Alone is okay.

les mis.

Sat, 13 Apr 2013 15:55:00 -0700

I am unbelievably miserable. The prospect of graduating doesn’t even excite me at this point because I don’t know what’s next or where I’ll be or what I’ll do when I get there. I’d really just like to run away. It’s not even fear of the future, it’s boredom in the present. 10000000%, not even movies or music or food could make it better, actual, incurable, boredom. Crying helps, but only momentarily. This is a real-life FML situation. I’d say “save me,” but there’s no one here. Never is.

overwhelming faith.

Sat, 15 Sep 2012 00:25:00 -0700

For some reason 2am seems to be my mind’s ideal time to get knocked down by God. I don’t know if it’s because that’s usually when I’m at my calmest (because that’s typically the time I’m getting out of my shower and getting ready for bed)…or what other reason there could possibly be, but on the few occasions that I feel my Faith overflow and overwhelm me, it always seems to be in the middle of the night. Usually I’m watching some random worship cover by various members of The Seeking (like this one or this one), and usually I’ve got something big on my mind that caused me to want to listen to the Jesus music in the first place. Tonight was no different.

Not sure what came first this time, though, the metaphorical chicken or egg. I often find myself ~~thinking~~ worrying about the future, and by future I usually mean not just in life, but mainly in love. I have this friend from a place I used to live not too long ago that is about two years older than me and has one of the most blessed marriages I’ve ever come across and I see the joy in her when she speaks of her husband—and I long for that. Yea, yea, I know, I’m “only 24” and have better, more important things to worry about, but that’s just not the case with me. It’s not like I want to get married tomorrow, but I do have this intense desire to meet this person sooner rather than later. I am so excited to start my life—my real, Faith-filled, loving and loved, “grown-up” life—that I think I’m letting my impatience get the best of me. I have friends of all ages who are married and are either having, or just had their first child, and while I may not be in that much of a rush (although I’m also impatiently excited for that chapter as well), I truly believe that finding this person and beginning our journey together would do wonders for me. Not that it’s all about me, of course. I’m not the type to feel like I need to be in a relationship—in fact I haven’t had a real one in 4.5 years—but my current state of affairs are so dreary that the idea of having someone there—someone truly good for my soul—would be amazing.

Yes, God should be enough, and He is, but it is because of His love—for the LOVE of His love—that I want to find that person I can share it with.

I pray for patience. This is going to be a long ride. I’m sure many nights like tonight—when I feel alive in His presence and want someone to share it with—will come along before I find someone to share it with.

And now it’s past 3am and I’ve had to re-write this twice because of internet issues and although this isn’t as well-executed as my first draft, I feel like I’ve gotten my point across…to myself since I’m the only one who reads this. I really need to get to sleep though seeing as I have a baby shower to go to for one of my aforementioned friends in about 9 hours.

stuck.

Mon, 20 Aug 2012 14:02:00 -0700

about a month and a half ago i reconnected with a friend that i hadn’t spoken to in about two years. we didn’t leave on the best terms, but i’d always regretted losing his friendship. what tore us apart? he was head over heels for me and i didn’t feel the same. i still wanted his friendship, but he couldn’t take that, so he left. and now he’s back. and admitting that his feelings haven’t changed, but claiming that he’ll take me however he can get me. on paper he might seem almost perfect, so i’m not entirely sure why i’ve never felt anything more than the need for friendship with him. quick side note on my romantic past: not to talk up my own likeability or whatever, in fact, i wouldn’t wish this on anyone, but i have been in this position (the one i unlovingly call being the heartbreaker) more times than i can count, and the thought of going through it again with someone again (if that makes sense—it’s happened before where someone “gets over” me, but the feelings come back or maybe never left) is not the least bit attractive to me. people always feel bad for the “like-er” in this situation because they are turned down, but everyone seems to forget that the “like-ee” plays a pretty big role in this too. it takes a lot, unfortunately, for people to be honest about how they feel, and, though i haven’t always handled these situations in the most mature way (like back in junior high when i told someone i had a boyfriend when i didn’t so i didn’t have to actually turn him down), when i have, the “like-er” isn’t the only one left heartbroken. that’s not to say that i assume everyone who “likes” me (i feel like a third grader talking about liking people) is head over heels in love with me, but i’ve had the rare blessing/curse of getting extremely close to people before they admit feelings so they’ve got time to grow into stronger ones. anyway, this situation i’m currently in is killing me. i’ve wanted more than anything (although i can’t use those words with him) to have his friendship back after all this time, but i’m stuck about whether or not i want to risk (really, this is not even a risk, it seems more like an intentional free-fall without a parachute) either hurting him again, myself again, or both, even just by being his friend. this might seem to be an inconsequential, selfishly stupid problem to be complaining about, but not knowing what to do is seriously eating at me. the biggest problem is that if this were happening two years ago with anyone else, he’d be the one i’d be talking to about it.

