The Fox and the Blue Bird

Remember when I said that I get signs from the Universe? These signs will come to me in a variety of forms, but no matter what the form it takes it will always get my attention. It’s very rare when they come to me in my dreams (even with the Dream Man), but that’s what happened.

I dreamt that I saw a blue bird and a fox. They came to me in separate scenes. First I saw the blue bird. It’s entire body wasn’t blue, just its wings. But my my mind registered it as a “blue bird” even though the rest of it was black. I was in someone else’s backyard and there it was. It flew and landed on the ground before me.

A little bit after that I saw a fox. Again, I was in the backyard of someone else. I remember because I saw laundry being hung out to dry. I was sitting on this back porch and this fox just walked up to me. It stared at me for a while. And then it helped its way into the house since the backdoor was opened. Someone made a comment about the animal, but they weren’t worried about it coming in. It came out the backdoor almost as soon as it went in. I remember this fox was smiling at me. It smiled at me the same way my favorite dog Jewels would.

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As soon as I was able to wake up I went ahead and looked up what symbolism that they hold.

As far as the blue bird is concerned it’s a definite sign of happiness, a spiritual freedom, and psychological liberation. It coincides with some of my more recent posts. So I can’t ignore it. And I certainly cannot deny that I do feel better about a lot of things. I’ve been tight lipped about it. But I really do feel great. ev

But then there’s the fox. Generally the fox is supposed to represent a tricker. But then things got complicated when I kept seeing different scenarios involving a fox like, “If you dreamt that you killed a fox…” or “If you domesticated a fox…”

In this dream I wasn’t scared of the fox that I saw and the fox smiled at me like Jewels used to which makes me think that it was genuine. I honestly don’t know what to think of it. I’d prefer to not believe that there’s a trickster in my life or that there’s going to be one in the future. I’m just coming out of my shell here and getting past my trust issues. I don’t want to be suspicious of every person I come across now. That’d be like taking ten giant steps back when I’m finally making good steps forward.

Because I had a pleasant experience of looking at the fox then its supposed to mean that positive changes are afoot. I want to believe that this is true. The way things are going now even if there is a trickster somewhere in the foreseeable future he or she cannot undo all the good that’s happening right now unless there are something other than human.

So the better part of my day has revolved around trying to interpret this dream because evidently the Powers That Be seem to think that I’m some walking supernatural braintrust. Oh yeah and while I was waiting for the bus this morning I saw a butterfly for like the millionth time since last year. Except during this time last year the butterflies were dark colored and now they’re getting brighter colors. I keep getting a strange feeling overtime I see one.

Symbolism behind that revolved around resurrection, moving through different phases, transformation, and the world of the soul. “The world of the soul….” What, like the human unconscious? Great, then I’m officially living in the world of Persona then. Maybe I’ll become a Phantom Thief of Hearts. Wonder what my costume would be like? Or my Persona for that matter….

Nerd moment’s over!! Focus!! *slaps himself silly*

So yeah that’s happened. The signs have been very active this past year. Things started off bleak before, but if I’m reading these signs properly then things can only get better from this point on. That’s all fine and dandy, but that doesn’t change the fact that every time I get these signs I’m always left confused trying to make sense of it all.

I guess I’m supposed to just walk on faith and risk total annihilation. I’m just afraid that if I interpret things in the wrong way then…I’ll be punished somehow, all the progress I’ve made will become undone. I’ve had this irrational fear before. Maybe this is all so I can conquer it. I can rule out the “Dream Man” coming to find me. If I start thinking about stuff like that now then it goes against what I had posted over the weekend. I still need to focus on me. I need to focus on loving myself more. I need to get to the point where I can say, “Hey! I’d date me!”

It’d be so much easier if I had some kinda guide for all this. *eyes roll* But nooooooooo…..

Anyway that’s it for now. I’ll figure something out. Someway, somehow.

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Musings of a Broken Dreamer.

Random PenSword Fact #3: I’m Venezuelan-American. But I’ve been mistaken for so many different things. I’ve kept a list of it; Mexican, Puerto Rican, Peruvian, Turkish, Arabian, Egyptian, Greek, Italian, Philippine, Korean, Russian. There are some days where I don’t even know what the fuck I am anymore.

