Accept and Manage My Health

Sunday, I was recovering from feeling ill on Saturday, and so chose to pamper myself with a purchase of high quality shampoo and conditioner. A broke-ass millennial, my go-to’s are usually vividly packaged sulfates.

Monday, I made the most of time in between obligations. In the midst of dogsitting, and helping another friend move, I allowed time to gather myself, listen to music, and calm down. I also enjoyed spontaneity when my brother asked me to hang out on a whim. Our evening consisted of spamming our mother with Snapchats.

Tuesday, I got through a long workday, in which I had to attend an after-work event. Usually I enjoy these trips out of the office, but today was challenging. I had a headache that started out annoying at the beginning of the day and maxed out at horrendous towards the end. Long story short, I had to call in sick to work the next day.

Wednesday, I broke down, and finally went to the doctor after a year of dealing with digestive issues, which have led to eating less, which have lead to headaches, etc. etc. Yay for body changes that smack you in the face in emerging adulthood! Time to tackle the problem.

Thursday, another doctor’s appointment. On my way to figuring out what the culprit is, and how to handle it. Ironically, the stress of tests is less horrible than the stress of the unknown. I’m relieved to be on my way to a better understanding of what I’m dealing with, and on to a treatment plan/diet that will work, rather than the guesswork I’ve been doing for the last year. I’m ready for solutions.

This week, happiness has meant starting with accepting my situation and to find solutions, rather than grinning and bearing it, my usual M.O. I’ve got to take care of me.

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I’m Wrong & Worried Sick

An Update: I Was Wrong

The last day has been draining. After not hearing back from him in 24 hours, no reply to the answer to a question he had asked, I started to worry. I messaged him ironically, “It’s been 24 hours, please let me know you’re alive, and I’ll leave you be,” assuming he was sick of me.

Last night I found out he is indeed ill, and in the hospital even. I got woozy. I feel I should set the record straight. I don’t know what to think anymore… Were the two prior postponements due to feeling ill? Have the precedents set by other men before him ruined my ability to be objective? The one time I refrain from granting the benefit of the doubt, he turns out to be telling the truth.

I’m far more jaded than I realized, the hurt from the past deeper than I thought. I quickly judged a friend, who, in my defense, has withheld what’s been happening in his life from me in general, only adding to my lack of trust, but my judgement made in fear of another rejection weighed the most in mind, in spite of perhaps emotionally knowing better. My prior hurts the loudest voices in my brain.

Why did this time have to be different? I wish he was lying. Right now, I wish he was like all the others. Instead he’s sick, and I’m worried sick.

How did I choose to be happy today? Well, before I knew he was telling the truth, and the prognosis, I danced while no one was watching, releasing the emotional pain, and the stress from work. Disjointed movements, and pained gestures, lyrics to “Somebody Else” by the 1975, and “One” by Ed Sheeran both felt like painful fantasy, the fantasy that I meant more to the people who’ve left me than I know I do.

In spite of feeling like hell, I managed to feel a release. I let go, I stopped caring about what I looked like. I just moved with the music, my sweat a cleanse of toxic emotions.

The evening took a turn upon the news. I’m still in shock. I’m still worried. I don’t really know how I’ll choose happy tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow will have to be measured distress. I’ll try to stay calm. I don’t think I’m capable of more.