The Agnostic Struggle with Religion

I don't believe in God, and I'm not sure I ever really did. When I was younger I would pray. My prayers were for silly things like, "Hey God, if you're real can you help me find this thing I'm looking for?"

I never took religion seriously, and neither did my parents. I knew they had both grown up religious. My mom and aunt attended Catholic school, and the only stories I remember hearing were about the terrible things the nuns said and did (like telling my 7 year old aunt that she was going to hell). But we never really discussed religion and or talked about God.

When I started making friends, I noticed many of them would go to church. This seemed like a fun thing to do, and I wondered why we never went. I asked my mom about church and God, and her response was one of encouragement. She wanted me to discover my own religious identity. She told me to go to church with my friends, and gave me a bible to look through. I did end up going to church several times, both Catholic and various Christian denominations, but mostly I was just... bored.

Once I knew what "atheist" meant I decided I was one of those. I couldn't ever quite grasp the concept of God; some strange dude sitting in the sky controlling, and listening to, everyone and everything. The older I got, the more passionate I became with my atheism. Religion seemed horrifying to me. How can people believe these stories? How can they deny scientific evidence? I saw the negatives - the hatred and the wars. I couldn't get behind something that has killed so many people over such a long period of time.

I did try, very briefly, in high school to become Wiccan. This was short lived. I never really believed in spells and all of that. It was just fun, and I liked the idea of worshiping the earth. And perhaps a little part of calling myself Wiccan was for shock value. I was a goth-child after all. 

Long after high school (and college part 1), I started dabbling in some sort of spirituality. My aunt was interested Buddhism, so I decided to look into it. I loved everything I read. It seemed more of a way to deal with depression rather than a religion. However, the reading was dry, and I never fully committed myself to it. I decided to downgrade my atheist title to agnostic. I wanted to be more spiritual, and being spiritual did not mean I needed to believe in a Christian God.

About two years ago now I started college part 3. My university is a Catholic one, and this scared me a bit. It was required of me to take 2, TWO, religion classes. This seemed pretty terrible. I had this image of a nun, habit and all, standing at the front of the class with a ruler yelling at me for being a horrible, sinner, non-believer. I imagined the battles I would get in to with all the other religious people in my class. I dreaded my religion classes.

As a way to avoid any potentially heated Catholic/Agnostic debates, I tried to take the most liberal sounding religion classes. Someone in one of my psychology classes had recommended taking Death and Dying - as it is helpful for people learning the therapist/social worker trade - so I decided to take it.

As the time to start drew closer I found myself getting excited. I felt ready to learn. My mind started opening to the idea of it because of all the psychology and social work classes I had taken. Religion plays such a great role in many peoples lives, and can be a great coping mechanism. I decided in order for me to be a good therapist/social worker, I needed to learn all I could about religion so I can effectively help people with a variety of religious backgrounds.

Unfortunately, my teacher in Death and Dying was pretty awful. The class was 100% online, and she was not an active teacher. I'm almost positive she set up the course and never looked at it again. We were required to read passages in the Old Testament and then talk about them in a journal. I found this extremely difficult because I was not familiar with the language nor the stories. I would reach out to her to clarify things (many of my journal entries started with, "I did not understand the passage but..."), but she never answered. This was very frustrating because I really wanted to learn something.

My second religion class was absolutely amazing. It was called "Faith, Religion, Theology" which made me nervous at first. I figured this would be the aforementioned nun scenario for sure. But on the first day, I walked into a class with this wonderful older gentlemen who exuded an almost ex-hippie-like demeanor. He was not preachy, in fact we never cracked open a bible. The book we read was called The Power of Myth which is a transcript of a PBS special Joseph Campbell did with Bill Moyers. It covers all religions, how they started, and even likens the various stories between them. The book is cheap, and I highly recommend reading it - religious and non-religious people alike!

I had (have) nothing but admiration for my teacher. He is brilliant, and well traveled. He never told us exactly what he believed, but he did such a fantastic job explaining all the different religions to us. Any question we had, he knew the answer and had a story to share. This is what I was looking for in a religion class.

