Category: Chronicle

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Chronic Disease Chronicle

Day 129 and Worried About Wellness

Last week I felt like I was struggling to hold together level emotions and coherent thought. I had a lot of “feels” posts where I spent more time inspecting my interior world than I did analyzing exterior events.

When I feel energetic I can take in more information and engage in synthesis but when I’m feeling tired or otherwise am flaring from autoimmune condition I requires more mindfulness. This mindfulness lends itself to more of an inner focus. Often this brings me a sense of peace and emotional well being. Lately my case has been well controlled to the point of recovery, yet I haven’t felt as emotionally joyful about the development as I thought I would.

Then around Thursday or Friday of this week I found myself turning a bend. I was excited to think about very abstract ideas like the aesthetics of finance and how critical theory and how great works culture is colliding with Gen Z vibes.

I struggle with wanting to lean into enthusiasm though. Too many days in a row of exertion or excitement and I fear I’ll set myself back. That’s a kind of self limiting behavior that I hope I can let go. I want to feel confident in my energy but I do not want to turn myself back into workaholic habits either. This is a fear so persistent I’ve tagged eight posts in the last five months with the topic. So great is the fear that I felt some relief that I felt physically unwell today as I could blame my body instead of making the choice for myself if I wanted to be driven by energy and not recovery.

I can’t put off the mixed emotions on wellness and how I feel about working in the world. My capacity is nearly there. I’m taking on more and more. I have even plotted some of my next moves. But I’m feeling Augustine about the whole affair. Oh make well God but not quite yet!

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Chronicle

Day 124 and Taking a Pass

Most days I have at least some idea of a topic or an idea that grabs my attention. Even when I click open the WordPress app to write and don’t have something I want to explore I can generally find my way into something. Today I had a number of appointments for medical stuff that has just drained the life out of me. So I’m threading together sentences but a topic isn’t coming to me.

I mostly just want to sleep. My head hurts, my spine is throbbing, and I feel like the day just kicked my ass. But I swore everyday I would write something so here I am with nothing to say trying to fill a page.

It’s hard to know when a bad day will strike which is part of the challenge of a daily writing obligation. It’s somehow easier and harder all at once. It’s easier because with a daily exercise you know it will have some duds. But it’s also harder because you can’t just put it off. Still I think I’d rather know some days will have poor content. That’s easier than only ever publishing writing I’m proud to have made public. I’ll take the “pass” grade and move on. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll have something great.

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Chronicle Internet Culture

Day 123 and Being Liked

I asked if folks cared if other people liked them today on Twitter. The results are surprisingly mixed on the issue.

A Twitter poll asking if folks care if others like them with 4 options: yes, no, yes but I like about it and no but I lie about it.

The four options were Yes, No, Yes But I Lie About It and No But I Lie About It. It is fascinating to see the breakdown in responses even a few hours into the poll. I don’t know what I thought the response would be but I don’t think it was an even split.

Now, of course, I didn’t ask if being likeable is good, or bad, or even helpful. I just asked if people cared. It’s likely people who do care don’t think it’s good that they care. And there are people who don’t care that maybe which wish did as caring about being liked may have benefits. I don’t actually believe that a third of folks don’t care as frankly society would look pretty different if 35% of us just didn’t care about perception. And sure you can argue that you don’t care but you hide the fact, but then your answer would have been the least popular option “no and I lie about it” which is lagging in the results. My guess is that a number of folks are aspirational “no” votes which I can respect. I’m confident I would have voted no in my twenties. I used to be an aspirational no vote

Currently my vote would be “Yes But I Lie About It” but I’m not sure if I’m lying to myself or others with that answer. I don’t generally care what people think of me but I think I lie to myself about needing to care. I think being liked is important and I want to act like I care more. I’ve got some hang ups about not having been a more palatable person when I was younger. Maybe if I had been nicer or better behaved or well…just more likable I’d be richer, more loved, have a better relationship with my family and other fantasies. I’m also not convinced that changing myself for others has the benefits I think. That’s just some 4 year old inner child trauma emotions. How others feel about me has little to do with me and a lot to do with them. That’s true for how I feel about others. My reaction to you says a lot about my emotions, trauma and hang ups than it does about if you are likable.

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Aesthetics Chronic Disease Chronicle

Day 122 and Soul Delay

There is a line in William Gibson’s Pattern Recognition that has stuck with me for years. The context isn’t all that crucial except to know the hero has just taken a long flight.

