Some Ramblings: Basic Week Synopsis

Tonight has been a good night.

Today has been an good day.

This week has been pretty good.

Save for the whole “withdraw effects from dropping medication” thing.

The whole changing appetite thing is not something I enjoy all that much.

Especially… just no.

I like to cook.

Fuck you stomach.

Anyway, I’m sure a lot of people are disappointed with tonights outcome for NCAA tourney.

Well, I certainly am.

Indiana (yesterday, I know) whom I had winning the dance, lost. More importantly, FGCU lost tonight.

The “Cinderella” did not find her shoe tonight.

Although this follows my bracket perfectly, I still would have loved to see FGCU win tonight.

My cousin plays for the girls team and we were “kinda” texting during it. More so- I was (drunk) and she texted me how she was sad once the game was done.

But seriously. We should have collaborated. I’m with the fucking Hawkeye Marching Band. I was with people in the damn band. We would have all cheered something had I told them to.


But seriously.

It should have happened.

Back to this week. Besides the excruciating pain coming from my left shoulder thus preventing me from practicing all that much, this week has been pretty great. My room is very organized, I’m going home on Sunday so I get to do what little laundry I have to do (still substantial,) and classes have been going well. I still have yet to drop Chemistry, but I’m not too worried about it. I just need one signature then to turn it in. I was planning on doing so today, but that obviously didn’t happen otherwise I wouldn’t be talking about it.

I’m just…. I can tell when I’m in that half-sober/half-not-sober phase.

My face is still a little… numb-ish, my stomach is most definitely not pleased with me, and my mind is working so much better yet so much worse at the same time.

Good in terms of basic cognitive function. Bad in terms of anxiety and my ordeal with myself.

My dad says not to call it depression because he doesn’t think it is.

Right now, he’s right. I don’t feel like I’m really depressed anymore.

If he knew everything that happened to me between the beginning of Fall semester and the beginning of this semester… I know he’d say otherwise.

Here’s something that I haven’t told anyone yet.

I want to start a campaign. 

Well, support/awareness group. I want to call it the “_____ Campaign”, (not naming on here for various reasons) but it’s something I’m very passionate about.

Everyone goes through trials with their identities, especially in college. I went through a huge crisis. I want to help those that have issues with it. Especially people with pre-existing mental disorders like myself. Anxiety, OCD, Depression, ADHD, and so many other things affect our youth today. These illnesses affect our daily lives and make us work around them. 

I’m tired of living like that.

I’m ready to take a stand.

My anxiety does not own me.

My anxiety is a part of me, but it is not who I am.

I can be defined in many different ways.

Focus on the positive. Focus on the good. Focus on what’s right.

I’m just so tired.

Until next time:


A Question of Love: Fight for Marriage Equality and the Hate Surrounding it

I am a liberal Catholic.

Quite opposite, as many know. 

I am a liberal Catholic.

I am someone who has also been struggling with my faith. 

I have gone through many trials in my past. As someone who has been so close to suicide, it’s hard for me to accept some of the basic principles I was taught as a child. I should love myself for I was created in God’s image. I should love all of those around me and treat them how I would want to be treated.

Today is a very important day in the United States and has prompted me to write on it. 

Today, men and women’s voices will be heard to promote gay rights and gay marriage. Equal rights for all.

Today makes me question my faith even more.

What do I believe in?

The Bible is riddled with contradicting statements everywhere. It’s incredibly inconsistent. This lenten season, I’ve taken to reading the Bible every day. I read the Old Testament in my free time and the New Testament for homework.

I was reading an article about a guy and his experience with Spiritual Abuse. It was extremely moving, especially to me, but there was something very profound he said towards the end. 

He talked about how someone he knew told him that God hates all of us. I think he said it was in the book of Revelations. The writer argued with this person, believing them to mean that God hates the sin and not the sinner. The other person corrected him. God hates the sinner and calls upon all of his other believers to hate the sinner as well.

