Another year has come and gone. It seems like it was only yesterday that 2010 was fresh and new, but now it is time to say goodbye. My (ever so slight) OCD is going a little crazy thinking about this upcoming year. I have something against odd numbers. Don't ask me to explain it to you because there is no reasonable explanation for it... they just make me uncomfortable... and for some reason 2011 just does not sit right with me. Yes, yes I do realize that my birthday is an 11, but that's different (apparently). So despite my disdain for the number, I'm still excited to see what it has to bring.
2010 has brought the usual ups and downs. Good times and bad, but overall it was a decent year. With time comes knowledge and 2010 was no exception. This year I learned even more about people and myself. This may have been the first time in a long time where I've been okay with seeking solitude, which I have talked about in past entries. I'm also coming to accept friends for who they are (also discussed in past entries). I'm learning how to take life as it comes.
However, I have had some set backs. I feel like my anxiety control took a little bit of a dive. Luckily, I have discovered a trigger (caffeine) so it's a little easier to psych myself out of it knowing the cause. And unfortunately, this year I have developed a very, verrryyy huge addiction to caffeine. I'm hoping my body will become accustomed to it and will stop making me anxious because I have no plans to stop drinking coffee in the near future. So listen body... deal with it. But besides the caffeine, I've noticed my anxiety popping up in random places again, my OCD being one of the things that is starting to return.
Like I've discussed before, I think people are going to die all the time, so the OCD comes into play during those times. I'll have to turn something a certain way, make sure something is turned off, do a certain thing, or say something that I've thought or else someone is certainly going to die. I had it under control for a little while, but for some reason it's starting to come back in full force.
The other not-so-positive thing I've discovered, well... come to accept is probably a better way to phrase this, is that I still have absolutely no self esteem. This is common for most of us I feel, but I know my lack of self esteem bothers some people. I think last year I had vowed to try to like myself. I had even started doing "positive thought of the day" in my blog, but those stopped. For a while I would try to think one nice thing about myself and share it with one of the people that I aggravate with my negative self image, but that also stopped. I feel too conceited when I think nice things about me, so I usually follow it up with something negative just to balance it out. That's just how I've always been. I'm just a glass half empty kind of girl...
BUT! A positive thing that I have done for myself this year was get to my goal weight... and even below that. I've discovered a new love of exercise... particularly the love of bike riding. That's what helped me during the summer. I'm not a huge fan of gyms, but unfortunately they are necessary for me to stay at the weight I'm at. During the end of the summer I lost the rest of the weight I needed and now I'm back down to what I weighed in high school. I'm very proud of myself, and I hope that isn't conceited, but I worked really hard to get there... I even gave up juice and soda (for the most part, I still have one every so often). I've fluctuated a bit during the holidays (I had a 3 day cookie binge... don't judge me), but I'm still happy for the most part.
So for next year, I have some goals to work towards. I refuse to make resolutions because I think they are stupid and easily given up on. Goals are more open. This year I'm going to travel. I'm also putting some very, very serious thought into a month long European adventure. That may take longer then a year to plan, but my goal is to at least work towards that and set a serious date. I need to see Europe. It calls to me, and any one of my friends who would like to seriously work towards this with me are more than welcome. It's easier to stay motivated if you have someone who wants it to happen just as badly as you do.
I'm also going to work on conquering some more fears. My friend wants me to sky dive with her and while I'm absolutely terrified I'm putting some serious thought into it. My excuse has been that I've just got over my fear of flying, so it may take me a bit to work up the courage to jump OUT of a plane. That will for sure be the most insane thing I've ever done and I think I will end up regretting it if I don't do it. So we will see...
I'm also going to work on liking myself. Gaining self esteem has been a pretty long term goal, but I've never actually made any progress. My band has joked with me that I need to get an ego, and while I don't want an ego, adding a little bit of egotistical thoughts to my brain may help me out a little. I'm still working on getting over being shy. My band was a HUGE push to get over that, but deep down I'm still the same awkward little girl. This too may take longer than a year, but it's something that I will be working on in 2011.
So goodbye 2010. Thank you for the lessons. I look forward to reminiscing about you. As for you 2011, I am looking forward to all the new things you will be teaching me... I'm ready for you.
30 December, 2010
22 December, 2010
Please Forgive Me.
I remember where I was when the phone rang. Depression had rendered me useless and I sat plopped in the center of the couch, wrapped in my favorite blanket, staring idly at the TV. I can't remember what was on, but I'm sure it was nothing good. I had been waiting for this phone call... Dreading it is probably more accurate of a word, but I knew it was coming. I had been warned for months now to expect it, so when it rang and my mothers name popped up on the screen, I knew. Before answering my heart had already sank, the tears eagerly got in line behind my eyes waiting for their cue to fall, and with one breath, one syllable from my mothers lips, no other words were necessary. I knew what had happened. I knew she was gone. A feeling that I had never quite felt before filled my entire body. An overwhelming mixture of sadness and helplessness. "One more day..." kept repeating over and over in my mind which only added to the the helplessness, the uselessness. There were no more days, not now. I tried to recall what the last things I had said to her were. I wondered if she had even known I was there during my last visit. I silently spoke to her through the atmosphere whispering over and over again that I loved her and missed her already, but I was happy she was no longer in pain. After taking a second to cry uncontrollably, I gathered myself and called my then boyfriend. He too knew this was coming and only needed a, "You need to come home now," in order to know what had happened. He came home right away and I collapsed into his arms and cried. I felt like the tears would never stop. I suddenly understood that it was actually possible to cry for days because I had no intention of stopping. This was the day I lost my grandmother. The day that we had escaped a few times before and I had childishly hoped would never come.
My maternal grandmother, my Nana, was someone I was very close to, much like the rest of my mom's side of the family. We spent every holiday with her and would frequently visit. She was a huge part of my childhood and played babysitter (with the help of my aunt of course) every time my parents would go away. She was diagnosed with emphysema when she was in her 60's so I was accustomed to seeing her with inhalers, and later on in life with oxygen, but it was normal. Since she had a lung disease, when she got sick, she really got sick. I remember a few times when I was younger that my mom and aunt had to go down to Connecticut, where she was living at the time, to take care of her. I don't think they ever tried to insinuate the severity of those times, but I always picked up on it... Though she always ended up pulling through. She ended up moving closer to my mom and aunt which was nice for my sister and I because that meant we were able to see her more often. She attended every one of my functions she could and we would go to visit her on a regular basis. I think my favorite thing to do with her was to go to plays. I was lucky enough to see a few of them with her, JUST her. Those were my favorite times. I loved having all her attention. I loved her, and still do, with just about every fiber of my being.
But there is one thing that still plagues my brain, still haunts me to this day, and still pains me to think about or say. I've thought about this entry for years now and every time I go to write it I would delete everything because it's painful for me to admit... but here it is:
My Nana died on December 17, 2006. I was 20 and still very much in my own selfish world. I think I was about 19 when my mother sat me down to tell me that I was upsetting her. I was a little taken back by it. How could I be hurting her? I guess my cousin would call her on a pretty regular basis, something my sister and I did not do. My cousin lived in New Jersey and went to school in Pennsylvania so she did not get to see her as often as Ali and I did, so to make up for it she would call. I guess my grandmother started wondering why my sister and I didn't do the same thing. I started getting defensive. I used the excuse of "Well (my cousin) doesn't see her as often as we do, that's why she calls!" and "I'm really busy and have to work all the time!" My mother agreed, but suggested that we maybe start emailing her. I ended up talking to my sister about it and we decided that we would go and have lunch with her on a regular basis. We knew she would like that and we thought it was a great plan. But for some reason or another, we never got around to it. And when my grandmother got sick in October of 2006 THAT was the first thing to cross my mind. Why didn't we go? We should have gone. Maybe it was the child in me, I foolishly thought that I would have more time, but this was it. She would not pull through this time.
I tried to visit as often as I could during her final months. That was quite possibly the hardest thing I have EVER had to do in my entire life. Watching someone dying is the most overwhelming thing to be a part of. I would hold her hand, tell her I loved her, but would have to frequently leave the room when it was too much to take. I would get out of earshot and cry. I still don't know if she knew I was there. I'm not sure she knew who I was if she did know someone was there, but I would do it all again if I had to.
My biggest fear is that she didn't know how much she meant to me. Just because I didn't call as often as I should did not EVER mean that I didn't love her. I don't think I showed her how much she meant to me. I can't believe how selfish I was, how completely wrapped up in myself I was, that I couldn't just take a few fucking weekends to go have lunch with her. I feel like the biggest, most worthless piece of shit for not doing it. I regret it as much as someone could ever regret something, and the fact that I can never take it back eats away at my brain.
I still talk to her as though somehow she can hear me, and I've told her through that way that I am sorry. I still tell her I love her when I feel the need. When I do something that I think she would be proud of I tell her that I wish she was there to see. I have no idea what the hell happens when you die, but I hope that if she can hear me, she's listening... Nana, I love you, I miss you and I'm so, so sorry for being selfish. Please forgive me.
My maternal grandmother, my Nana, was someone I was very close to, much like the rest of my mom's side of the family. We spent every holiday with her and would frequently visit. She was a huge part of my childhood and played babysitter (with the help of my aunt of course) every time my parents would go away. She was diagnosed with emphysema when she was in her 60's so I was accustomed to seeing her with inhalers, and later on in life with oxygen, but it was normal. Since she had a lung disease, when she got sick, she really got sick. I remember a few times when I was younger that my mom and aunt had to go down to Connecticut, where she was living at the time, to take care of her. I don't think they ever tried to insinuate the severity of those times, but I always picked up on it... Though she always ended up pulling through. She ended up moving closer to my mom and aunt which was nice for my sister and I because that meant we were able to see her more often. She attended every one of my functions she could and we would go to visit her on a regular basis. I think my favorite thing to do with her was to go to plays. I was lucky enough to see a few of them with her, JUST her. Those were my favorite times. I loved having all her attention. I loved her, and still do, with just about every fiber of my being.
But there is one thing that still plagues my brain, still haunts me to this day, and still pains me to think about or say. I've thought about this entry for years now and every time I go to write it I would delete everything because it's painful for me to admit... but here it is:
My Nana died on December 17, 2006. I was 20 and still very much in my own selfish world. I think I was about 19 when my mother sat me down to tell me that I was upsetting her. I was a little taken back by it. How could I be hurting her? I guess my cousin would call her on a pretty regular basis, something my sister and I did not do. My cousin lived in New Jersey and went to school in Pennsylvania so she did not get to see her as often as Ali and I did, so to make up for it she would call. I guess my grandmother started wondering why my sister and I didn't do the same thing. I started getting defensive. I used the excuse of "Well (my cousin) doesn't see her as often as we do, that's why she calls!" and "I'm really busy and have to work all the time!" My mother agreed, but suggested that we maybe start emailing her. I ended up talking to my sister about it and we decided that we would go and have lunch with her on a regular basis. We knew she would like that and we thought it was a great plan. But for some reason or another, we never got around to it. And when my grandmother got sick in October of 2006 THAT was the first thing to cross my mind. Why didn't we go? We should have gone. Maybe it was the child in me, I foolishly thought that I would have more time, but this was it. She would not pull through this time.
I tried to visit as often as I could during her final months. That was quite possibly the hardest thing I have EVER had to do in my entire life. Watching someone dying is the most overwhelming thing to be a part of. I would hold her hand, tell her I loved her, but would have to frequently leave the room when it was too much to take. I would get out of earshot and cry. I still don't know if she knew I was there. I'm not sure she knew who I was if she did know someone was there, but I would do it all again if I had to.
My biggest fear is that she didn't know how much she meant to me. Just because I didn't call as often as I should did not EVER mean that I didn't love her. I don't think I showed her how much she meant to me. I can't believe how selfish I was, how completely wrapped up in myself I was, that I couldn't just take a few fucking weekends to go have lunch with her. I feel like the biggest, most worthless piece of shit for not doing it. I regret it as much as someone could ever regret something, and the fact that I can never take it back eats away at my brain.
I still talk to her as though somehow she can hear me, and I've told her through that way that I am sorry. I still tell her I love her when I feel the need. When I do something that I think she would be proud of I tell her that I wish she was there to see. I have no idea what the hell happens when you die, but I hope that if she can hear me, she's listening... Nana, I love you, I miss you and I'm so, so sorry for being selfish. Please forgive me.
09 December, 2010
Numbers
So I too fell victim to the numbers game on Facebook, but instead of littering everyone's news feed with my responses I decided to just combine them into one blog post. I like this game because it gives you a chance to see how people really feel about you. Though I know not everyone will be 100% truthful (because no one ever is), but for the following numbers... I vow to only speak the truth.
42: I met you the day Corey and I met. At first I was a little intimidated by you. You are loud and truthful, and I can be pretty shy in new situations. Though the more I get to know you the more I like you for who you are. You're not fake. You lay out your emotions and feelings on the table and I find that to be a very admirable quality. Even though we aren't particularly close, I do tend to worry about you... especially during those dark times you were going through (I assume you know what I'm talking about)... and you scare me a little when you've had a bit too much to drink. But I honestly think you deserve nothing but happiness in your life, and I can only hope you are happy now. :)
2: My earliest memory of you is from softball... and the next most prominent memory after that would be ski club in High School. I can't tell you how happy I was that you were there. None of my other friends joined so you were the only person I felt I could talk to. You've always been such a nice, fun, outgoing individual and I've always enjoyed your company. I honestly can't remember the last time we have seen each other, I think it may have been when I went to Petsmart and you were working at Banfield... Either way, it's been too long... and maybe someday we can catch up :)
1989: You are my best friend. You are the only one that I feel can truly understand me. You're the only one who has seen ALL of my flaws, yet you continue to want to be around me. And you're the only one that I know wont sugarcoat the truth... you don't just tell me what I want to hear and I value your opinion over just about everyone else. I'm glad that we have the relationship we do and I would never pass it up for anything in the world. I will always be here for you, whether you want me to or not.
