Spent the last couple of nights scribbling, some false starts accompanied by plenty of swearing. This is the first of the orthographic drawings (call it revision 3.5) though I might make a ventral view as well.
styracosaurus_skull_orthographic_by_strick67_dd7i7tq-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTA4MCIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzFhZDY0OTRmLTkzOTgtNDlkNi1iNmZiLTU3ZjUwNjc0NjA2NFwvZGQ3aTd0cS1hM2U2NzA3MS05OTljLTQ1NGEtYWRjNC1kNDYyZTA2NTEyNjUuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTkwMCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.vUu9-e-iwT3RFU_0sV7jR1ltSZ4lVT3KVTQLtlcP9Dk816979
Some Nights Fun Mp3 Free Download Skull
tag_hash_104 🔥 https://bltlly.com/2yjZ3I 🔥
Some nights i find that i get this strange pressure in my head sort of at the back of my head or behind my nose - its quite strange - usually worse when im already wired and have a higher than usual heart beat. Could it be an overstimulation of the nervous system for standing that continues when i lie down and is a little too much or something??
"Headaches" are a POTS symptom--so what you are describing is probably related to nerve dysfunction of some sort. How is your blood pressure? Headaches can be a symptom of high blood pressure--but many people with high blood pressure don't have any symptoms of it.
I get a number of strange feelings in my head that are definitely NOT headaches. Not sure exactly what yours feel like but can tell you that a few days ago I had a pounding pulse that was above my left ear. I could easily count my heartrate it was so loud. When I touched that part of my head it felt like I had bruised it. I couldn't remember if that had happened to me before (probably had) but it was unsettling. Lying flat it was worse. Lying raised up and on my left side made it better. It lasted 2 days and then gone. I also get pressure at the base of my skull. Used to be very strong like someone was trying to push a brick from the inside of my skull outward. Florinef made this much much worse. Lying on my side helps for this problem.
These strange head tricks worry me some at that moment but I try to remind myself that I have had my head in the MRI machine quite often so I figure it is just POTS. If your problem continues or you are especially worried about it be sure to discuss with your doctor and if you haven't had your head examined ( in the best sense possible!) it is worth it to check that out so you know it is just another little gift from POTS.
some of those descriptions sound similar. Some nights i get a pulsing haert beat in my head which is very hard to sleep with. But i also get this weird sudden pressure sort of feeling - like a wave of dizziness or weirdness.
Sleep was the first thing to change. Progressively, over the course of about two weeks, I began struggling to drift off. As a 24-year-old man with a good supply of hash, this had never been a problem before. It was so odd. Seemingly out of the blue, I'd get into bed at night and not be able to shut off my brain. Thoughts would grow tendrils and loop onto other thoughts, tangling together like a big wall of ivy. Some nights, I'd pull the covers over my head, grab my face hard in my hands, and whisper, "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."
Eventually I would be able to get to sleep, but I'd wake up feeling peculiar, like I had forgotten to do or tell someone something. Hunger wasn't as aggressive as it usually was during this time, either. Normally I bolt downstairs to pour a heaping bowl of Frosted Flakes the second my eyes open. Instead, I woke each morning with a sick, creeping feeling in my gut. Still, I carried on as normal, thinking I'd just lay off the hash for a bit. That was probably it. I wasn't panicked.
Everything felt misty. I started to think that stuff was about to fall all the time-I'd look at a shelf of bottles and see one or two about to topple over, then look again and they'd be fine. I also kept thinking I could hear phones ringing, at all different pitches, even though there were no phones in the warehouse. Again, I wasn't panicking yet-I just told everyone who asked if I was OK that I wasn't sleeping well and thought it was all down to that. Sleep deprivation does weird things to people. A friend at work gave me some sleeping pills to try out, and they seemed to help for a bit, even though I'd wake up and feel like my head was full of wool. I stopped caring about going to bars or playing soccer on the weekends. All I wanted to do was sleep. Conversations were too much work.
