April 18th to 21st Wet, weight, waiting in 2016

Everything is wet. Everything is soaking wet. It’s raining, it’s humid, I never dried from the shower, and I just did part of my indoor walk. I’m literally dripping. Welcome to spring in East Asia.
The 18th went about as expected. Monday was dull, though I did get some stuff done. The big event was getting back on the weight loss wagon. I got my walking in and I got my stairs in and I did a Fitness Blender. I’m trying to listen to lectures on YouTube again. I also moved my computer back upstairs so that it’s inconvenient to use. That way I don’t spend nearly as much time dicking around on YouTube or doing generally nothing.
Tuesday the 19th I went to Eshin. I had six classes, all 3rd and 4th graders. That was . . . intense. I went way over on everything (except stairs climbed) and left it at that. I hadn’t been terribly sore from Monday’s work, but I was a bit tender, and I figured that with how sore I was at the end of the day, forcing myself up another twenty flights of stairs was a bad idea.
The third and fourth graders are a bit hard to judge as of yet. I only had the one class, and it was mostly self-introductions. I had my favorite non-Okadome teacher (I always forget her name) and there’s another cute 3rd grade teacher. Doubtful anything’ll happen there. Recess was pretty fun. I’m working on getting the kids to stop trying to kancho me. It’s rather mixed. I’m becoming well known as a favorite children’s plaything. I was a mountain and a horse (for climbing and riding respectively) and a host of other various needed implements in the various games on the playground. It was astonishingly fun. Man, I hope that schools someday ban electronics and encourage rough play as much as Japan does. I spun a kid, and he cried a bit, so we did an execution and he cut off my head. Then he got on my back and rode me like a horse, laughing. I was shocked, at first, when I saw how uncaring many Japanese were when kids cried. Now, I’m really realizing: Kids cry. It’s life. Don’t indulge it. Just keep going and they’ll be fine. So, he got a spin, a cry, and got to decapitate his teacher, transmogrify him into a horse, and ride him around. Not a bad deal.
Tuesday night doesn’t really stand out. I took a bath, I believe. That was the highlight, and I don’t particularly like baths anymore (which is incredibly sad). I’d been good and practiced my guitar on Monday for quite a bit, but I could barely use my arms by the time Tuesday night rolled around.
Wednesday the 20th I got up and went to Miyachu. Nothing of note to report. I was supposed to have Inori Sensei, but she had no classes. Thankfully, Tateishi requested me for three periods, which gave the day some vague purpose. Beyond that, I read a lot of Oxford Classical Dictionary, and I did remarkably little. After school, I had Eikaiwa which was . . . about as fun as normal. I was way too sore to even do the tiny guitar I’d done on Tuesday, so I gave up. Instead, I listened to some lecturing, and started reading The Aeneid. I didn’t get to bed very early, though, somehow. I still can’t think of how or why. Probably skype? No clue.
This morning, I came to Miyachu and I’ve got Tateishi again. However, there’s only one class. I’m thinking about asking Minami Sensei, the band teacher, to let me use one of the Miyachu guitars during a time when there are no kids in the classroom beneath. It’d break up the time a bit more. Beyond that, walking, and more Aeneid.
I’m waiting, and it’s difficult. I’m waiting to be different. More accurately, I’m waiting to change. I’m getting really tired of the kids poking my stomach. At the same time, I shouldn’t let it bother me. I am fat. And I’m fat as a result of my own choices and decisions. Yes, I’ve got a bit more of a medical explanation than most for how I got this huge, but, even that doesn’t justify still being like this. I want to push myself. I want to push myself harder, especially on days like today where I could exercise for thousands of extra calories and then gorge myself for dinner. Or I could exercise for thousands of extra calories and leave myself a crazy deficit and feel great about myself. But that’s what broke my last streak. I tried to go too hard and too fast, and, as much as I hate it, I’ve got to slow myself down. Even now, I’m thinking, “I could at least add <various mental="" exercises="" and="" pursuits=""> to the mix for days when my body hurts.” And, I’ve got a point. But that’s also adding to the overall stress level and decreasing my willpower. Yeah, I want to do a lot of things, and I should study a lot of things, and the list of the things I want to do/should do/need to do is overwhelming, but I’ve got to suck it up and to endure that list because if I try to tackle everything, I’m just going to collapse into a sniveling shell of a man (like usual).
