Life RPG

There aren't many moments in my life that I can remember that don't have a good chance to bring me to tears.  Many are good.  Most, in fact.  A few bad ones, but none that can be assigned to a person -- more of a series of events that seemed to coordinate together to bring something that was less of a chance to be associated with happenstance than a force intending for certain to bring me down a peg or two.

I had a moment recently that straddled the edge of being good and bad.  The outcome was good, but the way it made me feel was bad.  Bad in the same way that a friend tells you that you're an asshole when you don't know it, or get fired from a job because you've become too relaxed in your desire for progression and advancement.  One of those moments where you realize that somehow things got away from you, and it got to a point where someone had to tell you.  That's the worst part -- for all the things I pride myself in, the awareness of myself is among the highest.  And yet, I didn't only not see this coming, but wasn't even remotely prepared for how it was going to impact me.

I sat in the office of my boss's boss, and had to clear up a bunch of work things causing me a great deal of stress.  At the end of clearing things up and feeling positive in my direction moving forward, the executive insisted I take my seat again, because he needed to talk to me something not related to work -- at least not directly.   Of all the things he said, the thing that stuck the hardest, and impacted the exposed nerve the most was this:  "You're not of use to anyone if you're dead.  You can't help anyone like that."

"Of course," is the immediate response, but it was a point I'd never put into my mind as a motivator.  So much that I hadn't considered what this meant in the more immediate short-term.  All the previous warnings I'd received were along the lines of being 60 or 70 and dying before hitting 80 or 90, and I'm not going to lie -- I didn't mind those thoughts that much, because a lot of detrimental and uncontrolled things happen to people after 70.  Alzheimer's, Osteoporosis, etc. are the types of things that make life seem so much worse.  You have your prostate to worry about, and your other organs begin acting up.  Avoiding the colonoscopies and the general deterioration of the body toward the grave with a sudden cardiac arrest didn't seem all that illogical to me.  I hadn't given up on marriage and kids, but I'd made my peace with the idea of it not happening.  I still look, talk to, and ask people out, but I don't often get positive responses.  So, dying at 70 or 80, without anyone necessarily relying on me just seemed... merciful.  To everyone.  Nobody to have to put up with taking care of me, or me waging a war on someone's heart from not remembering them, and be a surly old shithead.  It really didn't seem that bad.  Not much to motivate me there.

But I had noticed something in the moments leading up to this feedback.  I wanted to lose weight... like REALLY wanted to, but couldn't find the energy/motivation to do it.  Like the voice saying, "don't eat that," had as much bearing on my actions as my shouting, "don't go in there" to the person on the screen in a movie theater.  It wasn't even on the same plane of existence.  And I could feel my body wearing down and out.  Nights I would go to sleep, wondering if I'd wake up the next day.  The feeling that I had crossed a line that was the "point of no return," and just didn't realize it was that bad.  Pictures of me next to others started hitting me harder, seeing the size difference.  I didn't feel that different, but it was obviously there.  Feeling like I was inching toward death, and not being able to stop was a horrible feeling.  And while I was being drug toward it like an unwilling participant in an experiment with a Buick 8, this guy, who is a brass tacks sort of dude, and doesn't come across as sentimental, pulls me aside and says aloud what I've been denying is happening:  You're dying dude.  I want to invest in you, but not if you're already dead.  Give me a reason to invest in you.

And I pulled hard against the door frame of my mind, planted my feet and pushed back against the force pulling me back.  And said No to death, to dying, to spending the next x amount of time in a state where I don't know if I'd wake up after my next sleep.  I could get hit by a bus tomorrow, but don't want that to happen because I'm not in good enough shape to get out of the way.  If a bus kills me, I want the bus to have to work hard to take me out -- I want the ability to fight death at the cusp of existence, and give him a run for his money.  I want death himself to be afraid to come and collect me, knowing what I'm capable of.  And right then, hearing that feedback, death was dragging me to the grave, and I couldn't muster even a whisper to say "stop."

