Blog #4

(This is a blog for me to help vent, so please don’t be alarmed at the theme of this post as I am not asking for attention but just to be heard. I deal with my problems by being creative whether it is writing, doing artwork, and/or entertaining others)

I am sitting here right now wanting to write something of interest, but so far I’ve got nothing. They say whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but I don’t know about that anymore. I feel like what hasn’t killed me perhaps made me wiser, but I feel no stronger because of it. Some times I wonder if there is something wrong with me, but then I remember what kind of world we live in. Even with my mental health diagnoses, ED habits, and overall perception of the world I think I am a pretty normal person. With that being said I am so tired; I am mentally drained and am starting to feel hopeless. There are times where I get an overwhelming burst of happiness and positivity, and then the next second I am crying and I don’t even know why. This sporadic and unpredictable way of living is something I have grown accustomed to, and yet years later I still find myself struggling to get out of bed and live life.

I know my behavior affects those around me and the people I love. I am so used to bottling up emotions inside me that naturally I automatically repress them until I forget. Even if it’s for a little while. My memory is either fading or I am suffering a side effect of stress. I couldn’t of possibility grown stronger from what hasn’t killed me as I am living in fear of important things. I am terrified of getting the surgery I need because of how stressed I get. Hell very minor work was done and I had to stop before it nearly started because I started having a meltdown. Without dwelling on the subject too much I just want to point out it isn’t only those in the military that suffer PTSD, though it is very common for soldiers to get it. Anyone can get PTSD if put through enough trauma. Don’t worry, I won’t get upset at “triggered” jokes as things rarely insult me anymore and I have a sick sense of humor.

My only way to deal with this is to create things. I have lived my life making art in one form or another. I have taken singing and art related classes from elementary through high school. Even today I go to school for art because it is such a large part of who I am. I like to engage peoples minds and make them think about what is presented in front of them with artwork. I use the word art to generalize the many crafts I like to dabble in since there isn’t just one. I am so afraid that getting a degree in Game Art and Design won’t get me anywhere, not that just that the job isn’t in demand but the horrible school I got caught up with as well as not having time to build a portfolio for myself. Even when I get the time I wallow in self-doubt of my creative abilities.

Also, if I had to spend the rest of my life streaming like I have been I would do it no questions asked. My time on Twitch.tv so far has been an absolute blessing and I can’t believe the amazing individuals I have befriended. I want to touch people; I want to make them feel something from my streams and my work. I have been so inspired by so many people that if I had the chance to inspire someone I would do it all the time. I don’t exactly consider streaming an art form, but it is a good platform to do artistic things. But how can I inspire someone when I can’t even motivate myself to get out of bed?

Then there’s just living in general. Money hasn’t been a concern of mine for a while because of a blessing and a curse that happened to me, but one day my blessings will run out. Will the immense amount of college debt I acquire be worth the degree I will get?

Paragraphs later I am still sitting here almost in a daze of tunnel vision. What am I doing? What will come of me in months or years to come? Today I was reminded again of just how sudden life can be taken away from you. My heart aches at the very thought of it. My emotions have affected those I love, and to those it has affected know I am very sorry. My head isn’t always clear, my heart isn’t always strong, and my soul isn’t always with me. Just know that I still have some fight left.

 

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Smile

She hated her smile. Getting pictures or videos taken was always a nightmare. When she would look at herself the feeling of self-loathing was so strong that she would feel the familiar rush of tears flow from her eyes. To  make it worse someone she deemed very close to her made it a priority to be a constant reminder of how ugly her smile was.

“Look at that picture, your smile is so weird looking. You are so ugly. It must really be painful to be happy since every time you are happy you have to look at that hideous smile. Gross.”

The girl stared at herself in the mirror and analyzed all of her faults. She looked at her teeth and tried to practice ways to look more attractive while smiling. Everything about her made her unhappy, and she began to cry,

“Oh look you are crying again.” her friend said. “You can’t win can you? You are ugly when you are happy and when you are sad. Not to mention you are pretty chubby, what are you going to do about that?”

She didn’t answer, not because she didn’t want to, but because she didn’t have an answer. All her life she hated the way she looked and would often use makeup to cover her flaws. She would of loved to be able to mold herself into what she deemed beautiful, but her friends haunting voice echoed in her head. She has gotten braces to fix her smile, and yet her smile was still ugly. How disgusting she was, she had pale skin with a scar here and there as well as some extra pounds on her no matter how hard she exercised. Oh how she wished she could get rid of that hideous face and smile.

