My jaw hurts.
Yesterday, I got dental work done - two fillings. As the right side of my face went numb and the dentist and his assistant were poking and prodding in my mouth I had a panic attack. It wasn't just my face that went numb - my whole body went numb and for a second I was unsure if I could breathe or not. My higher self sprung into action. "You're okay. You aren't dying. Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine." I started to take control of my own breathing. Slow breaths, in and out of my nose. Breathing through my mouth didn't seem like an option anyway. It was full of dentil utensils.
Right before the procedure, the dental hygienist took my blood pressure. It was high. I knew it would be high. I was feeling stressed. I was shaking when I walked into the dentist's office. I, of course, was drunk the night before. And I had been Ubering all day. And using tobacco all day. And right when I sat down in the dentist's chair I got a call from an employer in my field who was offering me a job that I knew I would not take, and of course being a coward, I did not want to tell them no. So I was stressed. And my blood pressure was high. Take all those stressors, plus the fact that my blood pressure was much higher than it should be for a man my age, plus that fact that strangers were poking around my mouth - well, those are the ingredients for a panic attack.
But I beat it.
And now my mouth is healthier than it has been for a while. And I turned down the job. And so I'm set up. I have a job, albeit outside of my chosen field. But I have been ambivalent about my chosen field since I started graduate school - graduate school that was expensive and focused on my chosen field. And I have an apartment of my own for the first time ever. I've always lived with family, roommates, a girlfriend, family again. I'm going to be on my own.
It is absolutely, 100%, completely, totally time for me to take control of my life.
Stop boozing. Stop using tobacco. Stop compulsively masturbating. Stop isolating.
Time to get in shape. Time to have a social life. Time to take care of my soul.
I'm not leaving the desert. Not until I've figured it out. Like Christ. He went into the desert for over a month, I believe (I'm woefully out of touch with the Bible at this point. Note to self: refamiliarize thyself with the Bible). I've been here for how long? Four months. It'll be a while longer. But when I emerge from the desert. My spirit will be stronger. My body will be stronger. My mind will be stronger. My fucking bank account will be stronger. I know this.
Of course, I have my doubts. Here's a scenario: I move into my new place. I get complacent. I don't do shit. I sit around all day. I booze. I spend money like there's no tomorrow. No prayer, no meditation, no exercise, no self-control.
Is self-control in everyone? Is it a muscle? If it's a muscle I use it - a little at first, and then a lot. It gets bigger. Then it defines me.
Dear God: what defines me now and why?
And dear God: what is my calling?
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