le sigh.

i wasn't then, but i believe i am now

Fri, 04 May 2012 22:43:00 -0700

five years ago, my then-boyfriend made a realization about our actions that i didn’t fully think was true, but i understood his hesitation to continue on the path we were going on. my relationship with him opened up a door that i didn’t see myself stepping through for at least a few more years. while all we ever did was open it for a peek, that one tiny leap has recently opened a flood gate of feelings that i now realize may have been here all along.

i made a decision years ago that has raised many eyebrows, started a few bets, and has put me at the receiving end of many “but why??” and “wow, i could never do that!” conversations. while i don’t exactly remember what sparked the decision in the beginning, i have, over the past few years, carved out a pretty simple explanation to present to those who have questioned it. i believed in what i was doing with all of my heart, and, because of this, sticking to it was never difficult for me. my door had an unbreakable security chain attached to it.

long after my ex and i went our separate ways, a new dilemma arose and i approached it cautiously. i’d had conversations about it with other people, but never made up my own mind about how i truly felt about it. now that i was faced with it, i felt like it was time to decide. i still haven’t. it has become, like many other things in my life, one of those things that i go back to, then regret, then go back to…many times, with seemingly no end to the cycle. most days, though, i make excuses. i could be doing something worse. i’m just trying to learn something new.

recently, however, i have taken it a step further. that security chain hasn’t been broken, but a few more links have been added to it. the chain is just a little be longer. no intruders can enter, but it has left enough me of me exposed to cause me to contemplate a) its purpose, b) its usefulness, and c) why it’s still there.

this terrifies me.

everything i have known, been protected from, been hurt by, and relied on in my adult life has rested on the existence of this chain.

the liberal side of me is telling me that as long as the chain is still in tact, i am doing alright. the harshly realistic part of me is telling me that whether or not i break the chain completely, its integrity has been compromised, thus rendering its existence pointless. the angel on my shoulder is telling me to purchase a deadbolt. the devil on my shoulder is telling me to grab a screwdriver. or an ax.

the part of me that’s writing this is not sure who to listen to.

i’ve realized that the only people i have dared to have conversations with about this might not be the least biased audience, but if i somehow managed to express my feelings to completely opposite people, i fear i’d run into the same problem.

finding middleground is not easy.

I’m terrified of everything.

Tue, 01 May 2012 22:31:34 -0700

I’m terrified of everything.

thirty days

Sun, 15 Apr 2012 21:19:05 -0700

i’ve been bad about keeping up…so much so that i’m now 11 days behind. maybe i’ll start up again tomorrow. i think i’m afraid of doing day 5. today would have been the perfect day to do it. maybe i’ll say why tomorrow.

nerves

Fri, 06 Apr 2012 17:07:06 -0700

How do you tell someone that they make you nervous without ruining what you may or may not have with them? How do you tell someone something you aren’t sure about? I’ve been trying to work out this conversation in my head for a while now.

Boy?
Claire?
Can I tell you something?
Sure?
You make me nervous.
Why?
Because I have no idea what I’m doing. What we’re doing. Because I have no idea how I feel or how to act or what to do or say and I feel like if I try to figure it all out—which believe it or not is exactly what I’m trying to do right now—I run a HUGE risk of ruining everything.
…
It’s been a long time since I’ve had any semblance of a connection with anyone and to be completely honest, I’m not sure I’ve ever known what to do. So now that I’ve ruined everything, I guess that’s it.
….

This whole thing terrifies me. I can’t even imagine how I’d be feeling right now if I was even actually sure that I had any true feelings at all.

I think I have a problem. I think I think too much.

30 days. Day 4:

Wed, 04 Apr 2012 23:58:25 -0700

04 - your views on religion.

