Reflection : Gay

I’m a girl, and I’m in love with a girl.

A lot of people would view this as wrong, or unholy, or something of the sort, but I don’t think it is. You know why?

I don’t label myself as gay, or bisexual, or, of course, straight, I don’t put any labels on myself, I just don’t fall in love with someone’s genitals, I fall in love with someone’s soul. That’s why they’re called soulmates. I love them for their soul, the song in their heart and the words they speak and the way they think and the things they say to me, at 4 AM when I’m an insomniac, and the way they put up with me through all my shortcomings. I love them for these things, not for their gender.

Ramble : How Social Anxiety Feels

I have extreme social anxiety. I have a social disorder. And no-one ever seems to understand why I don’t like leaving my home. So I’m going to write this post.

Imagine you’re standing in a pool. When you’re at home, by yourself, you can sit at the bottom of this pool and not worry about everything. Every person near you adds just a little water to the pool. Some people a lot more than others. When you go to big events, where there’s lots and lots of people, the pool will fill up. It will go up past your head, and you can’t swim, so you’ll be gasping for air and terrified and trying to paddle to the surface, but more people just keep coming and coming so more water will go into your metaphorical pool until you can’t breathe. And that’s the part of social functions where I retreat into the bathroom to have a panic attack. This happens about 99.999% of the time I go to social functions.

Any other socially anxious people who can relate?

Reflection : Christmas

Christmas isn’t a day, it’s a feeling. It’s the taste of hot chocolate, it’s the laughter that makes your chest hurt, and it’s the stupid family traditions you have, that you’ve done as long as you can remember. It’s the love from your family, or your friends, or whatever little tribe you choose to spend it with.

Christmas is the embodiment of love, and laughter, and all the best things about love and life.

Sorry for the bit of a ramble there. In closure, I wish you a belated Merry Christmas.

Ramble : Gay Rights

I’ve been seeing a whole lot about this, and I wanted to ramble here for a minute about it. I’m straight, so this whole gay rights thing doesn’t affect me personally, but I have some gay friends, and it’s been upsetting me on their behalf. I have some stuff to tell people who don’t support gay rights.

Honestly, if you don’t like gay people, why does it matter?

If, for some stupid reason, you think they’re going to Hell for finding love, then let them.

If you don’t like gay people, then don’t kiss a gay person.

Why should a court have to vote on whether or not it’s okay for two people to love each other, and to be recognized as a couple? A man has gotten married to a video game girl, a man has gotten married to a dog, and two humans, two people, still can’t legally marry in most places? If it makes the people involved happy, why does it matter? They’re not impacting you. Their being gay doesn’t affect you in any way whatsoever.

Stop spreading bigotry. Start spreading love.

Ramble : Religion

If you’re religious, and you’re so committed to that you don’t want to read other’s opinions, that’s amazing, and I’m jealous of you, and I think you might not want to read this. I have some other lovely posts in the sidebar, if you’d like those.

If you’re not, or if you’re curious, keep reading.

This issue has been weighing me down. I’ve wrote three songs, numerous journal entries, and now I’m reviving this almost dead blog to ramble about it here.

I’m agnostic. I like to define this as not having enough proof to make a choice either way. I don’t think there’s enough proof as to the existence of a divine being, but I’m open to that idea, if you can prove it. I’m sorry, it’s 3 AM, I really shouldn’t be typing this now. I apologize in advance if I get a bit nonsensical.

So, you’re taught from the time you’re a tiny kid, if you live in a family like mine, that there’s a God. He’s this big dude in the sky who controls everything. And He loves you.

I’ve always put a red flag up there.

When I love someone, it means I want them to be happy. It means I would do anything for that happiness. It means I would help them if they were cold or starving or anything like that.

So, back to the story. He loves you. Apparently, the reason we all suffer is because of two idiots who listened to Satan a long, long time ago.

What about forgiveness?

Doesn’t the bible preach forgiveness? The sins of the father, and all of that? He never thought to introduce us back to the garden of Eden, maybe after Noah’s flood, start all over?

But that’s not my qualm.

I’m going to go back to the love.

He loves us, apparently.

But yet He let my Aunt and Uncle, whom have attended church every day for their entire lives, whom live and breathe the bible, have their baby die at ten days old. What sense is there in that? If He loves them, why would he do that? What purpose would he have for a baby? He needed to take a baby up to Heaven? Why? What about my little brother, who was born with Autism so severe he’s eleven and can barely speak and will never be able to drive or read or date or do anything without having someone by his side, helping him every step. What sense is there in that? What reason? What about birth defects? What did those babies do?

