Wow bro

I was such a whiny little bitch when I first started this blog, it’s hilarious. Let’s all pretend that everything that was written from 2013-backwards just doesn’t exist shall we. I’m too lazy to go back and privatize/delete everything.

Here’s a picture of Bunche Beach that I took in Ft. Myers a couple months ago during our trip to Florida, since I’ve been sitting here dreaming of warm wet sand and quiet waves. I can’t wait for it to get properly warm in New York, lord.

 

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Writing is the free therapist that we all have

After a ridiculously long hiatus of sorts, I find myself coming back to my second love…writing. My first love was books of course, what with the vast adventures you can have from the comfort of your warm blankets and soft lighting. But ever since I learned how to put letters into words and words into sentences, writing came as naturally to me as breathing. When other kids were struggling to make up all the words for the 500 word essays assigned to us, I was struggling to condense everything I had to say into the maximum allotted. Which is not to say I was (or am) a good writer, because I am not. Not even a little, or in any sense of the word. I just throughly enjoy it, and I have never had a problem putting my jumbled thoughts into (mostly) readable writing.

I didn’t completely stop over the last couple of years of course. There is a plethora of unfinished, un-posted, rambling posts that have been saved. There are various journals, slips of paper, post-its, and backs of envelopes that have a few lines here and there of my thoughts. And most recently, my Happy Planner has been occasionally filled with musings, goals, and things I noticed and found funny and/or notable. But all this time I’ve still somehow felt like I’d shoved my writing under a table and hadn’t looked at it in a while. I was an active blogger all through my teenage years, it was my outlet to the teenage angst and depression that I was in at the time. That was my main medium. For years I wrote articles, posts, and stories. Built up a tiny bit of a following, made some friends through it, and it made me happy that people (even a small number of people) found me interesting enough to subscribe. Then all of a sudden, I stopped.

I tried to get back into it after a bit of course. I privatized my old blog and created a new one (this one) to start afresh, and did get around to posting a few things here and there. But generally, I just couldn’t do it. I felt dumb and ridiculous and my mind kept saying “oh stop it, why would anyone want to read your rants and stupidity anyway.” So I stopped, and the more I neglected blogging, the more I felt distanced from that part of me. Thinking of sitting down and typing something out, or writing something out, gave me more anxiety and guilt than anything else.

Since I haven’t really writing anything, my mood and personality has gradually changed. I’ve lost feeling of contentment in my life. I’ve become dissatisfied with my thoughts and who I am. My mind feels jumbled and unfocused and I find myself keeping busy with watching TV or immersing myself into conversations with people about their lives. Mine is something I don’t want to talk to people about, mainly because I feel that if I haven’t sat down and rationalized things myself, what on earth am I going to tell people. I’ve shoved my feelings down and it’s made me a miserable person.

In retrospect, my anxiety and depression have probably been legitimate problems, a fact that my own brain couldn’t (and mostly still can’t) handle accepting. I’m a Psych major (as laughable as most people find that, I actually love Psychology and intended to become a Psychologist, but thats a story for another day) and even after learning and knowing the symptoms and whatnot I kept saying to myself that there’s no reason for me to be sad and scared and dissatisfied with who I was. That my mild to moderate panic attacks over small things weren’t really panic attacks. That the feeling of a weight being on my chest and the feeling of doom and unhappiness were ridiculous, and that I was being such a selfish stupid girl for feeling like that when there are so many people suffering from real problems all over the world. Objectively, I know that thinking like that was/is unhealthy, and that it probably stopped me from seeking help when I needed it most. But I kept saying to myself if I could just bring myself to write what was happening in my head, I’d feel better.

After accepting it was happening, seeking a bit of counseling, and starting to journal properly again, I’ve surprisingly been feeling better. I’ve managed to get a lot of my feelings down on paper, so I can visually look at them and start to work through them. And after coming to terms with a lot of things, I finally summoned the courage to write and post this.

I need to get over my fear of getting back into this. I need to allow myself to feel confident and sure in what I have to say, even if it is irrelevant to most people. I need the comfort of writing again. While I am a very spiritual girl, and my relationship with God is my greatest comfort, writing needs to be a part of my life again. And as ridiculous as it sounds, the only medium that has ever truly worked for me is a blog. So here I am. Regardless of who, if anyone, reads any of this ever…it is going to help me to heal and become completely comfortable with who I am again.

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I only barely proofread this post, which should bother me but surprisingly it doesn’t. I feel so happy at the prospect of blogging about my comically normal and boring life. I can’t wait to be me again.

I’m not entirely sure what is up with this site…

Despite my best intentions, I have not written on here as often as I’d planned to originally. Nonetheless, I have over 700 “follows” on this blog. I haven’t the faintest idea how this is even possible, although I’d like to think that the majority are perhaps “bots” or so. Either way, for those of you who have read, followed, and/or commented, thank you very much for your feedback. 🙂 It is much appreciated and I absolutely adore the lot of you.

