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Saturday, May 18, 2013

One of the Biggest Regrets


That's another thing. Making fun of people who can't socialize. It sickens me. I've spoken up about it and I thought I converted people away from it, but in public, they slip back into it. It always comes back to this.

There was a kid who seemed to linger around groups. He didn't know how to socialize at all and people made fun of him. To his face. To his face. And it was sick. It always comes back to this kid. Every time someone makes fun of a kid for wanting to be on his or her own, I think about him. He went through tough shit and he didn't harm anybody. He didn't harm a single god damn person and people still made fun of him simply because he was "awkward."

He didn't contribute to group conversations, but he tried. And for some reason, nobody tried to incorporate him. I didn't. I didn't do shit until the last moment. People avoided him, made jokes about him to his face, laughed at him. He was not a bad person. He wasn't cocky or condescending or rude or stupid. He didn't backstab anyone. He didn't ever mistreat me. He made comments on certain things, but it was clear that he honestly didn't understand why others opposed them. 

For example, he made a conversation about race once. This is going to sound odd, but he linked my nugget baking escapades with my skin color and the related stereotypes. So yes, I was upset. But everyone else around him at the time was making jokes about race and they were tolerated. He wanted to be tolerated. He wanted to fit in. He wanted to just be fuckin' accepted. 

I didn't do shit. I used to think I was doing him a favor by talking to him once. That's a shitty way to live, that's honestly horrible. To feel like some sort fo fuckin' hero for being nice to that one kid. No, but after a few of those conversations, he actually became really wonderful to me. 

This is not meant to be odd, and I don't mean this in a romantic way at all. But I saw him. Not the social outcast or the awkwardness. I saw him for him, and that was a victim of shitty people. We had no fucking reason to exclude him. No reason. He didn't mean to hurt anyone. 

He is not a bad person. 

You know who the bad people are? The girl who thanked God that he left the school. Also, the girls who agreed. Who else/ The girl who once thought she saw him in the parking lot one day and said she got legitimately scared. And the girl who saw this going on and didn't do anything. 

Only one person has really understood how I feel about this. The others I have told seem to "forget" agreeing with me about how cruel the treatment was and they continue to laugh at him when they are in public. Some people try to fix it after laughing out loud. It's noble, but it's even more noble to be able to hold back laughter and actually try to get him. 

His life could have been so much better. If people stopped being dicks. I feel truly sorry because of my inaction.

But I also feel incredibly angry. To be honest, I don't understand how some people can willingly enjoy the company of someone who harbors so much hatred for that which they don't understand. I prefer to associate with those who love others and don't judge based on little things. 

Dislikes.

I do dislike people. There is no use in trying to come across as the kind of person that loves everybody. There are some people who I wish to avoid because I dislike being around them. The thing is, my standards, if you will, are a bit odd compared to a lot of my peers.

Some people I hang around with judge others based on expressed intelligence. You've got the extreme smarties who choose to associate with those who take the same number of AP classes. Well, yes, part of this is because they share so many classes with one another. But the choice they make is in actively deciding not to hang around those who don't seem as smart. It's a valid reason, yes, but my issue with that is the whole superiority thing. They don't associate with them because they believe they are better. That shouldn't be the case.

Now, a valid reason would be because there are limited opportunities for intellectual discussion, less of a chance for those groups to share common interests. One bunch might want to share a science article on why piano players have better driving skills than flute players, while they other might not be interested at all. (And yes, I realize that interests in topics are not limited to a certain intellectual level, but it's merely an example!)

I stopped limiting myself to interactions with people who seemed openly intelligent. My friend group is a smart bunch of kids. But I don't dislike others because they don't seem to be as intelligent. There are people who honestly talk shit about those who are "slow". That's what pisses me off.

The people I dislike are those who believe they are better than others because of their intelligence.

I also dislike cocky people. I always have. The only people I have ever seriously disliked share the trait of pretentiousness. Every single person I have ever truly disliked in high school, all five of them. People who constantly feel the need to bring up themselves, their accomplishments, their medals and IQ levels and GPAs and grades. I have honestly never been interested in that.

What draws me to people is their lives. What they are doing outside of the classroom. It's neat that they can understand material easily, but it what they do with it and all of the other things they've experienced that interest me.

I cannot stand cocky people. Their arrogance is suffocating and instead of seeing them as the amazing, talented people they want others to see, I see them as broken records. It's them, them, them, their parents, their boats, their looks, their motivation in classes, their sports.

This is far different from confidence. A confident person would be able to show their talents and hard work in what they do. NOT what they constantly tell others. I hate bragging. That's one thing I really do hate.

You can have a conversation with someone about something you've done, yes. You are proud of something you did. But bragging is intentionally showing off. I don't care for that.

I'm not too sure where the people who feel the need to correct others fit into this. In a sense, they can be considered cocky if they correct in a really condescending manner. It's just a really nasty trait to have, it's a nasty way of dealing with people. The proud and high and mighty are often very condescending, I guess in order to emphasize how much better they are than others. There are people who correct others because they want them to perform a task or something in a more correct/efficient way. But others take on the tone of, "How could you possibly do it in that way? That's dumb."

That crushes people, my goodness. If any of you feel compelled to make corrections, don't say something is dumb. When people make the decision to do that, they probably had their reasons. Sometimes, we look at a situation from the outside and can't understand why anyone would do certain things. We apparently know something they don't, and they're missing that, so they are making "dumb" decisions.

