Living the life of your average middle class fuck up
Oh LJ. Remember when we used to be so close? When I would turn to you for literally almost anything? Rants, joyous announcements, pleas for advice, pleas for attention, and random observations?
You're probably plotting tumblr's slow, painful death. Tumblr is amazing, but you'll always be my forever girl, LJ. Pretty as tumblr is, I've never found a place quite like LJ. Just the right mix of private and public.
I need to start doing some deeper reflection. A lot of things in my life are getting away from me, and liking a picture of Benedict Cumberbatch or Scott Caan or Johnny Weir isn't going to fix it. For a while my problems were mostly about what to eat for dinner, and with problems like that tumblr is just fine.
But then I went to the doctor and found out two disturbing things:
1. I have tipped the scale to a number that I swore I would not allow.
2. The doctor wants me to have an MRI to determine whether or not I have an aneurysm.
Number 1 is just frustrating. I've known for a long time that I have no been diligent, responsible or committed to eating healthy things. I've known that more and more of my clothes have become less well fitting, and that more and more of the clothes that I reach for while I'm shopping are in bigger sizes. But ugh. UGH. I thought that if I just stayed mildly active it would all even out. No such luck.
I've tried repeatedly since January to get back on the right track with eating and there all these unpredictable emotional bombs that keep reducing my grand plans to ashes. My grandmother passed away in January. I went out of town to and ate like I was never coming back from vacation. I was tired. My apartment flooded. I had a bad headache. I was really sad.
Even today, I eventually gave up trying to be good and made myself a piece of toast with as little nutella as I could get away with and still be happy. And a huge, huge glass of white wine. Goodbye calorie count. I didn't do my strength training, and my cardio consisted of practicing jumps off-ice for about 10 minutes. So. Today's a fail.
Number 2, though, has been bothering me more than I like to admit because I am a melodramatic person and what if I end up having one? How on god's green earth would I EVER pay for dealing with an aneurysm? What if I drop dead tomorrow? What gospel rock song will my mother try to play at my funeral?
I'd been putting off going to the doctor for a while. I've had migraines since college, and they operate in a pretty long cycle. Then last month I had a migraine so bad I got double vision. And if you put in "headache" and "double vision" into WebMD, it pretty much just tells you to seek medical attention ASAP. So I scheduled an appointment with a highly thought of neurologist and he boredly tells me that I need an MRI in order to make sure I don't have an aneurysm.
Seeing my face, he just as boredly tells me that he's "not excited" because I don't have a history of it in my family, and if I did have an aneurysm, for it to cause double vision it would have to be in one specific place, so it's just not very likely at all, but he's gotta check.
Sometimes you need a brief walk down "What if I died? Wouldn't everybody be sad?" Lane, y'know? But it's not fun when everyday is like that. And aneurysms are the second go-to morbid fantasy after cancer for like every woman in America. And all the literature on them is terrifying.
So basically every time my neck is stiff, or I don't get enough sleep, or my head hurts, I secretly think, "Man, I hope I can figure out a way to get a puzzle in my hospital room because I hate daytime TV. IF I EVEN MAKE IT TO THE HOSPITAL."
And I'm not getting the MRI until the 25th, and even just getting the MRI scheduled was a huge fucking ordeal. To the point where I eventually started telling people on the phone exactly what it was for. Like, this isn't about carpal tunnel, people. I'm not bitching that my back hurts. I'm not a hypochondriac that just loooooooooves taking tests. I HATE THE DOCTOR. People have been pressuring me to go since September. But then I went and he gave me the perfect fodder to be a melodramatic idiot and I just want my normal life back. So that a headache is just annoying and take an Advil and not a sign that I should get my affairs in order.
I had to give up tea and cheap red wine- both things that I considered practically adopted children - and I did it because if I could NEVER HAVE A HEADACHE AGAIN I would be happy.
Ugh. And I haven't even talked about how I want to get out of credit card debt. I will be back, LJ. I need you.
You're probably plotting tumblr's slow, painful death. Tumblr is amazing, but you'll always be my forever girl, LJ. Pretty as tumblr is, I've never found a place quite like LJ. Just the right mix of private and public.
I need to start doing some deeper reflection. A lot of things in my life are getting away from me, and liking a picture of Benedict Cumberbatch or Scott Caan or Johnny Weir isn't going to fix it. For a while my problems were mostly about what to eat for dinner, and with problems like that tumblr is just fine.
But then I went to the doctor and found out two disturbing things:
1. I have tipped the scale to a number that I swore I would not allow.
2. The doctor wants me to have an MRI to determine whether or not I have an aneurysm.
Number 1 is just frustrating. I've known for a long time that I have no been diligent, responsible or committed to eating healthy things. I've known that more and more of my clothes have become less well fitting, and that more and more of the clothes that I reach for while I'm shopping are in bigger sizes. But ugh. UGH. I thought that if I just stayed mildly active it would all even out. No such luck.
I've tried repeatedly since January to get back on the right track with eating and there all these unpredictable emotional bombs that keep reducing my grand plans to ashes. My grandmother passed away in January. I went out of town to and ate like I was never coming back from vacation. I was tired. My apartment flooded. I had a bad headache. I was really sad.
Even today, I eventually gave up trying to be good and made myself a piece of toast with as little nutella as I could get away with and still be happy. And a huge, huge glass of white wine. Goodbye calorie count. I didn't do my strength training, and my cardio consisted of practicing jumps off-ice for about 10 minutes. So. Today's a fail.
Number 2, though, has been bothering me more than I like to admit because I am a melodramatic person and what if I end up having one? How on god's green earth would I EVER pay for dealing with an aneurysm? What if I drop dead tomorrow? What gospel rock song will my mother try to play at my funeral?
I'd been putting off going to the doctor for a while. I've had migraines since college, and they operate in a pretty long cycle. Then last month I had a migraine so bad I got double vision. And if you put in "headache" and "double vision" into WebMD, it pretty much just tells you to seek medical attention ASAP. So I scheduled an appointment with a highly thought of neurologist and he boredly tells me that I need an MRI in order to make sure I don't have an aneurysm.
Seeing my face, he just as boredly tells me that he's "not excited" because I don't have a history of it in my family, and if I did have an aneurysm, for it to cause double vision it would have to be in one specific place, so it's just not very likely at all, but he's gotta check.
Sometimes you need a brief walk down "What if I died? Wouldn't everybody be sad?" Lane, y'know? But it's not fun when everyday is like that. And aneurysms are the second go-to morbid fantasy after cancer for like every woman in America. And all the literature on them is terrifying.
So basically every time my neck is stiff, or I don't get enough sleep, or my head hurts, I secretly think, "Man, I hope I can figure out a way to get a puzzle in my hospital room because I hate daytime TV. IF I EVEN MAKE IT TO THE HOSPITAL."
And I'm not getting the MRI until the 25th, and even just getting the MRI scheduled was a huge fucking ordeal. To the point where I eventually started telling people on the phone exactly what it was for. Like, this isn't about carpal tunnel, people. I'm not bitching that my back hurts. I'm not a hypochondriac that just loooooooooves taking tests. I HATE THE DOCTOR. People have been pressuring me to go since September. But then I went and he gave me the perfect fodder to be a melodramatic idiot and I just want my normal life back. So that a headache is just annoying and take an Advil and not a sign that I should get my affairs in order.
I had to give up tea and cheap red wine- both things that I considered practically adopted children - and I did it because if I could NEVER HAVE A HEADACHE AGAIN I would be happy.
Ugh. And I haven't even talked about how I want to get out of credit card debt. I will be back, LJ. I need you.