I woke up about six weeks ago and realized I couldn’t keep doing things the way I was doing them or it would kill me. — Not literally, obviously. I could go on like this, miserable and stagnant, indefinitely. I wouldn’t call that living but it’s also not death. Is being alive really enough to be called the opposite of death? Is it the not-death? If it is, I’d like off this ride, thank you very…