It's All Upstairs

Obsess:  To be preoccupied with a single topic or emotion; to dominate the thoughts of someone.

The sinus problem is in the rear view mirror - aided and abetted by five days of antibiotics which knocked that sucker down right quick.  I'm proud that I waited for five weeks before deciding my body was not going to defeat the infection any time soon.

The back problems are at a dull roar.

Now I have the knee tweak, an injury that occurred when I bent over to pick up an orange.  For chrissake.  It's not like I was straining to boot a fifty yard field goal in my pick-up touch football league.

I wonder - once more and forevermore - about all of the exercising.  I clearly don't need to work out as much as I do.  I'm still afraid of free time.

Hypochondria:  A psychological disorder characterized by excessive preoccupation or worry about having a serious illness.

So much writing and I still don't feel like I've gotten to the bottom of the health obsession.  I can indeed blame mom but shouldn't that be getting stale?

I know I'm jumping with excess energy which it feels good to release.

I also know that I consume caffeine and sugar at levels that fuel the jumpiness.

I haven't exercised for three days and it feels like forever.  It seems like most of my exercise injuries are due to overuse.  I'm having trouble imagining what my life would be like without the time spent exercising.  I wonder if it would be better?  I've had this list of things I'd like to do that I've had a hard time cracking.  Maybe with a bunch of time I'd be able to dip into these activities more than I do.

That's sorta sad.

Maybe I'm supposed to get a feel for what life is like without exercise as a main pivot in my day.  I sure got a ton of good, productive, quality writing done the last couple of days.

I release my anxiety into the universe.  I give my anxiety to my higher power.  It isn't the anxiety - it's my anxiety.  It isn't trying to hurt me or kill me - it just has a message that it wants me to hear.  It's all inside your head, dude.  That's where everything is.  You are just electrical impulses in a big meat sack.

I give my body and my health over to my higher power.  I'm grateful that in the big picture I'm a remarkably healthy man: no disease or injuries, longevity in my family highlighted by a lack of cancers of any kind, maintaining a healthy diet with good sleep and exercise habits, all contributing to this good health.

Where does this obsessive shit come from?  My dad was not a particularly healthy guy but I never heard him complain once - ever - about his health.  Ditto for my grandparents, all four of them.  Never a peep, never a bitch, never a sigh, can't remember any of them ever taking a nap.  I've done more complaining than the five of them put together.

Then there's mom.  I learned at the feet of the master.