The wound, that is. It’s bigger than it was last Thursday.

I knew something was up because after the wound had almost stopped discharging entirely, suddenly it was discharging a fair bit again.

Warning, this is going to get a little gross.

Because this was not the same discharge as before. I could tell, because the previous discharge turned the dressing black, and this new stuff only turned it medium-gray-ish.

So maybe it’s the same stuff, but more dilute? I dunno.

But while I was worried about the renewed discharge, the idea that my wound may have actually gotten worse in a serious and obvious way had not occurred to me.

So when the health care worker removed my dress a couple of hours ago, I was shocked. The thing is like twice the size it was before.

CLEARLY I AM STILL FUCKING UP.

The health worker scolded me about not taking care of myself, and she was right. Obviously, if my blood sugar is fucked up, the damn thing is not going to heal property.

She also recommended something I had not thought of but totally makes sense, which is to increase the amount of protein in my diet.

Well duh, I say in retrospect. What, exactly, is my body going to use to patch the wound if not protein? That’s what flesh is made of!

Luckily, I have a plan that fixes both problems.

NO MORE JUNK FOOD AS A SIDE DISH!

Lemme confess my semi-terrible diet to you.

My typical meal is a peanut butter sandwich, a bowl of something snacky and carb-loaded like chips or pretzels or whatever, and a piece of fruit.

Most of the time, there is also a sugar-free dessert item, usually some form of cookie.

It’s the snacky carbs that have to go. That shit is killing me. Kicking my carb addiction will not be easy, but I am trying to save my own life here, so I will do it.

The only remaining use I will have for that crap will be as a mix-in for the bag of microwave popcorn I have with my midnight snack on the nights when I am home.

And even then, I will be trying to get rid of that too, once things settle down after I kick the main carbs.

However, being a wise (or at least clever) fox, I will not merely kick the carbs, I will replace them with snackable PROTEINS.

Like almost, or peanuts, or those sugar pea snacks, or wasabi peas if I can find them, and so forth and so on.

That way I still get snacky foods, just ones that do not contribute to high blood sugar.

I will put this plan into action the next time I do my Sunday shopping at Sav-On. Possibly before that if I can get my energies together to go to Sav-On on my own.

So the junk I bought yesterday is the last of its kind.

One of the concerns I have had about cutting the carbs out of my diet is that I worry that I will end up with low blood sugar as a result.

So I am also finally getting around to getting myself a new glucose meter. Yes, that means lancing my fingertips (for fuck’s sake) but I need this information.

Information soothes me.

Plus once I know where I am in terms of blood glucose, I can plan what to eat. That should both improve my physical health and make me feel more in control of things.

It would even let me have the occasional naughty treat so I don’t feel left out on holidays, because it will let me figure out how much extra insulin I need to take, and aftger the treat, I can see if I need more.

So that’s the golden prize at the top of the mountain, I guess. Something to motivate me to make all the painful adjustments in my future.

At things point, I would do almost anything just to feel better. I tend to blame my lethargy and inability to act on my depression, but who knows how much of that is actually just shitty physical health?

Besides, I feel the need to suffer. Not out of guilt or anything. More like a desire for purification by fire, as well as something to wake me the fuck up and make me feel alive and aware and awake.

Pain’s good for that.

I am very sick of being so numb inside. So sick of it, in fact, that brutal agony actually seems like it would be an improvement.

At least I would be feeling something!

Of course, physical bliss would perk me up too, and it sounds a lot more fun.

I am pretty sure cumming super hard from amazing sex would do me a hell of a lot of good in both the short and long terms.

Kind of hard to arrange though.

And besides,. I would still crave the purifying effects of pain. I know how psycho that sounds, but I have my own unusual sense of spirituality and it goes beyond the usual sense of pain and pleasure into something deeper and more profound.

Pain is temporary. Purity lasts. As does the growth it brings.

Wow, am I getting sleepy. Geez skip one afternoon nap and suddenly I feel like I am going to start to hibernate.

Which reminds me that I don’t take care of my sleep apnea either. Hell, I don’t even take my damned sleeping pills. I have lapsed back into napping, pretty much.

And I know that’d not good for me. I am probably way behind on deep REM sleep. What I really need is to spend at least eight hours sleeping, preferably in a row.

And it’s not like I have a super busy schedule and just can’t find the TIME.

So I have really got my work cut out for me in the future. And I know one thing – I have to been on serious lookout for that cold and empty screaming void feeling that comes to destroy my progress when I am actually getting somewhere.

So fuck you, screaming void. You won’t get me this time.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.