Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: sickness

All the ginger tea in the world

Back at home with Shadow on my legs. Had a great time in Philly with my BFF, but traveling is not fun at all if you’re flying basic economy. I got a really good price, but that meant I didn’t get to choose my seat and I couldn’t check any bags for free. I don’t are about the bags, but I do care about the seat. I get the aisle when I can for many reasons, but I knew I’d be in the middle. It was only a two-hour nonstop flight, though, so I didn’t care as much about it for that flight. It was really uncomfortable, though, and one of the reasons I get the aisle seat is because I have bathroom issues. When I am confined, I have to pee more often. I do not know why, but that’s how it goes. I hate asking others to move which is why I get the aisle seat.  Fortunately, the guy in the aisle seat next to me (very nice guy, btw) had to go to the bathroom once so I went when he did.

Flying to Philly was a breeze. I also had my first Lyft ride because of a mix up with my brother. It was interesting. He was from Kenya, and we had a very spirited discussion about America, capitalism, and snow. Anyway, shout-out to Delta for making the flight out as painless as possible. They even had Kind bars as a snack option, which means I could actually have one. I brought five with me as my emergency snack.

On the way back was a different matter. It was a Sun Country flight, and when I went to check in, I had to pay $35 to have one overhead bag. Excuse me, what? I have come to accept that check in bags cost extra, but overhead bags???? On a flight back? That just seems sneaky and wrong to me. I also had to pay for a seat–or at least that was how they presented it. Maybe it was if I didn’t choose, they’d give me the worst seat ever. However, I chose a seat, and the screen made it seem like the plane was more than half-empty–which it wasn’t. I didn’t check in that early, either, so I don’t know what’s up with that. I did get an aisle seat at least, so there’s that.

I also have to say that the night before I went home, we went to get Indian food. There was an appetizer called Cauliflower Bezule that was both DF and GF, and I decided to give it a try after my bestie said it was really good. It was fucking amazing. Here is a Yelp! picture of it. I couldn’t stop talking about it all dinner, but the cramps started as soon as I got back to my BFF’s house. It lasted all night and into the next morning, and I would do it again because the cauliflower was that fucking good. However, that meant I had to worry about the flight home. More on that in a sec.

We were sitting on the plane, idling, and not going anywhere. This is not a good sign. Ideally, once you’re in the plane and everyone is belted in, you should be off in five minutes. In this case, ten minutes went by. Then another five. Then, the pilot came on and said that there was an unexplained light on which meant we had to go back to the gate so the crew can look at it and sign off on it. Ok, fine, but what if it meant we had to switch planes? The pilot said it should be twenty minutes or so. Which, again, fine, but what if something was wrong?


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Going into the fray

i just can't help myself.
So delicious, and yet….

I’ve started my elimination diet–or rather, the opposite of an elimination diet. The targeted diet, or as I’m calling it, “I eat what the fuck I want” diet. Within reason. I’m not tackling dairy or gluten yet–by the way, when I told my doctor I had cut them out, she said it wouldn’t be possible to test for an allergy/sensitivity because I needed to have it in my system in order to test for it. The point of this diet is to eat copious amounts of the things I think I might be sensitive to and see how I react. Right now, I’m eating a ton of hummus (garlic), and I’ve noticed that my reaction at first is a slight breathing shortage and a fuzziness inside. It’s a very mild reaction, much like when I drank alcohol. There are two tubs of hummus, one that is just roasted garlic, and the other that is ‘everything’, which means onion, garlic, and sesame seeds. Yesterday, after eating a bunch of hummus feeling slightly uncomfortable, I suddenly felt really uncomfortable. More inside fuzziness and more shortness of breath.

I should note that I’m using carrots as the vehicle for the hummus. I have found that I have a slight reaction to carrots in the past as well. My next test will be to eat the hummus on something  else–or alone, but it’s not as tasty alone. Now, I’m eating it on potato chips, which is surprisingly tasty. I think I’m pretty clear on being sensitive to something in hummus, and the next step will be to isolate what it is.

