Tag Archives: mental-health

Oh Well

26 Jul

I knew it was too good to be true. The maca-cacao “latte” I’ve been making for myself as a coffee stand-in? Yeah, can’t drink that anymore. I don’t know why I ever thought that was going to work considering what a clear cut migraine trigger cocao/cacao has always been for me. I guess I wasn’t really thinking about all that. I was just thinking, “Hmmm, this tastes like coffee and it sorta gives me a buzz life coffee, but it’s NOT COFFEE so it can’t be bad.”

Then on Wednesday, I had a latte before our staff run of the play and felt, meh. A little weird. Not awake at all really and then, at the end of the night I was like, “Why is the stage light so fucking bright tonight?!? And like, RIGHT IN MY FACE?” Later that night, i went out for dinner with some playwright friends and while sitting at the bar, chatting with one of them, I realized I couldn’t even see her because I was so completely blinded by the setting sun shooting in through the front windows of the restaurant. I thought this was weird but I didn’t really think any else of it.

The next morning, I slept a little late and woke up with a headache that was similar to a caffeine-withdrawal headache and I was like, “that’s weird! I haven’t been drinking nearly enough caffeine for all that.” So I got up, felt a little groggy, made breakfast and made myself a latte. I couldn’t quite wake up all morning and kept feeling like I just wanted to go back to sleep. I started doing some work and about an hour in, I was totally unable to focus and my head was starting to pulsate.

I started to freak out. I don’t know why. It’s not like I’ve never had a migraine before. But for some reason, yesterday, the fact that I was feeling how I was feeling just like completely wigged me out. I was so freakin’ dizzy, I thought I’d fall down the minute I stood up. So I decided to stand up. Classic.

Because I like to deny that I feel things, instead of just going back to sleep, I got dressed and went to Trader Joe’s. There’s one right down the block from me in Chi-town and since there are NONE in Miami and I love TJ’s, I’ve kinda been going every day. I’m self-medicating with dried mango and organic kale. Anyhoo…

On the way back from TJ’s, I nearly started to cry. Seriously. And I wasn’t even in that much pain. But the light sensitivity and the dizziness and I don’t know, man. I’m a mess. Or I was a mess yesterday. By the time I got back to the apartment, I’d stopped crying but I knew there was nothing left to do but go to sleep. And that’s what I did. From 12:30 to 2:30.

The pain never got so bad that I had to take anything and since the only thing that has ever worked on my migraines is Excedrin and Excedrin is full of caffeine I didn’t want to take anything anyway. By late evening, the dizziness had subsided and I started getting that slightly enjoyable euphoric feeling that us migraineurs get to revel in during the postdrome. It’s the least a migraine headache can do for me considering that I tend to linger in the postdrome for several days and the other symptoms are not that much fun at all.

I went to sleep last night at 11PM and slept until 9AM. I think I woke up three times but I can’t be 100% sure. Today, no cacao. No headache. And I’m messing with when I take my supplements. Thinking maybe that might have something to do with all this too. Bottom line: I can’t have pure cacao. The jury’s still out on chocolate bars with a lower cacao content. I just wanted to write “cacao” again.

In the next post, maybe I’ll tell you about the insane fight I witnessed two nights ago. Everything they say about this city and it’s violence is true. Over and out.


You Must Gots to be Joking

23 Apr

My TP schedule for the week generally comes through very early on Monday morning. Since I didn’t know what was on tap for today when I went to bed last night, I slept in a little and checked it when I got up at 7:30. This has got to be some kind of cruel joke:

Don’t quite know what you’re looking at? I’ll help! In the top left corner of the screenshot, you will see the word “bike.” Just a bit to the right and a little above the word “bike,” you will see the description, “trainer or wind.” If you keep reading, it gets better. See the description of my workout? No? Here, I’ve enlarged it for you.

The post-activity comments are blank because, well duh, I have not completed the activity yet. But I can already tell you what I’m planning to write: “I f*cking hate you.” And I don’t know if the you I’m thinking I might direct that nastiness towards is myself or the person who loads these schedules or the wind itself; the very forces of nature that contributed to my inability to rise from the sofa for nearly six hours yesterday.

I don’t have access to a trainer, so that means I have to get back on my bike today and go find more wind. I know that I should just get dressed and get back out there. But I’m finding it extremely difficult to motivate after the brick from hell. So I’m struggling with this dilemma: do I just suck it up, get on the bike, get the workout in and breakthrough this reticence; maybe have an amazing workout? Or do I back off, just do my by 20 minute recovery run and then go to yoga later? My fear is that I am on the verge of total burn out. And I don’t want to burn out. I want to fan the flames.

When you’re involved with this kind of training, there will be challenging, wall-hitting moments and it is in those moments that you learn exactly what kind of athlete you are. Sit back, learn nothing. Break through, learn everything. This is how it went with boxing. So many nights, after working a ten-hour shift at the big bank, all I wanted to do was go home and go to sleep. But I’d lug myself and my gear to the gym where wind wasn’t the problem. Five, six, seven, eight rounds of hard sparring. With two or three different boxers. Just to mix things up. Feeling good against the girl ten pounds lighter? Here’s some body shots with the girl twenty pounds heavier. Sometimes I did well, sometimes I ended up in the locker room near tears. But every one of those training sessions made me a better fighter.

The mere thought of having to get back on that bike right now and go ride into a headwind is making me want to quit this whole endeavor. It feels very personal. Like my will is being tested. Like the universe is conspiring to see exactly how much punishment I am willing to endure. How badly I want to do well at TriMiami which is now less than a month away. But it’s not the universe, it’s not my coach, it’s not the wind. It’s just me. I’ve made the choice to do this so it’s me I’m mad at. Because me won’t let me quit.