Hey, everyone! Just letting you all know I'm doing a lot better since my last blog post. I feel it's only safe to tell you I wrote that months ago as I thought about my past, and only after a while did I gain the courage to even post something like that. It wasn't easy, but I'm glad I did it.
To use a rather gross metaphor, it's like throwing up. Now, I hate this with a passion. But now that it's out...I feel better. I do feel a little weak and achey, and a little embarrassed that you had to see that side of me. But being honest is something I need to do more of. Especially with my feelings.
On a very happy note, I met Lindsey Stirling (AHGHAGHAGHAHGASOAWESOME!) last week, and that was very much a life changing experience. Watching her play live filled me with a desire to do everything with the same passion that she does. And I'm excited to start actually doing what I want to do and ignoring that stupid voice in the back of my head that's been telling me, "No, no don't do this. No one will care." Sorry, nagging doubts, you're getting shown the door.
What am I working on? Well...I don't know if I'm quite ready to admit that just yet...When I get there, you'll all know. I'll probably start posting photos of my work in progress. We'll see. Just keep supporting me, guys. Just because I'm happy doesn't mean I no longer need support. I always need support; everyone does. It's what makes the difference between failure and success. So, keep cheering me on, and I'll keep doing great.
Let a new adventure begin...
Monday, October 15, 2012
Monday, September 24, 2012
Liar
When I was in high school, I became the biggest liar I knew. Everyone would ask, "How are you doing?" and I'd, naturally, say, fine.
But I wasn't fine. I was far from it. I was hoping someone would see past that lie of "I'm fine" and demand to know what was wrong. I wanted someone to see the hurt and crying girl inside me, begging for someone to help. Just once, I wanted someone to scrunch their face up in scrutiny, realize that something was off, and confront me about it.
But I couldn't tell the truth. If I did that, everything would change. I would cease to be me, and instead become "The Girl Whose Mom Has Cancer." Which would naturally lead to all the worry being dumped on my mother, and not me. More importantly, I hated that instant sympathy people would dump on me if I told them. So I didn't. I kept quiet because the last thing I wanted was unneeded sympathy. I wanted action. I wanted people to come over and see me, just me. I needed someone to pay attention to my silent pleas for help. I wanted someone to see that I was lying, that I wasn't fine. That I was hurting, that I just wanted to cry it out. Isn't that what friends are supposed to do? See past the lies and take action? But I'd gotten so good at lying, no one thought I was lying. After lying for around five years, I think it's time to come clean, don't you?
I am hurting. I have been for almost five years. Ever since my mom was first diagnosed, I started this lying. I had to. My social standing in high school would have been ruined beyond repair if I had even mentioned this. I was trying to convince myself that this was just a small bump in my road of life, and that in a few months time, my life would get back to normal. But it didn't. Things spiraled out of control, so much so that I didn't want to take control of my own life. I mean, what's the point of having this illusion of control? Why have an illusion when you can just let the guy in charge drive? I could take the passenger seat and I wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore. Simple as that, right? Wrong.
This track of thinking hit me at the worst possible time in life: college, when you're supposed to take control of your life. When you make big decisions that affect the rest of your life...and I have no idea what I want beyond college. I didn't even think about colleges until it was time to apply to them. I kept waiting for my life to get back to the normal that was robbed from me. I want to get married, but I'm stubbornly waiting for my Prince Charming to ride up on his stallion when I know I've got to go into the woods and guide that dumb idiot to me. But I don't want to. Because I'm scared if I do, anything that makes me happy is just gonna get ripped from my hands and then I'll be left with next to nothing and told, "Here's the pieces, now make the Mona Lisa from two pieces of string and a rock. And while you're at it, build the Taj Mahal and the Great Wall of China from these as well. And those are all thing things you get. Oh, and do it all in a week, no wait, one day. You can do that, right? Of course you can! You're tough. You come from tough stock, so you can do hard things." While I'm probably overexaggerating, this is how it feels. I feel like I have to make all these decisions right now, while I'm dealing with emotional issues and my own social shortcomings that are starting to rear their ugly head.
Trouble is, by thinking I could go through this on my own, I didn't ever think to ask for help. And now, I don't want to. It's stupid really how I'm scared to ask someone something as simple as hanging out. But it doesn't matter. That same mentality of "just do it on your own" is now messing with my life. And I don't know what to do.
I'm tired of being a liar, but I'm also scared to find out who I am. I'm worried that the perky, happy me is just trying to compensate for the scared, depressed me. That who I am is a lie. Because if it is, then I become nothing. I don't want to be a lie. I want to be me, and be me honestly.
I'm asking for help. Because I can't do this on my own anymore. Get me out of my room. I hate it there. I do nothing, and I hate doing that. But I don't know what else to do, so I do nothing because nothing is safe. Get me out of loneliness. Because I've locked myself in a box, and I need someone to remind me I have the key. Just hold my hand and help me out of this. Once I get to place I can do it on my own, I'll be okay. But right now, please, just help me take the first few steps. I know many of you are far away, and can't really do anything except pray and give me words of support. Please do these. Don't stop. I need every one I can get. I need a little reminder every now and then that I am awesome, that I am doing okay given what's happened.
