SB16- Bring it.

SPRING BREAK IS HERE!!!

I can do anything I want. I will have no responsibilities, and I will actually be able to enjoy myself.

If I want to sit at home on the couch and binge watch Netflix all day, I can. If I want to go out to Craighead Forest and spend the day reading a book by the lake, I can. If I want to be extremely social and spend the entire week hanging out with friends, I can. If I want to try out some crazy craft project, (and probably fail miserably and make a huge mess) I can!! There is nothing expected of me, and I couldn’t be happier to get a break from school.

This week may be exactly what I need to clear my head, reevaluate my priorities, and just have a ΒℜΣΑΚ.

 

Depression: No filter

When you’re depressed you have some days where you feel like you’ve finally gotten over it, even if it’s just for a brief moment. You feel giddy, you can’t stop smiling, and you feel like nothing can bring you down.

Today is not one of those days.

Today it feels impossible to force a smile, it feels impossible to stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks, it feels like time is passing by extremely slow and it is all I can do to wait until it’s bedtime so I can fall asleep and catch a break from my thoughts for even just a little while. Today it feels like I am more lost than ever and more purposeless than ever. Today it feels like I’m never going to be able to break free from anxiety and depression, and today it just sucks.

And do you wanna know the worst part?

The worst part about having anxiety and depression is not having to deal with the daily pain and the constant hopelessness, even though that definitely is a close second. The worst part about having anxiety and depression is that I am myself. And I am a fighter. Now you may be confused right about this point, because that word connotes strength.

Let me explain.

When you have inner strength and you have anxiety and depression, your mind is at constant conflict. You want to give up, but you refuse to give up. You want to cry, but you refuse to cry. You want to lay in bed all day and forget the world, but you refuse to waste your life away. You want to be sad, but you refuse to be. So you try your best to be happy and be the person that you are meant to be, and you may even believe that you can beat your anxiety and depression, but every time you crash that false hope is what makes the fall all the more painful.

Sometimes you even meet someone that makes you feel the way you feel when you have those days that trick you into thinking you’ve gotten over all those problems.

But they never stay.

Put Your Faith in My Stomach

Things have been…weird lately, for lack of a better word. And it’s one of those “weirds” where you can’t tell if it is about to be gut-wrenchingly awful or one the greatest things. Or who knows, maybe even somewhere in between.

I’m all about control. It’s part of my nature, and lately I’ve been trying to suppress that aspect of myself and just enjoy life and what it has to offer. I’ve not been worried about what will come next; I haven’t been stressing over all the little details.

Have you ever had a gut feeling about something? Something you just can’t explain? I have one of those, and I can’t decide if I am absolutely out of my mind or not. I can’t even put it into words, because it makes no sense to me. And also because being able to put it into words might even demolish the beauty of just going with my gut. It’s kind of hilarious, actually, what it reminds me of. There’s this Ed Sheeran song called “I’m a Mess,” and it has this one line that sends me into little fits of giggling. He says, “Put your faith in my stomach.” It cracks me up so much, if only at first because I did not understand what in the world he was talking about when he was telling someone to trust in his stomach. Like, okay Ed? Do you have a really good taste in food or something? What’s going on here? But my sister explained it to me awhile ago, and she said that it meant that he wanted whoever he wrote the song about to trust in his gut instinct, because that is exactly what he was doing. Once she told me that, it made perfect sense. But, I’ve never been able to relate, because I’m not one of those people that “goes with the wind” and “trusts their gut.” In fact, I don’t believe I’ve ever had a gut feeling before. I’ve always evaluated every little decision and fretted over it and analyzed it until it wasn’t even fun anymore. It takes the life out of things- analyzation.

So maybe it’s saying something about my anxiety that I’m finally taking a risk, and I’m finally trusting in my gut. Honestly? I don’t care if it blows up in my face. Okay, no, I care a lot, actually. But I’m just proud that I’m not overthinking everything for once, and it gives me a sense of hope and freedom that I lost a long time ago. It makes me think that it may be possible for me to get over my anxiety, not completely…obviously. But, maybe to the point to where it doesn’t plague my mind every second of every day. I genuinely hope I can get there soon.

Ironically enough, however, even as I’m typing this I can feel that little bit of anxiety crawling back in and trying to grab hold of me. It sickens me. When my brother went through his eating disorder, it pained me every day to see him struggle and not be able to overcome it. Once he finally got over it, I imagined he would be perfectly back to normal- no trace of his problems left. But, it left a mark. And that scares me. Because of what he went through, he will never be the same person he was. I talk like I’m cynical, but deep down I am such an idealist. I want to believe that instead of just getting to the point where my anxiety doesn’t bother me 24/7 that I can get to the point where I’m back to myself completely. And maybe if I try hard enough, believe in myself, and fight like hell, then I can get there.

So here’s to hoping.

Free Falling

I feel so…alive.

This vacation has allowed me to take a step back and explore how I am without all of the pressures of life pushing at me. I’m really lazy. But, that’s not the point.