This is very interesting. I find this very interesting. How many times is it preached in mass, private schools, and the New Testament that God loves each and every one of us? Then this one sentence in one book comes out and people cling to it.

This is what really gets me.

I went to a Catholic school (actually 2 different ones) for 13 years. I have been taking a class called Introduction to the New Testament at college for about half a semester. I think I have learned more in these past few months about Christ and Christianity than I had in those 13 years.

The first “New Testament” wasn’t fully assembled until 367 C.E., more than 300 years after the death of Jesus. Out of this New Testament, no two writings are exactly the same- whether it be one word or the majority of book. 

I remember my 7th grade religion teacher telling us that historians do know and believe that Jesus was a human and was on this earth. I remember thinking, ‘How is that supposed to make me believe that he was, though?’ I mean, it did reassure me for a while, but then I became like most of the other people in my school. We went to church because our parents made us or it was going on in school. We were told that we were required to go each week or we sinned by not observing the Sabbath. 

My family stopped.

The only reason we did when I was younger was because of my mom. My dad went along with it because he loved her. We were baptized and received our first communions because it was what she wanted for us to do. But even my mom struggled with her faith, apparently. I just found that out this weekend through my sister. 

And to think that our extended relatives on my mother’s side use her as blackmail for us to be good Catholics.

My mom didn’t fully believe until she had to. She believed when she was diagnosed with cancer because that was the only option of survival. She acknowledged that she wasn’t strong enough to fight the battle on her own. She died believing she would see us all again some day in heaven. That’s what would get her through the day when she knew she wasn’t going to live much longer. Believing that she wouldn’t be leaving us and she would still get to see us, know us, and love us in a better place helped her mind. At least, that’s how my sister put it.

I want to believe that she is and that she was right to believe. I want to believe it so much that it makes me tear up. It makes me hurt.

I don’t know though. I don’t doubt it all that much. But when my sister said that she believed because she had to, that made me question her a little.

I love my sister and she is one of the smartest people I know. She knew our mom better than I did. I was ignorant and don’t remember much of what happened when she was alive. But I also wonder if my sister added the last part to support her own beliefs. My sister identifies herself as more agnostic or even atheist now. I couldn’t handle the disappointment of our dad, not ever. He is my solid, highest being. I get mad at him for things, yes, but I know that if he wasn’t here today, I wouldn’t be either. Our mom was more of that to her than our dad. While her way of thinking isn’t as drastic as mine, I know the fear of not believing and thus disappointing our mom ways more heavily on her heart than it does mine. Of course, she’s independent to still think how she wants to, but it does create another burden.

It’s just, her knowing that our mom struggled with her faith and as she said “only believing when she had to” helps her cope with the fact that she doesn’t now and probably won’t ever again. 

I have to admit it helps me too. Maybe not as much, but it does. I mean, if I do believe, then I believe that some day I will be reunited with her. But if not, then what do I have to fear? Her memory? Why would I need to cope with something that ceases to exist thus eliminating the source of the fear? 

What am I supposed to do on this earth to live a fulfilled life? How am I supposed to honor the memory of my mother if I believe that she is forever gone?

By loving those around me and actively showing it.

This brings me to the internal affair in my mind right now.

I follow this group on Facebook– Catholic Memes. My friends at the center rave about how funny it is. I started following it shortly before the beginning of conclave. I really enjoyed the memes about the pope; it was all very exciting and a joyous occasion. A little after the election, I started seeing some of the real memes. I honestly didn’t understand some of them so I didn’t really care too much. I then saw one about a scientist that said something along the lines of a baby pig being more human than a fetus… I forgot how to science. 

I laughed a little bit– I’m a big fan of putting nouns in place of verbs. I then went through the comments.

Mistake…….. yikes.

I read so much hate. So much anger. So much frustration. Hate, anger, and frustration from both sides.

I can agree from both sides. 