I think the main reason people like religion, is because they like meaning being given to their life. I’m jealous of religious people. I have to live with a permanent existential crisis, wondering what worth there is in anything I do at any time at any day because I’m not religious.

I am still being dragged to church by my family, who refuse to believe that more church visits won’t cure me of my state as an agnostic, like it’s some terrible disease. I remember once the Pastor mentioned how God was telling the congregation to go provide fund relief to hurricane victims or something like that a few years ago. If God wanted them helped, why didn’t He stop the hurricane? He can do anything. Why not that? Why not cease all this needless suffering?

I honestly want an answer. I’m posting this as much to see what the answers are as I am to ramble. If you have an answer, let me know below. Who knows, you might just cure me of my agnosticism. My family would be eternally grateful.

Ramble : The End of The World

Sometimes things happen and people change when you don’t want them to, and two words(it’s over) might make you feel like your whole world has imploded and nothing will ever be the same.

This happened to me.

Two months ago, a former best friend decided she had had enough with my social anxiety, and that she had better best friend candidates. She told me I should never speak to her, and that if I did I would just make it harder for her. She then went out of her way to post overtly happy statuses on every single social media site we saw each other on saying, just moments after she sent me those messages,(yes, she told me that over a Skype message) that she was so happy with her new bestie.

And that hurt. It hurt so much I could barely feel anything but that aching hurt.

I felt, for the next few days, a peculiar kind of loneliness. I felt like a part of me was incomplete, I would be laughing about something and, if I was alone when I was laughing, I would suddenly start crying, because I realized that I would have normally then shared it with her.

I have always cared too much, too easily, and too quickly. I am one of the most sensitive people you will ever meet, I get really sad over the simplest things, but I pretend to be so nonchalant that people think I don’t care about anything. But, back to the end of the world.

I went through life like a ghost, on auto-pilot. I tried not to think of her during the day, but she would enter my dreams at night, and it was terrible.

For a teenager, this can honestly seem like the worst thing that could ever happen.

It did for me.

I felt like nothing would ever be the same. Like I had just lost the best part of my life.

This month, I’m doing a writing thing, to write a novel in a month.

Just a week or a week and a half ago, I posted a thread on our local forum : teens from (where I live). Where I live is right outside a relatively big city which encompasses an area that would take about an hour to drive through if you’re driving about 40 MPH, so I didn’t expect to find many other teens near me, considering my dad is the only person who can drive me, and he’s a busy single dad, so anything over fifteen minutes away is a bit long to ask him to drive.

A girl posted, just a couple of sentences, but I had to check her username a couple of times to make sure it wasn’t me who had posted it. It was so like me. I have never clicked something as fast as I did her profile in my life.

She lives a mile from me, 3 minutes at most.

We have everything in common but our height – even our favorite drink, our favorite podcast, and being born exactly the same amount of days before our due date. We knew just two days after we met we were soul sisters.

And now we get together every couple of days to write, and watch old movies, and laugh. And I don’t feel lonely.

I already know her better than I knew my ex-best friend, and it’s only been 7-10 days since I met her.

The message in this ramble?

I read a quote by Winston Churchill, I think, ‘If you’re going through hell, keep going.’

I want to remind all of you, going through a terrible breakup, either with a best friend or someone you love, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. It may take months, it may take years, and you may feel so so lonely right now that you feel like you will never feel like you did again, but you will find someone. You will find someone so much better, and it will work out.

The reason I posted that thread was because of my loneliness, and look what happened.

I’m sorry, this was rambly, but you were forewarned by the blog name. Your regularly scheduled (who am I kidding? I have the most irregular blog schedule of any blogger I know) blog posts about mostly happy things will return after this one, probably.

Keep going, guys. It will get better. I promise.

I love you.

Ramble : The State of This World

Sometimes, when you’re watching the news, or talking about the latest kidnapping case or trial going on in hushed tones, like whoever the suspect is might be watching, it can seem like everyone is evil, everyone is out to get you, the state of this world is pretty crummy.
But it balances this out when you see things like this old couple at my grandmother’s nursing home, the man always, without fail, pulls the chair out for his wife, and then he sits down and smiles at her while he eats, and refers to her in conversation as ‘the love of his life’. And little children – little children haven’t had sufficient time to be polluted by evil, this is why I love my younger brother so much, the other day, we were just talking, and he looked up at me, and he said ‘I want to marry you.’ And then, earlier, my sister and her friend were joking, and the friend said ‘nobody likes you’, and my little brother stood up and said ‘I do! I love you!’. It’s things like my little brother, and that old couple, that make me smile everyday, and strengthen my thoughts that maybe the state of this world isn’t too bad, maybe the good can outweigh the evil if we just try hard enough.
In conclusion, when I see things like that old couple, or my little brother, I don’t think the state of the world is as bad as it’s hyped up to be.