Side Note: The reason I’m doing a targeted attack rather than an elimination diet is because I want to figure it out as soon as possible rather than take months to figure it out. It’s a bit of a crapshoot (pun intended) because I might be overlooking something, and then I’d have to do an elimination diet, anyway. This is how I Google, by the way. I put in as much information as possible, then I widen the search as needed. My brother and I had a friendly disagreement about this because he put in very general terms and narrowed as he went. He said he’d rather be the one to narrow things down than let Google do it for him. This was years ago, and funnily enough, I asked him about it maybe six months ago, and he had switched to my way of Googling.

It’s the same thing I’m doing with this diet. I’m going after the obvious culprits first in the hopes for a quick and dirty solution. It’s day two, and I’ve already determined that there’s something in the hummus that I need to watch out for. Garlic and onion are both on the FODMAP diet list. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s one of the them that is causing the problem. I need to try more of the black bean hummus to see if it causes the same problems. If it does, then it’s garlic or sesame. If it doesn’t, then it’s chickpeas and/or onions.

I also bought two of the tofu scramble burritos and had one yesterday with fake cheeze. It did not seem to affect me much, and at no point yesterday did I have to race for the toilet. That’s not to say I didn’t have some digestive issues, but at least it wasn’t diarrhea. Another problem is that I may figure out that I’m sensitive to certain things, but not pinpoint what is causing the sudden diarrhea.

That’s a positive, of course, but I really want to know what it is that is causing the race for the toilet. I know what I have to do, but I am resisting it with all my might. I need to cook or at least eat foods that are singular units and not a combination of things.

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Fighting myself and my body

but probably won't.
I would love to be able to eat this.

My digestive system is acting up again. Still? Still. I don’t know what it is, but I have a sneaking suspicion. I have been eating more hummus than usual because hummus is delicious, and I get in moods where I want to eat one thing all the time. Unfortunately, my stomach has been not happy about it, and it’s making its unhappiness known in one specific way–me spending too much goddamn time on the toilet. The problem is that I don’t know what exactly it is about hummus that is making my stomach cranky, and there’s no easy way of figuring it out. My stopgap measure is that I bought black bean hummus instead of hummus that is chickpea based. Why? Because if I don’t have the same problem with the black bean hummus, then I know it’s the chickpeas. If I do have the same issue, then I know it’s most likely not the chickpeas.

I have another issue coming up. After Taiji on Friday, I had to go to the bathroom. Warning, TMI for bodily effluvia. You have been forewarned. Normally, when I eat something that doesn’t agree with me, it hits me immediately. I have to race to the bathroom within a minute or it will not be a good time for me. Let me put it in plain terms–diarrhea for days. When I’m done, I have to sit on the toilet because it will start up again in a minute or so. Then a few minutes later, more. I can sit on the toilet for up to half an hour at a time, and even then, it feels as if I’m not completely done.

Side Note: I read an interesting description of food allergies vs. sensitivities/intolerances, which was really illuminating. I know what I have is not an allergy (it’s not life-threatening), but it’s still pretty miserable to experience.

Anyway, the last time, I ate a scrambled tofu breakfast burrito with fake cheeze before going to taiji. I have had all that before with no problem. I was fine during class, but then as things were winding up, so was my stomach. By the way, winding up and winding down can mean the same thing. Funny. I made it to the bathroom, just, but it wasn’t a deluge like it had been in the past. It was solid waste rather than runny waste. I made it home and had to go again. My stomach was touch and go well into the next day.

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The road is long…and bland

my heritage.
My lifeblood.

So, I’ve been doing some lackadaisical research into what I’m intolerant to because I don’t have the energy to do a deep dive. In addition, I’m resentful about having to cut something else from my diet. I didn’t like cutting out gluten and dairy, but it was fairly easy to do so. I had a harder time with caffeine, but I don’t miss it now. The problem is that I eat the same thing pretty much every day, and to cut out one thing from my staples feels inappropriately large. I think it might be something in the nut family. I’m currently enjoying a dark chocolate peanut butter that is the best of the chocolate spreads out there (of the ones I can eat). I have it on a bagel or a hamburger bun (which is cheaper than the bagels by half), and sometimes I slap some jam on it.

I’ve not had a problem with this, but I ate a few spoonfuls yesterday sans bread and jam. That didn’t sit well with me, and my bowels were not happy with me for the next few hours. It’s vegan and gluten free, so that shouldn’t be an issue. I’ve noticed an itchiness inside when I’ve eaten nuts before, so I’m keeping my eyes on it. It’s not noodles, thankfully (rice noodles, natch), but I’m concerned it could be rice. I will not deal well with it if it’s rice. I already did not deal well with people telling me I should eat brown rice instead of white (I know, but I don’t care), and if I turn out to be sensitive to white rice, well, I am not going to be a happy camper. I’ll just leave it at that.