1138: Back in high school I thought you hated me so I never really tried to get to know you. I think it was at Jackie's party YEARS ago when we first started talking, and I'm glad we did. I've learned so, so much about politics from you. I love getting your opinion on everything that's going on. Though you do have a little bit of trouble keeping out of debates (haha!)... Just remember to pick and choose your battles (even though I know, sometimes it's very hard NOT to say something). You are incredibly smart, too smart for your current workplace ;) I'm extremely happy to hear about your plans to return to school... and even if it doesn't happen now I know somewhere down the line it will. You are destined for great things... just make sure you keep the motivation. You are too smart to let that go to waste.
1985: You've helped me in so many ways over the past almost 3 years. We fell out of contact for a while there, but it was like no time had passed at all once we started talking again. I appreciate every heart to heart and every piece of advice. You helped me through some very confusing and hard times and I can never thank you enough. You are one of my most beautiful friends, inside and out! Not to mention, you being one of my favorite party buddies :) You are such a strong, independent, outgoing woman and I look up to you so much for that!
8675309: You. You are probably the only other person that almost knows me as well as 1989. I've known you for 10 years and during that time we have grown up so much. You make me worry sometimes, and I really would like to see you HAPPY (not this fake happy bullshit you've got going on). You have so much potential, and I don't want to see you waste it. You're my favorite shopping buddy, someone I feel I can always talk to and get sound advice from... You're my other best friend, and I'm glad we went through everything we did. I feel like I've learned a lot from you, and you have probably influenced my life the most. I thank you so much for always being there, for being so incredibly supportive, and for being such a good friend.
If you didn't give me a number, but would like to know my opinion of you, just message me a number and I'll do one.
42: I met you the day Corey and I met. At first I was a little intimidated by you. You are loud and truthful, and I can be pretty shy in new situations. Though the more I get to know you the more I like you for who you are. You're not fake. You lay out your emotions and feelings on the table and I find that to be a very admirable quality. Even though we aren't particularly close, I do tend to worry about you... especially during those dark times you were going through (I assume you know what I'm talking about)... and you scare me a little when you've had a bit too much to drink. But I honestly think you deserve nothing but happiness in your life, and I can only hope you are happy now. :)
2: My earliest memory of you is from softball... and the next most prominent memory after that would be ski club in High School. I can't tell you how happy I was that you were there. None of my other friends joined so you were the only person I felt I could talk to. You've always been such a nice, fun, outgoing individual and I've always enjoyed your company. I honestly can't remember the last time we have seen each other, I think it may have been when I went to Petsmart and you were working at Banfield... Either way, it's been too long... and maybe someday we can catch up :)
1989: You are my best friend. You are the only one that I feel can truly understand me. You're the only one who has seen ALL of my flaws, yet you continue to want to be around me. And you're the only one that I know wont sugarcoat the truth... you don't just tell me what I want to hear and I value your opinion over just about everyone else. I'm glad that we have the relationship we do and I would never pass it up for anything in the world. I will always be here for you, whether you want me to or not.
1138: Back in high school I thought you hated me so I never really tried to get to know you. I think it was at Jackie's party YEARS ago when we first started talking, and I'm glad we did. I've learned so, so much about politics from you. I love getting your opinion on everything that's going on. Though you do have a little bit of trouble keeping out of debates (haha!)... Just remember to pick and choose your battles (even though I know, sometimes it's very hard NOT to say something). You are incredibly smart, too smart for your current workplace ;) I'm extremely happy to hear about your plans to return to school... and even if it doesn't happen now I know somewhere down the line it will. You are destined for great things... just make sure you keep the motivation. You are too smart to let that go to waste.
1985: You've helped me in so many ways over the past almost 3 years. We fell out of contact for a while there, but it was like no time had passed at all once we started talking again. I appreciate every heart to heart and every piece of advice. You helped me through some very confusing and hard times and I can never thank you enough. You are one of my most beautiful friends, inside and out! Not to mention, you being one of my favorite party buddies :) You are such a strong, independent, outgoing woman and I look up to you so much for that!
8675309: You. You are probably the only other person that almost knows me as well as 1989. I've known you for 10 years and during that time we have grown up so much. You make me worry sometimes, and I really would like to see you HAPPY (not this fake happy bullshit you've got going on). You have so much potential, and I don't want to see you waste it. You're my favorite shopping buddy, someone I feel I can always talk to and get sound advice from... You're my other best friend, and I'm glad we went through everything we did. I feel like I've learned a lot from you, and you have probably influenced my life the most. I thank you so much for always being there, for being so incredibly supportive, and for being such a good friend.
If you didn't give me a number, but would like to know my opinion of you, just message me a number and I'll do one.
07 December, 2010
They call me... Ray of Sunshine
This past Saturday I was running late for a show in Plaistow. Corey and I had a little miscommunication issue so we left about a half hour behind schedule. He, his sister and I were traveling down route 111 in Hudson when, seemingly out of nowhere, break lights were all we could see. Naturally my first instinct was to get annoyed, as I usually am in traffic, but as we came closer to the cause of all the congestion my mood changed. At first we thought it was a car accident, but the only cars we could see were ones that had pulled over to help. Then we thought maybe it was a motorcycle accident, but a few seconds after that was suggested we discovered that it was a pedestrian who had been hit. I was driving so I only got a quick glimpse of him, but that was enough. Corey was in the passenger side and got the "best" look at what happened. After we drove past he just looked forward and said, "Oh god... he's dead. He's definitely dead." Which made all of us in the car feel a little off, but most of all Corey. I tried to be positive about the situation and hoped that he would be okay, but Monday we all discovered that he had not made it. (See this article for more information)
That morbid scene then became an in depth discussion between the three of us. Corey had been the most affected. He claimed it made him question his own mortality and made him realize that death can come at any time. I can't fully speak for his sister, but I can say that it didn't affect me as much. I told him that I must be desensitized by death, to which he said that most of society is. Obviously, the scene made me think. Obviously, it made me sad. But no, it did not make me as upset as it made Corey. This may be because death is something I think about on a constant basis.
This, with the exception of funerals, was the first time I've seen death "in person." I've watched people dying (but never actually die). I've always had a morbid fascination with death, ghosts and haunted places. And on top of it all, the number one symptom of my lifelong anxiety disorder is my overwhelming fear of death.
Ever since I was a little girl I've had issues with leaving people. Still to this day I can't help but have a minor freak out every single time I say goodbye to those I care about. For some reason, my brain likes to make me think "they're going to die" every... single... time someone walks out the door. I've been dealing with this for almost 25 years now, so I've learned little ways to calm myself down. My earliest memory of this was when I was between 3 and 5 years old. I remember staring out the window at my parents as they left to celebrate their anniversary. I remember the panic start to fill my body. Then, and for years after that, my family just called me a "worrier." It was somewhat of a joke, but it wasn't until maybe high school that I realized it was anxiety. I used to sit up in the middle of the night for hours having panic attack after panic attack thinking to myself that something was wrong... that my parents were going to die. Sometimes it was so severe that I had to go into my parents room to check on them. I would wake up my mom and use the "I had a bad dream" excuse just to put my mind at ease... just to know she was still alive.
Now, I know exactly what those feeling are. I know how to try and talk myself out of them, but they are still there constantly nagging me. I have no idea where this irrational fear of death came from. And I don't fully understand how can I be simultaneously fascinated and afraid of it. I know it's just a natural part of life. It's something we all have to deal with, and there is really no way of stopping it from coming. I've experienced a good amount of death in my time. I've been to kind of a ridiculous amount of funerals for someone so young, but still I fear it. I still think about people dying all of the time.... so I think that's why when I was faced with the death of the man on the side of the road I could somewhat keep the same state of mind. Again, it's not that I wasn't sad for him (because I am, very much so), I just wasn't as affected as Corey. Sometimes I think he thinks he's invincible, so maybe the man on the side of the road served as a bit of a reminder to him that he should be a little careful. But maybe I should adopt a little bit of this invincible thinking so I don't slowly drive myself insane...
That morbid scene then became an in depth discussion between the three of us. Corey had been the most affected. He claimed it made him question his own mortality and made him realize that death can come at any time. I can't fully speak for his sister, but I can say that it didn't affect me as much. I told him that I must be desensitized by death, to which he said that most of society is. Obviously, the scene made me think. Obviously, it made me sad. But no, it did not make me as upset as it made Corey. This may be because death is something I think about on a constant basis.
This, with the exception of funerals, was the first time I've seen death "in person." I've watched people dying (but never actually die). I've always had a morbid fascination with death, ghosts and haunted places. And on top of it all, the number one symptom of my lifelong anxiety disorder is my overwhelming fear of death.
Ever since I was a little girl I've had issues with leaving people. Still to this day I can't help but have a minor freak out every single time I say goodbye to those I care about. For some reason, my brain likes to make me think "they're going to die" every... single... time someone walks out the door. I've been dealing with this for almost 25 years now, so I've learned little ways to calm myself down. My earliest memory of this was when I was between 3 and 5 years old. I remember staring out the window at my parents as they left to celebrate their anniversary. I remember the panic start to fill my body. Then, and for years after that, my family just called me a "worrier." It was somewhat of a joke, but it wasn't until maybe high school that I realized it was anxiety. I used to sit up in the middle of the night for hours having panic attack after panic attack thinking to myself that something was wrong... that my parents were going to die. Sometimes it was so severe that I had to go into my parents room to check on them. I would wake up my mom and use the "I had a bad dream" excuse just to put my mind at ease... just to know she was still alive.
Now, I know exactly what those feeling are. I know how to try and talk myself out of them, but they are still there constantly nagging me. I have no idea where this irrational fear of death came from. And I don't fully understand how can I be simultaneously fascinated and afraid of it. I know it's just a natural part of life. It's something we all have to deal with, and there is really no way of stopping it from coming. I've experienced a good amount of death in my time. I've been to kind of a ridiculous amount of funerals for someone so young, but still I fear it. I still think about people dying all of the time.... so I think that's why when I was faced with the death of the man on the side of the road I could somewhat keep the same state of mind. Again, it's not that I wasn't sad for him (because I am, very much so), I just wasn't as affected as Corey. Sometimes I think he thinks he's invincible, so maybe the man on the side of the road served as a bit of a reminder to him that he should be a little careful. But maybe I should adopt a little bit of this invincible thinking so I don't slowly drive myself insane...
01 December, 2010
The Magic is Gone.
Yesterday, after I got home from work, my neighbor came outside to talk to me (for the sake of understanding the rest of my story you need to know that I live in a duplex). She wanted to inform me that her 4 year old son requested that my roommate put up the Christmas lights very soon. Theirs aren't working this year, and he is very concerned that Santa will not be able to find our house unless my roommate (not Corey or I) puts them up. I laughed and assured her that I would pass along the message and make sure we get them up, stat.
Hearing her sons concern about Santa made me remember how amazing Christmas time used to be. I loved everything about it, getting the tree, decorating it, putting up the lights, the music, driving around looking at the lights, the feel, the presents of course... everything. Those are all things that I still appreciate now, but not to the same caliber as when I was younger. I remember having dreams about it being Christmas, but then waking from them with this immense disappointment as I realized it was in fact not Christmas but rather the middle of July. Remember that excitement? Remember that feeling? It's gone now, at least for me. The feeling of Christmas has gone from my selfish excitement of getting presents to a selfless love of giving presents to other people. That's my main feeling when it comes to this time of the year. I seriously love buying things for other people, and Christmas is a great excuse to spoil the shit out of everyone I love.
I'm trying to recall when the "magic" died for me. It may have been around the time when I discovered the truth about Santa. For years I had been trying to decide on whether or not I was going to instill the idea of this Santa fellow into my future children. Recently, I came to the decision that the disappointment that comes later on when you realize that there really are no mystical, magical beings is worth the excitement in the years prior. Believing in Santa was a fun experience and I want my kids to experience the same joy that I did.
As I started to get older and question the idea, I would conduct my own experiments to try and prove whether or not he was real. I remember when I finally came to accept the truth. It was the day after Christmas and I was driving around with my dad and sister. There was a specific house on route 3A in Litchfield that is slightly downhill from the road and it gives you a clear view of the roof. Of course, all children know that Santa and his sleigh land on the roof, so I, being the clever little Santa debunker that I was, looked on the roof for any sign of sleigh or reindeer tracks. And much to my dismay, I saw none. It was then that I decided there was no Santa. The following Christmas only solidified my believe as I heard my mom and aunt sneaking downstairs with all the presents. I refused to admit the truth to my parents at first. I was scared that all the presents would stop once they realized I didn't believe, but I eventually decided they needed to know. I remember sadly walking into their room, looking at my mom, and with the most disappointed, monotone voice I reluctantly said, "Mom, I know there's no Santa" then turned and walked out of the room. And while it's actually kind of funny to me now, seeing how completely dramatic I needed to be about the whole thing, it was devastating for me at the time. The Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, all those I stopped believing in long, long before Santa. I mean really, how can you believe that there is this giant bunny creature hopping around hiding eggs in your house? That's kind of terrifying. But Santa, Santa I wanted to be real. Even though when you think about that it's equally as terrifying. That's breaking and entering, Santa... Just so you know.
Now, I think the thing I'm most looking forward to is being able to share the magic of Christmas with my own children. Of course, I'm not ready for that now. I have the rest of my 20's to live out before I start the baby making process. And I know it will be a few years before they will fully come to understand what Christmas means, but when that time comes I think the "magic" will begin to grow for me again. To see their faces and share in their excitement, to introduce them to old family traditions and create new ones of our own, that to me will create a completely new experience. And it's actually something I'm very much looking forward to...
... When I'm 30. :)
Hearing her sons concern about Santa made me remember how amazing Christmas time used to be. I loved everything about it, getting the tree, decorating it, putting up the lights, the music, driving around looking at the lights, the feel, the presents of course... everything. Those are all things that I still appreciate now, but not to the same caliber as when I was younger. I remember having dreams about it being Christmas, but then waking from them with this immense disappointment as I realized it was in fact not Christmas but rather the middle of July. Remember that excitement? Remember that feeling? It's gone now, at least for me. The feeling of Christmas has gone from my selfish excitement of getting presents to a selfless love of giving presents to other people. That's my main feeling when it comes to this time of the year. I seriously love buying things for other people, and Christmas is a great excuse to spoil the shit out of everyone I love.
I'm trying to recall when the "magic" died for me. It may have been around the time when I discovered the truth about Santa. For years I had been trying to decide on whether or not I was going to instill the idea of this Santa fellow into my future children. Recently, I came to the decision that the disappointment that comes later on when you realize that there really are no mystical, magical beings is worth the excitement in the years prior. Believing in Santa was a fun experience and I want my kids to experience the same joy that I did.