However, we have no idea what experiences they have been through prior to the event we are judging them on. We have no idea what's going on in their heads and they might have reasons for doing what they did. The only person, according to me, that can make stupid decisions is myself. I know myself and I am able to understand that I should have done something differently.

Do I look at the decisions of others and disagree with them? Yes. But it ends there. I disagree with them, but I see no point in thinking about it. Instead, I have to make following decisions based on that. Understand and move on, it's possible to do without condemning others for something they thought was a good idea.

With this attitude, my tolerance levels have shot up. This might be dangerous. What do I think of the 19-year old father who chooses to neglect his son, no child support, no further schooling, still continuing to chase women? That is different. And it depends on whether he is aware of the harm he is causing by his choices. There is a "wrong". There are correct decisions to make in that case, and at this point in his life, he can be expected to be able to make them. I disagree with his choices, but I don't think they are dumb. I think he should not have done all of that. Is he stupid? No. He's just a really shitty decision maker.

So, I take a special sort of offence at terms like "stupid" and "dumb". I've always had this "thing" about intelligence levels. This kind of attitude, that kids are so willing to call others stupid and some are so willing to look down on those who aren't intelligent, has become more apparent in high school. It implies that those who really are "stupid" according to the actual definition are worth less than those who are more mentally capable of advanced tasks.

My uncle is "stupid". The people who raise hell about caring for the mentally ill are some of the same people judging others for being "stupid".

I don't like people who judge based on stupidity. There was a girl who a lot of people made fun of. One of the reasons was that she didn't know what a furnace was in high school. That's merely due to a lack of exposure. Some people just haven't been exposed to things. Yes, some people don't read. The attitude today in a lot of the people I associate with is that people who don't read are not worth my time. Reading is magical and it really does expand the human experience. I understand this like crazy, reading is what lead me to writing and both are among the most important forces in my life. But not everyone can get "into" reading as easily.

That does mean less exposure. So they are less likely to know various bits of knowledge and funfacts. They are less likely to be able to connect with others who love reading, that too. But people can still lead fulfilling lives without reading. They do so by getting out into the world and doing. A balance, perhaps, would be ideal. But ideal in terms of self-fulfillment depends on the individual.

It may seem like I'm a general relativist. Well, I do believe there is a solid right and wrong. But what about the areas that don't involve moral standing? Like whether or not you want to read.

I don't like people who take without giving back. I don't like people who use others. They expect friendship and kindness but they haven't made sacrifices to give back. It was really difficult for me to be friends with someone who expected me to give and listen when she needed help. But when I ventured out to her for assistance, she flipped the conversation back to herself. I don't like going to others for help at all. I try to make myself as, well, unhelpable as possible, but that would mean I would be asking for them to give to me.

I really do not wish to become a burden to anybody, but I genuinely like listening. Fuck, I love listening. If people need to get something off their chest, I'll be there. It helps. I do the same, but I just pour things out by writing. I don't like listening because I take joy in seeing people suffer. The opposite, in fact, I like it because it means they are possibly getting better.

Ummumm, what else. People who judge for trivial things. One girl had a Romney sticker on her laptop and people made assumptions. I'm not a supporter of some of his ideas, but the girl didn't deserve to be teased. I feel like the people who still fuss about this need to get out of the mindset of a middle-schooler. "She has cowboys on her blog," or, "she still listens to Nickleback." He doesn't know how to socialize. He doesn't talk to anyone.

(cont. on the next post because this is so damn long!)


Friday, May 17, 2013

Going Up

I don't know why everything is changing now, but it's new and exciting. I want to drag this feeling out so it can last longer, but what if there's something beyond this? 

A summary of what has happened in the past week or so, in regards to my outlook on life and opinion of myself:

Prior to the past few days, I had been perpetuating other people's image of me. They expected me to cry often, be indecisive, shy away from daunting tasks. It was comfortable in the sense that I was so used to it. Any attempts to change myself at that point were unnatural. I was afraid of fear of rejection by my peers. The people I knew would be surprised, shocked. What if I come across as too aggressive? What if they don't like my decisions? 

It seemed like I was afraid of every single person judging me, but looking back, that was not the case. I was only afraid of the judgment of two people. Everyone else didn't seem to care what I did, they only liked the good things. 

One of these people had a very positive impact on my life. She offered advice and tried to help me get better, and I really do appreciate it all. But I needed to be able to do things on my own. 

I guess this was the starting point in my journey away from self-hatred and disappointment. She basically opened my eyes to the necessity to change my current way of doing things. And it's not bad, it was true. At the rate I was going, I would have ended up an opinionless doormat. 

I went wrong right here. I looked into her suggestions, branched out and entered into a new territory. I tried to apply the worst situation to my life. I guess I figured that would equal more help? Other people around me were legitimately going through the worst of things. And they were getting help for it. So I guess I needed that, too?

Why, though? I'm still trying to figure that out. Why did I kind of want myself to be depressed? Why did I want to seek professional help? Why did I want to have anxiety disorders? I felt like harming myself just to be able to feel like I had an issue. I felt like going on websites to compare and contrast my "symptoms" so i could get that label. 