Reflection : Tell Them That You Love Them

It was a dreary Tuesday,  one and a half years ago, when my Grandpa came over to drop off some dessert my Grandma had cooked for my family. I was in my room, on my laptop, typing something on my computer. I think it was a story. Or I was IMing a friend. Either way, I knew my Grandpa was there, but I deemed whatever I was doing too important to go down and say hi. Besides, he’s just going to be here for a minute. I’ll see him next Tuesday.

I didn’t see him next Tuesday. He died that Saturday. And the last time he was in my house, I didn’t even bother to leave my room to go down and tell him, for one last time, that I loved him.

I have felt guilty about that for two years. I still feel so, so guilty, and I think this is a guilt I will carry with me until I myself die. Just because of that two minute event where I deemed my friend or my writing was more important than my family.

This is why I want you to tell them that you love them. When’s the last time you told your family members you loved them? Your aunt, your uncle, your cousin, even your dad or mom or brother or sister or niece or nephew? I bet, as you get older, you don’t say ‘I love you’ much anymore, you don’t feel it’s needed. That’s the case with most of my family. But please, take advantage of this time, you only have so many opportunities to remind them that you love them, to give them a hug. So right now, go call that family member you keep meaning to call but you haven’t talked to in months. Call them, and make sure to tell them you love them. Go ahead. This blog post will be right here when you get back.

You better have just gotten off the phone. Now, you know that whatever happens, you won’t be mad at yourself if the inevitable happens, you won’t have to tell yourself ‘why didn’t I call them? I meant to call them! I was planning on it. But I just never got around to it.’

Make a point to tell people you love them, because you never know if this will be the last time you’ll be able to tell them.

Ramble : Forgiveness

Do you remember that person who you’re still, despite everything, secretly mad at? That boy who broke up with you when you were in seventh grade? That girl who bullied you in middle school? That friend who recently decided she had better friend options? The girl who stole your friends and made you the outcast so long ago?

I want to ask you something.

Forgive them.

Don’t do it for them, do it for yourself. Because there’s no greater feeling then the airless feeling when you’ve finally dropped a grudge you’ve held for so long. And, in the words of some internet quote I saw so long ago I can’t report a source, ‘you can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading that page’. So close your eyes. Summon them up. Smile. Hope they’re happy, wherever they are, whatever they’re doing. And mean it. Because you’re shining like fireworks over their sad empty town, if you need some of the courage in the you’re-better-off-without-them vein. It doesn’t make any difference to them, at this point, whether they’re loved or hated, so why not do this for you, and forgive them?

Reflection : An Extrovert With Crippling Anxiety

I have a confession to make.

I call myself an introvert in defense when my family asks why I only have one or two friends, and that’s partly true, I don’t mind keeping myself company for a long time, but I love making friends and talking to people.

Which is why it’s so hard to have terrible anxiety.

I have an anxiety/social disorder, which contributes, but like last week, I went to a book club, and I was so nervous my stomach knotted up and I could barely say two words there in fear of being judged, of saying the wrong thing. I picked at the webbing of my fingers until it turned raw and inflamed red, because I was so nervous. When I got home and was lying in bed that night, I replayed every. single. word I said and told myself how stupid they were, how I could have phrased that so much better, how everyone is going to think I’m some dumb dork.

All I really want are friends, people I can talk to, but it’s so hard to have those, to make those, when I can barely speak to people without picking my skin raw and feeling like I’m going to vomit. I almost had a panic attack when I had to make small talk a few weeks ago. I can’t even call people on the phone because I’m so terrified of awkward silences, of saying something stupid. This all sounds dumb, now that I’m typing it out, but it’s anything but when I’m standing there, picking at my skin, hyperventilating, feeling like I’m going to vomit, just because I have to talk to strangers.

I wish I could just post an ad for a friend. ‘Wanted : someone with an interest in books/writing to be the friend of a socially awkward teenager. Preferably random, not minding awkward silences, and not a serial killer. Apply today!’ Oh, that would be wonderful. Although with my luck, serial killers would disregard the ‘not a serial killer’ bit, and I’d end up dead because of my need for communication. I tend to think the worst of things.

So, I’m a pessimistic extrovert with crippling anxiety, what are you?