The Month of May

I used to think it was all behind me. I truly thought that, but something recently has been telling me that maybe it’s not.

I’m no longer skinny. I’m no longer underweight. I don’t weigh eighty-something pounds anymore. My heart isn’t in critical condition like it was. I no longer refuse to eat. I no longer have an eating disorder. The physical parts are gone, but some of the mental parts have stayed. No, I no longer cry before every meal,  have multiple panic attacks daily, or slit my wrists. I no longer do any of those things, but sometimes I feel like I’m trapped in the days that I did.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m so much better than I was. So, so, so much better than I was. I guess what I’m trying to say is: yes I’m better, but no, I’m not perfect.

I’ve been stressed studying for finals lately, so I decided that skipping lunch would give me more time to study. There’s nothing wrong with this; its normal to skip meals time to time. What made me know something was up came later. I wasn’t skipping meals to lose weight or get skinner, it was for another reason. When I would skip lunch, my stomach would begin to gnaw and churn after a while. I like the feeling because it tells me that nothing is in my stomach, that my stomach is empty… I like it because the feeling of hunger distracts me from the emptiness I feel almost every single day.

Certain things give me flashbacks of what I went through, almost like PTSD in a way. For example, when my father buys a certain brand of sliced turkey. One day, my father had gone to the store. I asked him to buy a specific type of turkey, the turkey with 50 calories per two ounces. When he came back, he had bought a type which had 52 calories. I began to cry, my frail and bony body collapsed and my mother lunged to the floor where I lay, just as scared as I was, and tried to get me up. I wouldn’t move. I just stayed there. I just stayed on the floor sobbing and mumbling the words “I don’t want to live anymore” over and over again. My mom held her thirteen-year-old and dying daughter in her hands. She picked me up carefully and carried me to my bed, where she laid with me and we cried in unison… all of this over turkey. Now, whenever I see this brand of turkey in the fridge, its like that day fills my mind, takes over me, and haunts me. It’s different though, I’m not the girl on the floor anymore. I am a ghost watching in the corner, unable to do anything as I watch my mom and I suffer. As much as I try to reach out to myself and say “i’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” I can’t. As much as I try to get the memory to stop looping in my mind, it continues to replay and replay with more and more detail every loop.  Just like the turkey, there are many more symbols equated with awful memories from my eating disorder. Natural Cafe,the white tank top on the bottom of my dresser,Pressed Juicery, my birthday, King’s Hawaiian Rolls, string cheese, buzz-cuts, and safety pins are just some of the items tied with memories even worse than the one above. Memories that I try to keep locked away for a reason.

I like to pretend like it’s behind me, but deep down I know it’s not. I honestly don’t think it will ever be. I’m not saying that I am in danger in any way shape or form if going back to how I used to be. All I am saying is (in honor of mental health awareness month) it’s okay to not be 100% okay.

Photo Credit: RSS-insurance.com

 

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Time and Time Again

You build me up, take me, and use me then leave me to fall apart. But, the saddest part is that I let you do it time and time again.

Deep down, I think you know that I love you. I think you deny it though, thinking that I don’t love you makes it easier for you.

Easier to text me and tell me you want to spend time with me, then completely shut me out once you’re satisfied.

Sometimes you don’t even go, though. You text me again to bail out and it hurts more than being played, because, at least when you play me, I get to spend time with you. I get to be close to you and I get to feel like you might actually care about me.

You’re not the only guy that does this. I reach out to others to try and forget you. They play me too, but it’s different than what you do. They tell me I’m beautiful, pretend to actually care, send me hearts over text, tell me they love me, then they shut me out.

You just shut me out after you use me, you don’t pretend to genuinely like me. That should make it easier, but it makes its harder.

I see you around school five days a week. Sometimes I feel like I’m invisible to you, sometimes you talk to me and we act as close friends, than somedays I feel like you purposely avoid me. I’m probably overthinking this though, I doubt I matter enough to you for you to even ignore me.

I know this is bad, but its gotten to the point that I’ve been hurt so much that I talk to multiple people at once, so that when one guy bails, there is still another one that I think cares about me.

