tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81459784310466287852024-03-04T22:38:10.862-08:00Maybe this makes senseMy words sound better coming from my hands than from my mouthAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-52584588636568363402014-09-21T20:27:00.000-07:002014-09-21T20:30:24.400-07:00Iceberg I'm sitting behind Antarctica<br />
Pretending that my eyes are<br />
Waterfalls and the shower<br />
Is crying but maybe all<br />
This water will make the<br />
Darkness wash away<br />
Maybe it will cleanse me<br />
From the disease that<br />
Keeps me from the calm<br />
& prevents me from rest<br />
Maybe somehow in a twisted<br />
Way I'll be the one to<br />
Get swept down the drain<br />
And pulled toward the ocean<br />
Free waves<br />
Crashing but not bruising<br />
Breaking but still whole<br />
Maybe I'll learn how to<br />
Melt without losing myselfAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-67680138600489613722014-07-12T22:38:00.003-07:002014-07-12T22:38:50.436-07:00Tell me.<div class="p1">
tell me what it's like to feel everything</div>
<div class="p1">
and tell me how much it hurts </div>
<div class="p1">
tell me how much it hurts when everything comes crashing down inside your ribs</div>
<div class="p1">
tell me how it feels when you cry so much that its hard to breathe and you can't inhale</div>
<div class="p1">
please tell me what it's like inside your mind where you feel things you can't even describe and there's this itching to let them out</div>
<div class="p1">
tell me what it's like to sometimes have limbs filled with sand and a chest ripped apart by a hurricane</div>
<div class="p1">
to have feelings you don't know how to feel and thoughts you don't know where to put.</div>
<div class="p1">
please explain to me how you work, </div>
<div class="p1">
how the beautiful silences curl around your lips and how fire burns the edges of me when you speak</div>
<div class="p1">
how jagged rocks cut your insides and there's scar tissue in the bottom of your feet</div>
<div class="p1">
how concrete doesn't compare to the landing you feel when your mind goes careening into the darkness</div>
<div class="p1">
coming close to combustion</div>
<div class="p1">
i want to know how it feels to be crushed from the inside out. </div>
<div class="p1">
because then maybe it'll make sense.</div>
<br />
<div class="p1">
it'll make sense the way your destroying me but i've never felt more whole.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-14639439656240949502014-06-11T19:38:00.004-07:002014-06-11T19:44:32.046-07:00Let them rip meWriting is rough on me<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I feel it caustic on my skin</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A punch in the stomach</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s heavy in my throat </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Slapping me awake</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Throwing one back </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Burning down inside</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Words pluck me like strings</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Each line a beat of blood</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Let them rip me </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Let them cut pieces off</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I can pick them up </div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
And remember where they go</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-28425370032653044002014-06-11T19:38:00.002-07:002015-09-19T16:25:51.381-07:00Suffocating backwardsI have trouble nearing the cliff without jumping off<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Standing at the fence without hopping it, and</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Running headlong into the mist</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I clench my fist sometimes when I </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
See a car and watch it plummet down the street</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Paper bags were never for my lunches</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cause I didn’t know how to stop inhaling</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Where does it begin and I end </div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I let it all inside me and not back out again</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Suffocating backwards</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-86702186225290327092014-05-04T22:59:00.000-07:002014-05-04T22:59:05.806-07:00Halfway? What's that?I don't do things halfway.<br />
If you are my friend. Let me tell you, you will know how much I love you and appreciate you.<br />
I'll send you texts randomly to tell you I miss you. I'll make sure to make your birthday special.<br />
I'll protect you. I'll be fiercely loyal. Your problems won't have to be solved alone.<br />
<br />
I guess I didn't know this would carry over to guys too.<br />
I don't really do the whole "casual" thing. It's all or nothing baby.<br />
So take me, all my problems but also all my gifts<br />
Or leave me completely.<br />
<br />
I know this isn't easy.<br />
Life is messy and there is no such thing as black and white.<br />
I'm not perfect. Of course all of my relationships are not so intense.<br />
But it's really how I prefer things.<br />
If we like each other. Then why not <i>really</i> like each other.<br />
<br />
I never knew how to strike a match without lighting a fire.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-48666673312065394112014-05-03T23:24:00.001-07:002014-05-03T23:24:18.536-07:00Here's to the girls...Here's to the girls<br />
That are coming home drunk<br />
Wishing that a guy would've asked for their number<br />
That have no one to cuddle with<br />
No one to text to tell about their night<br />
Having to act okay around their girlfriends with boyfriends<br />
Because you wish you had <i>someone</i> so badly<br />
Even though you are an independent woman<br />
Who is okay on her own<br />
It's nice to have someone that cares<br />
Someone who cares about you and you're face<br />
Your hands to hold, your lips to kiss,<br />
That day will come, that time will come<br />
I promise you are okay.<br />
Look in the mirror and tell yourself you are beautiful<br />
Because you are.<br />
You don't need a man to tell you<br />
You're enough, you're worth it.<br />
You're worth it all.<br />
Drunk tears, empty beds, cold winds<br />
It'll all be okay baby.<br />
It'll be okay.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-28252407793520231212014-03-17T22:59:00.001-07:002014-03-17T22:59:42.348-07:00Ever since I learned to spellWriting has always been a release for me. Ever since I
learned to spell.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember learning to write the word “love”. I wanted to
write it everywhere. It was like magic to me, that I could put something that I
thought or said onto paper. It was like seeing that word come to life. Love
became tangible and I scribbled it all over my first notebook. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Soon “love” turned to “I love you” and my simple sentences
became stories. I’ve used countless notebooks throughout my life to write down
my thoughts or to escape into stories. I learned quickly that through writing I
could create my own worlds. The problems always got solved. The people always
lived happily ever after. There was a lot of drama, heartbreak and strife but
in the end everyone was okay. I could control everything and put it away
neatly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s gotten more complicated as I got older. I’ve learned
that the intricate strings of emotions and problems are not always so easy to
untie. The English language is so limiting. Not every story has a happy ending.
