Perhaps all of the old literature and platitudes are correct. Perhaps you do b begin to appreciate life more once you recognize that it is not everlasting. Yesterday I was (self)diagnosed with hypertension. I clocked in at 150/114, which is at the top of stage 1 hypertension and dangerous to my body overall. I have not seen a doctor in well over a decade. I stopped going when she stopped practicing in order to have a baby. I don’t live in an environment where adults are regularly encouraged to seek medical help. However, at word of this my partner demanded I get seen. I will–I’ve put in for the appointment. In the meanwhile I am facing the reality that reality could end a great deal sooner than expected.
The mind is a powerful tool. That tool can be used to negative purpose as I have discovered since yesterday, making the problem worse by focusing so much on it. I spent the bulk of the day going through the stages of ‘medical grief.’ I started with denial. While at the dentist I was told my blood pressure was too high for a specific type of anesthetic. I freaked. After the procedure I went to two different stores to take their free blood pressure tests. Some were worse than others, but the number above is the number I am going with. I denied until I could no longer deny. Numbers don’t lie. That led to a self reflective period during which I charted my habits post college and decided that all of this was indeed my fault. I have not taken good care of myself or my life since…. ever I suppose. I quickly accepted the responsibility and moved towards the bargaining phase. I wasn’t bargaining with God, but with my own body. I told myself I would be better. I promised myself cheat days, and by doing so silently acquiesced to needing a new lifestyle. Less stress. Less alcohol. More sleep. More exercise.
I fell into a state of depression and disappointment. I felt bad about the changes I needed to make and the choices I’d made and the situation I’d gotten myself into. I felt like I let everyone in my life down–most of all a partner whose life was turned upside down and inside out as a result of knowing me and, eventually, loving me. I felt sorry for her and guilty and depressed for myself. I got angry again–a microcosm of the stages balled into a 20 minute shower where I let the scalding water roll down my back, stripping away everything that led to that moment.
Then I remembered that I wasn’t dead. Not yet. I am not through the stages. I have no plan. I do have that moment of light between the clouds. I do have something to heal for. I have someone to live for. I have things left to do.