(BEDA #7) Dealing With Anxiety: The Internet Vs. Real Life

A lot of times I feel like the picture above. I mean, it's a silly screenshot for a hilarious anime, but really when you think about it the picture says a lot. There's this whole difference to being on the internet than being  in real life. I mean, the real world vs. the virtual world, and I touched on it a little bit yesterday, but not a lot, because I was more focused on reasons to share on social media, specifically Youtube. Today this is more of a personal thing, because I'm going to talk about me on the internet as opposed to me in real life.

Let me try to put it this way, in some examples. I've always wanted to make a collab channel on Youtube, I think they are amazing and beautiful. It is a whole new way of connecting, really. And I just like the idea of it, friends just sharing videos with each other and with other people, all in one effort to make an awesome channel. And so this month I messaged three other girls on Youtube, three (and then one of the girls telling me about a fourth) girls who make videos similar to me and perhaps don't get the amount of views that they deserve on their videos. And girls who are just awesome people. They are all people that within the last month or so I have subscribed too/contacted because I miss the connecting aspect on the internet a lot. And this is the thing, I only just had the idea this morning and they all agreed and we've already got days picked out and everything. It was so easy and when we start next month I hope everything goes well, I really hope that it does. But like I said, it was easy. I didn't feel nervous sending them the message to talk about the collab and I don't feel overwhelmed. But if I ever tried that in real life, like say with people who lived in Montevallo, it would be a whole other story. 

First there's the aspect of even approaching them in the first place (like I've done in the past month or so with these girls) because I NEVER would have done that in real life. I just can't. Do you know how hard it is to approach people. There's this girl named Katie who met via Tumblr a few months ago and she's at Montevallo now, I follower her and her roommate on Tumblr, Twitter, and Facebook and often comment/like their things. Communication is so EASY on the internet. And yet the other day I was in the cafe alone and they were there and I asked to sit with them and it was awkward and horrible and I felt like I made them so uncomfortable and I kept apologizing for making awkward. And they are both younger then me too, at least two years younger, and one thing I really dislike is when I feel inferior or naive compared to people younger than me. And I know it's bound to happen, because there are thousands of people younger than me who are better than me in some way or the other, but it makes me feel all the more worse. But then yesterday I messaged Katie on FB and told her we should hang sometime; me, her, and Bailey, before the end of the school year. And that messaging, it was easy. But I have a feeling that when it happens it's going to be horrible and awkward and I'm gonna blame it on myself all again. And well, I don't know. I hope that doesn't happen, and I'm really gonna try. But are you getting the point now, I'm already so anxious about hanging out with two people in real life, people who I have no problem whatsoever talking to on the internet. 

And the thing is, I wasn't like this. I didn't always have this social anxiety. I mean in high school, I was the most outgoing person on the planet, but I had no problem meeting new people, in fact most of the acting goofy around them because I was just happy to meet new people. And sitting int he crowded cafeteria, walking in the hallways and saying hay to random people, no problem. And now I hate crowded place, the cafe and the Wow scare me half the time. I hate going out in public a lot, even if for it's smallest bits. And the most common thing people tell me when I say I used to not be like this is that I need to 'get out there' and 'go make friends' and all that jazz. But it's just so hard and I don't even know why. The thing is, most of the time I can somewhat handle people by themselves, but have more than one person and it's like I just can't handle it. A lot of times it's like this, like I just have all this weird pressure on me and like there's this rock crushing me and I just don't know. And it's even gotten to the point where sometimes I feel like I can't breathe, I just can't breathe--and a lot of times this leads to me running away and just sobbing in my room. But I try, I do try. Once a week I go to the Korean Culture Club and Creative Writing Club. This upcoming week I'm volunteering for the Literary Festival and going to the Spectrum (GSA Alliance) Ball on Friday. I really do try. And I wish people would see how much I try and how much I still want to try. 