I have struggled with where I fall on the faith spectrum for a few years now. My view on religion? I hate it. I value Faith. I have blogged in the past about it and I don’t think I could speak about it differently than I already have. I was ”raised” Catholic in the way that most people could say they were. They went to a Catholic school, took a class, maybe said the Our Father at dinner. Their faith ended there. If I had to label myself, I’d say I’m a Christian. My religion is Faith. Here’s an old blog decribing my struggle. In short, I do not feel the need to follow a religion led by a man who reads from a book in a church. I do not need a middleman. I believe in God. I believe in eternal life with Jesus, my hero. I believe He made the ultimate sacrifice. I believe we are undeserving. I don’t think that cooking “an animal in his mother’s milk” is going to send me to hell. I’ll wear all the mixed fibers I want. I will love who I want to love, and I believe everyone else deserves the same respect. I will eat meat on Fridays, and I will probably disrespect my parents at some point in the near future. I don’t believe these things make me a terrible person. But I do believe that terrible people exist. Everyone has the opportunity to repent, but I don’t believe that people who have are necessarily better than those who haven’t.

(You said) I know that this will hurt

I am so afraid of letting go of certain labels. If I’m not catholic, what do I say I am? Do I have to say I’m anything? Why am I even scared at all? Why does it even matter? I’ve never been big on religion anyways, so maybe this is my chance to break free of its chains and convert to Faith. I don’t know if I’m more afraid to be religion-less or to tell my church friends that I don’t share their beliefs anymore. I’ve been struggling with this for so long. I feel like I’ve made the right decision for me, but how will I ever truly know what I’ve done is correct? I know in my heart I can’t honestly call myself a catholic, but it’s all I’ve ever known. This is supposed to be a good thing for me—discovering my true faith—but I can’t help but feel like a traitor, like somehow I’ve betrayed all of the people responsible for me having any faith at all. If I’d never gone through all of the retreats I have, I don’t believe I’d have the relationship with God that I do. Up until then going to church and, unfortunately, even believing at all was all by default of going through the private catholic school system. It is not something I regret however, I am the person I am today because of it. I just wish that I didn’t feel the need to fall into one category or another. It’s such a difficult task to be faced with.

5:47 am • 25 October 2010

30 days. Day 3:

Tue, 03 Apr 2012 23:58:00 -0700

03 - your views on drugs and alcohol.

Honestly, I could talk about this one for days. I could probably sum this up in three words with the well-known phrase “just say no.”

Without going into too much unnecessary detail, I decided at a very young age (too young to even really be thinking about it, in my opinion) that drugs were something I would never take part in. My mother had been a drug addict for the entirety of my early childhood (and probably some time before my birth), and though I was thankfully not present, or even aware of it, for the most part, I was old enough by the time it ended to understand everything I’d seen and the repercussions of it all. While the abuse of drugs on my mothers’ part was no where near the mess of things you see on tv and in movies, I really don’t believe it needs to be extreme to be a problem. People often ask how on earth my father got custody of my brother and I at such young ages when 9 times out of 10 the mother does. I could say it was because my father not only had a job, but a well-respected one. I could say it was because some judge decided to give my dad a break. What I will say is that it wasn’t all that hard for us to end up in his hands because she was too busy doing other things. It’s not like we never saw her—I have video proof that when she was with us, she was good to us. But I also have vague memories of being locked in the bedroom of her apartment with my brother while her and all of her friends that were half her age were having quality adult time in the living room. Like I said in the beginning, I could talk about this for days. I’ve seen the effects of drugs and I know that children of addicts either end up one themselves, or, luckily in my case, they end up being advocates against the use and abuse of it. I’m thankful that despite some troubled times, my older brother never dove as deep into them as she did and he is done with them now, and also that my mother has been clean and sober for nearly 16 years.

As for alcohol, it was never something we feared in my household. I have been taking sips of alcohol from both my father and my stepmother for years, but I never felt the urge to drink their easily accessible liquor cabinet dry and refill the bottles with water. I went to a handful of parties in high school where there was alcohol involved, but I had never had enough to even be considered remotely drunk. I’ve had friends who went off the college and drank more in a weekend than I have my whole life and even though most of them were somehow able to keep up their 4.0 GPAs, I know that I probably would not have been so lucky. So I’ve kept my alcohol intake to a minimum over the years. In fact, I’m so unattached to alcohol that for the entirety of my 21st year (actually starting about 3.5 months before my birthday), I stayed 100% alcohol free. My 21st birthday was spent making ice cream sundaes, watching standup comedy, and playing a giant game of spoons with friends. I had multiple people tell me that I was wasting (and sometimes “abusing”) the age, but I find that ridiculous. To say that I’m wasting it would have to disregard the fact that I’d ever had a drop before the day I turned 21. It’s no different than those dumb enough to smoke cigarettes before they were 18 (or really at any time in their life) or to do anything else commonly “accepted” before the legal age to do it. It was my own little stand against holding it at something of even remote importance to me. Aside from the few people who complained (and I wouldn’t be lying if I said they were all younger than me), most people told me they were jealous of my ability to do it and not think twice. Apparently more people are addicted to it then they realize. It’s not like we don’t know that alcoholics exist, but I believe that more people look down on drug addicts than they do alcoholics. To me, they are all the same. The only difference is that in most cases, the drug of choice for drug addicts are illegal. Addicts are addicts though, and even though I don’t believe myself to have an addictive personality, I’m not carefree enough to risk it.

