Musings on nausea
So I'm sitting here nauseous. And nauseated. Both. Which are different things.
It bothers me quite a lot; once upon a time I could eat decent amounts of rich food, and have no problems. Past few weeks[0] this has not quite been the case. Breakfast is out; three hours after I'm up I can maybe stand a donut and coffee. I've tried eating a sandwich on my way out, maybe an hour after I wake. No dice.
So tonight, for instance. Laura made fried chicken. I ate two pieces. They were small, I was hungry. No big deal. Except it is. Trying to come back out, or rather I find myself in the bathroom dry heaving, wishing it would.
But before I was off worshiping the toiletgod, I was in here, at the computer, going over an email from Emily which I frankly didn't want to read, and really don't want to respond to.
Repeat pattern for other times I try to eat. I can't, because I'm busy trying to figure things out. Like whether anybody at Tech can bend the rules enough to find me money (even an emergency loan, at this point). How the hell I think I'm going to work and school at the same time. Et cetera.
So how much of this is in my head? If I were a peaceful little grasshopper, would my stomach feel fine again? Perhaps if I would stop mulling over emails that I know will upset me, or just tell financial aid screwballs where to shove it, then things would get better.
I don't know.
[0] Coincidence? Possible but not probable.
It bothers me quite a lot; once upon a time I could eat decent amounts of rich food, and have no problems. Past few weeks[0] this has not quite been the case. Breakfast is out; three hours after I'm up I can maybe stand a donut and coffee. I've tried eating a sandwich on my way out, maybe an hour after I wake. No dice.
So tonight, for instance. Laura made fried chicken. I ate two pieces. They were small, I was hungry. No big deal. Except it is. Trying to come back out, or rather I find myself in the bathroom dry heaving, wishing it would.
But before I was off worshiping the toiletgod, I was in here, at the computer, going over an email from Emily which I frankly didn't want to read, and really don't want to respond to.
Repeat pattern for other times I try to eat. I can't, because I'm busy trying to figure things out. Like whether anybody at Tech can bend the rules enough to find me money (even an emergency loan, at this point). How the hell I think I'm going to work and school at the same time. Et cetera.
So how much of this is in my head? If I were a peaceful little grasshopper, would my stomach feel fine again? Perhaps if I would stop mulling over emails that I know will upset me, or just tell financial aid screwballs where to shove it, then things would get better.
I don't know.
[0] Coincidence? Possible but not probable.