Now I want sympathy. I want a pity party, featuring me! And get one of those cakes that s girl pops out of. No, never mind. That ruins the cake. Just bring cake and ice cream and let me cry my make-up off. I need attention. I've been denying myself those moments for five years now, and they're all accumilating in the worst possible way. Don't worry, I haven't thought super dark things yet, but I have been lonely and staring blankly at a computer screen for hours on end because I can't think of anything better to do. Get me off my sorry butt and help me be the happy person that I'd like to think I am. I'm like a plant. I just need some attention, and I will thrive.
If I can get past this, I'll be okay. And I mean that.
But I wasn't fine. I was far from it. I was hoping someone would see past that lie of "I'm fine" and demand to know what was wrong. I wanted someone to see the hurt and crying girl inside me, begging for someone to help. Just once, I wanted someone to scrunch their face up in scrutiny, realize that something was off, and confront me about it.
But I couldn't tell the truth. If I did that, everything would change. I would cease to be me, and instead become "The Girl Whose Mom Has Cancer." Which would naturally lead to all the worry being dumped on my mother, and not me. More importantly, I hated that instant sympathy people would dump on me if I told them. So I didn't. I kept quiet because the last thing I wanted was unneeded sympathy. I wanted action. I wanted people to come over and see me, just me. I needed someone to pay attention to my silent pleas for help. I wanted someone to see that I was lying, that I wasn't fine. That I was hurting, that I just wanted to cry it out. Isn't that what friends are supposed to do? See past the lies and take action? But I'd gotten so good at lying, no one thought I was lying. After lying for around five years, I think it's time to come clean, don't you?
I am hurting. I have been for almost five years. Ever since my mom was first diagnosed, I started this lying. I had to. My social standing in high school would have been ruined beyond repair if I had even mentioned this. I was trying to convince myself that this was just a small bump in my road of life, and that in a few months time, my life would get back to normal. But it didn't. Things spiraled out of control, so much so that I didn't want to take control of my own life. I mean, what's the point of having this illusion of control? Why have an illusion when you can just let the guy in charge drive? I could take the passenger seat and I wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore. Simple as that, right? Wrong.
This track of thinking hit me at the worst possible time in life: college, when you're supposed to take control of your life. When you make big decisions that affect the rest of your life...and I have no idea what I want beyond college. I didn't even think about colleges until it was time to apply to them. I kept waiting for my life to get back to the normal that was robbed from me. I want to get married, but I'm stubbornly waiting for my Prince Charming to ride up on his stallion when I know I've got to go into the woods and guide that dumb idiot to me. But I don't want to. Because I'm scared if I do, anything that makes me happy is just gonna get ripped from my hands and then I'll be left with next to nothing and told, "Here's the pieces, now make the Mona Lisa from two pieces of string and a rock. And while you're at it, build the Taj Mahal and the Great Wall of China from these as well. And those are all thing things you get. Oh, and do it all in a week, no wait, one day. You can do that, right? Of course you can! You're tough. You come from tough stock, so you can do hard things." While I'm probably overexaggerating, this is how it feels. I feel like I have to make all these decisions right now, while I'm dealing with emotional issues and my own social shortcomings that are starting to rear their ugly head.
Trouble is, by thinking I could go through this on my own, I didn't ever think to ask for help. And now, I don't want to. It's stupid really how I'm scared to ask someone something as simple as hanging out. But it doesn't matter. That same mentality of "just do it on your own" is now messing with my life. And I don't know what to do.
I'm tired of being a liar, but I'm also scared to find out who I am. I'm worried that the perky, happy me is just trying to compensate for the scared, depressed me. That who I am is a lie. Because if it is, then I become nothing. I don't want to be a lie. I want to be me, and be me honestly.
I'm asking for help. Because I can't do this on my own anymore. Get me out of my room. I hate it there. I do nothing, and I hate doing that. But I don't know what else to do, so I do nothing because nothing is safe. Get me out of loneliness. Because I've locked myself in a box, and I need someone to remind me I have the key. Just hold my hand and help me out of this. Once I get to place I can do it on my own, I'll be okay. But right now, please, just help me take the first few steps. I know many of you are far away, and can't really do anything except pray and give me words of support. Please do these. Don't stop. I need every one I can get. I need a little reminder every now and then that I am awesome, that I am doing okay given what's happened.
Now I want sympathy. I want a pity party, featuring me! And get one of those cakes that s girl pops out of. No, never mind. That ruins the cake. Just bring cake and ice cream and let me cry my make-up off. I need attention. I've been denying myself those moments for five years now, and they're all accumilating in the worst possible way. Don't worry, I haven't thought super dark things yet, but I have been lonely and staring blankly at a computer screen for hours on end because I can't think of anything better to do. Get me off my sorry butt and help me be the happy person that I'd like to think I am. I'm like a plant. I just need some attention, and I will thrive.