30 days. Day 2:

Mon, 02 Apr 2012 23:23:00 -0700

02 - where you’d like to be in 10 years

I’ve thought about this so many times over the past decade that I’m almost afraid to make another prediction since I’m nowhere near where I’d thought I’d be by now. When I was twenty and thought about being thirty, I saw myself well into my beautiful marriage with all my children already popped out and growing. If that’s still going to be my future reality, then I’d better get moving. 6 years might not being enough time to make that all happen. But I can still dream, right? I might just have to extend those dreams for another decade from now. God, I’d better have my act together by then. Otherwise I might be forced to adopt a few kids and call it a day. Aside from my dream career (another thing I fear daily that I’ll never achieve), being a wife and a mother are two things I want more than anything else. Call me crazy, but even as far back as high school, when I’d find out that yet another classmate got pregnant, a pretty decent chunk of me was jealous that they were becoming a mother. And now that I’m essentially at an appropriate age for the same thing to be happening to me, now that I know five times as many people my age who are married, withchild, or both, my jealously has only deepened. I have a friend who got married early this year and is expecting her first child in about 3 months. I just found out today that another friend who has been married for a few years now is expecting her first child. A couple I knew at my previous school just got married and surely will be thinking about children in the next few years. It might seem like a silly thing to be jealous of at my age, but this is how I feel. I think a part of it might be all the steps you have to take to get there…that might be what I really want. I would love a relationship so solid that it leads to marriage. I want a marriage so solid that it leads to parenthood. So where do I want to be in 10 years? I want to already be well into the beginning of the rest of my life.

30 days. Day 1:

Sun, 01 Apr 2012 22:30:00 -0700

01 - your current relationship status.

Let’s just pretend that it’s still April 1st even though it’s 1:30am. That way I can end this silly thing on the 30th. It still is back home on the west coast. Good. Here goes nothing…

My current relationship status? Single. I’ve been “hanging out” with someone for a few weeks now—maybe even a month—but I honestly have no idea what will come of it. It’s very unlike me to go into something like this without a plan, but I’m trying to just go with it. I’ve never had a relationship that didn’t essentially start when it started, if that makes sense. They’ve usually just kind of happened right from the start. I’ve never been on a real date. I’ve never gone through the traditional dating process where you meet, then you talk, then you go on a date, wait the obligatory 2 days, call, go on another date…

I’d love to, but that’s just not how it’s been for me. Maybe that’s why nothing ever really works out. The best and longest relationship I ever had literally happened overnight. We met, didn’t see eachother for about a week and a half until we went at the same concert with friends, after which we all ended up at his apartment…then I literally never left…

Like I said, I really don’t know what is happening right now. A part of me is curious as to what is going through his mind just so I can stop letting it keep me up at night, but the other part of me is happy having a stress free “situation.” I suppose since I get so worked up about what’s happening that it is not as stress free as I make it out to be, but I’ve got no other way to put it. Plus, I’m a worrier. I’m still working out my feelings and I don’t think I want to get ahead of myself by asking him what his are without actually knowing my own.

This whole process is screwy. I really wish there was someone with all of the answers.

think...feel...act...: a challenge, a journey...

Sun, 01 Apr 2012 22:11:53 -0700

think...feel...act...: a challenge, a journey...:

Alright, Reigel…let’s see if I can make this work.

parchmentandquill:

Okay, so this may be cliche but I don’t really care. I’ve decided to do a 30 day challenge. This might be interesting and definitely would help me to write constantly again. I’ll start tomorrow.