She knows, now, absolutely, hearing the white noise that is London, that Damien’s theory of jet lag is correct: that her mortal soul is leagues behind her, being reeled in on some ghostly umbilical down the vanished wake of the plane that brought her here, hundreds of thousands of feet above the Atlantic. Souls can’t move that quickly, and are left behind, and must be awaited, upon arrival, like lost luggage.

Sadly I am not jet lagged, as that would imply international travel which is a context I doubt I’ll have for at least a few more months. But I’m finding soul delay can happen even without jet lag. The separation between one’s body and one’s soul is a rich emotional issue. For the past week or two I feel like I’ve been reeling from a gap between my soul and my body. It came on suddenly, despite all the disparate causes been easy to see coming and not remotely surprising.

The dawning realization that I may not be stuck forever with a chronic illness hasn’t been the unmitigated joy I anticipated. In fact, it’s been fairly miserable realizing that the convenient excuse to keep me from workaholism won’t be an available crutch forever. I’m assessing all the things I take for granted in my life and their myriad benefits and it’s not pretty. It turns out even the most joyful possible goal attainments come with a host of introspection.

And that generally means you can’t lie to yourself. It actually feels a little bit like attaining wealth overnight. All those excuses you used to have about how you’d just pursue the life of your dreams if not for financial limitations? Some of them turn out to be lies you’ve been telling yourself for years. And then how do you feel? It turns out much of your circumstances were self imposed.

Which isn’t to say that I’m finding out I need to make drastic life changes and that I’ve been living a lie. That would actually be easy! It’s more that the sum of dozens of self limiting beliefs need to be assessed, turned over for utility, and discarded or repurposed. Why was I a founder? Why am I married? Why do I pursue attention? All of these are little bits of honesty that are giving me soul delay. Because finding out what I actually want, without the benefit of a circumstance preventing me from achieving my desires, is going to require reconciliation between my soul and my reality.

So right now I feel a kind of emotional jet lag. After intensive work and a significant amount of willpower I am getting what I wanted. I’m getting my health back. But I’m still reeling in my soul from the journey. The cortisol spiked adrenaline of the effort is wearing off. I need to recover from my recovery. My soul needs to reel itself in. But I don’t know when it’s arriving at baggage claim. And I’m so very tired from the effort. So even if I have arrived it doesn’t feel like I thought it would. I hope I can be patient with myself while I wait. It’s been two years so I figure what is another few months?

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Biohacking Chronic Disease Chronicle

Day 120 and Naps

I’ve always been prone to energy dips in the afternoon. I wake up immediately ready for the day but after lunch and another of work or activity and I’m heading off an energy cliff. If I allow myself a burst of sleep I’ll be back and feeling as energetic as I was in the morning right as my body insists on an energy dip as it is dinner time. Two hours later and it’s basically bedtime just as my second energy burst is coming on. Not great timing if I’m honest.

I used to force myself through afternoon lulls with caffeine or attempting to slot in a workout to push for energy. Neither really worked well for my rhythm or energy. Once I went on medical sabbatical I was able to test out the afternoon nap. The Mayo Clinic agrees it has proven benefits for cortisol levels and stress. WebMD has a long roundup of benefits like lowered blood pressure. The only thing you have to look out for is if you are an insomniac then late afternoon naps might push your bedtime back.

This is a concern for me as I regularly get too worked up to fall asleep easily. I practice all the sleep hygiene best-of hits like blue light blocking, dark cool rooms aand magnesium and still I find myself longing to find my phone and doomscroll Twitter. My biohacking efforts on the most restful night of sleep are easily derailed by the need to dunk tweet or reply guy.

I long to find the ideal balance of nighttime rest and day time napping to make my ideal circadian rhythm shine. I wonder if I should be one of those types that breaks their sleep pattern into two blocks. Biophasic or segmented sleep always seemed like a cool hack for maximizing energy. I just don’t know if it would accidentally break me.

As much as I want to go on some sort of sleep optimizing spree my gut tells me I just need the sleep that I need. I probably need the eight hours at night along with an hour during the day. It’s just fine that I sleep more. It’s literally the best thing anyone can do for their health.

The tricky workaholic part of my brain fantasizes about having an even block of productive work that shifts my bedtime so I have a six hour evening block to match my six hour morning block. I get indignant that after my nap in the afternoon instead of rising into a second workday my energy is consumed with practicality like dinner and sleep hygiene routines. I should not push my body for my workaholic fantasies but the bio hacker in me really wants to try.

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Chronic Disease Chronicle Internet Culture

Day 118 and Games

I wasn’t a gamer as a kid but as an adult I’ve come to love gaming. The joy of accomplishments, the camaraderie of guild members, and the fantasy of the worlds are powerful magic. I’ve met dear friends that I love every much as anyone IRL.