“Get rid of it huh? That’s too bad, there is no way you can ever get rid of it.”

“That is not true.” ringed a disembodied voice. “I can take your smile away if you really want me to.” The voice was muffled and inaudible, but somehow was still heard.  “You are so young, you have no idea what is important in life..”

Her friend looked at her once more and laughed, “You are going to regret this.”

Just like that, the voice made her smile disappear…

“Oh how disgusting! Look at you!” Her friend laughed at her. “Your wish has come true, you are without a smile and still as ugly as ever!” The girl looked at herself. What has happened? She looked like she has been through a battle with scars on her neck and no front teeth. She could not smile as she wasn’t physically able to.

“Blood, blood everywhere! You are a mess!”

Her head ached and she found it hard to breathe. It was very hot and she found herself feeling a rush of energy inside of her that couldn’t be executed physically no matter how hard she tried. She tried to scream but only made a whisper. “Help…” No one could hear her.

But as if her thoughts were heard from the heavens she was quickly rushed to safety. Who is that? She tried to gather her thoughts and saw a figure reaching out for her and used what energy she had to try and speak to no avail. It was as if angels have come down from the heavens to rescue her in her time of need. Before she lost consciousness she could faintly hear her friend say, “You are never going to see your mother again”, and drifted into darkness.

She was awoken by the angels who were examining her at the time. They must of taken her to a bed to rest and get better. She tried to take in her surroundings and what has previously happened but she was too tired. The overwhelming sense of pain and agony overcame her. What has happened? “Your smile was taken away” Her friend muttered. She used her tongue to try and touch where her front teeth would originally be. Her friend was right, there was nothing there but stitches and a disgusting taste in her mouth. She felt extraordinarily exhausted and delusional, and when her loved ones came to see her she was unable to speak. No matter how hard she tried her voice could not be heard and found herself drifting in and out of consciousness for hours on end.

One day instead of finding herself with the angels she found herself in her room. A week has gone by but it only felt like a day. What happened? She realized that getting out of bed took a considerable amount of energy but found enough strength to do it and slowly she walked to her mirror. What she saw was a complete and utter nightmare. Her face was very puffy and bruised and it appeared like she had two black eyes. She also had stitches not only in her mouth but under her eye and on her lip. What was also shocking was that it seemed like she lost a considerable amount of weight. Originally this would of pleased the girl, but she realized that the extreme weight loss left her weak and malnourished. Standing up made her feel sick and she quickly stumbled into her bed. The room span and she tried to close her eyes to make it all go away. She heard her friends voice echo in her mind, “You are so ugly”.

The images of what she just saw replayed over and over in her head as she found the strength yet again to walk back over to her mirror. She opened her mouth and saw that her teeth were indeed missing. She looked disgusting and sickly. The room span once more and she closed her eyes and gathered herself. When she opened them again instead of seeing her reflection in the mirror she saw her friend.

Her friend stared at her and grinned,

“I told you so..”

Be careful what you wish for

Do as you will…

Oh wow where the hell do I begin with this? It has been quite some time since I have bothered to write a blog, and I really feel as though I should do it more often. I suppose there just wasn’t much to write about, things haven’t really changed for me.

Panic attacks are still a thing, but they tend to come is bursts for a while and then disappear out of the blue. I have focused on trying to make my life as stress free as possible to avoid the attacks. I exercise regularly now and have lost some weight. I plan on uploading a body diary that I have been keeping once I reach the weight I am the happiest at. All in all, I am very happy with my life and the people in it. However I had a conversation with my fathers girlfriend today that really got under my skin, so now I am blogging about it for all of you to read.

While out at lunch, I brought up how I am really enjoying taking this animation class for school, and showed my father and his girlfriend the short animation I made. In the past, I have never been good at school or got good grades. I literally just barely graduated high school given I hardly did any school work. School was always very difficult for me growing up, I was bullied on a daily basis and had no friends. When I say I had no friends, I really mean I only had one friend in Junior High. I would sit with a group of girls at lunch only because there were no free tables where I can just sit alone since my one friend was in a different lunch, so I had to awkwardly sit with these girls who thought it was the weirdest thing I sat with them. They would ask me strange questions as if I was from another planet, it was really quite embarrassing and ridiculous. The teachers would bully me as well, but I won’t get into that here, my point is that school was a living hell for me. High School got better as with each year I matured slightly and took the bullying better. You can bet my parents were not happy with my grades, as any parent would feel confused and lost not knowing why their little girl rejected school. By senior year I got my act together and got to graduate with my class against all odds, and against what everyone originally had anticipated. I have developed a knack for proving people wrong over my short lifetime.

