Some useless contemplation

I seem to have settled into the mess that is my spare room and my life. I've taken a break from many projects and plans because of a need to reorganize, and when life's gotten in the way of that reorganization, I've just let it all lie, let the dust settle, let the soft couch take my tired body and cradle it as I watch old episodes of Law and Order. I don't know if it's laziness or a forced acceptance of ennui.

My brain is still silently buzzing, and I still manage to get out my creative outbursts with short visits to my journal, cutouts and glue stick in hand... but I'm sure a vast wave is slowly building, coming closer and closer to the shore, ready to crash down upon all the innocent and unsuspecting sunbathers, maybe taking a few annoying children on their floaty rafts and giving them a satisfying faceplant in the harsh sand.....

What I meant to say was that I'm sure such little endeavors will do little to abate the inevitable overflowing of frustrated energy that always comes after a long period of nothingness. One creates, one makes, one experiences, throwing all into a feeling, an experience, an existence of doing. Eventually that flame burns out, having sucked up all the fuel and oxygen and bringing itself to a gasping, suffocating end. But there's always a little something that needs time to build up again, think new ideas and look at new viewpoints. That little something will slowly but definitely grow into the next avalanche of creation. And the cycle continues.

I've worried for some time that I've stretched myself too thin, branching out into so many different mediums of expression, but I think that when I do feel that mental ache from too many arms going in too many directions, thin and fragile like a spider's legs, these periods of calm, these eyes in the massive storm of my inspirational drive, are what help "bulk up" those thin projections. My connection to these different ideas and forms of expression just gets stronger, waiting to flex itself at the next incoming wave.

This is a bunch of useless, but enlightening contemplation.

Still mostly incommunicado

Finals haven't even started and I'm studying my butt off. Or rather, I'd like to think I am. But I needed a bit of a break, so I thought I'd discuss the State of Things.

I've started on a weight-loss shake called NutriMed 420. It's doctor prescribed, and my progress will be closely followed by medical staff to make sure I'm not dying or my body isn't eating into important tissue rather than ass-fat. I officially began yesterday, and already hamburgers are taunting my brain with their delicious existence.

I'm not allowed any food for at least the first six weeks, which may possibly turn into two months as the amount of weight I need to lose is close to 100 pounds. I seem to be incredibly dense and my thighs have managed to store the weight of a small annoying child.

Since this is the first week, I'm calling it Hell Week because of the intense experience I'll be having while my body switches into fat-eating mode. Dizziness, intense fatigue and body weakness, headaches, and irritability are on the agenda and this also happens to be the week right before finals (which are next Monday and Tuesday) so I'll be feeling all of the above anyways, but now for more than one reason.

My spare room also happens to be completely filthy, so there's no crafting on the horizon until I get my butt in gear and clean, which will be nearly impossible for a while. Because I'm so weak, I long to work on something small and quiet, like perhaps sewing up some of the beautiful scraps I got from Jude (below) but with stuff strewn everywhere, it's a bit hard... My mind gets as scattered as the stuff on the floor when I don't have a clean house.

I suppose I should stop whining. My final class of the semester is in 30 minutes and I need to run. Perhaps when I get back, I shall do a bit of studying, get started on cleaning my horrible spare room, and try to (for once) sit down and think with a bit of something crafty in my hands.



I believe this makes one of the best presents I've ever received.

Almost back on track

Two doctor appointments this week, and two great bits of news.

I had my 3 month follow-up colposcopy after my scary pre-cervical-cancer ordeal, and I was told I have a "million dollar vagina". Please tell me someone else finds this as hilarious as Tanya and I do. We spent all morning quoting it, telling her mom, my husband, and each other about the great worth of my lady bits.

I also saw my family doc, and I do believe I shall be getting my energy back sometime very soon. I seem to have a messed up thyroid level. I suspected it when I started steadily gaining weight even though my eating habits hadn't changed and I had in fact been getting more exercise from trudging all over campus. I've also been sleeping twelve, even fourteen hours a night, and have been utterly exhausted during the day. Doctor finally took one look at the weight gain and the tiredness, and heard I was taking A&P this summer, and said "Let's check you and get you on some drugs!"

Anyways, I start on said drugs today. And this is the second-to-last week of school. I'm so relieved I'll be able to get a breather, and will actually be able to recover from the tiredness, as opposed to just staving it off for another few days.

It's such a relieving feeling to know that the reason I've been struggling is something that wasn't my fault. I've had such a self-defeating thought that the real reason I've been exhausted is because I've been pushing myself too hard just to keep up with the "average" student. I was worried I didn't have the ability to learn, which I know is a ridiculous thought.

