Thursday, May 17, 2012

Drunken Mouth Syndrome


Once in a while I have this little issue when it comes to speaking. It’s like every other word that wants to push past my lips comes out wrong. It either comes out backwards or jumbled in an incoherent mumble. I even have on occasion when I talk, find myself missing a word or two out of a sentence that I totally meant to say. Thankfully this problem doesn’t happen all the time, but it does seem to come and go in phases. Maybe I should someday look into it further on an actual medical side of things, but in the mean time I’ve simply diagnosed myself with having, drunken mouth syndrome.

Is this a real condition? Not as far as I know, but it’s what I’ve concluded for myself. It’s like the mouth gets drunk and forgets how to work. The rest of me is 100% perfectly sober and coherent when this happens. I don’t know really how else to describe my occasional lacking of verbal skills. The kicker though in my self-diagnoses is that I don’t even drink. Granted, I’ve enjoyed alcoholic beverages in the past – but it’s been so long now, that I can’t even remember the last time I drank anything with even a drop of something alcoholic in it! So of course, this clearly means my own diagnosis probably is quite far from inaccuracy. I mean, aside from the fact I made it up.

--XOXO, Jane

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Don’t Wannabe Diabetic


It’s time to crack the whip and get hard on myself. I need to pull myself from this semi-denial I have been basking in since my doctor’s appointment. I was told I’m pre-diabetic and while (like my diabetic father pointed out) some people would argue there is no such thing, I firmly believe there is. I know and understand a lot of people would pin point it down to, you either are or you aren’t, but couldn’t it be considered “pre-diabetic” if there are signs you could head that way if you don’t do something about it now? Maybe it’s inevitable. Maybe one of my worse medical fears will come true and someday I will be diagnosed with diabetes…but I would really like to take the initiative and prevent that as much as I possibly can.

The days following my physical I have told myself to continue what I’ve been doing. I eat in smaller portions then I used. I am actively taking charge of my life and getting over some personal obstacles to become the better-rounded accomplished person that I want to be. I tell myself every day I should get on the exercise bike I have pretty much unlimited free access to. I tell myself every single day to pop in one of those workout DVDs I own and work up a sweat. I tell myself each and every single day that I should maybe just go for a nice long walk. I sit here this morning and I force myself to come to terms that, telling myself to do something and actually doing something for myself are two very different things. I can tell myself to do something until I’m blue in the face, but if I don’t take the actual steps to do it what good does telling myself do me?

Perhaps the funny part of it is, is that I actually do enjoy working out, when I actually get around to it that is. I always feel this extra little burst of energy rush through me and I feel good about myself like I accomplished something. Sure, I’m out of shape and I might feel a sense of exhaustion over an actual physical workout, but over all I do always feel really good afterwards. Knowing this, I question myself. Why on earth aren’t I working out more? Why is it so much easier to put it off and do something else less productive physically? I can self-conscious about working out in front of others, I admit it. So it definitely makes a little sense to me why I don’t get on the exercise bike I have the access to. I do however have enough space in my bedroom to close the door to give myself privacy and work out in with a DVD. So why don’t I do it? Or better yet, why don’t I start going for that walk every day that I have wanted to start doing for what seems like ages now?

Maybe I’m just lazy? Maybe I really need to have a good hard honest look at that factor. Or maybe I need to go with my gut on this one and admit that I feel an odd sense of intimidation. I actually feel nervous about beginning to work out more productively again, and I’m not entirely sure why. It doesn’t help I have my left ankle that likes to act up on me and in the past few days or so, the back of my right calf has been having some odd pains throughout it. I feel these pains and find myself honestly going in two thought processes. On the one hand I’m a baby when it comes to pain, so naturally I want to put my legs up and relax. On the other hand I feel like maybe if I at the very least start walking regularly it could help these odd pains here and there. So I know it’s been said that the first step to getting into a routine is the hardest, but I have been getting this gaining feeling of determination to find that motivator to push myself to take those first steps.

Really it shouldn’t be so difficult and I can see that it shouldn’t. I blame my actual intimation I feel over working out, but I know I can’t hide behind it. I know one of the days, if I’m really serious about getting myself on a better track so I don’t fall victim to diabetes or other health issues for that matter, then I need to really stand up and take further steps down the path of healthier living.

--XOXO, Jane