The dirty double d

No, I don’t mean anything Guy Fieri-related.

After finding out about the whole diabeetus thing, I started a morning ritual of, oh, I dunno, actually eating goddamned breakfast. Sort of. I get up, I pour my glass of whole milk (doc’s orders) while making an espresso, and eat something light with them while checking social media.

Yesterday was a great example of why I do that, because I couldn’t, because once again (doctor’s orders), I was fasting. No milk. No espresso. No breakfast. Just water.

And boy howdy was I brain dead.

That still happens occasionally on mornings when I don’t have work. I sleep in too long, don’t get food, then spend so much time going “oh, I don’t wanna do anything” and whine and complain and…don’t eat.

It’s even worse when it happens at night. Usually, it’s like this: I eat lunch late. I get home from work, I’m tired. I want a nap. I don’t want to work out. I don’t want to eat. I spend all night staring at a computer screen.

Why is it a double d?

‘Cause if you add depression to it, it gets worse. You feel bad because a) you haven’t worked out b) you haven’t eaten c) you haven’t done jack shit.

While antidepressants may have saved my life before, I think the whole diabetes thing might have saved it recently. Had I not known – had it not been for people like my nutritionist and good friend Joanna, or Suzie, whose helped me with my workouts and is fun to chat with on Twitter – I wouldn’t have known how to handle it, and I would’ve maybe sunk deeper than Wellbutrin and Pristiq could’ve helped.

So, obviously, also thanks to Dr. Mircea for that.

And keep an eye on your own moods.

POST-NOTE on the other day: I got to work (and honestly, I probably shouldn’t have been driving on 495/66/28 without food or caffeine) and went to Kapao!, which has quickly become my favorite local Asian place. Spicy ginger chicken with lots of veggies later…man, I felt better. Also much better after too much diet soda. AND HUSH ON THE DIET SODA HATING, HATERS!


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