Yesterday’s post was… cathartic.
Even I was a little surprised to find out just how much generational bitterness I had stored up inside me, and I am glad I had the chance to vent it.
Now obviously, you nice people know me well enough by now to know that there was a heck of a lot of my own personal issues mixed up in that trans-generational screed.
And I am fine with that. This was a tortured ragged scream of rage, not an academic treatise. I was not looking to be perfectly objective.
Plus, to be honest, personal or not, it all remains true. I retract nothing.
They say that the most universal messages often come from the most personal of places, and that seems to be what I’ve done with that post.
And I know this because after I wrote said post, I posted a link to it to the Gen X Facebook group that inspired it, and got some positive feedback.
Which thrilled me to no end. I am used to whatever I say on social media generating absolutely no reaction whatsoever, like it never happened.
So honestly, even negative feedback would have pleased me.
At least I would have had a freaking effect.
Positive feedback is even better, though, and what’s more, I even managed to generate a little discussion.
And that makes me very happy. My dream is to have a forum where people discuss whatever I post about and have intense, detailed discussions about various topics and issues related to said posts.
Or what the hell, even the occasionally flaming argument about them. As long as they stay on topic, I’ll allow it.
I would really love to contribute to public debate like that. I consider people discussing their views and sharing perspectives to be an inherently good thing. I think that the more those wheels of public discourse turn, the better off we are as a group.
Because discussion, as futile as it may seem sometimes, is actually how we process our emotions and our world as a group. It’s how the body public digests things.
And I would love to be a part of that.
What else… got my chest X-rays yesterday. It was uneventful for the most part.
Forgot the piece of paper they gave me for my appointment, but it wasn’t needed. I think they just print something out because people expect it.
Wore my mask the whole time I was outside the apartment, and I am proud of that. It wasn’t easy. I had my claustrophobia slash fear of suffocation breathing down my neck the whole time, but I managed to keep it at bay,.
The secret is to not let myself begin obsessing over it. Keep my mind moving so it can’t settle into a fixated pattern.
And then, once I have managed to forget the fear for a while, when it comes back, I tell myself, “Hey, you were breathing fine five seconds ago, so you can breathe fine now. “
Sometimes my inner life coach is really good at his job.
More after the break,.
Do your homework!
Left my latest assignment from E&D to the last minutes, thinking it would be easy, but boy was that a mistake.
The changes D wants are pretty fundamental, and are going to take a lot of intense skullduggery on my part if I am to do a proper job of it.
I am possibly going to just start the whole character profile over again. Past a certain point, renovating a building becomes pointless and it becomes easier to just knock the building down and build a new one.
Makes me wish I had started yesterday. Then I would have had a whole day to process the changes and figure out how to integrate them into my work.
Instead, I have like…. four hours.
Tsk tsk me!
Lesson learned, though. Don’t assume acting on notes will be easy!
Felt fairly okay today. Then again, I did very little. And that’s kind of the problem right there isn’t it?
The whole reason my slow demolition went undetected by me for so long is that my life is so completely sedentary that I could be damn near dying and as long as I could still walk around the apartment and sit on my ass playing Skyrim and blogging, I would have no frigging idea.
And I know how wrong that is. I imagine the main reason changing my diet to eliminate most of the carbs did not solve my high blood sugar is that with so little muscular activity in my life even a much smaller amount of carb intake still exceeded demand,
If that makes sense.
So if I want to get healthy and not die (and I mostly do), I am going to have to move more. Which is ironic, because moving has never been harder or more painful.
Let that be a lesson to you, kids. Stay active – the longer you are lazy, the more saving your own life is going to hurt.
I try to imagine myself being more active – if I can dream it, I can do it – but the inner resistance to the idea is so strong that it feels downright impossible to overcome.
Because moving hurts. The path to recovery involves so much pain and for so long a time that it feels like it would crush me utterly before I even got anywhere.
Still, I think I have a hack. I just have to think of exercise as something I am doing for the immediate reward of reducing my muscular tension and overall agitation.
By moving the reward closer to the pain, I hope to maximize hedonic return and hence make it much easier to motivate myself to do things which will hurt me.
I mean, that’s just basic conditioning and/or pet training.
Who knows, it might even work,.
Nature is so stupid. The thing that could save me – exercise – is the thing nature is punishing me the hardest for doing.
So much for intelligent design.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.