That was so idiotic. I wasn't looking for attention. I was looking for help for a problem I didn't have. Because I was trying to live up to the suggestion of that one person. If she was offering help, I might as well take it. But I kept looking for more help. And yet I didn't have it.

I was addressing the wrong problem. I had to stop pleasing others so much. I had to stop trying to have issues. It wasn't fair of me to take away the value of those who actually had those issues. 

This is not an attempt to blame, but part of the reason I was so caught up in this was the persistence. "Are you okay? Are you sure you're okay? You don't have to be okay, you know." So maybe I was being reluctant. 

It was a mess. I convinced myself that I had a mild form of anxiety and whenever something upset me in the tiniest way, I would choose to dwell on it. My problem was wanting to make things more significant that they actually were.

Couple that with the need to fit into the mold I had already built. Here is where the second person comes in. She would make a lot of jokes about my over-emotional attitude. She would reference crying and breakdowns in a humorous manner, because apparently that is what friends are supposed to do. She brought me even lower into this mask of self-loathing. And I couldn't distinguish my actual feelings from what I thought I was supposed to feel. 

But this past week, everything flipped. It wasn't painful, but eye-opening. The second girl said more things about my emotional tendencies and meant it this time. But I didn't connect it to the core of myself as I usually do. And it didn't hurt. Because I realized that wasn't me. 

I don't have emotional breakdowns. The two points that someone could argue against that would be the time I cried in the bathroom after being told off by another student after skipping a class and that time I tried to get drunk to suppress my "bad day." Both incidents had coincided with, surprise, that really vulnerable time of the month, and they were at the end of long days. 

While it is true I do not like judgment and would rather not have it directed at me, when it does happen, I do not actually let it ruin me. It was only at this point in the year, after I thought I had an extreme mental issue, that I took that and amplified it. Explaining it to people made it even more elaborate and intense, because they were there to listen and I was getting "help". 

The only events in my life where I expressed true agony and pain were spent on my own. One, when my mother moved out of our house after the divorce. Two, when my best friend moved schools in Junior Year. The most recent one was when I didn't know where my brother was. I handled those much differently. 

I cried without caring and I cried without feeling the need to show others. 

I do have a huge soft spot. But none of the other events were emotional breakdowns.

So I've accepted that. And this is the happiest I've ever been in a really long time. 

Because nothing is wrong, but things are still getting better. I like myself a lot more and I just feel... stronger. I don't feel like anything can hurt me. Bad things still happen and all, but I see them differently, they don't bring me down anymore, they're just there. And I can try to fix them instead of having to work in how others see me and how I'm supposed to fail their expectations. 

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Welcome to Happiness

I had a conversation with someone yesterday about happiness. It was one of those Transition Conversations. Those are conversations in which one or more people in a discussion realizes how captivating other members can be, as expressed through their ability to hold your attention with their words. These conversation, as I expressed on Twitter earlier, are the absolute greatest. This is what changes people from acquaintances to close friends. In these, people discuss the deeper things in life and they figure out what others actually are. It is in these conversations that a good judgment about one's character can be derived.

The conversation from yesterday gave me a deeper sense of appreciation for this person. It showed how much she thought about the world and it was really pleasant to be able to "human" in that manner.

She mentioned how she wanted to feel happy. No, content. The really sweet lulling feeling of comfort, the kind that pulls you away from everything else, until you no longer know what's beyond it. It's not too extreme, though, it's not ecstasy, it's not joy, it's not excitement. She wanted to feel that again.

Me, too.

There are too many things that can take away from us ever reaching that. Too many things that could destroy any chance of it ever entering ourselves at all. It took too damn long to get away from most of that.

And what they say is so true. It starts with yourself. I used to look at those little quotes on Tumblr that stressed how you should love yourself and how nothing can really come out of hating yourself except for really good writing. (It is true, I produced some deep-ass stuff while in the slumps) But it never struck. I'd see it and just wonder how? It's not that easy to love yourself when you don't even know yourself. I was trying too hard to please people and make myself perfect. I was trying too hard to be the me others wanted me to be.

It honestly sucked getting here. It was a horrid journey full of self-loathing, rejection, disappointment. And all of that hurt. And then I hurt in other ways, too, because I was really unclear about myself. It sucked. But along the way, I picked up some decent lessons.

High school is a rough place, a rough time. Four years of sheer hell with little bits of heaven sprinkled in. But it beat the insecurity away. The final blow was two days ago, just as high school was ending.

I got a scar on my foot that day. This is going to sound stupid as fuck, but...

I consider it really symbolic. It stung and it hurt and it ruined the fun I was having. I had to take a pause and examine it and clean it out and cover it. That's kind of the problem I had with myself. As this thing heals, I'm going to be reminded of it, but I don't mind. I know it's going to heal. That's where I hope the next few months are going.

Good things are happening. Over the summer, I was offered a job as a singer! I thought I had ended the singing days forever after the last performance, but I was recruited. Completely unexpected. Along with this came the idea to do more covers, just for the hell of it. I also plan on actually organizing a writing project over the summer. I just need to follow through. In addition, I plan on working at the Children's Museum. The world seems different. 13-year-old me would be shocked and hopefully proud. Yeah, you didn't get to Rice, but you are here and you are finally on the road to really liking yourself.

I am not as worried about leaving my family and friends, because I know that it is more than possible to keep up a relationship with them. I'm not worried about the roommate situation anymore, either. I found one and she's incredibly sweet and we should hopefully get along just fine.

