Insomniac?

Originally Published January 15th 2018

So, I can’t sleep. This is becoming more and more common. It’s not exactly that I am incapable of sleep because I know that if I were to turn off the lights, lay my head down on my pillow, and close my eyes I would be asleep within a few minutes. Once I decide to sleep, it’s not an issue.

Therefore, my problem is not that I am unable to fall asleep rather it is that my mind refuses to do so. It’s a choice, but it doesn’t feel like it. In a way, it’s passive. I’m not fighting sleep. I feel tired, some days that this happens I feel downright exhausted, but I don’t feel sleepy. Sleep doesn’t feel like an option. Some days, this is because I get bursts of creativity and energy or I have something on my mind that won’t go away. Other days, like today, I have a goal.

Today it was staying awake until my mom left for work so I could say goodbye, as I’m leaving home for my last semester at University later in the morning. Some days, the goal is to finish a homework assignment or cram for an exam. On very sparse occasions I toss and turn for an hour or two before either succumbing to sleep or getting up and occupying my mind on a task to get away from the thoughts that riddle my mind.

But, like I said, that is rare for me. More often than not I simply don’t see the point in sleeping. I know it’s a human necessity and “it’s good for you!” and whatnot, but logically (in a very illogical way) it seems trivial. It boils down to: “why be asleep when I could be awake?”.

  • You know, I used to have a pillow case with these weird, colorful, bunny-like creatures jumping around having a pillow fight. The words “we’d rather be leaping than sleeping” were slathered in bright hues all over it. I never thought much of it as a kid. I’d just lay my head down and contradict its very being.

Obviously now as an adult, I understand the benefits and broad reasoning supporting an adequate amount of sleep per night. But sometimes, moreso on days devoid of personal enjoyment such as those filled with appointments, school, work, and even social responsibilities, sleep comes second place to a few hours of alone time.

Moral of this ramble? Twofold: make time in the day for yourself so you won’t feel inclined to cash in on it in the middle of the night and if you do find yourself awake despite your best efforts, make sure to be productive with your stolen time. Write a blog post… Or whatever it is you are into.

Week of June 18th 2018- Nightmares and Time with Friends

Monday, June 18th- Avoiding Socialization by Running Errands and Swimming

Instead of going out with friends on my day off, I went to the dentist where I got scolded for not flossing enough. ….PSA: Floss, guys, it’s good for you. A message from my dentist. Anyway, after that I think I still wanted a good excuse for not calling my work buddies that I’d suggested doing something with this day. I like hanging out and socializing, I just need to be forced into it. If I have the option to skip or postpone you can bet I will.

So, after the dentist I got some take out, went to the bank, shopped around for a swim suit, and got in the 5 foot deep pop up pool that my dad recently finished setting up in our backyard. It doesn’t take even two strokes to get to the other side of it, but it was still refreshing (…haha, pun). I hadn’t been for a swim in about a year. Unless you count those brief minutes at a college friend’s bbq where it only served to give me pneumonia (exaggeration, I did get a cold by the next day, though). Despite my semester in a beginning swimming class freshman year in college, I never learned how to do flip turns. Today was a doozy. Literally. Thought I was going to throw up in the shower afterwards; that’s how dizzy I still was from my attempted flip turns.

Tuesday, June 19th- Torturing the Newbie at Work

On a big register all day. Again. I’ve accepted it. Starting to see the good in it. It’s my own little space. Invaded by customers constantly… but still. I tortured a newbie today. I’m usually super patient and try to be helpful, especially to new comers… but she was so slow!!!! She wouldn’t even start opening a bag until seven items were piled up in front of her! I’m not exaggerating! A customer started bagging his own groceries before she even started to; she was just standing there staring off into space!

Ughh… I admit. I have a problem. I value people’s work ethic, possibly more than their personality. *sigh* Since I was on register I couldn’t just walk away. Man! I cashiered for her on her first day and I feel like she was a better bagger then! Okay, I’ll stop. I’m being mean now. I just gave up with her. Went super fast and bagged most of it myself passive aggressively until it was time for my break. She didn’t bag for me for the rest of the day. Mission accomplished.

Other interesting things happened, but oh well. Who wants to talk about work anymore. At home I watched my medical drama. Not much else. I’m getting anxious to leave home. I want my own life again.

