I'm not the lowest stress person you could meet. This may surprise some people (though perhaps not my friends that IM with me during the day!) as apparently I come across quite often as some semi-hippie vegetarian yogi tree hugger. As much as I hate to admit it, I am a semi-hippie tree hugger - please don't tell anyone. I'm not ashamed to admit I used to be a vegetarian. Plus, while yoga is great, I freakin hate it. Seriously, it is not my thing. I'm not sure how I give off those vibes to people. What with my skull tattoos and pencil skirts and all ;)
Anyway, I'm actually fairly high strung. Tightly wound. Type A. Whatever colloquialism you'd like to use. The bottom line; I stress easily.
I'm convinced this is part of why I live a semi-hermitic life. I'm an introvert that has the job of an extrovert. That's stressful. I have to see and talk and interact with lots of people ALL DAY LONG. Believe me, it's not that I don't like people (except the one's that I end up blogging about on how my I direct your call?). It's just that it can be a lot for a person like me. When I was working as an esthitician, that was pretty much heaven. Estheticians by and large are introverts. Surprised? Right, because introverts don't like people and blah blah blah. Not true! We just don't like A LOT of people all at once or for an extended period of time. Give me 4-6 clients a day in a one on one situation where I'm helping them heal and de-stress? I'm all over that. Hairstylists are extroverts. Fact.
So, even though my job is pretty great and I like it and am truly grateful in this economy to be able to pay my bills with a bit to spare and all that jazz, it's harder on me than it would be for an extrovert. When I get home, I don't want to talk to anyone. I just want to play a couple Zynga games (don't judge me), read a bit, catch up on some Netflix action (Dexter is my current obsession), hang out with my kitties, and go to bed.
Combine the higher than would be expected stress level of my job with a pain in the arse move and what do you get? Adrenal fatigue. I haven't had a salivary test, so I can only go with my gut. My gut is usually right about things though. My gut said gluten was evil. My gut said Paleo would be helpful. My gut is 99.9% of the time dead on about people. I have learned to trust it. So my gut says it thinks I have adrenal fatigue. We're going with it.
I've been teetering on the brink of this for a while now; I think moving just pushed me over the edge. Now I have more experiementation ahead of me. Beginning with: I'm not leaving my apartment except to take the trash out, go for a walk, or get the mail. I went to bed shortly before 9 last night. Got out of bed a bit after 10 this morning. Rest is the name of the game for the whole weekend. Jealous? Hells yeah you are! Don't feel bad about it, I would be too.
Rhodiola is on its way to me. Naps are all but required. Sun is out in force for my walks. Dexter is still not in my mailbox and this is not awesome, but I'll survive on Lord of the Rings (shush! I am a nerd and I'm proud!) and sleep.
Ready? Here I go!
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
What is weird anyway?
Today a man I admire, respect and care for like a member of my family said something to me that took me by surprise. He came up to me and said "I'm mad at you." I of course inquired as to why. He informed me that he was concerned about me eating all "this weird stuff" and that I looked fine before but now I'm too skinny.
He had in his hands a bag of bagels from a chain bakery. I had in my hands a kale salad with chicken (and mind you, not just chicken, but super yummy chicken that tasted like the ginger and cinnamon I'd cooked it in. Though sadly, no cherry flavor from the cherries...more cherries next time!) covered with a homemade balsamic vinaigrette dressing.
Thankfully the first person to pipe up to defend my "weird" food was another coworker who happened to be at my desk. She has yet to jump on the Paleo bandwagon, and frankly I think is probably a bit skeptical and would rather have a bagel than a kale and chicken salad (can't say I would blame her, I totally miss everything bagels). But know what came out of her mouth? It went a little something like this: "Do you know how much bacon she eats? Don't worry, she's NOT starving herself. She's just trying to stay healthy!"
Amen.
I am trying to stay healthy.
I explained to him what a normal food day looks like for me, and that the weight loss was not actually a goal; the end to me feeling like a stomped on pile of poo was the only reason I changed anything. He was somewhat satisfied, but is still of the opinion I'm too skinny. Hell, they say you can't please everyone, and it appears that's true.
A couple hours later, I was in the deep thought room, AKA bathroom and my brain said "Hey now! What's more weird, the salad that you made yourself from a handful of healthy mostly organic ingredients, or the bag full of bagels made from genetically modified grains, fillers, binders, sugars, fake fats and goodness knows what else?" Sadly, I'd have to say that the bagels are what's normal and my salad is indeed weird. It's not normal these days to make your own food. We pay other people to do it. And don't get me wrong, that's all fine and dandy in its own way for the economy, but it's not fine and dandy for our health.
