Wil Wheaton (or Whil Wheaton, as I say it in my head every. single. time.) has been showing up a lot in my Facebook feed recently for telling The Huffington Post to fuck off. They wanted to republish a post he wrote, but they didn’t want to pay him, because The Huffington Post doesn’t pay for content. Wil said no way and proceeded to discuss on his own blog and Twitter why it is messed up for a corporation to get uber rich without paying the people who created the content that made it uber rich.
My Facebook feed is filled with writers; they were ecstatic about this most recent celebrity defense of their worth.
Oddly enough, Wil and HuffPo had their conversation a few months ago, but it’s enjoying a second life right now via Facebook.
The article in question was about the Seven Things Wil Wheaton Is Doing to Reboot His Life.
And that’s what experts call “burying the lead”.
I’m living it up in Costa Rica with sunshine and volcanoes and pico de gallo everywhere, and I can’t stop thinking about Wil Wheaton and his damn list. And my list.
And how I am so fucking done with not feeling like a fully functioning human being. “When was the last time I felt completely energized and healthy?” I wonder, and I suspect it was shortly after my daughter was born. She turns 11 next month.
So I am resolved to articulate my own list and then to follow through with it.
Using that R word scares the crap out of me because I have been very bad at maintaining any sense of resolve for a while. But doing anything less than that, I think, would guarantee my failure at this point. And I am just so tired of failing at this.
Without further ado, My Wil Wheaton List*:
*or, the things I am committing to do in order to reset myself:
1. Go to the doctor.
For a long time now I have accepted the fact that I need about ten hours of sleep a night, and that after sleeping ten hours I will still dread pulling myself out of bed. I decided it was just one more physical anomaly I was forced to live with and resent. Hating the way my body works has become so commonplace for me that it’s taken me over a year to consider that maybe there is something someone can do to help me.
With Wil Wheaton rolling around in my head, I finally googled sleeping too much. Anything over nine is probably a sign of some other shit going on with the body – like depression. In fact, one article suggested that this can often be a sign of low-level depression that isn’t yet manifesting itself emotionally.
Of course. Of fucking course depression is a likely player, and of course I have been attempting to deal with it myself because, hey! I’m already medicated! I do not want to deal with this anymore, thanks!
It could also not be depression. It could instead be something that will also explain why I seem to be inflating like a raft at a pool party. I can’t buy new clothes fast enough to keep up with my expanding ass. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so damn expensive and uncomfortable.
Bottom line is I am not healthy, and I am not in a position to make myself healthy all on my own. So, off to the doctor I go.
2. Eat better.
Those two words make me irrationally angry. I’m angry at all of the thin and healthy looking people I see at the tables beside me eating pancakes with syrup. I’m angry at my friends who say they aren’t willing to sacrifice good food and instead will just exercise more – and that actually works.
But mostly I’m angry at myself and my stupid, stupid body. Because I have not and never will be a person who can eat whatever she wants without suffering physical consequences.
And while we’re in this self loathing shame cycle, I’ll also admit that I’m angry at myself for being angry and whining about the unfairness of not being able to live off sugar in all its glorious forms. I know there are so many worse things and that this tiny inconvenience is nothing to whine about, and yet here I sit pissed off at the injustice of it all. And I know that self hatred is NOT A GOOD THING and I would never tolerate it in my daughter or my girlfriends.
Also I have PMS so this tornado of woe gets spinning really easily right now. My apologies.
I need to stop eating junk. I need to stop eating sugar. I might need to stop eating carbohydrates in general, but right now I can at the minimum commit to eating only real food.
This is a tricky one for me. Every single day I tell myself that I’m going to go for a walk, and every single day I find a reason not to.
I woke up late and have to dive right into work. I’m too tired. I’ll get sweaty and have to change clothes. I shouldn’t even have to walk and should just be focusing on an active lifestyle!
Sometimes I have a conversation with myself about joining a gym or signing up for a class. I love classes! I would be much more likely to go if I had committed to a class! I should be focusing on finding fitness that I enjoy! Right, except you’re really going to spend $100+ a month when you can’t even make yourself go for a walk once a day? Do that first, and then we’ll talk about upgrading you to a class. Besides, it’s a total waste of money to pay for a gym when there are so many free options available – like going for a walk!
My brain is so weird. (More on that in a second.)
I do have an Apple watch that has an activity montior, and I have completed the Magic Circle of Achievement exactly four times in the month of February – and six times in January. The threshold for said Magic Circle of Achievement is pretty low, so that’s where I’m putting my focus right now: complete the circle every day.
4. Write more.
Writing and I have had a very emo relationship for the past year. Blah. I’m over it.
Writing is something I have to do. It is imperative for my mental and emotional health.
My brain is very active. Very. Writing is how I prevent active from crossing over into insanity. It’s how I understand myself: by taking the time to pull out jumble and stretch each thread out line by line so that they resemble something that makes rational sense to me. I’ve been fooling myself into thinking that having thoughts are the same as processing them, and that has not been working out so well for me.
I feel like I’ve lost touch with my brain and my intuition. I realize it’s because writing is how I communicate with myself.
So whether it’s blogging, writing in a journal, or working on my next book, I will be writing every day. It will be on the very short list of things that cannot be pushed off, regardless of what other people’s lists for me might look like.
I am keeping this list intentionally short. I have a tendency to want to make big dramatic changes all at once and then giving up completely when I can’t succeed at everything.
And really? Who I am and what I need is not that complicated.
I just want to feel like a fully functioning human being. I want to feel like my body is a vessel and a tool rather than an angry master to which I’m a slave.