Haha oh man, I totally wrote out this great blog and WHOOPS forgot I can't post to blogspot using Chrome (yeah, go figure). So that didn't get saved. Boy do I feel stupid.
What a fitting twist though with how . I guess this isn't really a full disclosure blog (as I'm trying to do here normally) but more of a pseudo-associative exercise in working out some thoughts. Just roll with me here.
In a nutshell, 2011 was a horrible, ridiculous, stupid year (yes, I recognize blaming a calender year as bad luck is silly, but it just seemed so perfectly planned against me). I faced my own mortality, let go of some important people, and wrestled with new facets of my depression while fritzing around with new medications (Super serious aside you guys, suicidal thoughts are nasty business - it's like a really persuasive voice in your head and you just keep seeing it or thinking about it over and over again so...ya know...if you have a friend that seems a bit down you should probably talk to them about it. It helps to get that nonsense out.). I was also a really grumpy bitch to people for absolutely no reason and I'm not proud of that and oh my god the crying. I dealt with some deep-seeded issues with bullying and felt the frustration of not being able to comfort family and friends during a tragedy. I learned the let down of a goal half a decade in the making first hand, and I realized that maybe the place I had been trying to make my home isn't where I belonged at all. I came to the horrifying realization that somewhere in the last year I lost the capacity to dream - to reach out for future goals and ambitions. Where did all my ambition go? Have I accomplished everything I'm going to? Is this a product of some mental disturbance or do I need to just suck it up and grow a backbone? I mean, I get it how whiny this post sounds. I hate incessent whining and I hate being a hypocrite but dammit this does not feel normal. Did all of this happen after the wreck, or was it slowly creeping beforehand? I don't even remember.
I was really hurt in ways I hadn't thought possible by two people I had loved and trusted, even if we weren't the best at keeping in contact. In reading a message today in which I was told I was no longer considered a friend for reasons that really don't even make sense to me, I felt sad. I boohoo'd and wondered the how-could-theys and what's-going-ons and the usual thought process in hearing that a long time best friend wanted nothing to do with you. I wanted to feel really bitter, and I still do a bit. But what good will that do? Maybe people don't want to associate with me for a reason (see super bitch grumpus). Where is the after-school learning experience in just throwing a pity party? How would thinking that people are only out there to hurt you solve anything? Is that what I'm going to believe, that people are just a bunch of selfish assholes?
Nope. Steeled my resolve to be obnoxiously optimistic yet annoyingly cynical in all the right ways instead.
In all fairness, 2011, the year of the Rabbit (it was supposed to be my year) wasn't ALL bad. Yeah I gained weight and relapses and all that personal nonsense but there was some amazing stuff too. I spent a week camping in one of the most beautiful, unique places on earth. I spent another week with family in a place that someday I might call home, even for a year or two. I graduated (finally), and that's pretty awesome. Also, ya know, Skyrim. My family and friends are, for the most part, happy and healthy and living out their own dreams. I have a roof over my head and clothes to wear and food to eat. I will probably never, ever suffer the way many people in this world will, and I recognize that. But man this year sucked (full disclosure: this post does not give full disclosure on wtf went on this year). Hell, I can even rationalize that all of the trials and tribulations over the year, caused by my own shortcomings or otherwise, was all a crash course in rectifying my emotional growth. Dude, becoming so sure that the world is out to get you - man, that is not cool. But letting a bad run of events get you down - not only is that not cool, but kinda lame. I'm lame.
So here's to 2012 and the rest of my life. Time to peace out 2011 and make all those resolutions: get more sleep, eat better, meditate more, grow a backbone and take more risks. Most importantly, keep believing that things will work out even if it means just believing that someday I'll actually believe it (does that even make sense?). And here's the thing - why wait for a few days for midnight? Why tell myself that I'll start tomorrow? Nothing is stopping me from starting right this very second, and I'm ashamed to say nothing was stopping me in April, or in June, or November, or earlier today. I'm starting right now to undo all the damage this year has caused. Starting right. this. minute.
