No More “Matt Damon”ing through Life

As of now I am free from this summer semester. I finished my final exam for photojournalism which was only 12 questions of matching terms, short answers, and fill in the blanks whereas the review sheet made it look like it was going to be 12 pages worth of shit. I was like, “Ok that was easy….”

Then I pay my tuition for the fall. Holy hell! I hope to God my refund kicks in faster than this private loan did. Speaking of, the loan check finally made it to my Mom. But she can’t do shit about it until I get back home because apparently I have to sign it first. Meanwhile I have -$149.50 in my account. Motherfucker what?!!

I can’t even buy pizza or a cup of coffee with that. Oh and I have little to no food at right now. Once again I’m in that Matt Damon situation, “I got to science the hell out of this shit!”

So I call my Mom and tell her whats up. Mostly to tell her that I need cash now! But also to let her know that I’m done with classes and I’m happy with my new home. I have farm animals that live next door to me. Cows, goats, donkeys!! The goats even stumbled into our front yard and starting eating up the grass. I’m like, “Welp….there’s our lawn maintenance right there!”

I dropped a class that was in my schedule in favor of something better. I got a full schedule that’s worth 12 credit hours, but I put myself on the waiting list for this one class that’s required for my degree. I hope to get into it so I can drop one class that I added as just a filler. Other than that, it’s a nice looking schedule. Tuesdays and Thursdays are going to be my light days and I’ll only have to go to one class on Fridays so that’s almost a free day!

My financial aid is finally back to normal! No obstructions whatsoever! Those guys at the main office had me doing all sorts of circus acts just to get back on their good side! I feel like I did everything except take part of an Pagan orgy just to get that cash to payback my Mom.

Finally I feel like I’m crashing down completely. I’m finally feeling full blown exhaustion from these last three months. I had to power through this shit and act like it wasn’t phasing me one bit. Now is the part where I fall to my bed and feel like dying. Metaphorically, not suicidal.

I miraculously managed to scrounge up what food I did have left over and make some udon noodle soup. Which ended up tasting kinda bland. Not my best work. My defense I had no soy sauce and no money to get some. Oh and I managed to burn my hands with the soup being scalding hot. I was so hungry, I rushed to get the bowl to the table to eat, and the next thing I know I feel the soup splash into my hands. I rushed over to the sink and washed them under cold water. I filled up this large bowl with ice water and kept my left hand plunged in it while eating my bland noodle soup.

The money my Mom deposited doesn’t kick in until tomorrow morning. Who the fuck makes up these stupid processes? Money should be made available ASAP. I’m ranting. Clearly I’m ranting.

Anyone whose read one of my previous posts, “Being Real” will get this reference. The last few days I felt familiar knots being tied up in my stomach and sense of dread hanging over me. I felt like I was getting ready to deal with my personal Babadook again. Remember that? I panicked because I was afraid to open up some emails, go online to pay my tuition, or do anything else that any normal person is able to do without any kind of problems? That’s what was going on in my mind. It didn’t help that I was dealing with one big assignment after another until recently. I had it in my mind that I missed the tuition deadline like I did before even though I have been keeping up with my student email this entire summer. Universities have to deliver a warning that says “Your classes are gonna get dropped if you don’t pay up now.” I didn’t see anything like that in my inbox, but I still felt the dread.

The Babadook is speaking to me, feeding me more distorted lies…

“It’s over…”
“You’ve lost…”
“It was all for nothing…”

In my mind I balled up both my fists and punched the shit out of that son of a bitch and watched him fall down hard like a tower of bricks. Then I went on and did my thing, knocked down every thing that blows my anxieties out of control.

Final exam. Done.
Call up Mommy for money. Done
Return my one textbook. Done
Tuition payment. Done.
Schedule change. Done
Add/wait list another class. Done.
Contact a soul sucking professor that I’m not crazy about so I can make up for bombing her class. Done.

