the struggle

A few months ago I wrote about my diagnosis and taking ownership of life. At that moment in time, it was words on a screen, and it remained that way for a while.

I haven't always been completely honest about this process. I'll say I'm fine, everything's cool, no problems, but mentally, I'm a mess. I have always been a do-it-yourself kind of guy, and I hate having to reach out for help or admitting I'm in over my head. And most of the time, I've been able to pull myself out of whatever mess I fall into. But occasionally, life gets bigger than myself and I really don't have a choice.

For the past ten months, I've lived pretty much in seclusion. I'd wake up, go to work, come home, lock myself in my room for three hours and go to sleep, and repeat the whole routine again the next day, only deviating on rare occasions. And for a time, it was what I needed -- time to be still, peaceful, and to reflect. I was still able to put on the face of 'nothing's wrong' at work and in general. As the months trudged on, though, it became less reflective and more hiding away.

My roommate, God love him, has been noticing this and has recently been making a point to needle me about it whenever I'm out and about with him. I was chastised several times around my friends while we were in NYC about it. He's worried about me, and my friends took the hint and started needling me about it too.

I started smoking again. In the absence of harder drugs or alcoholism or anything else, it kept me calm and helped maintain that mask and gave me something else to escape into, as stupid as that sounds.

For some reason today, I woke up and decided it was time to do something about it. My GP (who I used to hate, but I'm coming to appreciate more and more) took me in on a walk-in. We talked about a couple of things; he took some bloodwork, gave me a flu shot, and wrote out a prescription for Chantix, a smoking cessation aid. My cholesterol came back right away, and apparently I'm in terrific condition on that front. "You'll live 'til you're 100 if you keep this up," he told me. My HDL is a little low for his liking and suggested I start taking niacin to get that back up.

I got on the phone with my insurance company to see if Chantix was covered, and to inquire about mental health benefits. I've decided it's time to start working from a clean slate, and to do that I have to get around this roadblock in my head I'm stuck behind. She sent me a list of providers and broke the bad news that Chantix wasn't covered. That's OK. It's worth the extra expense in the long run. I got the prescription filled.

There's a lot of money pouring out of me for this stuff -- after my apicoectomy a few months ago I've been on a pretty tough regimen of dental care, too -- but with my birthday a scant two months away, I think it's worth it. On the slide to 30, I realize I need to start taking these steps now so I won't have to deal with something much worse in a few years.

I can't really say where all this is heading, since I don't really know yet. After mostly surviving NYC for nearly ten years, though, I have to say I'm thrown that I let Atlanta get the better of me sometimes. If the mortgage crisis has taught us anything, though, it's that ownership is best taken in small steps. Don't try to grab on to something bigger than you can handle, or you'll wind up on your ass. It's a tortured metaphor, I know, but I think it applies.