I found myself oddly satisfied after “figuring out” my “base meal” and eating it for a couple days. Turned out it was WAY too high in carbohydrates… I probably went over 50 grams of carbs that day or two, which showed my ketone output in urine to be “trace” levels.
This has been correcting each day back towards my “moderate” range. So what are the foods to eat? Mostly stuff I don’t care for:
- Bok Choy
- Celery
- Spinach
- Broccoli Rabe (ordered seeds because this is not easy to purchase)
- Mushrooms
- Mustard Greens
I like mushrooms at least. I also give myself a tomato. The easiest “base meal” is a stir fry with lots of vegetables. I aim for 10g net carbs per serving, 2 servings per day. I can then fill in my remaining 5g carbs with something decadent like sugar free pudding mix or something unexpected.
Using this “formula” I can at least poop consistently. I found out earlier today that erythritol has a strong laxative effect on me. It’s not supposed to happen, but apparently about half a teaspoon is enough to make the magic happen.
This blog is supposed to be about depression though. Really this blog is supposed to be a place to say ANYTHING I want to when the depression starts to cripple me.
I have finally added a header image for the blog… painted it on a Microsoft Surface Pro 2 (or 3; can’t recall). Next creative endeavor is to start playing piano more to help my brain to more intuitively understand composition. Unfortunately this involves a new form of notation I invented which I haven’t written a translation layer for yet. Hoping to just start experimenting and finding patterns.
Has a ketogenic helped with depression SO FAR. Maybe yes? It feels like I go from “OK” (really just flatly tired) to deep despair. I *think* my productivity has gone up a little at least. It can be hard for me to feel motivated about things I don’t particularly find interesting or have a strong belief in. I try to think about my overall goals instead, but it’s still hard to perform the details.
Even so, my depression is not “Boo-hoo, no one loves me.” I really don’t care about being loved… basically at all. I can hear it ONCE and I never need to hear it again: OK, got the love thing done – NEXT! I also don’t care much about the approval of others… I care about my work being appreciated, but no one can offer me a valuable approval except myself. No one else has even an inkling of who I am or what I am capable of, and therefor cannot make an informed judgement.
My depression stems from a kind of CHRONIC BOREDOM. It took me many years to figure that out. Just a chronic boredom with existing… you go to bed and dread it, because there will be another tomorrow. Another day filled with the uninteresting experience of existence itself.
Some days I wake up and just stare at the wall for 30 minutes while drinking a cup of coffee. Eventually some motivation (or boredom with the wall) creeps in and I need to go do something else. I think perhaps what this keto diet really does it force someone to bypass bad habits that are linked to procrastination.
For example, I can’t snack on foods… snacking means I watch something on YouTube or Netflix while doing it, avoiding doing something else. I still watch something, but with meals, and only when no one else is around to socialize with. My meals are basically 2 primary (stir fry), and maybe something auxiliary. Not much in the way of snacking other than eating Pecans. I allow myself to eat as many Pecans as I “crave”. This conveniently is very few because I really don’t like pecans.
I’m determined to stick with this keto diet for a full 6 weeks to see if it has some real benefits. So far the ups and downs associated with glucose are almost entirely gone when it comes to eating meals. Now my state is more “zero”. My emotional state is more up or down based upon inconvenience of the world around me.
Waiting on a client; waiting for an email; waiting for something else… someone asks a stupid question. Laziness and stupidity are the greatest knives in my back. Nothing brings me down like some laziness with a dash of stupidity, pushed in my face, that I must address.
All that said, at least those mood changes are due to actual external reality. I’ve also realized that I have no stomach for maintaining contact with people; whether that be for potential sales or meeting new people. People are so often forgetful and neglectful that my efforts are not appreciated and therefor it feels fruitless. New people require familiarity, which requires telling them things about me… which involves telling new people things I’ve already told old people… not interesting.
What is this never-ending craving for “newness”? New new new new new…. I grow so tired of the things already mastered or easily mastered. I’m smart, right? Really smart. Tortured smart. Being smart is not fun or great.
I realized a long time ago that there is a bell curve when it comes to intelligence; if you’re stupid, life sucks; if you’re average, life is average; if you’re smart, life is pretty good; if you’re really smart you probably won’t find a situation that meets your full potential, and talking to most people is difficult; if you’re really really smart… smarter than almost everyone you’ll ever meet, you’re just tortured. When you are in the really really smart category, life is highly unfulfilling.
I could defend this perspective and my place in it, in this late night rant, that may never be read by anyone who cares; but, it becomes far too narcissistic even for my own taste. There isn’t a good way to measure intelligence anyway. Here’s my general take though: if you’re really really smart, you can learn what someone does as their career, well enough in a weekend to then do it professionally. If you can do that in almost any field/trade/discipline/notation/etc. then you’re probably really really smart. Congratulations on your shitty life. Try not to blow your brains out every single day.
Speaking of which, I have a lot of respect for people who have “made it” to their natural death – bonus points for making it beyond the average lifespan for your gender. Seriously, you can talk to a person who is really old and they may even be dead in the eyes, have hardly a thought bouncing around from dementia; but, wow… they have done the thing I HAVE NOT and MAY NOT ever do – they have SURVIVED existence.
If they actually enjoy existing at that age, I can only imagine they are absolutely insane. How to even liken such a thing as enjoying so much redundant existence? It’s like peeing into your own mouth and drinking it exclusively, every single day. It gets a little more concentrated and bitter each time, until you’re just going through the motions for a few drops before dying of thirst. CRAZY.