If I had to describe my body in one word, that word would be "sucks." I'm not overweight, but my body is severely untoned. In an attempt to improve my appearance, I started doing aerobic exercise last week for the first time in three years...and I broke out in hives. I have allergies, asthma, and chronic lower back pain. My favorite thing to order when I go to a restaurant is shrimp, which would be awesome if not for the fact that I'm allergic to shellfish. I even found out recently that I'm mildly lactose intolerant, but at least that one is manageable (so I've got that going for me). None of these however, are as bad as my current problem:
I'm so constipated right now my balls hurt.
If you think I'm full of shit, you're right, but probably for the wrong reason. But before I get to that I have to give you some background information on my lifestyle:
I sit on my ass all day long, seven days a week.
Now that that's out of the way, I can get on to the root of my problem: Anxiety.
When I first went off to college I really didn't give a damn about anything. Especially things like "studying," "going to class," or anything that had to do with "school." Then, after I accumulated an outstanding 1.5 GPA my first and only semester at LSU, I didn't want to go to school anymore. This is when I was introduced (read: prescribed) to the magical pill known as Adderall.
Long story short, I've taken Adderall every day for almost the past two years. At first, it was awesome. I became the Sammy Sosa of community college students: I went back to school, focused in class, brought my GPA up, and decided I wanted to be a writer. However, there were three things that it also did to me that I'm now just starting to feel the affects of -- increased anxiety, not wanting to do anything without swallowing my orange friend, and a reliance on it to go #2.
When all you do is sit in a room by yourself all day on amphetamines, that's not going to be good for your body or your mind, and sure enough it finally led me to the point where I had a panic attack.
A couple of weeks ago I was stuffing my face with Chick-fil-A at 10:30 PM when I finally realized I won't be able to sell the Superman script I wrote (even though in the back of my head I knew it all along, I'm just really good at talking myself into things).
I immediately started having chest pains. Bad timing? Indigestion? Probably, but I didn't suspect it because I was too busy freaking out. All I knew was I had chest pains and immediately thought I was having a heart attack and my mind pretty much took care of the rest. The equation to my panic attack is as follows:
Anxiety + Indigestion + Negative Thoughts = Panic Attack
Thankfully, after a couple of trips to a cardiologist, I was assured that my heart is perfectly fine. I was told I'd had a panic attack and it was recommended to me that I should try reducing the amount of stress in my life. I wondered exactly how I was going to do that.
It didn't take long for me to say to myself, "How about you stop taking the pill with side effects that include an increased heartbeat and possible nervousness or anxiety?" Yup, that sounded like a great idea. The only problem was I stopped taking it cold turkey, and when you abruptly stop taking something that your body depends on to take a dump in the morning, you're going to have some issues.
This brings me to my current situation.
After not taking Adderall for a few days I developed some pain on the right side of my lower abdomen that, as of yesterday, shifted sides and started to radiate down to my left testicle. I don't care who you are, if you have balls, that's the one place you don't want to feel pain. So fearing the worst I went to the doctor, but ended up only needing an over-the-counter laxative. You're probably wondering, "Testicle pain? Laxatives? Huh?" I did too, but apparently I'm a little "backed up" on the small intestinal front. Hopefully this works because as I continue to type, my ball(s) continue to hurt.
So why did this happen to me? It's simple really -- my body is an asshole. Or maybe I'm the asshole...I'm not really sure who's at fault here. Actually I do, but if I admit it, then it'll look like I'm the asshole...
I've concluded that the human body was not meant to sit in a chair and lounge around on the computer (or in front of the TV) all day, every day, for years at a time. I finally understand my body's point of view:
"Eat right, do exercise, or I will get back at you."
I found out that when my body treats me the way I treat it, I don't like it very much at all. So this post is dedicated to my body, whom I hope will forgive me for any wrongdoing and make the pain in my little Boves go away.