As I started to get older and question the idea, I would conduct my own experiments to try and prove whether or not he was real. I remember when I finally came to accept the truth. It was the day after Christmas and I was driving around with my dad and sister. There was a specific house on route 3A in Litchfield that is slightly downhill from the road and it gives you a clear view of the roof. Of course, all children know that Santa and his sleigh land on the roof, so I, being the clever little Santa debunker that I was, looked on the roof for any sign of sleigh or reindeer tracks. And much to my dismay, I saw none. It was then that I decided there was no Santa. The following Christmas only solidified my believe as I heard my mom and aunt sneaking downstairs with all the presents. I refused to admit the truth to my parents at first. I was scared that all the presents would stop once they realized I didn't believe, but I eventually decided they needed to know. I remember sadly walking into their room, looking at my mom, and with the most disappointed, monotone voice I reluctantly said, "Mom, I know there's no Santa" then turned and walked out of the room. And while it's actually kind of funny to me now, seeing how completely dramatic I needed to be about the whole thing, it was devastating for me at the time. The Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, all those I stopped believing in long, long before Santa. I mean really, how can you believe that there is this giant bunny creature hopping around hiding eggs in your house? That's kind of terrifying. But Santa, Santa I wanted to be real. Even though when you think about that it's equally as terrifying. That's breaking and entering, Santa... Just so you know.
Now, I think the thing I'm most looking forward to is being able to share the magic of Christmas with my own children. Of course, I'm not ready for that now. I have the rest of my 20's to live out before I start the baby making process. And I know it will be a few years before they will fully come to understand what Christmas means, but when that time comes I think the "magic" will begin to grow for me again. To see their faces and share in their excitement, to introduce them to old family traditions and create new ones of our own, that to me will create a completely new experience. And it's actually something I'm very much looking forward to...
... When I'm 30. :)
24 November, 2010
Thankful #2
Last year I posted a blog in which I listed the things I was thankful for. I reread it and nothing much has changed. I'm still equally as thankful for all the same things, but I guess I've come to appreciate some of them a little more. One in particular being...
My family.
I think every year I am even more thankful to have the family that I do. My immediate family is extremely close. There's really not much they don't know about me, whether they wanted to know about it in the first place or not. They are basically my support group and the people I turn to when I need help.
My aunt, who just so happens to be my second mother, has been my therapist since I was a little girl. She is probably the reason I am so open about everything. She's been teaching me how to speak my mind since... well, basically since I can remember. I always know I can turn to her for unbiased, solid advice. She was my savior through my teenage years when I felt as though my parents hated me. And while she may not have been very happy with what I was doing, she still helped. She still wanted me around, and at that time that was exactly what I needed. Now, she's still my therapist, still my shopping buddy, and completely supportive of my life choices. I love her like a daughter loves her mother, she's more than just an aunt to me.
My mom is someone I have ALWAYS been close to (with maybe the exception of my teenage years). I feel like we are slowly shedding that "mother-daughter" wall and becoming more like friends. I can talk to her about anything, and I think she is starting to feel more comfortable with sharing things her life with me. It's nice getting older and realizing that your parents aren't actually these god-like figures. They are human, they are just like you... and they are FAR from perfect. I like getting to know my mom. I like knowing about the stupid little mistakes she may have made before my time. My mom... she's kind of a bad ass. And as time goes on I learn more and more about how bad ass she actually is.
My dad and I have come a very long way. We didn't always get along the way we do, and it was a tough road getting there. But every day I am more and more happy that we fixed everything that needed to be fixed. We let the past be the past and now we have a very close bond. I can't tell you how happy it makes me when I see how proud of me he is. This past Saturday I played a show in Manchester that my family attended. My aunt later sent me an email telling me how my dad would turn to them and say, "That's my daughter up there!" I am so unbelievably lucky to have such supportive parents. My dad has always been supportive of just about everything I have ever done (even during the tougher times)... especially my music career. He shows my band to everyone he knows and has sold a TON of cds for us. The daughter in me always wants to make my parents happy, so when I do, it's like I'm a kid all over again. A little girl filled with excitement for doing a good job and making them proud.
My sister I could go on for days about. I've already stated in my previous entry that she is my best friend. She and I have been close for most of our lives, but it wasn't until I moved out of the house that we became such good friends. During the beginning of her teen years our relationship took a turn, but it was very short lived. It seems like every year we become closer. These past few years I have really come to appreciate our closeness, especially going through the rearranging of friends. While we don't always agree on everything, and we are still sisters so obviously there have been times where we have been annoyed with each other, we are still supportive. She always goes out of her way to be there for me, and she knows I do the same. She really is the best friend I will ever have, and I know how lucky I am for that.
There are not many families with a bond like mine. I'm reminded of this by a handful of different people in my life. As a teenager, I took it for granted, but now I appreciate every single moment of it. I am thankful for my family... for being there... for loving me... for supporting me... and for being the strange individuals that I love so very, very much.
My family.
I think every year I am even more thankful to have the family that I do. My immediate family is extremely close. There's really not much they don't know about me, whether they wanted to know about it in the first place or not. They are basically my support group and the people I turn to when I need help.
My aunt, who just so happens to be my second mother, has been my therapist since I was a little girl. She is probably the reason I am so open about everything. She's been teaching me how to speak my mind since... well, basically since I can remember. I always know I can turn to her for unbiased, solid advice. She was my savior through my teenage years when I felt as though my parents hated me. And while she may not have been very happy with what I was doing, she still helped. She still wanted me around, and at that time that was exactly what I needed. Now, she's still my therapist, still my shopping buddy, and completely supportive of my life choices. I love her like a daughter loves her mother, she's more than just an aunt to me.
My mom is someone I have ALWAYS been close to (with maybe the exception of my teenage years). I feel like we are slowly shedding that "mother-daughter" wall and becoming more like friends. I can talk to her about anything, and I think she is starting to feel more comfortable with sharing things her life with me. It's nice getting older and realizing that your parents aren't actually these god-like figures. They are human, they are just like you... and they are FAR from perfect. I like getting to know my mom. I like knowing about the stupid little mistakes she may have made before my time. My mom... she's kind of a bad ass. And as time goes on I learn more and more about how bad ass she actually is.
My dad and I have come a very long way. We didn't always get along the way we do, and it was a tough road getting there. But every day I am more and more happy that we fixed everything that needed to be fixed. We let the past be the past and now we have a very close bond. I can't tell you how happy it makes me when I see how proud of me he is. This past Saturday I played a show in Manchester that my family attended. My aunt later sent me an email telling me how my dad would turn to them and say, "That's my daughter up there!" I am so unbelievably lucky to have such supportive parents. My dad has always been supportive of just about everything I have ever done (even during the tougher times)... especially my music career. He shows my band to everyone he knows and has sold a TON of cds for us. The daughter in me always wants to make my parents happy, so when I do, it's like I'm a kid all over again. A little girl filled with excitement for doing a good job and making them proud.
My sister I could go on for days about. I've already stated in my previous entry that she is my best friend. She and I have been close for most of our lives, but it wasn't until I moved out of the house that we became such good friends. During the beginning of her teen years our relationship took a turn, but it was very short lived. It seems like every year we become closer. These past few years I have really come to appreciate our closeness, especially going through the rearranging of friends. While we don't always agree on everything, and we are still sisters so obviously there have been times where we have been annoyed with each other, we are still supportive. She always goes out of her way to be there for me, and she knows I do the same. She really is the best friend I will ever have, and I know how lucky I am for that.
There are not many families with a bond like mine. I'm reminded of this by a handful of different people in my life. As a teenager, I took it for granted, but now I appreciate every single moment of it. I am thankful for my family... for being there... for loving me... for supporting me... and for being the strange individuals that I love so very, very much.
22 November, 2010
Alone in a Crowded Room
As I fly through my 20's, I can't help but take note of all the things I have come to learn both about myself and those around me. The biggie being the important lesson of friendship.
You may find yourself asking these questions, "Who do I trust? Who is real?" Well, unfortunately, what I've come to discover is... no one. Okay, that may be a little over dramatic, but it's mostly true. As I get older I learn more and more about who I can trust, who exactly I can let in, who is probably around for the long haul, and who is completely psychotic. Though I have made mistakes. I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I try really hard not to judge someones character based on first impressions alone (and other peoples opinions). I do believe that deep down most everyone has the potential to be a good person, but unfortunately, this usually gets me into trouble. I've befriended people who my gut instinct has told me, "Uh, no. Bad idea." But because the nice person in me has said, "Well... mayyybbbeee..." I usually get myself into situations that I really, really don't want to be in. No matter how much I love to debate or argue (I'm an Aries, don't judge me), no amount of playful (and sometimes serious) arguments are worth the 14 billion days of drama that are sure to follow. I've learned how to keep my mouth shut, and I've definitely learned which people are the drama starters... and promptly decided to limit my interaction with them.
For someone who is 100% completely afraid of being alone, I'm starting to become more comfortable with myself. Very, very slowly I'm trying to like who I am, since really... I'm the the only one who's always going to be around for me. It's hard... It's depressing... and it can be lonely when I really start to think about it. I used to be close with a lot of people. I used to have a handful of girls I could call my "best friends" but that, much like everything else, inevitably came to an end, and I moved on. Sometimes I'm sad about it, but such is life. Nothing ever lasts forever. People come and go on a pretty much constant basis, so you need to just "sack up" (to quote a friend) and deal with it.
At first, I did not react to this change well, but now I've almost become accustomed to it. I feel much like the outsider, but I'm honestly okay with that. I observe everyone's lives from afar only to have brief encounters with them to play "catch up." And you know, that's okay. It's still nice to see that people can confide in me.
I'm not a complete loner however. I do still have a handful of very close friends. Those who have stuck by me have almost become more like family in my mind. My absolute best female friend is actually family, and I am so insanely lucky to have such a close bond with her (my sister). I do know who I can count on and I make sure they know it. I try to return the favor as often as possible.
I've pretty much come to accept that when it comes to friends there are those you can count on, and those you can't. Learn to expect nothing from people. Don't expect them to go out of their way for you because everyone is selfish, everyone... If you need someone for something go out and ask. If you treat someone with respect and they turn around and disrespect you, they may not actually be a "real" friend. You don't necessarily have to cut them out of your life completely, instead just place them in the "unreliable" category and move along. Every friend serves some sort of purpose. Some are your therapists, some are your party buddies, some are short term, others are long, and some are a combination. That's just how it is. Not everyone can be your best friend, and sometimes even your best friend can surprise you.
So just remember, nothing lasts forever, but at one point in time that friend provided you with either something you needed or something you needed to learn. Take solace in the fact that there will always be someone else you will find or can rely on, even if that person is yourself.
You may find yourself asking these questions, "Who do I trust? Who is real?" Well, unfortunately, what I've come to discover is... no one. Okay, that may be a little over dramatic, but it's mostly true. As I get older I learn more and more about who I can trust, who exactly I can let in, who is probably around for the long haul, and who is completely psychotic. Though I have made mistakes. I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I try really hard not to judge someones character based on first impressions alone (and other peoples opinions). I do believe that deep down most everyone has the potential to be a good person, but unfortunately, this usually gets me into trouble. I've befriended people who my gut instinct has told me, "Uh, no. Bad idea." But because the nice person in me has said, "Well... mayyybbbeee..." I usually get myself into situations that I really, really don't want to be in. No matter how much I love to debate or argue (I'm an Aries, don't judge me), no amount of playful (and sometimes serious) arguments are worth the 14 billion days of drama that are sure to follow. I've learned how to keep my mouth shut, and I've definitely learned which people are the drama starters... and promptly decided to limit my interaction with them.
For someone who is 100% completely afraid of being alone, I'm starting to become more comfortable with myself. Very, very slowly I'm trying to like who I am, since really... I'm the the only one who's always going to be around for me. It's hard... It's depressing... and it can be lonely when I really start to think about it. I used to be close with a lot of people. I used to have a handful of girls I could call my "best friends" but that, much like everything else, inevitably came to an end, and I moved on. Sometimes I'm sad about it, but such is life. Nothing ever lasts forever. People come and go on a pretty much constant basis, so you need to just "sack up" (to quote a friend) and deal with it.
At first, I did not react to this change well, but now I've almost become accustomed to it. I feel much like the outsider, but I'm honestly okay with that. I observe everyone's lives from afar only to have brief encounters with them to play "catch up." And you know, that's okay. It's still nice to see that people can confide in me.
I'm not a complete loner however. I do still have a handful of very close friends. Those who have stuck by me have almost become more like family in my mind. My absolute best female friend is actually family, and I am so insanely lucky to have such a close bond with her (my sister). I do know who I can count on and I make sure they know it. I try to return the favor as often as possible.
I've pretty much come to accept that when it comes to friends there are those you can count on, and those you can't. Learn to expect nothing from people. Don't expect them to go out of their way for you because everyone is selfish, everyone... If you need someone for something go out and ask. If you treat someone with respect and they turn around and disrespect you, they may not actually be a "real" friend. You don't necessarily have to cut them out of your life completely, instead just place them in the "unreliable" category and move along. Every friend serves some sort of purpose. Some are your therapists, some are your party buddies, some are short term, others are long, and some are a combination. That's just how it is. Not everyone can be your best friend, and sometimes even your best friend can surprise you.
So just remember, nothing lasts forever, but at one point in time that friend provided you with either something you needed or something you needed to learn. Take solace in the fact that there will always be someone else you will find or can rely on, even if that person is yourself.
19 October, 2010
Society: How it sucks out my soul.
I'm having a hard time dealing with this "growing up" business. The older I get the more things become clear to me. And I don't know if it's just because I'm getting old or if the world is actually getting worse, but this shit is depressing. I've been learning to ignore certain things, and yes sometimes ignorance is bliss, but I feel like I have to or else I'll go completely insane. The amount of selfishness, greed, and cruelty in this world is completely sickening. There are things I've read and heard that have sent my mind into such a complete rage that I have to take a step back and breathe. Things that even my own friends have said that make me so unbelievably angry that I've had to keep my mouth shut on as to not start an argument. I've been raised to feel compassion, and sometimes it's more of a curse than a blessing. I've been raised to be tolerant, but it's hard to be tolerant of intolerance. I try to listen to all sides, I try to understand, but I can't. I can't understand how people can hate things just because they are different. No matter how hard I try, I cannot wrap my head around how people can sleep with all the hateful ignorance floating around in their brains.
