FML--It's Twilight

So I realized something unsettling today. I am Bella.

Yes, you read that correctly. Bella. As in Bella Swan, worst emo ever created since Jane Eyre.

How could such a thing happen? you might ask. How does one come upon a realization such as this. Well, I'll tell you, it was an unpleasant thing to find staring me in the face.

I was sitting with The Boy, my head leaning on his shoulder, being all silly and clingy and nuzzling-like, and thinking about my stomach. You see, I woke up this morning to the loudness caused by my parents (apparently our dog took off and they were screaming for him, chasing him down the road.....fun times) and instnatly, my brain, which had apparently been dealing with unpleasant dreams was then full of freaking out about schoolwork. I was curled up in bed, fighting the womanly time and a sudden panic attack. Which, you know, was just lovely.

So I was still feeling out my innards, because they're rather testy and thinking about how much my stomach was acting up becuase of my stress. And I nuzzled further and realized that I was not coming home again until most likely, winter break. Which is only three weeks away (!!!!!!!) but still.......

So my stomach twisted some more. Because I'm away at school, which has been harder this semester since I've become a nutcase. And because I really am depending on The Boy a hell of a lot. Which I know is not exactly healthy. But.....I just feel better when I'm with him. I mean, I can still panic.....but for the most part, I feel better when I'm sitting with him and being silly.

And the more I thought about it........the panic attacks, the freaking out, the blagh feeling, the down-ness, the disconnection, the only-feeling-ok-when-with-him.............I realized that I......had become something I did not like.

I am Bella. I freak out when I'm not with my boy, at varying degrees, depending. I have freak outs and feel better with him. Only....The Boy's not an Edward. He's more Jacob if anything....but he's not that either. Agh.

This is horrible. I'm a clingy emo with no feelings. Which is an oxymoron. I think.

*bangs head on desk*

I Want a Moment to Be Real; Wanna Touch Things I Don't Feel

I've been wondering if whether or not I am human anymore. Or at least, that was something I was wondering about last week. I'm feeling more normal now, which is a good thing.

But last week, I was a mess. Did anyone see it? Hopefully not. I like to think I'm good at hiding it (usually). Internally, I was having a minor freak out session. Mainly from wondering whether I was suffering from depression on top of everything else.....or whether I was simply drifting off into the territory of those crazy less-than-humans, that bunch of slightly off people that make dogs growl and children scatter. The type that usually snaps and starts killing people in cold blood.

That's always been a fear, personally. You know, that I'm insane. Because I talk to myself. Because I can think up ways of people dying. Then again, I've got a pretty vivid imagination..........and Agatha Christie used to do the same thing. Stare at some old plot where her archaeologist husband was digging and be entirely focused on how one could be murdered with a piece of broken pot or a pickaxe. Something along those lines.

So, I'm probably not insane. Just a writer.

But that old fear cropped up again with this whole lack-of-human-emotion thing. I was feeling anger, annoyance, fear.......but not the positive emotions. It was like I was behind a wall of some kind.....like I was disconnected. Like I was on drugs.....which doesn't make sense because I'm totally not, prescription or otherwise.

I was a muddled mess of crap.....and had been for like....two weeks. Until Thursday.

I was up at the mansion for our club officer's meeting. I was early. So I sat down and waited for the others. I happened to be waiting by the wall that's full of all kinds of pamphlets. Relationship abuse, safe sex, the hiv, make sure to clean your vagina....you know the kind.

Then...in between some sex thing and Depression was a pamphlet on Anxiety. Curious, I picked it up. Hey, I was bored.....and besides, maybe it had more to offer than "Well there are pills..." or "Take a deep breath" or "Talk to a professional."

There was the usual......and then, in one section it read: Is it a panic attack? and advised that if you've had 4 or more symptoms to see your physician. So I looked over the list and found that I had, between the time of beginning to flip out over sickness to the present, in fact suffered from 10 of the 13 symptoms.

Wonderful. So....I really do have a problem.

