I haven’t posted in years.
I’m considering taking up blogging again because I’d like to use it as a platform to share with more depth than I allow myself on Tumblr. I’ve realized, upon logging in a few moments ago, that this blog has become a time capsule of myself. The “LOVE” page, for instance, is completely hilarious to me. I find it endearing, like seeing a child you used to babysit who has since become a young adult. Revisiting my younger self make me reconsider invigorating this blog–I’d quite like to keep this time capsule as-is rather than corrupt it with my older, more revolting and less idealistic mind.
The truth is, I’m grasping for a way to stay sane because I can’t run anymore, and I can’t binge on carbs–both former coping mechanisms. I might have an auto immune disease, but we’re not sure. What I do know is that I have something, some kind of illness that will require a major lifestyle shift and I’m desperate to make it as graceful as possible.
Decidedly, I’m turning to culture as a form of escapism. I’m going to read books, write, make art, go to the ballet, the opera, the theater; I’m going to watch movies, go to workshops, talks, conferences, museums, galleries, open studios; I’m going to make salads in the same way that some people make cookies (inventively and constantly) and when I feel like stuffing my face with food I’m going to buy a basket full of fruit and when I feel like running I’m going to dance.
I have an important doctors appointment tomorrow with a rheumatologist. Hopefully I can get a diagnosis and some medication for my swollen, achy bones.