New Shirts Make Good Friends

There are two pieces of college advice that I would recommend anyone listen to above everything else: don’t bring any t-shirts and don’t worry about what everyone else is doing.

For that first one, I can testify that I have gotten around 13 new t-shirts within the first two weeks of school. You really do not need to bring a single t-shirt as they will fill up one of the precious dressers drawers the university has given you to use. So save yourself the folding and just leave your soccer tournament t-shirt from 2019 at home.

The second piece of advice is layered but has the same end meaning. The first week of college, hell, the first couple of weeks are a little painful. I felt extremely alone and isolated as I tried to form bonds with the other first year students that surrounded me. The worst part is that you know everyone feels the exact same way. Everyone has the sting of loneliness on their skin and hides it incredibly well. Paper thin walls remind you that you’re alone in your dorm as laughter rings between them. The sounds of people getting along and getting to know each other burn themselves into the back of your mind as you struggle to maintain connection with the person you met in the elevator two days ago. You do everything everyone tells you to do, you eat in public spaces and you ask everyone for their snap and you reach out, but it feels so forced and it feels so superficial. Like you are carving friendships into diamond and the pick just keeps snapping the second you feel like you’ve made any progress.

I met a group of people in my major and they all appeared to know each other for years as they talked and joked with one another. I felt so out of place and yet like I had found people. I haven’t spoken to most of them since that one day they invited me to play cards. Maybe I should’ve put in more effort, is it too late? I can’t tell anymore.

I have always been secure in doing things alone, but I was never really surrounded by people who were always with someone, doing something, to make me feel like I was actually missing out. I’ve never felt the pressure to socialize until now and it pains me a little more than I care to admit. But I digress. I am fighting the need to show off my good time when I get the chance to have one and I am learning to find peace in my solitude again. I never thought I’d have to do that but nothing is ever as simple as that.

At least I have 13 new t-shirts to fold to occupy my time.

Validation

I cling to every compliment like a baby koala clutches it’s mother. I carry them with me in every moment, riding the high each one gives me until I latch onto the next. My inability to shake this dependence upon validation has given me a self-esteem of zero, if you can even place esteem on a scale.

Most days are layered with an indescribable feeling of emptiness and longing. A craving for confirmation that I am not whatever lies at the bottom of the barrel overwhelms me and I go out of my way to gain that moment of euphoria that floods my ego in unhealthy ways. It’s probably not a healthy habit to rely on, doing anything to get a little bit of attention from anyone. Yet here I am, unscathed and safe. So it can't be that bad right?

Right?

Even I can’t convince myself of that. The rationale needed to justify my actions is nonexistent and I’m grasping again. Reaching for something that’s not there and trying to attain the unattainable. But it’s fine, I’m fine. Really. At the end of the day I am okay, content, neither good nor bad. Which is fine, I can live with that, for now at least.

But that high from an unexpected expression of validation is all I think about. I want to stay on that high horse of narcissism that makes me sound self absorbed and a little like a prick. Because in those moments I feel like my skin fits me, like I’m actually living my own life. I feel conscious and alive. I wonder how long I can ride the next wave of confidence because this last one barely carried me through one night.

One Month

Saturday marked four weeks since I moved into my dorm and entered the next chapter of my life. I can’t tell if it feels like it’s been a month or if it feels longer or even shorter. Either way I have yet to find my routine, my perfect balance.

I keep telling myself that I have found a good system and I haven’t burnt out yet or fallen behind so it’s not like it isn’t working. I just feel like I’m going through the motions and as each day goes by I lose a little bit of myself in the autonomy of it all.

