Forgotten Tunnels

I had a pretty miserable year most of 2011. There were some highlights, sure, but most of it was downright bad. It was bad enough that it leaked into 2012, with January and February seeing the worst depression I'd had in a while, if ever. I was starting to think I was completely losing my mind and all fragments of myself, and I wondered often if I'd ever see the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe it was a tunnel that only went down into the dark, or it was a dead end. It might never open up again.

Sometime around the 10th - 12th of March, Tim and I were at Denny's for dinner. When we were leaving, I asked if we needed anything from Walmart, since it was late and that was one of the few things open. I just really felt like going, I guess. I like wandering around Walmart. Well, we went, and we met up with a friend I had worked with at Target. She was also a seasonal hire there, so, like me, Target dropped her when the season ended. She told me to apply.

I can't explain the draw I suddenly had for Walmart, and if I tried, it would sound so absurd. I'm sure not many people look at Walmart and say, "Oh my God, I absolutely positively want to work there. That seems like the best idea I've ever heard!" I hadn't even been actively looking for a job. I was still way too busy being sad that I existed, but I went home, got on my computer, and applied.

Needless to say, I got the job, and that was probably the best spontaneous and stupid decision of my life. Because of my job, I'm far healthier, both physically and mentally. I posted about the end of my relationship with Tim and the beginning of one with my coworker Will, and almost a month of officially dating later, we're doing great. We're both wonderfully happy to be together, and I think we're improving each other's lives a lot without even really trying.

Look at this guy. He's adorable!

Because of the hours of my job, I barely see my family anymore, which means much less stress at home. I wake up, Will gets me for work, I enjoy a day of unloading trucks and moving things, and then Will returns me to my house, where I usually make him food and we talk for hours about very random things like lemon turtles. He's there for me when I'm too tired to scoop my own ice cream, and I'm there for him when he's hacking up a lung and needs soothing tea.

I was just looking back over my blog earlier tonight and saw all the posts about being very depressed. It feels like that tunnel I was in is now a lifetime behind me, completely overgrown and hidden away. It feels like everything has settled into place, like everything is where it should be, and like this is how it was supposed to be all along. 

Seasonal Depression

There's a specific kind of depression known as SAD, or Seasonal Affected Disorder. Basically, certain seasons make you unreasonably sad, and it passes when the season passes. Usually it's winter. Anyway, I've never had it. I love the fall and spring for the colors and temperatures, the summer for the time outdoors, and the winter for the snow. All year round is great in my area, as far as I can see.

This year, though, winter just really got to me. We had temperatures that fluctuated on a weekly basis between 20 and 55 degrees, and any snow we got (which was not enough) was gone the next day. I've very much been ready for spring to come so I can at least have fun doing things outside.

Yesterday, I was pretty sure I wasn't feeling up to doing stuff, but I'd already made the commitment and had nothing better to do, so I was willing to go out. I went out onto the porch to see what kind of jacket I needed to wear. It was a wonderful 73 degrees outside. I ended up leaving my hoodie in the car because I was starting to get too hot. It was the best damn thing ever.

My bedroom window was open all night and my room is still warm. I can do things outside without my fingers going numb from the cold and the joints aching, and I can get ready for starting my veggie garden. Most importantly, it's about time I get back to doing things. I've been neglecting massive amounts of stuff, and that needs to stop. I have art to make and things to write. 

Neglect

A lot of my things are getting neglected lately. My DeviantART inbox is all sorts of overflowing, and my email still has messages from November that are untouched. My room is a little messier than normal, and now there's a broken microwave on my floor taking up space. I got halfway through dismantling the thing for parts and got tired of it.

I'm sort of living in this big sea of clutter. If Tim didn't live with me, I might just build a nest on my bed and spend all day there. I've been known to hoard things like that. I'd clean stuff, but I just haven't had the energy lately. I'm constantly tired or busy being really sad about doing things.

I know I really, really should be doing things. I have a big long to-do list and grandiose visions of me getting stuff done. All I'm actually doing is playing some Skyrim, eating, and watching '90s fantasy shows while telling myself and Tim that tomorrow is the day stuff really needs to get done.

It's all very sad and pathetic. 

Difficulty

It's been hard to do things lately. I've had no energy, no motivation, and no inspiration. I've hit one of the worst walls of depression I've ever seen. There are days (like today) when getting out of bed is just too much effort. Even while I'm typing this, I'm on my bed wrapped in a blanket because the prospect of taking a mostly cold shower (dying water heater) is just too much to deal with.