I’ve also noticed that I feel the worst in the morning when I just get up. Today, I had a piercing headache–the kind that turns into a migraine if I’m not careful–and a shallowness of breath. I still have the breathing issue, though I took care of the headache problem (it’s a minor headache now, which I can deal with). I’m exhausted, even though I slept for almost seven hours. That’s how I know I’m sick–when I sleep more than six hours.

I hate being like this. I hate not being really sick because I feel like I should fight through it. It doesn’t help that my mother is the type to ignore her health until she can’t. She had back surgery three weeks ago, and she was up and walking two days later. Now, she wants to walk 30 minutes a day, and I told her to pace herself. There are other issues including my father is being an ass to her. It was to be expected, but it’s still difficult. I’m thinking about going there for a week or two, but that would come at a great cost to myself. I’m worried about her, and while I knew what would happen would happen, it’s infuriating to see it play out in real time.
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Swimming under water when I’m not a fish

on a quiet basis.
Depression hurts.

Months ago, I read an article about living with chronic depression and suicidal ideation. More to the point, the article was about how it’s difficult to talk about it without people freaking out. I’m not saying it’s not understandable–mentioning suicide or not wanting to live is deeply uncomfortable to hear. The impulse is to rush in and placate the person, say it’s not so bad, or give them a half-dozen reasons why they should want to live. Especially in America, we are not comfortable with death, and my theory is because we are so removed from it.

The piece really resonated with me because I can’t remember a day when I woke up thinking, “I’m glad to be alive.” There were long periods of my life when I actively wanted to be not alive. Note that I did not say I wanted to die because I’m afraid of death, but I most certainly did not want to be alive. I liked to joke that my negativity is the only reason I’m alive–I had more fear of dying, convinced that whatever was on the other side was worse than what was in this one. I hated life, though, and everything about it. I hated me most of all, and I would go over every day in my mind what I hated about myself. The list was long and seemingly never-ending.

It’s weird for me to think about those days because I was a completely different person back then. It’s as if it weren’t me, and I feel that way about most of my earlier incantations. I don’t have any connection to them, and I don’t know if it’s normal or not. I feel some sympathy for the younger mes, but I don’t feel as if they were me. It could be dissociation or it could just be normal growth. It’s hard for me to say.

Recently, I had a bout of wanting to die, and it was really strange. It wasn’t me. I mean, I wasn’t consciously thinking it–it was an external pressure. Back in the day, it was me wanting to not live. This most recent bout, it wasn’t that at all. I mean, to get a bit more nuanced, I go through most of my days not wanting to be alive. Or rather, I’m indifferent to it. I don’t see the point, and I don’t know what I’m adding to the world by being here. I will say it’s a huge step up from I used to think I was actively toxic. I had the mindset that I started each day with a negative amount of points, and I had to claw my way to zero in order not to be a sum negative to the world. I don’t know why I had this mindset, though I’m sure it had something to do with my very critical childhood, but it persisted through my thirties.

It was a trap, of course, because I started every day at a negative (indeterminate) number. Even if I managed to make my way to zero (in my brain, which I never did), any good points would be wiped out overnight. I can say that now and see it with such clarity, but while I was in the middle of it, it seemed like the way it should be.

Side Note: For years, I had a voice in my head that I dubbed The Dictator. He (and it was a he) would order me about, saying what I should and shouldn’t do. He was capricious in that what he deemed appropriate was, well, pretty much the same as my family, but hardened into a rigidity that was dangerous. I felt helpless to stop it, and it took many years of therapy and taiji to quiet the voice. I don’t know when I stopped hearing it, but it’s been gone for some time. I’m glad about that, but what’s replaced it is more insidious. It’s not a voice, but just a feeling of general malaise. You would think it’s better, and it is in general, but it’s also harder to combat. It sounds so reasonable when it’s saying unreasonable things.

