Tag Archives: anxiety

year one

8 Sep

I haven’t written anything of any significance or in any form of prose in quite some time, but it’s honestly probably been for the best. While some could see this as a travesty, that I’ve abandoned my creative outlet in order to pursue some mundane day to day activity, I actually have to counter that when I used to write more often, it was mostly self deprecating or from a place of negativity. I tend to write in times where I feel restless and not content in my life and environment, and the words end up being pessimistic. Although writing is an amazing outlet, I have the clarity to look back now and realize that my writing, while creative, was also not the most beneficial for my mental state. It’s important to be able to laugh at yourself, but it’s never good if you’re making fun of yourself because you don’t like who you are. And that’s exactly what I was doing.

So, now that I’ve prefaced this with that little declaration, i’ll get down to the point. On this exact day one year ago, I made the decision to move back from New York to Massachusetts in order to work on myself. And I wanted to write something tonight because tomorrow I start a new job and embark on a new journey to figuring out where my life will go and where my life will end up. A year ago, I needed to figure out a career path, but most importantly, I needed to work on my mental health, which I have never taken the time to actually step back and do. For years, I have thought on my own and also have been told by others that I could benefit from working on myself and getting to the roots of my unhappiness. But I was always in a place where I thought that my unhappiness would work itself out on its own and it was just a passing phase, or that I was just unhappy and meant to be unhappy. I thought that some people were just meant to live their lives out not content and unhappy. But, over the past year, I have grown in ways I never would have expected had I not made the decision to take a step back and figure my life out.

Last summer was probably the height of my unhappiness. As cliché as it sounds, I went through a nasty breakup that left me shattered. Although I put my whole heart into that relationship and I fell very fast and very hard for my ex, our relationship did not last long (for the best, really. I thank whatever higher power there might be now that he broke up with me when he did), so after a period of time, I was extremely confused about why I was as sad as I was still. Yes, I was broken hearted, but I seemed TOO broken hearted for the situation. I was also working at a job that I hated more than anything. I really liked the people I worked with, and they’re honestly the only things that kept me sane at that company, but the work itself killed me. It was mentally draining and excessively stressful, and all of the stress and anguish wasn’t worth it for the work I was doing and the experience I was gaining. I found myself at a loss.

I kept assuming that over time, life would figure itself out. I figured that I would meet someone new, he would just magically appear and I would forget about my ex. I thought that a new job would fall into my lap and it would just happen to be exactly what I wanted to do and also pay my rent, while still allowing me to enjoy myself. But none of this was realistic. Not only would nothing just fall into place because I wanted it to, but also the fact that I wasn’t even enjoying myself anymore. When I was first living in New York, I really enjoyed it; I loved that it was huge and there were so many new places to explore and new people to meet. But over time, it started weighing on me. Getting almost anywhere was at least a 40 minute subway ride. Everything was expensive. I didn’t want to go to new places or meet new people anymore, I just wanted be surrounded by the familiar and back somewhere safe, where I could figure out my entire life. New York can be a really amazing place to be, but sometimes, it isn’t the right place to be. That’s what I had to figure out.

The second I realized that I had the option and opportunity to step back and figure myself out, rather than just taking whatever menial job I hated to cover my rent, I knew that was really the only option. My mental state had never been so out of whack before in my life. I was always frantic and anxious. I had never experienced anxiety so often and so regularly before in my life.

I can happily say that a year later, I have never once regretted the decision to move home. The only time I have ever really missed New York was when thinking about how I don’t read as much as I’d like to anymore because I had a commute everyday that I wanted to pass the time on. Other than that, I haven’t missed it. Whenever I visit New York now, I have a great time because I’m with great friends, but I always know in the back of my mind that it was never like that when I lived there. The day to day was not enjoyable. I was not happy.

This might be the first time in my life I can say that I think I’m actually on the path to becoming happy, at least without external forces. I’m not depending on a relationship or something physical from the outside world to determine my happiness and self worth. I recently wrote a list of 25 things I’ve accomplished before turning 25, and I realized that the list shifted from physical things I’ve accomplished (which were all pretty varied and I’m proud of) to how I’ve completely changed thinking about the world. I’m finally at a place where I am happy to sit back, work on myself, and enjoy spending time with my loved ones. I’ve unintentionally become a more optimistic person. My cynicism level has dropped and I feel like I’ve become extremely less bitter about the world. It feels good. I’ve never felt so “okay” before and I like it. I know I still have to work on myself, but it’s a work in progress and at least I’m taking the time to make time for myself. I’ve realized that some things in life will happen when they happen, because what is meant to happen will happen. But, there are other things, such as career and mental health, that you need to work on yourself. You won’t just become happy because you wish that you’d stop being unhappy. You can’t just sit and wish that life will change for you. You need to take the steps and actually try. Something from within has to change.

