self.fix()

Well, self.improve() anyway.

I'm fed up with being sick and tired and sorry for myself and weak and unfit and bored and depressed. I feel stale and old and useless, which is a bad way to feel.

So. I'm fixing my diet, going towards a Paleo diet (which is, incidentally, gluten and dairy free by default, hurrah). This means: fewer carbs, more protein, probably a lot of bulk meals stored in the freezer. I've stared this process by changing my weekly shop slightly, and soliciting some recipes that are simple to do in bulk and store well.

I'm fixing my exercise, or rather, initiating some. Tentatively, I'll start with something like this:
- 5min warmup on treadmill
- 10min of intervals on treadmill for distance
- One-arm dumbell rows, 3 sets of 10
- Air squats/travelling lunges
- Plank, hold for max time;
- Bicep curls (for grip strength);
- Tricep dips
- Stretching.
 In about an hour. I'll try and do that once this week, and twice next week, adding weights as I can.

I'm fixing my brain. I'm getting off the ground with my ardvino project from the software side, and listening to a backlog of podcasts. I'm reading books other than my comfortable reads, including nonfiction. This week, "Programming Language Pragmatics" by Michael L Scott. I'm writing blog posts.

I'm fixing my social life. I'm actually going out to my weekly meet (and staying sober), I'm reading my twitter feed, and I've reactivated some old accounts on various forums to try and get some engagement there.

I'd appreciate encouragement and support. I need it, I think.

Stasis and words to live by.

I've written about my diagnosis here and here. Lately, I've come to the realisation that I'm not going to adjust by myself to my current situation. At the moment, it's a pretty good day when I manage to eat and dress before midday - and it's a very rare day indeed where I have a sufficient creative impulse to cook, take a photograph, or even think about writing or knitting or coding.

I've been in stasis for some months now. I rarely leave the house, I rarely want to do anything at all, and whilst I'm beyond the only-able-to-stare blankly stage, it isn't by enough to live a life I'd consider satisfactory. That, combined with the coping with a new environment stuff has given me a mid-range depression. Well, I'm not suicidal or anything like that; there are many days where I want to just curl up and cry, and I'm anxious about every little thing, but, well, I've been worse.

Still, this isn't good. The anxiety, for instance, is giving me on-and-off insomnia, as well as putting me into spinlock. If I break the spinlock enough to quieten the anxiety, I start passing out because of the hypersomnia (and not taking my meds because adding a stimulant to insomnia is a bad idea). If I'm too tired and not doing anything, my anxiety starts ramping up, and then I stop being able to sleep. It's not healthy, and it's ruining my ability to make the most of my limited energy. I'm talking to the doc about it, but it's a bit of a waiting game.

I have two sets of words that I'm trying (and often failing) to live by: the Prayer for Serenity, and the Litany Against Fear.

God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change things I can, and Wisdom to know the difference.

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

The hardest thing is holding on to hope - the hope that I can find a specialist who can improve my quality of life, be it through mitigating my symptoms, or through helping me accept them.