Thankfully, I realized also that I'm not insane. Well, that's a bad way of putting it. I'm the good insane. But I'm not the unfeeling-robot-who-will-totally-flip-someday-and-become-a-serial-killer.

That problem, "Feeling that you're watching yourself from far away, or that everything is either too vivid or not vivid enough" is a symptom of anxiety. Or just a panic attack.

So that's what it all comes back to. Anxiety. And the fact that my mind is trying to destroy me.

Loverly.

And it also says that genetics are part of the cause. And my mother and both grandmothers are worryworts. Gramma even gave herself a STROKE from worrying about Grampa being in a rehabilitation center after breaking his hip really bad.

So you know....this bodes well for me in the long run lol.

But......I am writing on here. I'm talking about it. Hell....I'm joking about it now. I told The Boy he was dating a psycho......and teased my mom about having a daughter who has as many issues as her allergy-ridden dog.

I mean, what else can I do? Sit here and think, good lord, I should just quit school? Because that thought has crossed my mind alot. Quit school, get rid of that stress level.....because the only thing making me go back is my friends.

But if I did quit...then I would be running away. I would be trying to hide back behind my parents, like some little kid on the first day of Kindergarten. I can't run away.....I can't hide myself. I hid myself all summer long, I was a hermit for most of the time and look where it got me: freaking out over little things, zero motivation to do anything academic, gaining a mental problem. It's ridiculous. I never should have done that to myself. But I was running then.

I keep running from responsibility even as I'm asking for people to pile it on. Yeah, I can be an officer, yeah I can do that for you, yeah I can remember that date, yeah sure......I can handle two 400 level courses next spring........

The thing is....I want to run away but some stubborn part of me (the adult part I suppose) is stopping me in my tracks. That half is grabbing the other by it's collar and going "Where the hell d'ya think you're going?" Which you know.....is a positive thing. Because....I'm still here. I'm still doing this......even though I should be doing something productive right now and not typing this blog.....but this is for my mental health so...what the fuck ever.

So, I'll take little moments to enjoy campus (how about that beautiful yet freakish weather today, huh?). I'll take pictures, which is both productive and relaxing. I'll write for a bit about whatever. I'll get hugs amd give them. I'll sit somewhere else to do work or take a water break. Maybe I'll even take a little mental vaykay.......

All those things that they suggest on this sheet of stress relievers my mom gave me. Because I started something and I'm damn well going to finish it. And my brain, my silly little brain, is not going to get in the way of that.

I shall prevail. Hopefully.


I'm Still Here--Goo Goo Dolls

I am a question to the world

Not an answer to be heard

Or a moment that's held in your arms

And what do you think you'd ever say

I won't listen anyway

You don't know me

And I'll never be what you want

Me to be

And what

Do you think you'd understand

I'm boy, no, I'm a man

You can't take me

And throw me away

And how

Can you learn what's never shown

Yeah, you stand here on your own

They don't know me

'Cause I'm not here

[Chorus]

And I want a moment to be real

Want to touch things I don't feel

Wanna hold on and feel I belong

And how can the world want me to change

They're the ones that stay the same

They don't know me

'Cause I'm not here

And you see the things they never see

All you wanted - I could be

Now you know me

And I'm not afraid

And I want to tell you who I am

Can you help me be a man

They can't break me

As long as I know who I am

[Chorus]

And how can the world want me to change

They're the ones that stay the same

They can't see me

But I'm still here

They can't tell me who to be

'Cause I'm not what they see

Yeah, the world is still sleepin' while I keep on dreaming for me

And their words are just whispers and lies that I'll never believe

[Chorus]

And how can you say I'll never change

They're the ones that stay the same

I'm the one now

'Cause I'm still here

I'm the one

'Cause I'm still here

I'm still here

I'm still here

I'm still here.....

Tales of a Loony

So I suppose I should actually write things down. You know there's a problem when a writer doesn't want to express herself. I guess it's because I keep things bottled up inside. I don't share them, I don't go into them and even when I do, I might leave something out or I feel I'm complaining too much.

I guess it was easier with MDD when it was still in existance. At least then I wasn't have full blown anxiety.