I've tried walking down this path so many times and failed that I feel insane trying again.  However, with each failure comes a lesson learned.  So now I'm putting those lessons learned to work.  I'm not following a particular diet.  Regardless of the diet I fix on, I find loopholes for myself to break out of them and make them not work -- I can't help it.  I find what's wrong and break them.  That's just how I do.  And what's more, I like that about myself.  So, no specific nutritional makeup for my diet.  If I want to eat a burger and fries, I'll do it.  The only limitation I have is for calories.  Keep it to 2000 calories.  No more, no less.  If I have a burger and fries, that decision makes all the others for me.  I don't have to say, "maybe I can have a candy bar now," because I'll know I can't afford the calories for it.  It will also motivate me to prepare my own food, since food prepared for me will typically be made to taste awesome, at the expense of massive calorie changes.  So if I want to eat a lot, I need to govern that myself.  I can still eat fastfood, but not very much of it.  My decisions answer any future questions I have, so I can't dwell on unhealthy thoughts.

Tracking what I eat is tedious and not helpful for me.  When dieting, I know what I've eaten throughout the day.  I'm hungry a lot, and I remember my last meal, and look forward to my next one.  I don't need to write it down.  If I'm uber concerned about its contents, I'll look it up online, and then just remember it for future reference.  I don't want each bite or craving to require me to stop and analyze and study out if I can do it.  That will make me feel more like a prisoner, and as much as my body is a prison, I know I'll try to escape instead of serving out my time if I can't find some form of enjoyment from the time.  So cravings are satisfied, and the days become limited to a cap of enjoyment before I stop.

I also know the rewards need to be inviting, but attainable in contrast to the goals.  For as long as I can remember, if I have a distraction, it will always lull me into a trap where I will accidentally disappear into it and realize later that I've made a huge mistake.  So I took my computer down and put it into storage, which was a large task, and a workout by itself.  Now, I don't have it to distract me for hours, when only minutes go by in my mind.  I only have the real-time distraction of not being in-shape to keep my mind on things I can do to avoid having to exist in such a miserable state.  Now, I can still paint, do woodworking, exercise, go on walks, meditate, sleep, or really whatever else I want, as long as it requires more exertion than wiggling my fingers around.  Even standing is more strenuous, so that's worth it.

If I have things to NOT look forward to, that's a motivator also.  I'm going to Scotland in 6 weeks, and the plane ride over is not going to be comfortable if I'm leaking into the person's seat next to me.  A month after that I might be going on a cruise, and I'd like to feel more confident that my body won't ruin anyone's lunch, despite my feelings that I'm sexy as all get-out.  A month after the cruise is a conference in Anaheim that I'll be attending, and I'd love some vindication at Disney Land, since the last time I went, they had to pull the Space Mountain cart off the track and let everyone off, claiming the cart needed work done, but really had to pull me aside and tell me I was too big to ride the ride.  I want to go back on that ride, not for the sake of riding it, but for being able to be allowed to ride on it.

I know those will motivate me enough to get me through the beginning of October.  And if I lose the weight consistently during that time, I'll likely be the lowest weight I've been in over a decade.  And being down that much will be a motivator to see where I can get by the New Year, and the elusive New Year's kiss from someone other than a crazy person, like previous years have provided.

Because the one correlating piece of data that I've refused to acknowledge with my anxiety, is my weight.  I believe that when I started lose control over that aspect of my life, my anxiety began to be a problem, or even exist.  I believe the loss of weight will allow for the alleviation of anxiety in my life.  That means easier traveling, more confident living, and less concerning decisions regarding my daily activities.

So, with all of what I know about me in mind, while someone might REALLY like the Southwest diet, or Garth Brooks Juice Diet, or Keto, or whatever else the fad diet, or newest wave of health discovery is claiming to be the best, I give all power to them to continue with what works for them.  The reason so many diets work for so many people isn't that they all work for everyone -- it's that they all work for individuals who find they work.  This is mine.  A simple diet of calorie-restricted eating, and not being distracted from that.

So instead of playing games, I turned my journey into a game -- an RPG, to be more precise.

When playing an RPG (role-playing game), you first emerge from a great hall, castle, cave, or some other magnificently scaled structure, and are washed in light to see all the other characters in the world capable of amazing things.  Depending on the game, some are riding horses, or shooting arrows, or flying on dragons, or doing magic.  And as a Level 1 character, you can do precisely nothing.  You can run past all these characters and marvel, but not DO.  And you quickly see what stuff you want to do, and lookup what it takes to do them.  And you might find it will take 4 hours of dedicated work each day for a year to ride around a three-headed dragon, and just look awesome, even if it doesn't make the game easier -- the aesthetic of riding a dragon instead of running is worth it.  So you grind for 4 hours a day for a year so you can ride a dragon from mission to mission, instead of running.  And boy, is that satisfying.

