I woke up on Thursday, September 4th and the torture struck instantly. My head filled up like a water balloon, except it wasn't water I was filled with, it was disturbing, bizarre, negative and pesky thoughts. I recognized immediately from waking up I was unwell, but I proceeded onto my daily life. By Monday night the feelings both physically and mentally were so overpowering. I was no longer in control of my own fate. My mind had made up its’ own mind and was about to take my body prisoner too. I felt nothing, I was scared of nothing.
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During my recovery from bipolar illness my therapist suggested that I increase my physical and spiritual health. He said I should establish routines that could make daily prayer and exercise something I could look forward to (are you kidding me?)
After many starts and stops and several years I finally found what works for me. I want to share it with you.
I don't like running. To be honest, I began running out of vanity. My ten year high school reunion was coming up and I refused to look as if I'd just bore two children when I walked through that ballroom door so I started running. Walking just took too long. Since then, ten years have passed and I'm still running. I don't run fast and I don't run far, but I do run. There have been waves of time that I've run nearly every day, up to six miles at a time. And there have been spans of time that I only run a couple of days a week for only twenty minutes a pop. But I do run.