Where to start........

Well, I guess I should begin at the start of this semester. I am taking hard classes. I knew that from the start. I knew that when Scott told me "this is a pretty high reading load" and I was like yeah yeah I can totally do it. Hello......I'm the kid who shocked her Kindergarten teacher because she knew how to read before she even got to school. I'm the kid who used to read during class and who dug into a few adult books at a relatively young age. I've been known to read 4 to 5 books at the same time. I could handle reading a few chapters every night. I could handle large research papers, projects and pieces of writing every few days. I could totally take an 8:30 AM class with no trouble....it's only two days a week.

Yeah, stupid me.

Apparently, the pressure has gotten to me and I didn't even realize it. I mean yeah.......I got sick. But why did I get sick?

Because I'm on the go. Becuase I don't get enough sleep, I don't eat well (and who really can at SVC?), and our school is a petri dish. I got sick and I ignored it. A normal cold turned into a small sinus infection and I ended up convincing myself that I was going to die.

My own brain, my own overactive imagination, became a torture device that I set on myself.

I was convinced I had a brain tumor. That I had cancer. That my heart would give out. That I would stop breathing in my sleep. That my heart would stop beating in my sleep. That I would faint in class or on the way to the bus. That I had mucus in my lungs and was going to get pneumonia or something like that.

Essentially, I convinced myself that something was seriously wrong with me. I convinced myself that I was probably going to die. And I got freaked out. Because there's a lot of things I want to do. I want to enjoy the rest of college. I want to keep having movie nights with the girls. I want to watch Host Club until 6 in the morning with everybody. I want to joke around with everyone. I want to go skulking with Doodle and finally tell what few teachers in high school I liked, exactly how much positive influence they had on me. I want to finally fix my public speaking issue and do more improv. I want to enjoy the seasons and the weather. I want to have more crazy mock fights. I want to keep having random conversations about nothing. I want to keep making my boy laugh. I want to graduate. I want to be published. I want to help kids, I want to get married. I want to havea family. I want to travel and do great things. I want to have epic road trips. I want to grow old with my boy.

So I was freaking out because I thought I wasn't going to be able to do these things. So I thought, what's the point of doing this homework? What's the point in going to this early morning class? Why is everything I'm reading for class suddenly as morbid as I feel?

And every night, it took me an hour to go to sleep becuase I had to calm myself down and re-convince myself that I was going to wake up in the morning. And this went on for an entire week.

Now, I've been to the doctors. There's nothing wrong with me. She listened to my heart and lungs. Nothing odd. She listened to and felt around my abdomen. Nothing out of place. She did a throat culture because my throat was kinda red and still, it came back negative. I got blood work done and no mono, no diseases, nothing wrong. I'm not even anemic.

I'm normal. Though my dad did point out that I'm not really normal.......I mean, I'm his daughter right?

Still, nothing is wrong with me.

And I feel a little better. But still, I have a bit of freaking out still about me. Last night it took me an hour and a half to get to sleep because I thought my heart was doing funky things. Even now I'm wondering if it is or if I'm breathing weird.

But it's apparently all in my head.

The doctor asked me which grade I'm in. She was rather surprised to find that I'm a junior in college. "Most of the time, anxiety shows up among Freshmen."

Yeah, well, my dad always said I'd probably be a late bloomer like him.

She suggested anxiety meds. She suggested talking to someone. My mother laughed when she said the Center.

"That's where I work actually."

I'm not one for medication. Counseling types make me nervous. So I really don't know what to do.

I'm still at home because I think I need it. I need a break from everything. I need a mini vacation, a chance to rest, be mothered and try to regain some sense of I can do it. Becuase apparently, it just got to be too much.

I'm so worried about staying on top of my grades, of getting on Provost's List again because I let my parents down too much in the past. I'm so freaked out about that.....about getting work done even when I can't concentrate and I procrastinate and make things harder for myself.........

I just make myself worse.

So here I am writing it down. Because maybe that was my problem. Yeah I talked a little bit about it to friends, to The Boy, to my parents. But not all of it and not all the time.