Since I’m here, I figure I might as well say a few things that have been on my mind. For one, I am in disbelief as to how much has changed since the last time I did write. The first half of 2014 is more or less over, we only have the month of June left until it reaches the exact center. For the first time in a long time however, time hasn’t necessarily flown by as in other years. Perhaps this can be chalked up to what has been one of the most interesting experiences in my life thus far.

Long story short, I met a guy. A guy who, over the course of almost 5 months, has managed somehow to begin to worm his way into the crevices of my long protected heart. His life and family situation is incredibly complicated, and his living arrangements are not exactly ideal. He has a tendency to believe he’s the best thing to ever be born for a while, and he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t necessarily believe in wooing a girl. However, he’s beautiful. He has an adorable smile and bright, friendly eyes. As gooey as it may sound, holding his gaze is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever experienced. We share so many of the same values and priorities in life. We have similar modes of emotional expression and have well thought out debates and discussions about issues that interest both of us. We can talk for hours and poke fun at each other and are both hesitant to hang up afterward. But we’re not romantic in the way you’d think would be romantic. For us, the romance is subtle. It’s a long distance relationship, so our occasional “I miss you’s” speaks volumes. And the few times we have been in each others company has been full of less conversation and more enjoying the company and presence of the other. He’s as dedicated to his faith as I am, and that alone was reason enough for me to give him such a chance from the very beginning.

I know this may seem ridiculous, but we’re engaged to be married in December. Our religion and culture leans away from frivolous relationships and emphasizes taking things seriously from the beginning. The first two and a half months of our conversations were no where near frivolous. We’ve discussed topics that most people don’t start talking about until far into a relationship. I don’t feel rushed. I feel comfortable with the idea of marrying him. It should be noted that I can’t honestly say I’m in love with him, although that is very very near to changing. It’s like a quote from one of my favorite fanfictions (I ship Dramione…yea I know go away) by author “Bex-chan”

It struck her then, as hard as thunder and as soft as lullabies. She was falling. Not yet love, but kissing the seams.

I feel like this short, terrible post has not even begun to do justice to everything. But perhaps I will explain things more later on. As things have settled and I am able to articulate what is happening to my heart just a little better.

Ha ha. Me. Being speechless and unable to articulate feelings. 2014 really has been a very different year.

One of those ambiguous, slightly irritating posts

Can I just say how very hurtful it is to me when I try so very bloody hard to accomplish something, to make a difference, and I’m shot down by the people that matter most to me?

Perhaps this particular situation may be perceived as insignificant and petty by any outside viewer, so I’m not even going to bother explaining. But it’s something that has increasingly bothered me and made me extremely frustrated. 

You know how it is a generally understood concept that young adults wind up feeling lost unless they can do two things…form significant romantic/other relationships with others, and find some kind of way to make a tangible difference. I can safely say I haven’t really managed either. Never mind the relationship bit, the people who I care most about seem to find it impossible that I should ever make any sort of difference in anything on my own. 

I have no idea why, I mean I consider myself a relatively ambitious and talented person. If I do say so myself. 

*sigh. 

Teenagers are hilarious. They are also very sad creatures.

Also, my completely shit internet service is my official cause of failing at NaBloPoMo. I barely manage to get coursework in on time weekly, much less decent blog posts on a daily basis. 

Moving on from my never-ending failures in life. 

My dad insists on tiling/fixing the bedroom that my sister and I share. So over this lovely Thanksgiving weekend, instead of joining the rest of America in overindulging in soul food and hitting the malls from midnight, I have been attempting to take EVERYTHING out of that room and pack it into boxes/neat piles. Mind you, that room has 16-17 years worth of crap from two girls (moved in 17 years ago, sister wasn’t born until almost two years later). We’ve thrown out very little over that time. From toys, to clothes, to books that I can’t bring myself to let go of. It is Saturday and I haven’t finished a quarter of the work (that has to be done by Monday). 

I did manage to get all the books out. In doing so I found a journal that I kept when I was 16. It’s both laughable, and deeply sad to read all at once. Apparently, instead of worrying endlessly about boy drama and gossip as most teenagers do, I cried over worry for my family. Some of it is just ridiculous, from worrying my parents would divorce to worrying about my younger brother’s developmental health (maybe taking Psychology in highschool wasn’t the healthiest thing for my own mental health). But some of it was completely dead on, like my worry over my sister. It gives me heartbreaking shivers to read some of my little accounts of her behavior. I wish to kick myself for not realizing something was wrong sooner. I also wrote a lot about how being 16 just sucked, and many of my entries were written around 2 or 3 in the morning due to my seemingly endless insomnia issues. I wrote mini poems and song lyrics, hinting at the fact that maybe I wanted a boyfriend too. Someone to hold my hand and tell me they loved me. 