As a gamer, I wanted the rewards to be exciting and satisfying.  So, I put everything away.  Even some exercise equipment.  I want to earn the right to exercise harder.  I want the possibility of putting down the stick I'm swinging in favor of a boulder to make me friggin excited to play with a rock, since the nature of playing with a rock from someone who has a computer seems dull and boring.  To rid myself of those kinds of abject disappointments from the game that is governing my life, removing everything yields itself to finding excitement in even the mundane, simply because it is "new."

I have rewards set in place for weight loss in pounds.  The same for percentage of body fat.  The same for strength increases.  The same for things like exercise, maintaining my diet, and generally taking care of my body.  As I pass off certain requirements, I unlock more of what I lost in favor of making it easier and more efficient at losing weight, and doing something more with my time than the current version of nothing that is keeping my mind in the mode of, "constant aerobic activity."

And while I'm recording this 10 days after I started it, I've already lost 18 pounds.  Some might argue it is water weight, but I've done what I could to drink close to 200 ounces of water each day.  I'd find it hard to agree with water weight as the cause for the loss.  From a math perspective, I know I'm burning close to 5500 calories a day with my typical work routine, without it including exercise.  With a 2000 calorie diet, that means without exercising, I will have a 3500 calorie deficit each day, or 1 pound lost.  When I exercise, I burn more.  And since I've been exercising, and staying active, I'm down 1.8 pounds each day on average.  And that feels good, and sustainable.

And today, I've unlocked my first reward, for hitting 460 pounds.  I was using just aerobic activities, like calisthenics and walking, to get my sweat on, with the aid of some resistance bands.  But that was it.  Today, I unlocked some small free-weights.  Nothing huge, but is about 25 pounds of weight on each dumbbell.  So now I can do some small arm, shoulder, back, and leg exercises with them.  I'm excited to get home to get my muscles to burn against gravitational resistance over the pull from the resistance bands.

At 440 pounds, I will unlock some larger free-weights, that can be adjusted up to 200 pounds, and allow me to really push hard.  Beyond that is a weight bench I have, but can't use until 420 pounds.  Inclined and declined activities to strengthen my core and alleviate strain will be welcomed.  And after that, my 400 pounds reward is a punching bag that weighs 100 pounds, but feels great to put my force into and watch it fly off the ground and shake the frame holding it in place.

As I go down, more and more exciting things are unlocked.  Body fat losses correlate with trips to see family and friends, and also to more exotic locations to show off my body's newly sculpted form.  Strength increases allow for massages, and spa getaways to relax and reward the hard work.

I have rewards for consistency -- days worked out, water drank, and taking care of my body.  Rewards for consistency reward me with books or music I want.

I currently don't watch TV or movies.  If I want to watch a movie, I have to walk to the theater.  If I want to play a game, I have to walk to work.  So if I have cravings, I can sate them, but they cost time and effort.

My final achievement is passing off some form of physical fitness test.  Maybe some obstacle course or something to show I'm in shape.  The reward for this is something I've wanted to build, but haven't had space to.  A room.  A room I can soundproof and pad.  A place to bounce off of and roll and jump and scream, if necessary, and just generally be free.  A fortress of solitude.  Train, sleep, soak, or strain at my leisure.  Environment controls to feel like the arctic, or the worst day in Arizona's summer.  Body monitoring and measures in place to shut things down if I push too hard.  Just be free as my heart desires.  The thought of it really gets me excited.  I don't know why, and know others won't appreciate it or even understand it.  That's my anticipation.

It is happening this time.  I can feel future me reaching out and assuring me.  He's never let me down before, so I know it's true.  By this time next year, I will be a mere shell of what I am now.

Bedknobs and Broomsticks

Halloween is Approaching

The last 10 days or so have been a bit of a roller coaster.  Not for weight, though.  So that Wednesday, weighing in at 6 lbs sub, and then to the following Monday, the same thing did happen, and I lost 3 lbs for the week, but came up 3 since Wednesday.  I don't think my weekends are very productive, but I don't eat outside of the time schedule.  I just don't move much.