Maybe I just need to write it down. The writer must write.....right?

Jocks Vs. Nerds: The Adventures Continue

In high school, there were the set cliques. The jocks/preps, the stoners, the wangstas, the farm kids, the nerds....who were music, theatre, arts, and writing mixed together with some of the extremely intelligent bunch too. (I guess the farms kids are what made our school kinda different than the stereotypical high school). But there were these groups and sometimes they'd mingle. Some would stay stuck up and not have anything to do with the others if they could help it.

You know the typical high school routine. It's like a law to be a clique-y ass for four to six years.

This apparently continues into college. I was sincerely hoping it would not but within my first two weeks on campus I learned that this crap just go on and on. Drama: the gift that keeps on giving.

By this time, I'm used to it and I have resigned myself to the fact that, like the title of my blog states, high school really doesn't end. In fact, looking at adult behavior recently, I'm of the mind that it never will. That kinda majorly sucks.

Anyways, I had forgotten how much the athletic department thinks they're better than everyone else on campus until this past weekend and today.

Being disrespected by an adult (as in, someone over the age of 23 with a responsible position) because your club is made up of non-athletes is a little ridiculous. And also quite juvenile.

It can also be a little ironic when you realize that those in college are even more immature than those you dealt with in high school. It's like you're moving backwards even as you are trying to go forward.

Basically, the drama club wanted to use the Field House for the drama club's haunted house (note: the field house is a abuilding open to the campus at large). My friend and club president was told to e-mail the assistant athletic director about the usage of the building. She was polite and gave all info. He did not resond for a week. A literal week.

When he finally did e-mail back, it was only after one of our guy friends (who's an athlete....sort of) went to talk with him. the athletic director sent a very curt message, telling us we could only do this after the girl's basketball team practice which was after they got back from some walk in town.....so sometime in the evening.

Then he waited until early this morning to e-mail our president again, this time informing her that he had reread her e-mail and said that we couldn't do anything at all. "I am afraid this would be impossible."

Basically, we'd have to tear down, clean the floor and set back up for the next day because they had their basketball and volleyball teams having practice in there. He also didn't specify which day.

Our amazing professor (who's head of the club)e-mailed him and basically went all mother bear on his ass. He had been disrespecting one of her students and she was NOT happy about that.

He e-mailed her back (within 5 minutes...what a change from a week huh?) in a slightly more respectful tone and continued to inform her that this was not going to work.

We have accepted defeat. We move to plan B....whatever the hell that is.

However, a friend told us that the practices could just as easily be held in the rec center instead....if they truly wanted to cooperate. She also gave the idea of writing an editorial to the school newspaper.....something along the lines of how it it hard to get cooperation from the athletic department when concerning other clubs and activities on campus. Which is strange, considering that the activity squad is getting to do the Halloween Dance in the gym.......and JCAC totally got to sponser the Video game night freshmen year.

*sigh* I just don't understand.......

I'm really starting to hate people. Like more than normal.

Writing Workshop Woes

There comes a time in every writer's life, when you encounter an imposter, a wolf in sheep's clothing so to speak. This person is usually an English major who happens to take Creative Writing Workshop.

Now, I'm not knocking those who cross-over. Some of them have the best ideas and turn out to be the best writers. However, there is a difference between coming into class to share and learn and coming into class like you own the place.

Having an informationsal letter that demanded you answer certain questions (which, btw, were numbered.....talk about a Type-A personality!) and only those and in that form, could possibly irk you a bit. Then having the author say "please give me feedback you feel is relevant and necessary" might tweak your meloncea a bit more.

The final blow in my opinion was to have said "I think it could be a very strong piece with the right feedback." Uh-uh betch you did not just say that!

Bascially, this individual is an English snob. She's spent several years now completely analzying different works and so she finds herself above us normal writers. That doesn't fly well with me. I will not be condescended to. She asked us for help with her peice; she has no right to demand things and act like she's deigning to get assistance from us.