I have a massive pile of things that need to get done. I have tons of board game accessories and computer part jewelry to make for a craft show I'm planning on doing, and if that's hard to do, I can't imagine building up the stock for a later craft show.

Due to the incompetency and uncooperativeness of my family, I wasn't able to send in my medical assistance form on time, and I likely have another few thousand dollars of medical debt on my record that I can't pay. All they needed to do was give me some info I didn't know. Did they? Of course not. They just yelled at me that it was probably too late and never did anything.

I'm growing to hate a great deal of things and people. Lots of things are just getting to me more than usual, and it's becoming clear that very few people really grasp how difficult it is to do certain things, how mentally unstable I am, and how much of a rut this is.

This is the most writing I've done in a while. I've sat down to this blog many times and tried to express all of this, but somehow it never went well. I always decided I'd better stop writing before someone criticized me or tried to give me advice, both of which would irritate me and probably make me stay in bed for a week straight.

I'm very tired of getting advice, most of all. Just because you can do something doesn't mean everyone else can. There are many, many people below you, and maybe you're unaware of how difficult normal, every day things can be for other people.

I'm undecided on whether or not I'm interested in getting another job before college. I'm partly looking for more money. On the other hand, it was hard enough to find the motivation to go to work when I came home every night in pain and occasionally felt like I would pass out an hour into my day. If I said my health was mostly stable, I think I was wrong. It seems like it's deteriorating again. I've been getting awful headaches and the fatigue is worse than it's been in a long time. I don't really know that I can handle a job, physically or mentally. I can't even find the motivation or energy for my own projects.

I guess I just have a lot of things to deal with. The people that can help won't, the people that think they're helping are making things worse, and the stress of every day life has no outlet. Stuff is piling up due to the depression and total lack of interest, and that in itself is a big stresser, too. I'm constantly hurting and not feeling well, and that makes everthing much harder than it needs to be.

Part of me is very interested in getting out of bed and starting my day. The rest of me wants to sleep for a few months and hopefully wake up with some motivation. 

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. 

The Bottom

You always hear about people "hitting rock bottom," but what is the bottom, really? Is there ever really a point where nothing could possibly get any worse, and if there is, has anyone truly hit it?

I've suffered with health problems for almost three years now. They took away a year and a half of high school experiences, led to me losing countless friends, and have just generally made my life miserable. It's no fun having tons of free time if most of it is spent with a horrible headache, resting because your heart rate skyrockets past 200 and you see dark spots bursting in your vision. Weekly occurence for me. Seriously.

On top of all of that, there are the mental issues. Being bipolar helps absolutely nothing. I mean, maybe the manic parts help, but not enough to offset all the horrible depression. It's really damn hard going from a euphoric state of productivity and a feeling of invincibility to a state where you really wish you would just die and not have to deal with anyone anymore. It's hard on everyone involved, really, not just me.

Even at my lowest points, when I think I'm ready to just walk away and never look back, I can't say I've hit that proverbial rock bottom, and that scares me. I've watched things get worse. I've felt them get really, really bad, when they were already nearly unbearable. I've found myself wondering just how close to the verge of insanity I really am, wondering how much of so many things are real, or if I'm imagining things completely. It's hard feeling like you're about to totally lose it when you know there are still miles of dirt under you that can crumble away at any time.

Five Years from Now

I may seem like a walking cloud of anxiety and depression most of the time, but underneath all that misery, I'm actually a pretty optimistic person. I have goals and hopes and dreams and expectations. They change from time to time, but there are always a few constants. So where do I want to be in five years? In a lot of places at once, I think.

1. I want to be out of this house.
If you've never lived with every one of your single mother's unmarried siblings, never had to deal with a Downs Syndrome-afflicted uncle getting rapidly worse, never had to yell to the person in the same room because the people in the next are laughing too loud at terrible sitcoms for you to be heard, never had to check your silverware before use to make sure it's clean, never had to clean up the bathroom with every use, never been the only one in the house to go hungry a dozen nights in a row because no one thinks to ask you if you want dinner, never had to lock your own bedroom so people don't go in and steal things, never wanted to run away from the immense amount of negativity all around you every day, then you made out better than I did.

