tiring pages,

Let it be known, I don’t really have to try for anything in my life. I live comfortably with my big family in my big house. Being the only girl out of six, my parents gave me all the attention I needed and spoiled me. I didn’t ask for much and they always gave it to me. It even frustrated me at times. I would be prepared to suffer because of my mistakes and follies, but they fixed it for me. It makes me mad. I hate when they make it sooo easy.

I’ve always gotten good grades. School comes very easy to me, as do most other skills. I’ve never had to work hard for that. People enjoy my company for some reason or another. A lot of them describe me as funny and/or cute and artistic. I hate that too. I’m not funny. I’m sarcastic and rude. I’m not cute, just stupid, and I hate that all they see me for is the doodles they’ve seen on the side of a notebook page.

I haven’t been happy in a very long time. When you have everything there isn’t anything to work for. I don’t like to be around people, but if I wanted to I’d just have to make a few calls and I could have a night on the town. It comes to bore me. That isn’t what I want. I don’t feel right if I don’t have a project going or some crazy idea for a webcomic running through my head. That’s not a problem for me either.

Long story short, I don’t have to try. Because I don’t have to try I never put any effort into anything. I don’t put effort into my clothing, I don’t clean my room, I do the minimum required of me, and I cut my hair short so I don’t have to deal with that either. I’m lazy and most of the time I don’t look very nice. I never take more responsibility than I have to. Or at least that WAS the case. Someone changed me.

All I’ve ever wanted, for as long as I could remember, was somebody to love. I didn’t think I’d ever get anybody and certainly not the someone that I did.

It’s really weird being in a relationship. Everything is different. It makes a person want to be happy all the time and nice to everyone. Having a significant other is, to me, the equivalent of shared electrons in chemical bonds. It’s exciting and there’s someone to share the negative (and the positive) with you.

I didn’t realize either of us had changed until someone pointed it out to me. My best friend, just as an off statement, happened to say “he’s changed since he’s been with you. He’s happier.” Looking at the bigger perspective she was right. He refused to smoke for my sake, he stopped swearing, he told me he was trying to become a decent person so that he could “be worthy of [me].” Little did I know, I was doing the same. I started waking up on time, brushing my hair in the morning, showering more often, cleaning, doing my chores. I didn’t realize I was doing all these things. I just knew that I wanted to try harder to be a good person and to be responsible.

I think in the end, he needed someone to care and I needed a reason to care. In a little bit of circular reasoning “We’re together because it makes sense, and it makes sense because we’re together.”

As an end all the someone that I love changed me in a way I couldn’t imagine.

 

I once had the pleasure of meeting a woman who rarely left her home. In fact, she didn’t want to leave her home. The woman I met was plagued with a disorder called agoraphobia,“an intense fear and anxiety of being in places where it is hard to escape, or where help might not be available.” (“Agoraphobia: Medlineplus”). It was easy to tell she was suffering. What hurt her most, though, was not being able to see her family. This woman was lonely.

It was physically obvious she was suffering, and that’s what left the biggest impression on me. She was confined to the walls of her home as a result of her disorder and could not enjoy the company of others. Loneliness itself is commonly felt among people. It often results as a side effect of a disorder such as agoraphobia or depression, but it doesn’t have to. Loneliness tends to stem from the isolation of one’s self or the feeling of being separated from others. Extreme loneliness can be caused by isolation or disorders and vice versa. In any case, study upon study upon study shows us that the effects isolation can be detrimental to our health.

There are so many paths that could lead to extreme loneliness and paths that follow after extreme loneliness. “Loneliness is a universal human emotion, yet it is both complex and unique to each individual,” Kendra Cherry, a psychology expert, says. The woman’s agoraphobia wasn’t caused by her loneliness, but rather her loneliness was caused by her agoraphobia.  “I had never ever been depressed, it’s why I could survive emotionally as a shut-in,” Kenny Erickson states in an article written about his story. This man shut himself in his home in the thoughts that no one would ever be able to understand him. He rarely left for five years. He eventually became lonely and depressed despite his supposed emotional strength. In reality it wasn’t his strength that kept him from becoming depressed for so long, but his lack of connections. When he realized he needed others is when he began to feel lonely and developed a disorder.