It’s game day here in Boone. Um…yay…

I’m not a football guy. If it was a WWE or UFC event that’d be a different story. Any sports that involve the use of a ball I just cannot get behind it. It doesn’t help that in my Venezuelan household there was always some stupid baseball game playing in the background. Baseball is a huge thing with my Dad. Baseball is hands down the most boring sport ever. Every discussion at the dinner table revolved around baseball. Who’s got the best batting average? Who makes the best pitches? What team is going to the World Series? Whose out with a torn ACL?

It took every ounce of willpower I had to not take my dinner fork and use it to stab my eardrums with it. That’s one thing I really don’t miss about living at home. Oh wait there is one thing worse than hearing people get so excited about baseball. Fucking Nascar…

The fact that my Dad loves the whitest sport in the world proves that we’ve been living down south in the Carolinas for far too long. This concludes the mindless ranting portion of the post.

After the last post where I mentioned that old friend I had gotten really emotional. I started remembering all the talks we had, all the laughter, all the dreams we had together. I was remembering all the good things. I had to fight the temptation to connect with him.

As much as I’d love to catch up with him, what would the point be? I’ve already pointed out that it’s just a cycle of reconnecting that leads to a disconnection. I’d just fall back into repeating a bad habit all over again. Something that’s counter-productive to everything I’m doing to keep my current positive momentum building. Besides that, I get back in contact with him and what then? I have nothing newsworthy to share with him.

I’m in a better place mentally, but I’m not in a position to boast about anything. In fact in a lot of ways I’m still that same kid with lofty dreams.

We dreamt of going to Japan together. We dreamt of becoming writers and having our work published. We dreamt about making it big in the world. We called ourselves A&A Inc, to represent our names. We dreamt the most loftiest of lofty dreams.

I used to get the biggest high from those dreams. I remembered feeling that passion, that desire to work toward them. I remember those dreams coming back to me at the age of 23 after I tried killing myself. I remember when those dreams returned they came back with greater intensity as if to prove that I was no longer in that dark place I kept myself in the furthest depths of my ruined mind.

Those dreams meant the world to me. They still do to this day. That’s why I overreacted the way that I did back then when he ran away from home and didn’t say anything to me about what he was going through at the time. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that he turned his back on the dreams we shared as friends. I felt like he “sold out” and I remember vowing that I wouldn’t give in. No matter how grueling reality would become I wouldn’t give up on anything. I wanted to carry on with those dreams and realize them for myself. Without even thinking about it that mindset is what brought me to this point.

I’m don’t feel any closer to fulfilling those dreams than I was all those years ago with my friend. Now that I think about it I might have tried taking one too many short cuts along the way. Trying to find a suitable someone to replace that friendship that we had, someone who shared the same vision as me, someone who I could happily speak to about the same interests we share. But that went nowhere. And look where I’m at now. Even the friends I did make after the seperation are no longer by my side.

I remember the first signs of changes in me when I walked away the first time. Everything felt so foreign to me in the beginning; I came out officially not long after that, I fell in love with someone for the first time, I was speaking my thoughts without fear, I was more honest with myself, I took more risks. And after my first stint in therapy I felt all that increase by 100 fold. I felt powerful. I felt like I was no longer the child that my friend saw in me.

Now I’m starting to think that last part was all an illusion. I have this moments where I feel like I never changed at all. Like I’m still stuck in the past. I don’t want to be, but now that I think about him it’s all leading back to that moment.

“Until we’ve truly learned our lesson we will be given the same test again and again”. What am I’m supposed to be learning here?

That I’m some immature, selfish little brat that throws tantrums when reality gets in the way of things? That I can’t change reality? That I can’t take on the world? What?! What big lesson is there I’m supposed to be taking from all of this?

As usual I’m lost. There’s a lot that I do know and all I can do is stick to what I do know. I can’t focus on the things that I cannot do, but always make it about the things that I can do. I can’t let go of those dreams. There’s something in me that just refuses to let go. I can let go of the past and the bitter idea that my old friend and I have grown so far apart. But I can’t give up on Japan, writing, getting published, and wanting better for myself. This much I know is right.

The answers will come to me in one way or another. Right now I don’t want to forget the good times I had with that friend even though it came to an end. I’ve been fighting those memories as if they were my “Nightmares”. It’s like keeping them locked in Pandora’s Box in my mind. Maybe my answers are in those memories. But that doesn’t change the fact that I cannot ever go back to the way things were. That’s a dream I learned to let go.

