The Mono

Normally I wouldn't go and read a blog about weight loss. My own fitness level is something that I've been taking control of, and I'm still a little emotionally shaky about body-image, so reading about other people worrying about what they eat and how much they exercise is not a great idea at the moment.

I've made an exception for this one, because when you boil it down, it's not about weight loss -- it's about taking control of your life and building self-respect. And the author manages to say all sorts of things that I've never managed to really articulate, no matter how clever I am with words.

The introduction. If you're skimming, go down to "How I was ahead of Dr. Phil", and absolutely read "The inevitable extended and tortured metaphor".

This is what I needed to hear. Not for weight loss or physical health issues, but for the ingrained habits which are ruining my life in other ways. It's all mental, whether it's about weight or relationships or school or whatever. It doesn't matter what the topic is -- when you've spent your whole life thinking one way, the struggle to change your mental landscape is still going to be that same tug-of-war. It's just a matter of identifying the guy on the other end.

The rest of the blog has been the same way (I've read all but a couple of the early entries); I started with "Horrible Pieces of Advice Provided By Fools". There's a lot of misguided "advice" out there, and she's a very strong-minded woman who won't stand for that crap.

I need to write her a note of appreciation and maybe find out how she's doing these days.

Well, that's the second month in a row that I've flat-out forgotten about the sick plant clinic. I was planning for it, was thinking about it as recently as Thursday... and woke up this morning at 10:30, reminded of it only because I had written it on my temperature chart for this morning. I tore out there, had about 45 minutes left and closed it out.

I was furious, of course, but in retrospect I'm so shaky and weak today that I'm not sure I could (or should) have gotten up at 7-something. Not much I can do but aim for August 4... maybe I'll set a cron job to send me email Friday afternoon or something.

Given how many years I've been doing the clinic, this forgetfulness is a little strange... but I suspect it's a function of being burned-out in all sorts of ways. My life is quiet right now, but that just means that the exhaustion of the last six months is coming down on me harder; I have emotional and mental burnout along with simple physical exhaustion (remember when I wasn't sleeping more than five hours a night for a couple months?), and that means that I'm bound to drop, fumble, and miss a few things. My long-term memory of events/names/etc. is even worse than usual too, which is saying a great deal. The effect will fade as I get some time to rest... I'm hoping that in a few weeks I'll be more consistently "present" and less prone to having my mind wander off.

In the meantime, if I end up bidding oblivious or flaking out because I've forgotten something we were talking about only two days earlier, forgive me. It'll pass.

I took an early lunch today, since the lecture on the basic structure of DNA was boring me nearly to tears. (A double helix, with purine/pyramidine base pairs in the middle? You don't say!) I'll take a little time to go over the section on PCR later, though he may not have gotten to it due to the power-failure delay at the beginning.

I'm doing a great deal better. As I suspected, I seem to be able to sleep soundly now, with normal dreams (well, normal for me). My peace of mind appears to be genuine, back for the first time since the start of the year, before I suddenly lost two of the three things that make me happy. Those have been restored now, and finally so has my mental equilibrium.

It is, as always, a dynamic equilibrium -- I'm too passionate for it to be otherwise -- but the foundation is as solid as ever. It's bothered me that I've been so wrapped up in my own issues that I can't listen to those of friends; I'm giving myself a couple of days of peace, to rest, but after that I'll be doing some catching up.

I keep testing the quality of the calm, and finding that the anxiety as a whole is really gone; I found the linchpin and removed it, and the whole mess dissolved. There are still things to be solved, but I have no worry that I can handle them now.

I think I'm back.

I stopped thinking somewhere between Clayton and Livermore.

The anxiety began to disappear somewhere between Livermore and San Leandro.

I was actually peaceful by the time I had collected hugs (and gas) in San Leandro and took 13 toward home.

Let's hope it stays that way.

Bed for me.

It has come to my attention that I have a hot button that not all of my friends know exists. It's probably a good idea to mention it.

If anyone -- and I mean anyone -- brings up the topic of indoor vs. outdoor cats in more than a discussion of simple logistics, or mention of what they do with their own pets (not why), it is the fastest way to get me dizzy with fury. I am aware of this, and I will leave a discussion politely if it turns to the philosophical angle, but do not ever try to tell me what I (or people in general) "should" do with their own pets.

It is not productive to have this button. I am not cultivating it. Yet every time it comes up, it seems like an avenue by which people can preach freely and impose their own views with the confidence of self-righteousness, rather than a weighing of real-life factors. It's happened so often that I'm not rational about it anymore.

No further discussion, please.

I got lost today. Forty-five minutes later I appeared in San Pablo.

I went up 80 to Pinole Valley Road and plunged back in. After a while, when something had eased a little in my chest, I waved the necessary incantations, made a wish, and I was in Pleasant Hill. I stopped by Coldstone on my way back to Concord.

This week has gotten less chaotic, but not much easier.