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Dealing with my shit as best I can

My parents are coming for their annual visit in a week, and I am not ready. I am never ready, but I hate that I put off doing the shit I need to do before they get here until the last minute. I need to clean, which is an intensive thing, and I always vow to start early. I never do. It ends up with me cleaning the fridge at three in the morning the night before they come, contemplating going inside the fridge and shutting the door. I also have some chores outside the house I have to do before they get back which include the car.

Amusing anecdote: I called a garage to set up an appointment, and I asked for the times they had available. The guy said, “1 o’clock, 2 o’clock, 3 o’clock.” Then he stopped and my brain immediately shouted, “ROCK!” I managed to stop myself from yelling it out loud, and I answered him with a half-laugh. I am An Old.

It’s a funny story, but it took me forever to make the phone call. Rationally, I know it’s not a big deal to make the call and go to the appointment (for a bad tire), but my brain is wired incorrectly, and it takes everything I have just to make the goddamn phone call. Going to the appointment won’t be an issue, but making that phone call? Took me weeks to force myself to do it. I know it’s not rational. I know it’s silly on my part. I know that the mental energy I use to avoid calling would be better sent doing literally anything else. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I remind myself that it’s not a big deal. A weird side effect is that once I decide to do the difficult thing, I become obsessed with it. I have to make a cancellation of a trip for my mother, and there is a glitch on Orbitz that won’t allow me to cancel that way. I’ve tried several times, and now I’m on hold while waiting to talk to an actual person. By the way, I hate when you’re on hold, and they interrupt the music in order to have the automated voice assure you that you are valuable to them before returning back to the music. Don’t get my hopes up like that! Also, when one song is twice as loud as the one before it, that’s irritating as well.

Sigh. Moving to health issues. I think I’ve figured out what set off my stomach the night before last–the tomato-based spaghetti sauce I had with my gluten-free elbow macaroni. The minute I ate it, my stomach clenched, and I was racing to the bathroom. The biggest problem for me with diarrhea–there’s a sentence I didn’t think I’d be writing–is that it’s never a one and done. It wouldn’t be so bad if I eliminated everything in one go–but, no. It’s me sitting on the toilet for ten to fifteen minutes, several times in a few hours. It wakes me up in the middle of the night, and it’s the first thing I have to do when I get up the next morning. Since I eat basically the same thing every day with slight variations, I can usually pinpoint the problem to a certain degree. I’m fairly certain the tomato-based sauce is the trigger this time. But, I’m also wary of peaches and cherries. I know the right way to test is to eliminate a bunch of things and then slowly add them back in, but that seems tedious as well as time consuming. Also, I’m not particularly wedded to tomato-based spaghetti sauce, so cutting it out is not a problem for me. I’m pretty sure it’s the tomato-based sauce because I had the same meal minus the sauce last night, and it was fine. I added a spicy mayo-based dipping sauce instead of the tomato-based sauce, and it was fine. Gluten-free elbow macaroni, dairy-free pepper jack cheeze, roasted chicken, and the spicy dipping sauce. Oh, and spring greens thrown on top, which I ate separately. It’s a quirk of mine that I eat veggies separately, even if they are incorporated into a dish, unless it’s something small like slices of mushrooms.


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Not down with the illness

Remember the incipient migraine I mentioned a few posts ago? Well, it turned out not to be that, but it kinda was that at the same time. The pills I took were, indeed, migraine meds, but not the extra-strength ones I normally take. How do I know? Because I bought more migraine meds that had the same letter/number combo printed on them, and they were the regular migraine pills not the super-strong one. That’s why taking two didn’t do the job, and now I’m taking three at a time. Is it helping? Yes…and no. I still have the low-level mini-graine symptoms (headache, even more sensitivity to stimuli, nausea), but it took a backseat because other shit has hit me hard. Thursday night, I was hit with extreme diarrhea. The kind that has you glued to the toilet for a half hour, and then you’re back ten minutes later. Shadow did not know what to do with this except lie down by my feet and meow loudly in a demand to be petted. Which, fair enough, but it’s not something I could concentrate on when I was having internal issues.

I had to rush to the bathroom more than once that night, and it was the same when I got up in the morning. Before that bout, I had a four-hour nap because I was just so fucking tired. The reason I’m bringing up the nap is not just to complain–though that’s part of it. It’s because normally, when I have an issue with a diarrhea, it’s related to something I ate. This time, that doesn’t seem to be the case in that I hadn’t eaten in six hours, and the urge to shit came over me suddenly. That’s normal for when I’m dealing with this (literal) shit, by the way. It’s sudden, and it’s dire if I don’t make it to the bathroom. It was better on Friday by a margin, and it was much better yesterday (Saturday), but today it’s come back. Not with a vengeance, but I am uncomfortably aware of it. I had to go to Cubs earlier today, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience.