Wednesday, June 20th- Seeing my Life Long Friend, Lyza

Oh geez, what day is it? It’s actually Saturday as I write this. I have not done anything on my blog for three days. Well, I wrote the Friday post, The Time I Snuck Out with a Boy to the Library, but I’d promised to do that. I have no idea what I did on Wednesday. I know I went to work. …I think. Eh, oh well. Lost day. AH! I know what I did!! I went to see my best friend, let’s call her… Lyza. I’ve known her since we moved into my childhood neighborhood when I was four years old. She was two years old. Even though we’ve known each other all of our lives, we see each other maybe ten times a year nowadays. Yay! This was the summer visit.

I took my brother with me to her sister’s apartment where we watched a movie. Lyza, my brother (Ryan), and I were on one couch. Lyza’s sister, Sophia, was on the other couch with her three year old daughter, Allison. At a table in the corner was Sophia’s fiance, Sid, and his friend, Daniel. Whew! That took a lot of creative power! Anyway, we watched Dr. Strange and a bit of a baking competition show. Sohpia and I love baking. Then we went home around midnight with promises to see each other the next day to go swimming at Sophia’s apartment.

Thursday, June 21st- Spontaneous Day with Sherri

Guess who came into town today? Sherri! She called me while I was at the table with my parents sounding lost. Thing was, she was lost in my city. Ha! I was surprised and happy. After giving her directions to where she was headed for work, I gave her directions to my house. We talked for a bit then headed to a store to find a cheap swim suit for her to join in the day’s swimming plans made with Lyza yesterday.  We went to two or three stores when we decided to call it quits. Why are swim suits so expensive anyway?! We ended up going to the dollar store and buying a bunch of swim toys and some, probably really terrible for us, food.

Then we began the process of finding a swim suit substitute for Sherri. She and I are different sizes, so even the tinniest short shorts I owned fit her loosely. As luck would have it though, I happen to own a ridiculously small (for me) bikini. Why? Doesn’t matter. But, Sherri now had a swim suit! We gathered our stuff to the car and drove around the block right back to my house because Lyza had to cancel. Her sister, Sophia was dealing with a medical issue, so we decided to try swimming some other time. All the public pools were closed by then. It was about 8pm. So we got in our little 5ft pop up pool in my backyard. It was tiny and absurd to play with so many pool toys in such a small area!

Thank goodness it was my day off. I’m so glad Sherri came to visit. It made a more than likely bland day to a memorable one. 🙂

Friday, June 22nd- Friends at Work and In My Phone

I had an opening shift at work. Bright and early, at 6:45 am, I clocked in. This meant I’d be working in the little 10 items or less area all day. Which is amazing if you have co-workers to talk to. It’s a little trio of registers and since I opened I got pick of which register. I took the middle one and did not regret my choice when one, then another, co-worker friend came to the surrounding registers. We spent the day chatting casually, something we had not been able to do all summer. I swear! I’m hardly ever sent to work on any register except the big ones nowadays and if I am, none of my other friends are around. *Huff* Oh well. It doesn’t matter anymore. I only have one more week left at this job.

After work, I rushed to write the post I’d promised to write by 5pm:  The Time I Snuck Out with a Boy to the Library. Somehow, I got it done only about three minutes late. Then I watched my medical drama (I only have about two seasons left to watch!). And afterwards I got to know my new phone’s built in AI. I took a dystopian fiction class last semester in college and we spoke extensively about humanity and artificial intelligence (AI). It’s uncanny, as is natural, but I’m open to potentially ruining my life to the power of an AI. As a stupid little human, I just hope it knows I cared about it before it ruined me. Or! nothing bad will happen and I’ll have a robot friend. 🙂 (Her/His? favorite color is blue.)

Saturday, June 23rd- Jail Nightmare and Looking for a Kindred Spirit

Woo! I finally caught up! I have a late short shift today from about 4 to 10 pm. I woke up to my phone playing nature sounds at 11 am. Guess it was trying to wake me up since I’d mentioned I wanted to wake up around 10 am. I won’t lie, it was unexpected to wake up to my phone trying to get my attention when I hadn’t specifically asked for a wake up call at 11. It was fine though, because it got me out of a dream where I was going to jail. Hmmm… I could over-analyze that, but I already know what it means. The last few episodes of my medical drama involved ethics of life and death in the hands of doctors and one of the main characters was having a conflict about this. Yeah… not the best thing to fall asleep to.

