This is what I had for breakfast:
gluten free crackers, strawberry-banana milk, and watermelon. Not pictured, a handful of pills designed to make this collection of calories not hurt. Nevermind actual nourishment...
It's been a while since I've written about my digestive and other food issues because so much has been going on. And it wasn't that I magically got all better. In fact, when my dad died, I kind of gave up trying to continue my recovery. It meant more stress in an already stressful situation, and I wasn't really that interested in trying to have a better outlook on my body and the fuel it uses while grieving my father.
I stopped taking my supplements (which, was a really bad idea), because they all got packed up and moved around during the move. I tried to keep my anti-gluten pills nearby at all times, but that's only so effective. I also tried to keep D3 and B-complex on hand so that I would have enough energy to get thru my life. I was trying to try again, but then Dame died, and -- well, if you know me, you know what happened.
So, my health has deteriorated. I no longer so much have a complex about eating, (altho I am still fighting against ideas about myself that are not helpful), but I've developed a much stronger sense of food anxiety because I keep getting sick. Whether it's just THE WORST INDIGESTION EVAR or an abdominal migraine, or general anxiety and depression keeping me from eating, I've become much pickier than I've ever been*, AND barely able to digest anything**.
As before, lack of calories destroys my body's ability to regulate all of the things (especially blood sugar), causing anxiety and paranoia, AND depression; making me an anti-social wreck which is really bad for me since I'm pretty extroverted. This means I stop trusting people who usually bring me comfort, and that makes me more anxious and paranoid and so on top of the massive amounts of grief I'm experiencing, I'm also unable to find solace because the only person I can really handle being around most of the time is my dog***.
I stay up late watching movies and tv shows I've already seen, try to work on my art but emotional strangulation and creativity don't really go very well together. And then there's mornings. Now that I've given my body this expectation that when it asks for food, I'll feed myself: I get hungry in the mornings. But that hunger hurts. It hurts like a wound. Not only is my stomach aching for food, but my intestines are aching from the previous day's adventure in attempted sustenance, and other parts of me are hurting because of the lack of nutrients. Getting out of bed is a battle for me. Not just because I'm depressed and grieving, but because moving around means using energy and that energy needs to be sustained by something and in the morning, I don't know what that something could be.
It's always been like this. The pain reinforced my EATING IS BAD complex, because eventually if I ignored the pain enough, it would go away and I would feel fine. How fucking insane is that? I mean, do you even understand how nuts it is to have yourself convinced that not eating will make your hunger pains go away? Do you get how messed up it is that the pain of not eating, and all of the negative side effects that has, is worse than the pain from putting food in you? Or just how scary it is to be afraid to eat? I don't think most people get that, and not really having anyone to talk about that with is kind of a problem.
But, I can't go on ignoring it. The pain doesn't stop at my stomach now. Other digestive organs have begun to be affected by the inflammation that goes on in the rest of my body*', and so this insane swelling goes on that, while it doesn't really cause any bloating or anything, is so painful it keeps me awake at night. As if the rest of what's going on in my body wasn't enough of a party.
This weekend, tho, I hit my limit on ignoring what's been happening. I went to a party, but instead I got sick and had to go home without really having any fun beyond the first few hours in the afternoon*''. I managed to get a couple of hours of sleep after crying almost the entire drive home, and when I was able to really process what was going on, Ten and I made a plan:
Step 1: I'm going back to being a vegetarian for a while. Last year's experiment in veganism was horrifying in its lack of cheese, but I did start to get better while eating mostly vegetables. So, I'll give it another chance, but there's got to be some dairy in there so that I don't go mad. No eggs tho. Fuck eggs. Those things are assholes.
Step 2: No more booze. At least, not more than one drink in a sitting. And for right now, none. Alcohol causes inflammation in the body (along with a number of other substances I enjoy, but at least losing this one won't drive me mad).
Step 3: Take supplements again. Every day. Including a protein supplement that is easily digestible and meant to help repair the insides of your insides. Other stars include the supplement my doctor gave me for my stupid gal bladder, digestive enzymes, probiotics, coconut oil, glucosamine, L-glutamine, Cal-Mag, and the D3 and B-complex mentioned earlier.
Step 4: I'm going to the doctor tomorrow (you may have already read the footnote), to talk about what's been going on with my intestines, hands, and anxiety. I don't know how much he's going to be able to help me right now (since you know, no health insurance), but it's worth talking about and seeing if there's anything else I can do aside from what's outlined here.
Step 5: OBAMACARE! I'm going to qualify for a subsidy. I'm going to figure out how to make sure that I get the best health insurance I possibly can for my subsidy buck and then I'm going to get all the healthcare. ALL of it. Okay, I might try to skip the colonoscopy, those sound horrifying.
I have a bit of a plan, but I don't know how well it's going to work. I made a pretty good dinner for myself tonight, after not really eating at all today. I do have some things made that I'll be able to eat tomorrow, but I'm still concerned what's going to happen on the inside of my insides between now and then. It's not a pleasant thing to think about when your insides are healthy, let alone when they feel like they're melting.
Too much information?
**Vegetables are the worst.
***Who is awesome, but really doesn't fulfill my need for human contact.
*'Inflammation that may be attacking my joints, specifically my hands and neck, as well. Before you say anything, I'm going to the doctor tomorrow.
*''I also had a bit of an emotional meltdown, and there wasn't really anyone available to comfort me after that.