Medical testing is not anyone's idea of a good time. I figured I should start off with that so no one gets pissed off. I just know that my terror of something as benign as a sleep study goes beyond the typical. It's one of those things. I do not fret over needles anymore and they tend to be unpleasant as well.
Sleep studies are actually more painful for me. The tech was even kinder than most yet the process of sticking electrodes to my head is painful no matter how gentle the tech is. That part is easy to explain. The tougher part is explaining exactly why sleeping on camera freaks me out. I know that no one can use an EEG to read my mind but it's invasive at least for me.
Add in the fact that I was already exhausted and the idea of sleeping on a schedule and you have the ingredients for a train wreck. That is where this tech bent over backwards to make it work. She let me set the schedule and so I knew that I was capable of sleeping.
The funny part is how the intense pain drove away part of my panic. As long as the headache eased, I could survive the worst case six hours of boredom. In fact, my usual sleep pattern of little naps held. I had easy access to the time on my tablet so I could confirm the passage of time.
Getting back to the point, the hardest part was walking in there to face my fears. Whatever you fear, you deserve a pat on the back when you face them. That happens to be the worst part every time.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Friday, May 3, 2013
A Smidge Better
The world isn't ending. The sky is not falling. My mood simply went very dark for a while. A long time ago, I was taught to dislike myself. I was taught about good things and bad things that you could be in life. Looking back, it isn't surprising that I had far more of the bad traits than the good ones. I liked the wrong things especially where my diet was (and is) concerned but it went beyond that. I was destined to be unloved and to have bad things happen to me.
I thank God that I met Melissa and learned that I was loved for who I am. Sometimes, I'm surprised by how few illusions she has about me. A lot of those bad traits simply are not bad to her point of view. She knew that I enjoy eating and drinking beyond the point that is healthy before she fell in love with me. We're compatible like that.
I went to her full of darkness and confessed those bad traits. It was funny how petty it all seemed out in the light. I don't mean my darkness but the things I had used to justify a moment or two of self loathing. I was worried that I was drinking too much and that triggered two reactions in me. The first was my hoarding instinct. I was digging into and taking the risk of depleting my supply of something. The second was the deeply ingrained fear of being an out of control glutton. After all, I spent most of my young life on diets that made me crave food more than anything. At the same time, I was taught that craving food was wrong.
Here are the actual facts. I am in control of my drinking according to someone who would recognize the signs very easily. Belgian Ales happen to be one of my favorite things in the world. I have been drinking more than usual because Belgian Ales were on sale including all of my favorites. Once exposed to light, I realized that Belgian Ales are the chocolate chip cookies of beverages to me. I am far worse about chocolate chip cookies than Belgian Ales because chocolate chip cookies tend to be cheaper.
For a little while longer, Belgian Ales will be on sale. I should enjoy them now while I can. I won't drink them until I'm drunk because that would be a waste. You can't taste the finer flavor notes while drinking that much. It took me 12 hours to go through a 750 ml bottle of Ommegang Abbey style ale. That's not getting drunk or wasting anything. I tasted every drop. If we should run low, we might even go out and get more.
Being in constant pain, I must have something to enjoy. Belgian Ale is a lovely treat. If only I could have some Belgian chocolate and German food but I'm not getting those. We're not made of money and my sense of entitlement is not that oversized.
I'm okay. The darkness has been purged for now.
I thank God that I met Melissa and learned that I was loved for who I am. Sometimes, I'm surprised by how few illusions she has about me. A lot of those bad traits simply are not bad to her point of view. She knew that I enjoy eating and drinking beyond the point that is healthy before she fell in love with me. We're compatible like that.
I went to her full of darkness and confessed those bad traits. It was funny how petty it all seemed out in the light. I don't mean my darkness but the things I had used to justify a moment or two of self loathing. I was worried that I was drinking too much and that triggered two reactions in me. The first was my hoarding instinct. I was digging into and taking the risk of depleting my supply of something. The second was the deeply ingrained fear of being an out of control glutton. After all, I spent most of my young life on diets that made me crave food more than anything. At the same time, I was taught that craving food was wrong.
