I would often disconnect my mind from my body and wonder why my thoughts were unhealthy as I pounded wings and beer.

Two things were going on here.

First: I thought I could mentally overcome whatever deficit I created by neglecting my health. As if my brain and my thoughts existed on another plane. As if I could simply rise above how shitty I felt. As if I could just choose to be better.

Maybe you can to an extent. I've seen people fight through hangovers and carry on immensely productive lives. I don't have that gift.

Second: I underestimated how much I'm affected by my health. I thought, "sure, I may be tired some days—a little groggy, a little queasy—but that's fine, I can fight through that." But that's not all that happens. It's not that my thoughts are simply slowed—their nature takes a drastic turn. It's like another voice in my head takes over. And this one is overcome with self-doubt and fear. It thinks we're a loser, and this idea flavours all my other thoughts. They become dark and selfish, driven by survival instincts and notions of scarcity. Things seem hopeless. The world turns against me.

"Fuck you. Fuck the work. Fuck the world. Fuck God—I'm just looking after me today." It's dangerous.

I imagine I'm an extreme case. I've said before: "I'm sensitive and I'm creative as hell." I can get down pretty easily, and when I do, my imagination runs wild—picturing a thousand different scenarios where I'm alone and ridiculed and failing.

But I don't believe I'm alone. And I don't believe that many of us fully respect the consequences of neglecting our health. We think a weekend of binging on alcohol and shitty food will mess with bowel movements or make that Monday status call a little tougher to sit through.

I think we're also more likely to fight with loved ones, lose patience with coworkers, snap at our kids, punt a project we were once passionate about...we're just shittier versions of ourselves.

Maybe it's ironic that the guy who still doesn't eat vegetables is writing this.

Or maybe my diet and drinking habits made the consequences of mistreating myself abundantly clear, and the steps I've taken to improve my health (while not monumental) have had an undeniable effect.

So, should we never drink beer or eat McDonalds?

That’s not the advice I’m giving. Indulgence is a beautiful part of life. Just don’t ignore the toll things take on you. It’s not healthy.