February 26th, 2002


(no subject)

Now, I'm not one for omens, but I'm fairly certain that two major blackouts before I even leave the house is not a good sign.
(for clarification)
Major blackouts = room spins, vision goes black, limbs get heavy, I cannot stand.
Normal blackouts = room spins, edges of vision get fuzzy and black with only occasional total vision loss, I wobble a bit but can normally keep doing whatever I was doing.
Dizzy spells = room spins.

So yeah. Was seriously debating not coming to school today. Add in Cramps from Hell (I hate being a girl) and it became a very real possibility.
But being me, I came. Had a few dizzy spells but eventually just curled up on the band hall floor trying to ignore the crampage. Now I'm covered in Band-Hall-Floor-Crap on my left side. Meh. Took some Viox (strong stuff. Works on my headaches. Hoping it works on the cramps) and maybe this will go away. My mom keeps telling me to eat something. I shall make a big deal out of consuming some of my soup. Probably wont eat more than a bite or two, but there's no need for her to know that. I fear my grandmother's birthday, when we will be surrounded by food and I know she'll try to make me eat.
I ate fifteen calories worth of food yesterday. Due to my period, I will probably eat about the same today. Ugh. I hate this time of the month, I really do. Though this would explain why I've only lost half a pound in the last two days. Bloating and whatnot. Blech.

Cramps or no, I WILL be applying to Whole Foods today. Given the value of Tish's car (not too much) and the fact that hopefully she will pass drivers ed just fine and is a girl, the insurance should be okay. I'll be able to contribue about $130-$140 a month towards that. Might help a bit.
Plus, I will get a discount of sorts on food for Tish. I accidentally became a vegetarian of sorts... getting close to accidentally being a vegan. I don't know how this happened. It just did. And I seem to be dragging Tish with me, since I usually feed her. But she doesn't seem to mind, and it's healthy. So whatever works.

Stuff. And stuff.

Physical: Weak. Not really, just tired and crampy. And being crampy makes me feel weak. Does that make sense? Meh. I've been sleeping a lot. I'm hoping that when I start work that'll provide some exercise. Lately seems like the only movement I do is my sit ups and walking out to my car. I am such a slug.
Mental: There is no mental stimulation going on over here. Nothing. Blah. I'm beginning to worry that was few brain cells I possessed are going to atrophy beyond repair. I need intelligent conversation. But I'm never online. I crave talking to people about something not involving artwork (because apparently, since I do Makenzie's Locker and have multiple galleries online, that and that alone composes my soul and my personality. Well guess what. They seem to have gone. Hah. I have no soul, then. What have you to say to that? That's what I thought). But I don't know anything beyond artwork. So I have nothing to say. And the inane little four-line conversations consisting of "hi, how are you, no update? I see, sorry about that, okay, bye" make me want to rip out my modem line. So while I actually would not mind some form of communication, I still loathe the majority of people. And I sleep a lot lately. Sick or something. So no talkee for Jenni.
Emotional: Same as always. Worried. There's always an underlying tone of worry in my mind. I worry about everything and everyone; even and especially when I know damn well I can do nothing to help. And right now, I am scared. My creative drive has never disappeared so entirely before, and I am terrified that I will never regain it.
Artistic: It's not so much that the impulse to create and the desire to draw is gone as it is that I simply cannot reach it. I see my sketchbook (I had to get a new one, I ran out of pages in the last just before this hit) lying empty, I see my tablet - though that computer is currently inaccessible - and I see things that are so familiar and yet so foreign to me now. I pick up a pencil and it's as though I don't know what to do with it. I want to put the image in my head on the paper and it's not working. I've tried surrounding myself with the things that used to inspire me - visited so many artist's sites (many I can recall from memory despite long and convoluted URLs), so many clothing sites... nothing. I've tried just ignoring it and 'letting it happen' when it will. I didn't draw. And while I felt uncomfortable and out of place because I knew something very large was missing and things were not as they should be, I did not miss it. That worried me more than the lack of drawing. I didn't even miss it. I don't miss my soul. I don't.
But I do because this is not right; this is not what I am accustomed to being.
People used to ask me: "How can you go around with all those stories and all those characters in your head?"
I responded: "How can you not?"
Well, now I know.
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