neurotic catharsis

I'm not usually the sort to talk about such things, but it scares me to think of what it could mean. It scares me enough to say fuck it, I need to get this out. Having someone to talk to helps put things in perspective, so I have to settle for blogging. I'm in far better health than Totalbiscuit was. He was a video game reviewer that I followed years ago. One day, out of the blue, he posted that he had cancer. It was shocking and sad.

A few years later, it had spread throughout his body, and his optimism was relegated to proclaiming it stable for the moment. As he was lauded for his positivity, I wondered if the Cynical Brit might be more cynical than he was showing. I wonder why people care so much about how positive we are, even and especially as we're beaten to death by life's bullshit.

We're supposed to accept the things we cannot change, but no one really has the wisdom to know what those things are. We're also told to keep trying, even when the odds are terrible. We're told that staying positive can help our chances, but really, if stress is a major factor in disease, of course people who are better at mitigating stress will have better odds. What helps mitigate stress? Friends and family, having things to look forward to, hormones like oxytocin and cortisol.

The positive attitude itself is just the manifestation of all that. Attempting to paper over it all to feign positivity is repression and makes stress worse. I think it's often entirely reasonable to be cynical, and find it strange the way we cheer when people in the most miserable situations can still be happy. Sure, it's nice that they can feel that way, but it seems almost beside the point. I don't see why someone just being realistic is any less deserving of the pat on the back.

Maybe this isn't very Buddhist of me, but lately I've been thinking a miserable situation is miserable regardless of how we feel about it. All feeling is essentially delusion, a fabrication of the mind, but the reality of it is that our bodies, including the brain, have all sorts needs in order to function effectively. That is the closest we can come to being able to define something as objectively bad. Every organism is born to function, and the less it can do so, the more it sucks for said organism.

I don't eat much of anything processed. No refined sugar, no meat, breads or pasta. I don't smoke or drink. My typical snack is peanut butter on a rice cake, and maybe an apple, for fucks sake. I don't have the family history he did. I know that it doesn't take much for me to think I'm dying, lately. Cancer can seem so fucking random. 

Class was extra tough. Not in a fun way, but it was what they call a conditioning class. Which means instead of sparring or mitt work, it's just one long intense workout. I had to slow down, as it threatened to make me nauseous again. It was really hot and humid again today. That does seem to be a contributing factor at the very least. As I left, I noticed that I was about as soaking wet as if I were standing in the rain.

For once, nobody was masked. I'd forgotten mine, and hoped it wouldn't be an issue. None of it was even mentioned. Cases in Vermont are down to single digits per day. Only one hospitalized, no deaths. Feels pretty much back to normal. Sure can't say I made it through unscathed.