I’ve gotten to do some unbelievable things. For example, skydiving. It’s been on my bucket list, and honestly I never quite thought I would get to scratch it off. But, lo and behold, I went skydiving with my grandma in Eloy, Arizona.

We are staying in Casa Grande, and so we woke up and drove to Eloy last Saturday morning. We signed away all our rights, which terrified Nana, and we discovered that there had been a death there two days prior to our little excursion. That terrified Nana even more. But, surprisingly, she didn’t back out, and there was no way that I was going to anyway.

We suited up, walked out, and boarded the small plane. I thought that I would be nervous and desire to back out, but never once did I ever question what I was about to do.

We went tandem skydiving, which basically means that I was harnessed to an experienced skydiver. At 13,000 feet above the ground, we jumped. The air hit me in the face and knocked me breathless. We were in free-fall. I tried to breathe, but it was tantalizing. So I just stopped trying and focused on everything around me. I was in pure bliss. I felt so…alive. The adrenaline was pumping through me, and everything looked so minuscule below. Even though I was unable to breathe, I wasn’t concerned. I never wanted the free-fall to stop. But, too soon, my tandem instructor opened the parachute. I felt a sudden jerk, and our fall slowed its pace enormously. I could breathe again. This experience was different from the free-fall, but just as astounding. During the free-fall I had been horizontal, but now I was upright.  I felt as if I were floating, or perhaps walking on air. The world below my feet acting as my floor, even.

The landing was rough. I landed hard on my butt, and looked oh so graceful while doing it. I’ve got a video if you don’t believe me. My Nana says that she enjoyed it, but that it was definitely a one-time experience. I felt oppositely. I would do it over and over and over again until I died. The adrenaline. The view. The beauty. The danger of it all. I fell in love with skydiving, that’s for sure.

I refuse to describe in detail everything we have done on this magnificent trip, but I also refuse to simply list the activities; they deserve much more than that. So, I’m going to keep them to myself, a secret treasure to hold onto. I will let you in on something that happened today though, just because of the way it affected me. To start, it was a beautiful day outside. No, the sun was not out, but that didn’t matter. The weather felt heavenly. Nana and I were out riding our bikes, and suddenly it started raining. Nana was not happy, but I was. I love rain. Now, I know the science of it all, but there’s always been something  magical about it to me. The way it falls in tiny droplets, how it feels when it gently strokes your face, how it tastes when it hits your tongue, how it drips from your eyelashes, how its smell mixes with the smell of the air and you feel intoxicated from the aroma that I can only think to describe as pureness. So, we’re heading back to the RV, and it’s all I can do not to get off my bike and lay on the ground. I want to feel the hot concrete on my back as the chilling rain pools around me. But, Nana would kill me, so on I go. It’s still idyllic. It made me feel, again, so… alive. No matter what else happens today, that will be the best part. It reminded me of that song by Natasha Bedingfield: Unwritten. I won’t waste time including the lyrics. If you know it, you know it. If you don’t, well then hopefully you’re curious enough to google it. But just the reminder of that song while in this situation made me giggle. I thought of God. It felt like He was telling me to put all my mistakes behind me and just start living my life again. I can’t change the past, and I will never be able to not make mistakes. It might not have even been Him; it may have just been a coincidence. But, I hope it was Him. I hope that He cared enough to set me up in that situation so that I would finally feel forgiven by Him and to finally forgive myself. I hope He cared enough to purposefully send me the renewed sense of purpose, joy, and maybe even a sense of understanding. Understanding how He feels about me and how He can possibly love me when I’m so pathetically incorrigible.

I will end this post as I began it, because I do. I feel so…alive. 

And it excites me.

The Cycle

She’s a romantic
Viewing the world through naive eyes
She is only deluding herself
Perfection can never be reached
She waits patiently
For her heart to accept what her mind already knows
She’s only capable of seeing black and white
Therefore soon falling into cynicism
But she is too pure to stay there
She claims to have a desire to understand the grey
But what her heart truly aches for is the perfection
So she slowly returns to her abusive relationship with idealism
And therefore the cycle never ends
It is only a matter of time before she is hurt again
Her expectations shattered into thousands of pieces
Then she will again be waiting patiently
For her heart to accept what her mind already knows
Idealist to cynic to idealist
Round and round she goes
It’s always the same

As Ready As I’ll Ever Be

When someone is asked are you ready and they retort back “as ready as I’ll ever be,” I’ve never understood why they said it. I’ve always thought, “Okay. You are either ready or you’re not.” But college has made me rethink this, and I’ve come to appreciate this common retort more than I thought I would. I move into my dorm room in less than three days, and I’m terrified. But, I’m also excited about having my whole future in front of me. I wouldn’t say I’m ready to jump in with both feet, but I wouldn’t say I’m not ready to transition into this new stage of life. Therefore, I’d say I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. The nerves won’t go away until I begin college, but I’ve done everything I can do to prepare myself, and I can relax in that truth.