99.9% of the general public are sheep. Little wondering lost brainless sheep that follow whomever screams the loudest. And obviously, the loudest one HAS to be correct. No need for useless research to see if what they are screaming is actually the truth. No. That would be a waste of your precious little ignorant time. Research! What an asinine concept. Thinking for yourself? No, that's much to hard. Just follow the herd. Jump on the bandwagon... It's so much easier.
I. CANNOT. Take it anymore. What is wrong with you people? The racists who are so terrified of someones outside appearance that they don't realize that inside we are all exactly the same. The friends and relatives who shun family members because their white daughter is dating a black man, or their Asian daughter is dating a white man. Why? Why is that wrong? Because they have different skin tones? It is 2010 people. It's time to grow out of that racist bullshit and realize that we are all people. We are all human. We all breathe, bleed and die. We all all the same.
And ah, the homophobes. How I want to bash your intolerant faces in. What about love don't you understand? You want to dictate who someone is allowed to LOVE?! We are all human (again, again I must remind you) and despite what reproductive parts we have, we ALL have the capability to love another human being. Is a homosexual hurting you by loving someone of the same sex? I highly doubt it. Are you afraid of being "hit on" by someone of the same sex? Well don't flatter yourself hunny, you probably don't even get hit on by the opposite sex. And if by some chance you DO get hit on, take it as a compliment. That means you're attractive, and doesn't that make your stupid little brain feel good about itself? And why, OH WHY is gay marriage wrong? Please, please someone tell me how this does NOT go against the constitution? And don't you DARE quote the bible to me. That book has no right to be in politics, none (separation of church and state). That book tells you it's okay to kill your son and beat your wife... but "lying with another man is an abomination?!" Abuse? That's cool. Murder? Yeah that's fine. Homosexuality? NO! WRONG! THAS THE DEVIL, MA! No, your book has no affect on me, it should have no affect on you, and it should have absolutely no right to dictate whether or not gay people can get married. ONCE AGAIN, we are ALL HUMAN and we ALL deserve the same rights a privileges despite race, sex, or sexual orien-fucking-tation. HOW HARD IS THIS TO UNDERSTAND?!
And while I don't agree with organized religion, I believe everyone has the right to practice whatever they chose to... INCLUDING Islam. The fact that it was a national debate on whether or not a mosque (not even a damn mosque, it was a center or worship) could be placed NEAR ground zero was completely, completely, COMPLETELY stupid. Anyone who bothered to do just a little bit of research, those of us who did not follow blindly like a brainless sheep, would have seen that there was already a mosque DOWN THE STREET. It was something that should not have been a big deal that was blown WAY out of proportion (thank you conservative news reporting). This was one of those topics that I kept my mouth shut on. I watched on my facebook news feed as certain friends joined groups against the mosque and raged. RAGED. I seriously debated on whether I wanted to associate with these people anymore. I tried to passive aggressively post articles of RESEARCH I did on the topic, but the sheep did not listen. They never listen...
And here I am, cursed with compassion, and I sit here in complete disbelief that there are people who think the way they do. Hate will never disappear no matter how hard we try because the sheep will always follow, and unfortunately, most of those with the loud voices usually spew hate an ignorance to those poor fools. When those of us who have compassion stand up we are often told, no DEMANDED, to sit down. We are told that we are the stupid ones, that we don't know what we're talking about, and it's so completely draining. I try to stand up for what is right, I try so hard, but no one listens. Compassion is just another word for "weak" in the minds of the ignorant. I was once called a "peacenick" like it was a bad thing. Like it was BAD to want there to be peace in the world. I've been attacked for showing compassion towards animals like it was a BAD THING, and I just can't even begin to wrap my head around it.
I will raise my kids with compassion. I will teach them to love their fellow man and all living creatures. I will teach them to form their own opinions based on research and facts, and to never blindly follow anyone... not even me. Many people ask me if I will make my kids be vegetarians because I am, and I won't. I want my kids to make their own life choices, and I will love them no matter what. I can only hope that they will take my teachings of compassion to heart and choose to live that way. I want them to be able to see the beauty in a world that is constantly trying to show you ugliness. Compassion is beautiful. Humans can be beautiful. Nature is beautiful. And despite your views on everything, you deserve to be happy and you deserve to see this happiness. Living in a state of ignorance slowly obstructs your view of this beauty and turns you into a bitter, lonely person. Open your mind. Open your heart and learn to love. Come outside your own world. Come outside yourself and realize that we all have the right to happiness, human and animal. Don't follow blindly, don't believe the loud ones. Do a little research because most of the time it proves the loud ones wrong.
I try not to speak on these subjects often because I know no matter what I say I will most likely not even make a difference, but I can't always just sit idly by and watch as hate devours the earth. I want to make a difference, and I will keep standing up for what I believe in. I will confront hate as it is brought to me, and when the time comes, I will teach my children how to love others. Which is what we should all do. ALL OF US.... Learn how to love unconditionally and spread compassion instead of hate.
Being an adult is overwhelming. Having your eyes opened to how society really is can be completely depressing, and I am having a hard time with it. I'm hoping that in time things will get better, but I have very little faith in our world.
99.9% of the general public are sheep. Little wondering lost brainless sheep that follow whomever screams the loudest. And obviously, the loudest one HAS to be correct. No need for useless research to see if what they are screaming is actually the truth. No. That would be a waste of your precious little ignorant time. Research! What an asinine concept. Thinking for yourself? No, that's much to hard. Just follow the herd. Jump on the bandwagon... It's so much easier.
I. CANNOT. Take it anymore. What is wrong with you people? The racists who are so terrified of someones outside appearance that they don't realize that inside we are all exactly the same. The friends and relatives who shun family members because their white daughter is dating a black man, or their Asian daughter is dating a white man. Why? Why is that wrong? Because they have different skin tones? It is 2010 people. It's time to grow out of that racist bullshit and realize that we are all people. We are all human. We all breathe, bleed and die. We all all the same.
And ah, the homophobes. How I want to bash your intolerant faces in. What about love don't you understand? You want to dictate who someone is allowed to LOVE?! We are all human (again, again I must remind you) and despite what reproductive parts we have, we ALL have the capability to love another human being. Is a homosexual hurting you by loving someone of the same sex? I highly doubt it. Are you afraid of being "hit on" by someone of the same sex? Well don't flatter yourself hunny, you probably don't even get hit on by the opposite sex. And if by some chance you DO get hit on, take it as a compliment. That means you're attractive, and doesn't that make your stupid little brain feel good about itself? And why, OH WHY is gay marriage wrong? Please, please someone tell me how this does NOT go against the constitution? And don't you DARE quote the bible to me. That book has no right to be in politics, none (separation of church and state). That book tells you it's okay to kill your son and beat your wife... but "lying with another man is an abomination?!" Abuse? That's cool. Murder? Yeah that's fine. Homosexuality? NO! WRONG! THAS THE DEVIL, MA! No, your book has no affect on me, it should have no affect on you, and it should have absolutely no right to dictate whether or not gay people can get married. ONCE AGAIN, we are ALL HUMAN and we ALL deserve the same rights a privileges despite race, sex, or sexual orien-fucking-tation. HOW HARD IS THIS TO UNDERSTAND?!
And while I don't agree with organized religion, I believe everyone has the right to practice whatever they chose to... INCLUDING Islam. The fact that it was a national debate on whether or not a mosque (not even a damn mosque, it was a center or worship) could be placed NEAR ground zero was completely, completely, COMPLETELY stupid. Anyone who bothered to do just a little bit of research, those of us who did not follow blindly like a brainless sheep, would have seen that there was already a mosque DOWN THE STREET. It was something that should not have been a big deal that was blown WAY out of proportion (thank you conservative news reporting). This was one of those topics that I kept my mouth shut on. I watched on my facebook news feed as certain friends joined groups against the mosque and raged. RAGED. I seriously debated on whether I wanted to associate with these people anymore. I tried to passive aggressively post articles of RESEARCH I did on the topic, but the sheep did not listen. They never listen...
And here I am, cursed with compassion, and I sit here in complete disbelief that there are people who think the way they do. Hate will never disappear no matter how hard we try because the sheep will always follow, and unfortunately, most of those with the loud voices usually spew hate an ignorance to those poor fools. When those of us who have compassion stand up we are often told, no DEMANDED, to sit down. We are told that we are the stupid ones, that we don't know what we're talking about, and it's so completely draining. I try to stand up for what is right, I try so hard, but no one listens. Compassion is just another word for "weak" in the minds of the ignorant. I was once called a "peacenick" like it was a bad thing. Like it was BAD to want there to be peace in the world. I've been attacked for showing compassion towards animals like it was a BAD THING, and I just can't even begin to wrap my head around it.
I will raise my kids with compassion. I will teach them to love their fellow man and all living creatures. I will teach them to form their own opinions based on research and facts, and to never blindly follow anyone... not even me. Many people ask me if I will make my kids be vegetarians because I am, and I won't. I want my kids to make their own life choices, and I will love them no matter what. I can only hope that they will take my teachings of compassion to heart and choose to live that way. I want them to be able to see the beauty in a world that is constantly trying to show you ugliness. Compassion is beautiful. Humans can be beautiful. Nature is beautiful. And despite your views on everything, you deserve to be happy and you deserve to see this happiness. Living in a state of ignorance slowly obstructs your view of this beauty and turns you into a bitter, lonely person. Open your mind. Open your heart and learn to love. Come outside your own world. Come outside yourself and realize that we all have the right to happiness, human and animal. Don't follow blindly, don't believe the loud ones. Do a little research because most of the time it proves the loud ones wrong.
I try not to speak on these subjects often because I know no matter what I say I will most likely not even make a difference, but I can't always just sit idly by and watch as hate devours the earth. I want to make a difference, and I will keep standing up for what I believe in. I will confront hate as it is brought to me, and when the time comes, I will teach my children how to love others. Which is what we should all do. ALL OF US.... Learn how to love unconditionally and spread compassion instead of hate.
Being an adult is overwhelming. Having your eyes opened to how society really is can be completely depressing, and I am having a hard time with it. I'm hoping that in time things will get better, but I have very little faith in our world.
20 September, 2010
The Truth
You will never, ever be liked by everyone. There will always be at least one person who doesn't like you. You just can't please everyone.
One day you and everyone you know will die. There's really nothing you can do about it. It's a natural part of life as terrifying as it may be to some (myself included), but this is a grim reality that we all will have to face at some point in time.
Not everyone is going to agree with you. If someone is set in their ways, no amount of debating or presented facts will change their minds. 99.9% of us are stubborn little assholes, so sometimes it's best to pick your battles and know when to stop.
There is no such thing as "happily ever after." Unless someone can give me hardcore proof of someone being happy ALL the time (really happy, not faking it), then I stand by this statement. Suffering and pain is also a natural part of life. It's something you have to learn how to deal with. Happiness won't be around all the time, but it always returns. Always. No matter how much you think it wont.
There is no such thing as the "perfect" relationship. Every relationship has its ups and downs. If you're reading this and disagreeing with me... you are one of the following: A. You're in a brand new relationship. I like to refer to this as the "honeymoon period." Don't worry, things will get normal soon enough. B. You're in denial. Something is not right, or someone is lying. Fighting and disagreements happen. It comes with the territory of sharing your life with someone. You won't agree on everything, and at some point in time your significant other is going to piss you right the fuck off, but you know what? It's normal. Normal relationships require work. That's just how it is.
No matter what you do you can never go back and correct something in your past. I don't know how many times I've wished, PLEADED to whomever controls my life, to just this once let me go back and correct a mistake I've made. But no matter how hard I tried, it never happened. You have to learn to live with your mistakes and move forward. You cannot fully live in the present if you are stuck in your past.
These are just a few things that I feel if I admit to the general public, it may be easier for me to deal with and accept in my own life. Feel free to add more...
One day you and everyone you know will die. There's really nothing you can do about it. It's a natural part of life as terrifying as it may be to some (myself included), but this is a grim reality that we all will have to face at some point in time.
Not everyone is going to agree with you. If someone is set in their ways, no amount of debating or presented facts will change their minds. 99.9% of us are stubborn little assholes, so sometimes it's best to pick your battles and know when to stop.
There is no such thing as "happily ever after." Unless someone can give me hardcore proof of someone being happy ALL the time (really happy, not faking it), then I stand by this statement. Suffering and pain is also a natural part of life. It's something you have to learn how to deal with. Happiness won't be around all the time, but it always returns. Always. No matter how much you think it wont.
There is no such thing as the "perfect" relationship. Every relationship has its ups and downs. If you're reading this and disagreeing with me... you are one of the following: A. You're in a brand new relationship. I like to refer to this as the "honeymoon period." Don't worry, things will get normal soon enough. B. You're in denial. Something is not right, or someone is lying. Fighting and disagreements happen. It comes with the territory of sharing your life with someone. You won't agree on everything, and at some point in time your significant other is going to piss you right the fuck off, but you know what? It's normal. Normal relationships require work. That's just how it is.
No matter what you do you can never go back and correct something in your past. I don't know how many times I've wished, PLEADED to whomever controls my life, to just this once let me go back and correct a mistake I've made. But no matter how hard I tried, it never happened. You have to learn to live with your mistakes and move forward. You cannot fully live in the present if you are stuck in your past.
These are just a few things that I feel if I admit to the general public, it may be easier for me to deal with and accept in my own life. Feel free to add more...
08 September, 2010
I keep my secrets safe.
I am absolutely in love with Post Secret. The idea is brilliant. It gives people an anonymous outlet to release their inner most thoughts. Frank Warren, the creator, has saved and helped so many people just by allowing them to share their pain, frustrations or anomalies. Such a simple, simple idea... but an amazing one.
I read the Sunday Secrets every week, and I almost own all the books. And like the baby I am, I sometimes am almost (and sometimes actually) brought to tears. I put myself in those peoples situations and imagine what it must be like. Sometimes I read secrets that must have been ripped from my own brain. But I think what upsets me the most is that I can't help anyone. I can't be there for the people that need someone. I can't offer my advice on how I've dealt with a similar pain.