It’s funny because I never think of myself as having been a typical teenager, but evidently the terrible rush of hormones and misery hit me just as hard. Instead of rebelling and whining verbally about all my teenage angst though, I just had a grand old time pushing them all down until they manifested themselves in insomnia and general unhappiness and paranoia. 

About a half way through that journal the entries abruptly ended, and I have no recollection of why I stopped writing. I only know that a while later I wrote a last entry. I was 17 (a month shy of 18), and much much happier. I had a bit of a cry when I read the last bit, and this is what it said:

“I’ve learned a few main lessons this year. Enjoy the good moments, smile through the bad. Ignore the ignorant people. And remember that life isn’t about finding yourself, it’s about creating yourself. I’m happy and excited for my future. Alhamdulilah. And if the world ends in 2012…that’s okay too.”

It’s hard to think that just months after I wrote that, our family was to be tested with trials that I have absolutely no idea how we managed to get through. I guess I’m stronger than I gave myself credit for. It is incredibly lovely to think that whatever I may be going through now will one day be looked back at from a much brighter perspective. 

I plan to destroy the entries. I’ve already ripped the pages out. You may ask why, and my answer is that after reading them once I don’t think I want to again. Too much happened right after, and I don’t want to ever have to think that maybe if I wasn’t so self absorbed about my stupid feelings I might have realized quicker that something was about to happen. I know deep down that it’s not my fault, but I don’t want to leave option for that idea to ferment. I’ve read them and took positive messages from them. That’s all I think I need.

Also, I kind of don’t want anyone to ever read them. Ever.

My family has a habit of reading my journals for kicks. Which I think has influenced my lack of journal writing as of anytime recently.

Now, I have 4 math assignments due tonight, a room to empty, and more memories to find.  

Why in god’s name does yesterday’s post say Nov 12th?

That’s kind of counterproductive don’t you think? Sheesh. I know for a fact that I posted it way before midnight too. Get your shit together wordpress.

Everyone has been all uppity about the whole 11/12/13 deal today, except of course in the rest of the world today is 12/11/13…so we all just look more like idiots when we have people going ballistic about how “OMG it’s not gonna happen for another hundred years” (every date is like that. fools.) But then, I suppose everyone else will do that too when next month comes and it’s 11/12/13 in the rest of the world (and of course, 12/11/13 in the U S of A because we cool like that).

I have a feeling my punctuation sucks balls today, but I couldn’t really be bothered.

The Harry Potter Alliance had a fundraiser a little while ago called Equality FTW in which they managed to raise over $100k in about a month’s time. I donated to them (because it’s a freaking awesome cause) and didn’t bother selecting a perk (which for those of you who have been living under a rock, is a new-ish phenomenon of organizations giving something back to those who donate to their cause, everything from wrist bands to online shout-outs to personalized phone calls.) And THEN I saw that Alex Day was signing pages of Twilight (or in his lovely terminology, shitelight) and offering them as perks and I was like, kheretakemymoney. Long story short, I received the thin envelope today completely baffled as to what could be inside. I found a pretty postcard from Hermione Granger (HPA is so adorable) and the LAST PAGE OF SHITELIGHT SIGNED BY ALEX DAY.

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Gosh I love that boy. I really do. He’s the epitome of ridiculous awesomeness.

Speaking of ridiculous awesomeness, I also received my latest Amazon steal.

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Is that not the most fantastic keychain ever? I was giddy when opening the package. Took forever to get it on my keys, but I managed.

Anyway, it is the end of a pretty good day. Tomorrow I have a review for a math test that will determine whether or not my GPA will go up at all this semester. Fun times.

Losing your streak kind of kills the flow

I’ve spent my entire day off accomplishing absolutely nothing. It’s a bit sad that the holiday that’s meant to honor those who served has turned into a breath of relief for most students at getting a day off. In any case, I’d like to say Thank You, to all who have served for our country.

I really have nothing much else to say. And even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to articulate it because I’m actually in the middle of the first episode of Downton Abbey. It’s hard to write when you’re so wrapped up in another story. I also watched two episodes of the absolutely shit show Under the Dome, and I intend to buy and read the book because I’m sure it’s a million times better than the show. But then, most books that have been taken to the screen are.

My internet service decided to screw me over

If you recall, I said the other day that I had a lot of work due this weekend. I didn’t intend for it to impact my post for yesterday, but thanks to AT&T’s shit internet service, I had to pick one over the other. I spent all day (literally, from 9 am to 11 pm) begging my internet to work. It worked in 10 minute increments, so I’d do quarter of an online worksheet, hurry and save it, then wait for the internet to work again half hour later. Needless to say, I barely finished on time, and I also ruined my chances of passing my science class with an A. It’s kind of hard to understand things when you have a few moments to read the question, answer, and save it. 