So I’m writing this all down now because it’s officially been a year since I’ve made the decision to work on myself as a human being, and I am really happy to think about how much better I feel. It just feels like my entire perspective on life has changed and I’m getting to a place where I am content in life, but in a good way. Not in a way that I’m accepting my lot in life because it is what it is, but I’m content in that I’m good with everything. As I said, I’m starting a new job tomorrow. I will be working as a one to one instructional assistant in a first grade classroom, and I really think that although it will be very challenging work, it will also be so rewarding and exactly the experience I need. I worked in a school once I moved back from New York, and it is the first time in my life where I worked a job I didn’t dread going to. I’m hoping this continues and I can really figure out my life, at least in terms of career. The rest will happen when it happens, but at least I’m working my way there.

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i need to get my frank sinatra playlist in order

15 Apr

As much as I like to think of myself as a realist, I think I have to accept that my thoughts lean toward those of a pessimist point of view. The proverbial cup tends to be neither half full nor half empty, but instead, almost entirely empty. I like to pretend that I think this way because it’s the most realistic approach, but really, I think I’m trying to fool myself into thinking I’m less a miserable human being than I really am.

But despite my affinity for thinking the worst, I have some impending new life changes on the horizon that I am actually actively making myself think positively about, lest I have a panic attack every twenty minutes every single day. I am planning to move in June to New York with my good friend Lauren (check out her blog, suckers. She’s on this site, too. There’s a chance she’s the only person reading this entry. There’s also a chance she’s not reading it at all. Let’s hope for the best) to get the hell out of Massachusetts and try something new to further our lives. They’re pretty bleak in Watertown. If I stay here too much longer I might explode. I actually assume my body is going to explode at some point, but it would be so much more eventful if it happened in the big city (da big apple lolzzzz).

I want to take this time to make a special shout out to my palz Steph and Liz; Steph who was my roommate soulmate when we were paired together in London and Lauren and I will also be living with once we move, and Liz, who was one of my roommates in Amherst last year but is now in New York, and I cannot wait to live in the same vicinity as again. Both of them make the thought of the move even more exciting. Moving with Lauren does, too, I guess. Lololololzzzzz #BadassBitch #LuvMyGrlz

Now to be serious and genuine on this blog for once in my life. I’m looking to get into television production. Ideally at some point I would love to write for television, but for the time being, I’d be more than happy working my way through the business and would be ecstatic just to be a part of it. My biggest passion is probably television and I don’t care how sad that makes me sound, it’s what field I want to be involved in because I feel like it’s what I am destined to be a part of eventually. I’m twenty-two, this is the best time for me to go. I’m young enough where even if I totally fuck up, I have time to figure my life out. I like having that option. It’s scary, but also amazing.

I am also at the point in my life where I need a change of environment. Living at home is not a problem because my parents are overbearing or anything, I really get a lot of freedom here. It’s the fact that I’m twenty-two and I lived away for four years and am not used to being here anymore. I shouldn’t be in Watertown. Aside from family and (roughly four) friends, there is nothing here for me. It’s time for me to leave the Boston area and go somewhere new that has more opportunity for me. I’m really looking forward to the change and I really think I need it for my mental stability and wellbeing. I don’t know if you all (all zero of you) have sensed it, but I’m more on the crazy side than the sane side, and I’m hoping to maybe even that out a bit more if I’m somewhere else.

Also, my favorite place that I have ever lived is London. I never thought I would see myself as someone who would love to live in a city, but ever since I came back from there, I’ve missed being in a big city so much. Sure, Boston is a city, but it’s too small for me. I need somewhere bigger, with tons of boroughs to explore. I don’t need a square I can walk from destination to destination in. The second I got to Piccadilly Square in London, I immediately thought of Times Square. The more I went around London and then later went around New York, the two reminded me of one another. I think that New York will be a great London substitute since I can’t make my way back there (as of now, it would be amazing if I could eventually live there again, but who knows what’s gonna happen in life? I ain’t a psychic or nothin’), I might as well be as close as I can be here in the states. I think that’s something I need.

So, because of my excitement over the idea of being somewhere new, I need to keep my thoughts positive. I know how difficult it can be to survive in the city. But, I can’t focus on that. Sometimes, when I’m trying to fall asleep at night, I can’t stop thinking about money and moving and costs and jobs and everything that a person is supposed to worry about when going through a transition like this. And whenever I do, I feel entirely anxious, I want to cry and I cannot shake the feeling. I’ve learned that thinking positively really does make a difference, despite how much I hate optimists (sorry about how horrible that sounds, but I just think they’re so unrealistic and I don’t like inspirational quotes. They have no place in my life), I know I need to remain optimistic about the move to New York or I will absolutely lose my mind and not be able to function for probably a solid week. And that would get me nowhere. Because all that’s keeping me here now is the fact that I’m making money for my move and I can’t do that if I’m not functioning. I need to be at least partially functioning in order to get some dolla billz. I never thought I’d be someone to keep her head up so much, but hey, I guess that’s just what’s going on now. Hopefully I can someday soon return to the self-deprecating, self-loathing, mentally unstable pessimist we all know and have come to ignore. But for now, I guess I’ll keep thinking positively and listen to “Baby Don’t Cry”, both parts I and II, by Tupac to get me through life.