So last spring, I needed to pick my final classes. After finding my required classes, I had one elective left. I scanned the schedule for interesting classes (read: easy classes). I needed something that wouldn't be too much work, but would still hold my interest. The pickings were slim, but I was happy to find World Religions on the list (with the very same teacher as Faith, Religion, Theology). Now, had this been 10 years ago, I would have cringed at the idea of taking a religion class, never mind an extra religion class. But this is what I picked. And this is the class I'm currently in, and it is fascinating!

I've learned a great deal in just 8 weeks. We studied: Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and two small units on Daoism and Confucianism. Many of the religions just flow together. Judaism lead to Christianity, Christianity lead to Islam (believe it or not!), and Hinduism lead to Buddhism. Hinduism is insanely confusing, but interesting. Islam is actually a lot like Judaism and Christianity (it's the extremists that give it a bad name much like any other religion).  Buddhism has a billion different sects, does not believe in a God, and pulls a bit from Daoism and Confucianism depending on the region. And, unfortunately, not one of them put women in high regard (even though women play a large role in most of them) - not even my beloved Buddhism.

As you can gather from my opening line, I have not necessarily been swayed, even with all my newly acquired knowledge. However, my thirst for learning religion grows. Instead of looking at religion in a negative way, I'm seeing it in a much more positive light. I see the good it does for so many people. The hatred and the wars are a horrible and unfortunate side effect, but I can finally see and understand why people believe the things they believe. I've even become envious of those who do. I would love to believe, but I can't. It's just not written in my DNA. All I can do is learn, and that is more than enough for me. The fact I'm even wanting to learn is a feat in and of itself.

Another "side effect" of all this knowledge is I've found myself getting angry with Atheists. I've always mostly sided with them, as my beliefs are closer to theirs than they are to religious individuals. However, I've seen atheists be downright mean to people. They berate religious people for believing in what they believe. I can understand this to a point, particularly when a religious person is being pushy, hateful, or ignorant. But in most other scenarios I think it's counterproductive, and frankly hypocritical, for an atheist to make people feel bad for believing what they believe. Yes, some of the stories are completely ridiculous, but if believing those stories isn't hurting anyone then what's the harm? There's no reason to make anyone, regardless of religion, feel bad for believing, and there is also no reason for anyone to push their own personal views on anyone else.

So through all this spiritual discovery, I've created my own ideas. "God" (to me) is the universe... which I suppose makes science my Jesus. I do not believe there is some physical being who decides my fate and the fate of the world. The universe creates us, it kills us, and while some sort of afterlife sounds lovely, I don't believe there is anything after we die. Our energy leaves our body and becomes part of the universe again. I do sometimes "pray" which means I try to send out messages of positivity in hopes good things will happen, but I'm not positive there is any point to doing so other than making myself feel better.

We all want to know why we're here. We want to think we are here for a reason, that our lives have a purpose. Death is terrifying, and we struggle to find a meaning for it, and what lies beyond. Is the Christian God the actual God? Is Islam the right religion? Or is there really nothing and Atheists are the ones on the right track? The fact of the matter is we will never know who is right and who is wrong. There will never be anything definitive telling us what to believe.

If this is the only chance we get, if there is no God and no afterlife, then what we do now is of the utmost importance. Do what makes you happy, but not at the expense of others. Believe in whatever you want to believe in, but never judge another for what they believe. Promote peace and love, and work to extinguish hate. All these things, more so than religion, are the most important practice.

“When you find yourself in one of those mystical/devotional frames of mind or in an emergency and you feel you want to pray, then pray. Don’t ever be ashamed to pray or feel prevented by thinking yourself unworthy in any way. Fact is whatever terrible thing you may have done, praying will always turn your energy around for the better.
Pray to whomever, whatever, and whenever you choose. Pray to the mountain, pray to the ancestors, pray to the Earth, pray to the Tao (but it won’t listen!), pray to the Great Mother, pray to Jehovah, Allah, Buddha, Jesus, Lakshmi, Siva, pray to the Great Spirit, it makes no difference. Praying is merely a device for realigning the mind, energy, and passion of your local self with the mind, energy and passion of your universal self. When you pray, you are praying to the god or goddess within you. This has an effect on your energy field, which in turn translates into a positive charge that makes something good happen.”

