July 24, 2014 § Leave a comment
I’m back to drinking black coffee. Still a full pot, sometimes I get stressed and forget to have any caffeine. I end up thinking I’m terribly ill (more likely, just hungover) and in fact, it’s just my caffeine withdrawals. I remember when I used to get horribly hungover, either by drinking too much or my really horrible bulimic days of all day binging and purging until I inevitably crashed onto a floor in my apartment somewhere. I’m probably very lucky that it never happened on my walks to the grocery store during these times. Maybe the adrenaline rush kept me going enough. In most cases, it was likely the purging that would do it, dehydrating and fucking up my electrolytes like crazy.
In either case, I was always horribly sick in the morning. Enough to keep me from getting out of bed, finding myself light headed and woozy to stand for too long, let alone walk to the kitchen to make myself a pot of coffee. It would hurt my hand as the pot filled under the tap with water. I broke a decent amount of them in my time. I always knew that I’d feel infinitesimally better after a caffeine fix in my body, but it would take me hours and hours.
I’m planning on being productive. As much as I can. I really should get back to my painting, especially some of the pieces that have involved anatomy, now that I have access again to some of the virtual anatomy resources on the web with my return to Queens in the fall. I’ve been focusing on the writing stuff I’m doing for my prof/counselor in Belleville. She wants me to write about….me, really. I’ve been able to access all of the journal articles I’ve needed my Queen’s registration for as well, so I’ve been obsessively downloading and reading articles on eating disorders, sexual abuse, social phobias, mental illness and the like. It’s been exciting for me because I’ve always been able to spend an inordinate amount of time reading article after article or page after page on Wikipedia or something similar about various topics, one piece leading to links of another and another. I’ve even gone through a good couple of hours reading about compression fractures and spinal injuries caused my seizures, since my goddam back still hurts a month after my little episode of medication withdrawal. Stupid me. BUT, I’ve always been slightly touched with hypochondria, so I keep becoming nervous that I cracked my spine somewhere, or herniated a disc. But then, I’m usually scared of doctors and having my body touched that I just pretend to relax, relieving my anxiety by reading these articles somehow, even though that might seem counterintuitive.
I remember when I learned in swimming lessons years and years ago, about someone who jumped into a pool and landed on the bottom feet first. They’d cracked their spine and had never known, because of the way she’d landed. They only discovered the injury when she ended up admitting herself to the hospital for back pain. That’s not me. I could have ended up sicker and sicker or dead so many times these past few years but I just keep on ticking. That’s what I tell myself, anyway. I’m in my 20s, aren’t all of us supposed to believe our young selves invincible?