While this scientist is probably correct- the baby pig is more developed and contains more similar DNA to humans than a fetus at a certain time- he is also incorrect. It doesn’t justify the taking of a human life. 

While the scientist is incorrect on trying to justify abortions in this way, the people against him are incorrect in saying he’s incorrect about his results.

Guys. He’s a scientist. If this article was posted in some scientific journal, then his results have gone through some extremely rigorous examination, critique, and editing by other scientists in the community. If it wasn’t posted in something scholarly, then have at him because who knows where he got his data from. But if it was, then be aware that this is a result based off of experimentation that has been looked over by many eyes. You’re not just attacking the individual, but the science community. Remember- science is what you turn to usually when you’re sick. Scientists know what they’re doing (most of the time.)

But all this hate. All of these Catholics, people of my faith community, attacking one another viciously.

Today, I have seen several equal signs on Facebook.

Today, I have seen several other signs from Catholic Memes. 

Today, I have seen a lot of love for the men and women fighting for marriage equality and people themselves fighting for it.

Today, I have seen a lot of hate for those people fighting for their equality and for homosexuals in general. 

The bible contradicts itself. How is that a reliable source? Somebody answer me. They aren’t the direct words of God, but rather of his followers from thousands of years ago, interpreted in different ways every time by billions of people from every corner of the globe from every age. 

But then again, I’m a contradiction as well. A liberal Catholic? 


Where is love here? What is love? People say love is God. Love is Jesus. Love is that special someone. Love is family.

Love is kindness. Love is fairness. Love is justice. Love is equality. Love is friendship. Love is romantic. Love is patient. 

It does not seek to hurt, but to mend.

Jesus sought not create peace, but division.

Is there a single right answer?


Life Happens

I would like to clear the air on something.

“Anxiety” or “Depression” disorders aren’t people “remaining strong for too long”.

It’s a chemical mishap in our brain.

It’s a chemical thing. It’s a part of us.

It always will and always will be.

I will admit that I am drunk right now.

But I cannot emphasize enough that people believe that depression and anxiety are things that “people just work through”.

Fuck that.

It’s not “just that”.

It’s a life changing experience.

I don’t know if ‘experience’ does it enough justice.

I just know that a lot of people suffer but only a few suffer enough that it interferes with their day-to-day lives.

I can’t believe I’m able to write this.

Tomorrow I will remember this because I can remember it now.

That’s the only way for me.

The only way.

That’s the only way I will remember this.

But this night is important.

I told someone important to me and few friends of mine part of my story.

Granted, it wasn’t good/full due to my lack of sobriety.

I’m sure he didn’t mind too much though.

I know I’ll tell him someday.

I trust him.

I trust him because my best friend does.

I know life never goes the way you want it to.

That’s why you have to take each person, each moment, and love it no matter what.

I truly would be okay if I never saw some people again.

But most, I have words.

I’m a person of many words.

I know I would say something to someone.

I know I would.

I know it.

I know.

I couldn’t.

I’m not good enough to for some.

I know it.

But it’ll have to suffice. It will.

Information. Saving people.

That’s all I’m meant to do.

Save lives.

Help people.

Make or give their lives a meaning.

It happens.

Life happens.

A Day of Nothing: A very short rambling today.

I am a sincerely bizarre person. 

This is a fact.

Sometimes my foreign friends think me to be drunk. Nope! Not tonight folks. Just super…. I don’t even know.

I didn’t party or anything this weekend. Or last weekend. Or… no I did the weekend before that. I think? Maybe? Yes…?

I really just need a smoke right now. Just weed though. I can’t do tobacco anymore. The smell, while sometimes I like it, now tends to make me nauseated. Too many drunk nights smoking with the guys and then ending that night with my head in the toilet. 

I would love to this Spring Break. That’d be nice to get stoned but not too high like last time I did. I was very… gone that night. 

I don’t know. I’m just…. very anxious this break.

