You're Not Alone

"I guess it's because we all want to believe that what we do is very important.
That people hang on to our every word, that they care what we think.
The truth is, you should consider yourself lucky if you even occasionally get to make someone, anyone feel a little bit better." - Scrubs


I have a love/hate relationship with Scrubs. If someone were to ask me if I liked the show I couldn't give a definite yes or no answer. I think it's stupid 90% of the time, but every single time it's on I'll watch it. And then every so often the writers show their diversity and write something amazing like the quote above. I believe it's one of the closing lines from the season finale. I remember watching it for the first time and hearing this quote, and immediately identifying with it. I quickly jumped on youtube so I could play the video over and over again in order to write it down. 


I think this is true for most people, but especially for me. I have a natural urge to be a nurturer, I want to be that person people can come to with their problems. I want them to see me as someone that can make them feel better, whether that be because I was their shoulder to cry on or because I offered them some sort of comforting advice. I don't do it because I expect something in return, I do it because I want people to know that I genuinely care, and that their happiness genuinely matters to me. 


For a long time, and even still, I thought my true calling was to be a therapist. Growing up with a therapist for an aunt probably aided in this. She's taught me coping tools, offered her psychoanalysis, and has been subconsciously training me for my entire life. I've been that person (some) people could turn to for a long time, and I've been told me that I'm "just so easy to talk to" so I assumed a therapist was a natural choice for me. My psychology class in high school was one of my favorite classes, and in college my psychology book was the only book I would read more than I was supposed to. I even pulled it out to read on my own on a few occasions. 

But it wasn't until my early 20s when that dream died. I became friends with a girl who had some emotional baggage (whom I am no longer on speaking terms with). Of course, I wanted to be there for her. I felt that innate urge to fix her life, but after a while it became evident that I could do nothing for her. She would call, I would listen, she would ask what to do, I would give her advice and she would ignore all of it. Soon it just became emotionally draining to be "that person" for her. Despite my best attempts to help her she only sunk deeper and deeper into depression. It started to effect me. I started to become annoyed by her lack of motivation to change herself, and ended up just having to cut her out of my life completely. It was then when I came to the realization that I couldn't be a therapist. I'm sure most clientele are people like her, people who refuse to change what they are doing despite it being the path that leads to recovery and a happier, healthier life. There will be people I cannot help, and with her being the first friend I really couldn't reach at all, and seeing how much that took a toll on my own sanity I decided to just give up the dream. 


But I still have that urge to help, and along with that, I have this desire to just make a difference in the world. I feel like I'm meant to be rich just so I can give money to charities, give my family and friends all the material things they could possibly desire, build homes for people in need, pay for health care for those who really need it, and start an entire slew of animal shelters and rescues. I want to go to third world countries and volunteer my services to help anyone, human or animal, in need. 

Every time there is a natural disaster I just want to do something, anything to help. When the BP oil spill happened I immediately looked up ways to volunteer to help the animals. When the earthquake in Haiti happened I gathered up canned goods and clothing that someone was supposed to come a collect so it could be sent down there (the girl flaked and it never happened). And now with the horrible things that happened (and are still happening) over in Japan, I'm ready with a bag of clothes to send over as soon as I get the word that that's what they need. Before I moved out on my own, I would always do those "Christmas Angels" thing in the mall, and I would buy everything that was asked for even though they don't expect you to. And even though I never got to see the children open what I bought, I always imagined how happy they must have been to have received everything they asked for. I knew I would never get a "thank you," but I did it because I wanted to share that happiness with someone else. 


This is also why I want to write a book, and why I wanted to be a singer. When I retire, I fully plan on writing a memoir. I've thought about doing it now, but I want to live and experience a little more before I put it into full swing. I'm going to call it, "Everything Will Be Okay" and it will basically be a collection of stories about how I overcame my anxiety and depression (and boyfriends, and adulthood, and life in general). I want to write a book as a person who lived through it, someone who isn't a therapist, just to show people that they aren't alone. To show them that there is at least one other person who feels/felt the way they do. This is also somewhat of the reason why I have this blog. I write about my pains, my fears, my struggles to show others that I'm human and I'm probably going through the same mental struggles they are. Everyone just wants to know they are not alone, and I like being that person to show that you're not... you're never alone.


Even with my rockstar dreams quickly fading, my desire to be a message of comfort is one of the reasons that keeps me going with music. I've been told that most of the things I write are sad and depressing. My guitarist once told me that one of my songs made him want to kill himself (said in as positive a way that it possibly could have), and I once attempted to write a love song that quickly turned into something that sounded more like a "please don't leave me" song instead. But that's just how I write. I can't write mindless happy drool that I don't feel connected to, I write with meaning. There is passion behind every word I place on the page, and that's the only way I can do things. I want people to be able to identify with my words. I want my songs to be those songs you play to make you feel something. I've always loved when people tell their favorite singer that their songs "saved their life." I couldn't imagine a bigger form of flattery... and that's something I've always been striving for. I want to be there for people that I've never even met. To mean that much to a stranger, or to anyone for that matter, is quite possibly one of the best feelings in the world I imagine. 


I guess what it comes down to is that I want to matter. I want to be remembered as someone with a big heart, someone full of compassion. Hopefully someday I can figure out how to "save the world" in my own little way. I don't need to be world famous, but I want people to know they cared about, whether I know them or not. Making people happy, that's what keeps me happy.

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.

Jaiden Tlapa

About a year ago, The Cabinet started covering a story of a little girl who was critically injured by falling off her deck and into a snowblower. Don't directly quote me on this, but I am fairly certain that's what happened. My co-worker and I both started following this story. At that point, we had a hand in putting the paper together, so we were able to read the newest story every week. Unfortunately, she lost the fight and died from her injuries. She was 8 years old.

Friday I was reminded of this horrible accident when, in my pile of ads, I discovered I had the memorial ad for her. Immediately I thought, Oh god... I HATE doing memorial ads because I am a ball of emotion all the time. The first one I had to do back in 2006 made me cry for at least 15 minutes after I typed it all out. It's strange, but this little girls ad felt almost personal to me. Even though I had never met her, or her family, I still felt some sort of connection. I wanted to make this ad beautiful, I wanted the family to look at it and think what a nice job that designer did... I wanted to somehow convey to that family that I was pulling for her too, and that I have them and her in my heart. It was a very simple message, stating that the family is still thinking of her and will love and miss her always. I couldn't make it look exactly how I wanted since it was a small ad, but I tried. The only thing they wanted in it was a dragonfly in flight. I found a cute cartoonish one, but I felt like I needed to do something more personal, so in the flight lines I created, 2 of them are conviently create the shape of a heart. It didn't turn out as I wanted it to, and I don't even know if they'll be able to tell, but I really hope they do.

I couldn't imagine how this family feels. The unimaginable loss, the hurt, the guilt. How do you ever heal from something like that? She was so young, so full of life, and it was all cut short by one accident. I don't know her, I don't know her family, but every time I hear her name or am reminded of this story I can't help but fight back tears. I wish that somehow there was something I could have done, though obviously there was nothing. I will probably never talk to this family, but if by some small chance they come across my blog I want them to know that my heart goes out to them. And that even though she might not be here in body, in spirit and memory Jaiden lives on forever.