I'd say it probably took two months from that initial sleeplessness for me to actually think there was something seriously wrong with me. The thought octopuses, as I ended up calling them, got weirder and weirder at night. I'd have the TV on and start being unable to identify what was noise coming from the screen and what was my own noise. It was frightening. One night, while watching Homeland (of all the shows), I had what I thought at the time was a panic attack. I knew what a panic attack was because one of the girls I used to go out with had them-she once had to lie down in the movie theater and do deep breathing to stop herself from retching. It was horrible to watch. That night in bed, though, I started trembling like it was freezing cold-only my skin was boiling. My legs shook against the bed sheets and there was this cacophony in my head, like a crowd of people were chatting beside my pillow. Nothing dramatic, just a steady, confusing noise. By the flickering light of the TV, I began to lose my mind.
I didn't sleep at all that night. I felt paralyzed. My bedroom door had become the very end of my world, like the paper set Jim Carrey rows into in the final scene of The Truman Show. The noise came and went in waves, but it felt like someone, or something, had replaced my body and mind. It wasn't me who was too scared to go to the bathroom to piss, so I decided to do it into an empty glass, spilling it all over the floor. It wasn't me who threw all my bed sheets off, only feeling comfortable completely naked against the bare mattress. It wasn't me who pressed the tip of a boxcutter into my heel to try and snap myself out of the despair. In that room, as the sun came up and my alarm went off for work, I thought, I need my mom.
Luckily, she was only a staircase away. I hadn't gotten myself together to move out of home yet-couldn't afford to, really. I called her from my phone because I thought that if I left my bedroom my insides were going to fall out. I genuinely believed crossing the threshold of my bedroom doorframe into the hallway would make my skull come apart and my bowels fall out of me like a bucket of pig swill. She answered the phone and said, "Oh for goodness sake, Daniel,* stop messing around," or something similar. I started crying, apparently in big, whooping sobs like a little boy, and heard her throwing her phone on the floor through the ceiling.
All the above is what's called a psychotic episode, and it's emblematic of acute schizophrenia-the illness I was diagnosed with. Psychosis is defined as someone having a loss of contact with reality. It can happen quickly, or-most commonly in those who develop schizophrenia-can be a slow burner and then suddenly snap. That's what happened to me. I was hospitalized for about a week and a half and started on a course of antipsychotic medication immediately. I don't remember much of this time, either, only that I felt sick a lot and found it hard to talk to anyone. Oh, and that the guy in the room next to me constantly shat himself on purpose. The smell was like the death I felt in my brain.
I remember the day I started to feel like I'd clicked back into reality, when the new chemicals I was taking found their footing in my body and didn't just make me want to cover my head in blankets and sleep. My brother came in to see me with my mom (they'd been coming in every day but mostly just talked to the doctors and nurses-I was incapable of conversation), and we watched three episodes of Breaking Bad in a row on the iPad in the visitor's lounge. My mom held it against her knees with one hand, while occasionally stroking the back of my neck with the other. I laughed at something Saul said and felt like I might be getting somewhere, like the curtains that had been drawn on who I once was were starting to flicker. I even ate a full meal that evening, and I'll now never take mashed potatoes for granted again.
Accepting it was the biggest thing, actually. Frustration is, as I've learned, too close to anxiety. On the days when I'd go out for a walk (my mom made me go every afternoon for at least an hour, leaving me on my own halfway through and giving me a task, like buying a pint of milk or some butter) and start thinking about everything, thoughts would flash into my brain: For fuck's sake, why can't you just be normal? I had to stop, inhale a few times and say to myself out loud, "I am normal. I just got sick and am having a break."
Within ten weeks I was back at work part-time. My boss couldn't have been more sympathetic. Apparently, when I went into the hospital he called my mom to let me know that the job was waiting for me as soon as I felt well enough, and that I could take it at my own pace. Initially this made me angry-I didn't want to go back as some sort of invalid. I was 25 (I celebrated my birthday in a medicated fog watching Friends reruns), not 60, and wanted to be thought of as the same guy when I returned. It took me a while to accept people's sympathy and care for what it was, not a slight on me as a person.
Going back to work was the best thing for me. Having a routine, people to talk to, and tangible tasks to complete was very medicinal. I had days when I'd wake up and feel frightened, when it would take me a couple of hours to shower and leave the house, but nobody questioned me. I called Gregg a few times from the warehouse-being in the place where my reality had started to slip was, on occasions, pretty odd-and he wasn't always available, but sometimes just leaving him a message was enough. Eventually, he said I didn't need to come and see him anymore-that he trusted me to work through the thoughts and techniques on my own. 0852c4b9a8
blue film youtube downloader free download
free download games for windows mobile