This is not the life I want to lead. Granted, I woke up early to work early, but lately, things have been happening like this. I'll get home from work, and I won't want to do anything. I have to force myself through the motions, which makes me feel even more miserable. Some of it can be chalked up to my strong 'Beetus medication, but I had so much sugar today it couldn't possibly be that.
In the morning, I'm miserable. But I'm not so miserable that I give up on everything and close my eyes and pretend life doesn't exist. So here's my plan:
I'm going to start getting up early so I can get a workout in right away, so I won't have to think about it later. If I can somehow manage it, I'll get up early enough to write before I go to work. I don't know if that will happen or not. I doubt it. The exercise, I can definitely do. Writing will probably have to wait. But as much as it pains me to admit, writing isn't as important to me right now as being healthy.
I'm wondering if maybe I should take time off from writing to focus all my energy on getting back in shape. It's really hard to do both.
My new plan won't start this week, because I already have plans. Next week is out of my hands, too. However, the week after that should be perfect.
Because if this shit continues, why bother with trying to be healthy? Why not just give in to the urge to eat fast food all the time? Why not get drunk every night? Why not sleep with women of questionable cleanliness? Like, a lot?
Seriously. I came home from work tonight and wanted nothing more than to go to bed. The only thing that kept me from this was because I didn't want to miss an episode of a show I enjoy, because tracking down that missing episode would be too much effort.
What ISN'T wrong with that paragraph?
Maybe I'm on the wrong meds. Maybe I need a new doctor. Am I depressed? Is that it? I don't think so. But what if I am, and I'm not smart enough to realize it?
I wonder what would happen if I stopped taking my meds and behaved with my diet. Because behaving and taking the meds always leads to disaster. I'm afraid to do that, because my doctor said that people who lost their feet to the 'Beetus are people who don't take their meds. I don't want to lose my feet. I enjoy walking a great deal, especially since it helps me work out writing problems.
I'm a fucking mess. To those of you who give me shit about not having a girlfriend and/or kids, that's why. I don't want the horror in my head to be transferred over to someone else. I think I'll figure everything out someday, maybe even soon. Otherwise, I probably would have offed myself a long time ago.
The one thing I have going for me is a scientific thought process. In my weaker moments, I'm a self-loathing baby, but when I think about things--which is almost always--I can at least experiment.
I just wish my experimentation would help me find something that works for me.