Sometimes it’s a good thing.
Last night(read part 2), as patient readers know, I was not feeling good at all. My mood was incredibly low and the Bad Thoughts had made an appearance on the distant horizon and I talked about how if it got much worse, I would go to the ER.
Well shortly after posting all that, something happened, and suddenly I felt like a million plus one times better.
I don’t know what the thing was, although given that I don’t remember it happening, I am guessing it was a micro-sleep. I took a brief involuntary nap.
All I know is that I had been sinking lower and lower then there was a moment of missing time, just long enough to make me feel like I was waking up all of a sudden, and bingo, I felt fresh and new.
How very nice! And I am NOT being sarcastic.
I think I know the probable cause. While I was still blogging, it occurred to me that I had not done my breathing exercises in a really long time.
These are little practices I have come up with in order to clear the “used air” out of my lungs so that I regain my full lung capacity and can breathe properly again.
My theory is that there is a small defect in my respiratory pattern than causes my lungs to not quite get rid of all the deoxygenated air in my lungs when I exhale.
Over time, that stuff builds up in my lungs, taking up lung capacity and leaving less room for fresh, oxygen rich air to come in.
When I was a kid, this led to my suddenly heaving a big, sad sounding sigh without even noticing it, causing my poor mother much alarm.
She’d ask me what was wrong. Why the big sigh?
No reason. Just happens sometimes.
Actually, Mom, tons of things are wrong, but whatever.
As an adult, however, it seems like my respiratory system needs some manual help now and then when it comes to catching up on my oxygen needs.
But I had forgotten to do that for a very long time, and that is probably why I was feeling so god damned bad.
The exercises don’t bring instant relief. I guess my system needs time to build up the oxygen levels in my blood to what they should be. So there was a bit of time between doing the exercises and feeling the effects.
The exercises are simple. There are three :
- Forcing all the air out of my lungs in one long exhalation. This is neither comfortable or fun, but it gets the job done. Out with the bad air and in with the fresh air. That’s the stuff. This is why so many mystic schools of thought start with teaching you how to breathe properly.
- Holding my breath. Not sure why this works. When it’s happening, it feels like it’s causing the bad air to be sucked out of the bottom of my lungs and up to where it can be exhaled when I finally breathe again. This is easier than the long exhalation but not as thorough or effective.
- Rapidly breathing in an out. Like, as fast as I can, so that I am panting like a dog. This is the one that’s hardest to get away with in public. I don’t use it as much as the other two but it’s good to have when for whatever reason I can’t seem to calm down enough to do the first two.
And they work.
I am not entirely out of the woods. I still feel tired and sleepy. I probably have more work to do before I truly catch up.
Still, the lesson remains : feel terrible? Try breathing.
The results may surprise you.
More after the break.
Everything sucks and nothing matters
That’s my brand new nihilistic motto. Like it?
I’m thinking of bringing up my old Cafepress account and sticking it on some T-shirts and other merch. In nice big sans serif letters, black on a white background, very bold and plain to maximize the impact.
God I wish I had a graphics partner for shit like that. I can see what I want in my mind but making it ain’t as easy as you’d think.
Anyhow, I think it captures the spirit of our times rather well. Could be a big hit with the “edgy youth” demographic.
Goes well with my “fuck everything forever”.
Then again, I suppose that technically, I don’t want my words to be the motto of those who tear down what’s left of society in an apocalyptic rage when they realize just how doomed we all are.
I mean, as a writer I’d be flattered, and if they came to make me their king I would of course accept, but still.
Not exactly the legacy I anticipated but it beats being devoured by cannibals.
Seriously though, it’s good for me to be able to express those nihilistic emotions that are my psyche’s rather crude but effective answer to my rational mind’s ever bubbling witch’s brew of neuroses and anxiety.
Sometimes the best thing for my mental health is for my id to slam my stupid complicating ego and my overweaning superego on the head with a brick made of solid rage while screaming SHUT THE FUCK UP.
You assholes have been in control by yourselves for way too long and just look at the fucking mess you’ve made of my god damned life.
I’m almost 50, my health is in the shitter, I have no life, I’ve never even supported myself or lived on my own or been in a relationship, and I am addicted to video games.
How much worse could going with my gut instead make things?
So yeah. Shut the fuck up, you corrupt and incompetent components.
The id’s here and I am ready to school you fools the hard way.
So sharpen the fuck up.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.