I suggest you all listen to Tupac regardless of your life situation. 1 luv.

Oh, also, I’m going to Governor’s Ball and I am pumped as fuck about that. Our move to New York coincides with the weekend of Governor’s Ball (for the most part), so that just makes me doubly as excited to get to June and be in New York. Good things on the horizon, people. Good things.

Again, listen to Tupac. He speaks some powerful words.

it’s more the idea i care for than the actual realized version of it

13 Apr

My mother has done a lot for me throughout my life. She has raised me, clothed me, fed me, taught me much of what I know that has shaped me as a person. But, I’d have to say that arguably the best thing she has ever done for me is passing on her ridiculous and uncalled for fear of animals to me. 

This might confuse some people. It’s a good thing “some people” don’t read this blog. However, I really hate animals and I have irrational fears of them touching me, and a lot of that has to do with the fact that my mother is the same way and I learned this from her. I am by no means an animal person, and I think that this has helped me value humans more. This is interesting because I really hate humans, so let’s think about how terrible I’d be if I didn’t have animals to compare them to. This entire post will probably be the most controversial thing I will ever write because are so weirdly sensitive about their pets. I don’t entirely understand why they feel the need to defend these animals. It’s not like they birthed their pets themselves. If I insult an animal, it should really affect other people in no way. Your dumb pet is in no way a reflection of you being dumb (but you’re probably dumb, too).

People tell me that I’m not an animal person because I never had pets when I was younger. Let’s be clear: that’s untrue. I had a pet crab and a pet fish (actually two pet fish because my friend let mine die while in her care and then sneakily bought me a new one without telling me, and then I accidentally let that one die). Those obviously aren’t “big” pets or whatever you want to call them, but I was their owner, and they just happened to die because I am not an animal person. That’s actually not true, all animals eventually die, they were going to die regardless of if I was their owner or not. But aside from this, I’m happy I’m not an animal person. My mother has the belief that you should not trust anything if it walks but isn’t human. I take this to heart, and because of it, I have a heightened fear of animals even touching me/being around me/in my presence than anyone actually should.

I should also mention that I am allergic to fur (which people also see as a bias on my end, but I don’t care about biases, we all know this), and rather than growing out of my allergies, they’ve actually become worse as I’ve gotten older. I now get physical reactions in the form of hives if I sit on a couch that’s covered in animal fur or if an animal happens to touch me. This puts me in a state of fear that is extremely overwhelming. Like I actually get anxiety when I think about being in the presence of certain animals that I know have an affinity for coming up near me and rubbing against me. Or even being in a house that I know I will get a reaction from because of the dander in the air. It freaks me the fuck out (I actually freak the fuck out if I go to someone’s house and there’s an animal just walking around in general, it doesn’t even have to touch me. I just have the fear it’s going to and that I’ll die).

I sometimes am asked to feed my neighbors’ cats and this is a horrible job for a person like me, but I always do it because they pay me, and let’s be honest, what I care about most in this world is money. Anyway, this family has two cats. One of them leaves me alone and just walks away, but the other one likes to rub against my legs because it wants to be played with. I am sorry, but I’m not sacrificing my ability to breathe and not have an asthma attack because a cat wants to be played with. I simply do not give enough of a shit about the happiness of animals to do so. Also it’s summertime whenever they ask me to feed the cats, so I’ll be wearing shorts and the thought of the cat rubbing against my bare legs is more than I can handle. I once learned how to trick the cats into the basement, but the next time I tried the same trick, the evil cat HISSED at me. I was so ridiculously scared that I ran out of the house. This shouldn’t be how a grown up handles a situation like this, but my mother taught me well, so I knew to escape as fast as possible (don’t worry about that devil cat, I ended up wearing pants over instead of shorts so if it rubbed against me, it wouldn’t touch my direct skin. But I still flinched whenever it came near me. Also, I started bringing other people with me to distract the cat while I dished out its disgusting food).

