So I saw this pain psychologist, and he ran me through a personality test. I scored high on anxiety. So he referred me to a biofeedback specialist, but apparently even if you have slight asthma, that can ruin biofeedback. 🙄 Another medical option stymied by some other diagnosis. What else is new?
But then I saw this by @VoiceoverPete and it hit me: It's not that I'm anxious... It's that my anxiety is totally justified!
Give a listen:
That bad thing frequently comes to pass, and sometimes catastrophically. The pain— interruptive pain— is guaranteed to show up, if not now, within 20 minutes of now, usually less than 10. It may be a stop & take medicine pain level or a stop everything pain level, but it's coming.
And I fall super short of normal all the time. Several roommates over the years have expressed concern over the years. I was forbidden from hand washing dishes because I can't feel the dish to know it's clean and I can't see if they're clean because the same nerve damage ruined my eyes too. I have no confidence my "best" is good enough.
Thus, is it any flipping wonder that I'm anxious? It's actually pretty astonishing how calm I am. But to be fair, it's boring now. Unexpected? Sure. There's no warning. But it's pain so familiar, so... Tuesday, that it's just not worth a fuss.
The thing I hate the most is I'm such a waste of a human being like this. All this potential to give back but— crap. Hold on. It's medication time again...
But then I saw this by @VoiceoverPete and it hit me: It's not that I'm anxious... It's that my anxiety is totally justified!
Give a listen:
That bad thing frequently comes to pass, and sometimes catastrophically. The pain— interruptive pain— is guaranteed to show up, if not now, within 20 minutes of now, usually less than 10. It may be a stop & take medicine pain level or a stop everything pain level, but it's coming.
And I fall super short of normal all the time. Several roommates over the years have expressed concern over the years. I was forbidden from hand washing dishes because I can't feel the dish to know it's clean and I can't see if they're clean because the same nerve damage ruined my eyes too. I have no confidence my "best" is good enough.
Thus, is it any flipping wonder that I'm anxious? It's actually pretty astonishing how calm I am. But to be fair, it's boring now. Unexpected? Sure. There's no warning. But it's pain so familiar, so... Tuesday, that it's just not worth a fuss.
The thing I hate the most is I'm such a waste of a human being like this. All this potential to give back but— crap. Hold on. It's medication time again...