I'm still unsure about my future, but...I am not sad about it anymore.

I think that's definitely enough for now...

My side

I need to lay some things out and clear things up. Recently, something blew up and people are still reeling from that. Innocent people were hurt and people did not get the chance to say all they need to say. It is alright to have to cut ties, but I feel as though everyone deserves to be understood.

From my point of view, here is what happened. I will start from the beginning. Freshman year, a pretty strong lunch group had been established. There were a decent amount of young people who seemed to work together nicely. I thought I would keep all of them beyond the three years in high school ahead of us.

But group dynamics shifted. I felt left out. The same thing happened with another girl, F, the one I had been the closest to out of all of them and who still continues to be my best friend. We both felt replaced by one person, a newcomer, J, in the group. Everyone seemed to like her way more than us and they paid more attention to her.

I simply did not know her as well as everybody else, but at the time we did not have a lot of things in common. In addition, she made me feel especially ostracized for not liking one of her favorite things. I would occasional participate in conversations in which I actually was shunned by her for not reading the Harry Potter series. She threw a grape at me once for admitting that, so eventually, I just tried to avoid the topic.

She might not have considered me at all as a potential friend, but I was uncomfortable for a really long time. I felt replaced. I felt like I understood why the others liked her a lot, since they had classes with her and more things in common. I felt out of place. F did, too. We used to have a trio. But J had come in and the trio fell apart, because the third member had gotten so close, along with most others in the lunch group.

At this point, I still didn't hate J. I just did not understand her. F and I left the group. We split up and went our separate ways. (To this day, I still regret not starting a group with her. Somehow, I don't know how, we still remain incredibly close, despite not seeing one another every day, sometims weeks in between. We ended up in different groups. She has an entirely new ones. For a long while, I kept on jumping from group to group, and I eventually ended up back with the original people. We're in different places, but it's still okay.)

It wasn't until, I think, the end of Junior year that I stopped feeling replaced. I had to work my way back into the group and it took theater to do that. After joining theater, I got closer to many of the people once again. Those were some of the greatest times of my life, being on crew. There are several people who are impossible to dislike and I am blessed to have met them through it. I got back in and felt much more comfortable with being there. At the same time, the other groups I floated with disbanded, but I remained close with another person, K. K was another story, we became really close and then she left.

That was the low point of Junior year. It was because I got ridiculously attached and I had spent so little time with her, relatively speaking. That, and I knew she was going to leave well before it actually happened. So I would feel sort of sad every time we interacted. She's the reason I hate goodbyes so fiercely. I know it might have been worse. There was another goodbye incident that people went through that was sudden and much more painful. But this still hurt.

I've never told anyone this. I know I mentioned earlier that I don't need help, but this was actually the one point where I needed someone to listen. I couldn't go to F, because she was going through hell while this was happening, and I was listening for her. She's the only one I could have told at the time.

At the beginning of senior year, I no longer had K to hang out with. Otherwise, I think I would have stayed with her and a few others in a group. It was at this point that I firmly became a member of the very first group. I was really close to a lot of people and after spending more time with them, our bonds only grew. Even with J, because the more I understood her, the more I cared for her. I no longer felt replaced. I felt like a new member all over again, but there were familiar faces. They became comfortable, and they became family.

Were there problems? Yes. There were times when I would get upset with some of them because of what they chose to do. But after a day of internally moping, I would go back to loving them. To be honest, J was the hardest one to learn to love at the beginning. Sometimes she would do things that I didn't and couldn't understand. There was a lot of hatred and so at times, I fell into that as well. We are very different in some ways and I would disagree with her but never say it. Throughout the year, I felt like I had to earn her favor. That wore off, though and it only took a few solid conversations.

It really is true. Once you understand someone, it's hard to dislike them. Once you understand what they are going through and where they are coming from, you begin to see why they are the way they are. And in spite of whether or not they mess up, you can still like them.

At the end of this year, I began to get odd feelings. I thought I was ready to leave and so I began rejecting the lunch group. In my mind, at least. It was the longest time I've ever stayed in a lunch group in high school. I began to feel tired of people, only two people. And this time, those feelings were strong and lasted longer. Annoying, even, but I just needed some time away from them. I began to try to ignore them, but they didn't deserve any of it. Combined with wanting to beat myself up, it made for very long, upset nights. I think J was going through that as well. We expressed this, I think, in very different ways.

I didn't show it, aside from trying to spend less time with two of them. It was a matter of overexposure for me. This was my first time leaving a bunch of people that I had grown so close to, so I did not understand how to deal with it. I kept on thinking about how wonderful it would be to leave the building and never look back.

But this feeling dissipated over the past two weeks. I felt more appreciative and torn up that I was going to leave. So I decided to really enjoy the company of every one of them. I just felt good about this and I wanted to leave on a positive note. 

But two days ago, I think it was two days ago, something blew up. A lot of innocent people got hurt in the process, but I believe only J and I are to blame for this. She felt replaced at one point as well. it wasn't just that, from what I understand, but she felt like people weren't caring about her and labeled her as dramatic. I didn't know this beforehand, the majority of the group did not. J felt replaced by the most recent member, H. She had ties through choir and theater with a large number of the group members. But she took a seat at the table during one of our retreats that J had basically reserved and J did not appreciate that. The rest of the group, including myself, was baffled, because we only saw and still see only the hatred. However, it kind of gradually cleared up. J still apparently dislikes H. I didn't know H until recently, but I had several meaningful conversations with her and again, the more you understand someone, the more you can like them. I know she made some decisions with her life that I would not have made.