There’s not always a lesson to be learned. And a lot of things don’t make
sense. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But somehow words always make sense to me even if life
doesn’t. I don’t just use life to influence my words. I use my words to manage
my life.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-70280006157210878852014-02-23T20:52:00.004-08:002014-02-23T20:55:04.931-08:00If you're happy and you know itI often have nights, or moments when I just get so happy that tears brim in my eyes.<br />
<br />
What are these moments you may ask?<br />
<br />
Sometimes I'm just sitting on my bed, listening to a good song, and I think about how wonderful life is and the people that have touched mine.<br />
<br />
I think about the courageous young man, Warsame, who talked to our class about all of his harrowing experiences and he still joked about "popping a wheelie in the club" (he uses a wheelchair). How can he can find laughter out of all the heartbreak and hard times he has gone through?<br />
<br />
I think about my mom and my dad and their efforts to defend me and protect me from any negative emotions. How I got upset about Walgreens not refilling my prescription and both of them were so concerned, so upset. My problem was their problem. That's love.<br />
<br />
These little things make me so happy when I think about them all at once.<br />
<br />
Emotions fill me up and overwhelm me and sometimes I hate that about myself. I hate that I can escalate one feeling into a hurricane of emotions. But I'm learning that I wouldn't change it. I am not trying to wish it away anymore.<br />
<br />
Because I like smiling to myself and feeling loved to the point where I cry and I believe it makes me a better writer.<br />
<br />
I wouldn't have been able to write that article about OT without being on zero sleep from my insomnia and without the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the excitement and emotion making waves over me.<br />
<br />
This is me. I'm not meant to be level headed and calm, although I have been conditioned to believe that's what I need to be.<br />
<br />
So...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKtck3yEZtUpnhRZnkDFHWQHsEHh1DdYu4uB5hGADbUneUWmxHJjFsaRLnjW0K3hTks11LL8BIG9UsqNtoodwj238fVr0uIXW3crqL4esmpa03cBp8ri0pN5ZiFSWtYx1792PmHHEPaU/s1600/feelings+are+visitors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKtck3yEZtUpnhRZnkDFHWQHsEHh1DdYu4uB5hGADbUneUWmxHJjFsaRLnjW0K3hTks11LL8BIG9UsqNtoodwj238fVr0uIXW3crqL4esmpa03cBp8ri0pN5ZiFSWtYx1792PmHHEPaU/s1600/feelings+are+visitors.jpg" height="94" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But make sure to appreciate them while they are there. I'm appreciating this happiness that has come over me unexpectedly, that is making me feel so thankful.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-42998822902501109602014-02-19T13:06:00.002-08:002014-02-22T09:48:01.919-08:00Don't date an Occupational Therapist (OT)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5rTLz2QIWUSeiRSXY7jOJjU5r0mYwXApwWF59Ekk17fkdepcEMPcd4ISmTrCOQiHSHm1ar4wO8CsWZfFaFONYeo3YqIhmx_vKq2h_LZkTt03LDcWW5XsXv6lheMk_AMZTN3ORA1fLls/s1600/OT-Month1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5rTLz2QIWUSeiRSXY7jOJjU5r0mYwXApwWF59Ekk17fkdepcEMPcd4ISmTrCOQiHSHm1ar4wO8CsWZfFaFONYeo3YqIhmx_vKq2h_LZkTt03LDcWW5XsXv6lheMk_AMZTN3ORA1fLls/s1600/OT-Month1.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i>This is a take off of “<a href="https://medium.com/better-humans/802c49b9141c">Don’t date a girl who travels</a>” and
“<a href="http://sean.terretta.com/dont-date-a-girl-who-reads-charles-warnke">Don’t date a girl who reads</a>”. I recommend reading one of those first because this will make more sense. </i><br />
<i>Obviously there are guy OT’s too, but I wrote
this in the same style as the other articles.</i><br />
<i style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>DISCLAIMER:</b> I am not an Occupational Therapist yet, so this
is written simply from what I know so far.</span></i><br />
<i style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Alternate titles for this could be "Don't date an OT with an Occupational Science background" or "Don't date an OT from Saint Louis University".</span></i><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Don’t date an OT because she won’t be impressed with your
fancy clothes and cool car.</b> She wants to
know what you do. What you care about. She won’t be easily wooed by sweet
nothings and empty conversations. She'll see past your clever one-liners and coy smiles. She craves intimacy and substance. She won't be so easily caught because she has found a better reason to fly. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Don’t date an OT because she’ll talk to everyone she
meets for far too long.</b> People on the bus,
people next to her on the airplane, people in the waiting room. She’ll spend
too much time trying to explain what Occupational Therapy is and what it means
to her. She wants to get to know everyone's story. Small talk isn’t her thing
and she isn’t afraid to ask important questions that require thoughtful
answers. She’ll patiently wait for a response and won’t rush people along even if she's in a hurry. There's always time to listen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Don’t date an OT because she isn’t afraid to cause a
scene.</b> She’ll get in an argument over
person first language, or using the “r” word. She’s sweet but she’s strong. She’s
an advocate. She’s not easily tamed. She’ll point out places that aren’t
accessible for people with disabilities. She might even tell the restaurant
owner that the bathrooms couldn’t be accessed for someone in a wheelchair while
you’re out at dinner. It might make you feel uncomfortable but she doesn’t
care. She’ll tell you if you’re being disrespectful or judgmental because she
understands that people are so complex. There are contexts, situations, and
angles that we cannot see and do not understand from a simple glance. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Don’t date an OT because she knows how fragile life is
and how quickly you can lose something.</b>
She knows that disability is a minority group that anyone can join and in an
instant your life can change. So she won’t want to hear about how mad you are
about your phone breaking or your other frivolous complaints. She knows what is
important in life. She has seen people who have lost it all and still have so
much to give. She knows that the poorest people in the world are those who only
have money. She sees past the materialistic world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Don’t date an OT because she won’t make room for someone
who isn’t as passionate as her.</b> She has so
much enthusiasm for her career, for her clients, for her work and if you don’t
have something equally as fulfilling you’ll feel left out. She loves what she
does and she’ll work too hard. She has fire in her belly that propels her forward in a dizzying tornado of energy. She's a hurricane with a fiercely beating heart who never stops to rest. She won't wait for you. She doesn't wait around for love because she's found it in her career.<br />
<br />
<b>Don't date an OT because there is never an easy answer to give her.</b> She knows that "life is not a problem to be solved but a reality to be experienced". She knows things can't be quantified. She knows that the simple answer is usually not the right answer. She knows that life is so complex and it'll frustrate you to hear her explain theories and explanations about transactionalism and the holistic approach. You can't feed her an easy response. She looks for intelligent conversations and debates that might end in confusion with no clear answer in sight.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Don’t date an OT because she will see the good in
everything. </b>So much so it might get annoying.