― Stephen Russell, Barefoot Doctor's Guide to the Tao: A Spiritual Handbook for the Urban Warrior

Diagnosis Unknown

On December 31st I came down with the flu. Fantastic timing really, being the first year I had actually found a New Years Eve party to go to that wasn't at my home. It was only natural my body would decide then was the best time to be the sickest I have ever been as an adult. So, needless to say, I was pretty stoked when my fever quickly climbed from 99 to 102.

I had hoped a nap would make me feel slightly better so I could join my friends and boyfriend at the other party, but no, it became pretty clear to me that would not be an option. Luckily, I have the best friends, family, and boyfriend anyone could ask for...They moved the party to my house so I could be a part of their celebration even if I couldn't leave my room.

On January 2nd I broke down and went to the doctor. I had yet to receive my new (awesome) health insurance card, so I had hoped I could beat this without an office visit. They made me wear a mask, and was diagnosed with the flu. Many prescriptions were written and I was sent on my way.

That evening I was sitting in my living room when I noticed a flashing light in my right eye. "Great," I thought, "Now I'm getting a migraine." I already had a fever, so might as well have a migraine too! I braced myself for the inevitable onset of pain, but it never came. In fact, when I woke up in the morning the next day the light was still there. I called my mom for about the millionth time since I came down with the flu (because seriously, all you want is your mom to take care of you when you're sick, even when you're an adult) to complain about the light. She suggested that maybe it was the medication I was taking and that it would hopefully go away in the next few days. I thought that sounded about right, and patiently waited for the light to go away.

But it didn't. So after my insurance card came (about February-ish) I decided since I have awesome health insurance that I should maybe see a doctor. My first visit was to a new eye doctor (who is great, by the way). He put those crazy dilating drops in my eyes and looked inside.

Which I thought was HILARIOUS.

He told me I had stretchmarks in the back of my right eye, lattice dystrophy, and a vitreoretinal tuft. He told me not to do things where I could hit my head (specifically, no boxing), and that the flashing light should go away in a month. I scheduled an appointment for a month and waited.

Well, it didn't go away. So when I went back to the eye doctor he gave me two potential diagnoses: the first would be an atypical migraine, and the second "way down at the bottom of the symptoms list" would be MS. My heart dropped a little when he said the latter. He said "not to worry," but he was ordering an MRI just to rule it out.

So my next step was the MRI. I met with my primary care doctor (who seemed less than pleased at the possible MS diagnosis) so she could help get the MRI process going. She also scheduled my an appointment with a neurologist (so many doctors).

While I waited for the MRI to be approved by my insurance, I completed (and aced) a visual field test at my eye doctor and was told that it "definitely wasn't an eye thing, and was probably a brain thing."

I had the MRI (was not thrilled about it), and got the results a few days later. The newest diagnosis was a slight chiari malformation (aka a saggy brain as I liked to call it), but NOT MS. So I went to the neurologist who assured me the chiari malformation is SO minimal I would never show any symptoms, and the light was definitely not caused by it. BUT he found something else behind my right eye - possibly a benign tumor (fantastic!). So he ordered another MRI (ALSO FANTASTIC!) to investigate.

So I had the second MRI (And got this cool picture of my brain that refuses to post here for some reason). Oh, yeah, I also got every blood test known to mankind done. And the results? Normal. Everything normal; blood and MRI (with the exception of a slight vitamin D deficiency). I have an asymmetrical something-bone in my skull which they believed was the mass the neurologist found behind my eye.

I am relieved and confused. Because while everything has come back fine and normal, I still have this light, flashing away, in my right eye. Luckily, it doesn't really bother me. I barely notice it if I'm using both my eyes. I started this whole process just to have an answer as to why it would be happening, and here I am months later not being any closer to an answer. Although, on the positive side, I do know I'm tumor and MS free!