I don't know what compels me to want to fix everything, to comfort everyone. Up until recently I would always offer my shoulder to cry on, my inbox to vent to, to everyone... even people I barely even knew... Not because I'm nosey, but because if I can be that ONE person that makes a difference for someone battling something in their life it would mean the world to me. But as stated in previous entries, I've become more shut up and bitter in the past few years. I've actually stopped myself from offering out this help to just anyone and have saved it for just those who remain extremely close to me, or who have reciprocated that feeling of compassion towards me in the past. I feel as if more often than not, my compassion is taken advantage of. So I tend to pick and choose who I try to help.
I've always wanted to do something close to Post Secret... but mostly I'm basing this desire off the feeling of anonymity. It's sad that you will never really know someone, truly know them. People are so concerned with their image and what other people think that they can't fully express themselves unless they are hidden by that anonymous mask. You will never, ever know what is really inside the head of anyone, ever... Even honest people tend to mask things. I'm pretty honest and open, but I, much like the rest of the world, have a handful of truths that I can barely admit to myself let alone the general public. If there wasn't so much hate in this world, if people weren't so sensitive (myself ABSOLUTELY included), then maybe people could show everyone else who they really are.
(And now it's time for me to move to job #2... perhaps I will elaborate on this more later. Sorry if it seems to end so abruptly!)
If you read this feel free to leave your own anonymous comment. There's an option to do so. I'd love to know the real you.
I read the Sunday Secrets every week, and I almost own all the books. And like the baby I am, I sometimes am almost (and sometimes actually) brought to tears. I put myself in those peoples situations and imagine what it must be like. Sometimes I read secrets that must have been ripped from my own brain. But I think what upsets me the most is that I can't help anyone. I can't be there for the people that need someone. I can't offer my advice on how I've dealt with a similar pain.
I don't know what compels me to want to fix everything, to comfort everyone. Up until recently I would always offer my shoulder to cry on, my inbox to vent to, to everyone... even people I barely even knew... Not because I'm nosey, but because if I can be that ONE person that makes a difference for someone battling something in their life it would mean the world to me. But as stated in previous entries, I've become more shut up and bitter in the past few years. I've actually stopped myself from offering out this help to just anyone and have saved it for just those who remain extremely close to me, or who have reciprocated that feeling of compassion towards me in the past. I feel as if more often than not, my compassion is taken advantage of. So I tend to pick and choose who I try to help.
I've always wanted to do something close to Post Secret... but mostly I'm basing this desire off the feeling of anonymity. It's sad that you will never really know someone, truly know them. People are so concerned with their image and what other people think that they can't fully express themselves unless they are hidden by that anonymous mask. You will never, ever know what is really inside the head of anyone, ever... Even honest people tend to mask things. I'm pretty honest and open, but I, much like the rest of the world, have a handful of truths that I can barely admit to myself let alone the general public. If there wasn't so much hate in this world, if people weren't so sensitive (myself ABSOLUTELY included), then maybe people could show everyone else who they really are.
(And now it's time for me to move to job #2... perhaps I will elaborate on this more later. Sorry if it seems to end so abruptly!)
If you read this feel free to leave your own anonymous comment. There's an option to do so. I'd love to know the real you.
27 August, 2010
The Story of You and Me.
I am not the most perfect person. I have many flaws. I come with my own fair share of baggage, though I try to carry it well. There are times when I am not the easiest person to be around, and there are times when I can say the most perfectly wrong thing at the most perfectly wrong time. But I am also very loving... very affectionate... and I will do anything for those I love.
I met Corey two years ago this week, and as of tonight (or tomorrow morning, all depending on how you look at it) we will have been "exclusive" for two years. He met me at the end of a very confusing, depressing, and somewhat insane chapter of my life, but his entrance couldn't have been more perfect.
We were introduced through a mutual friend. She gave me his myspace, and gave him mine. She invited us to the same party... and the rest was up to us. At first, I was a little unsure of him. Based on looks alone (aka pictures on myspace), yeah sure I was interested... the dude had blue and green hair and TWO lip piercings... how could I not be? Everyone knows how I like the interesting looking boys. But my self esteem was being threatened by his skinny little emaciated body. I decided to suck it up and meet him anyway... too skinny or not.
Walking into the party was slightly awkward. Both of us knew we were there to meet each other (and apparently everyone else did too)... Both of us knew that we had seen the other one's myspace... but neither of us knew exactly what to say. But from the moment I saw him, I knew. I just had a feeling, before any words were even spoken, that this was a man I wanted to get to know. I wanted him in my life. It was, without a doubt, a chemical reaction. At least to me.
We didn't even end up speaking until much later on in the party. Oddly enough we were brought together because of a weird guy with a hooker. They became the ice breaker, and from that moment on words came easily.
From that first night, a little more than two years ago, we have spent a grand total of 3 nights apart. We have had our fair share of ups and downs. We've come close to the brink of self destruction a few times. But here we are. Still standing. Still moving forward. Still together.
The time has completely flown by, it still feels like I met him just yesterday... Yet at the same time, I feel like I've known him my whole life. He helps to keep me sane, and sometimes makes me insane. He helps to keep me on track and distracts me when I need a breath of fresh air, feeds me self esteem when I'm in the depths of self pity, tests my patience, and makes me laugh all the time. He frustrates and calms me, he is both my protector and my protectee. He is my love, and despite everything we've gone through, I'm glad we've gone through it together. I'm happy to have him in my life, and no matter where this life takes us I will always remember the love he makes me feel.
He saved me. He saved me from the awful place I was in, and I'm not sure he knows it. I fell in love with him so easily when before him "love" was a hard thing for me to feel. I'm grateful for him. I'm grateful for our love. I'm grateful for the things he taught me and how amazing he makes me feel. And I'm so glad to have him in my life.
I met Corey two years ago this week, and as of tonight (or tomorrow morning, all depending on how you look at it) we will have been "exclusive" for two years. He met me at the end of a very confusing, depressing, and somewhat insane chapter of my life, but his entrance couldn't have been more perfect.
We were introduced through a mutual friend. She gave me his myspace, and gave him mine. She invited us to the same party... and the rest was up to us. At first, I was a little unsure of him. Based on looks alone (aka pictures on myspace), yeah sure I was interested... the dude had blue and green hair and TWO lip piercings... how could I not be? Everyone knows how I like the interesting looking boys. But my self esteem was being threatened by his skinny little emaciated body. I decided to suck it up and meet him anyway... too skinny or not.
Walking into the party was slightly awkward. Both of us knew we were there to meet each other (and apparently everyone else did too)... Both of us knew that we had seen the other one's myspace... but neither of us knew exactly what to say. But from the moment I saw him, I knew. I just had a feeling, before any words were even spoken, that this was a man I wanted to get to know. I wanted him in my life. It was, without a doubt, a chemical reaction. At least to me.
We didn't even end up speaking until much later on in the party. Oddly enough we were brought together because of a weird guy with a hooker. They became the ice breaker, and from that moment on words came easily.
From that first night, a little more than two years ago, we have spent a grand total of 3 nights apart. We have had our fair share of ups and downs. We've come close to the brink of self destruction a few times. But here we are. Still standing. Still moving forward. Still together.
The time has completely flown by, it still feels like I met him just yesterday... Yet at the same time, I feel like I've known him my whole life. He helps to keep me sane, and sometimes makes me insane. He helps to keep me on track and distracts me when I need a breath of fresh air, feeds me self esteem when I'm in the depths of self pity, tests my patience, and makes me laugh all the time. He frustrates and calms me, he is both my protector and my protectee. He is my love, and despite everything we've gone through, I'm glad we've gone through it together. I'm happy to have him in my life, and no matter where this life takes us I will always remember the love he makes me feel.
He saved me. He saved me from the awful place I was in, and I'm not sure he knows it. I fell in love with him so easily when before him "love" was a hard thing for me to feel. I'm grateful for him. I'm grateful for our love. I'm grateful for the things he taught me and how amazing he makes me feel. And I'm so glad to have him in my life.
25 August, 2010
Exhausted
I'm frustrated... I'm frustrated with a many number of things. Me, life, humans, money.... everything. Everything is exhausting.
I feel stuck... Stuck in my mind, in my life, in my career.
Though I'm not sure any of this is new. There are times where I can suppress my frustration and exhaustion, still, I'm not very good at it... However, today, for some reason, has worn me out. Even now, I'm struggling to type at least a little something in this because I feel I have to... but it is exhausting me. Trying to find the correct words to accurately describe what it is I'm feeling is.... exhausting.
It's the anxiety kicking in with more force. My old, faithful (unwanted) friend. Slowly eating away at me, silently whispering in my ear all the things that terrify me, sucking the joy out of my existence, and slapping me in the face with dreadful reality. Lately, it's been taunting me with my number one fear, death. I can't stop thinking about it. Even during the happiest of moments my anxiety manages to slip in a little, What if he/she/you die(s)? What would you do?... Which I then have to work diligently to ignore. I hate it. I want to find out which receptor in my brain decides to fire off that little tid-bit of reality and destroy it... with fire. It's like I keep myself from being happy. But why? Why. I feel a little happiness so I have to knock myself down. But WHY?
Two years ago this was one of the happiest weeks in my lifetime. This was the week I met Corey. I remember being so overwhelmed with happiness, with those crazy little butterflies, that it actually scared me. We'd be laying together, or driving in his car, or in the midst of conversation and I'd drift off and think about how happy all of this had made me, but then, in true Sam form, that receptor would fire off a... You know this wont last. The butterflies never do. This is the happiest you will ever be in this relationship, and you'll never be able to relive this. WHY!? I remember one night in particular while we were laying in my bed I got that overwhelmingly happy feeling which was immediately followed by that little depressing thought and I cried. I cried like a little baby, but I hid it well. I didn't want to show him my "crazy," not just yet.
It's so depressing. And what's even worse is that I know I'm doing it to myself, yet I have no idea how to stop this from happening. Medication is completely out of the question. Already been down that road before, hunny, didn't like. Do not want. Never mind the fact that my insurance is possibly the worst insurance you can have besides not having any at all. But at the same time, I guess I'm learning to live with it. I guess that's all you can do really. Accept yourself for what you are and learn how to deal in a sane manner...
Growing up is really stupid.
I feel stuck... Stuck in my mind, in my life, in my career.
Though I'm not sure any of this is new. There are times where I can suppress my frustration and exhaustion, still, I'm not very good at it... However, today, for some reason, has worn me out. Even now, I'm struggling to type at least a little something in this because I feel I have to... but it is exhausting me. Trying to find the correct words to accurately describe what it is I'm feeling is.... exhausting.
It's the anxiety kicking in with more force. My old, faithful (unwanted) friend. Slowly eating away at me, silently whispering in my ear all the things that terrify me, sucking the joy out of my existence, and slapping me in the face with dreadful reality. Lately, it's been taunting me with my number one fear, death. I can't stop thinking about it. Even during the happiest of moments my anxiety manages to slip in a little, What if he/she/you die(s)? What would you do?... Which I then have to work diligently to ignore. I hate it. I want to find out which receptor in my brain decides to fire off that little tid-bit of reality and destroy it... with fire. It's like I keep myself from being happy. But why? Why. I feel a little happiness so I have to knock myself down. But WHY?
Two years ago this was one of the happiest weeks in my lifetime. This was the week I met Corey. I remember being so overwhelmed with happiness, with those crazy little butterflies, that it actually scared me. We'd be laying together, or driving in his car, or in the midst of conversation and I'd drift off and think about how happy all of this had made me, but then, in true Sam form, that receptor would fire off a... You know this wont last. The butterflies never do. This is the happiest you will ever be in this relationship, and you'll never be able to relive this. WHY!? I remember one night in particular while we were laying in my bed I got that overwhelmingly happy feeling which was immediately followed by that little depressing thought and I cried. I cried like a little baby, but I hid it well. I didn't want to show him my "crazy," not just yet.
It's so depressing. And what's even worse is that I know I'm doing it to myself, yet I have no idea how to stop this from happening. Medication is completely out of the question. Already been down that road before, hunny, didn't like. Do not want. Never mind the fact that my insurance is possibly the worst insurance you can have besides not having any at all. But at the same time, I guess I'm learning to live with it. I guess that's all you can do really. Accept yourself for what you are and learn how to deal in a sane manner...
Growing up is really stupid.
03 August, 2010
Benson's: The Obsession.
Let me introduce you to one of my obsessions: Benson's Park (formerly Benson's Wild Animal Farm).
My Benson's obsession started many years ago. I remember seeing the old sign with Mighty Mouse on it when I first moved to the area back in the early 1990's... and I remember watching an old video of me at Benson's (I think it was called New England Playland at that time)... and ever since then I've been interested in it.
When I was 17 a group of my friends and I went exploring on the grounds, but we never really made it anywhere interesting (like the old buildings). Then a little over two years ago I went back with my sister and friend and was able to explore the buildings (I actually have a journal entry of this) .
Just this year they reopened the park, completely (and beautifully) renovated and landscaped. I've been a few times so far and I always get this burst of excitement. I walk (or bike) around the grounds and (even though I may have read them a bazillion times) I stop at every single marker that explains what used to be there. I find it all extremely interesting. I always try to imagine what it must have been like when it was a full blown park, and a part of me wishes I could somehow remember being there (though I can't... I was only a year old). I have always been completely fascinated by old things or places, but Benson's, by far, takes the cake for my "old things" obsession. I have researched the HELL out of it. I've googled old pictures, I've read about it in the "Town of Hudson History" book at Barns and Noble (which I want SO BAD), and I've even bid on an old park map (I ended up finding a picture online which I fully intend to take with me to the park and walk around with). I can't explain to you why is it I'm so obsessed, but it is seriously probably one of the most interesting spots in the world to me.
My Benson's obsession started many years ago. I remember seeing the old sign with Mighty Mouse on it when I first moved to the area back in the early 1990's... and I remember watching an old video of me at Benson's (I think it was called New England Playland at that time)... and ever since then I've been interested in it.
When I was 17 a group of my friends and I went exploring on the grounds, but we never really made it anywhere interesting (like the old buildings). Then a little over two years ago I went back with my sister and friend and was able to explore the buildings (I actually have a journal entry of this) .
