T-minus 4 days. Four days until I wave a tearful goodbye to Taco Bell for a while.
Hell, I am choking up a little as I type this out.
Well, the choking might be Swiss Cake Roll induced, as four of those little brown devils is what I had for breakfast. They are worth the guilt and salty water from my eyes an hour after I shove them in my mouth. Three sugar-free Monsters washed away any evidence of the innocent slaughter, but I will always remember, especially now that I am blogging about it. I have now begun to think if I stop blogging about it all of this will just disappear.
Comedy aside, I do feel like garbage. On a daily basis. I become tired late morning, get a pick me up with lunch, and the fatigue begins to creep in mid-afternoon. That can’t be normal, even for my age. The daily depression isn’t normal, or it sure as hell shouldn’t be.
Even knowing what is going on and trying to cut back even a little seems impossible until day eight kicks in. For some reason, I want to, but just don’t want to even more.
For lunch, I decided to get a cheeseburger all the way at a gas station that hand makes them the size of Wisconsin. I piled on some BBQ chips and washed it all down with a 20 ounce Coke, that’s Coca-Cola for you Yanks. The uneasy feelings go away for an hour, only to come back as an antibiotic resistant staff infection on steroids. Anxious. Nervous. Doubt. Depression. Calm when consuming 400 carbs. Then back with a vengeance.
Dinner wasn’t much better, as I didn’t feel like cooking and polished off a can of Cheddar Cheese Pringles with bean dip. The unfortunate irony is that is somewhat normal; I only wish now I did it just for this series.
My mood swings are fully intact, my stress levels are through the roof, my stomach has knots even a sailor couldn’t untie, and my stamina can best be described as getting winded putting on my boots.
My left arm has also mysteriously become completely numb as if it’s asleep. Seriously. Even trying to meditate with no other distractions isn’t possible while I am constantly swinging my arm like a baboon trying to wake it up.
How have I let myself get to this point?
6 thoughts on “37 Days to an Asylum – Which Might be Zen”
Depression doesn’t need a reason.
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Unfortunately, you are correct sir. It doesn’t discriminate.
Where is this leading?
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I hope this leads to a permanent change in my mind and body. I also hope to inspire others to change if a change is needed in their lives.I know something has to give in mine, and by trying to stay upbeat and positive while bringing a laugh every now and again, it may help.
Other than that, I hope it leads to a life on the beach listening to Def Leopard in speedos.
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where are sonic and kfc?
sonic’s there. only no kfc.
oh yes, no dominos pizza.