Month: September 2018

I spent the next 20 minutes trying to fish a lemon seed out of my ice tea. I was thinking about how I haven’t been honest with my counselor, and how I’m considering telling her that I think I have anxiety. I feel like my way of finding peace is to not socialize at all. I then thought of how all I wanted to do was write all my thoughts down and how I wish there was a mental note pad that kept my thoughts in question. I thought about going on vacation with my boyfriend and living a little. I thought about how no one ever really cared about what I thought, how I never had a voice. I thought, “when I live on my own, I’m going to go everywhere and do everything with no cares. I don’t know how I’m going to get there, but I’m going to do it. I’m going to be reckless.”

I often thought about how many kids my age have anxiety but hide it under the table because they feel as though society is going to capsize the table. Maybe the weight of the world is too much. Maybe the fake people mask it by making it heavier: applying more makeup, spending more money, compacting their schedules to distract them from how mean the world actually is. And in the midst of my thoughts, I was distracted by the realization that my dinner arrived to my table.
~
On the way home, I thought about my relationship with my boyfriend. Was I actually in love? Truthfully, no. I want the kind of love where I can’t sleep. The kind of love where it hurts to be away. The kind of love where you get butterflies and can’t help but smile when you see them. I dream of a love that’s real. One where I don’t feel ashamed of who I am or what I do. One where I can be independent, but still need him just as much if I were dependent on him. One where no matter what I do, or where I go, I feel safe and loved and I know that somewhere out there, the love of my life waits for me and thinks of me too. But this guy, it wasn’t him. He was selfish and narcissistic. His heart was filled with the vacant kind of love. Eventually I gave up on him and it wasn’t because I didn’t love him. It was because he never came to his senses to reciprocate the real love I had in my heart for him. He sure was full of himself and the irony of it all was that he was empty.

I was ready for the day to be over. I was ready for peace. I was ready to breathe. To blink. I was ready for a new life, a new love, a new beginning. I felt empowered, beautiful, strong, ready to move on. But at the same time, I felt belittled. But I refuse to let someone’s opinion define me. I need simple, yet so complex. I need happy. Safe. But I know I can find that within myself. But first, I’m going to find my bed and go to sleep.

 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. – Philippians 4:8

Once I got to college I started realizing things about myself and my environment that I was too ignorant to think about when I was younger. Life changes. Although I had a good understanding of my self-worth, it wasn’t until college that certain events and instances proved that to me. I gained even more respect for myself then but at the same time I also became a little bit cut off from the rest of society because I felt too mature for my age. I didn’t really fit in anywhere and it was one of the loneliest feelings. I had a hard time making friends growing up and I thought it would be easier when I got to college but in my opinion it became a lot harder. Everyone seemed to be the same- wearing the same clothes, having the same attitude, having similar like and dislikes- and then there was me. I’d often wake up in the morning and look out my window to see groups of students going to class and feel like a complete and utter alien. It often felt like I was watching from my spaceship. In fact, the few times I did go to social events at the kickoff of the school year, I would be treated as though I was invisible. Was it me? What was I missing? I’d even change my persona to see if there was a “certain type of person” people get along with best. Still nothing. When I was acknowledged in conversation, I would receive a fake smile and a dismissive nod. The feeling was equivalent to screaming in a sound proof box. I questioned my faith several times because I didn’t know if anyone actually heard me. My relationship with God was stray and I wanted to know him again like I used to. I called my mom seeking advice (only from the best, of course). She explained to me that individuality isn’t a bad thing and that nothing is wrong with me. The people just like me were all over campus whether I realized it or not- probably hiding in their rooms just like I was.

I went to class this week and got on the bus that takes students across campus, sitting all the way in the back left corner. It’s my favorite spot. After rolling through two stops of students getting on and off the bus, I found myself squished into my corner. Even with feeling the sleeve of the sweatshirt of the girl sitting next to me brushing up against my arm, I still felt completely isolated. I hugged my backpack tighter. It was comforting to me. I paused the song that was playing through my earphones and took a minute to listen to the bus engine roar and whine and the silence of a crowd of people scroll, swipe, and tap on their phones. I looked at each and every single person for a second and thought to myself, “I’m alone…” Chills ran down my arms. “...But I’m here and I’m making it on my own.” And that’s when the difference between “alone” and “on my own” became clear to me. I smiled and played my song again, looking out the window into the world that was soon to be mine.

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. – 1 Peter 5:7