As I am learning more and more about myself I am discovering things that I either forgot that I enjoyed or just had no time for them.  A big one is music, perhaps the biggest.  Music used to be the only thing I cared about.  I loved discovering new bands and reading about them in obscure punk rock fanzines that my Dad used to bring home for me.  He worked in Ottawa and would frequent this news shop near where he would stay during the week.  I was the only one in the Valley that had frequent access to these magazines and I would scour them for new bands that I could keep my eye to locate their CDs.  Today I do the same thing with the internet, and in record shops.  I am in love with Google Play music, I can plug a band into the search engine and start listening to them and all sorts of bands that are similar.  This is amazing!  If I had this as a kid I wouldn’t have left the house EVER

I also forgot about how I loved comics as a kid.  I remember when I was young I spent a long time in the hospital with some kind of sickness in my stomach.  I was so sick I couldn’t eat or drink for weeks.  I was on an IV for fluids for so long that I thought the pole with wheels that held the fluid that was keeping me alive was going to be only friend for the rest of my life.  My mother brought me a bunch of comics, everything to from Howard the Duck to Archie and some Mad magazines.  I read this stuff probably twenty times over.  When I was drinking I used to think about going to get some graphic novels to read, but of course never did.  I have since been frequenting the comic book store and I have been enjoying picking through the comic book racks.  It’s one of those places that I feel like a certain sort of outsider hangs out in.  It’s a place without judgement and everyone is super friendly.  Just my kind of place, something right on the fringe of cool.  My comfort zone.

I am feeling really good today.  I woke up before my alarm and the birds were greeting me to plunge forth into my day.  But with the death of Anthony Bourdain I have been thinking about something that I have kind of noticed a lot lately.  I have never told anyone about this but I have a tendency to idealize suicide.  I am not saying that I am suicidal.  I don’t want to die, I realize that it is a sad and permanent solution to a temporary problem.  But when I get into those low waves of depression it sometimes becomes a constant nagging thought, something I can’t get out of my head.  I will be driving along the road and start to wonder how bad will this hurt if I just swerve into this dump truck.  Or as I am taking my medication at night, what will it be like if I take this entire bottle.  Probably the craziest one is I’ve been sitting in a coffee shop near a cop and wondered if I could get his gun and use it on myself before he stopped me.  The depression and anxiety will finally be over, I can rest.  I know that this is irrational thought, that I would never again get to see my friends and family.  But with this much going on in my head it is sometimes a very overpowering feeling.  I don’t want to exit this life prematurely, I have come to see far too much beauty in this world to want to give it up.  I have become attached to people again and it is lovely.  I have reasons to be here.

I want to believe that if this feeling ever gets to be too much that I have a program that will help me get through it.  I have people that I can reach out too.  I have a sponsor whom I need to begin leaning on more.  I pray that everyone I know has the same access to these things as well.

 

What a major difference taking a pause and evaluating my situation can make.  I have come to realize that food is more than just something I need to eat to survive.  I had a few days where I was ending up with huge surplus of calories and I couldn’t figure out what was going on with my energy levels.  When I was at the gym I was getting dizzy and feeling like I was going to pass out.  I have tried for a couple of days now to eat more and make sure that I am not going hungry.  So far so good.  I have had a couple of really good gym sessions.  I managed to get through a 5km run yesterday and it felt amazing.  I’m not even that sore today.  I’m going to try to ensure that I am eating quality foods that have energy and nutrition not just salt and fat.  So in other words, no FUN food.

We’ll see how this goes.

I am so frustrated at things right now.  I have been feeling really good about my progress at the gym lately.  The last couple of nights excluded.  I struggled last night to keep my motivation up and get through my workout.  Tonight however was a fucking disaster.  I was excited to get there and see everyone and hang out before, or after, or whatever.  As I got there I started to feel a little weird.  Hard to describe type weird, I don’t know if it was hunger, or nauseau or whatever….  But I got onto the treadmill and was feeling motivated to get a fantastic 5 km done and feel awesome after.  But after only 5 mins I started to feel really tight and dizzy.  I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath and I had a few moments where I stopped because I thought I might fall over.  I couldn’t focus at all.  I tried a few times to walk it off, stopped and caught my breath, tried again…nothing seemed to work.  I couldn’t find the strength to keep going.  I had to stop as the dizziness progressed to where I had to sit down.  I went and found one of the chairs at the front and calmed down for a few minutes.  I eventually made it home and after pausing lots and feeling really odd driving home.  I went and checked my blood sugar and it was really good, 4.5, right about where I would expect after a clean eating and workout day.  But holy fuck am I ever pissed off now.  I was getting ready to quit the club that I go to.  I was so upset with myself, why can’t I just get through a short fucking run.  I used to do these  5kms 5 or 6 times a week.  I had weeks where I would run 3 or 4 10kms and feel pretty good after.

If I stop and examine the evidence I guess I am being too hard on myself.  Or so I am told….I just felt so worthless and frustrated.  I was wondering why am I even fucking bothering with trying to get more healthy.  It doesn’t matter here.  Shit doesn’t change in my life if I do or don’t.  I am down another pant size and some of my shirts are too big, big fucking deal, I am not any happier.  My home life hasn’t changed.

I also realize (later) that if I go in tomorrow and manage to get through one I will probably want to run around the gym doing fist bumps and high fives to everyone.  Even the “bros”…….

pause, breath, reflect, examine, listen, and be grateful.