You may recall a recent post in which I mentioned a possible connection between my new anti-depressant and an increase in flatulence.
Jack and I have spent a huge amount of time together in the past week, with an even huger amount of stressure (yet another word that tumbled out of my creative mouth--an obvious combination of stress and pressure).
I told Jack that during my solo therapy session last week, the therapist pointed out that when Jack hears someone say something, he processes it and typically assigns it a value of 1 on his scale of stuff that he cares about, whereas I hear the same thing and assign a value of 20 (well, she backed off the 20 and said maybe it was only 10.) I told Jack that when he hears news about the health of a loved one, he processes that information as, "hmm, I didn't hear anything too bad, so this is low on my scale of stuff that matters," but when I hear the same news, I immediately go to LEVEL 10 alert, as in, "omg, he/she is going to die!" to which Jack replies, "we will all die someday" to which I respond (HIGHER LEVEL 10) "what? we're all going to die?"
Jack thought about that for a minute and said, "you suck all of the pressure out of a situation for all of us" which is when I noted that yes, I do absorb a lot more stressure than most and hey--could that be the real reason behind all of the flatulence? And could it be possible that releasing the flatulence is the perfect way to release my silly need to take responsibility for all of the stressure around me so that nobody else need feel it?
Without going into that area known as TMI, let me just say that just a small bit less stressure inside of my body caused a 1/2 lb weight loss. Seriously.
In my mind, that is certain proof (rising almost to the level of law) that stress and pressure can literally weigh me down, causing the numbers on the scale to rise, my shoulders to droop, and my hair to gray. Apparently I need simply recalibrate my response process and I can live lighter, on less medication and with less flatulence.
No wonder my dad is so carefree.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
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1 comment:
Yes, it's terrible to be the stress processor for the whole world. Hard to stop. But if you can recognize it, then talk yourself down off the ledge, you've got a good shot. You can do it! (and so can I, on a good day.)
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