I love being home
About twelve hours after getting off the train, and my health improved drastically. Renee says I looked like three miles of pounded shit when I walked out of Penn Station, but the cold that just wouldn't go away left the building pretty damn quickly once my not quite vacation was over. Not that I'm fit to go run a marathon now or anything, still flushing a few more things out of my system, but there has been an improvement which is good because that cold was a nightmare.
Which makes me wonder yet again if it might not have been stress. I did notice the timing of my various severe flare ups were rather convenient. Come to think of it, most of the times that I was getting such horrible colds like this were during or just shortly after times that were stressful for a variety of reasons.
Wonderful.
See, when my stress can't manifest itself as anger that will pass and be gone, it comes out in infinitely less pleasant ways. I think I spent most of my teenage years suffering from one extreme physical stress symptom after another (all of which I suffered with very quietly, because, due to my then very recent experiences, I would have rather died than gone to a doctor for help*). I used to get stomach pains that felt like my insides were being shredded, that was replaced with migraines, then my heart would start pounding hard on a fairly regular basis (probably the most frightening one there), then every muscle and joint in my body would just ache, on and on. Oh yeah, my youth was such a fun and exciting time, let me tell you. And yes, I used to get colds like this that came with severe asthmatic symptoms, and I used to get them a lot. Eventually that all just sort of stopped happening as I started slowly getting my shit together, and now some of it is rearing its ugly little head up again.
I fully accept that I will likely always have an incredibly dysfunctional relationship with my feelings. Really, whatever. Still, it would be so nice if I could deal with some things somewhat close to the way a normal person would. You know, like maybe I can shed a few tears for a dead relative in private, rather than remain stoic and not be able to breathe for a week and a half.
* My feelings may have softened to a degree, I would go to a doctor though I may have to be bleeding out of every orifice first, but I would go. But do note this is because I have certain problems with things due to horrible past experiences, I don't advocate that everyone be like me.
Which makes me wonder yet again if it might not have been stress. I did notice the timing of my various severe flare ups were rather convenient. Come to think of it, most of the times that I was getting such horrible colds like this were during or just shortly after times that were stressful for a variety of reasons.
Wonderful.
See, when my stress can't manifest itself as anger that will pass and be gone, it comes out in infinitely less pleasant ways. I think I spent most of my teenage years suffering from one extreme physical stress symptom after another (all of which I suffered with very quietly, because, due to my then very recent experiences, I would have rather died than gone to a doctor for help*). I used to get stomach pains that felt like my insides were being shredded, that was replaced with migraines, then my heart would start pounding hard on a fairly regular basis (probably the most frightening one there), then every muscle and joint in my body would just ache, on and on. Oh yeah, my youth was such a fun and exciting time, let me tell you. And yes, I used to get colds like this that came with severe asthmatic symptoms, and I used to get them a lot. Eventually that all just sort of stopped happening as I started slowly getting my shit together, and now some of it is rearing its ugly little head up again.
I fully accept that I will likely always have an incredibly dysfunctional relationship with my feelings. Really, whatever. Still, it would be so nice if I could deal with some things somewhat close to the way a normal person would. You know, like maybe I can shed a few tears for a dead relative in private, rather than remain stoic and not be able to breathe for a week and a half.
* My feelings may have softened to a degree, I would go to a doctor though I may have to be bleeding out of every orifice first, but I would go. But do note this is because I have certain problems with things due to horrible past experiences, I don't advocate that everyone be like me.