Tattoos!

I finally got my tattoos!! Couldn't be more pleased with them :)

 Music has always been a huge part of my life. My dad is a music teacher and I have played the french horn for the past eight years. Music has gotten me through a ton, and has always been there for me.

I get a lot of questions about this one. (Prior to having it as a tattoo, I wrote it on my wrist all the time.) Many people think it is a literal reminder to breathe. It is not. It reminds me of the struggle I have gone through with my anxiety disorder my whole life. It reminds me of the pain and struggle I have dealt with. It reminds me of the progress that I have made. It reminds me that I have been at absolute rock bottom, and come out the other side. It reminds me that there is a tomorrow. Honestly, I don't even know why "Breathe" is what I use to represent all of this to me, it just is.

A Post

I try to write everyday. So far I'm averaging about twice a week. But that's improvement, which is good enough for me. I haven't however been writing on here, for the simple reason that I have no idea what to post. Since I haven't posted yet this month, I suppose I will.

Life has been...good. It's really strange actually. I wake up in the mornings content, and I am happy more often than I am not. That may sound like nothing to some who read this, but to me it is everything. For the past few years, I have made it my goal to be happy more often than I am not. This is something that I have never been. Never. Until now. Honestly, it has been far too short of a time period for me to conclusively say that I have succeeded. But I couldn't care less. I am happy, and that is something I am going to celebrate.

I got a job at a pizza place near where I live. I've been working about 40-50 hours a week. I only have one day off a week so I'm generally pretty busy on those days. And the people I work with are cool for the most part. It's tough to say if my insomnia has improved or not. I think it has? I average about 8 hours of sleep a night, however, I don't manage to fall asleep until 4 or 5 am. I finally got my belly button piercing. That took entirely too long to happen. I should also be getting my tattoos within the next couple weeks. Speaking of a couple of weeks, it is now exactly two weeks until I leave for college. It's about time! Though, I will miss work. Overall, I really like the atmosphere there. And tips are paying for my tattoos, so the more tip money I make, the more of my tattoos I can get. I should be able to afford the three main ones I want, and then I will probably wait until next summer to get any others I want.

There really is no point to this post. It's just an update because I haven't written in a long time. I still question myself a lot, but less than I used to, which is nice. I'm getting better at making and following through with decisions that are best for me. Two days ago my anxiety hit really bad. To the point where I almost had an anxiety attack at work. There was no reason for it. People were fine. We weren't that busy. I was just extremely anxious and there was nothing I could do about it, but go to the job that involved the least human interaction and keep myself working until I could go home for the night. This concerns me because I haven't had that sort of anxiety, especially without cause for a while.But like I said, I have been happy more often than not. My anxiety levels overall have been low for me. This incident concerns me a little, but I don't expect it to be repeated soon

So yeah. Here is a post. It consists of my ramblings, but what's new? I'll try to post more often, we'll see what happens.

Decisions

I hardly ever make decisions based on what I think will be most healthy for me. No decision I make ever affects only me, so I always worry about the impact on others. This leaves me making decisions based on the well being of others and not myself. It's not good for me, and it's something I need to work on. Yesterday I made a big decision based solely on my own well being, and not that of others. I truly believe it was the healthiest decision for me.

...So why does it hurt so much?

The Parasite

It takes over your life. Encompassing your every thought. It is a parasite, leaching the life from you until there is nothing left. Small tasks become insurmountable, and nothing is ever good enough. Though not diagnosed until last year, my whole life has been shaped by my anxiety disorder.

I have always expected perfection from myself because anxiety decided that nothing else is good enough. And, of course, perfection has always been far from my grasp. I know that it is not possible, and yet it is not optional. The constant struggle between what I need to achieve and what I can  achieve has left me in a constant state of unease.

I am unable to eat at restaurants if the pictures are crooked. Everything must be symmetrical. If being symmetrical is not a possibility, then it has to be very purposely asymmetrical. My silverware has to be perfectly straight relative to the napkin, table, and each other. I obsessively pop my knuckles.When I get really stressed about something, I have to sit for like an hour shuffling cards because I find it relaxing. I obsessively make lists so that I can keep track of the twenty things I am worrying about at one time. It is exhausting, but without doing these things, I would not be able to make it through each day.

The symptoms don't stop with the little quirks that get me weird looks. The constant anxiety eats away at every part of my life, leaving a carcass behind. Half the time I am only able to fall asleep if I stay awake till four or later until I am so tired that I am physically incapable of staying awake. The other half of the time I sleep fourteen-plus hours a day. For a while, I used exercise as a healthy way to manage my stress. But my obsessive need to push myself has led to countless injuries that will never fully heal. My shoulders are constantly tensed. These muscles then pull on my neck and back, causing constant pain. It got to the point for a while where I had to go to the chiropractor three times a week so that I could have basic motor function. I have spent countless mornings and nights doubled over in pain because anxiety has started to eat away at the lining of my stomach. It was a long time before I realized that my anxiety was the reason I lived in constant pain. Knowing helps, but I still have to deal with the consequences of what the stress has done to my body.

Anxiety is a strange character. Sometimes it decides that I must keep pushing myself far past anyone else’s expectations or what I am even capable of achieving. It dictates that I must take three math classes in one year because I didn't know enough when I attended the summer program at Stanford.

