It Will Be Here Soon—I Promise!!!

That’s right, I’m uploading the Inspirational Music Video of the Week tonight/this morning. I actually should get some sleep, since I have to work in the morning… but you know what, I feel like someone needs it right now. (Has someone in mind)

I won’t spoil what it is until I have it on Youtube (which will take roughly 20 mins if I’m lucky), but I will say it is nostalgic of my childhood, and has always had an impact on me—especially the beautiful video which tells a heartwrenching story that you will wish you could read more of. However, the reason it leaves off the way it does, in my opinion, is because **************SPOILERS. Never mind***********************

So anyway. I’m going to eat noodles and wait for it to load. Aaaaaaaaaaaand I won’t be lucky (will probably an hour. Oops. No sleep tonight).


Never Been This Happy to be This Tired

I’m home from work, making something to eat before I pass out. I have a feeling that I will sleep well tonight. Everything is going to be okay. I’ve weathered this storm, and, although I’m not out of it, I can see the sun peaking through the clouds ahead. And I think I’ll pray tonight about my dreams. I work again tomorrow, and sleeping worth nothing won’t help me perform well. I need to sleep like the dead– not dream of them.

I hope my appetite comes back, too. Over the past month, ever since I lost my job, I not was not only unable to sleep well, but eat, as well. If my mom and my boyfriend hadn’t fed me, I would have probably eaten once per two days– as it was, I was eating perhaps once or twice a day. Light-headed-ness is commonplace, as is constant fatigue and the inability to eat more than a few bites at a time, most times.

That is coming from the person who can eat like a pig normally. I am a speedy and vicious eater. Eating is my comfort– and I pretty much stopped eating altogether, something I never thought I would do. I just didn’t desire food, and knew that all I had was ramen. Ramen is good, you know, but when you eat it every meal for weeks it gets really gross. I realized I could barely taste anything I ate anymore. I was depressed, and comfort food was no longer an option. I have lost weight! I looked in the mirror this morning and did a double take. I look good! Not emaciated, just slightly less pudgy.

Anyway, I’m mostly just typing so I don’t fall asleep and let the pot boil itself empty. But I’m shaking too hard to fall asleep– why am I shaking?!– so I don’t need to worry.

So, thank you to everyone who has supported me! You really have no idea how much it means to me. I feel like I am part of a family, here. I have been welcomed– something that I practically never feel in real life (other than meeting my in-laws. I am blessed in that aspect).

“What Are You Thinking?”

Frequently, in the middle of anything I’m doing, whether it be enjoying a vacation that my boyfriend’s family was kind enough to invite me to, or sitting back playing video games, or writing, or drawing, or singing, hell—anything—I will suddenly think of something admittedly minute and pitiful from my childhood that still causes doubt and fear in me. As explored in other posts, I am extremely awkward—so much so, in fact, that most of my childhood memories involving interaction caused me almost physical pain with how depressingly fumbling they were.

Now, I was sitting in my living room, eating my breakfast of spaghetti and hot chocolate (go on and laugh, it was really good) and suddenly my satisfaction was sapped away. Why? Flashbacks. Angered that it would strike so early in my day, I decided I would do something about it. And the only thing I know to do is to finally talk to someone about it. The one true secret I’ve ever kept from anyone: Why I hate myself so much.

Now, some of these things might make you laugh—and that is exactly why I don’t share them. I remember these instances and immediately face-palm or threaten myself. I’ve tried everything to make the memories  not affect me so, but it is not just an uphill battle—it is like fighting a giant—and that only works in anime and movies. I don’t have jetpacks, a gun, or anything that would threaten someone even three inches taller than me—especially if it is something in my head. I am, I suppose, my own greatest enemy. But, clichés aside, I suppose I must quit stalling and come clean.

Instance one:

I was in kindergarten, and the teacher asked the class if penguins had fur or feathers. I raised my hand and said fur. The teacher seemed a bit skeptical and asked how I knew that, and I said… (internal wincing) “My stuffed cat, Ridona, told me.” I have no idea what possessed me to say that, but it caused great amusement for everyone else. I sat there, holding back tears as everyone laughed and made fun of me. I suppose that answer was easier to tell the teacher than “The way you asked the question made me wonder if you were trying to make us say feathers, so you could explain why we were wrong.” In other words, I overthought it, and said the first thing that came to mind, rather than try to explain why.

Instance two:

I was in elementary school, probably third grade. Growing up poor is never fun, as I’m sure many people know (duh). It’s even less fun when your hand-me-down pants are too small for your rapidly growing body. I remember being in the stall, trying to get my pants up after using the bathroom, and I had to jump around to get the jeans over my thighs. I jumped awkwardly and hit the door—and behind the door was a group of snobby fashion-prick girls, and when I hit that door, they couldn’t contain themselves. They laughed, and I realized they had been watching me, God knows why, and had seen me jumping around and grunting, trying to stuff my growing figure into my jeans. I emerged hurriedly, already crying, and ran out of the restroom in shame. Since then, I never use public restrooms unless I absolutely have to.

Sorry if this post seemed to be more like, “I hate my life and I’m a terrible pathetic person, wah, wah, wah” but that was not my aim. My aim was to finally, and without fear, put some instances of my personal torment out for anyone to see—so that way I won’t feel as ashamed anymore. These things are stupid—I know that—and not worth crying over, and yet for the past ten + years of my life, they have caused me much grief—and there are many more! If I think of any others, I will post them as well, if it doesn’t bother anyone. These are things that I haven’t even told my mother—and I hesitate to talk to my boyfriend about, because I know what his reaction will be: “That was a long time ago, it means nothing, you should just laugh about it.” but it’s hard to laugh about something that even  now keeps you in a stranglehold.

Anyway, wish me luck! I have much to do today, and not much optimism left after having thought about those things so thoroughly. When I come home, I hope to see some responses. Am I the only one with these tiny little thorns in my brain, or is it common? Anyway, I am going to go sing “Tied My Hands” by Seether until I feel better, because I really love that song, and singing is proven to make you feel better—I’ve tested it out since I was young(er).

Until later, The Understandably Xenophobic Nina Crowlace