Heart palpitations have been becoming more frequent for no reason. That’s just great.

Just. Great.

I just can’t right now.

I can’t anything.

I can’t function.

I’m so fucking awkward. 

I’m just going to go let my brain rot now. It’s… fulfilling?


I needed this day of nothing. 

Tomorrow- hello reality. Again.


You know those awkward moments when you get tipsy before everyone else, try to fit into a tight-knit group of girls, and then they start really partying once you’ve holed yourself up in your room with your pizza that’s making you fat.


If you don’t understand my life by now, get out.

But seriously.

Partially my fault.

But seriously.

I don’t know. I’m not really upset by it. It’s just really awkward. They’re all out there dancing and such. 30 minutes ago, I wanted to be partying. I kept going back and forth between a little bit drunk to feeling just sick to sobering up to drinking more and cycle repeat. Then I got sick of that feeling and realized that this “party” was going to continue as a small group of girls for the remainder of the night and I bailed.

The more awkward part: I was almost one of those girls, but I bailed before that happened.

It’s the female a capella group on campus. I got a call back. I was almost guaranteed a spot since I know the President, I have a good range and a decent voice, and I’m pretty damn good at sight singing. I didn’t have time though.

One of my roommates is in it and she asked us if it was okay for them to come over. I didn’t have a problem with it and I don’t right now either. I know this will die down and she’ll be considerate of the fact that I want to go to bed soon.

When I go back out there, that’ll be my cue to quiet it down and keep it cool for the remainder of the night. And I’m not in any rush or anything so not a big deal.

They’re singing. Whoop.

I just have to practice tomorrow. Yikes. I’m really far behind schedule. Seeing as I was short 2 days though… Still not good. Dr. Tse will be very disappointed in me.

I can’t focus on that though. Otherwise, bad things will happen. And I’ve been clean for at least a few weeks… ish. I can’t quite remember now how long. Maybe that’s a good thing though. That is a good thing. I know it is. I just need to focus on hating myself a little less each day.


I was going to say fat chance of that happening, but that’s not a very appropriate phrase here.

Or it’s too appropriate.

Okay, bad. Bad bad bad bad. I can’t. I just can’t.

I made the time shorter for my roommate to keep it quiet.

Or did I?

Naw… I told her at around 11:45 to keep it down in about an hour.

Then when I went out, I said in about 15 minutes.

That’s fair.

Very fair.

It wasn’t loud before.

Now they have the stereo turned up and they’re singing. Expected from a bunch of a capella girls. Can’t blame them at all.

But I wouldn’t mind if it was quieter at all.

Not at all.

But I’m such an introvert…. yeah.

I just can’t.

I don’t know how I did it in high school.

That’s a lie, I know how I did.

I just stayed at home and only went out when people told me about stuff. If people didn’t tell me, sometimes I’d be a little hurt, but I didn’t care that much really. I was always with the same group of people. People that I’d been around my entire life. School wasn’t that big of a deal for me. When I was dating someone, we’d hang out, just the two of us, and I liked that. No- I loved it. It was great. Watch movies. Fall asleep. Maybe have sex. It was great.

Now, I like that I go to a big college, don’t get me wrong. It’s hard living with people though.

It’s hard living in apartments.

I just want to live in a house.

Have a home.

Maybe a cat or a dog. Hopefully a man. While I’m enjoying college, the introvert inside of me is just… crying. Crying hard and heavy.

Maybe it’s just my heart. My heart is crying for some real companionship. It’s crying for something real.

My entire being is calling for something new. It just doesn’t know how to go about finding it.

Listening to 10 drunk girls singing loudly in my living room definitely isn’t it though.

I shouldn’t be as annoyed as I am, but I can’t help it. I just want to sleep. They have time though.

I will be fair. I will be just. I will be selfless.

I will not cry. I will not cut. I will not let my heart cry any louder.

I will be fair.