It must be the end of the quarter -- I'm exhausted.

So far as I can tell, it was that damned biochem midterm that did it this time. Then there was Consonance, of course, and no chance to catch up on lost sleep since... but I don't just need sleep to recharge right now. I need time off.

I was doubting recently that I would still qualify as an introvert. I'm not wondering now -- the need for time to myself, specifically time in my own head, is like a thirst. No matter how much I sleep, I'm not going to feel rested until I can spend many more hours reading, or writing, or puttering in the yard. I spent the train ride up reading a book instead of doing flashcards, and I'm aware that I feel much better, even physically, than when I got on the train.

I have three-hour lunches today and next week, which do help. My lab final is next Wednesday, and then we're into finals week... what I'm dreading is that I scheduled most of my spring break for being social. I hope the plane trip out to Indiana can be spent relaxing.

I'm always tired at the end of every term; something always seems to come up that makes me overextend myself. I'm starting to guess that the lack of time off exhausts me as much or more than anything else. Next quarter doesn't look a lot better.

If I'm not reaching out and saying hi, or responding to email promptly, at least you have some idea of why. It's not that I don't like you guys... it's that I've been missing somebody else more. Namely, me.

Stupid of me to read "Hush" again. Especially now.

There's a reason it draws me, and I'm glad I have it as it's an excellent story, but... gah. Too close to home.

Still have to study tonight. The Batman was having trouble with "distractions"; I know how he feels.


Edit: It would seem the majority of my problems are related to a chemical exposure rather than anything emotional. Good news: there is no underlying distress. Bad news: it's still really, really lousy timing.

I've had a little time to just veg tonight. I thought I would get something more done, but you know, this time has been so scarce lately, it has taken on a value much greater than usual. I caught up on livejournal instead of studying biochem -- and that's okay.

I've found a phrase in mind as I've been sitting here, and it crystallized as I finished catching up and went to get a drink.

This is my life.

It isn't anyone else's. I don't have to justify these choices to anyone else. My life is my own; it doesn't belong to school, or my friends, or even the mindless needs of the plants and the seasons. I don't have to be productive all the time, or at least, I don't have to use anyone else's definition of "productive".

If I get a B on the midterm next week, or a C, it won't matter next quarter. It'll be forgotten in two years, irrelevant in five.

What matters is that I spend this time wisely -- and only I can define what that wisdom is.



It feels like some things in my head are getting shaken loose, bit by bit. It'll be interesting to see where that goes over the next few months.

My state of mind could be categorized as "very good". Exemplary, in fact.

While a lot of ambiguity still exists in my life, a lot of the discomfort and anxiety over it has been resolved over the last two days. I don't know how the pace of my classes will be for the rest of the quarter, but at least I have a ballpark feel for the effort required. I'm not square with the college over units and satisfactory academic progress, but it'll be a while before I really have to implement the solutions I know exist. And my social life is, remarkably, as stable as I need it to be.

I've managed to get my chin above the emotional waterline, and I'm currently in a state that I have often wished for. I don't have to have everything defined and confirmed okay, because I feel capable of handling what the situations may ask of me, so I'm calm. I'm content with what I have at the moment, and not worried about the future. And that's good.

It's odd. I've been starting to have the occasional "empowerment dream", in which some guy who really strikes me as bad news comes up and does something inappropriate... and I am completely unperturbed. I actually chuckled a little at the one last night. My dream-self found that guy, and his complete failure to notice that I was wearing a shirt emblazoned with "Personal Safety and Full-Force Self Defense", very amusing. I was certain that I could take him out any time I liked, and that meant I wasn't scared at all. It puzzled him.

In real life what I did was unwise and would give mixed signals, and I am nowhere near so self-assured that I can just laugh off people like that even if I thought it was a good idea -- but I find it interesting that my subconscious feels that confident and safe. The dreams started about a year after Impact, which is probably how long it took to fully assimilate all of it... it feels like a good sign.

I was looking forward to Friday Night Waltz all week. Washed my green dress, bought green ribbons for my shoes, even had new earrings (courtesy of cyan_blue) that I was going to try on. Called eyeofcanaan, figured out that we would be meeting there.

And then, while I was preparing, I found that everything I did made me want to go less.

After wondering whether I should go, I finally discovered that I'm running a very slight temperature, and that decided me. Sigh. I was already a little shaky emotionally and physically, and apparently my body is ready to throw in the towel and call it a week. So I've been planted in front of the computer for the last few hours, barring a short trip into the yard to try out my phone's GPS capabilities. (verdict: about a half-mile off.)

I should probably finish making the food I'm planning to bring for tomorrow. I don't feel like food prep -- don't even feel like eating dinner at all, though I'm forcing myself to. Still shaky in a lot of ways. I think that exposure last week really took a lot more out of me than I thought. I've been having a lot of problems with being cold.

Bah. Bed early tonight, if I can manage it.

My week: ( here, have a cut )