If I could, I’d be eating the biggest slices of pepperoni, mushrooms, black olives, and banana peppers right now. Then chase them down with beer. I still think beer tastes like bottled up piss but it still gets the job done. Makes me chill the fuck out. Until I’m at a point where I can stop pinching pennies I have to hope that my noodle soup keeps me full for the night. Otherwise….I got a box of Cheeze-Its that are somewhat stale that I can down.

I feel like this was the summer that I rocked the cliche of a starving artist and college student. It’s not like I embraced it by choice though.

I go back to my hometown on Thursday. Tomorrow I want to have one day of peace to myself before going back, dealing with parents and cousins that ask one too many questions, a father who sucks the life out of the room and gets pissed off drinking water, and being surrounded by a bunch of kids who are obsessed with bunnies, Skylanders, and fidget spinners. By the way I fucking hate those things. That shit doesn’t kill anxiety. That’s what nutella is for!!

Oooo Nutella…..*finds a jar and digs in*

While I’m at home though I’m gonna chill and finally take the time to enjoy the things that make me fucking happy.

1. Spending time with my cousins and their kids.
2. Playful bickering with my Mom
3. Watching WWE events. I waited a VERY long time for NXT Takeover Brooklyn and that Mae Young Classic goddamnit!!
4. Binge watching Once Upon a Time. I’m working on a story that involves fairy tales for inspiration. So I’m marathoning the show and calling it research. When in reality I’m oogling Captain Hook. Colin O’Donoghue….*fans himself*
5. Going to G Mart. I’ve been craving the Korean food there for weeks. I want bibimbap, gimbap, bulgogi, japchae, all of it!!
6. I want to sit down and keep writing the things I love writing about nonstop without having anything hang over my head for the next two weeks.
7. Get back into gaming. Preferably get into a title that’s not Persona 5.
8. Eat food that I didn’t buy with my own money because parents can’t do shit to stop me so I’m gonna take advantage of it because I’m sick of ‘Matt Damon”ing my way through life!! No!! I want to Homer Simpson through the buffet lines! Shamelessly stuff my face like Pam Poovey! And make food that’s so good that it drives a person into a fevered pitch of uncontrollable ecstasy that’s so intense that their clothes will explode like in Shokugeki no Soma!!! And that’s what will get me a spot on Chef’s Table….

Good times are about to be had. Now is a good time to sign off. I just finished the last of that nutella. Now after all that food talk I’m probably gonna go ahead and finish off those Cheese Its.

Later days

An Update on My Life

So, I finally did it. I moved into my new home, Sparonest. Yay!! I was the first to move in and get set up. It was an eventful day. It was such a rush to pack up all of my stuff and leave the Cottages of Boone. I gave the main office both middle fingers as I left for the new house.

My parents got to see the inside of the place for the very first time. My mom loves it. My dad on the other hand…he fucking hates it. It was a constant bitchfest with him. Of course, I expected nothing less from my old man. He is the type of guy that gets pissed off just drinking water after all. He stubbed his toe twice while walking around the house. I don’t feel sorry for him. His own fault for having two left feet and zero patience for anything.

I had to downsize like 60% of my stuff when I moved in. I took what I needed and would make the most use of and gave the rest to my parents for them to take back home. I have the smallest room with a slanted ceiling in the second floor, but that doesn’t bother me. My roommates are already super cool. My female roommate has been so nice to me and she helped a lot when it came to organizing the room and settling some of my stuff in other parts of the house. She’s got a cat who’s a little attention whore, but I’m actually grown attached to the little fur ball.

My other roommate has a big ass dog. Remember watching the original Ghostbusters film? Remember Zuul? Yeah, he’s that big. And he’s only 16 months. But he’s not a bad dog. He’s all right.

Oh yeah and my manager is a total cutie. Both me and the chick wanted to seduce him. Sadly, though it appears he’s taken. But hey, I can still dream.

