I've Got The Cheats

I don't know about you, but whether it's my diet, sleep schedule or bug protocol that I deviate from every now and again, I can't seem to get away with cheat treats too often. You know, things like the occasional chocolate cake, burning the midnight oil at a party, or forgetting to take my chlorella for a day. But what irks me even more is that I can't seem to manage the rigidity of a lifestyle that requires all things to be just so or else the whole operation of my body collapses like a deck of cards. Do you know what I mean?

Considering I'm a choco-holic, I've been amazed at my ability to stay away from sugar. I've managed to eat things I would never choose under circumstances of health, such as salmon and kale. I've even been faithful to my three dozen treatment regimens, and stayed true to an exercise program throughout the duration of my illness. Even on difficult days, I've been able to bite the fatigue bullet and walk, or get up multiple times a day to take a pill.
And most of the time, I get to bed by 11:00 PM, though I'd rather stay up until at least midnight.
I could almost get a gold medal for my discipline and relentless dedication to kicking the daylights out of my disease. Were it not for my mate tea.

The first year and a half of my illness, I quit caffeine cold poultry. I knew my adrenal glands would especially be taxed by the stuff, and for awhile, I prided myself on abstaining from coffee and tea. But then I improved a little and discovered mate (pronounced mah-tay).
For awhile, my body seemed to crave the magnesium and potassium found in this amazing South American beverage. But then it grew sluggish and my sleep derailed, as I realized that my adrenals were once again panting and gasping under the strain of mateine (which is a stimulant, much like caffeine)
Despite knowing its perils, I can't seem to wean myself off of it, and hence, my little cheat has become a vice that is wrecking my body.

I've thought hard about allowing myself this one concession. But if you are like me, then you know that taking one card from the fragile house of disciplines collapses the whole deck. No, all the duckies must be in a row in order for one to lead a halfway normal Lyme life.
Could it ever be any different? Perhaps for you, it can. Perhaps for me, it will be, one day soon. And may it be sooner rather than later, because this whole discipline thing has me wanting to toss all mine to the wind.

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