I eat a sandwich and it feels like this is all my life has ever been, this one moment in time of eating this sandwich. And just as that moment began when I took my first bite, it’s over and I’m floating in a limbo between notable moments. Is that what life is? Just waiting for the next thing and hoping it brings you an ounce of feeling that reminds you that you’re conscious? Maybe, or maybe I feel this way cause I’ve only taken my meds twice while I’ve been here. That little pill bottle tucked away in the top drawer of my dresser is a reminder that I am battling two new life shifts at once. Maybe I’m just trying to ignore that part as I’ve done over and over again in hopes that this time I can successfully forget it out of existence. But I can’t and I won’t and I’ll just fall back into good habits only to fall out of them once more.

It’s strange. Knowing that I am on my own, living the life I have wanted for ages and yet I long for more. For something different. It’s almost as if I can’t allow myself to be content because then that means if I’m unsatisfied with how my life is, I am stuck there. I’m sure that makes no sense and I’ll read this back one day and cringe at the useless meaning I was trying to find while sitting in the smoothie shop I’ve grown too attached to. Either way I am floating in an abyss. Floating in a period of greatness and inferiority. A period of time that makes me feel like I’m thriving, unstoppable and yet weighed down by the discomfort of insecurity.

Four weeks and I can’t tell how far I’ve gone, if I even have. One month down and only eight more to go.

New

I recently found out that I am bipolar. A little while ago, my therapist prompted the idea that I could be bipolar and from there my doctor confirmed it and now I am working towards a more specific diagnosis. Either way, I am bipolar.

This new explanation for why I think and act the way I do has knocked me off my feet more than anything else. Not just because it is something I will spend the rest of my life coping with, OCD has warmed me up to that idea already, but because it feels so much more intense. That’s definitely not the right explanation of it, and it might just be my own stigma that I need to confront, but bipolar makes me feel insane.

At least anxiety and panic and depression have mini “normal” counterparts. They aren’t the same. but there is a bit of them that is grounded in normal behavior and thinking. They’re just inflated versions of something that is already there, to an extent, and I think I’ve been holding on to that idea to avoid what I fear is now true. That I am crazy. I am broken beyond the romanticized version of my mind that is splayed out in the world. I think I’ve been using the false connotations of what I am as a crutch to avoid facing the fact that I am not normal, but now I have a new thing that’s wrong with me and I can’t distract myself from what is reality.

I think that with OCD I felt it a little bit, but I shoved it down in my subconscious to avoid it and bipolar has just released it from its cage. Having these more specific and less “normal” illnesses makes the gap between me and a normal life feel bigger and bigger, to the point where it is no longer attainable. I knew that OCD would be a forever thing but now I have more forever things and every day forever feels longer and longer.

I know I’m not alone in feeling this way, hopeless in the face of the truth, and yet I feel so detached and alone on this journey I am on forever. Support groups aren’t as easy to come across as I hoped they would be, no one really has an AA for the mentally ill, at least one that doesn’t come with a hospital stay or a heavy fee. No one really talks about the life of an 18-year-old who has to take 20 pills a day just to feel a fraction of what a normal person feels. My mental illnesses are who I am, they don’t define me, but they are me. I am them, and I just wish I could talk to one other person who understands what that really means.

So yeah, I am bipolar, and clearly am struggling to accept that and what it really means for me. I hope that if anyone else who feels as I do finds this and knows that there is someone else who understands. Healing and getting better isn’t easy and I know and understand that, I just wish that I didn’t have to.

Unstable

I am unstable. Medically, mentally, certified.

There are things that you know and are aware of, but never really dwell on because you’re in denial. By avoiding the topic altogether, you can pretend it’s not real and therefore don’t have to subject yourself to the cruel reality that is your life. But that doesn’t last long, that period of bliss where you feel as if you’ve moved past the discomfort that lies within hiding from the truth. There comes a point where you’re sitting in your therapist’s office, slowly drifting away into the back room of your mind, and she tells you that you aren’t stable.

Unstable.

I hear that word and all I can think is that I am crazy. I know that word has a stigma around it and isn’t healthy to throw around but that is how I have been feeling for the past few months. I used to always view myself as good at hiding the inner turmoil that lives inside of me every day, but I fear that as I become more and more “unstable”, that veil I’ve worn is slipping.

