I missed Valentine’s Day. Again.
Not that anything exceptional happened. I’m about as approachable as a cactus when it comes to romance. Actually, that’s a lie; the cactus has better chances.
Still, remember my last post? Mm, the one where I was also late? Yep, that’s the one. Well, I can say now that I do have a sort-of-maybe-viable medical excuse for my long absence periods.
I have a borderline abnormal Thyroid activity, and I’m both relieved an irked. No, that’s my second untruth of the day- I’m fuming. I know I’m not the only one to go through this, but at the moment, I feel unsupported by those I put my faith in with my health. It’s not entirely their fault, but nothing more was done or acted upon, or provided to put my mind at rest.
Essentially, way back in 2015 when this blog was still a baby and I was experimenting with my posts and what I felt like doing at the time, I mentioned that I’d been super stressed and went to the doctors because I’d been sleeping at unnatural times of the day. I never do that unless I’m really poorly- and have always done this since I was a child, according to my Mother. I’m more inclined to take her word over a medical professional’s at the moment. After all, we both nearly died on the operating table and she has raised me for nearly twenty-one years. Plus, she’s my Mother. She’s got that weird omniscient thing going on.
Anyway, long story short, I went for bloods that came back fine when the receptionist rang and told me the results. We chalked it down to stress, and that was that. I went off to Uni to become a neurotic mess that screeched along with the magpies at five in the morning and sobbed like a burst water main for my first week there.
I was fine all of my first year- actually lost a lot of weight because all I did was live off of soup and pasta. Came home relieved of examinations stress, and still watched what I ate each day to maintain the weight loss.
Since I’ve started back for my second year I’ve been so tired… I put that down to commuting stress, early starts and unrealistic deadlines. However, I’ve also been really cold, gained a shit tonne of weight, was achy (all over, and my joints have been popping a hell of a lot more than normal), worried about my cycles (TMI?), and bloated up even though most days I don’t even contemplate looking at bread or starchy foods. Again, I put it down to stress and that my body clock was changing again,as it is want to do every several years or so.
I went to see my local GP again a few weeks ago because I’d had dry and scaly skin in random places. Having had contact dermatitis before because of some manky chemicals left in the Art Studio’s sink, I wondered whether it had flared up again in a milder variation. My GP essentially told me that my skin needed urgent Dove product nurturing, and that I had needed to go back after my results in 2015.
Apparently I needed to go back in to speak with a doctor two years’ prior because my results came back a bit worrying. I’d struggled for nearly two years always feeling tired and unmotivated because of their crossed wires. I was, needless to say and pardon my potty mouth, pissed. But very moisturised; Dove certainly works.
So, on Valentine’s Day I went in for a blood test and spent the rest of my day worried and achy.
My results, which were explained to me a few days ago at another meeting with the doctor, came back better than the first set two years ago. I’m still abnormal, but not to a degree that warrants medication. For a second time, I was pissed…
Don’t get me wrong, I’m relieved that relatively speaking I’m ‘okay’; I won’t be dependent on medication for the rest of my life like my Aunt for now. But I’m really upset that I’ve been told not to worry about something that impacts upon my daily life, and to ‘come back in six months’ time’ for yet another blood test that I know will only yield the same result. I can’t go to sleep easily, and when I wake up I’m instantly tired- even on rest days. I control what I eat, only consume enough calories (roughly 1200) to help me for now to maintain and perhaps lose a bit of weight. I exercise regularly, but find it difficult to do so when my body hurts and it becomes- to risk sounding pubescent again, such an effort. I want to get back into horse riding to help me shape the muscles I lost after I stopped that activity, but most certified centres will only take riders that weigh 13 stone or below. That hurts me. I know it’s to stop injuries to the horses’ backs, but it hurts because I know that unless I starve myself or live off of vapours for six months (and have that be detrimental to my health), that I won’t miraculously lose weight. It hurts because I won’t be able to do what I used to love wholeheartedly in my youth. I was a fairly advanced rider, and wanted to get back into the saddle now that I had the means to do so.
The worst issue is that I have no motivation for my studies, and it is killing me. I know that my Department will understand if I don’t get an essay to them on time, but I don’t want to be that person- I want to be punctual and invested and engaged like I was before, but I just don’t have the drive. It’s such a crucial time for me now, with exams on the way and a dissertation to plan; I’ve had several ideas in the past that have just shrivelled up in my mind because I’ve never had the inspiration to follow them up.
I’m sorry if this has got rant-y. No, actually, I’m not. Because anyone that reads this poor excuse of a blog that I’ve been running for almost three years now deserves to know why I’m so inadequate at being the owner of a blog. So I’m not sorry for being rant-y, but I am sorry for poor and irregular updates.