Just this year they reopened the park, completely (and beautifully) renovated and landscaped. I've been a few times so far and I always get this burst of excitement. I walk (or bike) around the grounds and (even though I may have read them a bazillion times) I stop at every single marker that explains what used to be there. I find it all extremely interesting. I always try to imagine what it must have been like when it was a full blown park, and a part of me wishes I could somehow remember being there (though I can't... I was only a year old). I have always been completely fascinated by old things or places, but Benson's, by far, takes the cake for my "old things" obsession. I have researched the HELL out of it. I've googled old pictures, I've read about it in the "Town of Hudson History" book at Barns and Noble (which I want SO BAD), and I've even bid on an old park map (I ended up finding a picture online which I fully intend to take with me to the park and walk around with). I can't explain to you why is it I'm so obsessed, but it is seriously probably one of the most interesting spots in the world to me.
28 July, 2010
Make it die.
So... to keep with the trend I will say a positive thing(s) (#3) before I start:
I very much enjoy my new found acceptance of being alone with myself... and it's such a satisfying feeling knowing that none of my old pants fit.
But now on to the subject I intended to write about, something I have spoken of before... This subject being one of the most evil things ever created. Something that corrupts many people, ruins relationships of all kinds, starts wars, causes crimes, aids in illiteracy, and essentially kills so many people. What is this horrible, awful thing you may ask? Money.
What a horrible concept. A piece of paper, a number in a bank account, pretty much determines your standing as a human being. This thing that is, in all honesty, something we have made up has become something everyone craves, everyone needs. But why? Why did we let this spiral so horribly out of control? What seemingly started out as maybe a good idea is now pretty much the bane of my, and I would assume most peoples, existence.
I sacrifice my happiness, my very little precious time here on earth to obtain these numbers. And for what? To give those numbers to other people. To panic when those numbers start dwindling away. To carefully count, budget, decide how to spend those numbers in order to survive. 40 hours a week... 2,080 hours a year... and essentially 101,920 hours out of my entire life will be dedicated to numbers. Theoretical digits sitting in a bank account. We are slaves to numbers. And most of us allow numbers to effect our happiness.
If there was a way to stop caring, and not just fool myself into not caring, I would do it. But no matter how many times I tell myself not to let money bother me, I still find myself craving more of it. I feel that if money really didn't matter I would enjoy my job more. I'm allowing those numbers to effect my sanity, my happiness, they control my life. But how do I make this stop? I'm not nearly as money hungry as some people, and I wouldn't necessarily call myself money hungry at all. I just want enough of it to live comfortably. I want to be able to save for a vacation and buy groceries at the same time. That's not too much to ask for. There are so many times where I begin to panic, thoughts of "How the hell am I going to do this?" start filling my head and the anxiety sets in. NUMBERS, because of numbers. I have to sacrifice one thing to obtain another, I have to fight the battle of being responsible or having fun on a pretty much constant basis, and I don't want to have to do this forever. I have never known in my adult life what it was like to be comfortable, financial wise. And with the economy the way it is, I wonder if I will ever feel that way.
I don't want to want money. I don't want it to determine who I will ultimately marry (the only pressure put on me by my parents... to find someone who will help me live comfortably). But I do, and it probably will. And this cycle will never end, this cycle of numbers. Obtaining, budgeting, giving away, panicking, wanting. Though I'm hoping, with any luck, I may find myself "comfortable" someday. It's just the getting there that is sucking the soul right out of my body.
I very much enjoy my new found acceptance of being alone with myself... and it's such a satisfying feeling knowing that none of my old pants fit.
But now on to the subject I intended to write about, something I have spoken of before... This subject being one of the most evil things ever created. Something that corrupts many people, ruins relationships of all kinds, starts wars, causes crimes, aids in illiteracy, and essentially kills so many people. What is this horrible, awful thing you may ask? Money.
What a horrible concept. A piece of paper, a number in a bank account, pretty much determines your standing as a human being. This thing that is, in all honesty, something we have made up has become something everyone craves, everyone needs. But why? Why did we let this spiral so horribly out of control? What seemingly started out as maybe a good idea is now pretty much the bane of my, and I would assume most peoples, existence.
I sacrifice my happiness, my very little precious time here on earth to obtain these numbers. And for what? To give those numbers to other people. To panic when those numbers start dwindling away. To carefully count, budget, decide how to spend those numbers in order to survive. 40 hours a week... 2,080 hours a year... and essentially 101,920 hours out of my entire life will be dedicated to numbers. Theoretical digits sitting in a bank account. We are slaves to numbers. And most of us allow numbers to effect our happiness.
If there was a way to stop caring, and not just fool myself into not caring, I would do it. But no matter how many times I tell myself not to let money bother me, I still find myself craving more of it. I feel that if money really didn't matter I would enjoy my job more. I'm allowing those numbers to effect my sanity, my happiness, they control my life. But how do I make this stop? I'm not nearly as money hungry as some people, and I wouldn't necessarily call myself money hungry at all. I just want enough of it to live comfortably. I want to be able to save for a vacation and buy groceries at the same time. That's not too much to ask for. There are so many times where I begin to panic, thoughts of "How the hell am I going to do this?" start filling my head and the anxiety sets in. NUMBERS, because of numbers. I have to sacrifice one thing to obtain another, I have to fight the battle of being responsible or having fun on a pretty much constant basis, and I don't want to have to do this forever. I have never known in my adult life what it was like to be comfortable, financial wise. And with the economy the way it is, I wonder if I will ever feel that way.
I don't want to want money. I don't want it to determine who I will ultimately marry (the only pressure put on me by my parents... to find someone who will help me live comfortably). But I do, and it probably will. And this cycle will never end, this cycle of numbers. Obtaining, budgeting, giving away, panicking, wanting. Though I'm hoping, with any luck, I may find myself "comfortable" someday. It's just the getting there that is sucking the soul right out of my body.
01 July, 2010
Disappear
So here is my positive thought of the day #2:
I really like how I look in the pants I'm wearing today. I tried them on thinking I wouldn't be able to squeeze my ass into them, but lo and behold! I'm in... and feelin' sexy. Kind of a nice, new feeling for me.
Moving on...
I've gone into a semi hibernation. For the first time in a while I'm actually enjoying alone time instead of fearing it. Corey goes in to work when I get out of it, Jon is usually off doing his own thing, so that leaves me the whole night to hang out with... me (and Valo). Usually, I'd rush around and try to make plans with people, fearing that I'd actually have to be alone with myself, but now I find it kind of nice. I (attempt) write, sometimes I even pick up my guitar and play a little, I read, go shopping, go for bike rides (or do some sort of exercise) but most importantly I relax. Sometimes I just sit with the dog and watch TV for hours... It's... nice. I don't feel the need to run to other people to help me occupy my time. I'm completely comfortable with doing things alone.
Though, I know one of the reasons I've come to this is because I've stopped trusting almost everyone. At this point I have no idea who is real and who's a liar. I have no idea if the things being said to me are even real, so I find it easier to distance myself than to try to sort out the facts from fiction. And you know, since I've been in this hibernation mode, I've had very little drama in my life.
I often worry if my absence aggravates people, but the way I look at it, my very true friends don't really need me around all the time. I assume if it becomes a problem something will be said, but I think most understand that I get this way sometimes. Just, right now I'm having a hard time coming out of hibernation... and I can't fully decide whether or not that's a bad thing.
I really like how I look in the pants I'm wearing today. I tried them on thinking I wouldn't be able to squeeze my ass into them, but lo and behold! I'm in... and feelin' sexy. Kind of a nice, new feeling for me.
Moving on...
I've gone into a semi hibernation. For the first time in a while I'm actually enjoying alone time instead of fearing it. Corey goes in to work when I get out of it, Jon is usually off doing his own thing, so that leaves me the whole night to hang out with... me (and Valo). Usually, I'd rush around and try to make plans with people, fearing that I'd actually have to be alone with myself, but now I find it kind of nice. I (attempt) write, sometimes I even pick up my guitar and play a little, I read, go shopping, go for bike rides (or do some sort of exercise) but most importantly I relax. Sometimes I just sit with the dog and watch TV for hours... It's... nice. I don't feel the need to run to other people to help me occupy my time. I'm completely comfortable with doing things alone.
Though, I know one of the reasons I've come to this is because I've stopped trusting almost everyone. At this point I have no idea who is real and who's a liar. I have no idea if the things being said to me are even real, so I find it easier to distance myself than to try to sort out the facts from fiction. And you know, since I've been in this hibernation mode, I've had very little drama in my life.
I often worry if my absence aggravates people, but the way I look at it, my very true friends don't really need me around all the time. I assume if it becomes a problem something will be said, but I think most understand that I get this way sometimes. Just, right now I'm having a hard time coming out of hibernation... and I can't fully decide whether or not that's a bad thing.
29 June, 2010
Brand New Start
My band has done some rearranging, much to the dismay of certain people. I wont get too much into it, but I will say this: When you're working with a group of people it is impossible for everyone be on the same page all the time... Different people have different ideas. However, when the majority of you agree on most things and one does not, something is clearly wrong. It doesn't mean that person is wrong, it doesn't mean that person is not talented, it simply means that maybe that person is trying to go in a direction that the rest don't want to go in, or has ideas and philosophies that maybe the rest don't agree with. As much as you don't want it to feel like a personal attack, it is, and as much as you want things to go smoothly between yourself the estranged member, they wont. Because like I've said before, being in a band is a LOT like being in a relationship, and break ups are never, ever easy. Though hopefully in time grudges will be forgotten and the reality of the situation will set in. And maybe they will see that we simply stopped postponing the inevitable.
24 June, 2010
Someday
I am not meant to be kept in a cage.
To repeat the same routine.
And all I want is to break free.
Maybe someday, maybe someday.
Maybe someday I will really be free.
To repeat the same routine.
And all I want is to break free.
Maybe someday, maybe someday.
Maybe someday I will really be free.
23 June, 2010
Who wouldn't stand inside your love?
If you look to your right (and scroll down) you will see something new. Oh yes, my friends, that is what you think it is. I've held off on that awful twitter thing for so long, but it all came to an end because of that damn Mighty Boosh. I noticed on their twitter they were in New York City a few days prior to me seeing the "tweet," premiering a documentary that was made about them called, Journey of the Childmen: The Mighty Boosh on Tour. It was then that I decided I will NOT be out of the loop ever again, and got myself a fancy little twitter. So yes, I blame The Mighty Boosh. I WILL see them in person at least once in my lifetime, and hopefully I wont miss out again.
So the whole Mighty Boosh obsession came back after I dream I had about, who other than, Noel Fielding. My subconscious mind is obviously still a fan girl. In the dream Noel, Julian Barratt (Howard), Corey (I think it was Corey), and I were eating at some sort of diner. I was sitting next to Corey at first, but slowly gravitated towards Noel as our conversation become more in depth. We were discussing his artwork, and artwork in general (I think). I'm pretty sure at one point we started talking about vegetarianism (I just recently read somewhere that he's a vegetarian... who knows if that's true).
Anywayyy, much like every dream I ever have, somewhere during it there was a creepy house and a body of water. The spiritual part of me feels like there has to be some sort of reason behind this. For a few years now every single dream I have consists of those two things. Sometimes they are in different forms, for example, the body of water could range from an ocean to a stream, and the creepy house could be a mansion or just a shack in the woods. But despite the form, they are always there.
I tried looking it up, but it's all pretty vague. Here's what www.thecuriousdreamer.com had to say about the water thing:
A body of water such as an ocean, lake, etc. can represent:
A house, apartment, flat, or any place of residence often represents you or your life, even if the dream residence does not resemble your actual residence. The events in the dream residence may represent events in your life. A house can also represent security, comfort, protection, familiarity, or belonging.
Also consider the mood and condition of the house (a dreary house might represent depression or sadness, a house with missing windows might represent personal boundary issues, etc.) and anything that particularly stands out about the house.
Well, the water one is pretty vague, and almost every dream symbol website has vague answers, but the house one I can see. The condition of the house I'm in is usually abandoned, messy, dark, and I always have an overall feeling of dread... Which, according to the paragraph above, means I'm depressed...
OR... dreams could just be dreams and not have any sort of meaning at all. I just find it odd that I've dreamt about the same things for years now....
So the whole Mighty Boosh obsession came back after I dream I had about, who other than, Noel Fielding. My subconscious mind is obviously still a fan girl. In the dream Noel, Julian Barratt (Howard), Corey (I think it was Corey), and I were eating at some sort of diner. I was sitting next to Corey at first, but slowly gravitated towards Noel as our conversation become more in depth. We were discussing his artwork, and artwork in general (I think). I'm pretty sure at one point we started talking about vegetarianism (I just recently read somewhere that he's a vegetarian... who knows if that's true).
Anywayyy, much like every dream I ever have, somewhere during it there was a creepy house and a body of water. The spiritual part of me feels like there has to be some sort of reason behind this. For a few years now every single dream I have consists of those two things. Sometimes they are in different forms, for example, the body of water could range from an ocean to a stream, and the creepy house could be a mansion or just a shack in the woods. But despite the form, they are always there.
I tried looking it up, but it's all pretty vague. Here's what www.thecuriousdreamer.com had to say about the water thing:
A body of water such as an ocean, lake, etc. can represent:
- The context of your life—meaning the setting and situations within which the your life takes place—"your world"
- The unknown or a huge, deep area that you feel holds secrets
- Satisfaction or quenching
- Ability to adapt or accommodate, as water assumes the shape of its container.
- Pervasiveness or ability to have far reaching effects, as water naturally flows and spreads into its surroundings
- Water that is flowing or changing shape can represent change, transformation, or movement forward in the dreamer's life—possibly out of the dreamer's control
A house, apartment, flat, or any place of residence often represents you or your life, even if the dream residence does not resemble your actual residence. The events in the dream residence may represent events in your life. A house can also represent security, comfort, protection, familiarity, or belonging.
Also consider the mood and condition of the house (a dreary house might represent depression or sadness, a house with missing windows might represent personal boundary issues, etc.) and anything that particularly stands out about the house.