The other reason it was a bad experience is because it’s fucking hot again. It ‘feels like’ 94, and I felt it the second I stepped outside. Hot, oppressive, and life-sucking. I was outside for less than a minute between my garage door and my car door, and I just wanted to go back inside. I can feel my mood sour no matter how little or long I’m outside. There have been studies done about heat and aggression, and it seems pretty conclusive that the hotter it gets, the more aggressive we get. I can attest to that on a personal level, and I don’t seem to be able to do anything about it.

I’m tired. I’m depressed.  I just want to make the world go away. I was going to write a whole post about something else, but I just don’t have it in me right now. Hopefully, this bug or whatever it is will go away soon.

Going back to my comfort gaming–Dark Souls III

back into the groove.
Fire to the face, Iudex!

I did it. I reinstalled Dark Souls III on my laptop. When I’m sick and exhausted, I can’t play a new game. I don’t have the bandwidth to figure things out, especially as I tend to like so-called difficult games. I know it’s a funny thing to say, but Dark Souls games are comfort food for me, and, yes, I mean specifically Dark Souls and not Bloodborne or Sekiro. Although, I will say the latter was pretty easygoing until the end game, but it’s not the same as Dark Souls.

I’m going to say something rather controversial in the Souls community, but I don’t give a fuck, obviously. Dark Souls III is my favorite of the Souls games to play*, and I’ve beaten it probably twenty times. Because I’m tired, depressed, and weary, I’m taking the road most traveled–being a Pyro. Then, adding strength later on so I can wield my beloved Lorian’s Greatsword.

How’s it going? Kinda rough, I gotta say. The buttons are similar, but just different enough to mess me up. Iudex Gundyr, the tutorial boss, has never given me a problem as a Pyro. He’s weak to fire, especially in his second phase, and I can finish him off without even getting close. However. A (Xbox One) is jump in Sekiro, and it’s really fucking important to use it in combat. B is dodge step, and it’s ostensibly usable in combat, but not really. I used it minimally, and I used A every fight. On the other hand, A in Souls is pick up an item, talk to someone, etc, which, obviously, has no use in a fight. B is roll, which is god in Souls. So, Iudex was coming for me in his abyss-y, snaky form, and I pressed A and did–nothing. I frantically pressed it several times until I died.

That’s been my biggest problem so far. I’m up to the Road of Sacrifices, and I’ve died…six times I think. Once to Iudex (embarrassing) and once because I forgot jump is to click in the left thumbstick, which is just bad mapping and once because my cheese for the Darkwraith at the bottom of the elevator (make him fall into the elevator maw) didn’t work the first time. One of my problems with not dying as much in this game is that there is a mechanic that is built upon dying. There is a PC, Yoel of Londor, who offers to ‘Draw Out True Strength’–which is free levels. Of course, nothing is free in a Dark Souls game, and you get the hollowing curse from Yoel.

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The vicious sickness cycle

I’m feeling better than I was two days ago, but yesterday was not great. I went to Cubs to pick up some provisions, and I ended up feeling dizzy and nauseated. It’s a good thing I’m not having sex right now because I would be worried about being pregnant, but hopefully that won’t even be a possibility soon. I’m having issues with getting older, but the end of my period is not one of them. I’ve been very fortunate in that I’ve only had my period once every three or four months for most of my life, and it’s only three days at a time. The pattern was light on the first day, heavy-ish on the second, light on the third, and very light spotting on the fourth. Maybe. Sometimes, it was only three days. I got vaguely crampy and possibly a tad bitchier (though it’s hard to gauge one’s own bitchiness), and my boobs hurt a bit. Other than that? Didn’t even know I had my period. I’ve been incredibly lucky.

Side Note: I was concerned when I only had three periods a year, so much so, I asked my doctor about it. She said as long as you have two a year, it’s fine. That surprised me because I had been taught (as I’m sure most people have) that it came monthly. Hell, it’s even called the monthly visit. There was nary a mention that it didn’t have to be every month. Then again, I was also taught that the schedule was rigid, whereas mine fluctuated wildly. I had to keep a pad with me at all times because I never knew when it was going to happen.

