Sometimes I wonder whether I’ve been making any progress at all over the past couple of years, and last week… well, let’s just say I have something to ponder. However, it’s worth noting that it’s not so much a vicious cycle as a triangle…
Okay, here goes my latest bout of self-analysis which might just give someone out there in TV Land a way out of a similar cycle: it started the week before, when I felt a lot of hope on the Tuesday because I was convinced I was going to meet a girl at, or after, my usual yoga class. When this failed to occur, however, I actually managed to get stupidly depressed on the Wednesday, brooding on my loneliness and isolating myself from my work colleagues, right up until I ate lunch, whereupon I felt remarkably better (and then faced off against that belligerent douchebag on the Northern Line that I mentioned before). I had another, dating-focused yoga class on the Friday, and thought I’d met someone that night, but she never responded to my text message and so became another “girl to forget about” over the long weekend.
Ah yes, the bank holiday weekend: perhaps proof that throwing away old stuff won’t magically improve my life, as I finally took my old posters to the dump (I now have more interesting canvas art on my walls instead… and a lot of Post-It Notes to help with my Server 2008 studies!). After all, on the Sunday night I noticed a Facebook update, which otherwise I might have missed, stating that my old Michigan roommate is now engaged. Not unlike the situation I had in late 2012, I couldn’t avoid brooding on the fact that I’m not even getting dates regularly, and it’s still 1998 since I had anything significant happen on that (ahem) score.
Thus it was that Bank Holiday Monday was a miserable experience for me, even though “best mate” drove us to the Castle to climb. However, it might be as simple as me not having had a proper breakfast before setting off. My mother’s had me eating a combination of seeds, nuts, dried fruit and live yoghurt for breakfast for some time now, and it’s stood me in good stead; a single banana, however, didn’t stay my hunger, and I had a lousy time, despite doing my favourite activity with my best friend. However, once again I felt more cheerful once I’d eaten, though malnutrition seemed to result in me being unable to concentrate on a vegetarian cook book, and so I went with something easy for dinner.
I was still feeling off-colour on the Tuesday, and so didn’t go to yoga, but I wonder if this was the very first stages of… the cold I’ve now managed to come down with. This came to pass on Wednesday, a day mirroring the previous Wednesday in that I felt more sad and broody after eating lunch, and ended with me crying alone in my room and wishing my life was completely different. That helped me feel better, but the damage was done, and although I’ve managed to eat reasonably well and keep my spirits up since then, my respiratory health has gone in the other direction (though at least the sore throat part is over with).
It’s worth noting that something strangely similar happened when I was in America two years ago, as I had my share of girl troubles on that trip around the western states as well. I’d been having a good time for the first couple of days, but it was when we camped on the Colorado River near Lake Havasu that I found out the girl I was interested in had a boyfriend back in Denmark (or so I was told by another girl from another European country, who I was also into); I ended up brooding, and also not eating enough for dinner (thanks to the vegetarian choice involving broccoli), and couldn’t even get to sleep because I foolishly tried to do so when everyone else wanted to stay up drinking and chatting!
Fortunately the next couple of days (including the Grand Canyon) were fine, but it all happened again when I tried, a second time, to score in Las Vegas, on the party bus; although everyone was pleased to see me come out of my shell and partially strip (hey, my personal trainer was having an effect even in those early months!), somehow I thought I’d blown any chance of happiness in my life and so went back to my motel room, alone, to brood; the next day I hardly had anything to eat, until the tour guide spoke to me and said no-one had complained about my behaviour, whereupon I found myself able to reintegrate myself with the group and feel happy again.
Alas, the damage was done: a couple of days later, when we’d been camping in Bishop, I started coming down with a cold, apparently due to getting a sore throat from snoring (or hanging a wet towel over my tent, as we’d been to hot springs the night before). This made it hard to keep up with the others at Yosemite, and indeed stopped me going out at night in San Francisco…
(And when I finally managed to drag myself out on the last night to Hermosa Beach, well, I’m lucky I didn’t get arrested, or at least slapped… but let’s not talk about that!)
Thus, on two occasions two years apart, I’ve been left with the thought that malnutrition, depression/anxiety and physical illness are all inextricably linked. But is it simply that not eating properly makes me depressed and also prone to catching cold, or is depression an early symptom of a virus (both in 2013 and now, I’ve felt better emotionally as I’ve felt worse physically), or does depression make me prone to illness and also suppress my appetite? Remember my depressing post in 2013, when I noted that eating too much protein seemed to cause depression, but depression also stopped me eating properly… is there a simple answer?
All I know is, I’m going to make damn sure I eat properly, especially my morning meal — I remember how badly I felt for a long time living on Caledonian Road, when sometimes my breakfast would be a bottle of chocolate milk I’d bought while walking to work, and I’ve been nice and stable lately, so it’d be a shame to waste it. This, of course, excludes the three-month period roughly corresponding to November 2014 to January 2015, in which I felt sick, anxious and helpless, and I think that started with me not eating or sleeping properly during my time at that horrible job.
It was the anxiety and feelings of helplessness that led to me getting myself fired, as I didn’t conceal my intention to move on well enough from my boss’s boss — and while getting fired from that job meant I was at least eligible for benefits (which wouldn’t have been the case if I’d quit of my own accord), I don’t want to go through that experience ever again. And if simply making sure I eat right is all I need to ensure I don’t get miserable again, I’ll do my best.
It’s worth noting, however, that my spirit rose considerably on Wednesday evening, when, for the third time this year, I was asked out by someone who had seen my profile online… no, wash your minds out, I said my spirit rose! I’ve probably jinxed it just by mentioning it here, but I have to continue feeling hope, otherwise I’m already dead. Put it this way: if my date this week doesn’t work out, I’ll use the nuclear option next weekend: I’ll post here about what kind of woman I want to meet!
Unless I get arrested because the above construes a threat to commit an act terrorism, of course…