But, my routine!!!

Right now, I'm trying so hard to keep myself together, but I swear I'm about to fall out all over the place. I suppose the main problem is my attachment to the need to control my environment, the internal and the external.

Today started poorly with a call at 6 a.m. about the death of a family friend. I had fallen asleep about an hour prior to the call. My attempts to sleep after said call were in vain. My children were fighting and being general pains in the ass of me.

Said ass received no workout today. Let it be known that I don't often "call off" a day of working out. Injury and illness, such as puking my guts out due to a bacteria, are the only things that will prevent me from doing what I love, and I do it for two to three hours. I've been like that my whole life, an athlete. You know?

Of course, this act of inertia has left my mind in dire straits. It's created a huge rent in the fabric of my pseudo-sanity. I feel enormous. It doesn't help that it's 10 p.m. and 82 degrees outside. Inside my house, it's 89 degrees. I'm bloated as a...ah...um, as a person with COPD who can't rid their body of fluids due to a weak heart?

Ok. Perhaps that's exaggerating, but I feel awful. My rings are tight on my fingers. So much so that I cannot get them off. (Total. Panic.) The one thousand calories worth of food that I ate throughout the day sits in my stomach begging to be purged. It's one of those days where I feel certain I will eventually barf, just to feel empty.

Everything is out of control because I didn't start the day as I normally do. I hate it. And I love it. I guess I hate what happens to me when my neuroses become painfully obvious to me.