Last night a jabbing pain on the left side of my chest woke me up. Before I go on, I should tell you all that even though I'm adopted and I know near to nothing about my biological family, I do know some of the medical things just in case. To supplement that, the only thing in my biological family that was any health concern was that my Uncle had a heart attack at 21. I suppose that's always been at the back of my mind, ever since I realized that I'm really not in good shape and I'm rather unhealthy. I obviously know that I'm not as unhealthy as a lot of Americans, but I do know that I have that family history of being susceptible to being unhealthy. There are things I could do now, of course, but honestly a lot of the conditioning and horrible effects on my body happened in my younger years. To this day, I am so honestly...I don't know, sad/mad/disappointed in my adoptive parents for raising me the way they did. My bone structure is extremely tiny and fragile, I'm very petite, biologically...both my parents were shorter people and extremely small (mom - 5'1"-5'2"@110, dad - medium height@120) ... I know that without how I was raised I would be my ideal weight right now. I have no illusions whatsoever that the eating patterns my adoptive parents established earlier are probably to blame for a lot of my stomach problems that I struggle with now, along with the weight problems and health problems. I was an average, very active child. From pictures you can see that my body really did fight what they were trying to do with it. I had an amazing metabolism back then. (I'd like to bring up Drew and compare us. He is much larger than I ever was at his age. I was actually an extremely sprite-like child.) Sure, I had a little bit of baby fat, but that honestly would have come off. By the way, I wasn't lazy at all - I played softball and basketball, I swam and did baton, honestly...I loved sports and being active until the tolls of the unhealthy environment I was raised in took me down...all it took was an opportunity - and that would be when my mind took me into the depression of my middle school years. Elementary was my best years. This morning I was so scared. I woke up with pains, my body starting getting numb, tingles everywhere, heat flashes, blackouts, and my left arm hurting like crazy. Honestly, I freaked out. I didn't know what it is, and the only thing that could go through my mind was that my uncle had had a heart attack at my age. I cried for a good while after waking Mandy up, and she patiently sat with me and puzzled it all out, comforting me and allaying my fears. I went and took two aspirin and slept like a baby once they set in. I know what is was - horrible pains from my boobs. ;.;Still, it really shot an arrow through my heart. I'm still going to be sitting here moping and crying about my past unless I really go and do something and reverse what they did. It's not a question of whether it'd be nice to - it's I need to. I really, really don't want to wake up one morning and really being having a heart attack. I refuse to. Labels: health, life story, unhealthy americans, weight
