I haven’t been feeling myself this week. It hasn’t helped that the days have also been melding together. Through the stomach cramps and nausea, the scratchy throat and the flip between constipation and diarrhea, I have resorted to accept it for what it is, but I don’t really want to. The fear of weight gain haunts me as well, which is the main reason why I can’t let this go. I feel as if I am a member of a detective agency tasked with my final case before I get demoted to desk duty for too many fuck-ups on the job. I feel that if I don’t figure out the case in front of me I am doomed to let it haunt me. There goes my opportunity for employee of the month at the detective agency.
The combination of caffeine, which I swore to give up and made it a good 4-5 months of doing so, the lack of sleep I’ve been getting combined with a small amount of exercise, and underlying urge to look up every symptom I have on the internet haven’t been helping either. You know, maybe the case has been already solved; maybe I have my answer right here. But no, it has to be something worse. My mom, who has acted as an informant during this week, has provided some leads as to what is wrong but has also said to not worry much about it.
So with this in mind, here are a list of possible things wrong:
- Lack of sleep
- A stomach ulcer (this has been a possibility)
- The overconsumption of greasy foods and the lack of proper exercise due to stress
- Anxiety fucking me in the ass because I read the news
- A cold that I caught from who knows where and that’s the kicker because I’ve been hanging with friends, who also have friends, who also have friends, who also have friends. That cycle doesn’t end.
- A cold that came from the cold weather
- Low blood sugar
- Social anxiety, especially public speaking which can come from stress
- Is that a cold sore or acne on my lip?
- Scabies or lyme disease
- The fact that I don’t have a dog and am very close to buying one
- Weight gain
It brings some light into this case to know that I’m probably not the only one feeling this way. That’s how quickly anxiety can take control of the situation. But who else admits this? Not very many, and that makes me feel worse for even admitting it. Oh, but once it’s out there you can’t take it back and that’s when more anxiety kicks in. People so quickly claim you as an attention whore or some egotistical maniac who wants some sort of sympathy to feel better about themselves, or as some patient zero intent on purposely spreading their illness across the masses in order to fulfil their evil task for the day. Or at least that’s what you’re afraid of. Maybe I’m just making it worse than it is. Or maybe I’m not.
But oh, the relief that comes from finally admitting how you feel to those around you and them not immediately judging or being quick to accuse you of being dramatic. Something that can make you feel better you want to cling onto until it finally becomes reality, the ideal leads to the never ending case. Yet I know that this feeling of sickness will go away soon, hopefully. But just like my urge to spend money on things I don’t need, such as a dog, it’s very difficult.