I think it's because of this. I moved to Washington right out of high school and only kept in contact with a few, maybe like five, friends. No one else made an effort to care about me. And in Washington, other than a few coworkers, I made one damn friend the entire time. And then I came back to Alabama and took a year off and I still only kept in contact with those few friends. I mean, I wanted to talk to all the people I had known from high school and all but they all seemed busy or to no longer care. And so my closest friends became my coworkers, the people I talked to everyday, and it just got harder. And when I came to Montevallo I had so much hope, I was going to make friends and have tons of fun. I was going to make college amazing. And the friends I came here with, most of them those 'few' who I maintained contact with, we were all going to be close. But we weren't, and I was left behind. And it got so much harder at Montevallo, everyone was making new friends and it was like I lost my ability. I'm just bad at making friends. But I'm trying, trying so hard and no one can see it. No one can see how scared I am all the time. And so I hide on the internet, the internet where things are not scary and communication is easy. It's all easy. 

Fin.

-Keshia

Currently Reading The View From the Seventh Layer by Kevin Brockmieir 

And The Cry of the South by Lila Dostel

*Note: I thought I had posted this on the 7th, but apparently it only saved it as a draft then, so yeah. I didn't technically post it until the 8th, but I wrote it on the 7th. I am no breaking rules*

(BEDA #6) Looking forward to looking back...

There was this one song playing at Panera earlier (where I am sitting right now, waiting to go into work) and I heard this song, which kept repeating  the lyrics, 'I'm looking forward to looking back.' I've never heard this song but the lyrics kind of baffled me, so I researched and it's by Mandy Moore (which took me by complete surprise because it sounds nothing like what her voice has always sounded like) and it's basically about a girl breaking up/leaving her boyfriend and she's 'looking forward to looking back' on the memories that they created. And really that logic makes no sense to me whatsoever. But I also may not be understanding  the song so well, I do that sometimes. But that line really is weird, 'looking forward to looking back.'

Sometimes their is a kind of weird thing with memories, or at least he process of making them. I don't really look forward to things with the attitude of 'looking back' on them. but there's also this too, I'm a highly sentimental person, I take pictures and make videos like crazy. And sometimes I think, "Oh, I want to do this because it would make an awesome Youtube video", but there's a difference to it because I don't do it just because of wanting to make the Youtube video but I also want to experience it. And experiences are what make up life. I think it's really hard now-a-days with all the sharing of social media and for people to really do things for the experience  I mean, there's so much sharing and connecting, and I think it's wonderful and beautiful how we can cannot to other humans life through this sharing. It really is amazing. But sometimes I think, how much of this is real? How much is something they really enjoying and having fun and how much of it is just an act for the camera, an opportunity to get a new Facebook profile picture, or share a exciting tweet? And I'm not really guilt free in it, but I do try to go into things with the attitude of of really doing them and not just recording them. So I don't want to look at things and think "I'm looking forward to looking back", I want to go into things thinking hey, I'm looking forward to the here and now,what I'm really living. And hey, maybe it would be nice to make a video of it or take some pictures of it. there's this one quote that one of my favorite Youtubers, Shawna (Nanalew) says. she showed a few clips from a time she went on tour, but only a few. At the end of the video she says she didn't take anymore because sometimes, "You have to live through these lenses," and refers to her eyes. And I think that's true. I also think recording things is beautiful as well, but both should be within a balance.

I think about it like this. On the last day of my eighth grade year I discovered that I had a video camera on my cell phone. The last days of school are usually famous for doing nothing, and sot hat's what me and my friends were doing, schoolwork wise. But we were actually acting really goofy and crazy and just being crazy teenagers. And so I decided to record a few videos on my phone. The thing is, I didn't have a Youtube channel then (I didn't even know what Youtube was then, it was to discovered that summer) and the only internet things I used were my Myspace and several anime forums. But nothing else. I never managed to get the clips off my phone and I ended losing said phone. And I really regret it, because I would love to look back on those clips now and see them. But I didn't take them because I was looking forward to looking back, on that day I made those clips for the right reason.