J especially did not agree with them and she was very vocal about it. I also voiced my opinion on a lot of her choices. It's time to own up to that. I didn't get why she would make some of the decisions she did. But that was before finding out about her past. This all happened within three weeks. In those three weeks, I had to stop bullshitting myself. My own viewpoints about things changed due to a number of things and I found myself admitting to doing some of the things that I once despised.

I became more tolerant, more open to some of the things that my dad would faint over. Where's my sense of morality? Does this make me a hypocrite? Yes, and I admit to that. It has been called out several times. But I am finally addressing it. I once judged based on the same values I now reject.

The thing is, I am allowed to contradict myself at times. That is what growing up is about. It's about messing things up. It's also about fixing them. It's about forming the person you hope to be after realizing how much you've ruined things.

So here's the trouble. J really didn't like H. I did. Several other members of the group did. There seemed to be a rift. A total of six members of the group opposed J's hatred of H, nobody said anything about it, though.  They all liked H and considered her a part of the group. Possibly three members, including J, opposed it. Partially because they didn't know H as well and they didn't agree with her background or understand where she was coming from. Not liking someone can be understood, but hatred is different.

What bothered the six members a lot was how open J was in expressing her hatred. Through Twitter, several things were said that honestly seemed childish. It was cruel of her to say what she did, that is what I firmly believe. The members have discussed it before and they did not approve, but nobody did anything about it. For a while, her hatred was mostly kept to herself, except for slight moments on Twitter, it seems. The six members were aware of it and we tried to keep it from H for a while.

J removed H from the Facebook lunch group that I created. H found out. This is childish. This is childish, this is honestly childish.

She then made a comment on the Facebook group that implied that everyone in the group opposed the addition of H. And that was the last straw for me. So I made a stand. H could see it on the group. Everyone could see it. I spoke out and said this was childish and J seemed to make a joke out of it. For the whole day, she seemed to be upset, because once again, her seat had been taken. The difference this time was that we tried to make room for her. We tried to make room, but she rejected it and we honestly didn't understand. We tried to help out. But there was a lack of communication. A lot of people are still confused. We were all accused of not opening our eyes to her problems, that is true, but at the same time, we had our own things to work out as well.

I kicked her out of the group. Was that childish? Yes, it was. And I take the blame. I initiated the blow-up, but it had been building inside her for quite some time.

Then a group chat was started in order to figure this out. And that's when things exploded. She said she's hated us and basically didn't care. She said we had annoying personalities. And here is where it got really easy to dislike her for that, because we had been a drama-free group that tried to care. but we cannot care without proper communication. People were upset and other were trying to help. But too many fuses were blown. It might be too late, I thought.

I should not have done what I did. But I wanted to fix things. I felt replaced by her at one point. I left the group because of it, but I didn't hate anyone. I just felt unwanted. Nobody listened to my problems either, I just kept things to myself when I was with the group, otherwise I told F.

She began to text me and point out my flaws. The things that I mentioned earlier, the stuff I was trying to make myself believe in. The weakness, the proneness to emotional breakdowns. She wished me a sarcastic good luck in college with my emotional breakdowns. She thanked me for fueling her ego. She said I wouldn't know what pain was like because I had always been treated like a puppy within the group. Except I had been going through a very similar situation. She tried really hard to knock me down and it really could have.

But the timing was odd. I had been feeling good about life and more confident in myself. But this took things in an odd direction. What she said didn't hurt me. The only thing that could hurt me would be something related to my brother. I have been afraid for so long about losing friends or having someone hate me. But that, too, was a part of the Weak Delusion I mentioned earlier. Because I do not get affected by it. She thought I relied heavily on friends. That started and ended with K. When K left, I learned to be less dependant on people.

When she said those things, I remember looking at my phone and at the screen and just feeling really sorry for her. It was not a sarcastic kind of sorry, it was just a lost kind of sorry. It wasn't a sorry that made me feel better than she did, because apparently I knew something she didn't. It wasn't a sorry that made her look bad or weak or messed up. I felt sorry that she had to go through this. It was a mistake that I made, taking her out of the group. And it was really bad timing for her, since she had been having a really shitty day. There was too much going on. So I didn't mind being the thing she unleashed on.

I didn't mind because I think it helped her get all of this out. I think being able to attack me helped her with some of the things that had been pent up inside. I hope it did. When I told other people, they were shocked that she would do that. But they don't understand her, or where she came from. It's all about that.

I sent an email to apologize for my action and try to fix things and I thanked her for all of the good experiences we had. If this really was the last time we would interact, I wanted her to know I didn't dislike her. I took the blame and accepted that I should not have kicked her out. I tried to get her point of view, but I don't think I ever will. It's okay for her to be angry with all of this, I do not think anyone really blames her if they know her.

She closed the friendship with that email, after targeting my apparent weaknesses once more. But if it helped her get everything out, so be it. I do not regret the time we spent together or the time I spent on trying to make her feel good. I did put effort into helping her out, but she was making the point in her replies that I was basically just used by her. But I didn't mind because at the time, I had fun.