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Nostalgic Boners and Toxic Fandoms

Warning: The following is an uber nerd rant that might go on for a long time. You’ve been warned. Now it’s time to get my geek on.

I joined up with some fan forums last night. Quite unlike me because I’ve done my best to avoid mingling with fandoms. I used to kick it with the nerd clique which I liked to call “Nerdcore” or “The Nerd Herd” because I figured it’s only natural to want to be around people with similar interests. Did we end up getting along? Yes for the most part. Were there conflicts based on individual tastes, thoughts, and opinions? Yuuuuuuup…..

There are some cancerous people in the nerd community. Straight up. I always end up running into them. It’s an inevitability. It’s a problem when they come in swarms like insects. It becomes an even bigger problem when it seems like you’re under constant attack for the things that you like.

I’m guilty of liking a lot of stuff that’s not popular with other people. Where do I begin?

The anime series, Blood-C. Not for everyone, especially if you’re the squeamish type. It had so much gore that it made Elfen Lied look like a Disney film by comparison. But it actually had a plot that played a good psychological example of Nature vs Nurture and combining it with the whole “Truman Show” scenario. Could it have been executed in a different way? Yes, absolutely. But I think people were so turned off because viewers just had zero patience and didn’t pay attention to what was happening in the episodes that built up toward the end. There were hints everywhere, clear as day. Plus during the last episode there’s a lot more information that’s dropped on everyone’s laps but people don’t get the whole picture. They don’t get the whole picture because they didn’t take the time to put all the puzzle pieces together.

I liked the Ghostbusters and Power Ranger movies that recently came out. Were they perfect? No, of course they’re not perfect. There’s no such thing as perfection. That’s an illusion that people use to set themselves up for disappointment. Are they gonna win any Oscars? I fucking doubt it. But they don’t deserve all the hate that they get from movie viewers and Rotten Tomatoes. The Ghostbusters backlash is purely sexist, nothing more than that. Was it better than the original films back in the 80’s? No, but it wasn’t a complete shit show. It wasn’t a total flop. It could’ve been so much worse than people make it out to be. The same thing with the Power Rangers movie. Rotten Tomatoes labeled it a “box office failure”. Who did the reviewing? Toxic fans who grew up into jaded cynical adults or jaded cynical adults that never watched the original show at all? I loved both those films. I walked out of the movie theater with no regrets and I didn’t feel like my childhood was shat on.

I like some of the more unpopular Final Fantasy titles. My first FF game was Final Fantasy 8 and I fucking loved playing it. It was the second RPG I ever played. That first walkthrough was memorable to me because there was so much trial and error from how I played it and it made the battles especially difficult. Both factors made it all the more gratifying when I finally did beat the game. Is FF8 the best title in the franchise? Does it have the most compelling characters? The biggest replay value? The most amazing plot? No to all of that. But I love FF8 for sentimental reasons. Plus at the time I was playing it I wasn’t looking for any of that in the first place and I didn’t know any of the stuff back then that I know now. So I didn’t label Squall as an emo. Or the romance with Rinoa as uninspired? And I’m not so nerdy that I try to dissect the plot and complain at everything like….”How do you compress time? That doesn’t seem so terrifying…”

Oh yeah and when I was reading the manga, “Claymore”, it pissed someone off so bad that they yelled at me, “That’s just a rip off of Berserk! No, it’s just Berserk with boobs!”

Do you see the pattern here? This is what I call “Pulling a Jon Joel”. Because there was this one asshole in the Nerd Herd circle named Jon Joel who would walk up to you, start up a conversation like so, “What anime/video games are you into?” You proceed to give him an answer and then he responds with, “That’s fucking bullshit! I can’t stand that stuff! I can’t stand those characters! The protagonist is a complete faggot and you’re a faggot for even liking that show!”

Because the whole point of Jon Joel conversing with you is to tear apart everything you love and talk about what he loves because no way he would ever pick a bad anything. He was the sort of extreme weeb who loved to hear the sound of his own voice, bask in the smell of his own shit, and had a butter face that even his own mother would love to throw a brick at. He’s just one of many people who I feel epitomizes that toxic fandom behavior.

Whatever happened with “To each his/her own”? Or common human decency for that matter. I joined up with these forums on some dumb whim and I see so much of that toxic fandom going on just skimming through the site. I almost want to rant in a forum about how the Ghostbusters or Power Rangers movie didn’t suck but I know it’s gonna attract people who will disagree. And the last thing that I want is to have to breathe in more poison than I’ve already have for most of my life.