I need to be fair.

I can’t.

I can’t.

I just can’t be selfish anymore.

All I want to do is be rid of this.

I need my doctor.

Maybe I’ll read something. It’ll distract me. I could probably still fall asleep, granted all the noise going on. I’m tired enough and the remaining alcohol in my system is just making me tired. I’m just sad that I probably wasted some soda on tonight. Should have saved it.

Should have.

I should have.

I should have done a lot of things.

I’m just too stupid to.

I need to stop being so selfish.

Why do most of my sentences begin with “I” on this? I’ve noticed that. I try not to. Yet here I am, the word “I” so many times.


Somebody help me. Let me not be so awkward. Let me be alright with others. Let me accept things. Let me not be so uncomfortable around others, especially when they touch me (even in a friendly way.) Let me be me. Or better yet, let me be the person I crave to be. Please. Please. Please.

My only selfish plea- to let me be someone that others can be comfortable around because I’m comfortable around them. Let me lead by example. Let me help others. I just want to help other people.

I’m just too selfish to do so though.

Too Awkward to Function

Well, alright.

I’m a little annoyed at how loud my roommates’ movie is right now. It’s 11:00 on a school night. I can hear it loud and clear with ear buds in. That’s not okay. Especially since I asked them to turn it down. That didn’t really happen.

Enough complaining about them though. I honestly can’t wait to move out. In all honesty, I don’t do well living with other people. My personality and everything- it makes me nervous for next year. At least I know one of my roommates is very considerate about that stuff though. Nicole is very conscious about those things. Emily… well, I can’t judge too soon, but when she was over here once and my roommates were watching a movie, she didn’t think to talk softly even after I reminded her that they were watching a movie. Who knows. I have a very good feeling about living with Nicole. Emily is very cool too, I just think too much.

But probably for my senior year I will get a studio or something. Or just live with one other person I know is quiet and considerate. That’s all I ask for. Although I feel like me drunk on the weekends will ruin that. I tend to ruin nice things.

I’m really too awkward to function. I can’t even have normal conversation with people. People that I know are my friends. I hate it. I hate this anxiety. It was manageable for my performance today, but afterwards…. I became a mumbling vegetable.

I also feel as if some of my “friendships” are more parasitic. Probably my fault. I can’t help but be angry and awkward most of the time. My anxiety runs so damned high, I lose myself.

This is why I’m medicated. This is why I’m an idiot for taking myself off the Zoloft. A big idiot.

Other than today, I’m concerned for the future. I’m getting things that need to be done completed which is a good thing. I need to call my old job and ask for my W-2. Woot. Taxes.

I don’t think I’ll have to file. I might have if I had claimed all my tips like I was supposed to. None of us ever do though. We make about 2 or 3 times what we claim most of the time. Now most of that money is gone and I’m trying to find a new job. Great fun.

I’m just getting this horrible feeling of wanting to shell back up again though. I’ve been way too extroverted the past 2 weeks and I don’t like it. This summer was wonderful. Nice weather, nice job, nice place- I would wake up early, go for a run/do some work out, shower, watch some Netflix/browse internet, go to work, go to bed, start it over again. Some days were different- like when they started putting me on the day shifts. But some weekends I’d go home and just hang out with my dad for a couple of days. Every now and then I’d go shopping with some girl friends from high school. Maybe have a card/game night with my guy friends. It was so relaxed. Didn’t have to worry about too much, mainly work.

While I enjoy the fact of going to a large school, I don’t like how big it is and how I know so many people. It makes me feel obligated to go out and be social. I’d much rather sit in my room all day.

People ask me if I’m such an introvert, how I can handle waitressing. It’s not easy, but it gives me a good balance of seeing people to not seeing people. I also loved the weather. I miss that.

I don’t like this wintery crap. And joy- we’re about to get another 4-6 inches of snow tomorrow.

It’s March. In like a lion, out like a lamb though I guess.