Here are the actual facts. I am in control of my drinking according to someone who would recognize the signs very easily. Belgian Ales happen to be one of my favorite things in the world. I have been drinking more than usual because Belgian Ales were on sale including all of my favorites. Once exposed to light, I realized that Belgian Ales are the chocolate chip cookies of beverages to me. I am far worse about chocolate chip cookies than Belgian Ales because chocolate chip cookies tend to be cheaper.
For a little while longer, Belgian Ales will be on sale. I should enjoy them now while I can. I won't drink them until I'm drunk because that would be a waste. You can't taste the finer flavor notes while drinking that much. It took me 12 hours to go through a 750 ml bottle of Ommegang Abbey style ale. That's not getting drunk or wasting anything. I tasted every drop. If we should run low, we might even go out and get more.
Being in constant pain, I must have something to enjoy. Belgian Ale is a lovely treat. If only I could have some Belgian chocolate and German food but I'm not getting those. We're not made of money and my sense of entitlement is not that oversized.
I'm okay. The darkness has been purged for now.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
A Different Sort of Pain
I haven't slept well in a while again but it isn't the usual pattern. I am not afraid to sleep and dream now. I welcome the escapism. I welcome sleep as an escape from being me.Right now, I cannot stand myself. I am a greedy whiner who can never have enough. I have managed to become the guy who wants to have his cake and eat it.
My cake is Belgian or Belgian style beer. My favorite liquor store had a tasting of Belgian beers and then put them on sale. I live for this event to a surprising extent. Most of my new friends show up and we chat as we drink beer and eat cheese. I noticed the potential problem that same night. We spent a fair amount of money on beer that won't last very long. Every time I take a sip, I experience the expected delight and then I feel a loss.
Intellectually, I know that the sale is still going. We could afford to replace every drop I have drunk so far. The problem has nothing to do with the beer. My problem is that I do not like myself at all. Being alone with myself is a grueling experience. Indulging in Belgian beers makes it a little easier. If I explained it to Melissa like that, I am sure she would get me more. .bank account willing. Having that kinda power scares me.
The same metaphorical voices in my head that make me ashamed of so many other things make me afraid of being a crass manipulator. The God-awful truth behind the title of this entry is that I am getting a break from the worst of the physical pain. It's not always one or the other because there are plenty of days filled with physical and emotional pain.
When I get a break from the worst of the physical pain, I think I have some need to process the other bad stuff. The current processing method of self hatred isn't working. My head is filled with bad ideas like causing myself intentional physical pain.
When all my ideas are bad, that is a legitimate excuse to do nothing.
The old saying about getting out of a deep hole applies here. Step 1:Stop digging!
My cake is Belgian or Belgian style beer. My favorite liquor store had a tasting of Belgian beers and then put them on sale. I live for this event to a surprising extent. Most of my new friends show up and we chat as we drink beer and eat cheese. I noticed the potential problem that same night. We spent a fair amount of money on beer that won't last very long. Every time I take a sip, I experience the expected delight and then I feel a loss.
Intellectually, I know that the sale is still going. We could afford to replace every drop I have drunk so far. The problem has nothing to do with the beer. My problem is that I do not like myself at all. Being alone with myself is a grueling experience. Indulging in Belgian beers makes it a little easier. If I explained it to Melissa like that, I am sure she would get me more. .bank account willing. Having that kinda power scares me.
The same metaphorical voices in my head that make me ashamed of so many other things make me afraid of being a crass manipulator. The God-awful truth behind the title of this entry is that I am getting a break from the worst of the physical pain. It's not always one or the other because there are plenty of days filled with physical and emotional pain.
When I get a break from the worst of the physical pain, I think I have some need to process the other bad stuff. The current processing method of self hatred isn't working. My head is filled with bad ideas like causing myself intentional physical pain.
When all my ideas are bad, that is a legitimate excuse to do nothing.
The old saying about getting out of a deep hole applies here. Step 1:Stop digging!
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