The Bad Side

I think it sometimes comes across (to those other than the ones I am with all the time, at least) that I am always happy...that I try to find the good in everything. Which is true, I do try to find sometihng good in every situation because that's what I've learned I have to do to survive.

But sometimes, I get sad for no real reason.
It comes out of nowhere, is uncontrollable and the length of stay and severity is different each time.
I try not to say anything or act any different...we all have our sad feelings...so if maybe someone notices something and asks if I'm ok, I choke out an "I'm fine." and carry on. Because what else can we do but carry on?

Sometimes, though, the unexplainable pain is too much and the thoughts that come with it rage like a fire constantly being fueled with gasoline.
Thoughts of my every flaw, making me hate myself little by little until I can't take it and the tears appear out of no where, so I do my best to swallow them until I can run away. Problem here is...there isn't really anywhere I can run. Someone is always there and I don't want to burden them with my problems of thinking I'm just not good enough and nothing is going right.

Usually I can fight off the thoughts and emotions that saunter into my soul holding hands like it's no big deal if I keep busy. After a long day of classes and work, though, there is nothing stopping them. They pick up their weapons and they bash every bit of me, crushing me from the inside out.

Maybe I should talk to someone, but I can't seem to form the words "Oh, it's just one of those days where I really hate everything about myself and my life and can't seem to find good in anything..."

Tonight at dinner, the feelings came back and I found myself holding back tears with all that I had, but beginning to fail. So I left and headed back to the dorms, promising myself I can cry as soon as I get back to my room. I could collapse on my bad and finally call out in pain like I have needed to do for the past few days. But when I got to my room, my bed was gone. Everything was gone, actually... my roommates had taken all of my stuff to Sutton as a prank, so I fell on Kristina's bed and let my guard down, ruining the video they attempted to take of my reaction...

I heard the click of the door from Libby and Anissa's room, so I jumped up and rinsed off my face in attempts to wash away any signs of my breakdown. But as soon as Ariel entered the room, I just couldn't do it... I couldn't beat off the demons. I just forced myself into her embrace and cried.

After moving my things back to my room with the help of Ariel, Sarah and Hannah and trying to not cry in front of everyone in Hinley, I went into Anissa's room where Ariel was.
I asked her to lie in bed with me and for half an hour she just scratched my back and was there...not asking questions or even really talking... just being there.
I kept telling myself "She loves me...my friends love me...I am valuable. I have no reason to hate myself..." and for a time, it helped.
She got up to leave...and half of me wanted to scream "Please don't leave me alone...", but the other half, the one that always seems to win argued, "No. Let her go...don't be selfish. This is why you try not to let people see this side of you." Really, though, I don't know if she can understand how much that meant to me. For her to just be there...

So, yes, while I would overall describe myself as happy and optimistic, I do have days where I cannot stand who I am. Where I feel so alone and empty and worthless that sometimes it is struggle to convince myself it will be worth it to get out of bed. But those days are not the majority, and I know I have people who can get my mind off of it.
So for now, I will go on and pretend the feelings don't exist. I will argue with myself and fight it.

But now, I have to go put my stuff back where it belongs...and maybe wash my sheets. I don't trust the cleanliness of upstairs Sutton.

"When all else fails"

It isn't uncommon for things to happen that we just do not and cannot understand. This can be in our personal lives or the lives of everyone in the nation.

The attack in Boston today has me jolted. When seeing the news online today,  my heart sank and I just thought, "Oh, please, no..." It seems like as soon as the country is able to stand back up after one tragedy it is knocked down by another.
When the earth beneath us is suddenly shaking without ceasing and we cannot regain our balance, the population decides to turn to God. We realize we aren't going to be able to keep upright without help from something beyond the physical and we cry out "Oh my God!" this time not in vain, but in distress. We plead for help, for just a boost because we finally see that we can't do it alone. We can't stop the earth from shaking.
It is in times of pain and panic that we turn to God for peace. We pray for ourselves and those who may be grieving or lost or scared. We ask for comfort, for answers, for something to get us through.
I sit in the same desk in psychology every day. Scribbled in the corner, someone has written (here's a big nod to the fact I go to a Christian school) "God does not forget us in our distress, so why should be forget Him in our abundance?"