Well, the water one is pretty vague, and almost every dream symbol website has vague answers, but the house one I can see. The condition of the house I'm in is usually abandoned, messy, dark, and I always have an overall feeling of dread... Which, according to the paragraph above, means I'm depressed...
OR... dreams could just be dreams and not have any sort of meaning at all. I just find it odd that I've dreamt about the same things for years now....
15 June, 2010
What if all the world you think you know is an elaborate dream?
I was stuck behind a school bus today. I was driving back to work from my lunch break, and it was like fate itself wanted to help me procrastinate. It was one of those bus routes where they stopped at every single street. Normally I would be annoyed, but since I was on my way back into cubicle hell I looked at it as a little bit of a blessing. Remember that feeling of stepping off the school bus? For me it was usually a good one, a freeing feeling, especially during the warmer months. It's kind of how I feel when I get into my car after work, though not as strong.
But now-a-days I find myself unable to be as excited for anything as much as I was. Every time I think about that I'm reminded of a scene in Knocked Up where the main character is talking to his baby-mama's brother in-law about his kids. The two guys are sitting in a park watching the kids play with bubbles and the brother in-law says something about how he wishes he could be as excited about anything like his kids are about bubbles. That's exactly the way I feel.
I remember seeing Orgy for the first (and only) time. I honestly don't think I have been more excited for something in my entire life thus far. I was about to see my favorite band ever LIVE, in person. I was sharing the same room with five guys I knew a ridiculous (and somewhat embarrassing) amount of information about, men that I basically worshiped. I was so excited when they took the stage my heart could have burst. Now fast forward from then to a few years ago. I was standing in line on the tour bus that held two of the former members of Orgy. One of those men being Amir Derakh, one of my personal musical idols, and both of those men being the reason I decided to pick up a guitar in the first place. I was leaning on their tour bus about to speak with them face to face, and all I could think about was how much more excited I should have been. My 14 year old self would have been crying, but the 22 year old woman could only manage an excited smile. Don't get me wrong, I am so, so happy I had the chance to talk to them, hug them, and see for myself that they were actual people... but the lack of excitement for the whole situation was pretty shocking to me.
Every time I go to a concert, am about to meet someone famous, do something crazy that I've never done before... I'm never as excited as I should be... as I WOULD HAVE been. Which always begs me to ask the question... Why? What is wrong with me? I miss being overly excited. I loved that feeling. Is this just a sign that I'm slowly becoming more apathetic as time passes? Is this what adulthood is supposed to feel like because I don't like it. I feel like life is beating me down into mental submission.... like I have to be somewhat numb to be able to get through the rest of it. Perhaps it's pessimism manifesting itself in a different way... Sucking every positive thought or happy action right out of my head... Reminding me subconsciously that nothing really awesome happens to me...
....Oooor maybe I'm reading WAY too much into it. Either way, I should still probably try to work on that pessimism thing.... and that depression thing... so I can maybe start to feel the excitement in life like I used to.
But now-a-days I find myself unable to be as excited for anything as much as I was. Every time I think about that I'm reminded of a scene in Knocked Up where the main character is talking to his baby-mama's brother in-law about his kids. The two guys are sitting in a park watching the kids play with bubbles and the brother in-law says something about how he wishes he could be as excited about anything like his kids are about bubbles. That's exactly the way I feel.
I remember seeing Orgy for the first (and only) time. I honestly don't think I have been more excited for something in my entire life thus far. I was about to see my favorite band ever LIVE, in person. I was sharing the same room with five guys I knew a ridiculous (and somewhat embarrassing) amount of information about, men that I basically worshiped. I was so excited when they took the stage my heart could have burst. Now fast forward from then to a few years ago. I was standing in line on the tour bus that held two of the former members of Orgy. One of those men being Amir Derakh, one of my personal musical idols, and both of those men being the reason I decided to pick up a guitar in the first place. I was leaning on their tour bus about to speak with them face to face, and all I could think about was how much more excited I should have been. My 14 year old self would have been crying, but the 22 year old woman could only manage an excited smile. Don't get me wrong, I am so, so happy I had the chance to talk to them, hug them, and see for myself that they were actual people... but the lack of excitement for the whole situation was pretty shocking to me.
Every time I go to a concert, am about to meet someone famous, do something crazy that I've never done before... I'm never as excited as I should be... as I WOULD HAVE been. Which always begs me to ask the question... Why? What is wrong with me? I miss being overly excited. I loved that feeling. Is this just a sign that I'm slowly becoming more apathetic as time passes? Is this what adulthood is supposed to feel like because I don't like it. I feel like life is beating me down into mental submission.... like I have to be somewhat numb to be able to get through the rest of it. Perhaps it's pessimism manifesting itself in a different way... Sucking every positive thought or happy action right out of my head... Reminding me subconsciously that nothing really awesome happens to me...
....Oooor maybe I'm reading WAY too much into it. Either way, I should still probably try to work on that pessimism thing.... and that depression thing... so I can maybe start to feel the excitement in life like I used to.
14 June, 2010
Slacker
So that whole updating regularly thing? Not so sure that's going to happen. I have such a hard time thinking about what I should write about on here. I'm not so sure what I want to share with the general public, and that's the primary reason for my hesitation. I have yet to find any privacy settings on this site, and every time I think about writing in my livejournal I suddenly feel 16... and angsty. I think that's what livejournal is supposed to do to you... and I'm not sure I like it.
Anywayyyy... here's a little update:
Summer has begun, and that makes me a happy panda. I'm so excited to do everything summer related, but haven't really had the time to enjoy it yet. I've been playing shows non stop since the end of May so my entire schedule has revolved around that. This past weekend was the first time in a while where I had nothing to do and nowhere to be... and oh yes, I was very lazy. I have a good excuse for my laziness though... it was rainy... And who wants to do summery things in the rain? Not this girl. I also think I might be getting sick because I slept 90% of the weekend away and was still tired. Excuses aside, I can't wait to get into full summer mode. Carnivals, amusement parks (even though I don't participate in the rides I still like the atmosphere), lakes, hiking, the beach, summer shows (local and national), swimming, canoeing, biking, the lake house, bon fires... oh yeah... and VEGAS.
Summer and the end of spring are my second favorite times of the year... a close second to the beginning and middle of fall (which I'm also very much looking forward to). For some reason, those whole chunks of the year always cause me to reflect upon my life. I become very contemplative and sometimes over analytical of everything, not that I'm not like that ALL year long, but during this time it's amplified. Maybe it's the leftover Pavlov effect on my brain, every year right around this time I was set free from the binds of school life and was able to enjoy almost 3 months of freedom. The first sight of green and nice, warm weather instantly sends my brain into slacker mode, into flight mode, constantly scheming up ways to find some sort of freedom from the robotic, monotonous working world. But no. I'm stuck. Held back by that horrible, HORRIBLE thing called responsibility. Sometimes I wish my parents were rich. My Daddy (or Mommy) takes care of me and buys my house... and my car... and all my pretty things... and like a little Paris Hilton, I could just sit back, relax, party, and travel. But instead, I was taught responsibility.
At this point, I've pretty much come to terms that I'm stuck in the working world for (at least) 40 more years. Though part of me is hoping that it wont be this hard, boring, monotonous, and at times STUPID, forever. I want to find something that doesn't feel like work, but don't we all. I'd like to think that it's not completely impossible. Ideally, I'd really like this music thing to work out... but if it doesn't I'd like to be doing something else that I at least enjoy. Designing is okay, but I do not understand how people do this for a lifelong career. I've only been in the business for almost 5 years and I'm almost completely burnt out. Maybe it's the job. Maybe if I had something else I'd have this amazing flow of creativity return to me. But as for right now, I'm running on empty... running on creative fumes... and it's actually pretty upsetting.
So what in the HELL am I going to do? This is my current dilemma. And I'm hoping to find a solution to this very, very soon.
Anywayyyy... here's a little update:
Summer has begun, and that makes me a happy panda. I'm so excited to do everything summer related, but haven't really had the time to enjoy it yet. I've been playing shows non stop since the end of May so my entire schedule has revolved around that. This past weekend was the first time in a while where I had nothing to do and nowhere to be... and oh yes, I was very lazy. I have a good excuse for my laziness though... it was rainy... And who wants to do summery things in the rain? Not this girl. I also think I might be getting sick because I slept 90% of the weekend away and was still tired. Excuses aside, I can't wait to get into full summer mode. Carnivals, amusement parks (even though I don't participate in the rides I still like the atmosphere), lakes, hiking, the beach, summer shows (local and national), swimming, canoeing, biking, the lake house, bon fires... oh yeah... and VEGAS.
Summer and the end of spring are my second favorite times of the year... a close second to the beginning and middle of fall (which I'm also very much looking forward to). For some reason, those whole chunks of the year always cause me to reflect upon my life. I become very contemplative and sometimes over analytical of everything, not that I'm not like that ALL year long, but during this time it's amplified. Maybe it's the leftover Pavlov effect on my brain, every year right around this time I was set free from the binds of school life and was able to enjoy almost 3 months of freedom. The first sight of green and nice, warm weather instantly sends my brain into slacker mode, into flight mode, constantly scheming up ways to find some sort of freedom from the robotic, monotonous working world. But no. I'm stuck. Held back by that horrible, HORRIBLE thing called responsibility. Sometimes I wish my parents were rich. My Daddy (or Mommy) takes care of me and buys my house... and my car... and all my pretty things... and like a little Paris Hilton, I could just sit back, relax, party, and travel. But instead, I was taught responsibility.
At this point, I've pretty much come to terms that I'm stuck in the working world for (at least) 40 more years. Though part of me is hoping that it wont be this hard, boring, monotonous, and at times STUPID, forever. I want to find something that doesn't feel like work, but don't we all. I'd like to think that it's not completely impossible. Ideally, I'd really like this music thing to work out... but if it doesn't I'd like to be doing something else that I at least enjoy. Designing is okay, but I do not understand how people do this for a lifelong career. I've only been in the business for almost 5 years and I'm almost completely burnt out. Maybe it's the job. Maybe if I had something else I'd have this amazing flow of creativity return to me. But as for right now, I'm running on empty... running on creative fumes... and it's actually pretty upsetting.
So what in the HELL am I going to do? This is my current dilemma. And I'm hoping to find a solution to this very, very soon.
10 May, 2010
Positive Thought of the Day #1
Right around the time when I first started this blog I was at the peak of my weight gain (rounding the corner of 140). I remember making a goal that by the time I went to London I wanted to be back down to 118. Well, I never made it to London, but currently that is how much I weigh. For the first time in a very long time I'm starting to accept my body. I've been working pretty hard, especially the past month or so, to get myself in some sort of shape and to try and be more active. When I stepped on the scale Saturday I couldn't have been more proud of myself. Now comes the hard part, NOT gaining anything back. I'm not one of those girls who can eat/(not) do whatever she wants. A couple of bad eating days and I can gain 5 pounds like THAT. My ultimate goal is 110, but for now I'm definitely proud that I've made it this far.
07 May, 2010
Here Comes the Sun
There are few things in this world I love more than lying out in the sun, staring towards the sky, smelling the scent of freshly cut grass and things cooking on the grill, and feeling the cool breeze surround me. No matter what kind of mood I may have been in prior to that moment, it is quickly replaced by the most amazing feeling of calm... Zen.... happiness. If I could somehow live constantly in those moments I would be a very, very happy lady.
I know I'm of negativity, but starting now, I'm going to attempt to shed some of the pessimism that clings to my mind like a parasite.
A while back, my aunt and mom got into that "The Secret" craziness. They bought me the book to read, but I couldn't really handle it. I don't usually do too well with the whole self help book thing. More often than not, I get a quarter of the way through it and decide that it doesn't apply to me... Or in the case of my anger management book... it just made me more angry (because it was a terrible book with terrible advice, written by awful therapists). "The Secret" was too culty sounding to me, but I guess I can apply the ideas to my new found optimism. For those of you who don't know, the book explains that if you think positively (and truly believe it), positive things will happen to you. And, like the movie What the Bleep: Down the Rabbit Hole (awesome movie, watch it), it kind of holds you responsible for the (negative) things that happen in your life. I've always had a hard time accepting that... and I still do. I mean, how can I seriously bring all that negativity on myself? Am I like a force field? Is "god" or fate (or whatever the hell ultimately created the universe) doing it just to spite me? My theory on being pessimistic has always been if you never think anything good is going to happen to you, you wont be disappointed. But you know what? Even though I already assume the worst, when the worst actually happens, I am still disappointed... So I guess I have a serious flaw in my theory here.
I honestly want to believe that good things will happen to me, but when I'm constantly disappointed it's hard to see the positives. But at the same time, I do have a lot of great things in my life, and good things have actually happened to me... My pessimism actually bothers people, which I don't want to do. So I guess now is as good a time as any to start adding some more optimism into my life. I don't think I'll ever shed ALL my pessimistic views, but it would be nice to be slightly less cynical.
I know I'm of negativity, but starting now, I'm going to attempt to shed some of the pessimism that clings to my mind like a parasite.
A while back, my aunt and mom got into that "The Secret" craziness. They bought me the book to read, but I couldn't really handle it. I don't usually do too well with the whole self help book thing. More often than not, I get a quarter of the way through it and decide that it doesn't apply to me... Or in the case of my anger management book... it just made me more angry (because it was a terrible book with terrible advice, written by awful therapists). "The Secret" was too culty sounding to me, but I guess I can apply the ideas to my new found optimism. For those of you who don't know, the book explains that if you think positively (and truly believe it), positive things will happen to you. And, like the movie What the Bleep: Down the Rabbit Hole (awesome movie, watch it), it kind of holds you responsible for the (negative) things that happen in your life. I've always had a hard time accepting that... and I still do. I mean, how can I seriously bring all that negativity on myself? Am I like a force field? Is "god" or fate (or whatever the hell ultimately created the universe) doing it just to spite me? My theory on being pessimistic has always been if you never think anything good is going to happen to you, you wont be disappointed. But you know what? Even though I already assume the worst, when the worst actually happens, I am still disappointed... So I guess I have a serious flaw in my theory here.
I honestly want to believe that good things will happen to me, but when I'm constantly disappointed it's hard to see the positives. But at the same time, I do have a lot of great things in my life, and good things have actually happened to me... My pessimism actually bothers people, which I don't want to do. So I guess now is as good a time as any to start adding some more optimism into my life. I don't think I'll ever shed ALL my pessimistic views, but it would be nice to be slightly less cynical.