Gaming has significant social benefits apparently. Which anyone who spends a lot of time in Discords and guild chats can vouch for. My gaming friends are some of my closest friends. I know more about their lives than I sometimes do about coworkers or casual acquaintances.

In findings published in 2017, the team found that MMO engagement correlated to a stronger sense of social identity, or how people self-identify based on their affiliation to groups. That social identity then corresponded with higher self-esteem and more social competence and lower levels of loneliness, the researchers found.

But it doesn’t have to be immersive or social to be worth my time. I like ditzy mobile games too. Silly games that don’t take up too much cognitive overhead can be the most relaxing. It’s fun to move around cartoon bubbles or dress up a Kardashian. And sure enough that has benefits too. Improved problem solving skills, improved cognition and and eases pain. Guess that might be why I like it.

“It’s common to try to distract ourselves from pain by paying attention to something else or focusing on other body mechanisms, but that’s not the only reason why games are a good post-injury prescription. Playing can actually produce an analgesic (pain-killing) response in our higher cortical systems. The more immersive, the better—which is why pending virtual reality systems may one day be as prevalent in hospitals as hand sanitizer.” Mental Floss

The truth is even with all the benefits I think play is important. Time to do nothing but engage in childlike enjoyment makes life better. I just want to do something fun and relaxing and and not worry about anything while I do it.

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Chronic Disease Chronicle

Day 117 and Drained

I feel like my mind hasn’t caught up to my body this week. Usually it’s my body that isn’t caught up to my mind. But I’ve been fighting so hard to get physically healthy that I don’t think I fully considered what it would mean to achieve it.

I’m exhausted as the reality of a change is hitting me all at once. I’ve been having a roller coaster of emotions trying to figure out how I feel. Some of it is a resistance to change. But I think some of it is simply that even positive changes require emotional adjustments. Adjusting to a new self requires a lot of energy.

A part of me feels like I’m fighting some boss that if I can just defeat will let me get to the next level in the game of my life. And I’ve used up all lives trying to get through it. I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out how to make it happen but I’ve been at it for so long I can barely see straight. But who wants to take a break when you are so close to leveling up?

I really don’t have it in me to say much more today. But I’m pretty sure I’ll have more once I can just get through it.

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Aesthetics Chronicle

Day 116 and Taking Up Space

I take up a lot of space. I spend time on social media because there is so much space you can literally be the President or a celebrity billionaire industrialist and there are still corners of the web you don’t penetrate. There is a lot of room for loudmouths, so much so that even someone like me still has plenty of room. I barely rate on the Elon Musk attention scale. Even when I’m screaming at best I crack into D-list zeitgeist. It’s like the privacy that comes with living in New York City. You can have some notoriety but the web doesn’t care. I like how you can feel alone.

The irony of course is that I think no one is paying attention to me. I think I’m an average Joe nobody that no one ever notices. This despite the fact that I am paid to be an expert in getting attention. No literally I cost a fortune (I’m worth every penny) but I’m somehow convinced I’m invisible personally. I can feel lost in a lonely world where I’m not even sure the people that love me the most can see me. I’m stuck in some lonely portion of my childhood where I felt abandoned so I’m replaying it out now as an adult. It’s not great but I get something from it.

Except this is a fantasy that is not true. I’m not that child anymore and I know how to get attention. I’m not alone. Even when I’m not consciously drawing energy to myself, people do see me. I can simply be myself and be seen. I command attention. It’s who I am.

You always think as a kid you will get some cool superpower like laser eyes or flying but nope you are going to get a super power like public relations or brand marketing. And honestly, when I’m not a self pitying victim I know those to be awesome super powers. You can make money and direct business and politics with those super powers. I just though I’d get something a little more aesthetic you know? It’s dope but also like adult superpowers are a letdown for your inner child.

I just need to remind adult me that I am seen. That even my normal personality not exerting her will force onto the universe is actually still quite visible. I can just exist and I’ll be holding space for myself. And it’s a good space with plenty of room for all of me. And still intimate enough to feel the love around me.

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Chronic Disease Chronicle

Day 115 and Physical Rehabilitation

As part of my commitment to quantified self and biohacking I have a physical rehabilitation protocol I cobbled together. Two years ago at the start of my autoimmune my journey I couldn’t walk easily. The ankylosing spondylitis manifested in my upper spine meaning I would struggle to get from my bed to the bathroom. I had to shower using a stool. I walked with a cane. This was not great for my cardiovascular health or my muscle tone. I was in this state for well over a year.