What I also admire about my mother is that she, like me, doesn’t care to hear stories about people’s pets. Sometimes stories about pets can be funny, I will admit that. For example, my friend Amanda’s dog Bella eats glass a lot. That isn’t inherently funny I suppose, but the way she delivers the story is always entertaining, so she wins me over there. I guess it’s not so much the context of her pet stories, but really her line delivery. So I guess I really just don’t like stories about pets otherwise. Also, I know her dogs, so I’m more likely to have interest in her stories than other people’s. Like, if I’m in a conversation with someone else and we’re talking about human beings, don’t start telling me about your pets. Pets are not the same as human beings to me. I am SO sick of seeing people upload pictures of their pets. My Instagram and Facebook feeds really do not need to be full of pictures of cats and dogs, both of which I don’t care about and don’t desire to see pictures of. No matter how cute you think your cat is, I will never agree and I will never think it deserves to take up so much of my social media space, or yours for that matter. Oh another thing, I love babies. So if we’re talking about babies, DEFINITELY don’t start telling me about your pet. I would much rather my feeds be filled with pictures of other people’s babies than other people’s pets. Babies are everything to me. I’m absolutely a baby person, I could talk about and play with babies for hours. You can hate that about me, I don’t care, but I’ll just think you were born without a heart.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, invisible robot reading this post. “There have to be some animals you like! Like you just mentioned your friend Amanda’s pets that you already know. That’s a positive on the side of those of us who foolishly enjoy the company of animals!” You know what, imaginary friend? You are correct. In theory, I do like animals. They are fun. I love monkeys, giraffes, and penguins. I think those are my top three animals. But, it doesn’t mean I’d enjoy being around these animals. I’d probably end up crying.

But if we’re talking about domestic animals, aka animals there’s actually a chance I’d end up being in the presence of, that’s another story. I fucking HATE cats. They are the spawn of the devil, they are so terrible in every single way. Kittens can look cute, but cats definitely hate everyone and you never know what they fuck they’re thinking, and I’m convinced that what they are thinking is to overturn the human race. Stupid dicks. Hate them. I have some friends who have pet dogs that I can stand being around, but only because these dogs are docile. Aside from Amanda’s dog (not even her dog Bella, really, I’m allergic to her. More Amanda’s dog Hammy, who is chill as fuck), my friend Laura has two pet dogs, Charlie and Biscuit. I like Biscuit because he is older and doesn’t touch me, but he will sit next to me and he feels nice to pet. Also, he’s a bischon frisé, so he doesn’t have fur and doesn’t bother my allergies. However, Laura also has a dog named Charlie, and as much as she loves him, I really dislike him because not only does he jump all over me, but he also licks me. That’s actually repulsive. I don’t need you licking me, dog. I once slept over another friend’s house and was awoken by her dog licking my face and I almost threw up. I have no time for such shenanigans. I also really dislike when big dogs have too much energy and act hyper like little dogs. It’s one thing if Laura’s dog Charlie jumps on my legs because he’s tiny, but it’s another thing if a full-grown dog does the same because he can knock me over. Like, I don’t need to fear for my life that an animal is going to knock me down and then possibly continue running all over me because they have no sense of personal space. I have a bubble and you need to step out of it. It’s just rude.

I also have a fear that animals are going to poop or pee on me if I’m holding them.  This is probably irrational, but it could happen, and I don’t need that on me. Leave me alone. Let’s see, what else do I have to say about animals? I just genuinely don’t like touching them or being near them, unless they are a dog that does not have fur and can calm itself down. That’s pretty much it. I like the idea of other animals, but wouldn’t want them in my presence. Animals just smell so bad. It’s so gross. I do like memes of animals (usually cats) with imposed text over them, that does make me laugh. But this in no way means I would actually want a cat near me. Cats can go fuck themselves. Life would just be so much easier if animals weren’t ever in my presence. Also, this could be controversial, but like, no one reads this blog so who cares. I really hate it when people value the lives of animals over the lives of humans. Like I hate when I’m watching a scary movie and a human dies and someone has no response, but then a dog does and someone goes “awww”. Like, a human was just murdered. Why is the animal dying worse than the human dying? I just don’t like when people would choose saving an animal over a human. Call me cold hearted, I don’t care. Humans don’t usually make me sneeze. That’s more than I can say about animals.

It does make me sad, however, that I can never be a spinster surrounded by cats, since I would rather be buried alive than live with cats. It’s just such an easy cop out as a way to live life, and let’s be real, I’m on my way to being alone forever. But, I can’t have cats so I can’t fit that amazing archetype. I figure I’ll just be the crazy television lady instead. I’ll live out the rest of my sad life watching tv shows and complaining about them on the internet. So pretty much, I’m going to continue doing what I’m doing now, but possibly making even less money. If I don’t need a human to share the rest of my life with, I sure as FUCK don’t need a smelly animal.

Oh, also, I have an irrational fear of anteaters. Like I can’t even look at pictures of them without panicking. But that’s really another topic for another day.

For your enjoyment, here is my favorite animal meme.

For your enjoyment, here is my favorite animal meme.