Obligatory Merry Christmas Post

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For all my readers, friends, and family, I say Merry Christmas!!

Hold up…wait a sec…

This is more my style!!

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Yeah…that’s more like it!!

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Reverberation

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Things always have a way of coming back full circle. There are patterns and struggles that repeat in a loop. There are words, spoken and written, that are always echoing. That seems to be the nature of memories, good and bad.

I’m remembering a myriad of memories and emotions tied with them are returning to me. It’s like carrying the weight of an entire universe inside of me. It doesn’t help that I’ve read some of my earlier posts and remembering where I was in those moments I took the time to put everything into words.

I remember when I first started writing this blog I was trying to come back from failures that occurred earlier in the spring. I was also desperate to leave the Cottages of Boone. I remember feeling my anxieties spiking and climbing because of little things like getting an e-mail, the phone ringing constantly, or being spotted by a professor on the street, and having to talk to my parents and cousins about what was going on in my mind.

Then there were the times I had to deal with the intervention team, picking up the nerve to go through counseling, stomaching my last two months at The Cottages, waiting to hear back about the Nest, finding roommates, and enduring the extreme isolation that always unsettled me.

Then I got the house, I passed my summer classes, and started feeling better about myself. Things seemed to look promising at the start of the fall semester, but it wasn’t without it’s own share of struggles.

I feel very mixed about things. I have this feeling that has my stomach tied up in knots. A feeling as though something catastrophic is going to happen. I know it’s a cognitive distortion at work. I know it’s “fortune telling”.

I know a big reason I’m feeling this way is because I have uncertainties about what the future holds for me once life at App State is over. I keep thinking, “One mistake and it’s all over. Please don’t let me screw up”. This dreadful feeling is the only thing that my mind is registering as a certainty.

This feeling is no different from everything I was experiencing over the summer. When I realized this I started to think about how things like this are always forming into these repeating patterns.

The intrusive thoughts of suicide, the constant “battles” I have to fight, the self-loathing, feeling like nothing I say or do is ever good enough. It keeps coming back. It doesn’t stop there either. I’m remembering times when I was at my worst and even though I survived all of that there’s still this sort of power behind it.

As I write I’m doing all that I can to fight off the negativity and remember that things will get better. I’m calling forth better memories to show that not everything in my life has been perpetual doom and gloom.

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I remember Jewels loving me unconditionally, the way her tail wagged, how she begged for belly rubs, her little footsteps in the hallways or on the streets, always running to me because she was happy to see me.

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These kids worked their way into my heart the same way Jewels did. The more I spend time with them I feel my own innocence return to me. It reminds me that I am a good person even when there are times I feel otherwise.

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Then there’s my Mom, my aunts, and my cousins. They believe in me even when I’m doubting myself. They love me even when I hate myself. I draw strength from them because I have their blood coursing through my veins.

I remember all the times I felt like giving up and running away during these last few months. I could’ve easily dropped everything, but I kept it going. The same is true for the more distant past.

I remember imagining that I would never able to write anything and now I’m creating my own story universe, complete with all sorts of lore.

I remember thinking that I would never get accepted into a University and now I’m in App State.

I remember all the things that I once perceived as impossibilities and somehow, against all odds, I made them happen. So why should now be any different?

There’s still a lot of good buried deep within my memories and inside of me. And there’s still hope beyond everything that I perceive as bad or imposing. I just have to keep digging through everything.

Here I go.

Maybe It’s a Writer’s Thing

I know I’m not alone in this. I know they are people who are going to relate to this. This is something I meant to writer earlier, but then it turned into something else.

Like this post or comment if you agree or identify with the following:
-“Wow. The more dumb things I see or hear from people the more I prefer the company of dogs.”
-“I can’t deal with reality. I’m out of here.”
-“I could be writing now, but no I’m forced to socialize with people who make me want to vomit on sight.”
-“I don’t belong in this world.”
-“I can’t connect with anyone.”
-“Nothing here makes sense.”
-“I can’t share anything with anyone because they don’t understand. Even my friends.”