I love it here. It’s only been a little more than a week, but I’m already a lot happier here than I ever was at the Cottages. I’ve washed my hands clean of that place permanently.

I’m almost done with this summer semester, thank God. This entire summer has been nothing but madness. The only thing that can make up for that is pumpkin spiced everything, cooler weather, and not having to deal with the constant time crunch of assignments in a five-week session.

I still have my moments where stress and anxiety build up. I’m doing the best I can to power through it all. It doesn’t help that I concluded counseling offered at the school. Plus, the stress of moving and the constant photo assignments. I’m a little behind with my photography, but mercifully my professor isn’t a complete monster and she’s offering me the chance to turn in my stuff late. Right now, that’s my primary stressor. There was also the matter of my tight financial situation. But it’s finally getting better. My private loan refund is finally kicking in so I can pay my mom back the money that I owe her and I go back to using financial aid like I normally do. That was giving me the most problems.

Now all I have left to do is to power through the rest of this summer session and complete the rest of my photo assignments. I do love taking pictures, but I hate the technical side of it all.

“Remember everybody to go at it through this angle. Don’t use that setting, use this setting. Make sure that flash bounces off the wall. Your photo better includes a living subject, but no felines! Humans only!”

Gimme a fucking break…

It doesn’t help that I got slim pickings for photo subjects. Boone is a small town after all. How small? I’d say as small as ET’s nonexistent nut sack. But I’m going to manage something. I’ve been through worse challenges after all. And it’s almost time for the fall semester. I just need to grit my teeth and power through things until then. I’m tougher than I was before. And I continue to keep getting stronger with the positive momentum that I got building up. I refuse to go back to the person that I was before any of this. I’ve already come too far.

So that’s where I am in my life right now. Update complete! Now if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna cook some tuna fried rice and get my photo equipment ready for tomorrow! Later days!

I Survived The Cottages

There should be t-shirts that read, “I survived the Cottages of Boone”. Tomorrow is the big moving day. From Cottages to Sparonest. Naturally my anxieties were acting up earlier. I was suddenly dreading that something was going to go horribly wrong. I’ve had this feeling for I don’t know how long. A feeling like I’m always missing something or that I’m doing something wrong even after I’ve done everything that I was supposed to do.

I texted the managers with my concerns and mentioned that I was feeling jittery and the dude called me back. He was actually concerned. To my surprise I’m like, “Son of a bitch, he’s a human being after all!”

I will be the first one to move in so I will have the place to myself until the day after when roommates start coming in. So I’m calm now after the manager answered the questions that were nagging at me today. But damn….I can’t believe I still have trouble with stuff like this.

Last week was my last counseling session so I feel like I have to fend for myself. I can’t help but feel like I have to keep my guard raised at all times. A big reason being is that I’m just not used to things going my way. Plus moving is a big thing for me. The whole thing has given me cold feet from the very beginning. It’s been one nerve wracking experience after another since this entire summer began. Part of me still feels trapped in darker times before that too. So this move is really the big step forward that I needed. Finding the place and applying for it wasn’t enough. I need to move in to make it feel official. Maybe then I can give myself permission to be happy.

Watch me go out of my way to get some sage or holy water to do a blessing on every square inch of this house. I’ll be doing the same chant the old Uncle in “Jackie Chan’s Adventure” did. Anyone know what I’m talking about?

Yuumo gwei gwai fai dee zao…and then he’d repeat this in a loop. I should probably make it into my own mantra for the shits and giggles.

I’m going to make my intentions clear to the universe. I want to produce all the good that I can to outweigh all the bad. I want my last year at Appalachian State to be a positive one. And I want to find the thing that makes all the struggles worth it. I will make it my mission to assure that things don’t return to the way they used to be. And whatever challenges stand in my way I will show it NO MERCY.

Tomorrow will be the official first day of a better life. Now I’m gonna go back to packing up my things before I jinx things. Later days!

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”.