This week has been similar, but I'm watching each day what I eat, and when, and where, and weigh in each morning to see when the weight starts creeping in.  Last night I was rather convinced while going to bed that the next day, this morning, would warrant a gain, since I hadn't defecated.  And then, after drinking some horrible chamomile tea, my stomach grumbled, and whirled, and I felt a pocket of stuff move from my stomach down through my intestines, and the appear at my sphincter, awaiting clearance.  I thought it was just gas, but it was so much worse than that.

When I weighed-in this morning, I had lost another nearly 2 lbs since the day before.  Having been at around 464 on Monday, I'm now at 457.  If I keep on this pace, then by Monday, I will have dropped down to below 450.  After I get to around 440, meaning the week after, I can switch to my other scale, which does do some BF% measurements with it.  My current one doesn't.  And with all this calculation and estimation, I know that if I'm honest and diligent with it, I could be near sub-400 at Thanksgiving.

I went to a family doctor, and he was a huge advocate for keto.  I told him about the cholesterol, and he suggested I take the protein back to about 15% of my daily calories, and focus on fats.  I told him my nutritionist was wanting me to do keto, and he wanted me to have her reach out to him, as he hadn't found a nutritionist yet to support his keto-craze.  So my next appointment with her will be to get them in touch, and to start on keto.  I actually made an appointment with an "Insulin IQ Coach" at a company to take their 90-day challenge, per the doctor's orders, and after that, my doctor wants to see me again.

So Saturday I start keto again, and on Monday I'll get a plan together with my nutritionist.  And we'll see how this all goes.

I bought paints a few weeks ago, and nervous about using that as a medium for expression.  I've been watching Bob Ross, and have an easel, and all the colors he plays across the screen.  I just gotta do it.  Maybe this weekend.

For now,

-Your Semi-Retarded Friend

Squanch and Vodka

On the Outside of Being Inside-Out

It's been 10 days since you looked at me... Remember that song?  That's not how it starts, but you're singing it in your head right now, so that's okay enough.  I've had a good/bad, up/down last few days.  Some wins, some losses, some disappointments, some shame, one superb night of rest, and an almost nocturnal emission with a Brazilian actress whom was so gullible, she thought I was teaching her how to do "excited" better.

From my last post, I had talked about weight loss; and I didn't want to follow up on the 8th because when I weighed-in, I had gained 2 lbs.  What had changed from the previous week?  I didn't go to the gym as much, but I was still fairly active.  I got a new couch, and moved that in, and spent several days hanging out with my nephew.  And anyone who has entertained a 6-month-old whom loves to jump will tell you, your shoulders get REALLY sore after just a few hours of playing, "look what I can do" with the bundle of joy.  But I love the goober, so I push through the pain and soreness so he can keep smiling that awesome smile.

So I played a lot, exercised via life, and weighed-in, and gained 2 lbs.  I didn't get a BF% measurement, and maybe it went that way, but it didn't feel very good.

Ready for the good news?  Not yet.

That same Monday, I went into work, drank my obligatory energy drink, and worked until about 2 PM.  Then grabbed another energy drink, and started to eat around 5 PM.  I swallowed an especially large piece of beef jerky just as I felt I was coming down and crashing hard from the energy drinks, and the piece of meat started a slow-crawl over the bump in my throat caused by a benign growth on my thyroid, pressing against my esophagus.  I felt anxiety, even though I could breathe, and felt my heart rate increase.

The meat cleared, but my heart rate continued to thump away.  Before I knew it, I was laying down in a peer's office, talking to them, trying to get my heart to calm down, and it just wasn't budging.  I was having a full-fledged anxiety attack at work, and couldn't understand why it was lasting for so long.  I had one a month ago and called Jack to talk to me and keep my distracted, and eventually felt better.  But this one wasn't going away, and didn't.  I went home and tried to sleep, but couldn't.  It felt like my breathing didn't match my heartbeat, and that kept me awake.  Eventually spoke to a physician, who recommended a sleep aid to calm my heart and help me sleep, which I did around midnight, waking up a few times, and feeling a little better in the morning.

As soon as I got into my groove at work, the thumping starting again, and found myself in a bit of a tight spot.  I took the afternoon off, hung out with my Pop, sister, and bouncing nephew, and observed random times it spiked from "on the edge" to "falling to my doom."  I went to dinner with the aforementioned party, and got in my car to drive home when I realized the shallow breath and tightening in my chest wasn't because of my anxiety -- it was because of my asthma.

