Fingers Crossed

Fingers Crossed

Today, I woke up feeling a little bit out of the of the ordinary. “Ordinary” for me however, is in most people’s eyes out of the ordinary for your typical twenty year old college student. For those of you who need a little catching up, my “ordinary” is a more depressive, somber personality as opposed to an optimistic, “wake-up-when-alarm-goes-off-and-get-out-of-bed-without-too-much-hesitation” personality.

I had woken up to the several hollers from my mom and couldn’t distinguish whether is was 8 am or 1 in the afternoon. I think that’s a good thing. Or, at least, it didn’t seem to make me anxious.Who knows how many times my mom said something along the lines of “Abby, honey. Time to get up.” I lose track and I also have the sometimes unfortunate ability to sleep through just about anything. Anyways, I somehow found the energy to get out of the comfort of my warm bed and trudged down the hall and into the frigid world that the rest of my family doesn’t seem to notice or be bothered by. To get to the point, my day was out of the ordinary because I didn’t feel anything. This typically strikes me later when I go through my daily routine of overthinking at approximately 24/7 O’clock, as a key to be careful and not let myself fall back into a dreadful state of depression. Today it was different. I felt nothing but I wasn’t sad or so heavy in my mind and heart that I couldn’t move. I was just at ease.

My day went on to be a typical Sunday but the feeling of ease slipped through each hour alongside me. Maybe it was the snow. It snowed so much today and it lasted hours. It wasn’t that shitty kind that falls for an hour or two and then leaves your lawn looking like an aging man’s head. There were buckets and buckets of snow, and they created enormous blankets across the town. I had to go down the street to pick up a prescription at the pharmacy and I don’t think I had been in Wallgreens for 5 minutes before I came back out to a solid half inch of snow on my windshield.

Maybe I was at ease because I finally built up some courage in my lazy ass to figure out what I’m going to do this upcoming semester and then proceeded to actually do something about it. For the past week I’ve lied to my parents, saying that I’ve been contacting people from my university about what I should do and how to go about changing my major and whatnot. Registration for Spring semester was over a month ago and I still haven’t registered, but today I wrote down what classes I would take and emailed specific professors with questions that I had. For a depressed person, that’s a pretty good start.

And now I’m laying in bed. I’m anxious for tomorrow, but in a good way. My new prescription is to help me with my ADHD. Yes. You read correctly. I now have been diagnosed with yet another psychological disorder. I have a pretty positive feeling about how my life is going to change with this new medication though. Part of the problem in my daily life is that I can never concentrate. I get distracted, then can’t get shit done and therefore become depressed because of that. If I am able to concentrate, I’ll be able to focus in school, get all the studying done that needs to be done in order for me to pass my tests, and all will be better. At least somewhat better. I’m crossing my fingers in hopes that these meds work and that I don’t crash and burn…again.

You can cross your fingers too. Please do.

the real ones

the real ones

Real friends are

 

The ones who you don’t open the front door for because you know that they will just come right on in

The ones who tell you that if you had a baby that they would treat that little kid like their own and give it the world

The ones who don’t even have to try to make you feel better. In being them they just do.

The ones that call you right after you text them the bad part of your day

The ones that talk you into coming over if they know you aren’t okay

The ones that appear at your house because they know you aren’t okay

The ones that you treat like family

The ones that become your family

The ones that you want to spend all of your best days with

The ones that you KNOW are always going to be there. They are going to be at your wedding and you are going to be at theirs

The ones that you keep in contact with even though you all live in different cities

The ones that are the first people you think of when you have important news to share

The ones that you do all of the crazy shit with

The ones that you feel 100% you around

The ones that you truly want to be happy even if you aren’t happy with them

The ones that tell you the truth no matter how hard it may be

The ones that you go on vacation with

The ones that you love

The ones that make you laugh until you pee

The ones that are there to support you and stand up for you

The ones that push you to be a better person

 

Thank you Al, Rinn and Meg for being all of these things and more.

 

Best isn’t best.

Best isn’t best.

