I’m having a good 2019, so far. (I’m already keeping track.) Heh. Ever since I leveled up in the game of life, I’m more apt to notice positivity. It amuses me as I used to be one of those people who automatically scoffed at others saying, “think positive.” As if thinking a certain way can vastly improve my quality of life. Pshaw! Cue the condescendingly tolerant reel that plays whenever I witness hippy-like behavior, courtesy of being raised in the upper midwest.
Either the community brain-washing didn’t take, or I’m a rebel. I’m presently engaging in all sorts of hippy-like behavior. I just got back from a mini-vacation in Denver. Since M accompanied me, I was able to partake of the legal variety of weed while there. (I decided I don’t need to use it very often, so mini-trips suffice over moving.) I still feel like it’s having a positive effect on me. Reverberations from reaching a state where I experienced no anxiety, I presume.
When I got home, my blood pressure meds were waiting in my mailbox. I have to see my primary care doctor in the next three months, or I’ll run out again. I suck at noticing symptoms until they bring me to my knees. Now that I’ve taken a dose, I can already feel the difference. It feels like someone just let me out from between the heavy mattresses that were crushing me on the sly.
I’m sensitive about my hypertension. In my case, it seems my blood pressure and anxiety level increase in tandem. The closer I get to freaking out, the higher my blood pressure rises. I despise having it checked with the auto-cuff. It usually starts a loop of ever-increasing numbers, until the medical person groks the pattern, and turns it off. (I’m embarrassed by this quirk because I strongly suspect I caused it during an experiment I did years ago attempting to train myself to suppress all visual signs of stress/anxiety/depression.)
It backfired, I think. I waiver between the benefits of masking to prevent stranger danger and the dangers of mistreatment due to not presenting stereotypically around poorly trained medical professionals. I’ve apprehended a resolution to my difficulties in getting racism-free care at the Sioux Falls VA. I’ve concluded my best option is to forgive the mistreatment in the past, and move forward without the baggage. (It seems kind of duh, now, but it took me a while to figure it out.) 😂
It turns out; I’m allergic to baggage. It slows me down, weighs me down, and worst of all hurts me. (I’m also allergic to pain. 🤫) My ability to reason when enduring pain is pathetic. I could work on that, or I could focus on avoiding pain when it’s a choice. I’m big on narrowing down the root, so I’m going with the latter option. Fortunately, I don’t have any chronic pain conditions, and borderline-unsafe high pain tolerance (unless it’s above the neck.) Most of my pain is a result of poor choices. (Ouch.)(Shaddup, ego.) 🙃
I’m going to schedule an appointment with my primary care doctor at the VA. When I believed this action impossible, it was due to being buried in painful baggage. Now that I’ve engaged my Superpower of Forgiveness, I’ve freed myself and can imagine a fabulous 2019: A year that includes preventative health care, lots of joy, and the Fleetwood Mac concert. (Okay, the last two are redundant, but who’s counting?) 😂✌🏾💜