See? Told ya I was gonna rant. Lately I’ve been indulging myself in a lot of things from my childhood. Nerdy things like Sailor Moon, reading fan fiction, playing retro playstation games, etc. It’s partly depression treatment, going back to my roots and reviving interests that were dying out. The other reason is that naturally they’re all creative fuel for me.

I’m trying to get more serious about my fiction writing. I don’t want to invite anyone else into this fold because past experience tells me that’s not a good idea. People won’t operate on the same wavelength as me and I need to be able to trust myself when I’m writing, especially if I have any chance of making a career out of it. Some of my creative projects are gonna be based off those nerdy nostalgic things that I love so much.

I find myself constantly making a lot of announcements for intentions, but here I go. It won’t be the last time I’ll be doing this. One of the biggest things I’ve struggled with while trying to write is constantly fearing that my ideas aren’t good enough or I’m always giving up on things before I ever truly give them a chance. This is a bad habit that I’m trying to get out of. There’s also the many other facets that come from wanting to write, but that’s the stuff for a whole other blog entry (although I’m fairly certain one of my older posts already covered that). I want to lead a depression free life which I believe can be achieved through writing. I want to write my stories without anymore fear, shame, or self-hate aimed at myself and I need to be comfortable in my own skin to do that. I need to be comfortable with myself by being real with my shit. (Being Real…oh look there’s another throwback to a previous post.)

My New Intentions
1. I want to enjoy the things that make me feel alive.
2. I want to better love myself without reservation.
3. I want to be able to voice my thoughts and opinions without fear.
4. I want to write for me and worry about all the other stuff later.
5. I want to complete at least one creative project before I end up finishing things at App State.
6. I want to break out of self-harming thoughts that have been tying me down.
7. I want to engage with people who aren’t so toxic and leave me to do my own thing without judgement.
8. I want to be comfortable with myself.
9. I want to go after everything that I want without fear in my heart.
10. I want to take better care of myself.
11. I want to live intentionally.
12. I want to forgive myself for never being good enough in the eyes of others or even to myself. Forgive myself for every little thing that I’ve perceived as a failure or defeat. Forgive myself for being different from others. Forgive myself from making progress at my own pace. Finally forgive myself for ever getting lost in life.

I’m done. Later days.

My Own Little World

I’ve been quite the reclusive writer as of late. An escape from reality for me was long overdue anyway. I found a bunch of old drafts and ideas that I had jotted down for the many stories that I never finished or barely started. I feel like I’m reconnecting with old friends whenever I read up on old characters and feeling like I’m reconnecting with my own self as well.

It was always my plan to get back to my writing roots and start back from scratch with my stories and other creative projects. When things in reality turn incredibly ugly like with what’s been happening after the Charlottesville incident and the like it makes it easier to escape. It makes me imagine a world that I’d rather be apart of and people I’d vastly prefer than the people I know.

Of course these escapes can only last for so long. There’s always something in my reality that’s always calling me back against my will; academic responsibilities, people who need me, the fact that I’m going to have my hands filled with other stuff like paying off bills and debts, finding a real job, being a normal functioning member of society….ya’know? All that good stuff.

I’ve been keeping my distance from other people in my life. Including friends I’ve had before I left for Boone. At first I didn’t want to have to deal with people and hear about how great their lives were when I was struggling for the longest time with everything. But now it’s the opposite. Some of them are having their own share of problems as well. If I were the same person I was three years ago then I’d take the time to listen, to help them unload their burden. But I’m not that person anymore. I’ve got problems of my own to worry about. The current state of the world sure doesn’t help either. I don’t need a constant reminder of how horrible things are with Trump in the White House, a bunch of Neo-Nazi shit heads looking to cause trouble, or whatever other issue of the week keeps going on; police brutality, ISIS, and the constant starvation and poverty in Venezuela where my family is from. I see all of this on my social media so I’m forced to disconnect.

The world as I know it now is a toxic place to live in for people like me that deal with depression and anxiety and for those that don’t. I don’t want to run away from reality because I know I have to learn to deal with it all. But I’m only one person with limited means of doing so and my patience can only last for so long.

Normally I’d be questioning myself and overthink things like, “Does this make me a bad person?” “Am I a coward?” Or something to that effect.

