Not for the faint of art. |
I've been feeling frustrated lately. No, not because of that. Or even because of that. I don't even know why. Emotion is like a foreign country to me: some things are familiar, but I don't speak the language, I don't fully grok the customs, and I feel like anything I do could be misinterpreted. What I don't understand, specifically, is that this isn't the first time I've worked on improving my overall health through a combination of diet and exercise - but past attempts have left me feeling better, not worse. Usually, I take some pleasure and derive satisfaction from working toward a goal of that sort, and seeing real progress. Not as much as I get from instant gratification, of course, but some. This time, though, I have been seeing real progress, and apart from a bit of overindulgence on Monday (something I had planned for), I've been pretty good about sticking to the basics: eat right and exercise. And yet, instead of feeling good about things, I've become short-tempered and sensitive to the slightest things going wrong. So yeah, like I said, I don't understand it at all. Clearly, I am missing something. That happens sometimes; what's obvious to other people is often obscured to me. It's possible that taking a break from my hedonistic lifestyle has caused some cognitive dissonance; I know I resent the idea that in order to have a chance to live longer, I have to chill out on a lot of the things that make life worth living. That could have something to do with it, and yet I haven't gotten to the point where I'm ready to give it up and go back to pizza and beer. I'll get to that point, eventually, but not today. Only thing I can think of to do is to channel my rage into extra effort toward my goal, but that doesn't address the problem: where is this abominable emotion coming from? I suppose I could see a shrink, but that hasn't been all that useful for me in the past. I figured maybe by writing about it, I'd gain some insight. But now I've done that, and I haven't gotten any ideas. |