(BEDA #2) Beckie0 and Some Psychology

This is not actually the video I wanted to put up. The one I really wanted to put up is by the same girl, it's one called "Depression", where she's just sitting on a couch and listening to all these voices, voices that are telling her she is wrong and everything and the screen just gets darker, and then she just screams, 'Just stop it!'  That video, though, is not longer and Youtube and hasn't been for a bit, as Rebecca has privated it. And I completely respectably her decision in this. This video is just as beautiful, in fact, everything that she creates is beautiful. I really look up to her as a Youtuber probably more than anything else. But that one video, the one that's gone now, has always been my favorite. It was such a short, simple thing and yet it has made one of the biggest impacts on me that a video ever has made. I just really appreciate that she can take almost everything I feel and put into these beautiful marvelous creations that she has. And yet, I know she is different, every human is. But there's also a connection, a connection that is very basic and there. Pain, it's there to feel and be seen and know that you are not alone. But there's also happiness too, the happiness is great. Even if you are not happy yourself you know that some other person out there in the world is, and isn't that enough to give you hope. I have never met Rebecca in real life and I probably never will, but if for some (amazing) reason that I ever do I will just give her a hug. Because it's like this, I watch her videos and it's like a hand is reaching out and grasping mine and telling me, hey, it's okay. There has never been a person my own age that I have admired more than her.

One thing I don't think people understand enough about me, no matter how much I tell them or try to show them, I believe every negative thing that someone says about me. I can't help it, if you tell me I'm wrong and bad and pathetic I'll believe you. And I know it makes me weak, I really know it does. Most of the time it's the same people who tell me that I'm wrong that are telling me that I'm weak for being upset with it. Another thing you know is that it's not really people, it's not, because I don't have people in my life. It can just be one person, one person from any point or time in my life. I remember what they said and it's just like this building of all things, layer upon layer, upon layer. I remember every bad thing that has ever been said to me and they just happen, like lightening, and they get heavier and heavier. And if it's not enough, my mind tends to exaggerate them, make them a little more painful. Remember the words in a way that the knife just pushes a little deeper. And I know it's bad, it's bad, it's bad. I know. I know. I know. I am wrong. The most recent insult that has been tossed upon me is "stupid bitch" and for the past week or so my favorite way to beat myself up is to call myself a stupid bitch. Because that's what I am right? Or what they see of me.

In my Psychology class today we went over a chart of things called 'Irrational Beliefs' and just, wow, I believe in almost all those things. And so I'm irrational? But I just think about it in this way. The number one Irrational Belief is this, "You must have sincere love and approval almost all the time from the people who are important to you." And yes, yes, yes....I really do believe that. And not just people who are important, just people in general. I want people to like me, I really do. The professor then said people who have irrational beliefs often make themselves depressed because none of their irrational beliefs really come true. And I just though, you're preaching to the choir teacher, you really are. And I do believe that, only I don't see why it's so irrational to want to be well liked. Okay, well that was a lie, I do. Because when you're not well liked and you belief you must be, then it can hurt you. Not physically but mentally. It really hurts not to have your beliefs really be true.

But the thing is, I am happy too. I'm just not just some big ball of depression running rampant everywhere. I see it like this, I am a balloon. I know, an odd comparison, but just go with it. I am a balloon filled with water and a crack in it, a piece of crack that has tape over it. And as the solid and whole balloon I am happy. I can smile, I can dance, I can not worry. But then something happens, someone says a mean comment or I make a bad grade on a test--the pieces of the tape are ripped off. And just everything that I am, all the water inside, comes spilling out. And so I have to work to fill myself back up again, fill myself back up with happiness and confidence. But once you're broken first it's really hard to repair. Because while you're trying to fix the crack things keep pulling on the tape. And sometimes it's good, because you're almost there, but then the pulling gets harder. It just take time, you know, time to get better. And I am happy, but also sad, and I'm fixing myself.

Fin.
Keshia

*Taking a small break from books, because my reading just hasn't been that good lately, I can't get myself into books, I can't find a story to catch me. But i'm taking a fresh trip to the library tomorrow. Hopefully something will come up*