30 Day Challenge

01 - your current relationship status.
02 - where you’d like to be in 10 years.
03 - your views on drugs and alcohol.
04 - your views on religion.
05 - a time you thought about ending your own life.
06 - write 30 interesting facts about yourself.
07 - your zodiac sign and if you think it fits your personality.
08 - a moment you felt the most satisfied with your life.
09 - how you hope your future will be like.
10 - discuss your first love and first kiss.
11 - put your ipod on shuffle and write 10 songs that pop up.
12 - bullet your whole day.
13 - somewhere you’d like to move or visit.
14 - your earliest memory.
15 - your favorite tumblrs.
16 - your views on mainstream music.
17 - your highs and lows of this past year.
18 - your beliefs.
19 - disrespecting your parents.
20 - how important you think education is.
21 - one of your favorite shows.
22 - how have you changed in the past 2 years?
23 - give pictures of 5 girls who are famous who you find attractive.
24 - your favorite movie and what it’s about.
25 - someone who fascinates you and why.
26 - what kind of person attracts you.
27 - a problem that you have had.
28 - something that you miss.
29 - goals for the next 30 days.
30 - your highs and lows of this month.

catch-22

Sun, 01 Apr 2012 01:44:35 -0700

i’m pathetic. i know what this sounds like, but i’m not trying to have a pity party for myself. i’ve just realized that there’s so much i don’t know. so much i haven’t done, haven’t seen. sometimes i wonder how it ended up that i shelter myself more than my parents ever did. is that normal? i’ve set so many rules for myself that i’m surprised i haven’t gone completely mad. sometimes i wonder if i already have.

these regulations i’ve set…they’ve cost me friendships, relationships, sanity. i will be 24 in exactly 2 months today, but i have the social competence of a 15 year old. and much less experience. i have been left behind by boyfriends and “prospects” as a result of this. i have been left out of social circles because of it. i’ve held myself back because of it. i don’t seem to belong anywhere. it sounds dramatic, i’m aware, but it’s also the sorry truth. i don’t honestly know if i ever have. belonged.

it’s not like i’m begging to be classified into some lonely lot of people who are into one thing or another, but sometimes it would feel nice to have someone to connect with. i can’t remember the last time i connected with someone for more than a fleeting moment. it always lasts a day, or a week, or a even a few months, but it never stays. no one ever stays. at first i thought it was other people. i was so sure that it was them with the problem. that they were always so wrapped up in themselves that they had been too blind to see whatever it was that i had to offer them. but i’m not so blind that i’d believe that the same thing could possibly plague so many people. it has to be me. something i do or say. or don’t do, don’t say.

i try not to attach myself to people because of this pattern i’ve grown used to, yet i’ve been so starved for attention in the least bit that i can’t help not to. it’s this same catch-22 that continues this lonely cycle and i see no way out of it without some sort of change. but i am happy with the person i have become. at least i like to think so. on paper, i’m great, but the reality is not so pristine. i have made the decisions i have for a reason and i see no point in me going back on them now.

in terms of friendship, i have to believe that there is a reason i’ve been left on my own. that this is god trying to tell me something. it feels a bit job-like, although i am in no way comparing his suffering to my own. i have to believe that there’s a reason for god to strip me of everything that comforts me. i know that he will never tear you down without building you back up again, but a part of me wants to shout out on top of a mountain “OK GOD, I GET IT! I’M HERE! I’VE GOT NOTHING LEFT BUT YOU! WHERE DO I GO FROM HERE??” that is the big question, isn’t it? what to do next? when will he tell me? will he ever? or is this all some big joke on me? that’s what it feels like sometimes. everyone seems to be going on with their lives like it’s all some big effing fairytale and i’m just watching everything go by from some tall ass tower with no way out, no voice to speak up with, no prince to save me.

in terms of princes, it’s both terrifying and comforting believing that whoever this prince turns out to be is out there somewhere right now. alive on this earth. it’s both amazing and depressing. a part of me wants to pay a sky writer to get the message out that i’m ready and waiting, and the other part of me has come to the conclusion that he’d never get the message anyway. i know i’m only 23, but i’ve got so much i want to do and i feel like i’m running short on time. seems funny coming from a person who seems to have nothing BUT time what with my lack of company 24/7, but still. you never know how much time you actually have and i’d really like to make the most of it.

cycle.

Mon, 06 Feb 2012 22:58:26 -0800

I’ve officially been in New York for exactly 6 months and not a single thing has changed from the 2nd month. I’m in all new classes and while I talk to a few more people in class, I don’t know a single name so it’s not like we’re actually friends. It’s only the beginning of the third week though, so who knows. I know well enough to not hold my breath.