So when college rolled around, not including the shitty years I spent not knowing what I wanted to do in community college, I decided on a subject I grew up fascinated with, Game Art and Design, and of course a part of the curriculum includes animation. So when I made my first successful drawn animation, I beamed with excitement to show my father what it looked like. Seems like a typical thing to do right? Doing this led to a conversation that got deeply under my skin. My fathers girlfriend states something along the lines of, “What are you going to do when you get out? You need to hurry up and go make money!”. Harmless right? I thought so too, and even took it as a joke and responding with, “Trust me! I hate school and want to get done with it as soon as possible”. I believe that could of been the end of the conversation, but she goes on to make a point again saying, “Yes but where are you going to get a job? How are you going to make money?”. I was a little confused by that question because I thought the answer was very obvious, “I will get a job in the game design field, there are a lot of indie developers now-a-days and we are living in a generation filled with gamers and game developers”.

The conversation escalated and really aggravated me when she said, “You can rarely make money doing what you love to do”. Now it was clear she was really just trying to tell me how she felt about my career choice. “I mean where would you get a job doing THAT? You need to make MONEY”. I merely just responded with the only response I have for a question like that, “I couldn’t imagine doing anything else, and people can definitely make money doing what they love”. Quickly she responded, “No you can’t. No you can’t. You have to work for it”. So what I can’t work towards something I feel passionately about? I was taken aback by her comments, seeing as how I never speak to her and it was very strange she randomly spurts this at me. “What is life if you spend it completely miserable worrying about money?” I looked at my father, “You guys must have a very happy life then”, I replied sarcastically. He laughed and I pointed out he did not even agree with my comment and neither did his girlfriend, proving my point.

I have heard of people working at a job they despise only because it makes good money, but they are miserable and have virtually no life outside of work. This is what they like to do and that works for them. However, for me I could never spend the rest of my life living to work, working to live day in day out. I am a creative soul who likes to make things in order to entertain others, and I could not imagine doing anything else. With that being said, I wouldn’t go about judging how someone else lives their life if they are perfectly happy doing what they do. No I am not the brightest crayon in the box, I have never gotten straight A’s or won awards aside from getting a poem published, but I am happy and working towards a goal that I am very passionate about. I wanted to share something that made me feel proud of myself for something I did in school, something that was very rare for me, similar to a little girl showing her daddy a macaroni picture she made. Instead, my motives were questioned and left me with a sour taste in my mouth.

Even though that conversation happened, I will not change what I have been doing or how I have been living my life. I feel very strongly about my decisions and regret nothing. I am still reminded by things that have happened in my past because physically it is impossible for me to forget, and perhaps I should “forget it” and “get over it”, but I am me and I am dealing with it. I might be “slow”, “stupid”, or even “worthless”, but I plan on getting to where I want to be in my life, and if that isn’t enough for some people that is fine.

Don’t worry about me, you are just wasting your energy. Instead, live the life the way you intended to live it, and don’t let anyone influence you to live it any other way.

Lady

Update June 22nd 2014

Hello again!
The spring quarter has ended so I am officially on break! It is weird after having so much work that needed done a week ago to me doing nothing now. It seems odd now but it is sinking in that this is exactly what I’ve been needing. The past few weeks have put me under the kind of pressure I never knew I was capable of handling, but here I am.

So anyways, I plan on getting back to my regular hobbies, such as gaming and exercising in due time. I have been feeling exceptionally lazy the past few days but have still gotten some gaming in. Right now I am playing a game that I have been waiting forever for
, called “Murdered: Soul Suspect”,and plan on writing a review as soon as I beat it.

It is funny going to school for game art and design, then playing a game after you have learned the inner workings of how a video game is made. I hate to admit it but I hope that by turning a hobby into a career doesn’t eventually make me loathe gaming as a hobby. I would like to try and avoid becoming a cynical gaming critic, who acts like they deserve to tell game developers everything they did wrong and how horrible their existence is. I swear gamers can be the best fans one second and the worst the next.

Any who, I plan on being more active in the gaming, streaming, and blogging community. It really helps to converse with those who have a similar interest as I do. I have also been obsessing over DIY projects such as being able to make my own lotion, so I will more than likely blog about that as well. If I can figure out the best way to organize my blogs so the gamers don’t get forced to read through the DIY stuff and vice versa that would be cool.