It doesn't make sense to turn good memories into bad ones just because the current situation is sour. If you had fun, own up to it, be able to look back and enjoy it. If you know you won't be making any more good memories with that person, that's okay, too. But don't turn something good in the past into something negative.

Oddly enough, that launched, in a really kind of sick way, my path onto liking myself more. For being able to keep calm and not break down, when I could have. That's part of becoming an adult. I feel surprised in how I handled this because it was at the exact time that I accepted that nothing was wrong with me. Had I believed at the moment she called me out on being weak and over-emotional, I would have taken that and dwelled on it and torn myself up. But she said those things and I disagreed and it didn't take as much effort as I thought it would. And it still confuses me. Because for so long, I would believe that I was broken. And for so long, I had believed that I was at the mercy of others. The more I thought about it, the more effective others could be.

But I was my own person in this case, not examples. She called me a bird with a broken wing trying to fly in one of her tweets and I didn't feel upset. It should have made me cry. But I don't have a broken wing, I'm just not used to flying, but it's becoming more and more natural.

I'm still figuring out who I want to be.

I care about others and I can stand up for people. I can sing. I can draw (I don't show it). I write, I try to dance. I make cute boys laugh, and to me that's a really neat accomplishment. People look up to me. I've never admitted that before. I can take compliments now. I have never admitted any of this before, truly, so if this sounds really cocky from me, please realize that i have been hiding things for so long because of obligations. I cry at Hallmark commercials and strong books. I make a shitload of mistakes and I have a lot of regrets, but I am not weak and I don't need as much help as I thought. I'm an okay person.

I feel like a good person. I don't always do the right thing, but I have helped when I could.

I was really worried about college because I thought I wouldn't be able to figure myself out.

But I am here.

Myself

I am alright. I am okay. Yes, I have some things I could work on, but I can fix them. I don't have any sort of disorder and I don't need help. I am okay and it is time to fully admit that so I can actually start enjoying life.

It took this long to figure it out who I am. This isn't my final destination, at least, I hope not. But I've worked out a few things over the past two or three days and it's kind of a relief.

Here is what I thought I was, and here is what others tried to perpetuate. I must clarify that some of this was done with good intentions, not to bring me down:

People-pleaser
Weak
Anxiety-ridden
Depressed
Unable to say no
Unable to make decisions
Over-emotional
Completely dependant on others
Prone to crying over little things

So for a huge chunk of this year, I believed it. And there were people who tried to get it out of me, presumably so I could get help for it. I soon believed that I was just broken and that I needed to slap those labels on myself.

Aside from the jokes about my apparent weakness that only two people seemed to make on a constant basis, I portrayed myself as broken. It makes this seem like an act, but on the surface, I felt like I had to. I was obligated to try to be broken, since people had already accepted that I was.

It affected the way I lived. It took over in some respects. When I would get mildly and reasonably upset, I would attribute it to the way I was wired. I would overthink such instances and make myself stressed about it. When I would get disappointed, I would blame it on my possible disorder. It was almost like I was hoping that something really was wrong with me. At the end of every day, I was just confused.

I began to feel really sorry for myself, but it never hit me to the core. It was only on the surface. Even so, it felt like I had to keep opening myself up and picking out my own flaws, just to amplify them and label them.

I don't know what I was looking for.

The incident earlier this year, the alcohol and the attempt at self-harm, seemed to just be a way to solidify my own wavering opinion of myself. If I succeeded, that would have fully assigned that label. But looking back over that, I really wasn't feeling it. I didn't feel it, I knew that I was okay while doing it. I wanted to do it, just to do it.

That low point was a result of me over-thinking and wanting something to be wrong with me.

I'm still trying to work out why exactly I wanted to have issues. Some might suggest jealousy, because others who had legitimate problems were getting help. But that was not it. I cannot stress how much that was not it. I looked at those situations and I've been on the helping side and knowing that I couldn't even begin to understand what they were going through made me feel horrible. There was misery in that, and nothing about that situation was desirable.

It did take up a significant chunk of my time, this built up attitude. Time that could have been spent realizing and accepting that I was actually alright all along. Had I known that earlier, I might have been able to treat myself and others much better.

I got something out of this, though. It made me consider and respect those who actually do go through hell. There's a difference between pity and respect. You can't do anything with pity. But if you respect someone and know that they are suffering without feeling sorry for them, you are able to make more of an impact. I'm not a therapist, I'm not a psychologist, but I can listen and I can be there.

This also taught me that it's okay to be strong, just as much as it is okay to be weak.

I know who I'm not. I don't have anxiety, I just get nervous at times. I'm not a doormat, I'm just indecisive at times. I'm not in dire need of help. I am not depressed, I get sad occasionally. I am okay. I am alright and I'm still getting better.

I don't think it's bad to be able to be proud of this. I do not mean to imply that I am in a better place than those who cannot say the same. What I mean is, I am able to help others. Otherwise, I would just be adding to the worries of others unnecessarily, because my case, whatever this was, is not true.

I am alright and it feels damn good.


Monday, May 13, 2013

Clearing up the purpose...


