Meaning

A lot of people seem to think their lives have no meaning. For me, art has always been my meaning. Music, whether I'm listening to it, playing it, writing it, or it's just a part of the background, has always been very uplifting, motivating, and inspirational. Drawing has become more prominent as of late. It's really nice making art for someone's tattoo idea or whatever and seeing them really pleased with your work. Fractals, jewelry, photography, writing...they're all really rewarding. It's great doing stuff that other people enjoy, especially when it's really fun to do in the first place.

Working 42 hours a week has really changed that. Suddenly, I'm lucky to write 20 words a day or listen to 5 songs other than the ones playing on the ride to and from work. I went out yesterday (it feels like a month ago already) to a flea market, and that was a nice change of pace. Then I worked until 1:40 AM, stayed up until 6 AM, and slept until 4. I'll be going to bed after only 5 hours of being awake just so I can be up for my early morning shifts this week.

Point is, I've hit this horrid cycle of trying and failing to sleep, being exhausted when I have to get up and go to work, then getting off and being too sore from work to get anything done. Today is my day off; that's the only reason I'm finding time for this blog post.

I have a Christmas ornament to mail out. I have a large batch of barbecue sauce to make and mail. I have a half-completed medical assistance form that needs to be finished and mailed back. I lost a tattoo commission because I was days late. It's all just very frustrating, disheartening, and generally depressing.

I'd love to just take two days off and get stuff done, but I know that, in all likelihood, I'd spend the first day just recovering from working. People just seem to get ruder and more unpleasant as Christmas grows closer. Working register at Target the past week, I've gained so much stress just from dealing with people. I'd much rather be out on the sales floor helping people find things than standing at a register bagging items and arguing that the $30 DVD someone is holding is not the $20 one that's on sale for $14. I usually give up, mostly to keep my own sanity relatively intact.

I've taken in mostly chocolate, sweets, and caffeine over the past week. I baked myself an entire cake just to have cake. It was what I did while I should have been making my second test batch of sauce. Point is, I'm sort of miserable.

I think the worst part is that I can handle this job. I'm fast, efficient, and don't call off unless I'm sick. I'm there on time and leave when they want me to leave. It's just not bad enough for me to need to quit. It's even improving my health in some ways. I'm regaining a lot of muscle that I lost from inactivity, and I'm getting used to being active again.

I'm only a seasonal hire. I have 90 days of employment, and maybe they'll decide to keep me, but I don't plan on staying. I'm just really unwilling to quit a job that I only have for 3 months. I'd rather be able to say I finished my seasonal time without issue.

The whole thing is pretty awful. I know I can do it, and that doesn't make it any better. I don't want to do it, but I want to quit even less. It's just a big pile of obligations and priorities that I don't want to deal with. 

The Pros and Cons of My Health

I have more things wrong with me than I can keep track of. It's not all bad, though, and in some things are half great and half awful. There's almost definitely stuff I'm missing, but this is what I came up with over a few days.

The Good Stuff

1. My metabolism is ridiculously fast.

I can eat a full meal to the point of being very full, then be hungry again two hours later. I can essentially eat whatever I want and never gain a pound.

2. I'm bipolar.

The manic half of bipolar disorder leads to days of hyper, productive euphoria and good moods.

3. I look nice.

I have reasonably clear skin and a decent figure. I'm more comfortable with my body than most people ever will be.

4. I have excellent hearing.

It can be a little selective at times, but I can hear really slight sounds and make out conversations from very far away.

5. I metabolize sugar faster than most people.

This allows me to take in massive amounts of pixie sticks and not turn diabetic.

6. I have a high tolerance for pain.

Mostly because I live with it every day.

7. I have perfect blood pressure.

This amazes me. Everything else wrong, and my BP is right where it should be on the dot.

8. I'm a fast runner.

I'm short, so my tiny little legs don't let me keep up with everyone as well as I'd like, but I can run pretty fast if I need to.

9. I heal insanely fast.
I'm hard to cut open. If I do get a cut, it has to be really deep before I bleed even the tiniest amount. I almost never bruise. I don't callus. I heal so fast that I rarely scar, and my scars fade a lot over time. My broken finger healed like, two weeks ahead of schedule, much to the happiness of my doctor. 

The Bad Stuff 

1. My metabolism is ridiculously fast.

It's speeding up. I lost a bunch of weight a couple years ago. I was at 105 at my heaviest, I think, which was essentially a perfect weight for little 5-foot-tall me. I dropped down to 92 over the course of about 3 months, and no one knew why. I had no change in diet or anything. It just sort of happened when all my other issues happened. I've gotten back up to 95, and now, even though I eat constantly, I can't gain any more. I'm always hungry. I eat more than my boyfriend does, and he's gaining weight. There's not really much I can do about it.