I’m back on my writing kick. I have all these ideas that I’d love to share with people, but so far I’ve got no takers. I was stuck in traffic with my best friend, Dan, and he just didn’t seem into anything. Plus he seemed confused. Either way he was just not on the same wavelength as me.

I have other friends in Charlotte, but I can’t share with just anyone. I’ve had experiences where I’ve shared ideas with others and then they try to force things onto me. It’s like they they’re trying to pull and make my creation into their own idea. Then there are those that aren’t likely to understand what I’m doing, people who aren’t on the same wavelength as me.

My good friend Scott pointed out to me that my way of thinking is just something that people can’t sync up with. I remember when I became more serious about wanting to write fiction I not only had these ideas for different projects, but I also had a vision in my mind’s eye that I would not only meet like minded creative people, but that I would be leading them. We’d go on to be the new Marvel Comics. Or Rooster Teeth.

That vision is from so long ago. I’m not even sure if it’s possible for me anymore. I remember my biggest problem was that I couldn’t connect with people in Boone, including my roommates (past and present). But now I think it’s much bigger than that. I can’t connect with people at all. I feel like I’m worlds apart from everyone else.

First I thought I just had trust issues. But no, it’s a complete disconnection. What I’m finding more disturbing is how nonchalant I am about it. I don’t know if it’s exhaustion from recent months that’s taking its toll on me or not, but I don’t care about connecting with people anymore.

This keeps repeating in my mind…
-“I’m done with trying to be open and understanding with everyone”
-“I don’t care if people understand me or not anymore”
-“The true friends and Dream Man I’ve been looking for don’t exist.”

Plus it really doesn’t help that I keep noticing the flaws in people in general
-People get offended so easily. They don’t have the thick skin to endure anything like I needed.
-Relationships in reality are so artificial. And it’s all thanks to social media.
-Everyone’s understanding is skin deep. No further than that.

I live in a different world than everybody else and I’m the only one who gets to experience it. I’m lucky to even get one person to talk to me at all. Or like my Facebook posts, Instagram photos, or comprehend any words that come out of my mouth. Then when I do try to communicate out loud everything I say sounds so awkward. As if English isn’t my first language. I almost sound like that dude with the funky accent in The Room.

And this feeling of being content with disconnecting with people contradicts with what I want. I hate being alone. I want to be in a relationship with someone. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as some misanthropic hermit but the way things are going now that’s the road I’m heading towards.

I need to stop before I blow a fuse in my brain. I don’t even know where this is coming from anymore.

Gauntlet Cleared

So I finally finished running the academic gauntlet and today marked my first official day of freedom. Remember when I said it felt like I experienced a Bloodborne boss battle in real life? Let me clarify something…I wasn’t fighting ONE thing. I was fighting multiple things…

Like this…

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Or this one…
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Let’s not forget this beautiful specimen….
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And it left me feeling and looking like this in my mind’s eye…

So yeah…that happened.

But I got through it! I can’t tell you how good it feels to back home and enjoying a nice, quiet, uneventful evening at home in a heated room while playing as much Netflix and J-Rock as I want and as loud as I want and be around people who actually enjoy my company. And to not have anything hanging over my head…until I’m back in Boone anyway.

I was scared shitless because I had to write and revise a bunch of articles for Feature Writing. It was tough having to write everything while trying to shut out the voice in my mind that carried all my doubts, self loathing, and judgements.

I almost gave up on everything because my nerves were so shot to hell and my mind kept “short circuiting” on me. I honestly have no clue what’s going to happen grade-wise. But at that point I needed to just push through and do it for myself. So I can enjoy this winter break knowing that I at least gave it everything I had. Not to mention I stopped myself from giving up like I’ve done in the past. Around this same time I made that previous post for my audio doc class. After that I slept like I was dead in my bed.

This entire year has been a series of battles for me. But it was all for the better. Were these last couple of weeks a complete cakewalk? No. But it could’ve been so much worse. I know I’ve been through worse mentally. Especially from long ago.