I had planned to post this entry since I've kept this whole process on the down-low, but my plan was to post it after they had found out what the problem was. Now that I'm thinking I wont really get an answer, I figured now was as good a time as any to write this. I have a few more things to wait for, as my neurologist seems pretty determined to help get me an answer, but I'm not real confident I will get anything definitive at the point. I'm frustrated and grateful all at the same time, but we shall see what the future holds!

Ha-Ha-Haunted

In the spirit of Halloween I thought I would share with you a few of the experiences I have had with the unexplained. I thought of this idea while watching Ghost Adventures (I'm more of a Ghost Hunters kind of girl, but I needed to watch something scary that wasn't a bad 80s horror movie). It occurred to me that I have a fantastic "unexplained" picture! I thought it would be cool to post the picture along with the story and several other stories of spooky things that have happened to me. However, after about an hour and a half of searching almost every corner of my house - I gave up. I'm pretty disappointed because the picture would add so much to my story, but alas, I must continue without it.

So I will begin with the story of the picture. 

It was the early 2000's. My friends and I had become pretty obsessed with "ghost hunting." We wanted to explore and investigate as many of the haunted places as we could. A few of my friends had mentioned Blood Cemetary in Hollis. Supposedly, it's one of the most haunted cemeteries in New Hampshire, so things seemed promising. Armed with a video camera and several other cameras my boyfriend at the time, sister, friend, and I all took a trip out to Hollis. We decided to go during the day since we tried to go at night once before and were too terrified to even stop the car.

It was a very hot summer day, and at first we were all a little disappointed. Nothing was happening. It wasn't even creepy during the day, but we hoped to maybe get something on film. We tried to provoke any of the energies floating around - telling them to push us over, but nothing was happening. Until, we came to a specific grave. All of us were drawn to one with the name of (if I'm remembering correctly) "Rebecca.". It was strange because all around this grave were these patches of cold air, like air conditioning. There was no breeze, and all four of us felt the exact same thing. We stayed and talked to the grave - even sitting beside it. It was at this point one of us snapped a picture. A little while later, we left.

We dropped off the film to get developed (remember those days?!), and looked at the footage for anything cool. We found nothing - until we got the pictures back. None of the other pictures showed anything except for the picture of us talking to "Rebecca." In the picture there are three of us sitting on the ground. You can see us feeling the cold spot, and right above my friend's shoulder was this bright white orb (dammit I wish I found the stupid picture). It was the coolest thing I've ever seen. It was too big and prominent to be a bug (and if it was a bug, why didn't they show up on anything else). We also weren't using a flash, so I don't have any other explanation as to what it would be.

My other stories all involve my childhood home.

My sister and I had separate rooms, but my room just so happened to have a spare bed. One day, my sister came into my room (she couldn't have been any older than 5) and said to me, "Can I sleep in your room? There are people talking in mine." This was pretty terrifying, so I said yes. She stayed in my room for close to a year after that.

Another incident happened early in the morning. My sister and I were in my room; she was asleep, but I was awake lying in my bed. My mom was taking a shower in the bathroom down the hall. I heard her open the door suddenly and say, "Hello? ... Hello!" I thought it was strange so I yelled back to her. She said, "Did you knock on the bathroom door?" I said no, that I had been laying in bed the whole time. She said, "It had to have been you. You were probably sleepwalking." I did sleepwalk, but I knew it couldn't have been me - I was laying in bed the whole time! She wouldn't accept my answer, so I just let her believe what she wanted to believe.

The strange things in my house got more intense in my teen years. There would be so many times where you would feel like someone was watching you. We had three dogs and sometimes all three of them would stare in the same corner and start barking. I watched things fall down the stairs (which could be explained as things just falling, not supernatural, to look at it objectively), and many of my friends felt very uncomfortable in my house (one had never heard any of our stories).

The best example of my dogs noticing strange things happened pretty late at night. I was on the internet in our computer room. To my right was our kitchen, and past that was our living room. My large, vicious dog was laying in the kitchen when there was a noise in the living room - like a quick bang. We both heard it - he picked his head up and stared exactly where I heard the noise. Then immediately after, there was another bang - this time right behind my dog in the kitchen. He took off and ran upstairs. That scared me, and as I started to get up there was another bang behind me. At that point I ran upstairs into my room probably the fastest any human being could have traveled.

