Self-hatred, on top of bacteria

I’ve probably mentioned this before sometime, but I’m really not good at being ill. Especially when it’s something as annoying (but not too debilitating) as a cold. If I’m under the weather, my self-pity ramps up, my self-care plummets and I make terrible decisions that probably prolong my misery. Instead of resting, giving in to the illness and treating it, I try and stick two fingers up at it and plough on regardless, or deliberately do things that I know will make it worse. If I have an upset stomach, for example, instead of following the received medical advice and drinking lots of water without eating solids, I’ll say ‘stuff you’ and eat curry. I do NOT help my body and myself.
Last night is a case in point.
What I needed; what would have lessened the unpleasantness of the bug and increased my chances of waking up feeling better, was an early night and a good rest. But what did I do instead? I said “F**k it – if I’m going to feel like shit anyway, I might as well enjoy the night’ and I sat up watching the NFL until finally succumbing to sleep at about 4am this morning.
So I still feel racked with cold, but I also feel sleepy, exhausted, and mentally out-of-it, and I’ve reacted to that by drinking lots of coffee, which has given me indigestion.
Jesus.
There is an age a man reaches where he stops doing these stupid things, right? Please tell me ‘Yes’ and please tell me it happens before he reaches 40, because I could really do with a break from my own stupidity.

RC 18-10-21