T-minus 5 days until my body becomes a double cheeseburger from anywhere on the planet, extra mayonnaise included.

Day 3 of what I am now referring to a day in the life of a slop hog on a farm near you.

Now that I am tracking this and being honest with myself for once, it is beginning to disgust me. Not only the money pissed away but the stuff that is going into my body and the amounts of that stuff that seems unreal to the mind but its happening in real life.

Another McDonald’s breakfast of two sausage McMuffins and a sausage burrito with half the delivery truck of Coca-Cola is making me seriously want to cry. I don’t know if I can even keep this up for another four and a half days since tracking my intake.

My mood swings are the same, as they should be since my diet hasn’t changed, going from happy while eating to borderline suicidal hours after consumption. And if you think I am joking about the depression, you haven’t spent the last few years with me. It’s real, and I am now beginning to believe it’s mostly food related. Not to mention the extent of my exercise is getting out of bed and stretching to wash my back in the shower. Nothing in my life is right, and nothing I have been doing is helping me turn the ship around.

A fast food lunch again, this time knowing it should be dimly lit so that others can’t see me inhaling the daily calorie amount for most humans on Earth. I ate a week’s worth of calories at Burger King in that one sitting for most of the billion people in India. I not only want to weep for what I have done to my body but weep for those in India that would kill a small child for a meal like a mega-sized Whopper meal with onion rings. Even though in most places in India, they would have only eaten the Onion Rings and would want to smack me for me eating almost an entire holy cow every day. I could have fed a city block in the Dharavi Province of Mumbai. So to add to the daily fight with depression, I have now tacked on guilt for being such a disgusting animal abusing my time on Earth.

I should have thought about how bad knowing has made me feel before deciding on dinner, but those thoughts never emerged as I ordered the Baconator meal through the drive through at Wendy’s.

Those thoughts quickly came back after my last bite of the 1,200 calorie monster, and feelings of wanting to shove a .357 in my mouth popped up but decided against that as I was out of honey mustard dipping sauce for the barrel.

I don’t know how I have survived this long.

As a footnote, through day 3 I have continued to dabble in meditation music, but only while I am focused on something else. It seems not to help, but I will have to give it a fair chance once I go cold turkey on fast food nation.