Friday, March 5, 2010

How To Get Depressed With NAFLD

My liver has sort of given up on digesting what I put into my body. It wants a very exclusionary diet and lots of help digestion-wise.

‘Give me enzymes! Give me Ox bile! Don’t eat that, or you’ll be sorrr-eeee!'

So I tip-toe around herbs and most spices.

Watching chefs makes me paranoid. Maybe I could have tea in their restaurants and not suffer too much from their creativity.

But back to the depression thing. When I hadn’t mis-munched, I was steaming on along clearing postal clutter, and personal clutter from chairs and couch and thinking how much better it would look when I finished.

All of a sudden I didn’t want to finish. What’s the point of starting if you don’t want to finish?

So I kicked that idea around and suddenly I clued in that I really wanted to get the place tidied up and my stuff dispersed so my daughter would not have to deal with it, if I became incapacitated or died. With my physical balance that would be possible at any moment.
I thought, “Now there’s a winning idea, clean up so you can be crippled or die without a bunch of stuff cluttering up the place.”

Who wants to clean up, if that’s the next thing on the agenda?
.
It’s a good thing I have an active internal Observer to come to my rescue and jolt me back to where a positive chemical cascade is whizzing around my body.

I remember a woman complaining that her husband simply would not install the trim in the house. The trim had been piled there for more than a year. It was not really the ‘in’ thing for living room ART piled up there against the wall and sticking out at both ends of the chesterfield. So I asked the guy how come everything had ground to a halt at that stage.

He told us that she’d made a joke about divorcing him when the house was finished. I could see how that would stop anyone from applying the trim. That bit of info really jolted his wife when she heard him say it.

Having heard the trim story, I wondered how I’d boxed myself in with the tidying and re-homing deal I was doing before the depression and the balking stage hit.

Thinking one’s self into a box has never helped anyone’s liver or health.

Be careful what you eat.
Be careful what you think.
Be very careful what you say…even to yourself.