She’s optimistic about change and has faith that everyone has the potential to achieve what they want from life. She knows that even though the world is a broken place, it is so beautiful and full of promise. She truly believes she will make the world a better place. </div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com53tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-30354105409784178572014-02-10T22:33:00.004-08:002014-02-10T22:43:13.923-08:00Can't strengthen girls by bashing some<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikvGBrscR7zpfL_ksuWiPCgForq2rZ-DSYSvB2-2m32RGNvIkWPY8JzIvbXTh7j9Q6M86Pd_BzxlTfQWfpp8GjvTaSsbFIITik7vRUykpnq14dnHQvU9R1iyXDXiX5PnP1xFnABoywhJM/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-02-10+at+11.46.46+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikvGBrscR7zpfL_ksuWiPCgForq2rZ-DSYSvB2-2m32RGNvIkWPY8JzIvbXTh7j9Q6M86Pd_BzxlTfQWfpp8GjvTaSsbFIITik7vRUykpnq14dnHQvU9R1iyXDXiX5PnP1xFnABoywhJM/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-02-10+at+11.46.46+PM.png" height="303" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
So I saw this tweet tonight and it made me really mad. I had recently read an article about "thigh gaps" over on <a href="http://catherinethemessenger.wordpress.com/2014/02/05/thigh-gapse-in-judgment/">wordpress</a>. The girl, Catherine, does a good job of explaining what a "thigh gap" is, and how our culture distorts beauty. She does not put down people with thigh gaps, but this tweet really does. I understand that there is a backlash against being skinny, and I definitely understand that the media and our culture needs to expand the image of the ideal woman on TV, in movies, in magazines etc, etc. But that does not mean that skinny girls need to be put down, be called ugly, gross, or "not real women".<br />
<br />
"Real women have curves"is another phrase that has circulated the web and one that is meant to uplift girls with bigger boobs and bigger butts. And good for that! Girls with big boobs and butts are beautiful, they're awesome, but so are girls with flat chests and no butts. With medium boobs and medium butts, with fake boobs and fake butts. With muscular thighs and thin ones.<br />
<br />
This does not mean I endorse any of the girls who praise being thin, who post pictures of skinny girls and put "this is my ideal weight" or "she is my thinspiration". I don't agree with the phrase "nothing feels as good as skinny feels" or any of that bullshit. I don't believe that girls should be photoshopped, edited, or starve themselves to look like the models on the runway. I believe in being healthy. And sometimes healthy girls are skinny. Sometimes they have thigh gaps. Sometimes they have health conditions that prevent them from gaining weight. Sometimes they have high metabolisms and no matter how much they eat they can't gain weight. Sometimes they have anxiety and can't eat because they are too nervous, or throw up because they have panic attacks. Sometimes it's in their genetics and they have the chest of a little boy and the butt to match.<br />
<br />
It hurts me when I see things like this. When people call me "frail". When they accuse me of being anorexic or tell me I'm not eating enough. When they assume that because I'm thin that I agree with everything that "thin" people believe in. No. I don't. I believe that as long as you are mentally and physically aiming for health, that your weight doesn't matter. It's a stupid number. And everyone should stop making girls of different weights feel bad because they don't match up. Everyone should mind their own damn business!<br />
<br />
The thigh gap is not beautiful in itself, but I still believe the girl who belongs to the legs on the left is beautiful. Both pictures are beautiful and we should not try to put down the one girl to make the other girl feel better. That's like saying one girl's dress is hideous to make the other girl feel beautiful. No. Compliment each girl separately and preferably not on their appearance. Because everyone is SO much more than what the scale tells them, or the size of their nose, or the wideness of their shoulders.<br />
<br />
Our media should widen their scope of beauty. But not by bashing some people. We will just continue this vicious cycle of girls feeling inadequate if we tell them that one ideal is okay and the other is not. Often I feel myself wishing I had curves, that I didn't feel like a pole, or a lanky jumble of limbs. And the truth is that I shouldn't be worrying about that at all. I understand that there are many more outlets that praise me for being skinny than those that praise girls for being curvy, but why don't we just abandon that approach all together.<br />
<br />
I don't covet my thigh gap. I don't look for compliments on my stomach or my small wrists. We all need to find love for ourselves beyond our bodies. We won't have them for that long anyways. We are so easily breakable, we will age, we will wrinkle. And if we keep reinforcing physical ideals instead of intellectual and emotional, we will just keep making girls feel shitty about things that they can't control and leave them with more problems to deal with as they realize they can never match up.<br />
<br />
So "you know what's stupid tbh"? Judging people. Comparing people. Putting people down for their physical appearance. Assuming things without getting to know someone. Reinforcing physical beauty above INTERNAL beauty.<br />
<br />
So please think before you comment on someone's appearance. Actual scratch that. Don't comment on their physical appearance. Tell them something that will make them realize they are more than a picture.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-78742914015355302382014-01-10T10:02:00.001-08:002014-01-10T14:58:43.707-08:00Pain is beautyI think it’s really messed up that the first thing I think<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I start crying is whether my make up is ruined</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because that’s what is most important right?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not the reason for crying, but looking okay while upset</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don’t let them know </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wipe away the mascara black stains rolling down your rosy
cheeks</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve become warped by the idea that what I look like is </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The most important part of me</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The compliments that are supposed to make me feel good</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just create this outer shell and destroy what’s inside</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because what’s inside has no worth</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
According to the people who keep reinforcing my face</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instead of my thoughts or my words </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And instead of trying to be the best person I can be</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want to be what ever “pretty” is because that’s what
people want</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They want me to parade around and give them kisses and bend
to their wishes</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But what does being “pretty” mean anyway?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s really not something to “be”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s an empty shell, its flirtatious and coy</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Batting eyelashes and saying sweet nothings</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s not messy, emotional, and clumsy</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pretty isn’t complicated</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s putting on red lipstick and moving on</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And the more I try to be pretty the more it hurts</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I’m not pretty</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m so much more than that</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can never be good enough for someone</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Who only sees me for my face</div>
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Because I’m more than my mascara laden eyes</div>
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And my lip gloss smeared mouth</div>
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If you look at me like someone you want to kiss</div>
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Then I would move on because you’ll be disappointed</div>
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You’ll be disappointed because I’m intelligent and witty</div>
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Because I work words into sculptures and rope them around</div>
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Like a wild rodeo woman and I say things that’ll stop</div>
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You in your tracks and if you want simple and easy</div>