The Mind as a Muscle

So let’s recap on my last few days. I was feeling good about the exams I took last week. I got my results on the math exam the next day. I did good! I did really good! After that exam day I felt so good. My entire weekend was a huge happy high. I treated myself to a Wild Bill Burger at Macado’s. It was my first time eating there. Not a bad place, my only complaint is that the table I sat at was sticky. I went back to the apartment and cooked up something real nice and tasty. I binged the new season of Orange is the New Black (loved this new season btw!) and played the hell out of more Persona 5 (turns out it’s not completely out my system). It was the first time I felt happiness with no strings attached. And I was able to sleep in till 9:00 and it was fucking amazing!

But then….

Monday came. I woke up way too early. I woke up at maybe 4 or 5:00 AM and couldn’t go back to sleep. I felt very meh. I had this feeling of impending doom hanging over my head. At first I figured it was just the usual blahs that you get from Mondays being Mondays. But then I got the exam score for my other class. It wasn’t so good. I forgot my math homework for that day too. Mercifully the law professor was very understanding on why people didn’t do so good on the first test. He even offered to “discount” that low grade. The catch is that I have to do better the next time. The same is true for everybody else in that class. I have a good feeling of where I went wrong. I know what to expect for next time. My math teacher is very cool. She said it was okay to turn in everything a day late. And I did. One of the assignments was to take the picture of someone who we find to be beautiful and take measurements to see if it’s close to Phi.

I chose Finn Balor’s face btw. My favorite superstar in the WWE. He has the face of a Hollywood movie star, the body of an underwear model, and he has a nerdy side…

Celebrity Sightings in New York City - August 22, 2016

I mean look at this gorgeous man! Look at him!! He’s this good looking, he’s nice, he’s strong, and he loves playing with legos on top of other nerdy stuff! Do you realize how fucking rare that is?! He’s a fucking unicorn!!

I even added “My Future Husband” on the assignment. I had to show some restraint from saying, “My Irish Unicorn.” “My Finnamon Bun”. “My Little Sweet Ass.” I held back…*pats himself on back* And the teacher liked him. Of course she didn’t know what the WWE is. This was earlier today. Back to what happened on Monday.

I felt bothered by the low score on the other exam. I had to stop myself from getting lost in depressing thought. That feeling of impending doom kept hanging over me the whole day. So when I got back from classes I hit the kitchen and spent two hours cooking and making a bento lunch and dinner for the night. I treated myself to my favorite sorbet too.

Then I opened up my student email. Remember that one entry where I had to deal with crap like opening up my student email, re-register for classes, and deal with the early intervention team? Fighting my personal Babadook? Yeah, the same thing happened again. I saw that I had outstanding requirements for my financial aid. I knew it was because of how bad I did in the spring semester. At this point that impending doom was trying to take over. I’m fighting the negativity in me. I’m doing the best I can to neutralize thoughts and feelings before I get dragged down to the dark place that I’ve been trying to get out from. I felt like I was playing mental dodgeball. My mind was racing a million miles a second. Everything in my mind felt it was becoming warped and sounded like gibberish. I wrote things down. I listed out what was going through my mind. I wanted to make sense of it.

As I wrote it all down, I kept feeling this sort of impact. The feeling of letting things out, purging it on paper actually hurt. Then I remembered cognitive behavior therapy. I was able to identify the cognitive distortions. I was able to calm myself down. I was bothered by all of it. So I opted to talk about it in today’s session.

Something that my counselor said is sticking with me. I explained to him everything that happened. I elaborated that impending doom feeling is the same feelingI would get during the spring semester. Feeling like everything was beginning to fall apart, can’t be made better again, and how I felt like dying every time. And then he said something like this…

“The part of your brain that thinks about suicide is like a muscle. Even though you haven’t been using that muscle for a while it’s not usual to feel it act up. Feel like it has power over you. Think of it like a bad habit that’s hard to quit, like smoking. You will have your slips.”

