Late Night Thought: How To Deal

Disclaimer: This is a very long and incredibly honest post. I started writing it in the middle of the night, so that is why the title refers to "late night."  In a way, I am venting. If you can handle that, keep reading. If not, feel free to exit out. 


I've never been good at dealing with stress. I'm certainly not a professional at processing my emotions and feelings in ways that are both healthy, as well as justified (or at least making it appear that my feelings are justified).


Despite my honesty within my writings, I actually have a very hard time communicating and getting things out in the open. Lately, I've been finding myself feeling the same way I did when I was thirteen; trapped, frustrated and even a little scared. Even though I have been able to make peace with happened back then, I think I have always subconciously been one to try and keep it together until the last moment, where I can no longer emotionally or even physically take it anymore. The only difference, this time around is that the circumstances are different.


I will not expand very much on what these circumstances are, but it has a lot to do with things that have been going on for the last six or seven years. there has been a pink elephant standing in my house, one that I wanted to do anything but  acknowledge it was there. 
There is a lot more that has to do with my brother leaving for the Air Force, but that I will save for another time.


I now understand that not all is well. As I said before, I once again find myself frustrated and trapped. I get angry at times, so much that I literally want to scream. I've become somewhat resentful. And I tell people to leave me alone, when the truth is that loneliness is consuming me like no other.


So the question is not if I should deal with it, but rather, how should I deal with it. This is becoming the main question I ask myself whenever I endure any kind of trial. 


I can either...


Talk About It-This is normally the most logical answer, regardless of whatever a person is going through. I've learned time and again, in terms of both my own experiences and others, that keeping silent about most upsetting matters does not work. It will gnaw at you and eventually eat away at your life until you feel practically dead inside. 


But than it begs then question "Just whom do I talk to?" Over the years, I've learned that unfortunately you can't talk to everyone about everything; there are those who won't be able to understand, as well as those who won't even make the effort to try and understand. On a personal level, it very much depends on how whomever I am talking to reacts to what I am telling them.


 For example, some of my relatives have very strong opinions; they will either take sides, or most likely tell me that either I make things too complicated or that I don't know how to appreciate what I have. That in turn will make me more defensive and hostile than I already am. 


In terms of friends, it largely depends on what the situation is. Some of them don't always know what to say, and I can't necessarily hold that against them. There are some circumstances when one literally has to have walked in a particular person shoes in order genuinely empathize with them. Heck, there are occasions when friends have come to me and asked "why did this happen?" and I don't have an answer. 


Truthfully, I tend to feel guilty whenever I confide in my friends about something; as though I am just dumping my tribulations on their shoulders, when they already have enough going on in their own lives. But I'll get to that later. 


Ever since I've come back from school, all I've wanted to do (either through Facebook or phone call) is say "I need to talk. I need to be held. I need you." In the past, they have been there for me more times than I can remember. But there is a part of me that's terrified that they won't be this time around. 


Of course, there is also therapy/counseling. I have always had a love/hate relationship with that sort of thing. Mostly because the therapists I went to often made things worse, not better. The last time I went, the woman told me things that you should never tell a fourteen year old child. So at the point I kind of figured that talking to a supposed licensed professional wasn't the best thing for me, even though I know now that it's just a matter of finding the right one. 


Journaling/Prayer-I admit that I haven't always been a good "Christian". As I wrote about previously, there are times when I'm really not sure as to what I believe in, specifically in regards to what is written in the Bible. However, that does not mean that I don't believe in God or having a relationship with Him. When it seems like everyone else is far away and that I am left alone to fend for myself, it seems as though God is always knocking on my little caccoon and letting me know that I am not. And when it all comes down to it, spirituality has always been the one thing that has been a safe haven for me. 


So that is why, whenever I'm going through a difficult time, I mostly ask people to pray for me.


And that is where journaling comes in; some days I spent hours writing down my prayers or random stuff that happens to come to mind. The thing with writing though, whether it be in my personal journal or on this blog, is that I usually have a lot to say. Sometimes when I write, I am gripped by fear of what others may think, or the overwhelming task of trying to get it all out on the table. So sometimes those writings go unfinished. 