Another strange situation happened again when I was sitting on my computer late at night. I was downstairs in the same computer room when I heard my dad yell, "SAM!" from the top of the stairs. I yelled back, "What?!" Then there was nothing, so I yelled again, "What, Dad?!" I got annoyed and headed to the stairs. When I got there no one was there. I assumed my dad got annoyed and went back to his room, so I went up to their room. Both my mom and my dad were asleep - TV off (they fell asleep with it on) and my dad snoring away. So who the hell called my name?

The last incident before everything seemed to stop was the weirdest one. I hesitate to tell people this because it's pretty weird (and you may judge me), but here we go. I felt like the ghost or energy or whatever was occupying my house liked to mess with me - specifically me. My neighborhood had a theory it was the ghost of one of our neighbors who had committed suicide (my neighbors had similar kinds of ghost stories - one I will share later), and that he would just walk around house to house and freak us out. So on this night - I had, had it. I was in our living room watching TV. It was at night and everyone was upstairs. My mom was the only one awake, and she was watching TV in her room. I started getting the feeling that someone was watching me. Most of the time I would try to brush it off, but this time it was giving me goosebumps. I decided to go upstairs and it felt like it was following me. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I started washing my face when it felt like something poked me. I looked up, wiped my face with a towel, and then I saw it. A mother-effing tissue was being PULLED out of the tissue box. Every so gently I saw it tug once, twice, and by the third time I was so confused and freaked out I started screaming at it. "Stop! Just stop! Leave me the fuck alone!" And it was over. The feeling like someone was staring at me was gone, and I ran to my mom's room to tell her what had happened.

Everything else up until that point could have a reasonable explanation. However, the tissue takes the cake. I didn't touch the tissue box before it started happening, so it's not like maybe it was my fault. It happened completely on its own. I know it sounds out there, but you need to just take my word for it that it happened. Nothing "paranormal" has happened to me since then that even comes close so being as strange.

The last story I will share with you happened while I was babysitting for my neighbors. The parents had gone out for the night, so I allowed all three of the kids to hang out in the den with me to watch a movie (and stay up a little later past their bed time). The kids all had their own stories of strange things happening. The youngest was so scared that I made up a story about how I was friends with the ghosts to comfort him. I told him that since we were friends the ghosts wouldn't hurt him. So, on this particular night, all four of us got into a tickle fight. We were laughing and having a good time until we heard a scream come from the other room. The girls heard it at the exact same time I did. Their faces dropped and the oldest said, "Did you hear that? What was that?!" I lied and said it was me. The oldest was too smart and called me out, but I insisted it was me so the little ones wouldn't be scared. After that, they asked if they could sleep next to me on the couch, and I had absolutely no objection.

So there you have it! My "unexplainable" stories. I don't know with 100% certainty that ghosts are real, but I do know some weird things have happened. However, if we are all made of energy... and energy is neither created nor destroyed, then is it really all that far fetched to believe ghosts could be little collections of energy?

... And I still wish I found that picture.

If you have any ghost storied of your own I would love to hear them!

Being Human.

Twenties have been interesting. And hard. And stressful. But after reading a few other blogs and articles it seems as though this might be normal. I had this image of what a 20-something was supposed to be like. Even entering my 20s I expected a great many things from my future self. Older me was going to have her shit together. All my mental and physical struggles were going to be fixed and figured out! I was going to be awesome! However, I put too much faith into time. In time I would fix it - just give it some time and things will work themselves out. I put some half-assed effort into fixing myself, though that turned out to not be good enough. But a strange thing starts to happen in your 20s - time suddenly doubles in speed. Then after 25 it quadruples. And before you know it you're staring 30 in the face while wondering, "What the hell happened!?"


But seriously, what the hell has happened? I am no where near the person younger me thought I would be - which is simultaneously depressing and relieving (younger me had some stupid ass ideas). I know I've talked about this before on here, I may have even talked this to death, but the journey through 20 has been eye opening. I gain a new perspective with every passing year (or week or minute for that matter). So I feel the need to document and pass on this information.