I suppose This feeling of fear and anxiety towards being revealed as who I really am goes hand in hand with my fear of vulnerability. I am terrified that before I even get the chance to fully stabilize myself, I am going to go absolutely batshit crazy and everyone in my life will be able to see that. But even if and when I do become stable, I still will only have a fraction of a normal mind and that scares me even more. I feel like I will never be able to be a good friend or girlfriend or relative if I am always lacking a piece of me.

Unstable.

Knowing Me

Being vulnerable scares me, a lot. The mere idea of it makes me recoil in fear. To be completely open and honest about yourself means that you are susceptible to rejection and pity and disbelief.

I started to actually use this site as a way for me to learn to be okay with vulnerability. Learn to be okay with the idea of baring it all and providing an insight into the raw, unfiltered reality that is life and mental illness and honestly, everything in between.

Is it doing what I wanted it to? No.

Is it doing anything? Yes, but I don’t know if I like it.

I have come to many realizations about myself in the past year. While I have always been pretty self-reflective and introspective, I have made more breakthroughs within the past year than ever before. I think in part it’s due to the prolonged time alone that has allowed me to strip away each layer of social interaction that has coated me for years, but also due to the fact that I’ve been writing more. Not just writing but writing freely and openly. It has made me come to terms with things about myself that I never knew and learn more about what I want out of life. Which I suppose is a good thing, until you realize that it makes me want to recoil more at the idea of vulnerability.

I know myself more and in knowing myself more, I want to hide it all from the world. I don’t want anyone else to get to know me at this level. I don’t want someone else to be able to see who I am at my core. For so long I wanted someone to just listen to me and understand what I was feeling but I don’t know if I even want that anymore. I don’t think I’m a good person or at least a stable person, or I don’t even know. Even at this moment, I’m spiraling in my own head.

I don’t think I am a healthy person for someone else to get to know.

I think that I am someone who others are better off knowing as the watered-down version of themselves. I’m scared that the real me is too much for others to understand with no pay off in the end.

Hope...

tw: suicide

It turns out that the continuous up and down pattern that I have so desperately tried to break from is bipolar disorder. Obviously, there are more steps in my treatment and diagnosis before there is a solid understanding of where I fall in the textbook definition of it all, but as of right now, I am bipolar.

I don’t know how I feel about it. At first, I was ready to hear it, maybe I expected it or maybe I have become so numb to my own mental state that it didn’t phase me. Either way, initially I felt okay with it like now I know where to go from here.

But the truth is, I’ve had that same thought and feeling before. I had it when I first went to therapy when I got my first diagnosis and my second and third and fourth and fifth. I’ve experienced this false optimism before and allowed myself to get excited about something that is bound to hit the fan eventually. When do I get to stop discovering new things about myself? Things that explain why my mind is all screwed up.

Never. That's the truth, and I hate it. I hate knowing that I’m never going to stop having these moments of hope where I think everything will be okay. Moments where I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. The reality is that light is the end. Life doesn’t have happy endings, because, in order for that to happen, you have to end.

There will never be a time when I am actually happy for longer than a second, a time when my brain is still and at peace, a time when I can genuinely take a breath. I am going to have to work the rest of my life to achieve a fraction of what someone without my mind experiences.

And that realization makes me wish I could just get to the end of the tunnel.

Free

Now that I have graduated high school and I am moving on to a new chapter in my life, I have realized that I no longer have the self-imposed pressure of maintaining a reputation I created for myself. I’ve talked about it before and now just like that, with the turn of a tassel, I feel free.

The chains of wanting to be the perfect version of myself that I thought everyone saw me as, have broken. While I still have an immense weight of other nonsensical things on my shoulders, the constant need to be the person I think my peers and my teachers and my advisors want me to be is gone. Which leads me into an exciting place: I can say whatever I want. Not idiotically of course, but I have a new opportunity to allow myself to be the person I am, always have been and am becoming without needing to fit a mold that doesn’t suit me.