Ah, ah see what I did there? It started all like "oh bitchy bitch whine fest" and then ended up resolving to be awesome. But no, seriously. LET'S DO THIS!
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Let's rap about serious issues: Bullying and the aftermath
Read the title as if you're a middle aged adult in kid clothing or a cartoon character from the 1980s and just follow me on this. Rarely do I find heavy things worth writing about - usually I tend to keep my thoughts to myself and share them only with my private journal.
However, a video circulating my newsfeed on Facebook has really gotten me thinking about times that I don't really think about - or necessarily remember that well - but still affect me deeply to this day. Given recent events that have taken place at home, dialogue has opened up with my parents and a few friends on my own issues with bulling during my teenage years.
Watch this:
I don't have the answers for why kids seem to be getting worse these days, why children are affected so deeply as to take their own lives. All I know is what I, myself went through. I've never really talked about it that much before (other than mentioning that it happened) because I've put most of it behind me.
Once the whole trichotillomania thing kicked in, I spent a good portion of Jr. High and High School as the unpopular girl, the outcast. Everyone in school was insecure about themselves and I became a prime target to vent those insecurities on. Now, I never cut myself. My low pain tolerance and my ever persistant optimistic attitude of "when I get outta here..." kept me from going that route. I did, however, believe that the things everyone said about me was true - because they were. I didn't know how to control my trichotillomania in school, and I refused to wear a wig. I was aware that what I did was weird and unsettling. And I knew I couldn't "just stop". So I believed that I was a freak, that it was perfectly okay for people not to associate with me, that I just plain didn't deserve to feel pretty or happy. I settled into thinking that it was the norm that I would face it every single day. How ugly I felt when I relapsed, and how I just KNEW everyone noticed....because many kids made a point of telling me so. I felt judged every moment of the day and felt that, like Jonah, everyone hated me. It's an indescribable knot that sits in your stomach, a vortex of dread that surrounds you, that feeling.
The funny thing about bullying is that, in my experience, it wasn't just one or two stereotypical bullies who made a habit of focusing on me. It came from every one of my peers, everywhere. It came from stares and whispers behind my back, the mimicry of pulling when people thought I wasn't looking, from the blunt "hurr hurr how about getting some Rogaine", to the sarcastic "she looks SO pretty today" if I attempted to wear something nice. During my transition from a little girl to a young lady I was trained to believe I didn't deserve to be feminine, or to look feminine. I felt the abandonment of my childhood friends distancing themselves from me...and I didn't blame them one bit.
The weird thing is that many of the kids who said and did these things were nice kids. In fact, I'm friends with several of them on facebook and I know how horrified they would be if they remembered. Hell, I probably wasn't so nice to other kids in school myself at some point. My parents could have talked to their parents, but I was reluctant to name names. No one face stands out, and I just felt like it was me vs. everyone anyway. Even then, I learned to keep things to myself. I had gone from an extroverted, loud child who would talk to anyone about anything to the girl who would rather be invisible than noticed...because being noticed was usually a bad thing.
On the other hand, I should point out, things did get better in high school. I had a close group of friends and some good memories. It just wasn't what it was all cracked up to be. Everyone is supposed to be awkward in high school, but I felt like I was the only one.
And the school? I honestly don't think the school could have done anything more than they did. This was also a time, just over a decade ago, where bullying didn't have the limelight it has now. They were aware, and my teachers were the most supportive people I had in school. They still saw my potential and encouraged me to do my best - I could talk to them without fear of being judged. I had a teacher, one who was particuarly known for being stodgy and downright "mean", who pullled me aside my sophomore year and told me I could come to her for anything.