But I know that’s not the case. I’m making a choice based on self-preservation. If the world is toxic then it makes sense that someone doesn’t want to be exposed to it. And I genuinely don’t care if anyone disagrees with me on this. This is for me, not for them. Besides even if I wan’t to do something to change the world on an epic scale I can’t do that when I’m not even 100% in the clear with my own issues.

All I have is myself, my writing, and an imagination that’s the closest thing I have to a cure-all. I used to believe that indulging myself in my writing consistently meant that I was just running away from everything; the state of the world, the things that fuel my depression, being single and lonely, drowning in crippling debt, and overall things not going my way. But that doesn’t have to be the case. Losing myself in my own world could be beneficial. I’m not just talking about getting a head start on my writing career. But perhaps in writing I’ll find answers to questions about myself that have bothered me for the longest time and learn how to better understand the reality I live in and better cope with the things that challenge me. That’s what I believe anyway.

In my own little world there are things that come straight from the fantasy novels. Monsters, sorcery, giant mechs, superheroes, etc etc. Sometimes I think a world where these things are included automatically mean I’d be living in a better reality. At least then things would make more sense. There’d be heroes fighting the good fight against the villains and make them pay for their crimes. I wouldn’t be struggling to figure what’s truly right or wrong. I’d know which side to fight on.

In my own little world people are not judged on their religion, their gender, who they’re attracted to, the color of their skin, the languages they speak, or whatever interests they have. People are not defined by their struggles or anything else that makes them feel like dirt about themselves. People are defined by their desires and the actions that they take to make those desires into reality.

People wouldn’t have to struggle over things like money, food, medicine, education, and if anyone or anything gets in the way of these things then they’d go down.

In my own little world that I’m trying to make into a reality…
I’m happy with a man that I love and want to spend the rest of my days with. I’m successful in my career as a writer. I live in a beautiful home. I’ve graduated from App State. I’m depression-free.

Thats all got to say tonight. Later.

Warrior “Monk”

Anyone remember this show? Tony Shalhoub played this dude named Adrian Monk who suffers from severe Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and an endless list of phobias. He was afraid of everything. Even milk for some reason. Don’t know if they covered the reason why. Maybe it was just a running gag. Despite all this he was a genius detective. He had this attention to detail all the other cops on the show lacked. He was always able to find the clues, piece them together, and finally catch the bad guys. He managed to do all of this despite of the OCD or whatever phobia of the week he had to face head on. He was always being forced into situation that challenged him and he had to seriously nut up and endure.

When my anxiety and depression act up I keep thinking that I’ve suddenly turned into Monk. And I mean that in a negative light. Monk was always driving people up the wall with his fears and obsessive compulsion. Even his therapists had trouble dealing with him sometimes and could only handle him in small doses. I feel like Monk in situations where I feel like I get triggered by stupid shit like the ones I’ve mentioned before, I have difficulties doing what normal people have no problems with at all, and sometimes driving people insane with my issues, be it family or friends.

I shared this with my counselor in a previous session. I vented out my frustrations about it and he was understanding. But then he asked me this, “Why exactly would that be a bad thing?” I thought I had already answered that while I was ranting about it.

Just like when he brought up the analogy on the mind as a muscle something about the Monk analogy I made with him is sticking with me. This was last week and now I’m beginning to seriously think about it and I have all these thoughts about it.

Even though Monk had numerous phobias that would obstruct him he accomplished so many things that I would’ve considered impossible if I were him. He did have friends, good friends. Yeah, he drove them crazy sometimes but they accepted him as he was. Monk’s OCD allowed him to pay better attention to things and made him an excellent detective, it didn’t have to be a bad thing for him. Monk had a wonderful wife in Trudy who loved him just as he was. Monk worked tirelessly for years searching for clues to solve Trudy’s murder and when he did Monk still had his happy ending. He found out that Trudy had a daughter before marrying him and was able to meet her in the very last episode.

Here’s a crazy theory. What if instead of fighting my “Monk-ish” side, I embrace it? I bitch and moan about how I feel like a freak sometimes and unable to be normal like everybody else. But then there’s a part of me that says, “Fuck normal”. BTW I totally have a t-shirt that reads, “Normal People Scare Me”. I saw it on the first episode of American Horror Story and I thought, “Oh yes! It will be mine!” I even got it in purple. Trying to fit in with the mundane crowd is so exhausting and utterly pointless. Nothing about me has ever been “normal”. There are days where I don’t even feel like I live a “quasi-normal” existence.