2. I'm bipolar.

The depressive aspect of bipolar disorder comes with being miserable, snapping at everyone, feeling tired, being sad, and just generally being really unhappy with everything. There are also a whole ton of negative things that are symptoms, most of which I have (though whether they're from the bipolar or something else I don't know), such as chronic pain, mood swings, etc.

3. I have frequent headaches.

Sometimes they come on by themselves. Others, they're triggered. I get headaches really easily. Too much noise will give me one. So will frequently switching songs without hearing them fully. I think it's because it breaks the flow that my mind expects, but that's just a theory. I don't like loud noises; having the TV too loud is actually quite painful. Sounds I dislike, like whistling, can give me one. Interestingly enough, I've done entire works of art in Sharpie and had no issues.

4. My joints all ache.

I have arthritis in my hands. My left index finger, which I broke a few years ago, just started having severe pain. My right wrist was starting to develop carpal tunnel once, but I was able to reverse it. My knees ache a lot.

5. I have to crack my joints to keep them from causing excruciating pain.

I can crack a whole ton of things. It's how I start my morning so I can move. As time passes, my joints get very stiff and sore as pressure builds up. Cracking joints relieves the pressure, loosens them up, and lets me continue working. My back is the best example of this. My spine sort of contracts, and if I don't crack it, it feels like the bones are grating, and the slightest movement sends a sharp pain down my back as if I've been stabbed. It hurts enough that I can't move for a second after it happens. Cracking it makes it all better. It sucks, especially, since I know lots of people don't like the sound, but I really do need to do it. 

6. I have slight scoliosis.

It's a condition where your spine is curved. In my case, it's likely from heavy backpacks in my early school years. It's minor, but it makes my back a little sore sometimes depending on how I sit.

7. I probably have asthma.

At the very least, I have really weak lungs. Moderate exertion makes my lungs burn and ache, and it takes over an hour before the pain goes away. I spent most of my childhood years in a trailer we heated with kerosene heaters. I suspect the oily smoke didn't help my lung development much.

8. I have a very weak immune system.

I get sick easily. I get very high fevers, and there have been several times when I've spent a week being really, really sick.

9. I frequently get dizzy.

Seeing lights burst in my vision, dark spots, and sometimes my vision just going black all happen all to frequently. It happens a lot when I do too much physical activity, but sometimes I'll just be sitting at my computer doing nothing.

10. I cant handle heat.

My body runs at 95 degrees. It pretty much stops functioning in temperatures above 95, and slows down drastically above 85. I get nauseous to the point where I barely eat, I get dizzy, I black out, and I can't breathe. Last year, my boyfriend and I went to a big camping/concert/party weekend. The last day there, we were packing up the tent in the sun, and it was probably about 92 degrees. I hadn't eaten much for breakfast because our stove ran out of propane. I blacked out, almost threw up, and ended up sitting on the bumper in the shade soaking myself with water while he did most of the work. My heart rate was way up, and so was my breathing. I don't know if that was heat stroke point, but if it wasn't, it was pretty damn close.

11. I have terrible balance.

I'm lucky I can stand up without tipping over, and I do tip a lot. My ex used to say I'd better never end up in a situation where I needed to take a sobriety test, because I would fail miserably when totally sober. I can walk in high heels and sprint through the woods no problem, though.

12. I'm slightly lactose intolerant.

It's really minor, so it's not a huge deal, but it makes me a little picky about how much of what kind of milk I'm willing to drink. Too much makes me queasy.

13. My eyesight is awful.

I inherited bad eyesight on, like, all sides of my family. Things get blurry about 10 inches from my face, if that.

14. I sweat a lot.

Maybe it's because of my metabolism. I really don't know. It sucks, though. Even when I'm cold, I sweat.

15. I can't eat a lot.

I have a small stomach. On top of that, when I eat a lot, my heart rate speeds up and I get really tired while I digest stuff. I feel sort of sick and dizzy for about an hour.

16. I have a high tolerance for medication.

That means not much works for me, which isn't very good.

17. I have a few specific aches and pains that keep coming back.

I sometimes get a sharp pain in my left leg (right where it meets the hip) that forces me to walk with a really slight limp. I get it every now and then, and it goes away pretty quickly. My right ankle bothers me sometimes. My jaw hurts sometimes because I grind my teeth at night.

18. I get tons of bug bites.

My boyfriend and I have pretty substantial evidence that bugs go for the sweeter blood, and because of my naturally high blood sugar, I'm always the first choice. He used to be the only one in his family to ever get bitten. When I'm around, I get all the bites and he doesn't get any.

19. I can't tread water.

I mean, I can, but only for about 30 seconds. I'm not very buoyant, and my legs are sort of weak.

20. Being startled is very painful for me.

Adrenaline makes my heart beat faster and my chest ache. It really hurts, and it takes a while for that to calm down and go away. I don't appreciate being scared.

21. My heart rate can go past 200 when sitting still.

It fluctuates rapidly. It's anything but slow and steady.