I know I had said I was no longer going to write in here. I've been going back and forth with this thing for a while. I've been afraid of being judged for putting my depression struggle on display. But I thought about it and decided - I don't care. I almost want people to know because explaining this is real life can be difficult. Especially now when I feel like I'm losing friends because of it.

For a very, very long time now, I've been stuck in a hole. I think I'm looking at 2 years of being in a pretty steady state of unhappiness. I'm not completely sure why - as I've tried changing my environmental stressors quite a few times. Ridding myself of things which cause me an excess of negativity. And for brief periods of time it's caused me some relief - but I still live in this fog. I have this terrible monster looming over me, and a separate one tucked away inside my soul. I can't shake them, and I'm not sure what it's going to take to rid my life of them. To some degree, I think I will always carry them with me - one of the lovely new realizations my 20s have brought me (much to the dismay of my past self who thought it would be over by now). I just need to know how to live like a normal human being while they try to suck the life from my body.

That's what I think I've been failing at - being human. Living like a normal person. I've started avoiding things. Stupid, normal things stress me out. I started coping with this in unhealthy ways - successfully bringing myself a whole new cart of baggage to deal with and sort through.

I don't think it's any secret to most people I've become extremely antisocial. I host parties, yes, but I don't think many people realize this is where I see a pretty large majority of my friends. I've become very good at being a hermit. In some ways, I'm pretty proud of myself - in my early 20s and teens I never wanted to be alone. Now, I am totally stoked to sit at home alone. To go shopping alone. To drive long distances alone (with the exception of my dog's company for most of these things). When the hell did this happen?

However, I attribute some of this to the depression. Everything exhausts me - being human totally exhausts me. Socializing? Oh man. I'm incredibly introverted and shy, and now with the increased depression, using my limited social skills has become quite the task. Sometimes when people ask me to do things, and I've had a particularly exhausting day of battling my monsters, I literally don't have the energy to force myself to be around people. There's a small group who I can just say that to and they understand, but I know after a while of the same excuse people start to question whether or not I'm telling the truth - maybe even start to think I don't like them. This is not the case at all. I'm just exhausted - and have been exhausted for a very, very long time.

I keep doubting myself and have been incredibly mentally self-abusive. The inside monster likes to tell me how awful I am. She likes to remind me on a regular basis that I'm nothing, tells me everyone hates me, and remind me about everyone else who has their shit together. This same monster has made drinking become an issue - as I use it as a social crutch. It has recently come to my attention that I become this monster from time to time. She loves to manifest herself after a few shots. After foolishly thinking I could some how figure out a way to enjoy alcohol and still keep her at bay - I'm finally admitting defeat. I'm failing at being a human - what made me think I could drink like one?

I'm now starting to have to think about school again. I've had a nice long break - which flew by and was barely long enough. I have to keep reminding myself it's almost over. I'm so close to a bachelors. On a positive note, school can be a nice distraction. AND since I'm a human development major (psychology) the coursework can be a fantastic way to learn how to cope with myself (and the monsters).

I enjoy learning - especially this subject - but I often have doubts. I'm terrified of the debt I will have to pay. I'm scared I won't be able to handle the workload in the Masters program that I'll eventually have to enter into - never mind the rest of the workload to get my bachelors. I'm scared I wont like my field just like how I didn't like graphic design (though in my defense I never liked it). I get too caught up in "what-ifs." Sometimes I have to be reminded (mostly by Corey) not to get too caught up in them - but the monsters don't like optimism.

Even though I'm trapped in my own mind, blinded by the fog, and dragged down by my hypothetical monsters - I still feel happy from time to time. Sometimes I just need to be alone with myself for a bit to recoup - to re-energize myself into normal human functioning - which is sometimes why my hermiting is a beneficial thing. I'm trying not to be so reclusive that I lose all my friends, but explaining all this to people (some of whom don't totally understand depression) makes me feel a bit pathetic. And that's how this struggle has made me feel - completely pathetic.

Drown.

Drowning. Drowning in debt, in schoolwork, in emotions. I've just been drowning. The optimism from my last post still floats around in my head; bringing me much needed strength in my time of need. And while I am happier with this new path, I still struggle with the day to day.