As the inflammation has become controlled in the past six months, I’ve been faced with a long rehabilitation. How do you build back stamina when even minor exertion was beyond one’s capabilities? As it turns out you do it one step at a time.

I’ve kept it simple. I get up out of bed every hour and take 250 steps. You’d be surprised how much a commitment to small consistent movements builds on itself. Once I got used to regular “get up” movements and pacing the room, I focused on adding small increments. Add in a hundred more steps at a time and now I’m comfortable hiking for an hour a day on flat or slight inclines. Thanks to a totally inconsistent stretching routines (a mix of Pilates and Alexander Technique) my muscles have retained mobility so that adding in more mileage has always felt comfortable.

I don’t have a program that is specific to rehabilitation though I suspect I should. I just committed to adding 5% a week more steps till I was able to walk 3 miles at a time or about 7,000 a day steps with a small amount of activity every hour. I suspect the regular activity each hour helps more than the steady state work but both add up to fitness gains. I have been adding in weight lifting and found that my strength is reasonably good. The real issue is that if I go to my full strength capacity I find myself struggling afterwards as healing and natural inflammatory processes are still a challenge for me. It’s as if the actual fitness isn’t the issue but rather my capacity for recovery.

Today I was able to successfully hike the NCAR trailhead in South Boulder. It’s a moderate intensity hike with some scramble and a gain of about 750 feet over a 3 mile circuit. What surprised me the most was that I didn’t have any perceptual issues with fitness. The exertion felt fine. The challenge was the occasional spike of pain. I wasn’t entirely sure if discomfort was a function of not being capable of managing the trail or simply that I’m still prone to system cascades. I can’t explain it any better than that. The trail was muddy and I lost my footing sending me into a fight or flight cycle that I needed to let pass.

Now that I’ve reached a point where normal activity is possible I need to find the next step in my cumulative rehabilitation program. The area where I can add 5% gains each week. If anyone has suggestions I’m open to it!

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Chronic Disease Chronicle Startups

Day 114 and Resistance to Change

Crash landing my life into a medical sabbatical really fucked up my headspace. Around two years ago I was beginning to realize I didn’t have a choice in accepting that I was sick. My identity as an always on, gets things done, reliable, entrepreneur got replaced by an entirely new self conception as “ill person” in a matter of six months. In August of 2019 I disclosed that I was officially sick. I sold my company and was going on leave.

It wasn’t a pretty adjustment. And I’m probably lying to myself when I say it took months to accept. I hated the new me. I felt weak and out of control. Willpower and muscling through did very little to help an autoimmune disease. If anything that mentality of “working on the problem” made it worse as I needed to rest and let my doctors do the work. I was resistant to change.

I think I’m going through a similar transition now as I did in 2019. I began seeing a new doctor in Colorado in October of 2020 and I made more progress in six months than I did in the previous two years. I’m beginning to face a new identity change as it becomes clear that I won’t be “sick” forever. While autoimmune diseases aren’t like an infection, there is no “cured,” it is beginning to look like I will be healthy enough to live normally. You won’t be able to tell I’ve got anything wrong with me soon.

And I have to admit to myself it’s a mindfuck. The emotional and psychological work I had to do to accept losing my entire identity is happening all over again. Who the hell am I if I’m not sick?

You see for the past two years I got used to explaining to people I was a sick person. I was disabled. I needed accommodations. I couldn’t work in ways I felt I would be reliable. I came accept my identity as someone with physical limits. And I slowly figured out ways to communicate that new reality others who has previously seen me as this abled person.

I guess you could say I was at peace with my situation. The pandemic helped. I know it probably sucked for you but I really enjoyed having a year of my recovery coincide with others having to live the way I did. I know it’s selfish but it helped! I felt less alone.

And yet just as I’m finally feeling like I really got a handle on my new identity it’s not my reality anymore. I’m not going to be a sick person. And while I thought I’d be overjoyed it turns out it’s a little more complex emotionally.

Let’s try a comparison. Imagine you broke your arm. You keep it in a brace and you can’t use it while it’s healing. And then the cast comes off and you are unsure if you can go back to using your arm like you did. You used to move your arm without thinking. You don’t worry about applying pressuring or picking things up before the break. But after it’s scary. You don’t want to set yourself back. You are scared to lift things and scared to apply pressure. I am in that place with myself. I know that the break is healing. The cast is off. But the muscles are atrophied and I’m not sure I trust that everything is knit back together. But the reality is that soon I’ll have the all clear.

But who I am now? I’m not the entrepreneur I once was. That workaholic Julie won’t be coming back. But the disabled sick Julie won’t be with me forever either. And I’m a little scared about it what’s coming. Who am I going to be next?