There was a bunch of other stuff that happened. Minor stuff that I would’ve most likely turned into a bigger deal than they needed to be. Or in my case produce more monsters in my head. I think I’ve somehow managed to adjust somehow. I’m beginning to unlearn the behavior and reactions that fuel my depression. But it still hasn’t come easy for me because…

-I ended up falling for someone else. Someone that I know I can’t have. I’m trying to put those feelings behind me.
-I’m struggling with trying to figure out what to really do with my future after graduation.
-I keep worrying about how next semester will turn out. I fear that the smallest mistake will undo all my progress. I’m repeating to myself, “Please don’t let me fuck up. Please don’t let me fuck up.”
-I sometimes keep hearing this tick-tock going off in my mind. Like my mind is telling me that time is running out for my dreams.
-There’s probably more stuff…that I’m not up to talking about yet.

But I’m going to be all right. I have time for myself to write something that’s not for a grade. I’m free to vent out all my pent up rage and frustrations through Persona 5, Nier Automata, and actual Bloodborne. I can resume cooking. I’ve been meaning to try out some new recipes. Oh yeah and I can finally eat something that’s not Domino’s Pizza. If I see another slice of pepperoni and mushrooms during this winter break it’ll be way too soon.

The rest of the stuff that’s bugging me I won’t let it get me down. All the progress I’ve made on my journey isn’t going to be undone by anything. Not as I long as I choose to keep going.

Audio Documentary.

Hello, my dearest readers. This particular post isn’t really for you, but for my teacher whose given me the chance to do things this way after a major hiccup during a big assignment. If you feel like giving it a lesson, knock yourself out. It’s like I can do anything to stop you. I wasn’t the best student in this audio documentary class but I really did enjoy myself. But be forewarned when it came to the technical aspect of things…I SUCK. Please don’t judge me. It’s been a hard week. I feel like I’ve been through a series of Bloodborne or Dark Souls boss fights…in reality. But with this, I’m officially free. I’m gonna go unwind now…probably play Persona 5 for the millionth time. I dunno yet, the winter break has barely started. I digress. PEACE!

My Intro

Sense of Place
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Poetry

Final Project

Permanence

When I was a kid I was forced to move around a lot. I was born in Columbus, Ohio but when I finished the 2nd grade my family and I moved to Illinois. It’s been so long that I barely remember the name of the place I lived in. I was only there until I finished the 3rd grade. I think the name of the town was Coal Valley. It was close to Moline. That much I can remember.

Then we moved down to the Carolinas where I’ve been living since. First it was Georgetown, South Carolina. Easily the smallest, most rinky dink town I’ve lived in. More so than Boone believe it or not. When I was getting ready to start the 6th grade we moved to a North Carolina town. The only thing I remember about this particular period of my life was this tiny crap shack apartment I had to live in and that I was enrolled in school for only a month. I can’t remember the town’s name, just that it had “Green” in it.

Once that month passed my parents secured their old jobs back in Georgetown where we returned. Mercifully our house hadn’t been sold. When 1999 hit and I was finishing up 6th grade we moved again to North Carolina. This time, it was Charlotte.

I haven’t thought about this in forever. I buried these memories a long time ago just like everything else. The times between each move were always filled with unrest. When it had been confirmed that my Dad had gotten the job in Illinois I remember seeing my Mom cry in the home office that used to be my bedroom. She didn’t want the move to happen. And she hated the house we lived in during Illinois.

I hated leaving every home. I hated having to separate from the few friends I had made. I hated having to start over from scratch all over again. I hated every big change that kept happening in between moves.

There are a few things that stayed consistent in my life during all this. The memories are slowly coming back to me.

I remember I had this pillow that I loved. There was nothing special about it. I just really liked it. I loved snuggling with it, clutching it tight like it was a teddy bear. I had that pillow with me through all my moves. I had it from the time I was in 2nd grade and I didn’t let it go until I was almost 16 years old. I didn’t care how torn up or gross looking it was. It didn’t just provide comfort but it was one of the few things that stayed with me through all 4 states. Recently I’ve noticed that I’ve been seeking comfort with the pillows I have now. Almost like I’ve regressed.