And now that I’ve had time to fully process what he said I realize that the other part of myself, the other me that wants to fight this and make everything better again, that old self that I keep wanting to return to must also be like a muscle as well. The only difference is that it’s been atrophied. It’s out of shape. Even though things are in a positive direction I feel like that ‘mind muscle’ isn’t at full strength. Plus that negative mantra, “I’m not allowed to be happy”, wasn’t doing me favors either. But now that I see things in this way I have a very good idea of what to do next and how to think. Now that I know this I feel like I have the upper hand. And plus this does coincide with a previous revelation, I never lost my power. I never lost my old self. It’s just waiting to be tapped into and be released. Now I’m back in control. I’m ready to do whatever is necessary.

Oh yeah and that financial aid thing. I worked up the nerve after the session. I told my counselor that I’d jump right into it and quipped, “If some creature bursts out from the screen and eats my face off then oh well.” I did it. I have some extra paper work to fill out and give to the office. I’ve already got it printed out. So that ends that nightmare.

Now I need to get back to studying. Wish me luck dearest readers because nothing is going to stand in my way again. So I’m gonna conclude with this…

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Crumbling Walls

It’s been a minute since I’ve updated hasn’t it? I had to lay off for a little while so I could deal with stuff in school and reality. Good news is that things are going well. I just finished taking two exams, back to back. I feel good about them. Although the first exam kinda blindsided me.

This was for communication law. The professor said to be ready for all types of questions, a little bit of multiple choice, short answer, and fill in the blanks. I’ve been going to my classes, I’ve been attentive, I’ve taken good notes, I figured “I got this shit.”

But then it turns out the whole thing was fill in the blank. And of course of all times for my mind to turn blank it happened when I couldn’t remember the names of cases we discussed in class. I was hoping that it would be a little bit of multiple choice or identifying cases with like a word bank or whatever, but no such luck. I don’t think I bombed that exam, but it didn’t go as I would’ve hoped. Next week I’ll be ready for sure. There’s an exam every Thursday for this class. The next exam was on my weaker subject, math. But I was prepared for it. It was the same deal with the law class. Took good notes, paid attention, etc.

I woke up with a plan. I grabbed this little plushie I have of a Pokeball. I’ve been using it as a stress reliever all day long. I even wore a Pokemon Trainer t-shirt to match. My way of celebrating the announcement of Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon. I was the last one to exit the class room. Not because I struggled with the exam, but because I had to double check every damn thing. I want to think that I did good, but I won’t know the results until tomorrow. But there’s a part of me that can’t shake off the good feeling.

I had my appointment with my counselor the other day. Remember my previous entry about how I wallowed in the fact that I’m “not allowed to be happy”? Yeah, we had a ball with that one. Totally called it.

I have a lot more clarity now than I’ve had in a very long time. Partly due to continuous blogging and also to counseling services offered here.

“I’m not allowed to by happy”. I’ve had this mantra stuck with me since before I showed up in Boone. I thought that after I went into counseling here the first time that all my problems would be put behind me. I put behind the malice I was feeling at the time before so it’s not as though counseling was a wasted effort. What I’ve been going through the last few months is something different. I’m still not entirely sure why or what made me so sad and want to die during the spring semester. I’m still trying to find answers. To be perfectly honest I don’t know if I’m going to feel 100% all right until I have an answer to everything.

This messed up mantra I’ve been carrying with me obviously isn’t helping. It’s made me build up a lot of walls to surround myself with. Too many things played a factor in reinforcing those walls. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, so if it seems like I’m on repeat, sorry. Bad habit of mine. But yeah, I’ve got walls. I don’t know how high they go up, but I can feel them surrounding me. Even when I should be happy I can’t help but feel as though my defenses have to be up at all times. I think maybe they’re starting to come down. Maybe not all the way down, but there’s a definite change. Maybe I’m finally giving myself permission to be happy.