Pretend it's not there or distract myself-Although not the healthiest way of going about it, this is normally the easiest thing for me to do as well as the path I usually take. Part of the joy of being away at college was  that I could completely focus on myself; I didn't have to assume the role of the older daughter of the big sister that tries to constantly be strong and/or keep everybody happy. I understand the selfishness in that kind of attitude, but it's the truth. It's one of those "out of sight, out of mind" cases. 


There will eventually come a point where I either want to stop talking about whatever is going on, or not discuss it at all. So that is why lately I have been calling my friends so much; not to vent, but to make plans to spend time with them and focus on something other than my struggles. And I'm not saying that this always works, but when I don't frequently discuss something, it becomes less of an issue. Ultimately, there are times when all I want to do is escape somewhere, even just for a little while. 


Yet, whenever I acknowledge that something is wrong, I always feel some sort of guilt along with it. For instance, I think to myself "there are people who have lost everything in these recent tornadoes, so who am I to break down and cry?" And than when I think about specific subjects, I remember that I am actually only here for two months. Once I go back to school, it's not really my issue to deal with anymore. In reality, it's not even my issue to deal with in the first place, so why am I worried so much? Yet, when you literally have to feel it, or when it makes you afraid day in and day out, it does become your issue. 


I don't think that life sucks; there are days when I wake up and I think to myself "you know, maybe this whole thing isn't as bad as I make it out to be." And that may or may not be true. I don't know whether to brace myself for an approaching storm that may  just turn out to be a light rain shower. 


In life, some days I see the flowers, and other days all I can feel is the thorns.


I know it appears that I am just lashing out or sounding completely immature. But I'm really not sure what else to do.

For My Guy Friends

Not too long ago, I wrote a post about the importance of having girlfriends and what it meant to me. As I read over it, I started to think that my guy friends deserved to be honored as well.

 I didn’t start investing in those kinds of friendships until seventh or eighth grade. Part of it was by natural inclination, and the other part was because I was wary of being around girls too much. I was picked on and bullied for a majority of those two years, and I needed to be able to get away from the cattiness and gossip. As a teenager, I carried a lot of insecurities, particularly when it came to having a handicap. When I was with them, I felt genuinely accepted and cared for, which carried over into high school as well.

As I've gotten older, I've come to appreciate them for more than just being confidants. There were those that I met in my first year of college that frequently took me out on the town, because they saw where I was coming from in terms of wanting to just let loose and be a regular college kid. I liked that they weren’t overly worried about my physical safety and trusted me enough to speak up for myself if I needed anything. They would regularly ask if I was OK, and in turn I was able to take responsibility for myself and the choices I made

But as a whole, I’m grateful for how they treat me as a person; I feel more normal when I'm around them than any other time. It is very rare that we ever touch on the fact that I have cerebral palsy, regardless of who they are or how long I have known them for. Some have asked out curiosity, and that is why I have tremendous respect for those that are willing to openly discuss the matter instead of make assumptions.

 And whether anyone asks or not, I’ve realized that it’s probably not a big deal to them, nor does it define me. I'm still "Al" or any one of the dozen nicknames I've been given (one of them was from a car commercial, and another was because I constantly wore a pink fuzzy Northface jacket around campus). There are those that have an amazing sense of humor and we often spend time joking around about stuff. And despite that I sometimes appear to take it seriously, it's only because I'm not sure how to respond with something as equally funny. Half of the time I just sit there and laugh until I can't breathe.

It’s nice to do different things with different people, and creates a healthy balance.  I think everybody needs to have friends who can challenge their perspective and motivate them to be the best person that they can be. Not too many of mine know it, but a lot of them have been positive influences and strong examples since the day I met them. My instincts told me that there was something about them that was special.

Having those people in my life has taught me a lot and in turn enabled me to be a better person. I have so much respect for them, and can only hope that if I haven't done it already, I will one day be able to do for them what they have done for me.

Update: It’s crazy to think how much has happened in the last four years. I was only nineteen when I wrote this, and was actually struggling with keeping friendships for a little while. I was meeting new people all the time, but it was more of a matter of finding those that I genuinely meshed with after the sense of “newness” and excitement of being in college wore off. I was still in the process of trying to figure out who I was and where I fit, along with feeling confident that not knowing was perfectly OK. It takes a lot of time and courage to truly get to know someone, a lot of which I didn’t think I had because I’d been burned in the past.