I began to think of the timeline, and how things played out, and realized that if I started having an asthma attack on Monday morning, and the energy drinks, with their caffeine, helped improve my airways, so I didn't notice the attack, and then suddenly didn't have that with the crash when my heart started bumping harder.  And if my heart needed more oxygen, but couldn't get it from the asthma attack, it would likely pump harder, but certainly not slow down.  So the persistence of the heart's demeanor in conjunction with the asthma attack led me to believe I was about to go into cardiac arrest, or have a heart attack.

I realized this all while driving home, and then making a big decision then.  I took some anxiety meds from a few years ago that hadn't expired, and took them with some Prednisone -- the drug they give in ER's when having an asthma attack, remembering a doctor telling me that mixing the steroid with a muscle relaxer was fine, since they targeted different parts of the body, and waited.

After 40 minutes of waiting, I felt my heart thump HARD 3 times, and my lungs suddenly open up.  I jumped up out of my chair in panic, took several very deep breaths, and walked around a bit.  My heart began to slow down, and breathing became enriched with delicious oxygen.  And finally my heart calmed down.

I legit felt like I was going to die by taking steroids to calm my heart down.  Typically it's thought that steroids will increase heart rate.  But since my heart needed oxygen, which it couldn't get, the steroids opened the airways, and improved O2 potency, thus calming my heart.  After about 30 minutes of that, I felt the anxiety pill kick in and went to sleep.

So the good news was I was able to figure out what the problem was, and why it was being exacerbated.  Also, since it was going on, I decided I should still have my anxiety checked into because attacks have been happening with more and more frequency lately.  I've called a psychiatrist, psychologist, nutritionist, and family doctor for appointments in the next few weeks to get some things back in order that I've been intentionally avoiding.

I'm rather excited for each meeting, and for them to start helping me get things back together.

Also, when I weighed in this morning, 2 days after the 2 lb gain discovery, I had lost 7.4 lbs from Monday to Wednesday.  I'm guessing that my body being in a constant aerobic state had something to do with that.  We'll see how it looks tomorrow.

While I'm concerned about the increased rate of anxiety attacks, and migraines as well, I'm happy to be going to see professionals whom can help with those issues, and get me going on a better track.

-Your Semi-Retarded Friend

Havana and Wagyu

An Unforeseeable, but Inevitable Slowing Down

Last week was my start of Intermittent Fasting.  I weighed in at 474.6, and took that at face-value, as I knew it would be changing and quick.  The week was a bit difficult, spending it at a conference, and having lunch catered to people each day smelled great, but felt awful.  Calorie-free energy drinks got me through days of fatigue and exhaustion that comes with low blood-sugar.  I had a good week with it, and stayed true to the schedule I had made.

I go to work, or whatever during the day.  Around 5:00 or 5:30 each evening I start eating, and head home around 6:00.  I put something in the sous vide to start cooking, and head to the gym or yoga, expecting to get there around 7:00.  I workout for 45-60 minutes, and get home 15-20 minutes later, just in time for the sous vide to finish.  Prepare the side dish with the meal, sear the meat, and then eat.  Larger portions, since I'm eating for a day in a few hours.  It's very difficult to do that, I've found.  Even eating not the most healthily, I still fall a bit short.  Saturday was a proof of concept, since we went to Red Robin for dinner, and I got a big burger, ate a bunch of fries, and got their biggest dessert, and was still 800 calories shy of my daily requirement.  Some starbursts kinda helped with it, but I finished the day at a sub 400 of the day's requirement to maintain, if I was catatonic.  Since I had been moving around and doing things, it's likely that I burned a couple thousand calories from activity throughout the day, so the day was quite literally close to a 1 lb loss day, after eating horribly.

From Monday of last week, weighing in at 474.6, I weighed in today at 466.2, a loss of 8.4 lbs, or 1.2 lbs per day on average.

And here's the trouble -- I know it's going to slow down.  I wish it didn't.  Despite how unhealthy it is, I wish I'd deal with those health concerns over the current ones.

If I lost 1.2 lbs per day by keeping this up, then by Thanksgiving, 52 days away, or Christmas, 85 days, I'd lose 62.4 lbs and 102 lbs, respectively.  And from today, of 466.2, being nearly under 400 around Thanksgiving, and being around 364 at Christmas would be huge.  I'd fit on a plane without the extend-o-belt.

