Wide awake

 I hate using my phone to do any significant writing, so this is going to be a short one. 

I managed to avoid my incessant evening snacking last night, but only because I went to bed at 7:30pm, right after dinner. Sleeping (and writing) seem to be the only ways I can avoid eating, but oh how it sucks to wake up at midnight with thoughts of KFC, pizza, burgers, and Doritos on the brain! I am so incredibly thankful that I don’t have that sleep-eating disorder, otherwise I’d probably be driving around, in my sleep, trying to fulfill my cravings.

Taking 120mg of Lasix before going to sleep earlier also isn’t too conducive to a good night’s sleep, but I ate so much salty crap on Monday and I couldn’t bear the thought of being bloated on Tuesday. My damn fat pants are already tight enough. I hate using the Lasix because the muscle cramping in my legs and hands (caused by the ensuing electrolyte imbalances,) are so very painful indeed. One ER doc told me I was playing Russian Roulett with my life by taking this stuff… the heart is a muscle too, and a fatal heart attack is a very possible outcome. But I’m not scared of dying any more, so his words didn’t have much impact, obviously. Sometimes I seriously think it would be a relief, a blessing, if this would end in death; it’s the only way I see for an absolute end to the inner torment I live with day in and day out. 

And with that, I feel the need to go to the loo again, and then I shall try to go back to sleep.