That fear intensified after my first brush with sexual assault (one of several that I dealt with several times afterward). I’d become well aware that most people (especially young women), were either perceived as good or bad based on what they did, more so when it came to their bodies. Our culture is borderline obsessed with victim-blaming instead of focusing on the attacker, and I was already dealing with enough judgment and shame from not having taken the right precautions to get away. I didn’t want to run the risk of changing anybody’s opinion of me when I wasn’t ready to talk about it.  

Of course, there was always the question of why bring anything up when they don’t need to know? Sure, they didn’t need to know about my parents’ imminent divorce or how the events leading up to it affected me. They didn’t need to know that I struggle with depression or that I’d been in and out of therapy for years. Yet not talking about it started to feel weird after a while. When it came to my closest guy friends, I spent more energy trying to avoid those subjects, which created a huge barrier between us. I’m not sure if they sensed anything, but I don’t like depending on people as emotional crutches when trying to cope with a difficult situation. I had a lot going on at once, and when I did finally start discussing my history, it was because I was in a good place and the timing was appropriate.

However, I wish I had been more clear about how there are times when I don’t want to talk about it. My struggles are not problems to be solved, much less in a short period of time. In lieu of deep conversations, I’d more prefer a hug or doing something else to get my mind off of whatever I’m going through. I appreciate those that went and got drinks with me when I suggested it, because there are a lot of fun memories that came out of those nights. I still wonder if certain friends were able to witness my bubbly, goofy side when we spent time together.

There were rough patches, a falling out during freshman year, and thankfully a falling back in before graduation. I had my pet peeves (lack of communication with cell phones among them) and I’m sure I equally drove them crazy with my own shortcomings. There were a lot of times where I wanted to yell “you don’t get it!” or “you’re not listening to what I’m saying!” because of personality clashes. Through it all we stayed in each other lives, and that’s a true testament to what they meant to me, and most likely what I meant to them as well.

I’ve often focused on what they’ve done for me rather than what I’ve learned from them. A lot of it has to do with self-acceptance and not being ashamed of who you are both inside and out. I know that I am my own worst critic and that I tend to self-blame for matters that aren’t my fault. I’ve spent a lot of time loving and trying to be who I feel like I should be, rather than loving and being the person I know that I am. Not all of these guys know each other personally, but they all have good hearts. Do you want to know why?

They were able to see in me what I couldn’t see in myself, at least not for a very long time. And I think that’s why God gives us friends.

I’m now comfortable saying that I appreciate being taken care of and protected. It doesn’t always have to be in the traditional sense, but for me it means being close to people. I don’t want or expect anyone to hold my hand, but just let me know that you’re walking through this with me. Sometimes it means just being heard or validated. That’s more than enough.

The goodbyes did not happen all at once, but they were no less painful and difficult to do. I still recall the last hugs from each of them and crying for at least an hour once I was alone. I’m at least a hundred miles away from each of them now and I’m grateful for the convenience of texting and calling when there’s time. Yet nothing compares to bonding over classic rock music, being competitive over our favorite sports teams (particularly if and when they’re rivals), or just being goofballs. I miss the traditions and typical weekend happenings. Those are the little things that I savored and continue to look back on.

I care for them each in my own little way and I hope that despite the distance, we will one day cross paths again (or at least use technology to our advantage). Though I’m still a little sad, I give thanks and I count my blessings. Not everyone can say they've had several years with such amazing people.

Stream of Conscience #10

It's the fourth day of Summer Break; I am here at home, drinking coffee and watching Shania Twain's new reality show on the Oprah Winfrey Network. It sounds a little dull, but I have to say that I'm enjoying it. This summer feels different, like I'm looking at it in a different way this time around. In the past it was always about hanging out with friends every single day and doing something all the time. I think this is the first summer season where I've started to realize that both my friends and I are becoming adults and we're not going to necessarily be spending all this time together like we used to. They have jobs, and I will start working at my own job in a couple of weeks. It doesn't mean that my social life is not going to exist, it just means that I understand that the concept of summer in itself isn't really what it used to be. 