I need to do away with that mantra permanently. Is it the root of all my problems? I don’t know yet. Clearly it’s not helping. I’d love to delve deep into things until I have an answer, but the last thing I need at this moment is to have another “analysis paralysis” moment. It’s not as if that ever helped anyway.

I have reasons to be happy. I signed the lease and made the deposit on the house and so has everyone one else. I got the notice from the manager on Monday. Now it feels official. Add that to surviving my first few days of the new semester and braving some exams and I think I’m a little overdue for a victory celebration. I owe myself that much at least. The rest of the stuff I’m going to deal with it. But for now I am too mentally exhausted and drained to even attempt diving into my vast sea of dense thoughts. I’ve got a bottle of wine and some udon noodle soup and my Playstation is calling out to me like a siren’s song. Oh yeah and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna murder my pillow well into the morning because I’ve been waking up too early for the last two weeks. I need to sleep in and enjoy myself.

Until then, later days!

Monsters and Heroes.

So I ended up going straight to bed after last night’s post. I thought about Jewels. I made a post on my Facebook at 11:11 PM that I wish I had her with me. Then I just broke down and cried my eyes out. I waited a while before going to sleep. I swear the worse part of crying is not the tears or the lump you get in your throat, but the snot build up in your nose. Nobody cries pretty. Not even Jennifer Lawrence.

I was able to sleep and then I saw Jewels. She was by my side again, followed me around the house, and asked for belly rubs just like she always had. I woke up and I was hugging one of my pillows. I was stroking it as if she were in bed with me.

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I opted to try to make the most of my Saturday to make up for yesterday. Was I successful? Well if the idea of being successful is to not go into hysterics like yesterday then I guess yeah I succeeded. I didn’t do a whole lot though.It doesn’t help that my activities are so limited when the University’s schedule is so dramatically different during the summer time.

I just went left the Cottages for a few hours and did my usual trek through West King Street, ate at Our Daily Bread, and did some window shopping. But I wasn’t feeling any real elevation in my moods at all.

There was nothing. No sadness, no irritability, no happiness, or anything else. I don’t know if it was calmness or numbness. When I’m not having a meltdown I shut down. I become comfortably numb in the same way I’d imagine a drug addict does when they get their fix. I don’t like having meltdowns, but I also don’t like the feeling of being cut off from everything either. It scares me.

My teacher gave my class this assignment. We were supposed to make a poem using Fibonacci numbers in the same way a haiku is made. You make three lines and make a sentence that has a certain number of syllables. I had written…

5 syllables) I am a writer
8 syllables) People ask me what do I write?
13 syllables) I say “whatever the funny voices tell me to”

8 syllables) Another world lives in my mind
13 syllables) With dragons, monsters, magic, and warriors as well
21 syllables) My characters are my friends, we share all the same struggles, searching for happy endings.

I escaped into my other world for the story that I’m working on. I try my hand at making a world map, but I hate everything I’ve drawn. I haven’t seriously drawn anything since 8th grade art class. Oh but I see the monsters and demons that exist in that world. That’s hardly surprising. I’ve spent a huge part of my life treating my depression, anxiety, and every thing that comes with it as an ongoing battle with monsters. All the times where I felt like I had failed I imagined them as battles lost to those monsters.

I see these creatures wreaking havoc, terrorizing the innocents and feeding off of them. And then I see the heroes of that world doing their best to fend them off. But they are severely outnumbered.

I think it reflects my state of mind. Why so many monsters and not enough heroes? It’s because somewhere along the way I’ve allowed the bad to outweigh the good. And then it made me think about what I brought up in the previous post, about not being allowed to be happy.

I’ve got my work cut out for me. Me cage en diez….

If things in my life can conjure monsters and violent battles then the same thing must be true with heroes and peaceful, happy endings. I don’t want to be addicted to my own misery. I don’t want to swallow anymore bitterness. I don’t want to live in a dark world anymore. So I pick up my pen and I write. My characters draw out their weapons and they fight.