We own the field bitch......you're just a rookie. Don't act like you're higher on the food chain than us, cause we certainly wouldn't pull that shit with you in an English class.

I will not sit and take that shit anymore in my life. I'm too old for it.

>_<

*flames.....flames...on the ...side of my face....*

When the Piggy Flu Hits You

Now, I don't have the Swine Flu, the Piggy Flu, H1N1, Hiney or whatever it is we're calling it today. But....I was just informed that one of my classmates does.

H1N1 has hit SVC.

My classmate is quarentined at the local hospital. Might I add that I heard this from another student, not from the school admin itself. Of course, they might be waiting to inform us in the morning. *coughabouttimecough*

Still, the lounge has been wiped down with Clorox. The railing leading up to our floor has been disinfected. The instant we were informed of this, I ran to the bathroom and pulled out the wipes while my friend began slathering on hand sanitizer. None of us want the H1N1 obviously.

I can only imagine how our professors will react. They told us in no uncertain terms that if we got it, to get the hell out.
"If you get the H1N1, you will be unhappy. If I get it, I will be unhappy and so you also will be very unhappy."--as put by the amazing Scott.

So, take care that the Piggy Flu does not come near you:

--wash your hands (which you should know to do anyway)
--disinfect your door knobs, railings, faucets, etc (you might want to do this anyway in a dorm......you KNOW why)
--go to the nurse if you get flu-like symptoms (or you start oinking uncontrollably)
--wear a medical mask, which you can get pretty easily especially if you or any of your friends are nursing majors (if you want to feel so much more safe and manage to cause mass hysteria from the mere sight of you at the same time)
--don't visit Mexico at this time (I know....but that's where it came from so....rethink that weekend trip to Cancun)

Peace, love and --*oink* oh, excuse me--Pluto!

[btw, TOTALLY kidding about that last bit]

A Guide to College Life: Those Students To Avoid

As a junior in college, I've realized that there are just some people that life would be better without. Or at least my life, if they suddenly were blown by some strong wind to Oz or Never Never Land, far from me.
I assume that I'm not the only one who has encountered such people. And so, here is a profile of those who you might want to avoid encounters with.

The Sleaze
At first, he seems harmless. He might be quiet, he might be charming. Perhaps, he acts like he has morals. He portrays the nice guy act as much as possible. And then, all of a sudden, he changes. He begins hitting on your best friend. Still, you think, "Hey....he's a nice guy. Maybe they'd be good together."
And then, you realize (through whine sessions and observing his prowling through younger girls like a shark through a school of fish) he is a self-absorbed, sleazebag who only wants in your friend's pants.
Note: he also might have groupies. Warn Freshmen girls about him. Warn your friends.

Mr. Sketch-tastic
Seems innocent. Might smile, but watch for the leer. He might start things out innocently enough by saying things like, "Wow. You're really smart. Could we study together?" or "Wanna be laundry buddies?" Be wary. Be very wary. Don't take invites, don't walk alone.

The Lounge Nazi
The title should be self-explanatory. This individual (most likely female) is a severe Type-A personality. They must have control, even of the TV that resides in your lounge. They most likely have a schedule taped to the television or table, informing everyone of the times the tv is not available to anyone else. Tread carefully in this area. As a type-A person, they're most likely to go running to security if you decide to mess with them by say, rewriting their schedule or hauling another TV out and watching something on it to interfere with their shows. Still, if taking cheap shots like so are ways of staying sane, by all means, Hawkeye and Trapper, continue.

The Emotional Drunk
It might be a roomate, it might be a friend. Who/whatever she/he is, you KNOW who I'm talking about. They're the one that cries when they've gotten wasted. They think everything is their fault, or maybe they begin to tell you how emotionally damaging it was that one Christmas when they didn't recieve Hungry Hungry Hippos from Santa.Whatever it may be, I can only suggest calming them, doing whatever it is you normally do with your drunks, and leaving. They'll only continue if you stay in the room.



And as this one has totally procrastinated enough this evening, she is signing off for now. (There may be possible additions to this issue over time).
Peace, Love and Pluto!