Hey there,
Man, I seriously thought this whole thread was dead and buried for good, but apparently not, huh?
First off, let’s cut the crap—stop insulting people, including students. You gotta show some damn respect to everyone, especially someone who’s actually healthy enough to even look at these depressing topics, which most people would rather run a mile away from.
"Alternative" my ass. Some people don't even have the luxury of choosing, because by the time they're facing it, the disease is already too far gone, or they try "alternatives" and they don't do squat. I've already written a whole novel about my own situation here—and seriously, thanks to everyone who jumped in—but the bottom line for you and me is the same: In your struggle, you chose quantity, while I'm all about quality. Translation: There’s a massive chance I’ll be nothing but ashes in an urn for a long time while you’re still out there watching the sun rise and set. And hey, don't go calling me a loser. Everyone makes their own calls, and they choose their own path using their own damn heads.
Look, I don't buy into mental health issues, and I certainly don't want to deal with them the "Western" way. If I ever realized I wasn't in control of myself—which can happen to anyone in a split second—I’d honestly reach for a revolver before I'd ever step foot in a psychiatrist's office. But I'm not recommending that to anyone, and I'm definitely not encouraging it; I want people to live. It's just how I view life: there’s a line in the sand where life just isn't worth living anymore, and I'm being blunt about it. And it’s not just about my head; it’s about paroxysmal AFib, too. I love life while I'm actually living it, but when it ain't... what am I supposed to do? Sorry, not sorry.
Yeah, I check my temperature, blood pressure, and pulse. Don't go labeling that as anxiety; it's called taking care of yourself. For instance, keeping my blood pressure under control is absolutely critical in my mess. How am I supposed to *not* check it? And it’s not just checking numbers—I’ve cut red meat out of my diet, ditched the cookies, minimized salt, cut out white flour and sugar, and I'm trying to drop a few pounds. On top of that, I've added things that actually help with my diagnosis, like flaxseed, salmon, nettle tea, walnuts, and stuff like that.
So, go ahead, just label me completely insane based on that, why don't you?
And as for sharing all this shit here, first of all, I don't have any influence over anyone, and second, let's be real—nobody cares. If it weren't for you, this whole topic would have drifted off into total obscurity a long time ago.
I'm not gonna write about this anymore unless someone specifically asks me to share my experiences... I just don't have the time for this. Honestly, if I had never heard of AFib, I wouldn't even know. My symptoms are pretty manageable right now; I'm not exactly "healthy," but I'm doing okay. And obviously, I haven't gone down the rabbit hole of studying AFib like I planned to, because as soon as I started feeling better, I went back to the things I actually enjoy doing. Studying AFib takes a massive amount of time and effort. I'd have to be way sicker to even bother with that. There are much better things to do with your life than obsessing over this... and if I have to, then fine, I'll do it when I have to.
Am I just posting nonsense on the forum? I'd much rather have someone write this kind of stuff to me than have to write it to someone else. But man, it breaks my heart to read something so cruel and heartless. Whatever, though; I'm always ready to forgive sincerely and with a Christian heart...
For me, it's not about having a private cardiologist, let alone a private psychiatrist. If I ever needed help from a combo of specialists, and I had to choose between a neuro guy and a heart guy at the exact same time—I'm picking the heart guy every single time.
I'm not kidding myself; I'm making a conscious risk. I've written about why before. But here's another example: In the morning, the delivery guy brings the newspaper, and I used to jump up to grab it. But after spending two days in the hospital, I see that I don't even feel like doing that anymore; I could barely manage to get downstairs to pick it up. By the third or fourth day, I wouldn't even bother going out for it, and that would be that. Basically, I'm not that guy anymore. Being in the hospital changes you; it makes you someone you don't even recognize.
I know you shouldn't play games with your heart or cardiac issues. I get that. But I don't see it that way. I see it like this: if I follow conventional heart treatment, I'm playing games with my soul and my mental health. And I won't compromise on that—no matter the cost! Why should I have a sick heart AND a sick soul and mental health to boot? I won't! I can't! And I don't want to! I know I could lose my life, and myself along with it. But I could also save my life and lose who I am—which, to me, is basically the same as dying. Life isn't just a healthy body; it's a healthy soul and mental well-being. All of it together is what makes life. Physical health might take a hit, but mentally and spiritually, it can't, because that's what carries you through; it's more important. At least, that's how it is for me, you nutcase.
Look, just trust your doctor, alright? Why wouldn't you? I honestly have nothing but respect for that kind of bond. Cheers to both of you living long, healthy lives! But seriously, let's just drop this whole argument and move on before it gets even more ridiculous. There is absolutely zero point in you trying to lecture me, because nothing you say is ever going to change my mind, and frankly, I’ve got no interest in sitting here giving you a sermon on anything either... Unless your goal was to give me a massive spike in blood pressure and send my heart racing with palpitations—because if that was the plan, mission accomplished! But hey, I can't even stay mad at you for it...
Later!