Then, keeping that going, to get down to my all-time low, of 262, I'd just have to persist for another 85 days.  That's mid-March of 2019.  To think that by April, I could be at an all-time low, and May being my ideal weight, having lifted and Yoga-ed into my body, I'd daresay that I would be in rather good physique as well.  Then taking supplements for the extra skin, and THAT being my biggest dilemma, I'd be stoked.  I'd take the hunger every day, and accelerate this 2-year sentence, and get out for good behavior after 6 months.  I would TOTALLY do that.

But I know it won't last.  As I lose weight, even proportionately, I'd go from 1.2 lbs per day to 1.1, then to 1.0, and 0.9, and so on, until it was 0.1 lbs per day, and then the last 30 lbs takes longer than the first 100.  And that's just rough to be so close to a goal and not get there just yet.  But perhaps by then the things that are super difficult now will become easier, and I can just push harder to it.

I am curious at what point will my body/mind realize that certain things are easier.  Like, even at 364 lbs, that's a lot more than I should be, but I wonder how much difference I'll feel from doing things, so much that I'll notice them, or not realize it's easier because of how little difference it is.

I still have yet to figure out milestones, goals, or how to measure success along the way.  And I wonder if this severe weight loss can be cascaded into further weeks.  This will will be very revealing for me.  If I can lose another 8.4 lbs, then I'll feel a bit confident about the whole thing.  If it's closer to 5 lbs, with the same effort, then it's likely my body stabilizing to the diet, and another week or two will tell me how to project the future.  And then I'll know closer to what I expect.

I hope my post next week is more along the lines of "Yay, it worked the same again," and then I can keep tracking that.  Otherwise, I know the feels associated with that, and it's difficult to stay super positive, despite the fact that loss is still loss.  Then it feels more like missing out on parole, and you will have to endure your entire sentence.  It inspires hope, but doesn't usually allow for the hope to warrant any merit -- but can often turn the hope into anger or disdain, so much that you give up.  Don't.  Easier said than done.  Just don't.

-Your Semi-Retarded Friend

C

Trainings and NETworx

I find myself drawn ever moreso to the allure of travel.  Being in places I really have no right to be in, just to be there, and experience life there is very intriguing.  I'd love to find a way to travel each year a few times.  Maybe even finding a less-than-often traveled means of getting there.  Like getting to a country via boat instead of plane, but not cruise-liner, and closer to fishing boat or charter.  Hell, even walking there from another country would be nice.  And I'd love to do it in different garb than expected.  It would be unique for the locals and make it bit more memorable.

Places I'd like to visit:

Japan

Cuba

Iceland (even though they were the bad guys from Mighty Ducks 2)

Cancun

Brazil (during Carnival)

Mexico City (during La Dia de los Muertos)

Peru??? (Bro-in-law is from there)

Australia

New Zealand

Bahamas

WW2 tour (England, Italy, Belgium, Germany, France, Poland, Austria, Switzerland)

Sweden

Greece

Anyways, learning the languages to me would be important.  So that would be:

Japanese, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, German, Dutch, French, Polish, Icelandic, Greek, Swedish

12 languages... I wonder if I could do that... I'm sure I'd learn shortcuts and improve on the process significantly as I go from language to language.  The Latin-based languages would be easier with my Spanish and Latin experience already.  The German languages would be different.  Maybe.

Panic and Cold-Sweats

Around the Whirl in 80 Minutes

This weekend was a bust of sorts.  Friday I drank until I was really out of it.  I recognized this, and cooked up some pasta to help counteract the symptoms.  I didn't have any sauce, so I used some lemon juice and various spices/herbs to flavor it.  It was disgusting, but drunk me didn't seem to mind.  It did help clear me up after an hour or so.

However, Saturday around 11 a.m. I got a migraine that stayed with me through the rest of the day.  It made my Saturday activities unmanageable, so I just sat there, and tried to endure, despite taking Advil every 4 hours without comfort.  I took some zzzQuil to help me sleep that night.

Sunday was a bit better, but I felt exhausted, recovering from the migraine.  And when I went to the store to get the stuff I should have gotten on Saturday, I nearly had a panic attack.  I lost focus, couldn't concentrate, started sweating profusely, and it was a cold sweat, and couldn't realize what was going on.  It was hard to breathe, remember things, and I felt like I was going to pop.  I called Jack, and he distracted me for 12 minutes, and got me through the brunt of it.  When I looked at my cart after, I had put some stuff in there I didn't go there to get, and made my way through checkout before I put in a bunch more I didn't need.