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Then please move on because you don’t deserve me</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-3004326552115673382013-10-28T17:22:00.001-07:002014-02-07T16:16:14.310-08:00Don't worrySomething that I've had trouble realizing is that one decision does not define you.<br />
If you listen to a Justin Bieber or Avril Lavigne song that doesn't make you mainstream or put you in some specific group. If you have a one night stand that doesn't make you a slut. If you have a panic attack and stay in on a Friday night that doesn't make you a recluse loser who has no friends. People aren't so easily defined and doing something bad or risky doesn't mean you have to continue doing that. Just because someone sees you do something doesn't mean you are defined by that action. So what if you go out and act crazy but then next time you are quiet and don't feel like talking. Don't put pressure on yourself to fulfill some role you feel like you have to fulfill. If you are known as the shy girl don't feel like you can't do something loud and obnoxious sometimes because people expect you to be a certain way. Fuck people's expectations and do what you want because you have enough pressure on you as it is without the added pressure to fulfill someone else's image of you.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-48869995887127293682013-10-17T23:15:00.002-07:002013-10-24T08:21:19.960-07:00Everyday<div style="-webkit-transition: all 0.3s ease; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #222222; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; transition: all 0.3s ease; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">use the energy you would spend on regretting, on doing something you want to do today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">use the energy for hating someone or holding a grudge to forgiving and letting go.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">use the energy for worrying on being thankful for the moment and breathing in the simplicity of being.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-58524333009307208742013-10-17T23:12:00.000-07:002015-09-19T16:34:02.994-07:00Wrote this for myself. Need to be reminded sometimes.<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 18px;">The way I see it you have to be able to have fun by yourself. You have to be okay knowing you’ll be lonely sometimes. You’ll have to make the best out of situations that didn’t turn out like you hoped they would. You have to beat off jealousy and self pity because they are easy paths to sadness and not worth it at all. You have to keep yourself from sinking into hopeless daydreams as much as they satisfy you’re longings. You have to stay away from phrases like “What if I would have…”, “I wish…” Instead of wishing and fantasizing, make something happen, anything. It doesn’t have to be a huge extravaganza. Maybe just a walk in a garden with friends. Now a days we see all these lives and people that seem perfect to us on TV, in movies, on Tumblr, on Facebook, and the reality is that you will never be them. Your life will never be a storybook or a romantic comedy. It’s you. You are your life and you are beautiful and unique and one of a kind. So don’t let yourself go to waste waiting for prince charming to kiss you or Noah to write you 365 letters. We live in a time of perfect endings and carefully written characters that always know what to say and always end up madly in love. Reality is beautiful, but it’s not perfectly manicured with background music and cinematic moments. Find the beauty in YOU, in YOUR life. Sit outside and just think, soak it in, you are your own story without an audience, and that’s ok because we don’t need indie photographs to know we had a good time, we don’t need a hundred likes on our profile picture or a bunch of notes to know we are beautiful, we don’t need someone to save us from sadness, we don’t need a significant other to make us whole. We are here. This is it. Don’t wait for approval, don’t wait at all. Start being happy.</span> </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-27036061199734305702013-10-17T23:06:00.001-07:002013-10-17T23:06:58.786-07:00Pistachios<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My grandpa loves pistachios. Every time I went to visit him we would sit and crack them open together. He told me something I haven’t forgotten to this day. He said that the best ones were the ones that were hard to break out of their shells. He would save those for last and then go get the nutcracker to open them up. They took that extra effort but they were worth it. And now I understand he wasn’t just explaining this so I would know which nuts to eat, he was making an analogy for myself. I know I’m not easy to understand, I’m not easy to get at, I don’t warm up right away, and I can be cautious at first, but someone that cares enough to make the extra effort will get what I have to offer and they will be lucky. </span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-46509210806955051512013-10-17T23:05:00.003-07:002013-10-17T23:05:47.469-07:00You have always been here<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you are here now, you have always been here. Everyone begins as a potential existence, the breathe of your father as he chased your mother down in the airport to tell her he loved her, the sun shining down through the clouds making your grandfather realize he needed your grandmother like the crops needed the sun, the bleeding ink in a love letter from your great grandmother to your great grandfather, the sweat, the tears, the glances of love and passion all lead to you. All of those people that happened to fall in love and to have children, all of that love has built up to you. Isn’t that a lovely thought? I know that it all wasn’t true love, it all wasn’t perfect but even the love of other people could’ve influenced something that lead to you. You are more than you. You are everything that has happened, and I like to believe you are everything that will happen too. You are such an intricate, unique combination of moments and smells and sounds so don’t ever think you are just plain old boring you. Everyone that is here today is here because of those little moments when people made decisions and they all lead to this point, where you are, just where you belong. Cherish your moments because they aren’t lost, they will help build someone else someday too. Can’t you hear her laughing? </span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-45628339786422330042013-10-17T23:03:00.001-07:002013-10-17T23:03:09.611-07:00Guts<div style="-webkit-transition: all 0.3s ease; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #222222; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; transition: all 0.3s ease; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why not want it all? Stop holding yourself back. Believe you can change the world, or atleast someone’s world. Stop being afraid of going broke, getting your heart broken, being judged, or feeling anxious. Don’t worry about messing up, making mistakes, failing miserably and being made fun of for having dreams that are too big for your seemingly meager circumstances. Humans are small, look at the stars up there, the sun, the moon are so far away and we are just tiny specks in the scheme of things. So why not have big thoughts and dreams? They will course through your body so hard they make you shake. That’s being alive and once you realize that you’ll feel something so powerful. Not your heart, not your mind, right there in your stomach because you’ll finally realize they are there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Guts. </i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-4365249126309489042013-10-17T23:00:00.001-07:002013-10-17T23:00:17.050-07:00Glowing in the dark<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There’s always going to be someone who’s seventeen and on the brink of their life with a perfect body and the closet of your dreams. There will always be people you hope to be but can never become with perfect boyfriends and no worries. And I know that Hallmark cards always say this and it’s become something sappy and overused but there is only one you. You’re the only one who brought milkshakes to your friends when they were sick with letters decorated with stickers. You’re the only one who used to be scared of everything but now would bungee jump or eat some strange food without thinking twice. You’re the only one who has flying dreams over and over again but wants their super power to be invisibility. You’re the only one who writes on their hand when they get nervous or bites their hangnails when they feel uncomfortable. Maybe other people do or think these things but I guarantee that there is such a unique combination of tiny little things inside you that make you different. Maybe someone kissed your forehead on a Saturday night when you were sick and it made you feel like you were safe so you smiled and made a wish on the glow-in-the-dark stars that one day someone would make you feel like that forever. There’s a freckle on the inside of your right ring finger waiting to be discovered and map of creases on your hands that someone once read and said they indicated you would die in a car crash at 33. But you still drive over the speed limit with the music blaring and the windows down. Life isn’t the experience, you are and that’s what you need to realize. He might break it off at three in the morning leaving you in shambles with his t-shirt on but then someone else will realize that you could never be replaced. It’s hard because we all collide and overlap but we all need to know that we are our own piece of this big, confusing world and without us there could be no finished product to frame and put on the wall. </span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-48810076411533991802013-10-13T23:01:00.000-07:002014-03-10T19:20:23.685-07:00Nothing is safeIt's like you're heading at a wall at 90 mph but the brakes are broken.<br />