Then there were my childhood heroes; the Ghostbusters and the Power Rangers. I liked Batman and the X-Men too, but I didn’t obsess over them. I collected all sorts of toys, I recorded episodes and watched them obsessively. I even had my own story ideas based on Ghostbusters and Power Rangers that my Georgetown friends and I used to act out. We role-played as our own characters and added in all kinds of stuff. We probably crossed over our Power Rangers with Dragon Ball Z and Batman at some point. Even after moving to Charlotte I kept acting things out in a one-man show type of style. Whenever my parents or brother overheard me or walked in on me you can imagine it was quite awkward. But I didn’t let that stop me. At some point I stopped with the role-plays and I put away my toys, yet I never got around to completely growing out of things.

The move to Charlotte was the worst for me. I had just turned 14, started 7th grade, and was immediately labeled a “fucking faggot” by everyone before I even had a chance to wrap my mind around it. I knew I was different from others before then, but I didn’t place a word on it until I entered Sun Valley Middle. Those kids weren’t just monsters, but they were like prototypes to the jaded, cynical adults that I would grow to hate and never wanted to become.

At that point I kept seeking refuge in the things that gave me the most comfort and I found other interests that did the same thing. That’s when I seriously got into anime and video games. While everyone was busy reading Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings I was saving the worlds of Final Fantasy 8, The Legend of Dragoon, and Brave Fencer Musashi. The only pro-LGBT things I was watching on television back then was Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Sailor Moon. If I were a lesbian I’d probably would’ve been more empowered, but I still enjoyed watching them. By this point I had pretty much cemented my status as a complete nerd.

I had a lot of story ideas in my head. I would imagine characters as if they were my real friends because they weren’t as vile and toxic as the people I knew in my real life. I did the best I could to keep it all contained within myself. I didn’t wanted to share with anyone. Whenever I did share with someone I’d soon come to regret it. So by not sharing anything I thought I was keeping those characters safe from outside interference and the toxicity that came with it.

The only friend I still have from this distant past is Ellison. We met when I was in 4th grade. Our personalities are like night and day. I know I drove him and his brothers crazy. But he still stayed my friend, we still had great sleepovers, and we had a lot of good laughs. A lot of them at my own expense. I lost contact with him for years, but got back in touch with him through the magic of social media. Ellison must’ve been a saint or a monk in a past life because how else would anyone put up with me? He’s more of a brother than my own blood.

Then I grew up. Something I’m beginning to think was a terrible life decision. Seriously…worst advice I ever followed….

I think a huge reason why I am the way I am is because of all the moving. Whenever someone asks me what my big plans are my usual response is, “Nothing really. Just gonna chill at home.”

Or someone, family or friend, suggested going out I’d shut them down, “No! I don’t feel like it!”

When it was time to move away I didn’t have a say in any of it. When Ellison and his family moved away to Maryland I was left behind. Whenever my Dad would always yell at me I always felt powerless in the same way I did when I roamed the hallways of Sun Valley and people would give me those disdainful looks. When my parents fought there was nothing I could do except escape into my own world where everything made more sense.

That’s why I decided for myself…

“I never want to go anywhere or do anything unless it’s under my own terms. No one will decide anything for me anymore.”

“If being an adult means giving up all these things or always being sad and angry about something then I don’t want grow up!”

It might be immature to think that things should stay the same, to deny changes that were inevitable to happen, but I need consistency in my life. I crave for it. What I speak of isn’t a pillow, a superhero, or any of my interests, but something else.

-I need a place of my own to call home.
-I want friends in my real life that aren’t going to disappear on me.
-I want a fairy tale romance. Even if it’s vanilla in other people’s eyes.
-I want to live life under my own terms. Where I’m happy and that’s all that matters.

Now I’m feeling like I’m off the tangent. Cue exit.

See ya.