Drive.


On the way to work this morning.
I.
Broke.
The.
Freak.
Down.


Like.
Uuuuugly cry broke down.

It was relieving.
And loving.
And Cry-y all at the same time.

Once I got to work, I started my morning with a 5k.
A glorious 5k.
In which.
I spent the majority of the run.
Realizing.
Why.
I prefer to run alone.

I have top five reasons for you.
Tomorrow.

But before I completely divert from the topic at hand.
Break down.
Drive.

My hands gripped the wheel of my little gray Tiguan (Tiggy) tightly as I felt the thoughts from therapy begin rise to the surface.

Jill and I had been discussing the amount I end up in the ER for dehydration, stomach issues, anemia, low blood pressure or some random combination of both.

"That's scary," she said.
"Is it?  I mean..."
"No, I'm feeling scared for you.  Like if your health is that out of balance?  I'm sad for that."
"Oh, right," I mumbled from couch.

And we progressed into talking about why I end up there every few months.
And mostly.
It's because I don't want to fail at eating.
So if I don't eat.
Well, I can't fail.
It's a no brainer.
And.
As rules in my life go.
If I don't eat and it gets to be 8:30pm, I can't eat dinner.
It's too late.
A few days later, and it's been 2 or 3 days since I had a decent meal.

As I type to you.
I'm eating a turkey Chilli and drinking water.
Because I ate lunch today.
And Kayle checked in and made sure I had.
And I drank a shake for breakfast.
Because.
However afraid I am to fail.
I'm more afraid of failing to live.

 And that friends,
is the impotus for this mornings breakdown.
Why do I do this to myself?
Why have I been.
Since about the 7th grade?
And a thought.
Slowly welled in my eyes.

Have I.
Been?
Slowly.
Committing.
Suicide?

I mean?
Have I?

Checked in at the ER every few months hoping this would be the time they would tell me.
I was dying.
It was okay to stop living?
Have I been doing that.

And while.
Low blood pressure and anemia deficiency are real.
And I certainly NEVER want to be there.
Who does?

I think.
In retrospect.
That's what it is.
A slow giving up on me.
Giving up on taking care of me.
Of caring about living.

And friends.
I'm not that anymore.
Happy break down.
It's not that I don't care about eating.
Or even if I care too much if I'm doing it right.
Or how it's prescribed.
I'm just.
LEARNING to do it.
(Nike?!  I mean, spot on.)

This thing we call living.
I'm just doing it.
It ain't that easy.
Don't get it twisted.
I wax and wane on days when eating is easy.
Living is chill.
And I quell in the peace of my days.

And most assuredly.
The day will come that it's not easy.
And it's easier to neglect and push myself to the limits.

Of life.

And living.
And so.

The purpose of this post is to remind you to drive.
With intention to live.
Don't pull over.
Give up the living.
Take care of everything beside yourself.
There is, after all, only one you.
And you.
Well, as you know, you matter.
In this great big world,
We all do.

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