29 April, 2010
Like an apple.
The older I get the more bitter towards society I become. It's getting to the point where I'm not even surprised by the things people do or say. Not too long ago I would have been appalled by the actions of so many of the people in my life, but not anymore. The only way to survive the disappointment is to learn to never expect anything from anyone. People are selfish. They are too lost inside themselves to even begin to think about the emotions of others. Every so often you find one of those selfless people, but they are a dying breed. They too are being corrupted by the heartlessness of society and will soon shrink back into their own bodies and protect what they know can't hurt them. Remember the phrase, "treat others as you wish to be treated?" No? Oh, yes, that would explain a lot... This phrase needs to be studied and repeated over and over and over again by a big handful of the people out there. That is how I had decided to live, but now, after so many times of having my heart snapped in half by the people I have gone out of my way for, I'm starting to pick and choose who deserves that kind of treatment. I've been fooled by a great number of people into thinking that their feelings are genuine... that they would do anything for me. But when that time comes, where are they? They are doing whatever best suits their own needs and I am nowhere to be found.
When Corey and I first got together I was taken back by how bitter he was towards other people, but now I completely understand. He would say something negative about someone he was weary about and 9 times out of 10 he was dead on. I used to think I was an excellent judge of character, but now I see how flawed that kind of thinking was. And as pessimistic as I found Corey's views on people, it unfortunately proves true most of the time.
It's sad when you think about it. The good ones are so few and far between, so how do you know who you can trust? It's terrifying. I'm so tired of giving my all to people who could give less than a fuck about me, but how am I supposed to know who's going to appreciate the things I do? I'm so concerned about what people think about me. I hate to be known as a bitch, so most of the time I try to prove to people that I'm not, but why do I care? I try to help people out, I try to show people that they are cared about, and in return I get excuses. I get ignored. I rarely get the respect back that I give out and it's exhausting.
I'm in the process of reprogramming my brain. Instead of feeling bad about something I have done (or not done), I think about what that particular person has done to me and I try not to care. I find it extremely sad that apathy has become my ultimate social goal. It's depressing to think that my usual "thinking the best of everyone" attitude is turning into being overly skeptical and pessimistic towards every new (and old) person I meet. Is this necessarily the right path to take? I think I need to find some sort of middle ground before I build up a huge shell again and become this bitter mess of a person. I'm just so tired of being disappointed... So, so tired of rude, selfish assholes....and I just wish this world wasn't as disgusting as I hoped it wouldn't be.
When Corey and I first got together I was taken back by how bitter he was towards other people, but now I completely understand. He would say something negative about someone he was weary about and 9 times out of 10 he was dead on. I used to think I was an excellent judge of character, but now I see how flawed that kind of thinking was. And as pessimistic as I found Corey's views on people, it unfortunately proves true most of the time.
It's sad when you think about it. The good ones are so few and far between, so how do you know who you can trust? It's terrifying. I'm so tired of giving my all to people who could give less than a fuck about me, but how am I supposed to know who's going to appreciate the things I do? I'm so concerned about what people think about me. I hate to be known as a bitch, so most of the time I try to prove to people that I'm not, but why do I care? I try to help people out, I try to show people that they are cared about, and in return I get excuses. I get ignored. I rarely get the respect back that I give out and it's exhausting.
I'm in the process of reprogramming my brain. Instead of feeling bad about something I have done (or not done), I think about what that particular person has done to me and I try not to care. I find it extremely sad that apathy has become my ultimate social goal. It's depressing to think that my usual "thinking the best of everyone" attitude is turning into being overly skeptical and pessimistic towards every new (and old) person I meet. Is this necessarily the right path to take? I think I need to find some sort of middle ground before I build up a huge shell again and become this bitter mess of a person. I'm just so tired of being disappointed... So, so tired of rude, selfish assholes....and I just wish this world wasn't as disgusting as I hoped it wouldn't be.
20 April, 2010
U-Turn
I had originally started this blog as an outlet for creative thought. It was supposed to be a place for well thought out, nicely written entries and not so much for bitching or telling you about my day. Unfortunately, since I'm trying NOT to bitch, I never blog... and I feel like not writing at all is probably not a good thing for me. I already feel like my brain is on vacation... like I'm on auto pilot... so I'm going to slightly alter the direction of this blog. Back to bitching and daily updates we go, my friends :)
Alright, so with the above paragraph being somewhat of a disclaimer, I shall begin...
After reading my past blogs I toyed with the idea of going back to livejournal. It was actually really interesting being able to go back and see what was I doing or thinking about years ago. Even though most of my entries made me look completely stupid and naive, it was still fun to read. So I started thinking about THIS blog... when you go back and read some of these if only gives you a vague idea of where I was or what I was thinking about. My future self wouldn't really be reminded of where EXACTLY my head was at. I'm still weary about publicly displaying my thoughts. Livejournal has a lot of privacy settings, and I really don't think blogger has any. Not only that, but who the hell cares what the fuck I'm thinking? Who actually REALLY reads this? And why do I feel the need to blast my emo-ness over the internet? The answer, I have no idea. It actually makes me feel like kind of an attention whore... which isn't my intention at all. I know that next to no one reads this, ESPECIALLY if the entry is long (which this one will be)... but for those of you who do I want you to be able to get me and hopefully understand what goes on inside my head. Does that even make sense? Doesn't that make me MORE of an attention whore? Probably... but whatever.
I just recently celebrated my 24th birthday and I think that has sent my head into an almost-quarter-of-my-life-crisis. This growing old thing is scary. Birthday's are starting to become more of a burden than something I look forward to every year. After I hit 25 I really don't have anything else to look forward to. Next year I'll be able to rent a car and my insurance will go down.... Wow. I'll be a full blown adult. TERRIFYING! My whole life has been this big rush to grow up, but now I find myself wishing that it was somehow possible to go backwards... or stay stagnant. Lucky for me, I can still fool people into thinking I'm 16, but not my head... my head knows.... and my head thinks I'm stupid and old.
I feel like I passed up so many opportunities in order to push myself faster into adulthood. Instead of attending a "normal" college I chose the fast track. Senior year of high school hit and I decided school just wasn't for me. The laziness started to set in, but my art teachers convinced me to at least do SOMETHING. All the years prior I was SO SET on going to REAL college... attending the four years and emerging with a bachelors.... but no. Instead I found McIntosh College, a little gem of a non-existent school that was in Dover (Yes that's right kids, my fake little school doesn't even exist anymore). It was fast, I didn't have to take math, my best friend could come with me, and I'd be done and working in no time. THEN it seemed like a fantastic idea, but NOW I want to go back in time and punch me in the face. I look at where my sister is now (at PSU) and I would KILL to be able to go back and choose a similar path. When I was up for her birthday in October and went to the parties it made me sad that I essentially passed all that up so my ass could sit in a cubicle. Good decision, Sam... good job. In my freshmen and sophomore year I was set on going to school in Boston... in junior year I was all geared up to go to NHIA in Manchester... but somehow I ended up in Dover, New Hampshire, going to a "fake" wannabe of a college... and got my associates in 15 months. I often wonder how different things would have been had I chose to actually (wo)man up and go to real college. I probably would have had a great time. I probably would have actually made friends in REAL college instead of the 10 people that I somewhat talked to but now don't exist to (with at least one exception) at McIntosh. But I digress, the past is the past and there is really nothing I can do to change it now... It just frustrates me seeing how much I get in my own way.
I've come a long way since high school and college. I am so completely different from who I was. Some of that is good, and some of it is bad. I'm so much more open minded to things. I'm WAY more social and not as ruled by my fears. But I am such a lazy piece of shit. Once I was in a "real" job I gained 15 pounds. Even though I lost it (though NOT in a healthy way at first), it has taken me until this year to really get my shit together and realize I need to be more active. Not only have I become physically lazy, I've become mentally lazy too. I feel like a LOT of this has to do with my ongoing battle with anxiety and depression. I get into moods where I just don't want to function... where I really want to turn of my head and sit by myself. Sometimes I get into such a hermit mode, answering a text message becomes overwhelming. Most days I just force myself. I force myself to talk to people, to hang out, to be normal. It's not even that I don't like the people I'm talking to, it's just that I don't want to do ANYTHING. I used to write all the time. I'd play guitar every single day... and years ago I actually had a sketch book that I drew in every day! Now I just sit and think about doing it. I complain to myself about how lazy I'm being, but then I continue to do nothing. The only reason I still continue to write occasionally is because of my band... thank god for that... but I used to do things just for me. I used to write poetry, songs, short stories, and I had even started working on a play. Now... it's nothing. It's simply ideas that stay locked in my head that maybe someday I'll write down on paper. I've had a book idea sitting on my brain for YEARS now. I've mentally written the first few sentences hundreds and hundreds of times. I've changed the plot, thought about the research I'll have to do to make it accurate, but still... years and YEARS later... it sits as simply an idea.
I need to change. I don't want to keep repeating the same cycle of me regretting all the things I DIDN'T do. I need to stop making excuses and just do something, ANYTHING, that I used to really enjoy doing. I don't want to be in my 30's and think about all the time I've wasted in my 20's. I don't want to have another entry 10 years from now still bitching about the same things. Ugh... I will... and I think working through my depression will help get the ball rolling.
Alright, so with the above paragraph being somewhat of a disclaimer, I shall begin...
After reading my past blogs I toyed with the idea of going back to livejournal. It was actually really interesting being able to go back and see what was I doing or thinking about years ago. Even though most of my entries made me look completely stupid and naive, it was still fun to read. So I started thinking about THIS blog... when you go back and read some of these if only gives you a vague idea of where I was or what I was thinking about. My future self wouldn't really be reminded of where EXACTLY my head was at. I'm still weary about publicly displaying my thoughts. Livejournal has a lot of privacy settings, and I really don't think blogger has any. Not only that, but who the hell cares what the fuck I'm thinking? Who actually REALLY reads this? And why do I feel the need to blast my emo-ness over the internet? The answer, I have no idea. It actually makes me feel like kind of an attention whore... which isn't my intention at all. I know that next to no one reads this, ESPECIALLY if the entry is long (which this one will be)... but for those of you who do I want you to be able to get me and hopefully understand what goes on inside my head. Does that even make sense? Doesn't that make me MORE of an attention whore? Probably... but whatever.
I just recently celebrated my 24th birthday and I think that has sent my head into an almost-quarter-of-my-life-crisis. This growing old thing is scary. Birthday's are starting to become more of a burden than something I look forward to every year. After I hit 25 I really don't have anything else to look forward to. Next year I'll be able to rent a car and my insurance will go down.... Wow. I'll be a full blown adult. TERRIFYING! My whole life has been this big rush to grow up, but now I find myself wishing that it was somehow possible to go backwards... or stay stagnant. Lucky for me, I can still fool people into thinking I'm 16, but not my head... my head knows.... and my head thinks I'm stupid and old.
I feel like I passed up so many opportunities in order to push myself faster into adulthood. Instead of attending a "normal" college I chose the fast track. Senior year of high school hit and I decided school just wasn't for me. The laziness started to set in, but my art teachers convinced me to at least do SOMETHING. All the years prior I was SO SET on going to REAL college... attending the four years and emerging with a bachelors.... but no. Instead I found McIntosh College, a little gem of a non-existent school that was in Dover (Yes that's right kids, my fake little school doesn't even exist anymore). It was fast, I didn't have to take math, my best friend could come with me, and I'd be done and working in no time. THEN it seemed like a fantastic idea, but NOW I want to go back in time and punch me in the face. I look at where my sister is now (at PSU) and I would KILL to be able to go back and choose a similar path. When I was up for her birthday in October and went to the parties it made me sad that I essentially passed all that up so my ass could sit in a cubicle. Good decision, Sam... good job. In my freshmen and sophomore year I was set on going to school in Boston... in junior year I was all geared up to go to NHIA in Manchester... but somehow I ended up in Dover, New Hampshire, going to a "fake" wannabe of a college... and got my associates in 15 months. I often wonder how different things would have been had I chose to actually (wo)man up and go to real college. I probably would have had a great time. I probably would have actually made friends in REAL college instead of the 10 people that I somewhat talked to but now don't exist to (with at least one exception) at McIntosh. But I digress, the past is the past and there is really nothing I can do to change it now... It just frustrates me seeing how much I get in my own way.
I've come a long way since high school and college. I am so completely different from who I was. Some of that is good, and some of it is bad. I'm so much more open minded to things. I'm WAY more social and not as ruled by my fears. But I am such a lazy piece of shit. Once I was in a "real" job I gained 15 pounds. Even though I lost it (though NOT in a healthy way at first), it has taken me until this year to really get my shit together and realize I need to be more active. Not only have I become physically lazy, I've become mentally lazy too. I feel like a LOT of this has to do with my ongoing battle with anxiety and depression. I get into moods where I just don't want to function... where I really want to turn of my head and sit by myself. Sometimes I get into such a hermit mode, answering a text message becomes overwhelming. Most days I just force myself. I force myself to talk to people, to hang out, to be normal. It's not even that I don't like the people I'm talking to, it's just that I don't want to do ANYTHING. I used to write all the time. I'd play guitar every single day... and years ago I actually had a sketch book that I drew in every day! Now I just sit and think about doing it. I complain to myself about how lazy I'm being, but then I continue to do nothing. The only reason I still continue to write occasionally is because of my band... thank god for that... but I used to do things just for me. I used to write poetry, songs, short stories, and I had even started working on a play. Now... it's nothing. It's simply ideas that stay locked in my head that maybe someday I'll write down on paper. I've had a book idea sitting on my brain for YEARS now. I've mentally written the first few sentences hundreds and hundreds of times. I've changed the plot, thought about the research I'll have to do to make it accurate, but still... years and YEARS later... it sits as simply an idea.
I need to change. I don't want to keep repeating the same cycle of me regretting all the things I DIDN'T do. I need to stop making excuses and just do something, ANYTHING, that I used to really enjoy doing. I don't want to be in my 30's and think about all the time I've wasted in my 20's. I don't want to have another entry 10 years from now still bitching about the same things. Ugh... I will... and I think working through my depression will help get the ball rolling.
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