Thanks for reading!!!

Blog #3

The weather has been throwing us some crappy curve balls lately, and I can’t help but wonder if the weather is a metaphor for our emotions. It sure seems like it lately, with all of the ups and downs and all arounds of my mental well-being from day to day.

When things are up, they are amazing beyond words, but when they are down instead of finding myself in a state of depression like I used to, I find myself rather confused and desperate to avoid all situations that induce stress, which are things that might not even be considered stressors to some. I am lucky to have an incredible support system in the form of an amazing man and a loyal best friend. Not to mention all of the other people who offer to lend me a hand on a day to day basis. Yes, overall I am very blessed indeed, however, you cannot have happiness without sadness(a quote I hold dear to my heart).

My mother and I aren’t always on the best of terms, though mothers and daughters aren’t usually, and it stresses me out. At times I feel like I have a large tumor attached to my hips that grows heavier and heaver. I hope I don’t regret saying that, for I love my mother very much. Though I dislike my uncle very very much, there was one thing we unfortunately have in common and it took a huge toll on his life. I must take this information with stride but still follow my heart with what I believe is right.

Blog #1: Sacrifices

Ah, it is quite awesome knowing that I am writing something without it being graded. I have been working on a lot of school work lately, but hey, can’t complain really. I mean who can complain when there is nothing wrong? I am making friends just like I planned. I am motivated to do school work. So what is the strange feeling I am feeling in the pit of my stomach?

Last year (2012) was the worst year of my entire life, even worse than my near death experience. My mom wasn’t doing too well and we had to live in my uncle’s basement, which was very kind of him. To make a long story short, the reason why it was so horrible was because he and his wife (my aunt) made us feel like complete shit. They looked down on us and would refuse to converse with us. There was always a quarrel between them and my mother, and I was in the middle of it all. Last year was the first time I have ever experienced a panic attack, and I literally think I was going to die.

If it wasn’t for the guy I was dating at the time, I would have lost my mind. His family was kind to me and had no problem with me staying over for the weekend. Any time away from my uncle’s house was a godsend. I eventually moved into a tiny apartment with my mother, who I shared the rent with. I was still dating the guy I was with, but his “knight in shining armor” appeal quickly dissipated before my eyes. I won’t go into details for privacy sake, but many arguments later I insisted we take a break. Trying to get to that point was one of the hardest decisions of my entire life. I was usually the one getting my heart repeatedly broken, how can I do it to someone else? It happened, and I still feel the sting as if it was still a relevant part of my life.

So why am I writing about this? Well I clearly stated previously that I like my blogs to be a diary of sorts, so I am just writing my emotions out right now. But I suppose if there was something I could give you from this experience, it would be don’t ever let a guilt like the guilt I feel for leaving the guy who made the worst time of my easier get to you. I feel guilt because I feel like I am leaving a part of my life behind, a part of my life that I was consumed in for so long. Hell, I don’t even feel like the same person, I feel like I did before I moved into my uncles. I feel free and young, happily hatching from my hard cocoon and spreading my wings into the young woman I am trying to become.

I am sure you have felt guilt where you feel like the bad guy, where you feel like you are sacrificing someone else’s happiness for your own. Well here is how I see it; you are living a countless amount of moments every second of the day, why spend one second unhappy? I know what I did, I could have possibly hurt someone so bad that they changed who they are, and I feel horrible about it. At the same time I am angry with myself, there is a line that must be drawn for self-respect’s sake. I deserve to live the way I want, why should there be any other way?

I am very curious to know what my few readers think. You need to be selfish to a point right?

Moments like these (title in progress): Part 1

Image

Have you ever met someone who you just knew was going to make a huge impact on your life? Someone who you know you will either love or hate, and will never forget? It are these people who can mold you into the person you are today, and change your outlook on life forever. My story is of a person who made the biggest impact on my life to date, someone I love and cherish and always will until the day I die. Someone who taught me that true love never dies, even if your loved one leaves you behind. Someone who shows you that love isn’t just a part of your mind, but a drug that flows through your veins that you can never quit. It is a physical and mental state you can never snap out of, you can never get over it. I am haunted by past memories of moments I know I can never experience again, and the echoes of our voices ringing through my mind as if he was speaking right into my ear. I let my heart find the emotions and my fingers find the words to retell a story of my past, of a man who deserves much more than the simple words I can write this story with.

