I ran last night, even though in my journal I had said I was quitting. The reason I ran was Andrea, and the reason I kept going through my walls when I'd hit them was Craig. You see, I wanted to prevent Andrea from having to deal with my deeper depression by feeling like a failure about quitting. During my run, anytime I wanted to stop I kept thinking about Craigs, "running doesn't care" line and it kept me going. It didn't matter that I had only run 12 minutes last run, and 20 the run before - this was a brand new run, and I could do it. And I did. I ran 3.7km in 30 minutes. A far cry from the 6 I used to do, but better than I was two months ago.
Something is wrong with me. Between the tiredness (in the past two weeks I have had near misses with a car and a pole), the vomiting every other day, the stomach issues, the leg twitch, and the headaches - I feel so broken and run down. Maybe I'm still sick - though I doubt it. Maybe something is happening with my medication. Maybe I shouldn't be taking caffeine pills. But dammit, I don't know what to do and I can't see him for another 23 days. I'm so angry with the system, honestly, what am I supposed to do until then. If I am not suicidal then I can't see or hear from a doctor.
I'mm too tired to write anymore.