If I can get past this, I'll be okay. And I mean that.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Hero
How am I supposed to be the hero of my own story when I don't have the guts to try?
I have many heroes: Link, Mario, Aang, Korra, Harry, Luke, Obi-Wan, Legolas, Jack Sparrow (excuse me, Captain Jack Sparrow), the list goes on. All of them have a purpose: to teach, to save the world/princess, etc. And, eventually, they accomplish just that. It doesn't matter what gets in their way, they find away around it, through it, and move on.
And then there's me who gets roadblocks and just sits there, staring blankly at the wall that's appeared before me. "Brick walls are there for a reason: they let us prove how badly we want things." Trouble is, i don't know what's beyond the brick wall. What treasures or adventures lie beyond it. And I'm scared to move on because I don't know what's on the other side. What if it's something horrible, something I regret? But what if it's something wonderful? Something I've always wanted?
With my heroes, it doesn't matter what's on the other side. They shatter that wall like glass and plow forward in their adventure. They're determined. They have someone or something to save. And by golly, they're going to do it. And then there's me who's decidedly...not. I have nothing or no one to save. I have no grand purpose. I'm not a chosen hero. I'm just a plain, ordinary girl. There will be no grand call to adventure for me. I will not be placed in a life or death situation. I will not be called on to save the day. Because the day never needs saving. No one needs me to swoop in at the last second.
They never mention how when those moments occur, how it really feels. How it's either fight or flight. How you have to think spur of the moment, and every second counts. How, afterwards, you never want to experience that feeling again. How you just want to crawl under a blanket and hide. They make it seem like it's a glorious thrill ride, appealing even. They don't explain how your brain locks up in the fight or flight position. and it's not going to go anywhere until the moment has passed.
Heroes don't get that. They slap on their "grr" face, whip out their swords or general awesomeness and tear into the bad guy. I don't have a bad guy. Just me. And I'm not awesome. I don't have a fiery personality. I don't have anything to bring to the heroic table. I have nothing.
What good is a useless hero?
I have many heroes: Link, Mario, Aang, Korra, Harry, Luke, Obi-Wan, Legolas, Jack Sparrow (excuse me, Captain Jack Sparrow), the list goes on. All of them have a purpose: to teach, to save the world/princess, etc. And, eventually, they accomplish just that. It doesn't matter what gets in their way, they find away around it, through it, and move on.
And then there's me who gets roadblocks and just sits there, staring blankly at the wall that's appeared before me. "Brick walls are there for a reason: they let us prove how badly we want things." Trouble is, i don't know what's beyond the brick wall. What treasures or adventures lie beyond it. And I'm scared to move on because I don't know what's on the other side. What if it's something horrible, something I regret? But what if it's something wonderful? Something I've always wanted?
With my heroes, it doesn't matter what's on the other side. They shatter that wall like glass and plow forward in their adventure. They're determined. They have someone or something to save. And by golly, they're going to do it. And then there's me who's decidedly...not. I have nothing or no one to save. I have no grand purpose. I'm not a chosen hero. I'm just a plain, ordinary girl. There will be no grand call to adventure for me. I will not be placed in a life or death situation. I will not be called on to save the day. Because the day never needs saving. No one needs me to swoop in at the last second.
They never mention how when those moments occur, how it really feels. How it's either fight or flight. How you have to think spur of the moment, and every second counts. How, afterwards, you never want to experience that feeling again. How you just want to crawl under a blanket and hide. They make it seem like it's a glorious thrill ride, appealing even. They don't explain how your brain locks up in the fight or flight position. and it's not going to go anywhere until the moment has passed.
Heroes don't get that. They slap on their "grr" face, whip out their swords or general awesomeness and tear into the bad guy. I don't have a bad guy. Just me. And I'm not awesome. I don't have a fiery personality. I don't have anything to bring to the heroic table. I have nothing.
What good is a useless hero?
Friday, February 17, 2012
Oh hi there, blog! I didn't see you under all that life there!
AAAANNND! I'm back. Hello, readers! How are you?
I have never been more grateful for a weekend than right now. This week I have been swamped with tests and projects and I've never been so happy to just do NOTHING. No nagging thought that I'm procrastinating homework; no staying up until midnight just to get it done; no more feeling burned out. It's just a wonderful day, this Friday.
As you can see, I'm very much alive and well. Hope you all have a great weekend! I know I will! :D
I have never been more grateful for a weekend than right now. This week I have been swamped with tests and projects and I've never been so happy to just do NOTHING. No nagging thought that I'm procrastinating homework; no staying up until midnight just to get it done; no more feeling burned out. It's just a wonderful day, this Friday.
As you can see, I'm very much alive and well. Hope you all have a great weekend! I know I will! :D
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