My parents were the greatest support. They sat with me through therapy, witnessed my tears and frustrations at home, and encouraged me that things will get better if I just persist, if I try. I learned never to give up, no matter how desperately I wanted to, simply because quitting was not an option. My mother and father were nothing but supportive and I know how heavily my mental state weighed on their minds. I regret that I made them worry so much on my account. My parents understand all too well what it is like to watch their child get their will broken by bullying on a daily basis, and they were there to pick me up and dust me off. I have become the person I am today because of them.
It's funny how much of a fog, a mental fuzziness, all of this confusion I was in, how it had an impact on my everyday life. I knew never to give up, but I didn't try my hardest. I wasn't eating, then wonder why I was always exhausted even before basketball practice, for example. High school is a confusing time anyway, and trying to sort it all out just made me even crazier. I couldn't focus my thoughts into one place and somehow, subconciously, I became the person everyone painted me as. I stopped caring about a lot of things - my appearance, my interactions, my awareness for how socially awkward I was. It's only been recently that I've started to care again. Going from a little girl to a 24 year old, I have to say those things I missed out on in my teen years are causing for a sharp learning curve now. I'm wearing dresses again, and I think I've finally figured out the basics of make-up. I don't think I'll ever see myself as attractive, or a person people want to be around, but maybe my confidence will grow as I continue to grow up.
The point of this blog, I guess, with the video is that I remember how that kid felt. The loneliness and isolation while feeling like the biggest loser in the world simply because everyone else says so is something I will not ever forget. I felt like everyone hated me simply for existing and being different, and maybe they did. I also know that, with time, they grew up and I grew up. Life does get better, but only if you strive to make it better. Oddly enough, this past year is the first time I've ever dealt with real, vivid suicidal thoughts but I know no matter how intense they get, how easy it seems, I too have a million reasons to be here. It's not time to give up, no matter how burnt out or lost I feel.
In the end all of that stupid bullshit that was said really doesn't mean that much to me. It's how I felt, or how I let it make me feel, or how I percieved my own weirdness and let it define me, that will stick with me. At the end of the day, maybe that's one thing that will make me who I am and I have the choice to make it as positive as I can.
In the words of Conan O'Brien, "Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen." So I was never the popular girl, and maybe I'm a bit socially stunted, but I've found that I've also had a pretty kick-ass life so far. And best of all, there's still plenty more to come.
However, a video circulating my newsfeed on Facebook has really gotten me thinking about times that I don't really think about - or necessarily remember that well - but still affect me deeply to this day. Given recent events that have taken place at home, dialogue has opened up with my parents and a few friends on my own issues with bulling during my teenage years.
Watch this:
I don't have the answers for why kids seem to be getting worse these days, why children are affected so deeply as to take their own lives. All I know is what I, myself went through. I've never really talked about it that much before (other than mentioning that it happened) because I've put most of it behind me.
Once the whole trichotillomania thing kicked in, I spent a good portion of Jr. High and High School as the unpopular girl, the outcast. Everyone in school was insecure about themselves and I became a prime target to vent those insecurities on. Now, I never cut myself. My low pain tolerance and my ever persistant optimistic attitude of "when I get outta here..." kept me from going that route. I did, however, believe that the things everyone said about me was true - because they were. I didn't know how to control my trichotillomania in school, and I refused to wear a wig. I was aware that what I did was weird and unsettling. And I knew I couldn't "just stop". So I believed that I was a freak, that it was perfectly okay for people not to associate with me, that I just plain didn't deserve to feel pretty or happy. I settled into thinking that it was the norm that I would face it every single day. How ugly I felt when I relapsed, and how I just KNEW everyone noticed....because many kids made a point of telling me so. I felt judged every moment of the day and felt that, like Jonah, everyone hated me. It's an indescribable knot that sits in your stomach, a vortex of dread that surrounds you, that feeling.