But to hear that my body is just sabotaging itself with no input from my conscious mind, I'm just so glad. I heard about the high thyroid today, and Tanya and I cheered and high-fived. It was a moment of "Yay! An answer! A relieving change! And an explanation." I feel so much more confident too, now that I know I haven't just been incredibly lazy. Maybe now I'll have the energy to come home and actually do the laundry, put in a load of dishes, and then just relax in my room and create and experiment with whatever I feel like. I won't feel like a failure.

I really do find it strange that just the loss of a little bit of energy and some added emotional (and physical) weight would seep into every other part of my life, infecting my confidence, my drive, my mental capacity to learn, my desire to be a good wife, student, and friend. It's strange, but at least fixing the origin of the problem will help with everything else.

Listen to me ramble on... Not much else to do at this point, I suppose, at least not today. I'll be trying to clean up the spare room, get some projects either organized or stored away in preparation of the upcoming surge of creative juices that I know will inevitably come. I'll also sit down and breathe and be thankful.

Macroverse

I'm feeling remarkably better. I treated myself to a facial today and it was ever so lovely...

Psychology test tomorrow (and yes, I know I really need to be in bed right now...) and I always feel better after tests because I always seem to ace them no matter how much I feel that I'm slacking, and then I can breathe a temporary sigh of relief.

I was slightly miffed over the weekend when I discovered that someone had sabotaged one of my Unknowns. The cover had been taken off my dish and it was contaminated by whatever random bacteria was floating in the air. I had to regrow a plate, but I checked things today and they're coming along fine. I already figured out one of the two organisms. The Gram negative has yet to reveal itself to me.

I also sold some stuff at a garage sale that Tanya's mom was holding, and I made $80, which I hadn't expected. I plan on using the extra money to finally buy some needle-felting materials. I also got a sunburn at that garage sale because my pesky translucent skin is very.... irritable.

Here is a lovely picture of a planet. Or is it... You tell me.

Break from non reality

I really hate that I'm about to start this off with a huge bunch of text, and no pictures. I feel so guilty, because I haven't worked on anything other than some personal journaling and therefore have nothing to share. This week, as usual, has been like many other weeks over the last month or so. The stress of this semester and the intense pressure I feel (and I most likely put on myself) has led to a rather interesting point. I am beginning to feel true apathy. And I can't sleep. Or I sleep too much. Time to change up the brain drug dosage for the first time in 3 years.

These times are the hardest on me, because I don't like messing with constants in my life. I fear induced change more than natural change over time. That is, at least subconsciously, I'd rather let things stay in their current kindof-okay state, rather than risk bringing about the next personal apocalypse by screwing around.

But yet, I'll be taking two summer semester classes, Anatomy and Physiology I & II, and those are intense classes on a normal basis, let alone adding in the compact schedule of summer, and I hate the feeling I've had every day lately where I walk into my sewing room, stare at all the in-progress projects scattered throughout the room, and then just walk out again. My mind speaks gently, noninvasively, almost timidly about the things I want to accomplish that day, that week, that month, and it's oh so easy to ignore. My fear and anxiety kick in and it's much harder to convince myself to just create for creation's sake.

I suppose the reason why I'm sharing this is because of the Sufferings part of the title of my blog and what it represents. I've always been crafty, creative, good with my hands and able to think of new ideas, but I so often have lacked the self confidence to create without crippling inhibition. I've tried to change that over the last year or more, especially since I met my husband Dane, a kind and wonderful man who makes me feel so much more worthy and beautiful than I ever have on my own, and who supports me absolutely, even if he doesn't understand my need to collect fabric obsessively, sketch out the most random and absurd ideas, or make strange little things like robot paper dolls.

Since Dane has uplifted me so much, I've been on something akin to a personal crusade to alleviate some of the pressure I put on myself and to not only develop my own style of art, but let it form fluidly, and accept what it naturally becomes. Not a small feat for someone with as much anxiety and need for perfection as I have. So that's pretty much the suffering part of my "art" or whatever you want to call this constant nudging urge to create. I've been suffering under my own restrictions, worries, high standards, and I've also been struggling to shake off these feelings, with varying amounts of failure or success. I aspire to be better.

And over the last month, it's been so much harder than ever before because school has been sucking out my soul. It's absolutely worth it, with my test grades accurately reflecting the obsessive amount of time I spend on my schoolwork, but it's also intensely exhausting, and seems to have such a blanketing feeling. It covers everything else with a layer of guilt if I do anything other than live, speak, and breathe college.

So, bear with me please. I'm going to be getting my energy back as soon as I can. Doctors have to be called, dosages have to be fiddled with, but for a much quicker start to fix me up, I think I'll spend this weekend shedding some extra weight and guilt, and taking some extra time to start to reacquaint myself with the person who I have been, and continue to want to be.