We’re all headed toward the same destination, we’re just all on different paths. Some have it much harder than others, some aren’t aware of how great they have it. But we’re all headed towards death, it’s inevitable. 
Every day, we are faced with choices. Our backgrounds and past experiences don’t make the decisions for us, they are simply there in our minds with us as we face the options. 
Being well-informed about the consequences and the details seems to be a privilege nobody has all of the time. 
I’ve been busted up, too. Not in the same way others have, but people don’t seem to think I’ve ever felt anything other than fear or happiness because of how I carry myself.
Because I think I’m good at hiding it. I don’t want anything to leak out on people who don’t have time for me. I don’t want anyone to feel obligated to try to help. Because everyone has their own things going on and I’m just another person.
We have to understand, guys, you just have to understand that EVERYBODY could be going through something. Just because somebody is the perfect image of confidence and perfection in public, doesn’t mean that they aren’t wishing themselves off the Earth. 
So be upset. Feel every emotion to the fullest. Anger, rage, frustration, disappointment. Don’t do anything half-assed. If you are going to feel, feel as powerfully as you possibly can. The worst times make you appreciate the best times a lot more. When I’m low, I hate it, but I feel that to my core. It makes it more difficult to get back to “normal”, but the smallest joys seem to have a bit more significance after those negative episodes. 
Love just as intensely. Make decisions that minimize the numbing realization that we’re all going to be forgotten nobodies in 100 years. Our grandchildren will know us, but not who we are at this very moment. The person you are right now will be forgotten in 100 years, they’ll know your title, your name, probably just enough information about you to fill in a family tree for a school project. 
You’re going to be about as useful as a Wikipedia page.
The point? Make something matter. You can’t spread your influence through time, perhaps, but you can spread it through people you are currently with. 
Instead of hurting others on purpose, love until you hurt. Fall in love with people. It’s hard, maybe harder than hating people. But in my opinion, that is the key to enjoying life, even while realizing it’s going to end.
That’s how I want to live. But I make mistakes, too. So do you. We all do. Hatred is not a mistake. It is a decision. 
Hatred is exhausting. It’s harmful, misunderstood, and exhausting for others and yourself. It’s unnecessary. 
We’re unnecessary until we become the type of people others can depend on when they are broken. And that’s a career that will never die out, because everyone has issues. 
We have no purpose unless we interact with those and make enough of an impact on them to make them need us. And that requires love. 

On life

We all have our own battles. We have things that we hide and we sometimes want to ask for help, but we can't. In my case, it's because I don't want to let people get involved. They might get hurt, too. I don't want them to waste their time with me, especially if they have other things on their mind. I've never been able to ask for help.

But I've been trying to give help. It doesn't always work and I still make a lot of mistakes. Intended mistakes- choices that I make while knowing the consequences.

There are things in life that we cannot control. There are kids with fucked up families and broken homes. Kids who have been through physical and mental abuse. Kids who have seen stuff they were never supposed to see. We're all a bunch of broken pieces of something that is expected to look all fixed up and perfect around others. but damn it, that's hard.

What we can control, however, is whether or not to be dicks about something. We can make the decision to say negative things about someone. We can make the decision to exclude and include. We get to decide if we are nice to others or not.

Our past might influence us, it might steer us in the direction of wanting to hate others, to reject care from others, to bring people down. Our experiences shape us, that is true, and we tend to act out of habit. We tend to make decisions based on past information, past outcomes, and the most likely consequences.

On judgment:

People judge. People judge based on the worst things. I'm not going to smash judgment, entirely, but I'm going to lay out personal limits.

If anything, people should be judged based on the reactions they have to all types of situations. They should be judged on the decisions they make. Not their taste in music, not their favorite color, not their preference for math over English or their love of anime over live-action spy series. Those are, I suppose, decisions, too- but I mean major decisions. The decision to extend yourself onto others. The decision to not make fun of somebody because they aren't good at social interaction. The decision to gossip about somebody who does something differently than most people. If anything, people should be judged on who they make themselves, on the most basic level.

People should be judged on how they treat others.


We should judge based on the decisions that people make.


Thursday, May 9, 2013

BUT

Let's focus on the good? Here's what's good.

Singing.

Singing is super important.

It is now my way of coping with terrible events. From spilling Burger King frappes on beige carpet, to having your brother literally kidnapped, the combination of music and writing has honestly kept me going. I often feel burnt out at the end of the day. It's just something that happens after I've been around a lot of people.

My favorite memories involve being in the choir room before, during, and after a musical rehearsal to sing with some people. People would just make up harmonies and it wasn't like anyone was competing, because everyone sounded great. They all added their own flavor to it. We'd pick a song we all knew and Ethan would be on the piano. He didn't just play it, he made it sing, too. There were times when people felt particularly moved, and they'd take it away, and others would back down to let them have their moment. And then the chorus would swing around, so we'd join back in.

Everyone sounded perfect because they made it their own. With actual choir, things are more rigid. You have to sing in a certain way, there isn't a lot of room for mistakes with a lot of the things we are learning now. My voice is not really strong when it comes to classical music. I really enjoy learning all of the new terms and everything, but I can't remember most of them. It's still enjoyable.

But when people are free to do whatever they want... oh. Oh.

It's all kinds of singing, too. From the low muttered melodies you hear in the hallways at times, to the loud screechy joking kind of singing after a long day. What I consider to be "good singing" is singing where you can tell the person is feeling it. Even if they aren't belting out a love ballad while thinking about the features of their significant other with every single note, you can usually tell when someone is feeling it.