Every time another guy plays me, it hurts. It hurts a lot. I cry… I cry for hours. Every time I think someone might genuinely like me, but then they tear me apart and cast me out, just like you do.

Every time another guy plays me, it hurts. It hurts a lot, but at least I’m not thinking about you. Thinking about you hurts even more. I know I’ll get over the other guy in a couple weeks or months depending on how much I cared, but I know no matter how many days, weeks months, years, I’ll never get over you.

I’m not an object. I’m not disposable. You cant just throw me away when you’re done. I’m not a piece of paper you can crumple up and throw away when you’re finished.

I hate what you do to me. I hate even more that I let you. And I hate the most that I’m standing here waiting, hoping, yearning for you to text me again.

 

Photo Credit: Time Magazine

Interstellar

I like space and planets and the stars. It amazes me and it’s its nice to know that there are some things that no one understands. I think it’s humbling in a way.

I get caught up in my own life; my problems seem so big and overwhelming. When I’m trapped focusing on my life, I forget that I am one person out of eight billion. I forget how small I really am.

It bothers me so much seeing people who think they are better than everyone: better than other people, better than animals, better than everything. People destroy nature, kill animals, and hurt others all because they think they can. They think that they’re above everything.

I wish I could tell them. I wish they could just understand that they are just one letter in a thousand page essay, one raindrop in a ten hour storm, one frame in a five hour documentary, one out of 8 billion tiny insignificant people.

The stars are a good reminder. As big as you think you are, as big as you think your problems are, there is always something bigger.

 

Photo Credit: Festim Kelmendi

Runs Like This

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

School was hard today; long homework assignments on top of essays on top of tests on top of projects and, to make my day more stressful, I spent hours anxious and worried about fears in my head. To top it off, I skipped lunch to try and end a relationship with a boy without hurting his feelings, but it made the situation worse.  By my last class period, my brain was throbbing wanting to explode and my anxiety was through the roof.

I wanted to lay in bed and cry, but I thought of a semicolon and put on my running clothes.

This is where my day started to change.

I asked an amazing girl if she wanted to run with me, I knew she had to run today anyway because she is training for a half marathon, so I thought we could run together.

She said yes and we set off for a five mile run.

After about two hundred feet, a sharp pain in my calf that I get often when I run started to scream inside my leg. My negative mind set began to kick in. I’m going to slow her down… This run is going to suck. You’re not going to be able to do this. You’re such a slow runner. This is why your coach isn’t proud of you. This is why you won’t make it to CIF. 

Luckily, I made an amazing decision: I took a deep breath, cast out the negative voices,  and just kept running.

My running parter and I talked about school and life and running. We talked until we both fell silent as we slipped under the spell of running: our movements connected directly to our breath, the pain became a faint feeling instead of an all-encompassing sensation, our foot steps made a clip-clop clip-clop rhythm. Our breathing was all our mind focused on and we became encompassed in the aura of running.

Breath in, step step, breath out, step step, breath in, step step, breath out, step step…

My breathing was like a conductor and my footsteps were the orchestra.

I usually run alone and it’s crazy how much running with other people can change your running experience. Even when we weren’t talking, I felt like my running partner was there for me. If I fell, she would catch me. If I needed to slow down, she would stay with me. If I wanted to run ten more miles, she would run with me and I hope she knows that I would do the exact same for her. If you are reading this right now, I hope you know how grateful I am to run with you.

When you’re in the zen of running, you go with the flow, you are supportive of your peers, and you are supportive of yourself. This is how I was today.

My legs felt strong, my mind felt clear. I was next to an amazing girl, surrounded by beautiful scenery. I was happy.

Once we got to our destination, we bought drinks, smiled, laughed, talked, and stretched out our aching muscles.

Running is an unpredictable sport. Somedays you’ll run a mile and your legs will feel like lead. You’ll be miserable, in pain, and want to stop. Other days, you’ll run ten miles and feel amazing, like you could keep going forever.

On bad running days, your brain will say “stop running,” your body will say “stop running,” but you need to find it in your heart to say “keep running.”

