Scissors and Running Go Foot In Hand

An unforeseen routine has crept into my life since moving into the apartment:

• wake up, get out of bed, and clean cat vomit.
• go to work late and do half-ass job.
• leave work early for whatever reason.
• come home and clean more cat vomit.
• finish half-assed work.
• bathe, medicate, return to bed

I can't say life has been better than this. I grew up in poverty and neglect but didn't think much of it. After all, everyone else was living in poverty and such. I believe it was in the music "Fiddler on the Roof" that it was said that it is "no crime to be poor." The problem is that I can't make it stop. The poverty I don't pay much attention to ... I've done alright by myself thus far and am no longer in the poverty bracket. But neglect ... neglect should be a crime.

Test results from my blood came back today and I have no major disease; however, I do seem to be very dehydrated and malnourished. I'm not sure why this surprised me. About a week ago, I kept a journal of my inputs and outputs and such and was surprised at how little I have been eating. The problem is, as mentioned, that I can't seem to make it stop. I am eating and living no differently than any other time in my life, except perhaps even better.

I've been educated and taught nutrition and self-care yet I am still clueless. The past four meals I've cooked have burned so I did not eat them. It is suddenly clear to me why I have always eaten out so much in my adult life.

After burning my dinner again tonight, I watched the very very crazy movie, Running With Scissors. Shamefully, I found it semi-funny but it also left me afraid. At the rate I'm going I may end up with a tube down my nose but I am not afraid to die. Most people are afraid to die. More are afraid to die alone. I've not had this fear. I fear living. I suspect more people fear living than would admit. I fear even more living the rest of my life the way I have always lived it and despite what efforts I make to change the way I live -- nothing changes.

So my legs decided to they wanted to run. Despite my low glucose, potassium, albumin, and whatever else, I went outside and I let them run run run until they were too tired to run any longer. I am not athletic but I am a runner. I just can't seem to stop. ...I suppose I have scissors too.