I was attempting to drive home from Gallatin, doing interstate speeds, when all of a sudden, I was hit by a wave of dizziness. And then, a few minutes later, another, and then, as I was searching desperately for an exit so that I could get off the road before I passed out, another.
I never did pass out. But I had the slowest drive home, ever. Then I ate and it seemed to improve, though I still had these intermittent moments where it felt like things were going to start spinning, but they didn’t.
I had chalked it up to low blood sugar because of the massive improvement once I ate.
But then, this morning, I’ve had a couple of bouts where my ear–inside my ear–feels really hot all of a sudden, and then I feel like I can’t quite tell what way is up. It doesn’t last long enough to develop into me being actually dizzy. But it’s enough to make me wonder if I’ve got some kind of inner ear infection. And yet, this is so much better than yesterday, that I’m going to give it a day and see if it doesn’t clear up completely.
The thing I want to talk about, though, is that I don’t really feel like I have a fucked up relationship to food. And yet, a year ago, when the doctor told me my Vitamin D levels were low, I didn’t really take it seriously because how could a person like me not be getting “enough” of anything? Oh, ha ha ha ha. And then a year later, I have dangerously low levels of Vitamin D. And then, yesterday, even though it was dinner time and I’d been basically snacking my way through the day, I didn’t eat because I wasn’t hungry and it’s not like I need to eat or anything, right? Ha ha ha. Again.
I think I nourish myself poorly, though not always intentionally, because it’s hard for me to believe that this body, which is so much, could lack things–could be malnourished.
And then I had the unfortunate opportunity to hear all about my Aunt and Uncle’s new diet, because I called to try to confirm a legend that my Grandpa’s uncle ran booze during Prohibition, which involves them going gluten-free and drinking at least 100 oz. of whatever liquids they like (as long as they’re gluten free) a day. So, three liters of Coke? Perfectly fine. Hell, I guess three liters of potato vodka is technically allowed, if you can drink it without dying. So, it’s like gluten-free but with a fad-diet twist.
Which I should go on immediately, because I’m fat, like my uncle.
They’ve been on their three-liter diet for a week.
But even aside from that, a thing that completely bums me out about PCOS is that I thought that it would buy me some “Something’s wrong with Betsy. We never talk about what’s wrong in our family, so let’s never talk about her” space. But no!
So, bleh. I don’t have anything more profound than that to say. Just that it stood out to me that, in a 24 hour period where I seem to have completely fucked up my blood sugar to the point of giving myself waves of dizziness by not eating enough, it’s still very important for me to hear about how much I should diet.
He literally said to me, “Being fat is fun until it isn’t.”
What the fuck? When does the fun start? Am I being cheated out of the fat-induced fun? I kind of feel like it. I have fun, don’t get me wrong. I’m just not seeing how being fat has brought that about.