I’m just getting tired. Very tired of this routine that isn’t set nor relaxed. There’s always something I have to do or worry about. But I have time- albeit not a lot, but some. I just need a good reminder for why I keep doing this.

A very good reminder.

Right now, all I’m seeing is how many guys are unavailable, unattractive, or out of my league, piles of homework, papers, projects, reading, hours of practicing, weight gain, severe anxiety, people I don’t feel like I can talk to, cold weather with snow that blinds me, and little/crappy sleep.

When does it get better?

I need someone. Someone I’m not afraid to be myself with. Someone to accept me- all my faults, all my shortcomings, all my weirdness. Someone to remind me why I’m here. Just a really good friend.

No matter who right now- I’m either too awkward, they’re too awkward, they don’t accept me for who I am, or I’m afraid. I’m scared.

I’m scared for what’s to come.

For what may come.

I’m too awkward to function.


I’m trying really hard right now.

I’m trying really hard to not do some things.

This week has been…

It’s beyond my basic comprehension. 

I had several panic attacks Sunday-Tuesday. Wednesday I think I worked myself up to much that I had reached a pure level of apathy. That is an extremely bad thing so my doctors tell me. Oops. 

I’ve been pushed over a lot of lines. I’ve lost all sense of organization. I still haven’t hung up my laundry from when I went home last weekend.

It just bothers me really.

I still don’t feel like I’ve crossed the line yet, which part of me feels is good. Another part of me just can’t help but wonder if I have a limit. Everyone does. Where’s my limit? What will happen if it’s ever reached?

I don’t think I should think like that though. I’m sure my psychiatrist would scold me. Surely it would mean I’d be sitting in a hospital bed.

I have found something else out.

Good thing I was having doubts on this one guy. He’s already got a girlfriend. I hate though that only recently someone decided to tell me after I told people that I found him attractive. And that they talked behind my back about it instead of just telling me. One of them finally did, in a rather round about way, but they did. I appreciate that, but it just makes me feel foolish. 

Maybe I only told them when I was too drunk to really comprehend anything though. I don’t really remember who I told or how people found out about things. A lot of things. 

The fact that people are talking about me scares me though. More so that I’m not sure what it is about me that they’re discussing. 

Is it my personal failures? Is it my recent epiphany on my future? Is it my love life?

My love life is just embarrassing, so I hope it isn’t that.

$10 says it is though.


It makes me want to shell up. I want to stay in. Home. Not go out in the world. 

I don’t want people to know things about me anymore.

But I want it to be available to them.

That is so twisted and it makes absolutely no sense. 

I guess I just don’t want to spread without people having the original source. 

I would love it if people I knew read this. Or even people I didn’t know. Although, I don’t understand why anyone who doesn’t know me would want to read this. 

Even the people that know me.

It’s so private, it’s public. 

I haven’t taken Zoloft. I haven’t taken it in a long time.

I want to take it just to see if it will help, but I don’t want to at the same time.

It made me feel so unlike myself. It’s so strong of a drug, I forget who I am. I act more strangely. I feel so… out of body. Out of mind. Nothing really makes sense. 

Maybe I’ll try something new right before break. I should tell my doctor this. I should also go to counseling… my doc’s been bugging me about it every time I see her.

I don’t want to open up to more strange people though. I don’t even tell her everything. I don’t tell her a lot of things. I lie to her a lot. It’s been getting better without “being” on the meds. I’m a horrible creature.

If I am ever completely honest with someone…. I hope it’s a person I can spend the rest of my life with. Whether it be a friend, relative, or spouse, I want them there all the time. I would prefer it to be my *hopeful* future husband, but who knows. Chances are…. split with that one. Part of me believes yes, who else would I marry if they didn’t know my deepest secrets? Part of me believes no, for who would want to marry me with my weirdness?

I’m so tired. So tired.

I shall continue this later.

It’s incomplete, like myself.