Getting home, I cooked up some bacon, tried to eat some pears, thinking it was low blood-sugar, and it wasn't, and debated driving 30 minutes to visit my sister and her family.  While eating the pears, I nearly couldn't get them down -- they just tasted so much not like what I needed that having them in my mouth made me nauseous.  Water, sodium, or sugar proved fruitless to whatever was ailing me, but I really didn't want to not visit with my sister, so despite my concerns for driving an hour after I nearly passed out, I drove down.  I had a hearty, 2-minute cry while I was driving, and that really seemed to make me feel better.  I guess some sort of hormonal or chemical imbalance that was evened out through my expulsion of tears helped to bring me back around, and I felt great for the rest of the night.

When I got home, around 9:45, I watched a show, waited for sleep to call me, and then fell asleep.  Waking up at my alarm, and wanting to sleep another hour, I reset my alarm and rolled back over.  I was pulled back awake by a text from one of my guys saying he was sick, and I got up about 45 minutes after I intended to.  Since I didn't have food things to worry about, I showed up at work about 15 minutes later than usual.  So it felt pretty good to just roll over and go back to sleep.

Today I'm feeling pretty chill, and trying to keep that going, and see if I can have a good week.

-Your Semi-Retarded Friend

Bob and Ross

Into the Void

I have had a not-so-great week when it comes to sanity and self-esteem.  The last time I felt this down was over a decade ago, and it was largely caused from an obsession with numbers that I once had, which led to me blacking out, and coming to lodged upside-down under a desk that was already much too small for just my legs.  This episode didn't result in that, as I discovered a fix for it before I fully cracked, and that was sunlight.  The sun seemed to melt away a lot of the claustrophobic feelings I was enduring.  It didn't cure me entirely, but stopped me just short of toppling over the edge and blacking out.

However, since then, I had very terrible sleep on Sunday night, which led to fatigue Monday, and increased stress, causing anxiety, making it harder to sleep.  Cue Wednesday night, where my 3-hour nap didn't do enough for me, and I had to go home halfway through Thursday so I could try and sleep.  Some help from firewater and a sleep-assisted medicine, and I took a quick nap in my computer chair, followed by another 3-hour nap in my bed.  I ate dinner, groggily watched a movie, and then dozed off again for another 8 hours.  12 hours total, and now I feel stupid for having to take a half-day because of stress levels not being taken care of.

So now I'm needing to implement some better stress releases.  And really, I don't know what will do it.  While emotional escapes will help, I find most of my stress comes from worrying about things, and scenarios which might come up.  So it really feels like something I need to do to slow my mind down, which I've only done with some sort of substance.  And as I've stated in the past, at least vocally, I can't rely on a substance to exist, as that would indicate that I no longer have much of a say over my life.  And I can't be okay with that.

How do I slow my mind down?  All I can think of is meditation, but how?  Do I learn about means of reprogramming my mind, and see if I can force it into a shut-down cycle?  Do I discover a mantra that I iterate when I need to sleep, and eventually saying that will induce the chemicals my brain needs to allow REM?  Hell, maybe trying to employ the terrifying concept of lucid dreaming should be used, so I can adequately express myself in a particular situation, as psychotically as I want, without worrying about ramifications.  I.  Don't.  Know.

So now, at the end of the week, looking toward the weekend with some apprehension of how it will go, or what I will be able to accomplish, and am already regretting Monday, despite the changes I will be making to my diet.  Since, regardless of the presence and health of my mind, if I don't address the health in my body, I will absolutely not have enough time to benefit from getting my mind there.  If I have any shot of maybe doing Scotland in December, which is 3 months away, I need something extreme.  And right now, being closer to 480 in size, getting to or under 400 by Christmas is a bit dangerous, but feels absolutely necessary.

I've already ordered what I need for this change and new schedule, and hopefully my new schedule will dictate for me what I do and don't have time to do.

Perhaps I do need an evening routine, which I must do before bed.  I shall explore that tonight, in preparation for next week.  

Work has suffered as a result of all this, as my motivation to be me is just so low, pretending to be someone else is just not happening.

-Your Semi-Retarded Friend