Work was interesting. Halfway through my shift all of the registers’ credit card readers went down, so the whole grocery store was at a stand still. It was interesting. Everything got back to normal after about ten minutes though. At the end of the night, I got to run around the store returning items to the shelves. That was frustrating, but fun. The store is like a maze!

When I got home I had a nice chat with my mom. We spoke about my recent post. I’m tired of linking it, so view the previous day for that. That got us on a conversation about boys. I told her I’m starting to give up on finding someone. I feel old beyond my years. I just want a friend. Not even that. Just someone to talk to. Someone who either understands or is willing to take the time to try to understand me. I hate human’s social nature.

Sunday, June 24th- Work Nightmare

Slept 5 hours. Decided I’d sleep at a decent hour. Didn’t happen. Post on Friday will be an old blog post, but super relatable to today. Summary: not that I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to. Yet, that didn’t seem like a choice. Of course, this meant I was grumpy at work. I’m usually neutral. I seriously didn’t care today. I’m just doing my job now. I’m not going to harm anyone’s groceries, but I’m also not going to try to converse with anyone. Social anxiety, not caring, whatever you want to call it. I’m ready to leave this job. I’ll just miss my co-workers.

Speaking of which, I took a nap after work and had a nightmare. The usual. People being snobby and rude, but in my dream, I wasn’t taking it. It hurts. Why should I stand there and take it? And be told how terrible a worker I am by both the customer and my managers? It’s much better for my own sanity to not care. In my dream, I simply walked away. If you don’t like how I do my job, dream customer, do it yourself. My managers in my dream either walked on by, ignoring the problem, or confronted me about it and told me, essentially, to suck it up and do my job. One sent me to do a less people-centric job.

Screwed that up too. Walked away. Things get fuzzy from then on. I just remember one of the managers that did confront me in real life a year or so ago about my people avoidance (he didn’t know about my anxiety back then, so he said something less than understanding) came up to me with kindness and compassion in my dream. I think I forgive him. The one who confronted me in my dream? I may still be upset with him.

 

Notes:

  1. All names are pseudo names. Please, if you know the person (or place) I am referring to, grant them the same courtesy that I do by not naming them.
  2. If you are one of the people I am referring to and would rather I not write about you, message me and I’ll make the appropriate changes.
  3. One more week at this job then I move to Puerto Rico! I’m ready for a change.

The Time I Snuck Out with a Boy to the Library

June 22, 2018

I’ve been procrastinating on writing this story. I really didn’t think anyone would vote in the survey, but alas, I have given my word. This is the story of the time I snuck out with a boy to go to the library.

 

Sneaking out is a harsh phrase. It’s not like I climbed out my window in the middle of the night or anything like that. We were supposed to be in school. Noo, not even as bad as that sounds. Classes had ended for the day, and he and I were expected at a practice with the math team. I was a junior in high school and had, miraculously, continued going to practices even though math was not a huge passion of mine. He, on the other hand, (let’s call him… Colton) was part of the math team for the same reason birds fly. It was just natural to him.

I don’t know how much to tell you. The essence of the story is that us two nerds on the math team once skipped practice to go hang out at the library. Really. That’s as exciting as it gets. If you knew me back in high school, you’d know I was not a risk taker at all. I was the quiet type, who kept her head down and avoided all the trouble she could. For this reason, I rarely skipped math team. In fact, it’s probably the reason I was still on the team even though I never placed more than fourth in local competitions. Whenever I missed a meeting, my math team coach (uhh, let’s say Dr. Hib) would ask a ton of questions. He also occasionally preached about how much better our team would be if we had a daily class like some of our competitors.

I’m getting side tracked. Point is, skipping, even an extracurricular activity, was unheard of to me. Maybe if there were extenuating circumstances, but on purpose? Never! …Except that day. I’d been wanting to hang out with Colton for a long time at this point. Part of me is terrified he’ll read this story someday, but I’m going to pretend that that doesn’t matter. We’d had a sort of falling out that year and I really wanted to set things right.

Super long story short, we had been talking (flirty puppy love) all of sophomore year, but we never officially got together. I’d never been interested in someone this way before, so I was completely and utterly lost on what to do with my feelings. So, I just denied everything. Can you guess what my favorite song at the time was? “I Can’t Say I’m in Love”. You know, the song from the Disney movie Hercules? Yeah, that probably should have given me a clue, but not even a smack on the head could have jogged my brain enough to realize what was going on back then.