It was cold and windy out as I waited at the bus stop up the street. Catching the bus on time was hit or miss, I was either too early or too late. The school year has just started and luckily I got to the building promptly. As I brushed golden strands out of my eyes, I peered up at the school, preparing myself for a positive year. School has never been something I have perceived as being a positive experience previously. My stomach felt that familiar sickening tickle of butterfly wings as I stepped into the building. It never mattered how many times the year started because each and every time I felt a sense of anxiety in my chest and I felt lost as if I have never been there before. Walking up the steps into the main hall I found it amazing how a place can hold so many emotions and memories that were both positive and negative, and despite that I knew this place officially had a part of me within it. I only felt a sense of comfort when I recognized familiar faces of those I consider friends and peers. I stared down the long hallway with eyeliner and mascara covered eyes that I used to cover up other imperfections rather than accentuate good physical features. There was no more time to gather myself, I had to find my class and get settled into my assigned seat. My first class was on the third floor of the building, but luckily I knew exactly where it was from having the same teacher previously for a similar class. I am not as good with names as I am with remembering situations that I use to recall people who I need to remember. My teacher was a very tall man, was blonde and looked fairly young with an over sense of confidence that for some reason irritated me. He used his power as a teacher and being young to pretend to be teaching a class we felt was worth our time. It wasn’t, none of it was ever worth our time but we had no choice. First day of school always goes the same with teacher introductions and then if I was unlucky I would have to get up and introduce myself. I never liked doing anything where I had to have everyone’s attention focused on me. Second class of the day was downstairs, only to get to the room and find out I had to go to the library. When I entered the library I was pleasantly surprised to see my friend was also in my class. She was a pretty girl who had a smile that I can remember as if I just saw her. It was as if the book to the story opened, and the first page was being written right then and there. I grasped the hand that promised me a memorable journey into what is worth living for, a start to an incredible story and life lesson.

He joined in my friend and I’s conversation with ease, and picked up that his name was Dave without much formal introduction. There was something truly different about this guy, he had a nonchalant but loving aura to him that drew me right to him. He stared into my eyes with such interest that I felt my face flush with a sense of embarrassment and shyness. It was as if I could feel his eyes dashing back and forth like the tip of a feather brushing my face gently. As the day went on with the continuation of classes, I found out that he was also in another class of mine, regardless of him being a grade above me. I am not one to judge, I am not the best student the world has ever seen and I know it. It wasn’t until after school where a relationship was truly formed. I am a fan of the social networking sites like most people, and made it a habit to sign into it rather than focus on school work. A habit that I found got easier to break as I matured and realized exactly how important school work is. I noticed I had a message from someone, and realized exactly who it was. It was him, he messaged me because maybe he thought I was attractive or funny? I couldn’t help but feel good about that being a possibility. We talked about our equal love of videogames, with a mention here and there about how much he loved my eyes. Just like any girl out there, I soaked up all of the attention and complements like a dry plant soaking up the water from the rain. I was lucky if I had someone pay attention to me, especially if it was a guy who was really nice, funny, cute, smart, and outgoing. We continued to talk every day, and it only got more involved from there. It got to the point of wanting me to come visit, which I had no quarrels with him about. He would always stare into my eyes, take his fingers and brush those blonde strands away from them, and called me a “blue eyed angel”. He would stare deeply into my eyes as if hypnotized, and say under his breath how beautiful he thought I was. No one has ever spoke that way to me, no one has ever looked at me as more than a mere object of lust and fun. When he looked at me his eyes saw under my skin into my soul, and I felt vulnerable. He took me into his arms and held me, I placed my arms around him, almost sure he could read my mind. Was it my expression that gave it away? Or was I blushing again? He leaned back so that his face was inches from mine, and gently our lips met. It was as if fate had been awakened, and my heart opened for the first time in my life.

Love was inevitable from there on out, and we often spent the hours after school together at his house, where we would play videogames until we found more interesting things to do. We did what any couple would do when in love, we kissed, cuddled, and gave ourselves to each other completely with no regrets. I distinctly remember laying with him one night, nothing but sheets to separate our flesh from one anothers, and laid my head on his chest. I will never forget how wonderful it was to hear his heart beating as he softly spoke to me. It was never anything specific, just “in the moment” conversation, and I may not be able to remember the words, but I remember the voice and tone in which he said them. I fell in love faster than an anvil would hit the ground after being pushed off a cliff, faster than a hummingbirds wings beat, and I couldn’t get enough.