The eyes have it…or do they?

As many of you know (probably from the timing of these posts), I tend to wake up on the early side of early. Sometimes it’s due to my cat being a dick, sometimes it’s weird dreams, and sometimes I just wake up because my body thinks it’s done sleeping.

But is it? I thought my body was done sleeping when I woke up at 2:45, eyes wide open. This morning I keep dozing off at the laptop, hands hovering over the keys, eyes drooping of their own accord. I could put the laptop away and go back to sleep–or rather could have gone back to sleep…now it’s about time to think about getting ready for work anyway. I’ve even had most of an energy drink and my morning Adderall. This will make for a very long day at work today.

It’s weird how I ended up being such an early riser when I used to sleep in as long as possible. It all started when I got a bout of insomnia, and I’d wake up between 1:30 and 3:00 every morning.

Enter Rory, the cat that’s as much a joy in my life as a pain in my ass. He’s a smart cat…sometimes too smart. He taught himself to play fetch. He taught himself that getting in the carrier and going in the car 95% of the time means a trip to visit the other animals at my parents’ house. And he taught himself that I’m “supposed” to be up between 1:30 and 3:00 every morning.

Since we adopted him while I was having my insomnia, he assumed that being up that early was my normal state. When I finally started being able to sleep until “normal” times, he decided that this was not right and proceeded to wake me up every morning between 1:30 and 3:00.

Hence the cat trained me. Thankfully, I now usually don’t wake up until around 2:45 to 3:30, so I guess that’s a bit of an improvement. I go to bed much earlier than I used to, so it kind of balances out. I get roughly 7 hours of sleep a night, even on nights when I have to work super early the next day. Not too shabby. Still, it makes for some long days.

Usually I’m active in the mornings, either writing or sewing or doing some other such semi-productive thing. This morning, however, I just could not muster the energy to walk across the apartment to the craft room to sew on the final touches of my husband’s next pair of cosplay pants. All I have to do is hand-sew some belt loops on (I’d machine-sew them, but my husband tends to be rough on belt loops and I’d rather not have one of them rip off in the middle of a con–best to sew them on by hand where I can put extra stitches in places that a sewing machine just can’t get to), so one would think I’d be eager to get them finished so I can move on to the next thing. One would think.

Since I’ve started typing this I’ve woken up a bit. My eyes no longer droop, and I’m just about ready to start getting ready for the day.

Bring it on, world!

Bang my head against the wall

Oh…my…Goddess. I’ve had recurring headaches the past couple of weeks, nearly every day, usually in the evenings. It’s getting annoying.

As long as I catch them early and take some acetaminophen within the first half hour, they stay under control. I know from experience, however, that if I let a headache go without taking something it’s going to end up at near-migraine levels, if not a migraine itself.

This afternoon I had to stop working on my Naruto cosplay because a headache reared its ugly, well, head. I took something, but it’s still lingering.

It doesn’t help that I keep noticing little things that I need to make for the cosplay. Gotta make gloves, gotta either find cosplay shoes online or buy some sandals & modify them to match, gotta make some straps of fabric to go around the shoulders, gotta make sleeves for the kimono (because the pattern I found didn’t have sleeves)…lots of little things, but things that make the character.

I still haven’t started on the hardest part–the coat–and the vest that I need to pretty much design from scratch. Then we’re going to use some hot-glue cosplay magic to make my husband’s sandals, because the only ones he can find online that match his character don’t come in his size.

Oh yeah, and there’s the painting of the gourd, making some kind of sling for him to carry it, and figuring out some way for us to carry our things (because the patterns I have come sans pockets). All this with barely 5 weeks until the con.

It’s no wonder I’m getting headaches.

OCD or Mania?

So I’ve been organizing my closet for much of the morning, something I normally don’t do. Part of it stems from my husband insisting that I get my junk cleaned out.

Part of it, though, either comes from OCD–the obsessive-compulsive desire to straighten and organize things–and part of it may or may not come from mania. Am I manic, or am I just normal me getting things cleaned up?

It’s hard for me to tell. The depressive episodes are usually pretty clear cut. I can tell when they’re coming on. The manic ones? Oftentimes I have no clue until I’m well into one. I guess that’s the trouble with manic episodes. The euphoria and energy that come along with that feel so good sometimes that you don’t realize something’s wrong.

Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes–note I say sometimes–it can be a good thing. I get things done that have been tossed to the side for months. But the “I can do anything” part of mania is rarely a good thing. Reckless driving, risky sexual behavior (thankfully I’m married and don’t need to worry about that part anymore), etc. For every good, there’s a bad.