I've thought about posting here; especially those nights when I have stressed myself out to the point of just barely suppressing the urge to rip off my own skin. I've gone back and read past entries in an attempt to work up the motivation to create a post, but this has only caused me to question this entire thing all together. Blogging... who does that? Why have I created this public place to expose my fragile emotions? It's almost embarrassing (no, it IS embarrassing).

Yet here I am again, exposing my unstable mind. Admitting to complete strangers, friends, acquaintances, enemies and any random passersby that I'm strange; like my life and thoughts actually matter to anyone other than myself. I confidently boast about goals I have never accomplished, trips I will never take, and for what? To embarrass myself in public? To disappoint my future self? So badly I want to say to you the only reason I write in this is to keep my mind fresh and to practice for the book I dream about writing... But am I lying to you? Intentionally or unintentionally?

School has been both a blessing and a curse. It's still hard to believe I've actually (semi)accomplished a goal I had set for myself since this blog is proof of how many things I let slip into obscurity, but I still question what the fuck I'm doing to myself.

In my 13 weeks of school I've completed two classes, and in two and a half weeks I will be done with two more. Everyone should be required to take at least one social work and (more) psychology class(es). They have been simultaneously eye opening and depressing. I've learned a lot about the world, and people, and depression, and families, and hormones, and all that happy (and not so happy) shit.... and it's made me a bit angry and disheartened with the world and the future.

Most of my school work has been self-reflective and I've discovered a lot of things about myself and my life I have never really let myself accept; one of those things being I am much too open about myself and my feelings... and this usually gets me into trouble. This realization was another reason I chose to look at past entries. It's nice to see what I was thinking. It's nice to see the progression of my writing and mind... but why have I done this in public? I am one of the only people I know who so willingly puts themselves out there for all the world to see, so maybe I should just stop. Maybe I should practice keeping these things to myself.

I want to say this will be my last post, but I've never been good at keeping my word, so I wont lie to you. All I can do is apologize to everyone for my terrible public displays of emotions... and apologize to myself for appearing so... naive... or terrible... or some other adjective I can't articulate.

Reset.

Once you start yourself on a certain path, it can be hard to deviate from that direction. You trudge along day after day, repeating the cycle, doing what you need to do because that's what you've always done. That's exactly what I had been doing since February of 2006. I was fresh out of college, took the next adult step and started on what I thought was going to be my career. I had my associates degree in graphic design, and even though I had decided very early on in school that graphic design was NOT for me, I landed myself a sweet little office job designing advertisements for a newspaper. I took this job because after 2 months of receiving rejection letters I had become very desperate to get the hell out of Sam's Club. So with the offer of a full time position, with benefits, a cubicle, a phone and even business cards (!), I officially became an adult.

The Telegraph was an amazing first job. I made a handful of great friends, some of whom I'm still in contact with, and they put up with my complete lack of punctuality and constant internet usage. But once the lay-offs started my love of the job took a dramatic turn. So I did what every normal adult does, I started applying to other full time graphic design jobs.

Just about four years and thousands of resumes later (I'm probably not exaggerating with that figure), I finally, finally was offered a new job. In November of 2011 I started at what I thought would be my new career path, working in a prepress department at a label printing company. I was so sure this would be a long term thing, but instead of being excited about the position after the first week like I was at The Telegraph, I felt so completely overwhelmed and out of place. It took so much longer to grasp what was expected of me and the atmosphere was completely different. And like I said in my previous post, I quickly decided that job was not for me.

So I did what any normal adult would do (?), I sulked. I fell into the biggest depression of my adult life. I gave serious consideration into running my car off the road, jumping off a bridge, running away, becoming a gypsy, living in a log cabin in the woods, and other various self-destructive, self loathing, unrealistic things. Until one day I thought to myself, Why do I need to keep going on the path I'm on? I decided the only way to change the direction of my sad little life, was to actually change my life.

