Today has been an average day.
In the morning, I had a doctor’s appointment. Nothing to worry about, just a pill refill. It was not my usual doctor, Doctor Kelvin Chao, but someone acting as his locum, a doctor named Doctor Chu,
I have to say, I liked him. He had a slightly creaky but still very pleasant manner, like a friendly old uncle or your favorite college professor. We talked about how I need to get right on that insulin injection routine (because you know, I am super eager to start having to perforate myself every day) and how I really should have my eyes examined as it has been at least four years.
Possibly more, I am not sure.
But he is right, I really should get my eyeballs looked into. Being a diabetic (and one that is, quite frankly, out of control), I need to pay especially close attention to the health of my eyes. A lot of bad things can happen to your eyesight when you are diabetic.
And the idea of going blind scares the hell out of me. I typed this paragraph with my eyes closed just to give myself a taste of it. Not very fun.
(Not bad, honestly, for someone who never took a typing course in their life.)
In general, I have been neglectful of my health lately. I have been eating the wrong foods (as in, normal desserts) and not getting much activity and lapsing back into eating junk food with carbs in it instead of sticking to the peanuts and trail mix and so on.
And I do not know what to do about it. The self-discipline circuit seems to be the same one that my self-loathing uses, and now that I have disabled the self-loathing, it is very hard for me to get my bizness together and concentrate and remember things and keep myself under control.
Partly, this is because of the summer. Not only does the heat tend to fry my brain and make it hard to think linearly, but I suspect that someone in the deep works of my psyche, I still feel like summer is the time when you turn off your brain because you have been using it all year in school and it needs a break so you can go play and have fun.
This is what happens when someone gets trapped in depression when they are taken out of college. I am still trying to get over it 17 years later and counting.
But my lack of discipline lately is also due to this disconnecting my self loathing circuit and just letting myself off the hook for now. I am hoping that this will force my psyche to create a healthier pathway where I can care for myself because I care about myself. not because I flail myself into it via my inner tormentor.
Corny as it sounds, I need to learn to love myself. Right now, I am only just learning to stop hating myself, and to occasionally remember that I am a pretty awesome guy with a lot of talents.
And then to silence that voice that says “that just makes you an even bigger loser for not doing anything with your life!”
I hate that voice. I want to stick it in a bag of loose weights and drown it. Fuck you, evil voice. Get the hell out of my psyche.
We need a cuteness fix to chase that evil mean voice away. And I have just the thing. What are the cutest critters in the whole world?
Foxes, of course!
Aww. He looks like he is looking for a toaster. Foxes are the cutest things ever. I am probably going to make that picture my new desktop background.
Weird thing : the size of the pic is 999 pixels by 666 pixels. What a weird size. Was this photograph taken by…. SATAN?
Probably not. Probably just a coincidence, or someone with an odd sense of humour.
Been catching up on the sleep lately, which is a little unpleasant due to the form it takes (deep down dark dream filled dragging through the swamp, waking up messed up) but still a relief, as I had been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately and was quite worried about the growing tension I felt in my mind from the backed up sleepiness.
Not sure what would have happened if that tension had somehow reached the breaking point without forcing me into sleep, but I bet it would have been pretty ugly. I envision my slipping into a disastrously manic mood, where I have no censors on duty regarding what I say and do and end up waking up in jail with no memory of my crimes, which would be extensive, colorful, and damning.
But I gots the sleepies, so that is not going to happen.
Still, I plan on talking to my psychiatrist tomorrow about something a little stronger than Zopiclone as a sleep aid. It helps, but it does not help enough for my goal of wanting to have something that makes me feel secure that I will be able to sleep when I need to sleep.
Maybe that is not practical, or medically advisable, I do not know. I could probably get better sleep if I got a lot more exercise. Work off that excess tension, get the endorphins flowing, lose weight in the process, improve my mood.
And I am working on it, but I have miles of ice to melt through caked all around my will to motion. It will be a while before I can summon the will and the patience and the faith to exercise just as something to do, when I do not even have to do it.
My mind is still set on “do nothing unless you are forced to do it” mode. Inertia mode.
But every day the weight on my mind decreases, and it becomes easier to move.
Some day, I will truly fly.