The funny thing about bullying is that, in my experience, it wasn't just one or two stereotypical bullies who made a habit of focusing on me. It came from every one of my peers, everywhere. It came from stares and whispers behind my back, the mimicry of pulling when people thought I wasn't looking, from the blunt "hurr hurr how about getting some Rogaine", to the sarcastic "she looks SO pretty today" if I attempted to wear something nice. During my transition from a little girl to a young lady I was trained to believe I didn't deserve to be feminine, or to look feminine. I felt the abandonment of my childhood friends distancing themselves from me...and I didn't blame them one bit.
The weird thing is that many of the kids who said and did these things were nice kids. In fact, I'm friends with several of them on facebook and I know how horrified they would be if they remembered. Hell, I probably wasn't so nice to other kids in school myself at some point. My parents could have talked to their parents, but I was reluctant to name names. No one face stands out, and I just felt like it was me vs. everyone anyway. Even then, I learned to keep things to myself. I had gone from an extroverted, loud child who would talk to anyone about anything to the girl who would rather be invisible than noticed...because being noticed was usually a bad thing.
On the other hand, I should point out, things did get better in high school. I had a close group of friends and some good memories. It just wasn't what it was all cracked up to be. Everyone is supposed to be awkward in high school, but I felt like I was the only one.
And the school? I honestly don't think the school could have done anything more than they did. This was also a time, just over a decade ago, where bullying didn't have the limelight it has now. They were aware, and my teachers were the most supportive people I had in school. They still saw my potential and encouraged me to do my best - I could talk to them without fear of being judged. I had a teacher, one who was particuarly known for being stodgy and downright "mean", who pullled me aside my sophomore year and told me I could come to her for anything.
My parents were the greatest support. They sat with me through therapy, witnessed my tears and frustrations at home, and encouraged me that things will get better if I just persist, if I try. I learned never to give up, no matter how desperately I wanted to, simply because quitting was not an option. My mother and father were nothing but supportive and I know how heavily my mental state weighed on their minds. I regret that I made them worry so much on my account. My parents understand all too well what it is like to watch their child get their will broken by bullying on a daily basis, and they were there to pick me up and dust me off. I have become the person I am today because of them.
It's funny how much of a fog, a mental fuzziness, all of this confusion I was in, how it had an impact on my everyday life. I knew never to give up, but I didn't try my hardest. I wasn't eating, then wonder why I was always exhausted even before basketball practice, for example. High school is a confusing time anyway, and trying to sort it all out just made me even crazier. I couldn't focus my thoughts into one place and somehow, subconciously, I became the person everyone painted me as. I stopped caring about a lot of things - my appearance, my interactions, my awareness for how socially awkward I was. It's only been recently that I've started to care again. Going from a little girl to a 24 year old, I have to say those things I missed out on in my teen years are causing for a sharp learning curve now. I'm wearing dresses again, and I think I've finally figured out the basics of make-up. I don't think I'll ever see myself as attractive, or a person people want to be around, but maybe my confidence will grow as I continue to grow up.
The point of this blog, I guess, with the video is that I remember how that kid felt. The loneliness and isolation while feeling like the biggest loser in the world simply because everyone else says so is something I will not ever forget. I felt like everyone hated me simply for existing and being different, and maybe they did. I also know that, with time, they grew up and I grew up. Life does get better, but only if you strive to make it better. Oddly enough, this past year is the first time I've ever dealt with real, vivid suicidal thoughts but I know no matter how intense they get, how easy it seems, I too have a million reasons to be here. It's not time to give up, no matter how burnt out or lost I feel.
In the end all of that stupid bullshit that was said really doesn't mean that much to me. It's how I felt, or how I let it make me feel, or how I percieved my own weirdness and let it define me, that will stick with me. At the end of the day, maybe that's one thing that will make me who I am and I have the choice to make it as positive as I can.
In the words of Conan O'Brien, "Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen." So I was never the popular girl, and maybe I'm a bit socially stunted, but I've found that I've also had a pretty kick-ass life so far. And best of all, there's still plenty more to come.
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