Fin.
-Keshia

Currently Reading The View From the Seventh Layer by Kevin Brockmieir

(BEDA #5) Writing Club at Montevallo

A month or so ago, right after College Night events were over, I started to attend Creative Writing Club at Montevallo. It's this group of people who meet in the bottom of Carmicheal Library every Thursday at 8pm and read things back and forth to each other and give tips and such, we also get distracted sometimes and find things on the internet to babble on about. And the thing is, I've been part of the group for a short while, but I've come to fall in love with it. I requested to have Thursdays off, just so I can make sure never to miss a meeting. And it was nice the first time, the first meeting. I listened to people share their works (mostly poetry that night) and didn't give much input, I wasn't sure what to say. And then the second meeting was terrifying, because I decided to share something I wrote.

The thing is, I've never read something I've written out loud to a group of people. I mean, there's been speeches and presentations in class but never something that really meant something to me. But I shared, I read something out loud, a little piece of Italian Bakery. I read too fast, and low I'm sure. And my face and chest were doing that thing they do when I get embarrassed, red and patchy. It's like my blushing is bipolar. But I did do it, and I was proud of myself for that night. I got a good response, questions about my story, and it felt nice. It felt good to know there are other people out there who have some understanding of how I feel about writing and can support me. I mean, we haven't talked out of class and most of time I don't even get or give a nod or hello if I pass them on campus. But on Thursday nights, in the basement of the Library, I feel good. And the past two meetings, I've been the first one to read something, though, I really don't I've ever stopped being nervous.

There's been a lot of me that has been sad this semester. A lot of things that have been really hard for me, and it's only getting more stressful and worse. It's hard for me to hold unto happiness a lot, but Writing Club is something I don't even have to to hold unto to. It's just there, and it makes everything better. And it makes me want to write more. It makes me want to just try my best, at not only writing, but everything.

So I really love writing club.

First there's Lila, who has this amazing, spunky personality. She's not someone who you can ignore. And she's already worked so hard on her writing, already gotten some of it published. She's so passionate and involved with her characters and story that it's amazing and scary all at the same time. Scary because she has and is going to do great things. I really look up to her a lot. And then there's Jacob who writes this weird and odd and beautiful things. He's like some kind of combination of Jerry Spenelli and Edgar Allen Poe with his writing. They are very very different writers and yet somehow Jacob has managed to instill them in his own works. I also like that he just goes out of his way to creep people out, it's one of the most amusing things to watch at every meeting.Hannah is next, and she's always there to be nice and supportive. And she's always full of questions. I think that's my favorite thing about her, she's passionately curious in a way. She doesn't share that much, but when she has I've like everything she's written. She's also much funnier than she can probably ever imagine herself being, because she make me laugh all the time.And Marta Muneca is there too, whose name I really like because it has alliteration. And she writes these cool stories about cyborgs who have even cooler names. And I just really, really like her voice. She has a good, soft, and calming voice. If I ever had to hire anyone to narrate children's story or something like that, my first choice would definitely be Marta. Edwin is there sometimes too. I don't know him a lot, only that sometimes he comes and makes jokes about llamas and other furry creatures. Ben is a guy who there the first few meetings, and read a poem about a mountain, that I really enjoyed. And there's that one guy who came one time, whose name I never caught. He gave me good advice on my story but he was also kind of an unnecessary ass to Lila. So you good sir, you give me conflicts.

And that Writing Club. I really like it, and I don't really plan on leaving it.

Fin.
-Keshia

Currently Reading The View From the Seventh Layer Kevin Brockmeier

(BEDA #4) Some Pictures

I don't care about today, today has been weird. It's been full of me sleeping, and just in general ignoring life. I haven't felt good, I only went to one class and took a test (as my other was cancelled) and basically haven't left the room since (except perhaps for lunch and Creative Writing Club). But yeah, it's eleven thirty and I have yet to post in here. So here are some pictures, some of my favorite I've ever taken.