It isn’t healthy to be alone for that long. There are many risks that factor into isolation in all its different forms. In a study led by Donald Hebb, university students were isolated completely. Their senses were minimized, each and every one of them. The students participating in the study quickly became restless and highly emotional. The experiment ended quickly, much to the scientist’s disappointment, due to the alarming distress of the students. The effects in Hebb’s study are similar to the effects of isolation in real situations. The average mind quickly becomes restless when left without stimulation for long periods of time. Still, this is just one of the mental consequences of isolation. The physical effects of isolation and loneliness are numerous. Loneliness even breaks down the body’s defenses. Katharine Gammon, a Livescience contributor, highlights some of the more concerning effects. According to her, “[A person’s] immune system chooses to focus on bacteria rather than viral threats. Without the antiviral protection and the body’s antibodies produced against various ills, the result means a person has less ability to fight cancers and other illnesses.” This means that our bodies are so focused on our social stress, or lack of human interaction, that it’s shutting down some of its necessary functions. The body, in this form, is a danger to itself.

It’s important that we are aware of the effects of extreme loneliness and isolation so we can help ourselves if we are ever found in a bad situation. Some of the causes of depression, agoraphobia, loneliness, etc., are “social-cultural factors that encourage avoidant coping strategies” (Agoraphobia: All About Counseling), trauma, and just plain heartbreak. It’s important that we face our challenges and do not let them deteriorate into something that could be harmful to us. Having others around and having connections mitigates that sense of loneliness and need to isolate. “Researchers also find that people with strong social connections have less stress-related health problems, lower risk of mental illness, and faster recovery from trauma or illness.” (“Connecting” PBS). People like people and are happier when they keep a few around.

The woman I met was lonely. I could tell by her physical appearance. She was pale, thin, and closed off. Her body language told me that she was scared of the world, her words and deeds told me she wanted a change. This woman was fighting her agoraphobia, and though she may lapse, she keeps on trying. She may not have a happy ending yet, but she’s on her way to making one.

Works Cited

“Agoraphobia.” All About Counseling., Web. 11 Oct. 2015.

“Agoraphobia: MedlinePlus Medical Encyclopedia.” U.S National Library of Medicine. U.S. National Library of Medicine, Web. 11 Oct. 2015.

Cherry, Kendra. “Loneliness.” About Education.,Web. 11 Oct. 2015.

Erickson, Kenny. “I’m a Shut-In. This Is My Story.” Medium., 20 Feb. 2013. Web. 11 Oct. 2015.

It bothers me that people get so excited for a new year and a “new chapter.” They start making goals and say they’re going to have a fresh start. But this isn’t the case.

In my time I’ve found that January is the absolute worst month ever, and it doesn’t change over the years. January tends to leave me in the absolute worst mood, as well as those around me. It leaves me testy and lethargic. My self esteem is the lowest in January and I can’t seem to focus or get my mind wrapped around things. Trying is useless and doing is out of the question.

I think it may be some leftover angst that had been put aside in the spirit of Christmas, but the fact remains that it is absolutely awful.

Often in poetry and art emotions are depicted by certain types of weather, times of day, and colors. Rain, blue, sadness. Sunsets, red, love. Sunshine, yellow, joy. Spring, green, renewal. Cold, monochrome, angst. What I’m trying to say is a new start is probably not going to happen in the bitter winter at midnight. It doesn’t match up with the themes and certainly not with the feelings of the time.

The new year isn’t a fresh start. It’s not got the right atmosphere for such a thing. The new year is a time to reflect on the past and learn from our actions. It’s a time to take stock of what we have and where we are that we might prepare for a change come spring and the flowers will welcome us.

I’ve spent far too long trying to start anew in the bitter cold of my emotions. I think it’s best to wait for the ice to melt, and relish the warmer months of the soul.

As I’m taking the next step in my life I’ve found the transition incredibly difficult.

I like to think I’m making every effort to become responsible and care for myself.

Am I though?

Patterns aren’t producing the intended results.

As soon as I think I’ve finally got it together something happens.

There always seems to be a hidden trap around the corner.

There’s another pitfall after I’ve cleared the previous one.

It’s like swimming into the current.