2. I want to have my Visual Arts degree.
Last most of you knew, my career choice was a teacher. Well, I wanted to be a Latin teacher, which is a certification type thing after doing other teaching stuff. Then Abington dropped me out, and I didn't get my full 4 years of high school Latin. I decided I'd go for Social Studies Education, figuring I'd always have the option to switch over to Latin. Then I learned Abington dropped their Latin program. I really don't want to teach Latin at a Catholic school, where it's required and I have a bunch of snobby students who don't want to be there. I'd rather teach at a public school, where the kids are in my class because they want to be. Thanks for killing that chance, Abington. So anyway, it made me really reconsider my career. I've been getting super hardcore back into drawing and stuff, and already you can see my progress. I learned that Keystone has a Visual Arts program, so I'll be going for that to improve and hopefully get somewhere.

3. I want a room full of stuff.
Art stuff. Photography stuff. Craft stuff. Jewelry stuff. Computer stuff. Music stuff. So much stuff that if I get inspired, I have everything I need in one spot. GOD, I LOVE STUFF!

4. I want a bigger kitchen.
I love cooking and baking, but my kitchen here is really tiny. There are too many people and not enough square feet for me to be able to cook as much as I'd like.

5. I want cats.
I love my cats. I don't think I'll be taking them with me when I move, though. Sylvester and Tiger are both 10+, and they had a hard time adjusting to a move when they were 5 and 4. I'd rather not stress them out again. Psyche might go with me, but I'm not sure. She does like me the most out of the three of them. If none of them go with me, totally adopting another kitty.

6. I want to have a job.
Sort of goes without saying, really, but with a Visual Arts degree, there's no guarantee that I'll have a solid career right out of college. It's more likely that I'll have a good-paying job that leaves me with enough spare time to do artsy stuff on the side.

7. I want to be with Tim.
It's no less important because it's this far down. It's just something I don't think of often because when I think of where I'll be in the future, he's always in the picture.

8. I want to have fans.
Or rather, I want one of my projects to have fans. All the projects I've started (or tried to start), and I feel so unnoticed. I just want one of them to catch on and get popular.

9. I want to have at least 3 books done.
I'll be finishing one within the next month, if all goes well. It's taken a little over a year so far. With college and stuff in the way, I imagine the next ones will take longer, so 3 seems to be a pretty realistic number.

10. I want a better understanding and knowledge of the metaphysical world.
It's something I'm currently working on. I've got a general knowledge of gemstones and horoscopes, and a very slight knowledge of natural remedies. I'd like to expand on all of that and learn new things.

11. I want to be healthier.
I imagine I'll be in better health once I get out of this massive amount of stress. Also, once I do more with number 10. I think it would be wonderful to go up stairs without my heart rate reaching 150.

12. I want a tattoo.
Seems so simple compared to the rest on here. I've had one in mind for a little while now, but I have no money, and any money I make has to go towards a new laptop. I feel like this is one of those things that I'll think about for an eternity before actually doing, and so it's on this list.

13. I want to like things.
I'm a super taster, which means I have like, 5 times the normal amount of taste buds. I can pick up preservatives that are normally undetectable and notice very slight differences in seasonings. It's great by itself, but as a kid, I never learned to like a lot of really common foods, and in a lot of cases, I don't think I ever will. There are too many things that trigger the gag reflex for me. Tim's managed to find some stuff I like, and I wish I liked more. It's really hard going through life on a diet as specific as mine.

14. I want to be child-free.
God, I hate children. They're gross, messy little noise makers that only serve to annoy me more than Tim can when he tries his hardest. I think I would kill myself. If he wants kids, I'll get him a puppy and put it in a stroller.

Depression

Depression is a word we throw around far too often. If we're even just a little sad, it's common that we tell our friends that we're depressed. Not only is it wrong from a technical standpoint, but it makes the true cases of depression seem less significant.

Right now, my boyfriend is suffering from depression worse than anyone I've ever known. Being bipolar myself, I know how depression feels. In my case, however, there are good moods that come and outweigh the bad. My boyfriend doesn't have that. His friends and I have watched him grow horrendously irritable and delusional. Despite the fact that he's known our friends for many years, he feels none of us care about him or understand how he feels.

We're trying to help him get better. Things are going to get extremely difficult for all of us, especially if he won't listen to what we try to tell him. He's got a long road ahead of him.