 

(BEDA #3) Jamie Nabonzy

Last Thursday I attended the anti-bullying talk with Jamie Nabozny. He's this incredible guy who was harassed in high school for being gay, and then sued the school from not properly protecting him from this harassment; it was a landmark case in LGBT rights. But throughout the presentation of the movie and the questions and answers videos there were several things I noticed, several things that really interested me in this presentation. One was that he was wearing a wedding ring, which is kind of irrelevant, but it just makes me happy to know he is happy and with someone despite what happened to him early in life. He didn't let it close him off. Second was that I really came to admire him more and more as he spoke because of what he was really saying. He dedicates his life not just to telling his story and trying to protect people part of LGBT community but also people who are being bullied everywhere. I like that he focused not only on the gay kids that were being bullied but on the straight kids as well. Because no one should feel unsafe in the school they are in. School is supposed to be a comforting and safe environment, one where you can come to learn and be with your friends. And I just think it's so horrible that some people aren't given that, some people have to come into the school full of fear everyday because of bullying. And so I think he's strong, really strong for speaking out for the people are too scared to speak out for themselves. One of the last things I noticed happened during the question and answers part, one girl from the audience asked if he was okay, if the things that happened to him in the past still hurt him. He was very honest and said that no, he's not fully better but after years of therapy he is mostly there. He gave us examples of being in a crowded school hallway and feeling uncomfortable or sometimes being scared to go to the bathroom (a majority of the assault he received took place in a bathroom) by himself. He also said he could probably never go back into the bathroom in his old high school. But what I noticed most was when he said something a long the lines of 'the pain they crated left scars that are getting better but the words they said to me made ones that will probably never go away.' I'm sure I'm just romanticizing here, but it was definitely a long those lines. Something like that, it's kind of beautiful and tragic all at the same time. There's the old phrase that 'stick and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me', and to be honest I think is an utter lie. Words will always hurt and they will always leave deeper scars than any physical scar anyone will ever know, or at least in my experience.

Overall I loved the presentation and I wish I could somehow make it possible for every school to see this, for every person just to hear someone's story, someone like Jamie, and really understand it. There is so much hate in this world, but I think there's a lot of love too. And if people just take the time to step back and see all the hate that is here then maybe they can their attitude, maybe they can see, no human being deserves to be treated inferior because of who they are attracted to.

Fin.

-Keshia

Currently Reading The View from the Seventh Layer by Kevin Brockmier

*This is a bonus assignment I has to do for my psychology class, I really didn't spend much time on it, because we're getting credit for doing it, not for making it amazing. But it was late and I hadn't posted anything today and I just want to print this off and go to sleep, blog shall be better tomorrow*

(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*

(BEDA #1) Good Enough

So, writing a blog post everyday in April, here we go.

I want to be a good student. I want to be a better person. I want, I want, I want. You know I want a lot of things. But I don't really do, sad  pathetic person that I am. But I really want to be good--and I know how to fall into my own standards of good but I don't really know if I'll ever feel good. I just, I don't know if I'll ever be good enough for myself and honestly that really, really scares me. Because I'm afraid of going through life and never being good enough. Even if I meet some miraculous person (and I say miraculous because said person will probably never exist) who thinks I am good enough in every aspect, I still won't feel good enough. And that's hard because I'm so hypocritical in ways. I, in general, listen to what people tell me, whether good or bad, whether they are calling me right or wrong. And yet if that miracle person called me good, I wouldn't believe them. Because I am not good, I an just not. And I think that's such a tragic and wonderful thing about being a human being, I can never be fully formed.

I really think even with my dying breath I'll be learning more, seeing more, just experiencing more. And I love that, I really do think it's one of the most incredible things. But it;s also horrible at the same time, because bear in mind, I think human beings are never fully formed, never really finished. For me, and people like me, who have confidence in themselves, what will ever be good? And yet I'm told, I do it to myself, I can have confidence if I want to, I am making myself not have confidence. You know what you don't tell someone who have confidence--that they are doing it to themselves. How could that help them at all?

One thing I've always obsessed with in the "pursuit of happiness" line in the Declaration of Independence. All human beings have that right, the right to "pursue" happiness. So what if happiness for me is being what I consider a good person? Can I only pursue that Mr. Jefferson? Can I never actually achieve that? Why aren't humans being endowed with the right to happiness, only the right to pursue it? I don't really know. I don't know how to be a good person. I mean, I have these standards set in my head of what it is to be good and I know if I tried I could mostly fit in with them. But I can never really see myself being good enough.

This really went all over the place.

Fin.
-Keshia

Currently Reading The Book Thief by Mark Zusak