stupid decisions
I did it again.
I know. I know. It was stupid to put my life at risk like that. I swore that I’d be more careful the last time this happened. I made a promise to myself to be good. I’d agonized for weeks over my actions the last time. The questions I asked myself came in rapid procession.
“Where did it all break down?”, “What was I thinking?”, “Does my health mean that little?”, and “How could I let this happen?”.
Then came the blame and the self-demonization
“Stupid, Stupid. Idiot.” “You know better than that.” “One of these times, it’s gonna kill you” “You won’t always be lucky, someday your luck will run out.”
Then finally, came the task of figuring out what it was that made me slip, again like last time. Was it the situation? Was it the alcohol? Perhaps it was the depression and needing the rush of doing something dangerous. The need to jump-start my life into a new direction, even if that direction is completely ignorant and dangerous. A direction that can forever alter my life.
I wasn’t thinking. I hope that everything works out ok, and that my health hasn’t been put into jeopardy. I hope that I can answer the nagging questions that follow these slips and I hope that some day there will be a way to really fight this scourge of humanity.
Alas, I have not come up with any answers why I did it; but I know that next time, I’ll drive right by that McDonald’s, and I definitely will never Super-Size it again.