It's like you're on the edge of the cliff and your footing isn't steady.<br />
It's not being able to control what might happen.<br />
It's this <i>thing </i>coursing through your body and crippling your mind.<br />
It's butterflies turned into bombs, exploding at any time.<br />
It's nerves into nightmares, taking your thoughts to dark places.<br />
Nothing is safe.<br />
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That's what it feels like when it overcomes me.<br />
Nothing is safe, not even my own body, not even my own mind.<br />
And how am I supposed to trust myself when this could happen at any time?<br />
How can I trust myself when I've said "It'll be okay" a million times?<br />
Just to see how "okay" can turn out to be my head in a toilet<br />
Or my reflection in the mirror with terrified eyes<br />
Begging myself not to fly away<br />
Telling myself to stay on the ground and fight<br />
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But it gets tiring fighting yourself<br />
It takes a toll on your emotions<br />
On your body and your relationships<br />
So you swallow the pills they told you to take<br />
And you meditate with your back against the wall<br />
The therapist tells you to stand tall<br />
<br />
So maybe ignore it, or maybe face it<br />
But "it" should just get the hell out of my life<br />
Because I'm sick of it's sly little smile<br />
Telling me that it can take what's important<br />
And exciting and turn it into fear<br />
<br />
But hope is the only thing stronger than fear<br />
And it's what I've held onto<br />
And what I'll keep holding onto<br />
Maybe molding that fear into something<br />
I can put on my wall and not feel scared<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-56334628780250589072013-10-13T22:38:00.000-07:002013-10-13T22:47:36.478-07:00Why I love Taylor Swift<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUfERHPmdpOuGsfQguittNgtDAObV5q7FVDrHanLSCLZn58rljKYukejjruhV4RNGA8jZHUgzmOoSlgEDRm0Yy0BinOfVZwYVAZHEjbjKlbxR16dBRIOCpAlRqZ3MqfHDEmxWsH4wXTo/s1600/img-taylorswiftyoubelongwithmehq-400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUfERHPmdpOuGsfQguittNgtDAObV5q7FVDrHanLSCLZn58rljKYukejjruhV4RNGA8jZHUgzmOoSlgEDRm0Yy0BinOfVZwYVAZHEjbjKlbxR16dBRIOCpAlRqZ3MqfHDEmxWsH4wXTo/s400/img-taylorswiftyoubelongwithmehq-400.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I remember when I first heard "Ours" and I didn't really like it. I thought it was cheesy and I had never liked songs with a country twang. But soon enough I grew to adore it because it's just one of those songs that you can't help to love, even if you have sophisticated music taste or you show disdain towards anything girly or feel-good. I have a great video of my friend and I singing to it and doing very literal hand motions. It reminds me of those nights when we made stupid videos of anything that made us laugh or songs we loved. And there is also a video of us doing a very emotional rendition of "Teardrops On My Guitar" which is a cute song that can remind anyone of a crush that they desperately wanted to notice them. It's riddled with that sappy teenage girl angst, "he's a song in the car I keep singin' don't know why I do". I guarantee everyone had a crush like this when they were fifteen or sixteen, and maybe he or she made you cry, maybe you kept liking them even though you knew it was a lost cause. The songs on her first album are country fluff and innocent pop diddies but I don't care if they might lack emotional depth and true meaning because they are the kinds of songs that you like when you're in High School and you still want to be a carefree kid and yet you're imagining yourself falling in love and boys are starting to become a bigger part of your life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"Love Story" was my second favorite song for a long time (after "Float On" by Modest Mouse). Like every little girl, I don't care if you didn't play with dolls or you cut your Barbie's hair, you wanted to be a princess. Maybe a badass princess that fought off dragons, but every little girl wants to be that special person in someone's life. The cliche princess falling in love with a prince story is a cliche for a reason. I know I've written and imagined so many princess stories and the melody of this song is just so indescribably catchy and fun to sing, "baby just say yes". It's a versatile song that I've listened to while staring out the window on a road trip or screamed with my friends on a Friday night while we had the windows down and nothing on our minds but the darkened road in front of us. "You'll never have to be alone", those words don't have to be a boy's, to me they are my friends beside me. All of us trying to navigate being a teenage girl in the complicated web of High School and rumors and boys.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"You Belong With Me" makes me smile with the first beginning chords. I remember driving to "teen clubs" with my friends and just screaming it at the top of our lungs. "Been here all along, so why can't you see?! You belong with me!" Every girl has thought this about a boy at one point in their life. Also this song's beat is impossible to resist. If you have a heart, if you remember your youth, if you've ever danced around your room singing into a hairbrush, you know exactly the feeling that this song gives you. It's like bouncing up and down on your bed, spinning in your favorite dress, looking at your friends hair blowing in the wind and singing off-key. These songs are my memories, from a time when I had no idea who I was or what I was doing, when the world was pressing against me from all sides, and they were simple. They were these minutes of simple happiness that made me feel things that maybe I didn't on an ordinarily dull school day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">These songs might be primarily about guys, but songs like "Fifteen" explain more than falling in love. They have that edgy innocence, the feelings of naivete and heartbreak when you realize that people lie and deceive you in order to get what they want. Sure these songs made me want a boyfriend, but what doesn't these days? Taylor never promoted having boyfriends, she was simply telling her stories and even looking into the future hoping for relationships that would make her a better person.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm not excluding guys, because I think guys can like her music too, but obviously coming from a girl's point of view I think Taylor is singing for all of us girls. She has such a good way of putting these lyrics that seem like they are from her diary (and she writes her OWN songs so this is sort of true) into these happy, heartfelt songs that make things make sense or even if they don't make sense I feel like my own feelings have meaning. That's why Taylor is so popular, she makes you feel like she's sharing something personal and it makes you feel like you can share your stories too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"Fearless" will never get old, every time I listen to it I want to be braver and bolder. The album with the same name is probably my favorite of them all. "Best Day" is also on this album and it is the sweetest song about childhood and the bond between mother and daughter. My mom cried listening to it, and I put it in a video of clips of my mom and I for mother's day one year. Needless to say it was hit and I watch it sometimes when I need to reminded how much I'm loved and how lucky I was to have a happy childhood. "I had the best days with you." I started liking this song around the same time I was looking into colleges and it was a nice reminder of my past and how I got to the place I was with the family I had.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">"Never Grow Up" on the "Speak Now" album is a similar song, but is just generally about how the world changes you as you get older. I think the message of staying young and not rushing into being an adult is important these days when I feel like the ages for doing adult things become younger and younger. "Enchanted" is one of my favorites from this album, it's about that first meeting between two people and how that connection can be instant. This album is more contemplative and not as peppy but it was still a nice accompaniment through my last remnants of High School. My senior quote was actually from "Innocent", "Today is never too late to be brand new". I think it's such a nice idea, because going through High School we are so scared of making mistakes, but we are going to, it's a given. So much pressure is put on us, we are supposed to figure out our whole lives, and we're seen as almost-adults but were so confused. We do stupid things and we don't take chances or we take paths that lead us away from who we really are, and sometimes we can't help to think "Wasn't it beautiful when you believed in everything and everybody believed in you?" "Lost your balance on a tightrope, but it's never too late to get it back".