Now that I’m tracking my calories, I can add objective data points to my subjective observations surrounding my comprehensive health. On days with limited stress, I am not that hungry. My hunger pangs are more of a reaction to stress than any malnourishment. Looking over my calorie charts, the spikes correlate to stressful days where I was “hungrier.” This should help me assess my anxiety levels quicker to properly lubricate and clean my mind’s gears.
If my pee smells bad, I’m malnourished.
Otherwise, whenever I get those oppressive thoughts telling me I need to eat something, I’ve learned especially recently to take a step back and assess my current mess. Am I hungry because doing so will force me away from my current task? Have I gone too long through an arduous task without doing something else? Can I take it slower?
Those are subjective, personal, and wacky questions.
Yet we’re the only ones that can really answer those questions. If I’m writing, I can go for hours and have the time of my life. If I’m in some code or spreadsheet, anything minor will stunt my progress for days. If I am in a good mental space, I can brave any encounter with any human being on the planet over anything, otherwise, I can’t even do anything.
It’s a wild rise I’m trying to reign back under control.
Starting when I get home, I will track my sleeping hours. I haven’t been sleeping well this past week because I have a new job and this is the first week of almost regular work after some training and light duty work. My mind kept empty of work things, after I left the building, until probably Wednesday. I was in the apartment-mansion and my thoughts rushed with insidious concerns over benign circumstances.
Then I’d do things to escape those thoughts.
Some nights, I got less than five hours of sleep. The skin underneath my eyes look like deep bruises, where the blood just died and if it keeps up it could turn into an infection, but at least I have one day to rest up.
Maybe I should be less ambitious with my plans for my one day off?
Or maybe I should push my current anxieties off? When you stand upon the precipice of certain vaguely annoying realities that feel too overwhelming to take on, that’s when you take a deep breath, and move.
Sandblast the shit out and worry about the details later.
Life is an absurd thing. We are intelligently stupid beings. There should be no concern over perfection, and yet, we want to have as much fun as possible. We want to have the best day of our life on every day of our life. Sometimes, it’s fine having the sand in our gears, because we can go fix it, if we know it’s in there to clean out.
Don’t let your failures weigh on your mind.
Our gears are much more resilient than we give credit.
|Sources: My personal experiences.|
|Inspirations: During my work weeks, I intend to write five essays about downsizing or selling, unless I’m not feeling that great, then I’ll ask myself “why” through writing an essay. I wasn’t feeling confident throughout the week. That was based on repeated behaviors elsewhere for being confident in one moment and then later being reprimanded. I wrote the first part of this essay before handling a particularly difficult situation where at the end I decisively acted in a direction that I felt would best resolve the situation. The gears in my mind turned quicker because the little bits of sand either sandblasted out or faded away into the ether of doing what must be done.|
|Related: Other Sober Living essays.|
|Picture: A gear I drew, obviously, without reference in about 3 minutes. The dynamic perspective was probably influenced by Revolutionary Girl Utena. I had trouble deciding what to use for the visual element of this essay so I just went with something easy.|
|Written On: June 7th [23 minutes]|
|Last Edited: First draft; final draft for the Internet.|