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....*