</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">Taylor's newest album "Red" shows her maturity, it shows her growth and her versatility. Even though my friends and I are older we still rock out to her songs like teenage girls. We can still unload those feelings of pent up emotion and frustration about all the things in our lives that are still so similar to High School (because face it people in college are not much more mature). All the people who have started to hate her lately because it's a cool fad, and "she's not country!" or "she dates so many people!" (btw this does not make her slut you don't know about her sex life), or "she's so annoying!" Yes, I don't know her personally but I do know that she is independent (writes her own music etc), she gives a good image which is hard to find these days, and everyone who says they hate her music are the ones who are dancing around their rooms with it blasting in their earbuds, or they should be because I think it would lighten them up a little bit. It's not a guilty pleasure because I don't think you need to feel guilty. It's wholesome goodness that I'm not ashamed to love.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">I have friends who have gotten through breakups with her music, who have used it to battle their illness, and I know I have personally used it as a mood elevator. It has made me feel better so many times and it's brought me together with friends and brought myself happiness. "22" is that song basically saying "screw everyone and dance with your friends" which is a good motto going through your twenties because sometimes everything is just so tangled up and messed up and pressures on a different kind of way than in your teens. But turning on Taylor Swift always makes me feel like I'm riding in the car with my best friends and we don't care about our destination, but just the wind in our faces and the music blasting. Her music will always make me think of dancing around my childhood bedroom forgetting about my anxiety, or college apps or stupid crushes. It makes me feel like "everything will be alright if we just keep dancing" and it's that cheesy escape that every girl (or guy) needs sometimes. There's a time and place for Bon Iver or other artists with complex emotions, but his songs are all about "Emma" right? </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">Whether she's writing a song about a little boy who died of cancer, "Ronan" or a song for "Hunger Games" about war and tragedy, she has other songs besides the ones about guys.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">Now I'm going to go listen to "I Knew You Were Trouble" and forget about my two tests and paper for a little while. You should try it, cause Taylor can be a cure for those Sunday Blues.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">~~Rachael</span></span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-31840237050363047942013-09-20T17:19:00.003-07:002014-04-20T18:02:41.022-07:00Advice if someone with anxiety/depression/another mental disorder opens up to youIf someone opens up to you about their problems with their mental disorder IT IS REALLY FUCKING HARD FOR THEM. Please realize this and don't see it as a burden, look at it as flattery because they trust you. They trust you enough to let you see into their mind and the see the vulnerable parts of their mind no less. I have learned from talking to many friends and family about my own problems and their responses and I know what is good to hear and what really sucks. So I just thought I would share my thoughts.<br />
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1. <b>ACKNOWLEDGE THEIR PAIN.</b> Don't brush it away, do not say "oh you'll get over it" or "that doesn't sound too bad". This is a big deal for them and they want you to see that it is important and that they have a right to feel the way they do. It's not even that they have a right to feel the way they do, they are FORCED to feel that way. And many people with mental disorders probably do not go about it the right way but they did not choose this. Even saying, "Omg that sucks," is not a bad thing to say. We want to feel like you understand we're going through a tough time.<br />
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2. <b>Let them know that it is NOT embarrassing.</b> Mental disorders have a huge stigma and I have struggled with this for a long time. I have always been embarrassed about the anxiety that I have felt and this has made it exponentially worse. Just like it is not someone's fault if they lose a leg and can't walk properly, it is not someone's fault if the serotonin levels are off in their brain and they cannot socialize properly. Do not judge them, and it would be super helpful if you said that "it's normal to feel this way" or "well just know that i'll never judge you if you have to leave during a party". This will take a huge load off of our shoulders, trust me. The best response I've gotten when I was having a panic attack was "Don't you dare be embarrassed, this is not embarrassing and it's okay."<br />
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3. <b>Do not say to "get over it", or "you're overreacting", "that's ridiculous"</b>, or tell them to just do whatever they can't do, "just be happy", "just calm down". THIS IS COMPLETELY UNHELPFUL AND WE ALREADY FUCKING REALIZE THAT WE NEED TO GET OVER IT BUT WE CAN'T. Sorry for the caps but this is by far the worst thing you could say to somebody. If we could get over it, we would've already. We can't and we are reaching out because we cannot try alone anymore, or we can't keep hiding it from you. Trust me if I could just calm down and be a chill person who never panicked or got anxious I WOULD. Nobody wants to feel the feelings that come along with any mental disorder so don't you dare tell us to "get over it" because holy balls we would if we could OK.<br />
<br />
4. In response to number 3. <b>There are things that you can suggest. </b>Therapy is a huge one. It also has a stigma but a great podcast lately has revealed that it doesn't need to be-- <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/slate-magazine-daily-podcast/id75089978?mt=2">Slate's Meltdown U</a>. It just makes you realize how common mental disorders are and that going to a counselor/therapist is totally normal. I'm sure some of your friends have gone but you just don't know. Suggest helping them find a counselor in the area or at the university (if you're at one). Checking up on them and making sure they are looking into it will be really helpful.<br />
<br />
5. <b>Don't treat them any differently after they tell you about their struggles.</b> Except for being extra understanding about some situations that can arise, and knowing that they want to hang out with you or do things that you want them to do but they just might have to go about it in a different way. Keep inviting them to things but give them an escape route so they don't feel trapped, like in social situations tell them that you'll leave with them early if they feel anxious or they can go to the bathroom to calm down. Realize that they need to take small steps and encourage them and congratulate them for taking those small steps. Not like a little kid or a dog, but say they join a club but they have social anxiety and they go to meetings, be like "that's really great that you're doing that". We very rarely get rewarded for our mental obstacles because they seem trivial to those who don't understand but they are a big deal to us and it can be nice to be told that we're doing well. Just like a therapist encourages their patient after they take a step or stand up, we sometimes like things like that.<br />
<br />
6. <b>No pity.</b><br />
<br />
7. <b>Just generally try to be understanding.</b> Don't try to fix everything or suggest a million ideas. We just want to be understood, isn't that what everyone wants? We also don't want to feel like we are bothering you or making you uncomfortable so let us know if you are open to talking about it. Bring it up in conversation, "How's your anxiety?" It's actually nice to know that you care enough to ask and it'll be nice to unload for a little. It also makes our anxiety (or other problems) seem like they are normal, like a breakup or a broken leg. It'll make us realize it's not a huge secret we need to hide and be ashamed of. Sometimes it can be a lot though, depending on the situation, so I know there is a line between knowing too much and not knowing anything. But most people feel like they can't talk about it and try to hide it, so talking about it is usually a good thing and suggesting a conversation about it lets us know that you don't mind talking about it.<br />
<br />
8. <b>We are more than our problems.</b> Our problems can sometimes overcome us and seem to be consuming our personalities at times but we are firstly your friend, or sibling, or daughter, or son and <i>we are that person</i> even with these struggles.<br />
<br />
I know it's sometimes hard to know what to say or do, but trying to put yourself in our place or relating it to a struggle you've had will help you realize how to handle it. Listening is always good.<br />