In a more positive light, I'm viewing this summer break as a time to do things that I don't always get to do when I'm away: I get to read for more than just an hour or two, I get to watch TV, I can go to church, and I can actually sit down and write without it having to be a research paper or some major assignment for a class. I want to spend time with my family, especially my brother, who will be leaving for basic training in a little less than two months. I want to catch up with those that didn't get to visit me while I was at school and actually talk with them. 


And granted, I do miss campus already to some degree; it's weird how much one has to rely on communication and planning ahead in order to do something. When I was at school I could easily just text someone five to ten minutes beforehand and most of the time a car wasn't needed in order to get from point A to point B. It's weird how on a Friday night I was at home thinking "I'm usually downtown dancing my ass off by now" as opposed to already getting ready for bed. The hardest part will be not being frequently surrounded by people to talk to. I know there will come a point, probably a few weeks from now, where I will say "I feel so isolated from everything else. I'm lonely, and this sucks!" 


But for now, I'm just trying to take this particular time for what it is; a time to just relax and recharge and not have to be stressing out about life. I'm beginning to get into a routine where I work out almost every single day and hopefully by the time the warm weather officially hits, I will be physically feeling good enough to wear a swimsuit. Note that this is not about weight; when I was away I was frequently putting all this crap into my body and it made me feel like a lug. I'm on a junk detox, if you will; but more about that in later time. 


And since I will be getting my own apartment, I have a lot of stuff to buy. So there will be shopping, (my favorite..tehehe) and I'm hoping to make some decorations and stuff for the place. I ultimately want to put my creative mind to good use. 


It's summer after all, and the living should be easy. And that is how I'm going to go about it.

Something To Be Proud Of

It was only just recently that I finished my last final, as well as my freshman year of college in itself. My grades for the semester have not be posted yet, but I already know that I have something to be proud of.


I am proud the fact that I bypassed everyone else's views and opinions and chased after this dream of mine. I am proud of the fact that I had the courage to go beyond the views, despite what it seemed to physically and emotionally entail. I recall writing a post before I left for school about my hopes and goals for the coming year; that not only did I want to survive, but I also wanted to thrive from what I experienced here. Quite honestly, that's exactly what happened.


I'm still in awe of the changes that took place within the first month and semester that I was here. Looking back to August from this particular point, I am even more amazed at the difference eight and a half months make. There are times when it doesn't feel like it because I didn't come into college with a completely romanticized view of it; I knew that I wouldn't have it all together (even though I constantly felt like I had to) and I knew that I would probably be challenged in more ways than I could fathom. Nonetheless, I know that I'm not exactly the same person, even though it hasn't been all that long.


It's tricky to pin-point what exactly those changes are, and whether or not they're for the better. I feel like I've developed more of a relaxed attitude toward certain things and I'm no longer embaressed by my quirky characteristics that I once analyzed to a T. I am more confident in who I am as a person and my abilities, and have discovered that amazing things tend to happen when you just go for something instead of going through the "what if's"


That's not to say that everything was picture perfect; there were a lot of moments, especially in these last few months that left me frustrated, as though I was slipping back into my old mindset. There were times when I became pissed off at myself just because I was feeling a little down, and there were times where I wondered is this the same stuff repeating itself? I did cry every once in awhile. But if you don't experience pain in this type of journey every so often, than you're not really living. 


I'm not sure if I have a "favorite" memory of my freshman year; the thing about college is that you don't have these big events like homecoming or prom to pick from. Personally, it was a bunch of little things; watching Disney movies in the dorms, making random food runs at midnight or later, going to the nightclubs downtown, studying in my favorite coffeeshops, attending the football games...I could easily go on. 


Out of all of it, the best thing was (and still is in general) the people that I met and got to know. That's the other thing; that you come across so many different people from different backgrounds, cultures, etc. and it's always interesting to find out who you're going to mesh with. Some I became close with, and some I didn't. There were those that I experienced a lot of ups and downs with. But through it all, each one of them has made a difference to me. 


I'm incredibly grateful for what I've been able to learn and experience in my first year. I don't have everything figured out exactly, but the fun part is not really knowing what is going to come next. When you keep your expectations at mid-level, amazing things tend to happen. And the funny thing is that this is only the beginning of it all.

The Importance of Community

When I first came to campus, my desire for independence and my stubborn demeanor were both at an all-time high. My parents made no secret of the fact that they were worried about my ability to function away from home. My brother was also quite vocal in his opinion that he did not believe I would survive a full semester. For a little bit (and as a joke) he and my Mom made a bet on how long I could go before I came home for a weekend (needless to say, I lasted until the third week of September). 


