Underneath my yellow skin

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.

Back to my diet. I know what I have to do. A strict elimination diet. Or conversely, only eat one thing at a time. Judicious note taking. Rooting out the problem food/s. I just don’t want to. There are a few reasons for this. As I said above, I am resisting the idea of giving up another food because I feel I’ve already constricted my menu so much. The second reason is that I don’t like using writing as a chore. I do a lot of writing every day, and adding another obligation in the writing category makes me unhappy. The third reason is that I am just over it. Yes, I know that part of having a chronic condition is constantly having to deal with it, but I don’t want to. Yes, I know life is not fair, blah, blah, blah, but I just am over it. It’s funny because the last time my parents were here, my mother was thinking that she might have a lactose/gluten intolerance after listening to me describe what happens to me if I eat either. She decided she wanted to try a gluten/dairy-free diet, and I offered her my fake-cheeze and cashew milk. Plus, gluten-free bagels. She tried the cheeze and cashew milk, then later told me while making a face that it didn’t taste like the real thing.

Which, of course it doesn’t. Although the cheeze I have right now is the closest thing to the real thing. Anyway, she gave it up after one day, declaring loudly about how difficult it was. I guess? I have this weird thing in my brain where I’ll drag my heels in doing the thing for months at a time. Then, when I decide to actually do the thing, I just do it. It’s because I think about it for those months leading up to the actual doing. My BFF told me that she was so surprised when I got two cats because it seemed to come out the blue. Then, when she talked it over with her hubby, she realized I had been talking about it for years beforehand. So, from the outside, it seems like I’m inertia, inertia, inertia, CONSTANT MOTION, inertia. I’m 100% or nothing, and I have no in-between. I’m not saying this as if it’s a good thing, but I know it to be true about me.

Side Note: I once was explaining to my therapist that I put up with a lot of shit until suddenly I didn’t. She looked at me and dryly said, “You know that’s not a healthy way to be.” I said, “I’m not saying it is–but it’s how I am.” I think that’s the most frustrating thing about me. I know many of my flaws, but I don’t necessarily change them. It’s not as easy to change them as it is to identify them, and it makes me feel doubly stupid because I know what is wrong, damn it.

Right now, though, I’m focusing on getting to 80% health. I don’t think 100% is attainable for now. I wished I had something that was more objectively identifiable because it feels like I’m just being lazy this way. I know it’s not true, but in my head, I have a little voice telling me to just get over it. I know I have to pull myself together and figure out exactly what is wrong. I will report back when I actually make this happen.

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