Heat Intolerance, Life Intolerance

I’ve been pretty extreme lately with my weight loss. I don’t really need to lose a bunch of weight really fast, but I just felt like doing it for “fun”. I’ve been doing everything extreme. I’ve been eating very little, doing up to 10 hours of sweaty exercise a day, and taking super cold and super hot baths.

I won’t list the exact things I did, but the last couple days were extra hardcore. The main reason it wasn’t as hardcore in the first few days is because I hardly did any exercises in recent years and my muscles were getting shitty. After pushing through the first days, my body is now capable of doing even more exercises, so I proceeded to do more. The last few days were extra bad because I had difficulty sleeping. All the conditions aligned for something almost bad to happen today.

Given the title, it’s shouldn’t be a surprise that one of my extremely hot baths almost went awry. What I do is boil several pots of water and mix it in the tub with the hottest tap water to get water that’s really hot. I’ve done this at least 3 other times before and things went pretty normal for all those times. After all those times, I’ve learned how to get into even hotter water. Last time I did a hot bath a couple days ago, I discovered that even though I dip my foot in and it’s too hot to keep the foot in there, if I sink my entire body in the water, it’s actually more tolerable. I put that to the test today and repeatedly attempt to keep my whole body in the water. I had to get out a few times because it was really too hot, but then I was finally able to stay in there.

I had thought that once I can keep my body in the water, it’s smooth sailing. Turns out, it was too hot for my body and I was suffering from heat intolerance or multiple sclerosis or something. I don’t really know what that is, but that’s what came up when I did a google search on it. My hands and feet started getting numb and at first I thought it was cute. But then it kept getting more numb, along with my chest too. Soon, it felt like my body was vibrating uncontrollably. I’ve never felt this level of numbness before. Because I was fully aware that I was doing something extreme, I was smart enough to push my limits only a little bit at a time. I could’ve kept enduring the numbness, but I figured I’d cool off a bit first and make sure I’m really okay. If I’m fine, then I can push harder next time.

When I got out of the tub to spray myself down with cold water in the shower, I found that I was a bit weak and sleepy. I thought it might be because I over-exercised and didn’t get enough sleep. Turns out those were symptoms of heat intolerance. I don’t know if I would go as far as to say I was losing my consciousness, but it was definitely foggy. But then maybe it was just because of all the steam. I basically just felt sleepy but I tested and made sure that I can use my mind to wake myself up. It sounds weird, but basically, I’m only sleepy if I let my body be sleepy. I can always focus and give myself a burst of wakefulness. I was still able to do that. I guess that means I wasn’t too close to death’s door yet.

After cooling down and getting less numb, I got back in the tub and my body got numb again so I got back into the shower. That repeated four more times until finally, the water cooled down enough that it was no longer giving me extreme numbness. When I googled “hot bath numb” after the bath(s), it turns out that people have died this way. I could have died this way. I wonder if maybe I should’ve. It would’ve been a pretty painless way to go. The actual dying part is painless, but it hurt like hell getting into the hot water.

After I finished the whole bath business, I had dinner with my dad. My mom was still sleeping. She slept through the whole day. She always does that when she’s depressed, which is always. My dad tried to talk to me a bit. For this dialogue, bear in mind that my dad is often times an angry asshole. He lightheartedly and disappointingly questioned why I didn’t go to the doctor with my mom yesterday when she asked. I told him that she never asked. She only asked me to do some other dumb shit for her and I did it for her. Then my dad continued to give a speech about why I should’ve gone to the doctor with my mom if she asked me to. It wasn’t even a speech. It was just repeating misinformation. So I told him again that my mom never asked. Then he called me an angry cunt or some other stupid name for raising my voice. I didn’t raise my voice. After that, he kept making fun of me for being an angry person who will never meet any girls. That’s what he defaults to when he has nothing else to say. He also complained that I never go out and simultaneously disapproved of me biking to places because one time he saw a cyclist scratch a car and the driver came out and threw the bike down the street, bending the tires in the process. The lesson of the story, according to my dad, is that white Canadian people are crazy and will irrationally attack you if you provoke them even a tiny bit.

That’s a typical Saturday for you. It makes me wonder if I would’ve been better off dying in the tub. I know talks of suicide are depressing and I don’t really mean it. I want to want to live. (yes, want to want to) Um… wow, I don’t know how to end this less depressingly. I guess the moral of my story is that you can die in a tub if you’re stupid and try to cook yourself in almost boiling water. I guess I’ll also point out that I’m aware that the title is a little weird. It kind of makes sense, but kind of doesn’t. My titles are often like that. Get used to it.

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