Daily Battle

It took forever to get out of bed, find my towel and get to the shower. It took too long to make the water temperature to just right, not too cold and not scalding hot. It took so much will power to find pleasure eating my soft boild egg and coffee. It’s late morning, but it still feels like I’m getting ready in the middle of the night. Damn I had to do gym today. I’ve used up almost all my will power just to get up, shower and eat. I have so little left to fuel the effort of running the treadmill and lifting weights. Weights! That’s today too. 

I do sometimes question the logic behind spending what’s left of my energy on exercise just to be stronger. But it works. If only I could master the starting point. It’s always the hardest. But I made it through and I proudly wrote “450 cal burned. Take that depression!”, on my journal for today.

I had to take small naps. Depression and anxiety have the tendency to cloud judgement. A mental impairment no doctor can afford. Power naps reboot an overthingking brain, enabling it to perform in its normal and reliable capacity. Sleep is hardest at night, and exhaustion is almost always an enemy during the day. A quick snooze fix haywired synapses, and it almost always minimize fatigue.

I try to smoke less. Though going cold turkey should have been the better means, I’d go only as far as 3 days before sliding back with a vengeance. Since nicotine receptors adjust overtime, a little less every week would probably work better for me. Probably. Let’s wait and see.

I had to drink 3 liters of water a day. I had to, but I’m still working on it. I’m still on steroid and water sometimes make me feel bloated. So does soda. But I’ll try to find a way around that problem somehow. 

Every so often, I’d look at my depression and try to analyze what else is feeding it. My reluctance to acknowledge its existance once almost got me killed. Now I embrace it, keeping it near enough just as one keeps an enemy near. I refused to be consumed by this illness, but I will no longer make the mistake of denying it. I have clinical depression, and I will fight it ‘till the end.

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