Am I that off-putting? Maybe it’s them. I really don’t know.

What I do know is that I’m still the same old me. Grand ideas, little to no action. I was home for exactly one month for winter break and I felt revitalized. Not with friends or anything since I have like 4 friends at home, but…just me. I spend waaaay too much time on Pinterest, but it’s doing good things for me—not only am I finding great not-so-healthy recipes on there, but I’ve found looooads of healthy ones as well as great workouts that you don’t need a gym for. In short, I felt motivated to get a tad bit more healthy. I made a HUGE list on my computer of all the foods I needed to buy when I got home and everything I was going to do the minute I got here. Well I have most of the food and I’ve been doing alright for the most part, but I still fall victim to myself and my lack of self control. If you asked my friend Chris, he’d tell you that I spent the two days I got to see him on my vacation complaining about how fat I think I am. It’s true, I did. It’s not like I weigh 200 pounds, but when I went to the doctor about 4 months ago I can honestly say I was IN SHOCK when I got on their scale. I was not happy with where I was when I first got here…so obviously I was even less happy when I saw that I was 10 pounds more than I remembered being….also 10 pounds more than my heaviest ever. I have absolutely NO desire to weigh a hundred pounds, don’t get me wrong, but regardless of what I look like with my clothes on, what’s underneath is not healthy in neither my eyes nor any BMI chart you can find. There’s too skinny, athletic, average, overweight, obese, and morbidly obese. I’d be happy with average. I can work with average. But if you plugged my height and weight into one of those handy dandy calculators, average is not what you’d get. Yea, I’m aware of the fact that I have like 10 pounds of boobs, but at least a quarter of that came from the initial weight gain. Hopefully some of that disappears if I can ever actually make the change I want. The point of this pity party isn’t to tell the zero people who will read this that I think I’m fat. The point is that I have to make a change. I know everything I have to do. I literally have everything I need at my disposal (including a home gym upstairs) yet I do nothing about it. I have grapes instead of chips. I have fruit snacks instead of candy. I have ground turkey instead of meatballs. But I go to the store and see BBQ Popchips on sale 2 for $5 and I can’t resist. I eat one bag that night, one the next. I’ve said it so many times that I’m sick of hearing it from myself…I literally have like no self control. I’ve been better since I started using an app on my phone to record everything I eat, but sometimes I actually contemplate leaving something off just so I don’t have to see it. It’s holding me accountable which is great, but it’s not enough. I don’t seem to be capable of giving 100% of my effort to anything. As with every single other thing in my life, I go in with the best intentions…and I leave after having only given 10%.

This is literally the story of my life. It’s starting all over again, again. With school, with health, with friendships (or a lack of). With everything. I’m still sitting on my couch all day (and right now) and when I’m not, I’m eating or avoiding sleep (like now). Or I’m doing all three at once. I can’t win. I never do.

i'm not sure alone is so okay anymore.

Thu, 13 Oct 2011 01:43:00 -0700

So…I’m here…I’m in New York. Everything I wanted. The 16 year old version of myself would be jealous. I’ve seen my mom more in the past two months than I have in the past 10 years. I’m living near actual (as in blood-related) family for the first time in 3 years. I’m living in (the basement of) the house I’ve loved my whole life. I’m home. Right?

Maybe.

I’ve been in school for about a month and a half now and I more or less have no friends. More less than more, if that makes sense. I have five classes and I talk to one person in one class. The only time we’ve spent talking outside of class has been through text or facebook…and only about our class. She’s not even someone I’m sure I want to be friends with outside of class, but she’s all I got.

I know it’s my fault. It’s not like I’ve made much of an effort. Maybe if I went to school earlier (I have all afternoon/night classes) and just hung out around campus I’d meet people. Maybe if I got involved in some of the clubs I’d meet people. Maybe if I didn’t walk around with my head down and my headphones in…I’d meet people.

I didn’t have this problem when I was in Northern California. I usually had someone new after just a few classes. I could usually pick out a person or two to sit with right away that seemed like a good fit for me. I think a huge factor in my success was the fact that none of my classes had more than 40 people. In fact, many of them had much less. Here, though, I’m one of 100. Or one of 250. And the classrooms are HUGE, so we easily get away with a good portion of the class left with empty seats next to them. They don’t call them lecture halls for nothing. Some of my classrooms are literally auditoriums nearly as big as the one at my high school.