<br />
I'll end with one of my favorite quotes:<br />
<br />
"The fact that you're struggling doesn't make you a burden. It doesn't make you unloveable or undesirable or undeserving of care. It doesn't make you too much or too sensitive or too needy. It makes you human. Everyone struggles. Everyone has a difficult time coping, and at times, we fall apart. During these times, we aren't always easy to be around--and that's okay. No one is easy to be around one hundred percent of the time. Yes, you may sometimes be unpleasant or difficult. And yes, you may sometimes do or say things that make the people around you feel helpless or sad. But those things aren't all of who you are and they certainly don't discount your worth as a human being. The truth is that you can be struggling and still be loved. You can be difficult and still be cared for. You can be less than perfect, and still be deserving of compassion and kindness." -Daniell Koepke<br />
<br />
I'd also like to add that you can still be a badass bitch. So just saying.<br />
<br />
Love you all!<br />
<br />
~~RachaelAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-70593797897752887692013-09-17T23:02:00.003-07:002013-09-17T23:02:38.538-07:00Part V: Inside Outside EverywhereThere’s something small inside me<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He’s growing everyday and it scares <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me that he is fragile just like you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And he won’t have your name<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because that’s yours and he’ll<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Be someone new but <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His bedtime stories<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Will have you as the hero<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Defeating evil and living<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In his mind like a <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Legend that you never<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Got to become, but <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You will be here with<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Him when I tell the same<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Riddles and kiss him on<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His sweaty, feverish forehead<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Late at night, like I did to <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You when mom told you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To go back to bed and<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You know she never meant<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To be mean but she wanted<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You to be ready to live<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On your own but maybe<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s good that the world <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Never broke you and <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m so scared it’ll break him<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that he’ll outgrow you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not that I want the same<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ending for him that you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Had in your life but if<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He outgrows you he will <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Outgrow my expectations<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For little boys and I know<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That I’m not naming him <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After you but I want him <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To be like you, in a <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Different way but not too<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Different because his feet will<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One day be the same size as yours<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Were the day when dad had to<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Take your shoes off and he put <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Them away neatly even though<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He knew you would never <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wear them again and one<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Day he’ll be exactly the same<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Age down to the seconds<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of when you left us<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then he might surpass<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You and I’ll just wonder<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The whole time why he got<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To live on and you didn’t<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not in a bad sort of way<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But in a way that just makes<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me want all little boys<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To get bigger feet and outgrow <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Their clothes and to stop <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wetting the bed and he <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Might get older than you and<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Taller than the pencil mark<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the old kitchen entry way<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I can’t carry him around<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Like I carry you in my head<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s just not supposed to be<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This way and I wish I knew<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why it was this way so<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I could tell him why his<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Uncle died the night we<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Were supposed to go <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Get ice cream and see<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A movie and play Monopoly<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With his favorite red shoes<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On and why I couldn’t<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Have saved him and <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Let him have the rest<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of his life like I’m <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Giving this life to the <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stranger in my stomach<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why can I give without<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Trying but I couldn’t try<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hard enough to give you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My hand as you slipped down<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And fell and your hand was<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Little like his will be in mine<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Like it was supposed to be<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yours in mine that time<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the woods with the sound<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of the rushing water<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Telling me that life <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Was going by in the face<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of yours stopping <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And after seeing that<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Replay over and over<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One day I’ll see new life<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instead of death replay<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And maybe<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’ll begin again<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-7690652026341540672013-09-17T23:01:00.004-07:002013-09-17T23:01:56.762-07:00Part IV: Looking up Everything was different after you died and I’m afraid I
can’t remember exactly what it was like while you were alive. Mom and Dad tell
me I’ve gotten some stories wrong and I can’t make out clear pictures of
certain memories. Maybe I should’ve written it all down right after you died
when my memory was freshest. I should’ve typed up a detailed report of your
life but I was only eleven and I still would’ve forgotten details. How do you
put a person on paper? How can you possibly do that?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
can’t come to terms with the fact that I might forget some parts of you.