When the earth is shaking and we cannot stand, we cry out to Him. But when it calms and we can safely pull ourselves out of the rubble and walk the streets with joy in our hearts, we don't think we need Him anymore.

I think we are all guilty of this at some point, myself included. I praise God for guiding me through my challenges, but do I praise Him for just being? For caring for me when I mistakenly put Him on the back burner.

This happens every time a tragedy occurs in America. I am no by any means saying it is particularly bad. But when something such as this atrocity in Boston happens that FaceBook friends pop up with "Praying" or "Pray for"... Friends who it is, honestly, a surprise that they apparently believe in God at all. And wow did that sound judgemental of me.

It is like "when all else fails, I'll turn to God..."
When it should be that we face God at all times, knowing that when all else fails He will still be there.

Although is world will one day end, God is never ceasing.
"God does not forget us in our distress, so why should we forget Him in our abundance?"

I am praying for those affected by the tragedy in Boston today and I am praying for those who caused it. I am also thanking God for those who escaped unscathed, physically, and for the blessings all around us. But mainly, I am thanking Him for sending His son to die so we have the opportunity to leave this sinful, terrifying world and spend eternity with Him in heaven.

We All Have Our Purpose

I've been wanting to write about this particular topic for a while now, but wanted to wait until the perfect words came to me. I want to get my point across and I want it to make an impact. This is something very important to me and especially to my teacher heart.

Sometimes we use words without fully considering the meaning. We don't realize that using them in certain ways manipulates the meaning without getting it away from context and that this can cause a lot of hurt to people. Those of you who really know me know about my hate of "R" word, retard or retarded. I gave a speech on it last semester, in fact.

The word retard means (taken from dictionary.com)
verb (used with object)

1.

to make slow; delay the development or progress of (an action, process, etc.); hinder or impede.

verb (used without object)

2.

to be delayed.

noun

3.

a slowing down, diminution, or hindrance, as in a machine.

4.

Slang: Disparaging.

a.

a mentally retarded person.

b.

a person who is stupid, obtuse, or ineffective in some way: a hopeless social retard.

 

 

Now, notice #4. Slang:Disparaging. Well, what does disparaging mean?

1.

to speak of or treat slightingly; depreciate; belittle: Do not disparage good manners.

2.

to bring reproach or discredit upon; lower the estimation of: Your behavior will disparage the whole family.

 

 

 

I know that is all boring and technical, but I mention it to make a point. People generally use the word retarded in the slang form, connecting it to foolish, childish, or just plain stupid behavior. The problem is, this word is linked to individuals with special needs. So by saying that your friend is retarded when he does something stupid is like saying "You're acting like you have Down syndrome." or "Dude, you sound like you're autistic." And that is not alright.

 

I invite you to take a moment and think about your interactions with those who have special needs and how you felt, what you thought, when you were around them. Did you take pity? Think about how that person "will never be able to...fill in the blank" or did you look at them like you would any other person. Wonder what his/her hobbies are. Think about what job the person may have. Consider everything that person could or has accomplished in this life.

Naturally, we tend to look at them in pity. Look at their families in pity. But, do we consider that maybe pity is not what they're looking for, but acceptance?

 

Every person in this world has purpose and meaning. Maybe she has Down syndrome and has to work a little harder to learn something. So what?

Maybe he has Cerebral Palsy and drools and doesn't speak clearly.

Maybe he is autistic and doesn't always know how to communicate.

None of that changes purpose. Maybe if we took the time to look at these people as just that, people, like ourselves, we could see the wonder, magic, and possibility they bring to our world. Maybe we could see what they can teach us.

 

And THAT is why I hate the word retard or retarded... Because these people are not stupid. They learn differently, but that does not mean they are dumb and will amount to nothing. I will not use it in that way. I scold my friends and the children at work for using it.