I thought my quaint, surrounded by nature community college was a culture shock. Nothing prepared me for this.

The people are different. The school is different. The professors are different. The classrooms are different. The food is different (in a GOOD way!). The weather is different. The roads and the way people drive are different (in a terrible way!). EVERYTHING is different. And I don’t know how I feel about it.

And that SUCKS. I risked everything coming here. A part of me wanted to settle for the third rate CSU that’s close to my house. Just so I could be home again. So I could surround myself with my favorite places. So maybe I could mend a few broken friendships. But I crave change. I don’t like to be comfortable. Well, maybe I do—I just like to take myself out of my comfort zone. Maybe to challenge myself to find a way to get comfortable. I’m not really sure why I keep doing this to myself. 400 miles wasn’t enough this time. I just had to up the ante to 3,000.

I’m so scared of what’s next. Not of how far I’ll move next time, but how I will survive with this one. During orientation I heard from other transfer students the horrors of their first semester at my university and how they got past it. They joined clubs. They went to events. They got involved.

I didn’t do ANYthing “extracurricular” at my previous school and yet I still had friends. I thought maybe it would be different for me. While there’s still plenty of time for things to turn around, I fear that this sense I have that I’m going to end up just like I always do is slowly coming to fruition. With or without a circle of friends around me, I still act (and feel) like I’m alone. I spend all of my free time (and I have A LOT of it) sitting on my couch from the outside looking in at all 329…wait, 328(apparently someone deleted me…I don’t regularly check, and I have no idea why I knew how many friends I had. I have good memory I suppose…) “friends” and all of the excitement in their lives.

In 2.5 words, it’s depressing.

But I’m doing it to myself. I could delete my facebook (I’ve done it in the past when I had a big test or essay I had to focus on), but it’s my only link to people I’ve left behind on the West Coast. I know that’s a dumb excuse, but I also know for a fact that without facebook, I probably would not be in contact with the majority of the people on there. It makes things easier in that respect, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

To top everything off, my sleeping habits have been worse than EVER (that’s saying a lot) since I’ve been here. This should be obvious considering the fact that it’s 4:38am and I haven’t been to sleep yet. The fact that my classes are in the afternoon helps prevent me from being late to class due to my inability to wake up at 9am, but it doesn’t help me get out of bed at a decent time since I know I don’t need to be. And it’s obviously not motivating me to go to sleep earlier, even when I’m tired. Like I’ve been doing ever since I can remember, I allow myself to push through being tired and always end up “past the point of no return” as I lovingly call it. It’s getting so bad that I rarely find myself asleep before 4am, and, with the exception of Mondays (when I have class at 11:45am), I am never out of bed before 1pm. Despite my best “effort” and my 30 alarms.

I’ve said it too many times before, but something needs to change. Again, it’s already been said, but I know it needs to be me. I need to start with myself (no easy task), then focus on others. All I need now is the motivation to get up and make it happen. You’d think I’d have the ability and the willpower to start something I want so badly…but as with most things in my life, it’s like pulling teeth.

I think I need a life coach.

LOVE...

Wed, 05 Oct 2011 22:29:19 -0700

LOVE this.

hitrecordjoe:

fuckyeahmoleskines: nawasaka.tumblr.com

some parents are capable of being amazing. here’s an...

Mon, 03 Oct 2011 15:30:16 -0700

some parents are capable of being amazing. here’s an example:

getstooobsessed:

“Mommy, they are just like me.”

My oldest son is six years old and in love for the first time. He is in love with Blaine from Glee.

For those who don’t know Blaine is a boy…a gay boy, the boyfriend of one of the main characters, Kurt.

This isn’t a ‘he thinks Blaine is really cool’ kind of love. It is a mooning at a picture of Blaine’s face for a half hour followed by a wistful “He’s so pretty” kind of love.

He loves the episode where two boys kiss. My son will call people in from other parts of the house to make sure they don’t miss his ‘favorite part.’ He’s been known to rewind it and watch it over again…and force other to, as well, if he doesn’t think people have been paying enough attention.

This infatuation doesn’t bother me or his father. We live in a very hip-liberal neighborhood, many of our friends are gay, and idea of having a gay son isn’t something that bothers either of us. Our son is going to be who he is, and it is our job to love him. End of story.

He is also six. Six year olds get obsessed with all kinds of things. This might not mean anything at all. We always joke that he’s either gay, or we have the best blackmail material in the history of mankind when he’s a 16 year old straight boy. (Take that naked bath time pictures!)