Obviously, I am in need of a serious career change. The only way to really do that is to go back to school. I tried going back 3 times, only being successful ONCE in 2007 and quickly giving up after the first semester. I religiously stalked the Rivier website. I printed out information, looked at every program that remotely interested me, and after maybe a month of doing this, I came up with a plan. I was going to quit my job and go back to school full time. The only real reason (aside from the money aspect) I've been keeping a full time job is to have health insurance, and when I saw that you could get insurance through the school as long as you went full time, this opened up a new world of possibilities to me.

I played around with the idea for a little while. I brought it up to friends and family, and after getting some support, I decided to contact the school. I set up an appointment, chose a major that I hadn't even thought of as a possibility (I wanted to be an education major, now I'm a psychology major), and waited. All the initial things happened in April, and since then I've been carefully constructing my new life.

I was offered a part-time position at a wedding DJ company as an office assistant, secured my spot back at a part-time job I work on and off at, and up until this point none of this has felt real. Now that I have my books, student ID, folders, pens, highlighters, all the normal school things, it's starting to set in. I did it. I really made it happen. I'm starting my new life.

Tomorrow will complete my first week of a part-time work schedule. Monday is my official first day of school. Am I scared? Yes, absolutely. I've read what's expected of me for these upcoming classes and I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't already feeling overwhelmed. But even with the impending stress of school and the gigantic pay cut, I can honestly tell you that in this very moment I am the happiest I have been in a very, very long time.

The Depression Monster

Like an unwanted friend, it lingers. It clings to every inch of your body, weighing you down like a lead blanket until you're nothing but a pile of useless. You wait for it to leave, but it constantly overstays its welcome and you start to wonder if it will ever leave you alone. So the only thing left is to fight it off, to wage a battle of the mind until finally the horrible weight is lifted. Though you know, deep down, that it will return soon enough.

So if you've been wondering where I've been, or why I've been so distant, or why I seem so... apathetic, it's because I've been here, shrouded in my veil of lead, feeling guilty and frustrated that I've been trapped beneath the weight for so long, and for seemingly no reason.

After my last post, I had quickly come to the conclusion that this new job is pretty terrible. And with that realization the depression really seemed to start settling in. Then, when going back to school was not a plausible possibility, things started spiraling from there.

I felt guilty and stupid for falling in as deep as I did. The depression became so bad that the sheer thought of being in public gave me panic attacks. My daily routine consisted of going to work, coming home, sitting on my couch with my dog, and watching TV until it was time to go to sleep. I drifted from a good majority of my friends, skipped out on parties and group outings, and the one time I tried to drag myself out of the house to go ice skating with a group of my boyfriend's acquaintances I had such huge a meltdown we immediately left and I spent the entire ride home crying uncontrollably.

That instance only added to the frustration of feeling so out of control of my own emotions, and since December I have tried very, very hard to get back into a position of power. I'm significantly more social than I was, and the panic attacks have been subdued, but I can still feel the weight of the monster pressing down upon me.

So what the hell is my problem? I've been asking myself this the entire time, and any real answer I come up with just sounds too selfish or self loathing. I hate, HATE this job. Yes, but most people hate their jobs, some don't have any at all, and didn't I desperately want to get out of The TG? I'm so incredibly broke. But, again, some people literally have no money at all, and the fact that I am in the position I am is no ones fault but my own. I'm 26 and not even remotely close to accomplishing anything I thought I would have by this age. Which, yet again, is no ones fault but my own. Life is meaningless, there is no greater purpose, and we are forced to live lives we hate because society tells us so. Well now that's a little dramatic, and there's really nothing I can do about that other than just dealing with it...

But even though I know I'm being dramatic and self loathing, and that I can't stand to be around myself when I get like this, and all I want to do is to just shut the hell up and get over it.... I'm having a really hard time shaking this state of mind. I have a lot of good things in my life, and despite the negativity that consumes me, I'm still able to see and appreciate that. I'm just sick of always ending up in this same dark place, weighted down by the same blanket of lead, and always having to fight to get myself to be a normal, productive member of society. I want to badly to just BE that person, I just want my life to be easy... But nothing ever is. So the fight will inevitably be continued... possibly forever... and I just need to get used to that before I completely lose myself.