Whoever said it gets easier was wrong because it doesn’t and thirteen years
later I still want you here even if you were bitter about life and never made
jokes. It just kills me that I’ll never know who you would’ve become. And I’ve
been waiting around for you. I still do it even though I understand the reality
of death by now. Well, actually I don’t think I’ll ever understand it, but I
know that people die everyday and they never come back. The world doesn’t stop,
the newspaper still keeps coming and people still laugh like it doesn’t matter
to them that you died. They used to make me mad. Like the sound of their
laughing was directed at you and in a weird way I’m disappointed that I’ve
stopped with all of my habits. I’ve given up in a way, but mostly given up on
myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
wonder if you would like my boyfriend. I don’t think you would because you were
always so jealous of my male friends and wanted to be the only boy in my life.
You are and you always will be don’t worry. We don’t really care too much about
each other, this guy and me. Were both just lonely and we’ve both lost someone
close to us. So I guess that’s why we can’t care about each other. Nothing’s
forever and I wish I would’ve known that before you got taken away from me. When
everything was changing around me you were the only one I could count on. I
guess I can still count on you, just in a different sort of way.<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-41181060018926273372013-09-17T23:01:00.000-07:002013-09-17T23:01:18.910-07:00Part III: Landed on the stars I can’t believe what I did last night. I can’t even write it
down it’s so vile but it’s what girls my age do and what boys our age persuade
us to do. I don’t think you would make girls do things like that for you,
though. I know that when someone dies, so young especially, we all make them
out to be such perfect angels even when maybe they weren’t and maybe you
would’ve lost your innocence and been corrupted by the vulgar boys on the bus.
Maybe you would’ve figured out why our cousin stopped showing up at
Thanksgiving and the reason mom and dad didn’t let us watch the news. I guess
I’m torn between wanting you here with me and being glad the pain is over and
that no one will ever break your heart and the world you had in your mind won’t
be torn apart. Mine was, and even more so after you left because my world
always had you in it.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don’t
worry though it wasn’t your fault for my world being destroyed. I guess it was
the world’s fault, for being how it is. Just know that sometimes the only
reason I smile is because if you are watching from somewhere I don’t want you
to feel bad for your absence making me sad. You need to know you didn’t leave
me with darkness. I kept, and am still keeping so much light from you that I
try to give to others but sometimes I selfishly take a bunch for myself. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I know that I can’t change when or
how you left because it’s yours. Just like the color of your eyes, hazel, and
the freckles on your nose, seven. It was your departure and it’s part of you,
the you that will forever be you. <o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
don’t know if you’ve grown up or if you still can’t do multiplication. I don’t
know if you read those gross magazines that boys hide under their mattresses. I
just wish I knew. I hope when we meet again somehow it’ll just be like it was
before and maybe I’ll get my innocence back and you’ll still have yours. We can
look at the stars and still think one day we’ll climb high enough to pick them
like apples and we’ll carry out our plan to save the world. I hope you still
fit in the batman costume. I’ll wear your red cape.<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145978431046628785.post-8356245146083024342013-09-17T23:00:00.002-07:002013-09-17T23:04:02.707-07:00Part II: FloatingYou probably still wonder why that man killed the dog<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That one night we were on a hiking path in the woods<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And he just kept beating it until it stopped making
squealing noises<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mom and Dad told you he was sick and on drugs that made him
mad<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But you still wondered sometimes why someone would do that<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And why there were little boys who were just like you, but
so hungry and sad<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You wrote to Santa telling him to take the cookies to feed
them and<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The toys for them to smile even though there would be none
for you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you got older you wanted to travel the world and climb
giant rocks<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You loved everything big and stuff that took you closer to
the sky<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you got old enough you would find a girl and she would be
lucky<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because once you loved someone they were all yours<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You would protect them against anyone and shield<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Them from the terrors that they cry about at night<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You always had thoughts about the world and I wonder<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you were still here what you would be learning in school<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In my science class my teacher told us that there is this
thing called<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Potential energy and if a ball is at the top of the slide it<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Has so much potential energy even though it’s just sitting
there<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It hasn’t gone down the slide but it still has something<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I asked her that since you never grew up if that energy<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Was still floating around somewhere or where it went<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And she looked at me strangely not knowing what to <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Say because most people don’t when I bring you up<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Except to say sorry but that’s not what I wanted to hear<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And so I stopped her in the middle and said that energy<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Was neither created nor destroyed so how could my<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Brother’s energy be destroyed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It couldn’t, could it?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She asked Jen to take me to the office but I said I <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Didn’t do anything wrong and I just needed to know<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If it was still out there because maybe I could find it<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And put it in a jar and keep it on my shelf and maybe<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You would still be with us sometimes instead of <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your ashes in an urn on the cabinet that only make<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Us all feel sad and depleted your energy could<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lift us all up and maybe make us fly<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18267469128016348411noreply@blogger.com0