This pressure, though, all of these things are really getting to me. I have so many areas where I’m behind, so many things that I need to do, so much. I have had that chocked, chained, feeling. I sometimes just have these muscle spasms, like I’m trying to break out of something, when this feeling of pressure overwhelms. Like when your whole body jumps the instant before sleep. But I’ve got to actually stay focused on the immediately doable and accept that, yes, I’m choosing not to do something that I easily could do, but it’s for the best, and it’s not laziness. The thing is, I’ve got my own protestant guilt and my mother whispering in my ear that if I’m not exhausted and on the verge of death from overwork, I suck. But pushing myself to that edge always pushes me over. Maybe when I’m in better shape, I’ll be able to push myself harder. I’m not sure if I’m in bad shape because my body is weak, or if my body is weak because I’m in bad shape. Either way, it’s an annoying negative feedback loop. One that’s got to be overcome . . . somehow. Regardless of my complete lack of success in doing so.
It does feel good, though, to be eating healthy and exercising again. It’s nice to not be sitting on the floor staring at a computer all the time, too. I’d love a chair, though. An honest-to-goodness easy chair. However, finding one is really difficult. I wish I could get one of those cool contoured Star Trek TNG chairs that Picard always lounges in, but, with my knees, I don’t know whether that’d be heaven or hell. Unless a store wants to let me spend a few hours in one over the course of about a week.
It’s the last day before payday, and I’m trying to get by without another ATM withdrawal. I have no idea how I spend so much here, other than how much money I blow when I eat out. I’m down to my last bill, and even my coin bowl is getting low. I’m worried about dinner tonight. I think I can just about pull it off, though.
I’ve been invited to a singing practice on Saturday morning, which is really unfortunate. I want to do it (exposure, plus fun), but it’s cutting into game time. Obara Sensei is sort of our . . . Satsuma Cultural Impresario. I don’t know what else to call him. He writes music, and plays music, and organizes concerts in town. He specifically asked me to join, and I’m in no position to say no. So, that’s going to happen. Pathfinder was canceled last week, though, and I don’t want to lose out on it again. Doesn’t appear that I’ve got a choice, though. It’s one or the other. One is a dead end, but beloved, hobby. One sounds somewhat dull, but has the promise of future benefits. Sometimes, you have to make the adult decision, even if that means that you don’t spend Saturday morning playing with your friends.
I am tired (I am always tired) but I don’t feel that overwhelming tired. At least not today, which is nice. I felt rather awake yesterday morning (for some odd reason). I guess, I’m sleepy, but I’m not crushed by a mind numbing exhaustion. That’s always good. I don’t like that feeling. Obviously.
I feel social again, too, which is odd. Of course, as I start to feel social again, I’ve moved my computer into an awkward place to talk to Simona, Tristan isn’t answering messages (or calls), and Courtney is actually in the right time zone. I want to go to the bar, but my stomach is weak these days, and I’m already fat.
I’m struggling to find a balance between that wonderful passion that forces me forwards (usually found when doing physical activity) and that crushing hopelessness that takes away pain. I remember coming back to America from China and just being so utterly hopeless that it was easy to walk and to exercise. I had become something of a Haitian style zombie. There was nothing to do but to work, to move, to keep going. I was distraught and I was broken, and I had no idea what to do other than to just keep moving. It wasn’t even feeling like I should. It was just the sense that to sit in a chair and do nothing was about as much effort as to walk six miles at a stretch. Sadly, in a physical sense, this was the healthiest for me as I had no motivation to push myself. I could adequately and accurately determine a course of action and stick with it. The downside was that I was utterly miserable all the time. Meanwhile, passion gets me moving, and moves me too fast, and I get injured, and I collapse. It’s unreliable and dangerous (almost always counter-productive) but it’s also really, REALLY, fun. I want to have that feeling. At the same time, when I don’t, it’s hard to find the will to do much of anything.
I don’t think that either of these extremes of actually doing stuff are healthy. It’s not good to spend your time feeling like you are a walking abomination of unlife. It’s also not good to go manic and break yourself. However, when I try to put myself in the middle, it’s very, VERY, difficult to do anything. And then I go into Orwell’s negative entertainment, where I just distract myself. But that’s a huge problem, and it’s never going to fix anything.
I remember in TNG, Tasha Yar explaining the appeal of drugs (in a very balanced argument for the 1980’s). People withdraw into a place that feels good, even if it makes reality worse, because reality is already bad. Eventually, all that matters is withdrawing from reality. The problem with drugs, from that perspective, is that they are withdrawing from reality in favor of an immediate sensory response. We’re deprived of our humanity because we’re not human at that point. We’re animals in search of a sensory response. I think that I’ve got my own things like that. One of the great things that aided my weight loss in the zombie days was how food lost its ability to please. One reason I wish that Soylent shipped in Japan is that I would love to stop taking so much consolation and pleasure in food. I’ve got my other places to withdraw into, and, it’s many of these things losing their luster that often motivates me into manic mode. When I’m forced into reality, without my escapes, I go nuts and try to fix everything, then collapse. Mania is my upper, zombie is my downer; how the hell do I live in the middle? How is it that crushing misery is actually the most functional I was? I don’t get it. At all.