[Rowing Machine] 2020: Week 08 {218.5} “Vat Of Acid”

“It’s not going well.[1]”
“Can you try to go into your safe space?[2]”
“Yeah, that place isn’t helping.[1]”
“Did it turn into a vat of acid?[2]”
My colleague and I both laughed, but somewhere between leaving my apartment-mansion and getting into work, my health had declined to such a degree that I was seeing psychedelic migraine auras. I had to leave about a half-hour later. I hate feeling so sick I can’t even think clearly.

I think it was walking up the stairs.

If I move around too much, my head will hurt. I think that’s the hypertension side of my headaches, which relates to blood pressure, maybe. I’ll be seeing Neurologist-Number-Two/Doctor-Number-Eight tomorrow morning, so within twelve hours of writing this essay, I should have an idea of how to take apart these multitudinous pains.

My head’s spinning. I can’t focus.

Even putting things away onto the downsizing shelves to sort through, doing minor repairs like gluing a piece onto a future-retro gaming rack, or even just laying on my stomach to do some back stretches with inspiration from Dumbbells is enough to make things worse.

This isn’t a way to live.

I’m hoping to get some positive results if only because there’s something about going to the emergency department over an issue that probably helps people think that, hey, this is actually an issue. Before going, I was getting so much hassle from my insurance company. The rep that was handling my case was rude and despondent when I asked for updates – where, of course, there aren’t any updates, because there’s nothing that we’ve done yet to help you out!

I feel nauseous.

There’s so much more I wanted to do tonight, but I just don’t have the energy for it. Completing this essay will help me complete my daily writing goals, which was 500 words before but now is approaching 2,000 words, but that’s proving to be a challenge since even a day after I had to leave for home, sick, early, I still can’t think straight.

I get minutes or hours of clarity only.

Everything else is plagued with typos and pains of various kinds. I think my body is actively trying to shut me into emergency repair mode so it’s doing whatever it can to stop me from doing too much. If that’s the case, there’s some sort of physical or mental infection or inflammation that’s wreaking havoc across my body and mind.

So hey, why not just go sleep, right?

I’m in such pain all the time that I can barely sleep for more than three to six hours at a time before waking up with some issue or another. I’ve made no changes to my mattress and although it’s not the most comfortable mattress I’ve ever slept on, I should be able to at least sleep somewhat. Without that, my body can’t repair itself. The emergency department doctor, Doctor-Number-Seven, thought I had sleep apnea. If my body’s in constant pain, it can’t sleep well.

I had to ride out a wave of pain just now.

I mean, I am pushing myself more than I need to by writing all this, but I think it’s important to capture this information and release it out. Here I am, a healthy person, inflicted with such debilitation through such a long period of time that I haven’t been able to even fulfill basic 5-minute rowing sets reliably in weeks or months. Something is seriously wrong and it’s ruining my health and potentially my work.

Nothing I can do but just push on forward.

I am learning not to waste any energy superfluously. If I don’t feel well, then I shouldn’t be doing much more than the minimum. Minimum concern for situations. It’s making me more efficient in some areas. I don’t have the energy to care about certain details. Just write it down. I don’t know if I have another half-hour or hour to edit or write more poetic material, so this is what I have the energy to give, and this is what you get to read.

Sorry it couldn’t be better, but I can’t make it better now.

I feel awful and because headaches are a subjective pain, there’s no objective cure for them. If I were in a vat of acid, then there’d be cures for that. People could see the acid, they could see the vat, and they could recoil. This is all internal pain and it all fades in and out without rhyme. I can be coherent and feeling good for hours then BAAAAAAAAAM.

ugh i feel like shi t \right now

I don’t know hat else to do but just focus on writing this and then going to bed. I won’t even stop to corret the typos just because it’s such an intense pain right now. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want to take any of the medications I’ve been prescribed beacuse it’s not been effective. The brain scratches I get are scary. I don’t like being unable to even do light calisthenic exercises.

I have no energy.

I don’t feel like doing anything fancy. I don’t want much more than my health back at this point. This is how it feels like ot be stuck in addiction. There’s no cure for it. You don’t get to feel good anymore. All there is is just the constant pain or the knowledge that you’ll be going about your day, thinking about how great things are, and then you’re gonna see something that’s going to entice you, even seven years later. These headaches are like that. When I’m under the infleunce of a headache, I can’t function properyl. I might as well be drunk right now. All I want to do is return to my nromal. I want to think clearly and act with foewardthinkgi progress. I Can’t even think straight rigt now.

All I can do is hope that I can get into the doctor tomorrow morning and get headache relief.

Quotes: [1, 2] Me, then a colleague.
Sources: My fitness experiences.
This week’s weight: 218.5
Last week’s weight: 219.5
Difference: You’ll be glad to hear, dear readers, that I am on the mend now. As a spoiler, it was neck pain causing my headaches. If you don’t catch this note, then enjoy my continued writings from a few weeks ago.
Inspirations: At first, I was just writing about my general health, then my headaches started taking hold.
Related: Past weekly column entries.
Pictures: No, thanks.
Written On: 2020 January 22 [32 minutes, from 9:23pm to 9:55pm, listening to assorted. WordPress.]
Last Edited: I scheduled this for publication on February 16 but made no changes other than edits in this box here.


My big goal is writing. My most important goal is writing "The Story." All other goals should work toward that central goal. My proudest moment is the most recent time I overcame some fear, which should have been today. I'm a better zombie than I was yesterday. I'm not better than you and you're not better than me. Let's strive to be better every day.