For most of my life, I have always felt this subconscious need to prove that I can physically, as well as emotionally, go above and beyond what people expect of me. Going away to college was no different; that particular need actually intensified as friends and family members back home expressed their concern for me. I had this vision that attending a University would be this huge cross-over from childhood to adulthood, and in various ways, that's exactly what it has been. 


In the first couple of weeks of school, my whole idea was to completely start over; for a while, I didn't even plan on telling anyone about my physical condition (for more on that, you can read it here). Suffice to say, people will either figure it out or at least ask me about it eventually. (And at the risk of getting off topic for a moment, I do prefer asking questions rather than making assumptions). I wanted to be the kind of person that I hadn't been in the past: strong, independent, assertive, calm, level-headed...you get the idea


For the most part, I was pretty comfortable. Yet as time went by, there were certain aspects that began to change. It got to a point where one person sat me down and basically told me that I was a burden and that it wasn't fair for others to have to take care of me. To this day, I still don't know if it was something they said out of love or if it just slipped out unnoticed; but regardless, I was devastated because it was mostly due to the one thing I couldn't control. At that time, I believed that I was completely on my own. 


Again, I felt that incessant need to prove that I could be an "adult": I vowed never to call my parents up crying unless I felt it was absolutely necessary (I'll admit that I did do it a couple of times, one of them just recently). In a sense, I had someone who I considered to be very special in my life and I didn't confide in anybody about it until long after it had ended. When I went out, I made it clear to those I was with that they were not obligated to take care of me. I went so far as to stop asking my friends for hugs or to just hold me for a minute or two when I needed it; this was mostly out of the fear of being told "no."


But that was seven months ago. 


It was toward the end of February or some time in March that I began going to Intervarsity with another floormate of mine. At first I was terrified because I had already tried two faith-based groups on campus, and I always felt out of place because it appeared as though everybody in there had these perfect relationships with God and had everything all figured out. I, on the other hand, was still terribly confused and therefore concluded that maybe  it just wasn't something that I needed in my life. 


But whenever I went, which was usually just a small group of us in a dorm, I felt like I didn't need to be an "adult" so to speak. Admittedly, there were times where I even wept, not because I was sad or upset, but because I was relieved. 


And the same was true for many other people that I've met, gotten to know and have come to truly care for around here


I think the biggest misconception that most human beings have in relation to adulthood is that as you get older, you have to start relying more on yourself and not the people around you. I don't know if it's just my generation, the generations that will follow, or even a few ahead, but it seems as though we're all being raised in a dog-eat-dog kind of world. As though it's every person for themselves, and if you're not the last one standing? Well, to put it appropriately...that just sucks for you. 


I won't say that the world isn't full of bad things or bad people, because it definitely is. There are those who don't give a damn about anyone except themselves, and they will often pretend to care only if it benefits them in some way. I won't say that one shouldn't learn to become physically and financially independent, because their parents or whomever raised them will not be around forever. I won't say to go crying to someone about every little bad thing that happens, because one can only go so far before they become completely and utterly dependent on another to fix everything for them.


But does that mean that one should go through life alone? 


I think not. 


Thus far, I've only begun to learn just how essential surrounding yourself with a community of people really is. Whether that be a sports team, a church, a fraternity/sorority, family, or just a group that does one common activity together, it's important not to isolate yourself from the rest of the world. As much as one thinks self-reliance will help them succeed, it plays a small part. In the grand scheme of things, you need people around you that will encourage you, laugh with you, be there for you, and so on and so forth. 


As for me personally, I've come to understand that just because one person says something or thinks a certain way, it does not mean that everyone else feels the same. I know that my friends and family members want to be there for me. They want to see me happy and to succeed in everything that I do. It's just a matter of being honest with myself in regards to when I can't put on a brave face anymore. 


To do this day, I still struggle with it. I go through phases where I feel like being an open book for a while, and then I will feel inclined to carry my own weight for a certain amount of time. It depends on who I surround myself with and what is currently going on in my life. 


Sometimes I just need a gentle reminder that I'm not meant to be alone. Life is not meant to live alone.