So, I will be doing just that. This website was always a safe place for me to land when the noise in my head got too loud, but now I think I actually believe it.

Worth

I graduated high school a little over two weeks ago and now I feel obligated to make a profound statement about life and living your teen years to the fullest. I feel as if I need to in order to attach meaning to the past four, eighteen years of my life. If I don’t share my so called wisdom, then were all the nights spent crying worth it? Was all of the self-hatred for nothing? Were all of the undesirable moments just a part of the ebb and flow of life?

As an artist, you are constantly reminded that it’s okay to be broken. Which on its own is a good message, but as the years have gone on and our own sick ideas of individuality have formed, that statement has turned into a green light for trauma olympics. Now you are unable to be an artist unless you are broken and “beyond fixing', you need damage in order to produce something profound and worth the 30 second glance from someone on their phone. If you don’t have anything seriously bad happen to you, then your stories are worth nothing and if you have bad thing happen to you but don’t tell those stories, then all the trauma is worth nothing. We have been conditioned to think that who we are is determined by how the world perceives us and what we do with what we are given. I think that’s crap.

It shouldn't matter how much we do or how much has happened to us in order to be deemed worthy enough of a shoulder to cry on or a moment of happiness. Each of us have our own unique stories that are comprised of hundreds of moments and details that we’ve probably forgotten, and for someone else to tell us what to do with those stories and those lost thoughts is sick. The beauty of vulnerability is the willingness of the person who is opening up. If we take away that choice and subconsciously force everyone who has a messed up story to tell it, then the message is poisoned and there is no conversation formed.

I have chosen to tell my stories because I want to and I’m good at it. I’m just tired of hearing people say that I have to, that it’s good I’ve decided to make something of all the bad. Isn’t it enough for me to have lived through the bad? To have just made it here anyways? Do I really need to produce something out of the bad in order for it to be meaningful?

I don’t think so.

Happy 365 Days of Writing

I’m pretty sure that my official website birthday is March 27 and I missed it, but that’s okay because it’s better late than never right?

Erasing the pandemic from my timeline, a year ago I was in a low place. Life felt excruciating and just breathing took an insane amount of energy out of me. My world was constantly spiraling around me, the pace quickening with each moment of panic. To think that I have made it where I am now, physically and mentally, is astonishing. I feel healthier and happier in my mind than I have in a very long time and I can genuinely and honestly say that.

I used to think that I needed to achieve great things before I would be able to feel this way. I thought I needed to become successful and confident and secure before I was allowed to be happy with life. I refused to allow myself to enjoy the little moments because I was always thinking about what could have been. I feel sorry for myself a year ago and how insecure she felt. Granted I am far from where I hope to one day be, but I am where I never thought I’d even be able to reach.

Starting this blog, actually, posting my first piece on this blog was my nod to myself to say that it was okay. I was subconsciously telling myself that I didn’t need the stars to align in order for me to find my footing, I just needed to stand up. That is one of the biggest lessons that I’ve learned this past year. There is never really a “perfect moment” and waiting for it to come is meaningless and causes more pain than pleasure in the long run. Just dive in head first, there’s no point in trying to wade into the water you’ll eventually be submerged in.

As much as I wished I could’ve fully realized this fact a year ago, five years ago, I’m grateful for every experience that has lead me to here. It has been a long ride and an even longer one awaits, but I am excited to see where it leads.

18 Things About 18

I am officially an adult and to commemorate that, I will be listing off 18 of the best life lessons I have learned thus far.