Funnily enough, when I had sex, it was more regulated (obviously). It came every thirty-five to forty days, but it still was as light as before. In the past few years, my schedule has become more regular (roughly every thirty days), but the period itself is much lighter. And in the past, say, six months, it’s all but disappeared. My mother hit menopause when she was 55 and said it was a breeze (my mother is known to gloss over difficulties), and I’m already experiencing perimenopause. Hot flashes, which, by the way, makes it harder to know what is sickness and what is perimenopause. Flashing hot is one of the symptoms I have when I’m sick, and it’s not fun to try to decipher when it’s sickness and when it’s period-related.  One helpful hint is that if I’m alternating boiling hot and freezing cold, then it’s sickness. I don’t get freezing cold unless I’m sick.

My sinuses suck. A lot. I hate them, and I think they’d say the same about me. We don’t get along, and we only tolerate each other because we have to. I mean, I can’t really live without my sinuses, so there’s that. I wish I could, though. I’ve gotten over wishing I could just be a brain bobbing around without a body, mostly in thanks to taiji. I’ve accepted that my body is part of me and that it’s not just a meat sack carrying my brain around.

I’ve become more in touch with what my body is saying, but I still miss the mark a lot of the time. I’ve had a history of eating disorders, and I still don’t know exactly when I’m hungry. I was used to ignoring the cues–along with emotional cues–and that’s how I became anorexic. Now, I still sometimes ignore my body telling me I’m hungry, but I can at least feel the literal hunger pangs. There were times when I couldn’t tell if I was hungry or not, and then I’d decide I wasn’t.

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Health on my mind

leave me alone.
Go away.

I’m better. I’m worse. I’m both at the same time. I don’t have a cold any longer. How do I know? Because I’m sleeping six hours a night again if that. When I’m sick, I sleep seven to eight hours, and when I’m really sick, nine. That’s extremely rare, however, and it’s not something I want. Why? Because when I sleep that much, I feel like absolute shit. Or rather, I sleep that much because I feel like absolute shit. It’s the bare minimum my body can do to remain somewhat upright. The fact that I’m back to six hours a night means that I’m no longer sick.

Side note: I fucking hate that being better means less sleep. There is so much evidence that getting at least seven hours of sleep a night is optimal, nay, necessary, and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s taken me twenty years to build up my sleep from four hours a night to six hours, and I don’t know if I have twenty more years in me to add another two. In addition, there is some evidence that we sleep better in chunks rather than one full slate of eight hours. Much like eating. It’s better to eat several times throughout the day than to have three big meals. Sometimes, I think of how different my life would be if I could actually be refreshed upon waking up. Alas, it is not meant to be.

My left ear has cleared up as well, so that’s good. Just yesterday, I was wondering if I was ever going to be able to hear in my left ear again, and now I can. It’s not fully cleared, but it’s about 90%, which I’ll gladly take. Those are the two positives, which I’m recounting in part to remind myself that my health isn’t all shit. It’s just mostly shit.

Side note II: I had a hankering for a burger last week. There’s a Culver’s near me, and they have a gluten-free bun. It’s ten minutes away. It’s not difficult to go and grab a burger and fries. At least that’s what I told myself, but minutes passed by, and I wasn’t actually getting off the couch. I was just sitting there like a dumbass, bitching on Twitter about how I wanted a burger. This has been a problem for me since I was much younger. Even when I wanted to do something, the effort to actually get up and do it was immense. I knew I would enjoy the event once I got there (or enjoy the burger in this case), but it still seemed too much for my brain to force myself to do it without arguing for twenty minutes. I know it’s a part of my depression, but it’s one of the most irritating parts.

I finally hauled myself off the couch, changed into something presentable, and hopped in my car. Just as I was about two blocks from the Culver’s, the road was closed. Shit. I forgot it was construction season in Minnesota. I had to detour, and it’s not something I’m good at. Even though it’s my neighborhood, I never go on the side roads. I probably could have looked it up on my phone, but I adhere to the ‘keep driving around it with the destination in mind, and you’ll get there some day’ mentality, which probably isn’t helpful. Why? Because I have spatial issues, and I’m horrible at directions.

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