I took myself off of my medication and it’s only been a week that I’ve gone without it. It’s actually one of the hardest things I have ever done. It’s weird remembering that this is what I used to feel like all of the time. I just really don’t want to rely on something that is making me feel “fake happy”. And who in the hell wants to take meds that changed a skinny girl into a girl that wants to die every time that she sees her body in the mirror or every time she sees all of the other small girls around her. It really is true. Skinny girls are the ones that guys pay more attention to. At least at the University of Portland.

Without these “happy pills” I think about all of the memories that just tore me apart. I was in a 2 year long relationship in high school. I also had the greatest group of friends. The boyfriend didn’t particularly like hanging out with the girl friends and the girl friends didn’t particularly like the boyfriend hanging out with them because I would spend most of that time trying to make him happy since I knew he didn’t want to be there. (Obviously I’m great at run on sentences).

Tonight I can’t help but dwell on the fact that for about 2 years…I only concentrated on trying to make both my friends and my boyfriend equally happy. I didn’t want to lose either side of my life. I ended up losing both. I worked my ass off to keep both, and to make both happy. I did my absolute best to do this.

My best wasn’t even good.

Now I can’t help but think that if my friends were my real friends that they would have seen how hard I tried and how much I hated myself. I saw them hurting and I talked to them about it. I told my boyfriend how I felt. I should have left him then because your boyfriend is supposed to care about the other people that make your life, your life.

Yeah I’m in college now and I have great friends but when you are a person like me, these memories don’t go away. When you remember them you will always remember the bad parts and no matter how much you want those parts to go away, they won’t. And they will be the only parts you remember.

Unless you take happy pills.

I’m smart enough to know that the happy pills are fake happy.

Still a {typical} teenager

Still a {typical} teenager

At least I made it to college.

I was one of those students that threw up at the thought of having to go to school on a test day. I was one of those students that would spend around 4 hours on her nightly homework because she wanted her handwriting to look nice. I worked my ass off to get to my dream school and to receive a well-paying scholarship.

I’m in college now. I’m at a great school. Its nursing program is one of the top ranked programs in the nation, so I’m not paying $53,000 each year for nothing. But being in college doesn’t mean that one immediately understands where their life is headed. Don’t get me wrong – I love being in Portland and getting the opportunity to really be the independent person that I am. I was just hoping for a little more when I left for college.

The thing is you still think about the things that kept you awake at night in your high school days. My high school boyfriend is no longer mine. I still love him as a dear friend but why the hell do I think about him so much. Why do I still hate those girls and why do my friends and I still reminisce about them. I’m supposed to better than this. I want to be better than this. It all seemed so important then but now I realize how stupid it all is…and for some reason I still fucking care.

It’s what teenagers do.

I can’t wait to be twenty because then it will all go away, won’t it…(wish I wasn’t joking).

At least I made it to college.

 

 

Rarely Optimistic.

Rarely Optimistic.

I should be writing a history paper right now. One, because I’m supposed to be “one of the best students.” Two, it’s due in less than two days. And three, it has to be at least 5 pages in length and I’m at a solid one and a half pages. I’m not writing a history paper right now. If I was a freshman in high school…hell yeah I would be writing that paper and it would be an A paper for sure.

Where I am at today is completely different from where I was as a freshman in high school.

Today, for the first time since seventh grade, I felt truly happy.

It didn’t last the whole day, which is fine. But when it suddenly went away I got mad at myself. I get so unhappy and sad for no reason. My brain just does it and I don’t know why or how..but it just does and this is how I have learned to live with my life.

Let me tell you right now, that my blog will rarely be optimistic. I just want to write what I’m thinking and feeling when I want to write, and I’m not someone that tends to think and feel optimistically. With that said, don’t be expecting some moral at the end of the story or a happy ending.

I think I’m where I need to be physically. After visiting home for the first time since I left for college, I realized that home is a place of much stress and anxiety for me. I love my family. They are my favorite people in the world. Being on my own in a place where I can sort of escape is what I think makes me feel less of the stress and anxiety I feel here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m stressed and anxious here too. It’s just different.

Right now, the problem is I know where I am, but I don’t know where I am. And I know who I am, but I don’t know who I am.

I’m in Portland. I’m at school. I’m in my dorm room.

I think I’m still…not moving…I’m nowhere?

I’m Abby.

Am I forever this girl I feel like I don’t know or understand?

I have a history paper to write.