All those things I was griping about have been abating. So . . . that wasn't how it was all going to end. Sleep has been returning, but not perfect. It's not relentless insomnia anymore. Recovery sleep still wrecking.

I've been able to eat, but limited. Gastrointestinal issues, the least I know anything about, are likely chronic but have abated.

I may even try exercising again after the debacle last time over two weeks ago. There's a psychological barrier that appears when something unpleasant like that happens. There's both the unpleasantness aspect as well as the feeling that I shouldn't be doing this anymore because I can't. Which in my defense, at my age, is fair.

If I can't manage even 3 miles at a super slow pace, whatever. I have no problem quitting trying. I don't even know why I'm even trying.

When I was younger it was impulse. Craving. I grew up in places where winter was cold, and I couldn't run in cold weather because I'd get asthma. But once spring came along, I would get antsy if I didn't start running. It felt like something I had to do.

It's definitely not something I need to do now. As for cycling, I filled the tires on my bike two weeks ago, telling myself if I hadn't gone on a ride in two days, I'd deflate them. I've done neither, but I think I'll be deflating them this evening.

Whatever I do, it'll wait until the end of the Tour de France which I've been following on TV. The last stage is tomorrow. When I was younger, but older than running days, watching the TdF would have inspired me to get on my bike, but not now. Tackling climbs? Why?!! Looks painful, and I know how painful it is.

Morning sitting is still out. It wasn't too long ago that I would wake up and think of not sitting, but then think it was the most important thing I'd be doing that day and proceed with it.

I, of course, wouldn't mind getting back to it once the impulse or inspiration hits, but so far I haven't noticed anything different in my daily mindfulness whether I sit or not.

I don't think I could ever abandon or decry the benefits of sitting meditation, but perhaps the lifestyle I've chosen whereby I'm just waiting to die and have no social contacts or substantive attachments is by nature mindfulness practice. Don't need to pull myself out of something I'm not even sucked into.

The question still persists why I'm still alive, though. I'm still working on that. I've taken to focusing on certain body parts – a finger joint, or where an internal organ likely is – and asking what it has to do with me. There's a bone in here, is it me? No. Why should it exist? Why is it in any way important? It's not.

I still stare into mirrors and visualize and imagine the skull that is the basis for my head appearance. Strip off the outer flesh and all skulls look the same. You can't look at a skull and identify the person it was. It's the vanity of identity.

And as I've done many times before, I remind myself that the purpose of distancing myself from any and everyone has been to lessen any impact of my death. To make it theoretical, rather than emotional.

I hear about people dying and the emotional response by their loved ones, and I've worked to minimize that for when I die. There's just no proximity of any kind whereby anyone can be substantively affected by my dying.

Not physical, emotional, not even communication, any sort of connection, there's no proximity by which anyone could claim to be affected by my death. I've done well I must say so myself.