I Haven't Been Honest...

I haven't been quite honest about my intentions...

I know that I when I started this blog,  I started it with the intention being light and playing around with my humorous side.

I don't mean for this to sound masochistic, rather, I want to present to you, my fellow readers, my reality. The reality in being a Blogger, an aspiring writer, a Millenial on the internet today...

A human being.

It's important to portray the reality of things, especially given our society today. Social media is something that hits me the hardest. I know that a majority of it is performance and does not show the full story of people's journeys, yet still, my subconscious can do nothing but see absorb what I see as the reality for people today. It does not understand that time does not exist on the internet, and that people can be very immature, or very much mature. Just, basically, there are a lot of unseen nuances that get lost in translation on the internet.

I am presenting myself to you, today, as real as I can possibly do:

I have depression, and today, I feel depressed. I want to be as honest as I can be.

I always wonder if even those with the most privilege in the worlds can experience these feelings, and what their depression looks like.


To be honest, my fall semester of my Sophomore year was my hardest because I experienced so much loss. I lost my great aunt whom, until her passing, I hadn't realized had a very influential role in my life. My family lost our home, and our landlord threw away all of our belongings without us knowing, rendering us completely homeless.

I had not experienced the homelessness myself since I had the cushion of scholarships paying for my housing during the time. I did, however, feel extremely guilty and simultaneously helpless. I felt like I couldn't give my family much more than what I had because I had nothing myself and had to got to school and work at the same time. And several other personal things I can't mention now happened to me and my family.

Not to mention the joke of an election happened in that same year. 2016 was just a trash year.

I just felt like complete shit. I felt like I was being a horrible person to everyone--my family and friends. And I didn't know how to be well.

The same thing, to a lesser caliber, is happening to me now. Now that I am experiencing the first summer to myself, since moving from my house, I am realizing that I never really learned how to enjoy myself. How to be social. I would always put myself into working situations.

I never learned along the way how to call up my friends and ask them to hang out (this stopped in high school). I never used to go out to parties or to places with people. I usually just did my own thing. I never got into dating. Everything that a lot of people did in high school, I am barely learning.

It's like--I am approaching my third year in college and I still haven't gone on a date. Lots of dysphoric thoughts are clouding my ability to render myself capable and beautiful, even in the face of adversity. In a lot of cases, though, I am too shy to take the first leap, mostly because I have never experienced it before, thus I don't know what it looks/feels like and cannot determine whether the outcome will be a good use of my time or not.

Dating isn't the only thing that bothers me, though.

Even asking friends to hang out is a stressful situation for me, even though I very much want to do so. The social anxiety and once again, the dysphoric thoughts, tell me that I am incapable of being good company or whatever, so I back off.

But this is hurting me. I want to have more fun. I want to experience more life. I no longer want o isolate myself, because I know that I am not growing by doing so,

and summer is over soon.

Junior Summers ~ I have to Poop

I am kind of back again!

And it is the summer before my Junior year of *gasp* college!

Can you believe that this has even come to fruition? Each day is honestly like a dream!

It's true. I do feel more radiant and beautiful, and wonderful in the skin I possess. And the way that I wear my pride is becoming noticeable to my peers. It makes me feel wonderous in ways unimaginable.

I am thinking much more about how I wish to present myself to the world, without degrading myself. Without feeling like my exterior is trash, and immovable.

I would love to finally embrace the clouds as I am flying on the hiatus.


I am also trying too hard to sound like a poet. And I have to poop.

*goes to poop while thinking of how to turn this into a meaningful metaphor* 

Too Much to Think About

Hello,

I am back from a two-year dormancy.

I feel like there is no need to apologize each time I come back.

The reasons I leave for so long are obvious:

I am living life.

Whether well or not, I think it is safe to say that so long as I come back to paraphrase at least some of life's happenings, then all should be good.

Right?

Ah, but who knows.

Or cares. 

I am happy to be back.

Right now, I am in the middle of my sophomore year, and the beginning of my second semester. Classes have been in session for two days, and so has the thunderous, pouring rain of winter.

Also, in two days, Trump's inauguration is happening. It sounds surreal, but alas, it is true.

I feel like, in 2016, or sometime shortly before that, the earth's/universe's life energy tilted on its axis for worse. It seemed like almost every possible (unpredictable bad thing) that happened in 2016 happened, and we were left no break at all. A ton of great activists and people passed for no reason, it seemed.

Perhaps the Mayans, Nostradamus, and all those other predictors of world decimation were right:

In terms of growth, 
I would say that I've grown nominally. That is, bits and pieces, rather than myself as a whole grew more than any other part of me. My social anxiety became a bit more manageable because of

1. Medication
2. Acceptance

I have begun the long, well-worth-it journey to self-advocacy and self-acceptance.

Some ways I have noticed this growth are:

I can stare at my own face in the mirror without feeling the rumble of grotesque disgust in my belly.
I actually have a reservoir of compliments for myself--created by me.
I am starting to show people my talents--in other words, the true me.

It's grand.

There is a video that's been circulating the internet that involves a pep talk by Will Smith. In it, he is making a motivational speech about letting go of fear and inhibitions when it comes to what one truly loves.

He says,

"God places the BEST THINGS in life                                                       on the other side of fear"


I was struck when I heard this.
This line, I have decided, is to be my mantra of the year. It's so true. The best things come to those who pursue their passions.

You know how some people perform on street corners and things like that, or those who have been perfecting a craft for many, many years? It just makes sense. People like to pay seeing those who do things in their element. Moreover, people come up with the best material when it's a craft they enjoy.

Though I say all this, I am (of course) having a major conflict at the moment.

Ha.

I just made a pun.

That is: I am STILL having trouble choosing a major. This is not good because I am at a public school.

The majors I am in-between right now are: Sociology and African American Studies.

I truly love African American studies, but I abhor the stares and upturned noses I get when I say that Af. Am. may be my potential major. I've even shit-talked the major.

It may seem clear to you, which to choose, but to me, it isn't!

I also would not be so confused if I hadn't had two other minors in mind, which are:

Creative Writing and Music.

See. See that?

The combination of them all sounds amazing---

BUT

STRESSFUL AND UNDOABLE AF.

However, combining such like: Af. Am with a minor in Creative Writing and Music, or
Af. Am and Sociology, with a minor in Creative Writing or Sociology with an Af. Am Minor or Sociology with a double minor in Af. Am. and Music or Sociology with a double minor in Af. Am. and Creative writing or---

(my current plan)

Sociology with a TRIPLE minor in MUSIC, AF. AM., and CREATIVE WRITING. 

It's all too much.