I come from a Venezuelan family and I grew up as the pet gringo. I refused to speak the language and I barely ate any of the food. I’m still not a fan of some of the food. It’s only interesting and exotic for people who never had to grow up in a Spanish-speaking household and be forced to smell and eat it at every occasion; holidays, birthdays, family gatherings, baby showers, etc. I’m the least tanned in my family too and I see no point in it. I don’t see the appeal in sizzling in the sun and getting cooked like a rotisserie chicken. I mean look at Trump’s complexion. It’s not doing him favors. But then again his skin tone is more what I call “Dorito Raped”.

I’m gay and I am willing embrace only so many cliches. I’m probably the only gay guy who doesn’t give a single, solitary fuck about Rupaul’s Drag Race, quote “Mean Girls”, or own a single Madonna album. Oh I am not gifted with song and dance either. Take one good look at me and you can clearly see that I’m not a gym rat either.

I live in my own world. I find more comfort in the story worlds and characters I create, in WWE, video games, anime, films, cooking, and imagination. I cope with reality through the use of my imagination. I see myself as a warrior, I see my skills as powers that I naturally possess, I see my challenges as monsters that I have to fight and take down. It’s an unorthodox way to deal with stuff, but we all have our ways to cope. I could be coping in ways that are self-destructive with drug habits or self-mutilation or God knows what else. I see what people don’t see or never want to see out of fear, conformity, or sheer laziness. That’s a quote from the movie Patch Adams by the way, when Patch spoke with Arthur Mendelson at the mental institution.

I suffer from depression and anxiety. But there has been some good that comes from it. It’s attributed to my imagination and wicked sense of humor. God only knows that if my entire life was nothing but sugar and rainbows then I’d have absolutely nothing to write about. It’s made me stronger, a lot stronger than I was eight years ago when I wanted to kill myself. It’s made me realize how much I want certain things. And when I say “I want” I mean it in the same way people feel intense hunger. Its helped make me into the person that I am today. Its always made me have to take a good look at myself in the most honest way possible. Whenever I get lost I always take a trip back to me. It’s not always pleasant, but it’s always been instrumental in getting back to the right path.

I’m a warrior in my own right. I fight one battle after another within my mind. I’m a neurotic mess. I’m not normal and I’m tired of trying to be when it’s never been in the cards for me. I feel things more intensely than others, I know things they don’t have any clue of, I can do things that other can’t, and get labeled a “freak” for all of it when I find that to be a lot more preferable than being boring and fake.

If being a “freak” is what separates me from everybody else then I will proudly wave my freak flag. I will happily accept who I am and live with whatever consequences come with it. Because if I act otherwise then I’ll never be able to make peace with myself and not have the true happiness that I’ve been seeking. So I embrace my identity as a Warrior “Monk”.

Within my Minds Eye

A good friend of mine recently spoke to me about the Laws of Attraction. I do believe that thoughts become things and that the things we put out we attract to ourselves. I’m trying to go back to actively putting creative visualization back into my life which includes believing in the Laws of Attraction.

Remember I mentioned that at one point I was living a depression free life for close to two years? During that time I was deep into it. It was part of my Dreamcatcher Project. There weren’t any intense battles with inner demons going on at the time. Not that I remember anyway. But even if there were I wasn’t fighting anything like the Babadook, that’s for sure.

My friend was wondering if sharing dreams with others and talking about them somehow jinxed things. I answered, “No, not necessarily. I think it’s important to let your intentions be known. Not just to friends, but also to the Universe. I used to believe that so fervently. But I think I’m on my way back to it. When I realized to myself that I’m standing in my own way it made me realize that I never lost that part of myself. I never lost the better version of myself. I never lost my strength. I never “lost my powers”. It’s always been in me and I think I can feel it all coming back.

I especially felt this the other day during my little scare with the EIT and the registration hold placed on me. I’m not as nervous as I normally get before a new semester starts up. I think it’s a sign that I’m ready for whatever challenges are ahead.

Which is why I’m taking the moment to focus on what things I want to happen; dreams to realize and goals to accomplish, big or small. These are my immediate goals. Bigger, long term goals will be shared at a later time.

