in medias res

Living with a cat and a dog for the first time has rapidly made it obvious—to my great surprise(!)—that I am very much a cat person. This is evident in the selection of pictures that make it to my photo gallery. However, I remain defiant about my preferences and utterly unrepentant!

thus, i have started noodling around under the hood for answers and fixes: unstructuredly eliminating possible diet triggers, trying to slip in more silly little walks in the sun, more water, that sort of thing. the hottest new contestant on the elimination block this week, sadly, is sugar. now, i am a sugar gremlin—always have been. despite being aware keenly of the many studies of sugar dependence—and blah blah blah similarities to cocaine in brain effects and oh shut up!—i have been steadfast in my devotion to the deliciousness. there is, after all, an evolutionary love story playing out between man and sugar. who i am to question, let alone, subvert it?

anyway, we’ve scheduled some more tests for mid-May. yay for more data points, etc., but i’m beginning to see once again that this is something i must deal with on my own. my PCP is not inclined to offer hypotheses or help medically beyond prescribing pain relief or beta blockers. so my two leading hypotheses after a whole month of fiddling, tweaking, documenting, and testing are (a) stress and (b) some kind of insulin-triggered immunity response (i don't know what this could be and honestly, at the moment, i cannot be arsed to care).

this tracks because general anxiety around how unmoored I've been and continue to be has been very high—symptomatically even—since last winter. and of course, i have in my rear-view mirror the unforgettable four years of crushing, debilitating fibromyalgia, which supposedly was brought on by the overwhelm and panic that naturally occurs when you let an ADHD gremlin stay alive for three decades without intervention or accommodation. the point is: i get the part where my body does not physiologically know how to handle anxiety without sharp somatic—often immunity-implicating—responses. it’s cool, girl. we’re in this together. living is hard, etc. but this vile response to sugar?? to carbs??? why am i being given these battles? hate!!! and thus, every week or so over the past month, i’ve been doing a smöl “test” (only for science, obviously) where i’ll check if a tiny piece of, e.g., milk chocolate or toast will hurt me. and yep, they sure as fuck do! i had a too-sweet salad dressing the week before last and was immediately—visibly!—inflammed (shout out to eyelids—mine swell up quite rapidly; very nifty diagnostic tool). sleep deprivation hurts too, i suppose. so i’ve been trying to get ~eight hours every night, but with mixed success. then again, this is why god made benzos. 

thus, i have started noodling around under the hood for answers and fixes: unstructuredly eliminating possible diet triggers, trying to slip in more silly little walks in the sun, more water, that sort of thing. the hottest new contestant on the elimination block this week, sadly, is sugar. now, i am a sugar gremlin—always have been. despite being aware keenly of the many studies of sugar dependence—and blah blah blah similarities to cocaine in brain effects and oh shut up!—i have been steadfast in my devotion to the deliciousness. there is, after all, an evolutionary love story playing out between man and sugar. who i am to question, let alone, subvert it?

anyway, we’ve scheduled some more tests for mid-May. yay for more data points, etc., but i’m beginning to see once again that this is something i must deal with on my own. my PCP is not inclined to offer hypotheses or help medically beyond prescribing pain relief or beta blockers. so my two leading hypotheses after a whole month of fiddling, tweaking, documenting, and testing are (a) stress and (b) some kind of insulin-triggered immunity response (i don't know what this could be and honestly, at the moment, i cannot be arsed to care).

this tracks because general anxiety around how unmoored I've been and continue to be has been very high—symptomatically even—since last winter. and of course, i have in my rear-view mirror the unforgettable four years of crushing, debilitating fibromyalgia, which supposedly was brought on by the overwhelm and panic that naturally occurs when you let an ADHD gremlin stay alive for three decades without intervention or accommodation. the point is: i get the part where my body does not physiologically know how to handle anxiety without sharp somatic—often immunity-implicating—responses. it’s cool, girl. we’re in this together. living is hard, etc. but this vile response to sugar?? to carbs??? why am i being given these battles? hate!!! and thus, every week or so over the past month, i’ve been doing a smöl “test” (only for science, obviously) where i’ll check if a tiny piece of, e.g., milk chocolate or toast will hurt me. and yep, they sure as fuck do! i had a too-sweet salad dressing the week before last and was immediately—visibly!—inflammed (shout out to eyelids—mine swell up quite rapidly; very nifty diagnostic tool). sleep deprivation hurts too, i suppose. so i’ve been trying to get ~eight hours every night, but with mixed success. then again, this is why god made benzos.