Other times it decides that since perfection is not possible, the only possible solution is complete avoidance. Most of the time I don't even realize it is happening. I will just stop. Stuck in a haze. There are months of my life that are only marked in my memory by being jerked out of that haze and spending the next week on a maximum of two hours of sleep a night so that I can begin to fix everything I messed up while I was gone.
Last year, in a desperate attempt to fix a relationship that had been destroyed by the effects of my anxiety, I finally agreed to go to a therapist. It didn't take long for the therapist to diagnose me with GAD (generalized anxiety disorder). I take Sertraline and use calming techniques that my therapist taught me to manage my anxiety disorder.

I still have trouble with my anxiety, but I have learned a lot since I started getting help. I now know that I don’t have to be perfect at everything. That it is okay for me to be myself. I now know that people won’t resent me if I ask for help when I need it. I now know that anxiety is a leech that sucks the life out of me. I don’t need to let anxiety run my life anymore. I can be free of the parasite that has ruled my life for so long.

To take a shower

Have you ever actually considered the phrase "take a shower"? It makes no sense. A shower is not a tangible object that can be taken. Unless you mean take the whole shower unit and move it, but since that is obviously not what anyone is saying when they say they are going to "take a shower", it seems like a ridiculous phrase.

Are you shitting me?

I was browsing This is why I'm broke when I found this.

Please tell me that people aren't actually paying to have flecks of gold show up in their crap. How does anyone benefit from this? No one is going to see it....at least I hope they aren't. And what are you going to do after you have decorated your crap? You have two choices. You can either flush it, or you can try to get your gold back. One option leaves you out over $400, and one is....well absolutely disgusting. If you have the money to shell out to decorate your shit, please consider all the better uses for this money. Donate the money to your local food bank, or animal shelter.  Or really, anything else would be a better investment than this.

Catharsis

I wrote this about five months ago. Today, I found it and reread it. It was something I wrote for myself without ever having the intention of sharing it with others, but my anxiety has started attacking again and I am trying to fight it off. I think it might help me somehow to post this.

I've spent the majority of my life trying to made sure I look good to colleges. I guess my anxiety mixed with my love to learn in order to form a horrible concoction. I HAD to do good in school. I HAD to be perfect. And because I couldn't, I hated myself. Time and time again I pushed myself beyond my limits. I still do. It has become habit I suppose. I've gotten better at stopping though. Better at keeping up. I know my limits, and while I still choose to continue to push them, I know when to stop. 

The next portion of this I wrote a couple days later, but it is essentially a continuation of this.

I wish I could have kept my anxiety from affecting anyone else. I tried as best I could, but it seeped through every action. I kept myself at arms length from everyone because I was scared of what they would think. For some reason I didn't mind that they disliked the person I let them see. That wasn't the real me, so it didn't matter so much. As strange as it sounds, I didn't even let myself see the real me. I was afraid of what I might see if I did, so instead I floated in a lack-of-existenceness. I told myself I could be happy someday. After I did what I needed to do. After I got accepted to college. After I got accepted to grad school. After my PHD. In truth, that day never would have come. I would always have to do more. I still fear that drive. That need to accomplish. But now, I can put down my work to go hang out with friends. I'm not silent anymore because I'm not constantly questioning everything I have to say.


I continued on, but the rest of it kind of morphed into me trying to decide what I want to do with my life  so I won't continue it. 

There isn't really a point to this post. Mostly, I think when I finally manage to push that "publish" button, I will find some sort of catharsis in it. I feel bad for anyone who accidentally stumbles upon my blog and gets sucked into the inner workings of my mind. It is a scary place, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone one.  I hope someday this might be a blog that someone wants to read, but that comes secondary to the main goal of helping to heal myself.

Websites I Check Daily

If you don't check these websites daily, start. They are fantastic.

• The Bloggess- Seriously, if you haven't read her blog GO NOW. I found her blog during a period of depression, and it helped pull me out of it. She is hilarious.
• I waste so much time- Updated multiple times daily with awesomeness
• The Oatmeal- Not updated super often, but it's hilarious when it is
• Questionable Content- Not as sketchy as it sounds. This is a webcomic that is updated monday-friday. If you haven't been reading this, it will take you a while to catch up!
• Stumble Upon- If you don't have an account here, make one. You enter in your interests, press "stumble" and then it brings you to awesome websites.
• This is not that blog- Just go. I love her posts, and you will too.

And since this was a short post, I will show you a picture of one of my cats:

Her name is Minka.

She is silly and randomly sits like this.

She isn't the smartest....

She doesn't know how retract her claws so she gets caught on things a lot

She also stands in front of an slightly open door meowing until someone comes and opens it all the way.

But she is one of the sweetest cats I have ever had.

And I love her.

Long time no post

I will get better at this. Really, it's impressive that it's only been a month and a half since my last post. I thought it might be a good idea to put a post in front of the scary vampire ducky. I don't do well without sleep....

Anyways I am back... mostly because I am sick which has rendered me very very bored, and led to me writing several blog posts. The weird (to others) thing is that I have written all of these posts on my typewriter. 

I frequently get terrible writers block. The kind that keeps me from writing for years and crushes dreams of becoming a writer. But there is something about writing on a typewriter that is just better. I love the clicky sound it makes while typing each letter. I love the vvvrrry sound it makes when the typey thing goes back to the beginning of a line. (Yes, clicky, vvvrrrry, and typey thing are all technical terms) I love that all the letters are perfectly spaced apart from one another. Maybe it's just because it feeds my ocd, but it just looks so much more right when the letters are spaced the same as each other.

I'm sorry, this post doesn't really have a point. I feel kind of awful right now and I'm all not thinking clearly on medication right now. Someday this blog might be something someone might actually want to read...until then, bear with me.