1. I’m going to meet up with the EIT and set things straight with them. Whatever resources they’ve got to offer me I will make use of it. Especially if it means that it will keep me out of the Cottages. Because the last thing I need is to spend anymore time in that Hellhole than I have to.
2. I’m going to pick myself back up from my failures and kick ass. The way things ended last semester was bad. It’s put me in a tight spot. I take responsibility for my own actions. I won’t place the blame on anyone or anything else, depression or no depression.
3. I’m going to go back to studying Japanese and continuing practicing Spanish. Learning and practicing different languages is always a good thing. I was registered to keep studying Japanese but due to the strict scheduling (oral lab included) I had no choice but to drop it. It hurt leaving it behind. I’m almost certain that dropping that class was an omen. I don’t want to forget what I learned in that class so I’m going to study it all on my own.
4. I’m going to keep learning how to cook. I’m going to get better at it. I’m going to master new recipes from the following Youtube channels; Cooking with Dog, Ochikeron, and Maangchi.
5. I’m getting that house. I’ve done everything that I’m supposed to do. The manager clearly knows how persistent I am. I’m getting along with the people who responded to my roommate ad and they’re on board with me.
6. I’m going to keep losing weight. I never want to put on depression weight again. Cooking helped me lose close to 40 pounds, but I’m going to do more. I want to get into shape.
7. I will engage in other interests that will allow me to enjoy myself outdoors.
8. I will sit and get to work on my novel whenever I’m not tied down with anything else. If I have to I’ll give up on video games and cancel streaming services if it means I’ll be able to get it all done.
9. I’m going to stick to my guns and keep fighting back against my depression. I won’t allow it to have any control over my life anymore than it already has. I will attend counseling at App State. If I have to exhaust all 10 free sessions and then go to a paid professional I will do it. I’m not going to fight alone anymore.
10. I’m going to go back to enjoy movies like I used to. There are so many great films that I’ve missed out on over the past three years.
11. I’m going back to enjoying anime like I used to. I’m not much a vintage nerd without it. It’s a big part of who I am. I don’t want to walk away from it. The same goes for all aspects of myself.
12. I will put myself out there more. I won’t hide from the world anymore. No matter how ugly it gets. I’m done being a lone wolf. I should be allowed to have friends and someone to love like anyone else.
13. I will laugh more than I have cried.
14. I will smile more than I have frowned.
15. I will celebrate more than I have despaired.
16. I will continue to live. I still have unfinished business. Lots of it.
17. Anything that tries to bring me down, I will destroy it. I’m done losing battles and having to die and come back from it all. I’m done torturing myself for having weaknesses.

I hope that from now on I’ll be able to write something positive to share with everyone. Within my minds eye I no longer see these things as something impossible to have anymore.

WillNotLoseMyShit……

So yesterday I was really excited about finding my dream house being advertised and how I applied for it. I posted an ad asking for roommates. I told them the perks of having me as a roommate. I’m getting a lot of responses. I’m attracting a lot of attention to the place. But now I’m getting a little antsy.

My anxiety is trying to take over and do the thinking for me. I’m fighting it. I’m trying to be calm. I’m breathing, I’m typing, I’ve got Sense8 season two playing on Netflix, I’m trying to find a happy mental place.

What’s the problem? The last time I was happy about finding a place and was positive that things were going to work out I got blind sided and things fell apart. Plus because a lot of people are now interested in this place I’m starting to wonder if I’m making more trouble for myself.

I’ve turned in my application for the place. But does that really secure my spot? The manager asked if I had roommates in mind. His exact words that followed were “Will need enough people to cover the entire lease before we move forward”.

Plus there’s already this one person who says she’s got a whole group ready when she responded. Now it’s triggering thoughts like:

“Did I fuck up?” “Was I supposed to have people ready before I applied?” “Do I have the place or not?” “Who decides the roommate selection? The manager or me?” “Is there more work for me that I have to do?” “This is too good to be true. Remember the last time it was too good to be true?” “What do I do if things go wrong again?”

Followed by “I will not lose my shit. I will not lost my shit. Iwillnotlosemyshit Iwillnotlosemyshit Iwillnotlosemyshit Iwillnotlosemyshit Iwillnotlosemyshit Iwillnotlosemyshit.”

And then it goes into an infinite loop.

I’ve mailed questions to the manager. I have no idea when the guy will back to me. Everyone is always so conveniently busy when I need answers or any type of favor.

I want to believe that I will get that place. I want to believe that I’m not going to be stuck in the shithole Cottages any longer than I already have. I want to keep it positive and I want to keep it going. I don’t want to let something else to do the thinking and feeling for me.

So here I go….