Geekman's World: Idiot

Idiot. A big fucking idiot.

That's what I am. I've been having pains around my appendix area lately. I went to see a doctor last week and she confirmed that it wasn't a critical appendicitis. Possibly, she surmised, it might be a chronic condition where the appendix is on the brink of infection on and off. Nevertheless, she sent me for an ultrasound and blood tests just to be safe. Now, as if I didn't learn anything from my "pussbag" experience a few months ago, my brain immediately concocted the scenario that I had cancer, and was going to die. I spent days being completely neurotic, lost my appetite, lost my energy. I think I was starting to develop psychosomatic symptoms.

So I just got back from the ultrasound and blood tests. The ultrasound people found absolutely nothing. Nil. Nadda. So while a huge weight feels lifted off my shoulders, my intense anxiety has been replaced my an equally intense sense of self-loathing. Good God, you should have seen me spazing out when the ultrasound doctor left the room. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic. I sicken me.

The problem might be a good one though. Angela and I have found love, true love, with eachother. You think you know love with your first few long-term relationships, but then you find someone and everything is so wonderful and perfect that it brightens your entire life. So now, I'm deathly afraid of scarring her by dying and leaving her behind.

I have a problem. An anxiety problem. Years ago it was depression. Well, today I can't find good enough reason to be depressed about things, so now it's anxiety. I need help. Friends, family, please badger me until I get it.

... idiot...

If you can get help for imagined problems, you can get help for real ones.
So go and do it.

While it is always good to prepare yourself for the worst, more often than not it is a more simple diagnosis that is correct. I would say to look into other more simple explanations first, rather than jumping to the scariest conclusion you can. Does that make sense?
I can't be good for anyone if everytime something weird pops up you see it as impending doom.

Especially when it turns out to be something like a pussbag. A simple revolting pussbag ;)

As I responded to Jeff when we discussed this last night, if I was capable of doing the most sensible thing 100% of the time, basically I wouldn't have many problems at all.

From a purely practical point of view, jumping to the worst conclusion is the worst thing you could do, even if the worst turns out to be true. All you're doing is sapping your energy and making what you fear (illness) actually more likely to occur in a state of stress. Worry changes nothing, and is the biggest waste of time. Worry can actually be a self-fuffilling prophesy as you focus all your thoughts and energy on the negative... I do think it is something you should look into- "Mind over Mood" is a good book which deals with anxiety and depression, which often come hand in hand...