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The show that never ends
I managed to completely cock up my blood sugar last night, leading to much snivelling into my pillow and other puerile nonsense. I swear I thought I was back in junior high or something.
I'd only had 560 calories for the day when I got home from work; made dinner, but only ate half of a small bowl of it (suddenly wasn't hungry any more). And then had a bunch of donut holes. Fucking genius, me.
Thus I was hyper most of the evening, but as we were getting ready for bed I started sliding down the slope of moodiness, ending up in the deep snowbank of pathetic self-loathing depression. (This is not, I hasten to add for those Gentle Readers who have not been on this ride before, any sort of clinical depressive thing; there's no fear of actual harm, just a lot of that whiny "Wouldn't They All Be Sorry If".)
So, much internal angst about ugly/fat/unsexy me, which I kept internal for awhile but my clever pooky picked up on it, as he is wont to do. He and Julie talked to me for a bit about these issues before I suddenly was hit by the lightning bolt of "duh. low blood sugar!" Went downstairs and had a bite, but it took some time to kick in, so we kept talking for awhile. Steve pointed out "oh yes, you're so unattractive I had to mandate a limit of four boyfriends"; Julie commented (after I'd had a rantlet about how stupid it was for me to angst so much about this kind of trivial crap) "Congratulations, you are a normal woman." :) Blood sugar comes and goes, but warm fuzzies last much longer.
After all this when I was settling down to sleep, I got hit with another thunderbolt: since we figured out I had blood sugar issues, I've been wondering why I never had this problem when I was younger; did it develop over time, or what? Well, last night it struck me--in those days, if I felt depressed I dealt with it by _eating_. Duh!
Today I'm still feeling a little mis-aimed, but it should pass. Not all of the thoughts I have when I'm sugar crashing are completely without basis, and I realized I've grown a few issues that need tending to.
Aikido. Monday. Come DSL or high water.
I'd only had 560 calories for the day when I got home from work; made dinner, but only ate half of a small bowl of it (suddenly wasn't hungry any more). And then had a bunch of donut holes. Fucking genius, me.
Thus I was hyper most of the evening, but as we were getting ready for bed I started sliding down the slope of moodiness, ending up in the deep snowbank of pathetic self-loathing depression. (This is not, I hasten to add for those Gentle Readers who have not been on this ride before, any sort of clinical depressive thing; there's no fear of actual harm, just a lot of that whiny "Wouldn't They All Be Sorry If".)
So, much internal angst about ugly/fat/unsexy me, which I kept internal for awhile but my clever pooky picked up on it, as he is wont to do. He and Julie talked to me for a bit about these issues before I suddenly was hit by the lightning bolt of "duh. low blood sugar!" Went downstairs and had a bite, but it took some time to kick in, so we kept talking for awhile. Steve pointed out "oh yes, you're so unattractive I had to mandate a limit of four boyfriends"; Julie commented (after I'd had a rantlet about how stupid it was for me to angst so much about this kind of trivial crap) "Congratulations, you are a normal woman." :) Blood sugar comes and goes, but warm fuzzies last much longer.
After all this when I was settling down to sleep, I got hit with another thunderbolt: since we figured out I had blood sugar issues, I've been wondering why I never had this problem when I was younger; did it develop over time, or what? Well, last night it struck me--in those days, if I felt depressed I dealt with it by _eating_. Duh!
Today I'm still feeling a little mis-aimed, but it should pass. Not all of the thoughts I have when I'm sugar crashing are completely without basis, and I realized I've grown a few issues that need tending to.
Aikido. Monday. Come DSL or high water.
no subject
*applause*