I am still sick... Did I mention I was sick? Violently ill in fact. Anyway, I've been really, grossly sick the last week. I've been missing classes all over the place. The patient's symptoms include, but are not limited to; fatigue, vomiting, heartburn, nausea... And other fun activities that have caused me to spend somewhere around 30% of my waking moments in the bathroom or in close proximity to it.
The doc says he doesn't think its viral. He thinks its stress (this has happened before). He thinks I've stressed myself out to the point that my body is physically manifesting my psychological state. Nice. Also, just what I need. After the dreams and all the shit about to hit the fan I'm looking forward to this whole stress induced sickness things. Truthfully, I feel relieved, a bit. The doc is going to prescribe a little somethin' somethin' tomorrow and he guarantees I'll feel better. Funny how I used to be so against medication, now I'm going "Give me the damn pills already!" Sometimes life is funny like that.
I'm looking for a yoga or Pilates class to take online, I think I need something built into my schedule that will relieve some of my physical symptoms. I've got Therapy (therapy gets a capital "T" here at C'est Etoile because it truly is an event, every time) and that helps my brain, some, but I'm thinking my body needs to get back to its center a tad more. Just for fun. Also for vanity. The pounds I've gained in the last three years bother me more than I'd like to say. Nah, I'll say it, I hate feeling this way. The numbers on my pants size matter to me. Not necessarily the ones on the scale, but the ones on my pants. I'd like to see some significant subtraction taking place. The only way to do it is to eat better and fucking exercise. I hate that. I don't wanna. I do want to feel better and stop jumping down everyone's throat all the time, the irritability is disgusting. Really.
Now I'm gonna go have lunch with my Daddy and cry about how hard life is. You can kick me any time you want...
God, I'm such a whiner.
The doc says he doesn't think its viral. He thinks its stress (this has happened before). He thinks I've stressed myself out to the point that my body is physically manifesting my psychological state. Nice. Also, just what I need. After the dreams and all the shit about to hit the fan I'm looking forward to this whole stress induced sickness things. Truthfully, I feel relieved, a bit. The doc is going to prescribe a little somethin' somethin' tomorrow and he guarantees I'll feel better. Funny how I used to be so against medication, now I'm going "Give me the damn pills already!" Sometimes life is funny like that.
I'm looking for a yoga or Pilates class to take online, I think I need something built into my schedule that will relieve some of my physical symptoms. I've got Therapy (therapy gets a capital "T" here at C'est Etoile because it truly is an event, every time) and that helps my brain, some, but I'm thinking my body needs to get back to its center a tad more. Just for fun. Also for vanity. The pounds I've gained in the last three years bother me more than I'd like to say. Nah, I'll say it, I hate feeling this way. The numbers on my pants size matter to me. Not necessarily the ones on the scale, but the ones on my pants. I'd like to see some significant subtraction taking place. The only way to do it is to eat better and fucking exercise. I hate that. I don't wanna. I do want to feel better and stop jumping down everyone's throat all the time, the irritability is disgusting. Really.
Now I'm gonna go have lunch with my Daddy and cry about how hard life is. You can kick me any time you want...
God, I'm such a whiner.
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