Something ain't right with me, and I don't know what it is.
Do I drink too much diet soda? Would drinking less soda magically solve my problems? I drink at least four cans a day. It may not have sugar in it, but whatever it does have probably isn't making me a healthier person.
Gluten-free products are growing in popularity, in part because of celiac disease, but also because some people find a gluten-free diet leads to better health. It seems as if every other product on the supermarket shelves contains gluten, and perhaps the American diet is filled with too much of a good thing. Is gluten responsible for the fact I feel lousy all the time?
Would I feel better if I lost weight? Is it just carrying 40 extra pounds that makes me feel so lousy all the time? Should I find some organ-damaging diet drug to lose weight? Or should I just live off of eggs, bacon, cheese and chicken. There are nutritional downsides to the Atkins diet, but cutting out potatoes, bread and other carbohydrates pays dividends, at least temporarily.
What if my daily discomfort has nothing to do with what I eat or drink? I doubt it, but it's possible? What if there's something internal that is affecting my daily life?
I'd love to know, but I'm not eager to begin an expensive battery of tests to try and determine if there's something I should eliminate from my diet. There's no question my diet could benefit from a few adjustments. I'm sure I'd feel better if I didn't cheat myself out of sleep most nights of the week.
I feel horrible, I look worn down and I'm less than energetic on a daily basis. I'm not sure what I have to do to improve my health, but I didn't have heart surgery five years ago to go through life feeling like a punching bag. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired, and I'm not going to die with an empty tank. I have long said I'd be content to die at 58, while I might still have a few decent years left. I want to make sure there's still something left in my tank when my time is up. I don't want to be a shell of a human being.
When the ghost of Macho Man Randy Savage comes knocking at my door, telling me my time is up, I want to be slightly bitter about it. Today I wouldn't be, and that's not right.