It's day 5. Five hellish days of THE WORKS. We're talking, fever, aches and pains, runny nose, nasty cough, shortness of breath, ear ache, mouth ulcers and, a symptom I've never really experienced before, not being able to taste anything.
Through the delirium, sweat and tears (yes, there were tears... that's how bad it got), I realised that I could have prevented this from getting so bad. There were signs. My body did try warning me, but I ignored them. Now I have no choice. I've been forced to stop.
There have been other realisations. Some irrational ("I'm a bad wife/friend/daughter/person"). Others, more productive. The biggie? My acknowledgement that I haven't been taking very good care of myself. Over the last six months, MP and I have completely fallen out of routine. We eat out most nights and I think I've drunk more booze in the last six months, than I have in my first 28 years of life. I've stopped exercising, even piking on the weekly Yoga classes which I love. All in all, I've been putting 100% effort into work but 0% effort into me. My frown lines are etching deeper day by day, and when I look in the mirror, I see a weariness where the spark use to be.
I can't do anything about it tonight, but tomorrow's a new day. There will be no work tomorrow. Tomorrow I am going to reboot.
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