A lot of thoughts run through my mind when faced with such an ordeal. The first being: Why did I decide to swim into the current if I knew it was going to be hard? The second: I can probably make it, just a little farther.

Maybe I should turn back and just flow with it.

That would certainly be easier, but it’s in the opposite direction of my destination.

I could ask for help.

I don’t want to give up in the fight against the current, or the fight to take control of my life.

But it hurts like hell. I try to remind myself that it’s alright. I can do it if I just work hard enough. But, I can’t help feeling totally helpless against the course. I worry that I won’t be able to do it and feel totally useless. I keep myself up at night fretting over my future and what action I should take next. I cry myself to sleep when I fail.

That’s the absolutely worst part. I’m so afraid of failing that I can’t bring myself to take a chance or to fight.

I want to keep going. I want to be able to take the next step with confidence and be alright when it goes wrong.

I want to be able to ask for help when I need it, and say that I can’t do it alone.

But I’m afraid. I’m so afraid to fail that I can’t even say it. I’m scared to ask, scared to disappoint all the people that are proud of my accomplishments and abilities.

I’m afraid of so many things and I can’t voice it to but blog with no following.

I’m almost there. I know it. I know that I just need to ask for help. But I’m scared I’m going to fail and let down those closest to me and most importantly, I’m scared I’m going to let down myself, and I just can’t take a risk for that fear.

I really enjoy writing. It’s one of my absolute favourite things to do. I love it when words flow together well and make something beautiful. Because I enjoy writing so much I chose to take a college composition class that was offered at my high school. This class has been absolutely amazing for me. There are habits in my writing that I didn’t know I had. Things like a tendency to forget commas, over-explaining, circular logic, floral language. Things that I wouldn’t have been able to detect by myself. I also have a theme that I follow I’ve noticed. I don’t have a very wide variety of genres so to speak. Now, this doesn’t apply to fictional writing. It’s a lot easier to branch out in fictional writing than it is when writing a research paper or something to that extent.

What I’m struggling with most right now, is personal interest in the content. I’ve been assigned to write a 1200+ word argumentative essay over a topic of my choosing. I love writing about the psychological and sociological aspect of things. I find the subjects intriguing. But I’m not in any way interested in arguing my point over one of these subjects. I like to think of myself as pretty chill. I don’t find reason to disagree with your opinion because honestly, I just don’t care. So for this essay I had to choose a topic from a list of topics given to us if we were unable to come up with one on our own.

I would have liked to write an essay about the importance of a neutral standpoint rather than that of a conservative or liberal, and maybe I will someday. But for now, there isn’t enough time or research on that topic for me to write an essay. So I chose to write about what the “selfie” tells us about ourselves. There are a few problems with this topic.

1. I don’t care.
2. It’s impossible to write entirely in the third person
3. I don’t care.
4. All the literature on this topic is art v. narcissism
5. I don’t care.
6. There’s not even a good standpoint I could have on this.
7. I don’t care.
8. Ima get roasted if I ever post it online
9. I don’t care
10. And finally, I DON’T CARE.

At this point I’ve done a lot of research on the psychology of selfies and come to the conclusion that I don’t care. In fact, the more I read about the topic the LESS I care. So here I will summarize everything I have found:

Selfies are not inherently bad for us and everyone takes them including the Pope. Nobody really cares about your selfies unless they say otherwise and you don’t need to get all worked up about it. Excessive selfies basically just tell us you’re either a friggin’ narcissist or incredibly insecure.

Too many selfies are annoying and unnecessary. Stop being annoying and unnecessary.

I’m OUT!

Age: 18 Day 6/365

Some things I learned this week:

• It is correct grammar to say theirself rather than themself when speaking in the singular.
• The room looks brighter when it’s clean.
• Headphones that work are positively fantastic.
• People are pleased by even the smallest of things
• How to be pretty.

I have spent the past week in an incredibly bad mood. I woke up early Monday morning and still managed to be late. I woke up early Tuesday morning and was late again. I woke up later Wednesday morning and was on time. I was then late Thursday and late Friday. I hate being late. I started using a new facial scrub for my acne and my skin broke out really bad. My room was an atrocious mess because I don’t have time to clean. I went to bed late all week because I was working on all my school work. I didn’t manage to get a shower in for a good three of those days because I had to work and someone insisted I went to their party.