 

I urge you to consider your words and how they affect others. Take the time to check out some blogs of families with members who have special needs to see that pity is not needed.

 

 

 

 

A Little Bit of Rain

It is 9:03. I should be doing math homework. Or studying psychology. Or...doing something more productive. But right now, nothing seems more soothing than writing. Writing whatever I think of just because I haven't in a long long time. (and here are some pictures from our girls' beach day)

This morning, the first thing I thought when I woke up was "I hope it rains today." I rolled over to see gray light through the slits in the blinds and smiled as I shifted to my back and stretched that beautiful shoulder cracking stretch that seems to pull my body into the state of action for the day. I have been pretty down this past week or so for various reasons. One reason being I have become so overwhlemed with my neverending overly predictable schedule. I get up and go to class (or, on Thursdays, tutor, then go to class) until I go to work which I don't get off of until 6. I come back to campus, eat dinner, do homework  (or avoid homework...) and try to go to bed as early as possible because by nighttime I'm beat. Add trying to dump this stupid college weight by working out nearly every evening (which hasn't been working...) and I'm going stir crazy by the weekend, craving a break, a good nap, one freaking cup of tea in a room by myself.

 At some point in the day, every day for the past two weeks, I've thought about how badly it sucks I have to work so much. That I have to work 10 hours a week so I can stay at this school that, while it is exactly where I need to be, is so far away from home it hurts sometimes. Because if I were home and this tired of this schedule, I could be healed by a good cuddle and tug of war game with my dog or a good target practice session with my pretty little revolver. Here, I've gotten so lost in routine, it seems like I have no outlet and no escape. I've lost the key to my own life and have managed to lock myself in. I think about how I wish I didn't have to work, that my dad could just give me money and I could comfortably float my way through college. I had begun to take my displeasure and hurt feelings out on my kids at work. I started to give up because I just didn't feel it. I was doing things, disciplining in ways that I told myself I would NEVER do. And it didn't weigh on my conscience because I was too distracted by this world of Me.

But today, I wished for rain. Because these past weeks have been so sunny while I've felt so dreary inside, and I knew that I had to turn my attitude around...negativity is no way to approach this life and these opportunities God has blessed me with, and rain would be the motivation to do just that. It's kind of like how every now and then you purposefully don't make your bed because it's more comfortable that way because it feels lived in. It isn't what you usually want. In fact, it's what you really don't want. But then one particularly stressful day, you rip the sheets into a mad wad, crawl within it and set up camp because it feels close and homey. And because it's a reminder that everything doesn't have to perfect. That when you get overwhelmed, you just have to accept that your room isn't always going to be spic and span. Occasionally (or, for me pretty much always) your clean laundry will sit in the hamper for a week of two (or 3...) and get all wrinkled because you don't have the time or motivation to put it away. That you might just have to make a B on a paper for the sake of your sanity.

So today, when I looked outside and saw the clouds and the blue-gray sky, I felt like I could conquor the world. Not only conquor it, but change it. And while I would have perferred to stay inside, watching movies and outlining my blue print for world peace, I went on to chapel, to class, and to work. I felt pleasantly uplifted and went into work grateful for the excitment the kids show when I walk through that door. Arms flinging open for hugs with gleeful cheers of "Miss Erin!" (I'm seriously not making this up...). I contained extra patience and somehow knew exactly how to explain things to the kids during homework time. I even disciplined more efficiently and put away the finger wagging (good grief...finger wagging? I want to slap myself for ever pulling that one out...) and got my message across. I even broke the rules and talked to the kids when they weren't supposed to be talking because I just wanted to hear what they had to say and took the rap when they were scolded.

And now, here I am, writing, and I feel worlds better. I do believe this will need to become a habit to keep my mind in the right place.

Sometimes, you get discouraged in life...but no matter why you are discouraged, you cannot let it take over or it will just grow bigger and bigger until it is uncontrolable. Kind of like that giant heartless at the end of the first level of Kingdom Hearts.

Ok. My rant is over. My world is sunny again, so the world itself is allowed to  be, too.

 

 

 

 

Signing out,
Erin