Runs like today are the reason my heart says “keep running.”

After bad workouts, bad races, and times where I want to quit, I will think back to the run I did today and think: “Runs like that are why I love running.”

Warr;or

I think semicolons are beautiful.

The definition of a semicolon is a punctuation mark indicating a pause between two main clauses.

Semicolons are useful in writing and are taught in English class, but, to me, they are much more than a punctuation mark.

A semicolon is a moment where a writer could have stopped, but they decided to continue on.

I am the writer and life is the sentence. I write a semicolon because I could end, but I will choose to keep on going.

I have struggled in the past with self harm and this metaphor helped guide me through it and become the happy and healthy person I am today. Although I no longer struggle with the impulses to end my life, the semicolon metaphor still applies to me more than ever. The semicolon is most commonly equated to mental health, suicide, and depression. To me, this symbol can be applied to everything.

In life ,I strive to be the best I can. The best athlete I can be, the best student I can be, the best person I can be, the best friend I can be.

When I’m on a run and want to stop, I picture a semicolon. I have the power to stop, but I have the power to keep on going. I will keep on going.

When I see a person who is sad, I picture a semicolon. I could just keep walking, but I can help them. I will help them.

When debating between taking the easiest route or the route that is harder but strengthens you as a person, think of a semicolon and always remember:

You are the writer and life is your sentence. Embody the meanings of a semicolon and keep on striving forward.

 

Photo Credit: Dictionary.com

My Future

I’m really confused about how my life is going to go in the future. I know what I want to, I’m just not sure how I’m going to do it.

My plan was to go either UCSB, Stanford, USC, or a college in Australia to study Marine Biology and/ or Environmental Science. I would then go to law school and become an environmental lawyer. At college, I would swim and play water polo.

Well, now I’m really in to running. I love triathlons too. I know I’m going to play sports in college, but which ones?

Recently I’ve been thinking about become a humane officer. It pains me to know that so many animals are suffering and abused. I want to dedicate my life to stopping the cruelty that takes place everyday.  I want to do this, but there are some issues.

A humane officer makes 32,000 dollars annually. I don’t have millions of dollars in family money, I don’t have a billion dollars in my bank account, and I want to stay in California. I’m afraid 32,000 dollars would not be enough to have a home, a car, and eventually kids.

So, my plan is now to stick with being an environmental lawyer. I still really want to be a humane officer though…

Again, on the topic of money, I realized that I’m not going to have enough money to go to any of the colleges I want to go to. I could go to junior college. It would save a lot of money and I can save up for my next two years at a university.

I also want to take a gap year and go to the Peace Corps…

Will I go straight to a four year school? I wonder where I’m going to live after college? What college am I going to go to? What law school will I go to? Will I still want to be a lawyer, or will my opinions change? What sports will I play? Will I have a boyfriend? Will I get married? Am I going to have kids? When will I retire? Will I become a humane officer?

I don’t know, honestly. But maybe in thirty years, I’ll come back to this post and reflect on everything I did or didn’t do.

Photo Credit: Pinterest

a sad kind of happy

it’s a sad kind of happy when i’m with you. i love being around you, you make me smile and laugh. you make me happy.

in all honesty, i think i love you. i really think i do.

we’re friends, we talk, we hang out sometimes. i like that.

photo credit: pinning.com

sometimes you confuse me, though. sometimes i’ll think you feel the same way about me, but then you’ll ignore me the next day.

in all honesty, you’re confusing, so confusing.

but, that’s part of who you are.

i try to understand you, because there’s so much to understand. you’re talented in so many things, but you doubt yourself. you are loved by so many people, but you deny it. you say no one likes you, but you know that i’m here.

i’m here sitting by you right now. you’re looking out the window. we’re listening to music on your phone. i have the left ear bud, you have the right.

i’m happy right now, i’m with you, but it’s a sad kind of happy

we’re listening to love songs. sometimes, i pretend that the songs are a message. i pretend the songs are you telling me you love me…. but we both know that’s not true.

we both know it will never will be true.

i love being around you because i love you.

but you never will.

that’s why it’s a sad kind of happy…