All week I was in a terrible mood and looked like the most disgusting thing that’s come out of my basement yet. People kept asking me if I was alright. They didn’t talk to me much because I was testy and angry. I was all manner of things that nobody likes. I was the epitome of the word Ugly.

I realized I was bored. I was tired of my routine and not having time to do the things I like to do or talking to the people that I want to talk to. As a team my colorguard talked to the coach. We told her we needed time off to focus on our work. We got it. Come Thursday I didn’t have to teach middle schoolers the same thing I’ve been teaching them for weeks. I had time to practice piano as I needed. My lesson went incredibly well. That evening a mutual follower on a website I frequent asked for a partner to write a webcomic with. I got excited and jumped on the opportunity. I then spent the rest of my time talking to a very good friend. At that point everything was alright.

Thursday night I took a shower and slept very well. So well in fact that I overslept and was late Friday. I didn’t care. I was happy. I wore my favorite shirt and spent time with my family. My brother bought me a pair of headphones to replace my sad old white pair. I just generally had a good time.

I felt pretty that day. I like to stare at pretty people. The kind of person that looks nice and looks confident. The person that walks past and looks comfortable in their own skin. I tend to watch them. I don’t realize sometimes that I can be that person. Walking around Friday night I figured that out. I noticed the pretty people were staring at me and not the other way around. I happened to notice myself in the mirror and thought, “Woah. Since when am I this good looking?” Since I was happy.

Beauty, and good looks aren’t necessarily all about outward appearance. It definitely helps to be clean though. The concept rests in how you feel about yourself. I was ugly because I felt ugly. I was pretty because I felt pretty. The acne didn’t go away in just one night’s rest. But that one night’s rest helped me feel so much better about myself.

How to be pretty:

• Be clean
• Sleep as needed
• Get excited about something. Don’t just wallow in the same old routine. Have a project to focus your mind on.
• Wear clothes that make you happy and feel good.
• Talk to people that make you happy.
• Feel good about yourself.

That’s what I learned this week.

Post Script: This isn’t a guaranteed thing. It’s my thing. Also, all my favorite shirts happen to be plaid. I have enough plaid to wear everyday for over a week. It makes me happy.

Age: 18 Day 1/365

People like to think something about a person is different the day their birthday comes around. This does not hold true for myself. I do not, in fact, understand why people think something changes. Under normal circumstances you’re the same person that you were yesterday. Age is an arbitrary number that we use to define how long we have been on this earth. You can tell someone the exact same information in multiple ways. Today I am eighteen years old. Today I am 938.57142857 weeks old. Today I am 6,570 days old. It’s just a number.

Exactly 8 days previous to this one my friend had his (arbitrary number here) birthday. He told me that if felt “weird to be (arbitrary number).” I did not sympathize/empathize with the sentiment. I think I might have even told him that nothing changes on a birthday. I can’t remember, it was a week ago.

Well, my birthday started getting close and people started getting excited. What for? Everyone would ask me, “Hey! What do you want for your birthday?” I would answer, “I don’t know and I don’t care.” Because I don’t care about my birthday. At some point during the week I mentioned the date and from across the room someone yelled out “Two days till (my name)’s birthday!” The people around me were far more excited for my birthday than I was. Why is that?

So I thought about it. I thought about why people celebrate birthdays? Why do I celebrate my own birthday? I celebrate my birthday because it is a societal and a cultural norm, I want to eat cake, and I like being just a little bit selfish with good reason. So I expand that thought a little bit. Everyone wants to be a little bit selfish with good reason. Expand the thought even more. It’s nice to give someone a reason to be selfish and get cake while you’re at it. Then I jump to a new thought. Man, it sure is great I’ve managed to survive an arbitrary unit of measurement. Now it makes sense. Celebrating the fact that we’re still alive. Then now, that isn’t selfish. That’s grateful. So then shouldn’t birthdays be about gratitude towards the life we have been given and those that have helped us all through out the journey?

So now I understand why we celebrate birthdays. Nothing may change over a day but plenty changes over a year. Suddenly being a legal adult means more responsibility and a means of using all of those changes I’ve amassed since the day I was born 938.57142857 weeks ago. It sure is great to be alive.

Post Script: I do hope I did that math correctly.