You may ask why I didn’t go someplace else with decent Wi-Fi, and my answer is that I couldn’t. With my mom and sister out of town, dad preoccupied with some family drama, and younger brother busy playing NBA2K14, I had to be around to keep an eye on my baby brother. I had faith in the bloody internet and it screwed me over, messed up my perfect NaBloPoMo streak. Damn you AT&T. We’ve called them a ridiculous number of times. They come, fix it, and it works for a week. 

Whatever man. I’ll just blame my crap GPA at the end of the semester on them. That’s all. 

While my sister watches “Nikita”…

Netflix is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it allows you to watch a ridiculous number of things at your leisure for less than what most people spend on fast food in a month. A curse, because oh my god…when you discover a new show and you watch all the seasons in a week, and your brain becomes numb and you’re unable to rejoin the world properly at the end of it…that is horrible. Thankfully, it’s only happened to me once, and it was before we got Netflix. Legend of the Seeker was the best thing to ever happen to television, and I have no idea how it wasn’t popular enough to not get cancelled.

My sister on the other hand, gets warped into the Netflix-itis thing rather frequently. She’s discovered and watched the entirety of Gossip Girl, Pretty Little Liars, The Lying Game, and a whole lot of other stuff. that Netflix has to offer. Right now, she’s been watching Nikita for the past few days. I think she’s watching one of the season finales’ right now. She literally takes breaks only for showering, bathroom, and eating (and only because my mum threatens to hide the PS3 controller). God. Nikita is an awesome show in it’s own right, but it unsettles me somewhat. Anything involving secret government doings makes me nervous, which is why I have such a huge love/hate relationship with stuff like The Hunger Games and Divergent series’. As amazing as they are, it’s hard to imagine yourself in those situations and consider what you’d do.

Today’s BlogHer prompt was “Tell us what you’ve learned so far about daily blogging”.

I’ve learned that my life is incredibly dull.

*cue Superwoman accent voice* JUST KIDDING (although, in all fairness, it is)

I’ve learned that while it is incredibly difficult to stick to something regularly, it’s also very rewarding to look back and say with satisfaction that you’ve done something like this. For instance, I’ve always meant to journal daily, but always would up doing it in irregularly spaced intervals (every two days, then a week would pass, etc.) and I’d get so frustrated with myself and give it up. To be able to say that I’ve managed to blog daily for a full week is a decent accomplishment for me. I’ve always felt that writing is very beneficial to your mind, and I always do it. Even if it’s on trashed scraps of paper (or unsaved notepad/notes documents). This is an effort to put it together, with at least mediocre grammar and whatnot, and publish it somewhere where it will be organized and reasonably accessible to random people & people I wish to share it with.

I sincerely hope I manage to finish NaBloPoMo flying high. Here’s to commitment, writing, and personal growth.

“We like to be right, so that we can feel good”

I nearly forgot about writing anything today. If not for my set reminders on my laptop, I would have showered and went to sleep, flowing into blissful nothingness. Today was a ridiculously long day. I’ve yet to decide if taking social psychology in a 8 week term was a fantastic idea or a dreadful one.

The major reiterated theme of social psychology, is evidently “We as humans do things for primarily two reasons: We like to be right, and we like to feel good. We don’t like being wrong, because we would feel bad if we were wrong, and we don’t like feeling bad.” In all the classes we’ve had so far, we’ve always come back to that. As my prof said, we’re going to be having nightmares about that rule. It’s a fairly easy, and very interesting class (and I LOVE my professor), but the class times are so long (2 hrs and 15 mins). As easy as that seems, I have another 1.5 hr class right before this one, and mornings are so not my thing.

I have no idea how I’m going to fare at the higher university level, where I’m sure average class times hit 3+ hours. I have the attention span of an insect, unless I’m reading something. In which case I can sit for hours and forget that time exists.

Speaking of reading things, I recently found out that the local bookstore near my house is going out of business. Which means everything in there is 30-50% off, until Feb 2014 when they close. The lady in there said that now’s the time to stock up, and I intend to do so (my mom is not at all pleased at the idea of a big book sale, because she’s already upset that I have as many as I do).

As the character Alaska said in John Green’s book…she has that many books so that she’d always have something to read.

It is quite sad to think that they’re going out of business though, as they’ve been in business for 27 years. Ah well. In these times, I’m not that surprised. Ebooks have seriously hurt the “real” book business. And big franchises like Barnes and Noble tend to take the business away with their cafes and fanciness.

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I’ve now been called “fat” by every member of my family (I’m not fat by the way, I weigh less than even the borderline weight for my height and age).  It has irritated me to the point where I’ve been working out for 15-30 minutes every day this week. Maybe that’s not exactly healthy motivation, but it is working. If something works, we shall leave it at that.