Sometimes people don't know they are singing. They might not be fully aware. It could be something little like that. I have a tendency to hum while doing repetitive tasks. It's still feeling it.

When I'm walking to my car after school, sometimes I try to tune out other sounds and focus on the melody of the moment. Wowowowow, yes, it sounds like bullshit, I am fully aware. I'll go on, though. I'll hear wind rustling through leaves and that'll be the main tune. My steps make up the bassline. Is it called the bassline r what, I don't know My thoughts make up the accents, the runs and rifts and whatever. I'll look at a blackened gumwad on the ground and associate that with a change in the song. A drum beat, colored and flourished and all sorts of wonderful. The click of my car's alarm thingy is a key change. It goes on. The walks after school are sometimes the most peaceful part of my day.

That's been the only real constant thing lately and I'm grateful for that.

Other than that, I've been diving into shows. I need to catch up on quite a lot of them, but on the plus side, I have something to do for this summer. I am pleased. Multiple seasons to catch up on, so many plots to experience, this is beautiful.

That and writing. I hope to keep writing. I can't do novels. I don't do novels. But I like writing casually. Maybe I'll make more of an effort to get an audience, although I'll have to start a new blog for that to happen. Maybe I'll keep a running collection of Facebook statuses. That'll take a long while to compile, but if people are willing to read them, I might as well. This summer, things are going to change.

Moving on?

I've thought and thought and thunk and thought myself into this horrid hole, and it's good that I'm leaving this environment, but what if it doesn't stop? I've become unhappy with my current situation and it is past the point of being able to fix it with a simple flip of a mental switch. The only things that seem to help are writing and singing, but I can't do both all of the time. So is the rest of my summer, at least, going to be nothing but distractions?

Sudden exposure to certain social situations, the resulting guilt from letting others down, the additional stress from the family and school have been bringing me down. When I say guilt, I mean guilt. I just sit and think about all of the things that went wrong, all of the things I could have done differently, all of the different ways a certain scenario could have played out. Little things like conversations during lunch, or comments made during class. It seems to be so much more self-inflicted mental pain than some of the other people. But I don't know them when they're alone, so I have nothing really to judge them on.

I'm tired, exhausted by having to put up with all of this day after day.

And the judgment, on top of everything, the judgment which exists- despite constant "reminders" that it's only in my head. The same people telling me not to worry about things are the ones that judge the most, literally picking at what I do and who I am and I can't fucking breathe, let go.

Except I do not want to let go. I am convinced that there is something I need to discover to reach actual happiness and contentment.

So I'm thinking that will be C O L L E G E. Except I hadn't even planned on going to this college and there are already complications because I'm still the same damn Micaela from freshman year, the one that can't say "no" and make a fucking decision on her own.

That's the thing, I'm the same fucking person, what the fuck. I've matured in some ways, I'm somewhat more understanding, more tolerant, more willing to listen. But I still can't do anything for myself with some people.

If I'm going to start over, I have to know what I'm going to do. I have to rewrite myself and start from nothing.


But how? Do? You? Do that? I still want to be liked by everybody, except the people who I thought were my friends, because I've gotten tired of them. And I'll regret this later, but right now, this is what I feel.

I don't know what to do?

Better because...


Almost there.

I need to leave, I'm about to get out of this glass room, finally. I'm about to get un-stuck. I'll leave things behind, I'll leave people behind, I'll just leave and start over.

It had been feeling like an online role-playing game for the past three months, except I was the only character that could make choices, while I saw everyone else as an NPC, doing what they were programmed to do. Everything was a routine, I would drive to school, interact, overthink, drive home. I tried logging out. Mentally, that is, but it was too hard. I tried blocking everything out, but that also included school, so grades dropped.

I became disappointed in a lot of people. They weren't there when I needed them, but to be fair, I don't let people help. And then I trashed the concept of helping, because really, what can people really do for this aside from listen? I guess I kind of did ask for help. I asked for help when I publicized the last few posts, I hoped that they would be read and that somehow, things would get better. But life is still going on regardless of my internet complaints.

I became even more disappointed with myself because I wasn't fixing anything.

I feel stupid, right now. Because there was a chance for something new, change. I had been craving any type of change, but apparently I ruined it. Of course it's my fault, that's what I've always thought.

I think I did something wrong, it's me, it's my fault.

But I'm almost there, sweet heavens, I'm right there. I'm so close to being completely through with this high school deal. I was supposed to somehow blossom into this super confident well-loved person. But instead I'm leaving this school with the sheer relief that it's over.

Did high school change me? Did the people change me? Yes. But I have been blessed with a mind that likes to amplify the negativity and disregard the positive.

What if college isn't any different? I don't even know what to try to make it different.

I made a college friend through email earlier this week. I'm frightened and I am upset with myself for being able to leave high school so quickly.

I'm sort of happier now that it has hit that high school is almost over. Except there are still times where I feel stuck. Today was a very stuck day.

Something happened with some people that made me feel triple-stuck, right back to middle school. People are being really fucking immature and petty and I just got really happy because I'm leaving. I know there will be annoying and childish people in college, but I'm going to be able to escape.

There are times where I feel horrible for having to leave some people. I don't know if i've ever settled on something for a long period of time. But I'm tired and I think I'm ready to go. 

I'm almost there, dear god, I'm right there.