We hand our health over to everyone else. Other people cook for us, we tell someone in a white coat where it hurts and they give us a piece of paper that the pharmacist magically turns into a bottle of pills. We listen to the doctors on TV telling us we need to eat fish one day, then fish is bad because of mercury so eat flax instead. Whole grains are good, and animal fats are bad. We don't stop to look at our lives, our bodies, and think about the reason we need to see the white coats in the first place.
This is what is normal.
But that doesn't mean it's right, and it doesn't mean it's ok. We're sick and fat and tired and cranky. So are our children.
We sleep too little and complain too much about it the next day. We avoid the sun like it's a serial killer on a mission, and then stuff our stomachs full of Vitamin D so our bones don't snap when we stand up. We watch TV instead of talking to our families and friends or going for a walk. We toss back the caffeine like it's manna from Heaven just to get ourselves through another day.
That's all normal. Totally flippin normal.
So, screw normal. I'll continue to eat "weird things" and get healthier, thankyouverymuch.
Oh, and P.S., never tell a woman she's anything other than too beautiful. No matter what you mean by it, it will not turn out well for you. [Mumbles to self...Too skinny my ass! No really, I've got a booty that I still hear about when I'm walking and minding my own business. So there's no way I'm too skinny. But I would like to stop hearing about my booty. It's awesome, I already know that ;)]
He had in his hands a bag of bagels from a chain bakery. I had in my hands a kale salad with chicken (and mind you, not just chicken, but super yummy chicken that tasted like the ginger and cinnamon I'd cooked it in. Though sadly, no cherry flavor from the cherries...more cherries next time!) covered with a homemade balsamic vinaigrette dressing.
Thankfully the first person to pipe up to defend my "weird" food was another coworker who happened to be at my desk. She has yet to jump on the Paleo bandwagon, and frankly I think is probably a bit skeptical and would rather have a bagel than a kale and chicken salad (can't say I would blame her, I totally miss everything bagels). But know what came out of her mouth? It went a little something like this: "Do you know how much bacon she eats? Don't worry, she's NOT starving herself. She's just trying to stay healthy!"
Amen.
I am trying to stay healthy.
I explained to him what a normal food day looks like for me, and that the weight loss was not actually a goal; the end to me feeling like a stomped on pile of poo was the only reason I changed anything. He was somewhat satisfied, but is still of the opinion I'm too skinny. Hell, they say you can't please everyone, and it appears that's true.
A couple hours later, I was in the deep thought room, AKA bathroom and my brain said "Hey now! What's more weird, the salad that you made yourself from a handful of healthy mostly organic ingredients, or the bag full of bagels made from genetically modified grains, fillers, binders, sugars, fake fats and goodness knows what else?" Sadly, I'd have to say that the bagels are what's normal and my salad is indeed weird. It's not normal these days to make your own food. We pay other people to do it. And don't get me wrong, that's all fine and dandy in its own way for the economy, but it's not fine and dandy for our health.
We hand our health over to everyone else. Other people cook for us, we tell someone in a white coat where it hurts and they give us a piece of paper that the pharmacist magically turns into a bottle of pills. We listen to the doctors on TV telling us we need to eat fish one day, then fish is bad because of mercury so eat flax instead. Whole grains are good, and animal fats are bad. We don't stop to look at our lives, our bodies, and think about the reason we need to see the white coats in the first place.
This is what is normal.
But that doesn't mean it's right, and it doesn't mean it's ok. We're sick and fat and tired and cranky. So are our children.
We sleep too little and complain too much about it the next day. We avoid the sun like it's a serial killer on a mission, and then stuff our stomachs full of Vitamin D so our bones don't snap when we stand up. We watch TV instead of talking to our families and friends or going for a walk. We toss back the caffeine like it's manna from Heaven just to get ourselves through another day.
That's all normal. Totally flippin normal.
So, screw normal. I'll continue to eat "weird things" and get healthier, thankyouverymuch.
Oh, and P.S., never tell a woman she's anything other than too beautiful. No matter what you mean by it, it will not turn out well for you. [Mumbles to self...Too skinny my ass! No really, I've got a booty that I still hear about when I'm walking and minding my own business. So there's no way I'm too skinny. But I would like to stop hearing about my booty. It's awesome, I already know that ;)]
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