Go on walks. Not only is walking one of the best easy workouts you can do, but it is also extremely therapeutic. Going for a walk right at sunrise when you are stressed is one of the best things in the world. Everything is quiet and serene, it feels like life is on pause and the only worry you have it the step right in front of you.
Don’t become reliant on caffeine. Am I reliant on caffeine? Yes, but that is besides the point. Becoming dependent on anything really (to an extent) is not healthy. Drink all the caffeine you want, but just be cautious on gauging how well you’re doing without, or you might end up with a withdrawal headache from less than 24 hours of consuming a cold brew.
Buy that piece of clothing. If you’re ever shopping and you find a clothing item that you absolutely love but are scared that people won’t like it or that you think it makes you look weird, buy it. If you love it and you feel confident in it, I promise you, nothing else matters. In fact, for me, one of the ways I have been able to grow my self confidence is wearing clothes I thought I was too afraid to wear.
Invest in jewelry. I recently starting wearing rings, but for the longest time I have been a very strong advocate for bracelets. Wearing even one piece of jewelry makes you feel so much more put together than you actually are and it can turn any outfit into a 5 star piece. (This is also a great way to support small businesses ;)
Follow your passions. This is going to be one of the most cliché things on this list but it is also the most essential. Take time to do what you love, whether it be art or sports or science or whatever. If you love it do it, and waste no time in getting started. I created this blog years before I even started posting to it, solely because I was too afraid to and now it is the best thing I have. Just do what you love and embrace it (and if you don’t have something you’re totally passionate about, don’t stress and feel forced to find something).
Get a skincare routine. Or at least learn about your skin. No matter who you are or what your skin is like, I highly HIGHLY recommend creating a skin care routine. This will save your life in the long run and it gets fun after a while.
Take social media breaks. As someone who has been on social media since she was 12, I suggest taking breaks from social media every once in awhile. Not to sound like a mom, but social media can, to an extent, affect your mental health and self image. I know that it has for me, and by taking just a day to myself without social media, I have been able to work on rebuilding my own self esteem and security in myself.
Say no. If you are a people pleaser, or someone who is always scared to say no to things, learning to say “no” is one of the best things. There have been many times where I have bit off more than I can chew solely because I said “yes” to everything. My dad has reminded me of this every time I feel overwhelmed and stuck in a hole that I dug myself into and it has been a very important piece of advice.
Follow the news. Keeping up with the world and understanding what’s going on around you is pretty important. Even if that just means you scroll down the “news” section of Twitter, stay up to date with what is happening. This can help you to make better decisions and form your own ideas and opinions.
Get good handwriting. Or practice calligraphy. You don’t need perfect handwriting for day to day things (I definitely do not have pretty handwriting), but by at least knowing how to make your handwriting look pretty is something I recommend. Birthday cards, thank you cards, really any card, just got a lot nicer. You can save so much money just by learning how to do calligraphy or just nice lettering in general.
Take care of your hands. This can be as simple as using hand lotion or as elaborate as giving yourself a manicure once a month. I tend to have abnormally dry skin so that could be why I take extra precaution to take care of my hands, but either way I recommend it. Especially if you use your hands a lot, taking care of them can help you feel better even just a little.
Learn to edit and take photos. So this may be the photographer in me, but learning how to take your own pictures and edit them can save you SO MUCH money and it can be pretty useful when you are feeling yourself and just want to have a photoshoot. By all means I am not the greatest photographer, however, I would consider myself pretty good, to the point where I feel confident enough to take my own senior pictures (saving money). The best way to learn is just understand the basics of lighting and composition then go from there.
Stop hating the number 13, it is not that bad.
Celebrate Valentine’s Day. I love Valentine’s Day and I’ve only had a Valentine once. I think it is a highly underrated holiday that is marketed too heavily towards couples. My favorite February 14ths have been with my two best friends eating cake and just “hanging out”. Celebrate it, no matter how you do it, just do it.
Stop caring about what other people think. I lied when I said that number 5 was the most cliche, this is the most cliche. BUT it is still very essential knowledge. However it is important that you understand what this really means, I always took this as not caring about anything or everyone, when in reality it just means be yourself. Don’t worry if someone doesn’t like you or what you’re into, because as long as you’re being a good person what you do doesn’t matter to anyone but you. So don’t worry about judgement from others.
Part 2 to number 15. While you shouldn't worry about judgement, you also shouldn’t judge people either. I am 100% guilty of this. I judge people all the time and it is not good. You shouldn’t compare yourself to other people or hate on other people. Just like your actions (to an extent) don’t matter to them, their actions shouldn’t matter to you.
I am starting to realize that 18 things is actually a lot of things so I guess it is fitting to remind you to always plan. You never want to end up in a situation where you have bitten off way more than you can chew and you can’t seem to find the time to do anything. This goes hand in hand with number 8. Learning how to better manage your time and plan out your day is such a good life lesson.
Finally we are at number 18, I originally knew exactly what I was going to put here, but I’ve decided to save it for another entry (hint: it is my senior quote). So instead I am simply going to say don’t grow up too fast. Also cliche, but don’t feel pressure to grow up, to become “mature”. Enjoy the moments as they come and savor each minute.