22. I have frequent chest pains.

Doctors have looked and found nothing. Of course.

23. I can't stay on a regular sleep schedule.

I'm all over the place. Being bipolar doesn't help any, especially when I can stay up for 26 hours before feeling tired, be awake for 8 hours and need sleep, or be unable to stay asleep for more than 6 hours.

24. Sometimes my hands shake horribly.

Other times they're perfectly steady. 

Insanity and My Addiction to Pain

I know this little blog isn't super popular. I only have 6 subscribers in total, and a couple of those are only here for my daily art and jewelry crap. I don't see the names of the people who subscribe to my blog's feed, but I'm willing to bet that those people aren't four of my closest friends who know me inside out. Most of the things I blog about aren't really personal. I mainly want to share my art, recipes, and (sometimes) experiences. This post, however, will give you a real look into my life and mind.

I am probably one of the best examples of a person debilitated by stress. I live with three cats, my mother, her two sisters, and her two brothers, one of which has Down Syndrome. My boyfriend moved in about a year and a half ago. So far, maybe this doesn't seem so bad. What seventeen-year-old gets to live with her boyfriend, for that's how old I was at the time he moved in? Keep in mind that no one in my family went to college. They all have entry-level jobs in food service, so they put in about forty hours a week for little money. That's part of why we live together. The bigger reason is to take care of Chris, my retarded uncle.

My two aunts (I have a third, but she is the only married member of the family and lives outside of this house) are easily two of the dumbest, ignorant, most miserable people I've ever met. They're kind to others, especially at work where they deal with people all day, but all the tension and anger piles up until the get home, when they complain about things that are out of their control and have stupid reasons for hating the world. They also fuss over the cats like they're their children, picking them up whenever they walk by, kissing them constantly (and loudly) and talking to them like babies. It's beyond words how awful this is. My cat's shrink back from them sometimes, but they don't care.

Among almost all of the family members, there's arguing. My mom is almost deaf in one ear from wearing a headset at work all day, so she's obnoxiously loud naturally, and pairing that with a couple irritable people makes for stress that you can't know unless you've been there. Recently, my uncle Chris has been declining, and it seems like every plan to get him help has failed to get off the ground. No one really knows how to treat him kindly, so he goes into his room and screams at them through the door. They usually yell back. More stress.

I have almost every stress-induced symptom known to man. I have severe joint pain, insomnia, chronic fatigue (even when I sleep well), weight issues (loss in my case), dizziness, headaches, migraines, and spotty vision. All of that made me miss so much school my junior year that the school dropped me out. Up until my junior year I only had the headaches and insomnia, then everything came on at once. Instead of staying up for 24 hours, I could only stay awake for 8. I was a wreck.

I've been depressed for years, probably as early as my seventh grade, I'd say. I'm the type to really lash out at someone who really pisses me off, but I usually have to hold that in check. I have enough control to never lash out at a teacher, for instance, mostly because I've always cared very much about consequences and first impressions. My anger is reserved for those who will forgive me later, which has caused more problems than anything, really. I've been in relationships that were perfect up until it reached a certain point of comfort, then they attracted my wrath like a magnet, ending the relationship.

Music has been my outlet. Many people out there say metal and hard rock music promotes violence. Maybe for the weak. For me, I channel my anger into those grinding melodies and let it relax me. The metal pulls the anger away, and I feel much better afterwards. I've never turned to smoking, cutting, drugs, or alcohol. Those leave permanent scars, and scars aren't consequences I like. Furthermore, what if alcohol, for instance, brought me pain relief that I never imagined? Then I have the type of personality to become Clark Summit, PA's next alcoholic. Good bye, life! I don't even like taking pain relievers for the same reason. I know Advil is not physically addictive, but I don't want it as my crutch. I've built up an abnormally high pain tolerance over the years just because I've suffered through so many headaches.

With my current boyfriend Tim in the picture, my insomnia has barely existed. But right now he's away for a two week testing period at a college he may attend. He's been gone over a week, and in that week, I've barely slept. All the stress has no outlet. I'm a machine of angst, adrenaline, and pain. Every part of my body hurts right now.

With every waking hour, I feel a million emotions. The slightest thing makes me panic. I'm hostile to almost everyone and everything. Little bits of insanity keep poking in through my armor of anger, weakened as it is by my horrid sleep patterns. I feel the need to release all of it, but I can't. I'm drawn to that pain like a heroine addict is drawn to a needle. I let it build and build, and the more it builds, the more insane I become - the more sadistic, panicked, volatile, and agonized I become. It is a terrifying, exhilarating, tingling feeling all over my body. All the conflicting emotions bring out the adrenaline and the inspiration.

I have spent years training myself to embrace the pain rather than hide it. I practically absorb it into myself, using it as fuel to keep myself going day after day.

Perhaps that is why I am an insomniac.