Then the other day we were traveling across the state listening to the Warblers album (of course), and in the middle of Candles, my son pipes up from the back seat.

“Mommy, Kurt and Blaine are boyfriends.”

“Yes, they are,” I affirm.

“They don’t like kissing girls. They just kiss boys.”

“That’s true.”

“Mommy, they are just like me.”

“That’s great, baby. You know I love you no matter what?”

“I know…” I could hear him rolling his eyes at me.

When we got home I recapped this conversation to his Dad, and we stood simply looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. Then we smiled.

“So if at 16 he wants to make a big announcement at the dinner table, we can say ‘You told us when you were six. Pass the carrots’ and he’ll be disappointed we stole his big dramatic moment,” my husband says with a laugh and hugs me.

Only time will tell if my son is gay, but if he is I am glad he’s mine. I am glad he has been born into our family. A family full of people who will love and accept him. People who will never want him to change. With parents who will look forward to dancing at his wedding.

And I have to admit, Blaine would be a really cute son-in-law.

i really love this. makes me think of my old hospital. nostalgia...

Tue, 05 Jul 2011 05:25:32 -0700

i really love this. makes me think of my old hospital. nostalgia :)

promises.

Tue, 05 Jul 2011 04:23:30 -0700

about an hour ago i discovered a tumblr where people go to make anonymous confession-type posts about cutting. being a survivor of sorts, i was intrigued by what people would have to say. a few were hopeful. a few were cries for help. some were graphic. some were angry. each post led to more and more thoughts about my past. a few put me right back there. as thoughts increased, so did my fears of another relapse. i haven’t cut in just about six and a half years, and i haven’t almost cut in probably a little over four. i’m not saying i don’t think about cutting all the time—not the act, just about my past—but seeing all the words of all the people who are still hurting from this god-awful obsession after i’ve so easily (only in comparison to others) left it behind…it hurt. this feeling of wanting to take their pain away (and ultimately onto myself instead) lead me right back to one of the reasons i started in the first place: martyrdom. being selfless (sort of) to the point of self-destruction. having been so far removed from it for so long, the rate at which it accelerated back into my thoughts caught me off guard and eventually led to crying (which i’m very good at after years of practice) which led to my usual bout of hyperventilation as a result of not breathing correctly between sobs. the excessive amount of breathing led to the usual numbing of the face—starting with the nose as always—which led to a sort of physical-nostalgia…if there even is such a thing. i haven’t cried that hard, for that long, in a long time; i feel as if my body was reacting to my thoughts…which were reacting to my body? none of this makes any sense. what i think i mean is that when i was in the state of mind way back in the day of cutting or even just thinking about cutting, i would cry. the crying would lead to hyperventilation, numbing, etc., so when my body was there again, my mind was like “oh crap…crying, hyperventilation, numbness—i must have missed something! time to start thinking about what the body is crying about!” it’s a terrible, terrible, vicious circle of a thought process that i’d never wish on anyone. there goes my martyrdom complex again. oh well.

when i cut for the last time six and a half years ago i promised myself there would be no more. my stubbornness when it comes to allowing myself to lose to anyone, especially myself, has kept me free and clear of it for the most part. my promise didn’t include not thinking about it, however, and that part might actually be harder than not committing the act itself. i would never try to deny myself that privilege (if you could even call it that), but sometimes i wish there was a way to stop it. the only rational way of reasoning with myself is the knowledge that with anything in life—not just addictions—in order to not think about doing something, you have to think about it. does that make sense? if i have to tell myself everyday that i’m not going to cut—just so i won’t cut—then i’ll do it, even if that means torturing myself with having to think about it everyday without the satisfaction of actually doing it. that might be the recovering masochist part of me holding on to anything it can grasp, but as with many other things in life, some things are necessary evils.

Changes.

Mon, 04 Jul 2011 18:12:04 -0700

I’m leaving here in 3 weeks. I haven’t been home in months, but I only get to visit for 2 weeks before officially moving. I’m SO excited for NY. I’m excited to be with family I rarely get to see. I’m excited for the food. I’m excited for snow! I’m excited to finally be at a university. Things have never gone this great for me. Something is always wrong. Or missing. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed. It doesn’t help that I haven’t even really started packing yet. Same old me. Waiting until the last possible minute is my thing. Thanks, Dad, for passing on the family habit.