Thank you for taking time to read over my “oh so wise” advice. I am aware that just because I have been 18 for less than 24 hours doesn’t make me an expert on adulthood, but everyone has at least one life lesson to share so I might as well take the time to share some of mine.

Happy New Year (ish)

Another year has come and like always, I am late to welcoming it. This is why I am thankful I have five opportunities for a new start throughout the year, because I always seem to mess up the first one.

The first is obvious, it’s January 1st. The beginning of a new dawn, a new day. New Years signifies a clean slate where you can grow and become this ideal version of yourself. Everyone has resolutions that fit into a perfect life, but the reality is that this aspirations fade away by February. I think it’s because we put too much pressure onto January. We hold ourselves to a higher standard than we ever have before and are surprised when we are unable to meet that bar. January always feels like a disappointment to me. I try to reinvent my entire being in 31 days and I always fall short of longevity.

The second is my favorite, the Lunar New Year. My family and I follow most of the same Chinese traditions on both New Years, but Lunar New Year holds more meaning to me. It’s not just the red envelopes filled with cash that make it my favorite, but because it isn’t about changing myself to be perfect, instead it is about welcoming a new year that is filled with prosperity and good things. It’s about family and togetherness, health and well-being. Not only is it a time for me to embrace my culture and eat incredible food, but it is also a time for me to get a second chance at a new year.

The third is woven in here, simply because it is coming up in three days, my birthday. Now I know what you’re thinking, a birthday isn’t that monuments in terms of a “new year”, but I beg to differ. Birthday’s are the best time to reinvent yourself AND there's no pressure to do so because no one really expects you to. January 1st is when everyone decides to take charge and change their lives, Lunar New Year is about welcoming the year so it will bring you good things, but your birthday is all about you. It’s about celebrating you. You embrace everything you’ve been and everything you’re about to become, which is why I see it as the opportune time to write resolutions. Birthday goals. I still haven’t figured mine out yet, but I know they’re going to be good.

The fourth is intertwined with my birthday in a sense. As a Catholic, I find Lent to be one of the most productive “New Years”. Technically, it isn’t the start of anything new per say, but it is a dedicated time period that is all about self-reflection and development. This is exactly why it is my favorite time in the church. To me, it’s like what actual New Year’s wishes it was. It’s about resolutions, time to change and grow, but it’s about longevity and working beyond the 40 days and nights. Lent is focused on finishing it a better person internally than you were at the beginning.

Finally, we come to the last “new year”. Advent. This is what I like to take as my last ditch effort to have a “new start". Again, it is a Catholic thing, but it is technically the beginning of the Catholic calendar, as it is the four weeks leading up to Christmas. I love it because it is simple and adds a little something more to the hectic ness of the holiday season.

So those are my five New Years days, so far I think I’m 0/2 in terms of really making the most of them this year, but I plan to get at least one win in.