Now that I’ve started typing this, I think that I’m just being OCD. Maybe not even that. Maybe *gasp* normal. I finally let the piles of crap get to the point where it bugged me enough to take action. I want to get things into their rightful places. It’s not a massive desire to go through every single thing I own (which is evident by my husband doing the folding of sheets and blankets right now, something I hate to do and would surely have done had I been manic). And I’m not really cleaning, per say. Just organizing. Sorting.

Sometimes I guess it takes a little outside introspection to figure things out.

Workin’ Hard for the Money

Well, I made it through a long, tiring work day. My back is sore, my legs are sore, my arms are sore … in fact, not too many places on me aren’t sore. Still, I made it through, and I got rare praise from the surgeon.

Tomorrow is an off day, and though it’s my anniversary (yay!–three years strong), my husband will be working until 1pm, giving me plenty of time to write. I also plan on writing some more tonight. If I keep it up, I’ll break 20k before the weekend. Pretty amazing, considering the first draft of Whispers of Death was not even 40k words long, and this book is in its infancy still.

I probably should exercise tomorrow, too. I have got to get back into exercising. Just because work gave me a workout today is no excuse to not get back into the swing of things exercise-wise. I have the day off, my husband will be occupied with work, and I can try one of the workout DVDs I have in the living room while he works from the bedroom. I get so self-conscious when anyone sees me working out, even my husband, so this should be interesting … he’d better not laugh. 😉

For Lack of a Bitter Pill to Take

Oopsie. I forgot when I refilled my Adderal that I was completely out & needed at least one for this morning. I should’ve picked it up last night when it was ready.

It’s  not ADD or ADHD that I take it for, though. I take it to stay awake during the day. Without it, I’m asleep off and on the whole day. Work should be fun.

I’m going to get another energy drink in a minute here…I’ve already had my usual one for the morning. (Yes, I know I’m at risk of my heart exploding or something equally bad happening to me by mixing the Adderal with an energy drink..most mornings I simply don’t care.)

Kids–and adults–take your pills as prescribed. Unless you have some crazy bad reaction or allergy to them, take them. There’s a reason the doctors prescribe things for you. Don’t think you have to man up and not take them.

Good Morning, My Old Nemesis, We Meet Again

Ah, there it is. The arthritis. I haven’t had morning aches/stiffness like this in quite some time. Guess I overdid it at work yesterday? That or I slept wrong. I even dreamed about having back pain. Sheesh.

I’m hoping the stiffness and soreness goes away after a little while. Sometimes it takes a half hour or more when I’ve got a bad day, so we’ll see. A little Tylenol might kick it in the nuts, too.

Some days the RA is under such good control that I forget I even have arthritis. I kinda get up, get going, and maybe have a twinge in my back here or there, maybe some aching in my fingers or something. So far today is nor a forgetting day, but then I only just woke up. It could easily get better once I’ve been up a while.

I guess that’s life. You have your problems and you deal with them, but sometimes they’re harder to deal with than others.

Mixed Feelings

Well, I’m not gaining any weight. Unfortunately, I’m not losing any, either.

I’ll admit I haven’t been eating right all the time. Or exercising…much. But I *have* been trying. Baby steps, right?

Or not. I feel like I’m depriving myself yet again when I have a salad instead of a sandwich. The smoothies are satisfying, but a pain to make (especially since I have to make them when my husband is off the clock because the blender is so loud). So much easier to grab an ice cream sandwich out of the freezer instead.

want to eat better. I really do. But I don’t. Not really. Does that make sense?

*Sigh* What I wouldn’t give for my 22-year-old self’s metabolism. That would be great. Too bad life happens. You get older, you aren’t able to eat the things you used to without consequences. When I was in my first year of college, I could take a box of Oreos, a tub of Cool Whip, and an hour or so just eating away. Fudge Rounds go well dipped in Cool Whip, too. And eating frosting straight out of the tub? Yep, I did that, too, with no weight gain. Ah, memories.

I don’t know what needs to change–inside my head or out–to get me to behave. Some major health crisis? I’ve already injured my knee six months ago after a two mile walk. That alone should have been enough to make me wise up and work out, but sadly it just got me more depressed that I couldn’t even walk to the grocery store and back without having a problem. Depression is not a great motivator.

I have a little more than two months until Phoenix Comicon to at least somewhat shape up. Can I do it? I’m doubting myself more each day, but maybe I can lose a few pounds. Maybe.

When your dreams betray you

Dreams are great, for the most part. You can meet celebrities, travel wherever you want to go, be another person … fuck, if you want to you can fly.

Then come those dreams that aren’t so great. I had one of those just now.

Before I write about that, a little backstory for you:

I’m bipolar. It’s under control for the most part, but it’s there. It might even run in the family; I’m no doctor, so I can’t say 100% for sure. Nature versus nurture and all that. But I have family was has been committed and I’m a direct descendant of a man who died in an institution. The cause of death? “Exhaustion in the progression of psychosis.” Now, I don’t think about this much and haven’t in a long time, but at times it does come to the forefront and it troubles me.

This morning it more than troubled me. It terrified me.

The dream started innocently enough. I was at work, and I was about to check the blood sugar of a patient who was getting very lightheaded and becoming incoherent.

Then the shit it the proverbial fan. I got in trouble for not using the right sterile technique (even though I ended up not doing the blood sugar check–the patient’s friend did) and then my boss started yelling at me for a multitude of things I had done wrong, including not decorating one of the rooms in the office properly (hey, it was a dream, okay?) and boring everyone with little factoids I kept talking about.

Then she had me committed.

It was terrifying. I could only see my husband for a short while, during visiting hours, and I couldn’t see my family at all. The kitchen fucked up my dinner–they didn’t tell me my food was ready and the macaroni and cheese got cold to the point where it was inedible. So there I was, all alone except for the other patients (who wouldn’t talk to me), and all I could think was I wasn’t allowed to see my husband and my family and how devastatingly sad I was that all of my coworkers thought the things I said were boring. It may not sound that bad, but remember, in dreams things can seem more real than reality.

That’s when I woke up sobbing uncontrollably, and my husband woke up for a moment to find out what was wrong.

I’m still crying a little bit, more than half an hour later.

This dream just hit me like a freight train. I haven’t thought about the familial mental health issues in what seems like forever, and work has been going pretty well. The last couple of days (when I was in charge because my boss was on vacation) went fine. So why did my subconscious betray me?

It’s hard to say. Sometimes dreams just pull stuff from the deepest part of your mind and bombard you with ghosts that you thought you had exorcised.

I’ve stopped crying now, but I’m not sure I’m ready to go back to sleep. I don’t want to end up on that little cot in the asylum again anytime soon.

Lazy Thursday Morning…for now

It’s morningtime before work, and usually I’m trying to be somewhat productive: writing, drawing, cosplay work, something. Today? Today I’m kind of just messing around on the Internet.

Sure, I have a news post to type up, but that won’t take me long. It’s just so nice to sit here, warm with my blankets and sweatshirt, and just be.

Do you ever take the time to just be? To forget that the world is spinning out of control and just be content in who you are and what you’re doing with your life? It’s surprisingly tough. We live in a society where not doing something is considered lazy, but it’s very important to take the time to focus on you every so often.

I’ve got some music to listen to, but otherwise I’m just existing. (Okay, so I’m typing up this post at the same time–hard to write about just existing while just existing.)

Of course, for some people just existing isn’t quite enough. Some people thrive on constant movement, constant activity, constant action. Me? I can handle it, but every once in a while I need to just be.

Take the time this weekend to just exist for a while. Zone out. Zen out. Whatever you have to do to connect with who you are. You’ll thank me for it later.

Here We Go Again

Just when I thought I was over all the illness I had a couple of weeks ago, yesterday my throat started hurting. More specifically, the right side of my throat and tongue. So swallowing is a bitch, yawning is a bitch, pretty much any movement of my mouth is a bitch.

I can’t afford to call out from work–literally can’t afford it, but figuratively as well. So, having no fever, I will go in today. But I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to get back to sleep. It’s now one o’clock in the morning and I’ve been up for about an hour, tossing and turning for longer than that. I just can’t sleep with this pain.

Tried sucking on ice, but that didn’t do much. Now my tongue feels numb and painful at the same time, if that’s even possible. Cough syrup with codeine makes no difference. Next up: analgesic cough drops. Of course, we all know how well those work.

I don’t know why I’m suddenly sick all the time. Christmas weekend, then two weeks later, then two or three weeks after that, and now again. Whatever this shit is, it can stop at any time. Really. Just stop. I’m not sure i can mentally handle being sick again. I was doing so well for so long! This is disappointing to say the least. I haven’t even taken my methotrexate in two weeks (it has an immunosuppressant effect). Can this shit seriously go away now?