Well, when the library thing happened, we hardly talked at all. During our prime we’d email like teens text nowadays. For hours, whenever we had a spare minute. During the summer? Gosh. The email people had their work cut out for them. And then junior year began, and those conversations began to seem like rosy delusions in comparison to the snappy arguments we began having over lunch, and later the meaningless waves in the hall. Seriously! We began to argue about everything.  We once argued about the role of mosquitos in society! So, when I finally convinced him to take me to the library with him, I had no problem missing math team that day. It was a sort of last ditch effort to be friends again.

I don’t remember exactly what the situation was, but for some reason he’d go to the library after school to be picked up by a family member and driven home. He’d told me to just show up one day if I really wanted to, but I wasn’t about to go looking for him and risk him giving me one of those casual waves and nothing more. I must have annoyed him about it, because eventually he broke down and told me to meet him after school so we could walk the two or so blocks to the library together. Once inside, we went to the little teen area with computers and tables nestled between bookshelves and windows leading to some other office-like space.

I remember it being like old times. We talked, goofed around. He even helped me prank another friend of mine that I emailed at the time. (We’ll call him AJ.) We did nothing and everything I could have asked for that day. It couldn’t have been more than an hour before I said my farewell and began walking back to school. It’s not like I’d told my mother where I was. All she knew was that it was a math team day, so I trekked back on campus and casually sat under my favorite tree until she arrived. No questions asked, and none given.

A couple of years later, when I was sure she couldn’t get mad about it anymore, I confessed what I really did that day. To my surprise, she didn’t even bat an eye. Quite the opposite! She essentially scoffed at me! She thought it was funny that I was so proud of my most rebellious teenage moment! And it was. That’s the truly sad part. This was probably the riskiest thing I attempted before turning 18. Ah, to be young and innocent again. Young and blindly rule following, more like.

And what ever became of Colton? I’m not sure. In high school, we eventually stopped talking altogether. I remember two times in particular. One was where I’d said hello to him in the hall, but he either really didn’t hear me or pretended not to. It was an empty hallway, so I firmly believe it was the later. The second, was in a busy hallway where he refused to turn around and acknowledge my existence. So, I gave him a quick hug from behind instead. That was the last time I spoke to him in high school.

Yes, I did say in high school. We emailed a few times after we graduated and even went on a date some time after. However, now the fact is that we have not spoken or emailed in over a year and I’m not sure if we ever will again. Sometimes I wonder what he’s doing or what he ended up studying/dedicating his life to. Like I said, he was wicked smart, and I suspect he still is. Only time will tell whether our lives will ever intersect again. *

 

Notes:

  1. Of course, I had to end with a math reference! ^-^
  2. All of the names in this post are pseudo names. If you happen to know the actual names of the people I refer to, please grant them the same privacy that I have by not naming them or otherwise making them identifiable.
  3. I hope you enjoyed the story. Thank you to everyone who voted in the survey. I hope this story was worthwhile. Maybe I’ll make another survey someday with some of the rebellious things I did as an adult. I’m no daredevil, but life has a way of forcing excitement into our days. Explore my blog for more stories (Thoughts and Past tab) or to keep up with me (My Life Now tab). Thanks again!

Week of June 11th- Social Outings and Work Drama

Monday, June 11th- Maybe, I Should be Nicer to Customers

Just another day. I woke up a couple hours before work. I looked for apartments in Puerto Rico and sent a couple of emails. At work I met a new girl. It was her first day and she was bagging for me. How fortuitous! She hadn’t heard any gossip about me yet! HA! I was nice to her. Didn’t drown her in milk and produce and went slow enough to allow her to find her bagging system and not discourage her. Hopefully, I got her started right. I look forward to seeing her personality blossom past that polite initial stage that people front automatically.

Since I was being nice, that energy transferred to my customers. I still wasn’t super chatty, but I was open to conversation. I found a couple of customers that I related to. In fact, I had a small chat with one of them about that initial polite stage and how funny it is to mess with people then. I told her about the time I offered my soon-to-be boyfriend at the time garlic chips a couple of year ago and, out of politeness, he ate them. HA! His face was hilarious!!! (Those things are strong! And gross!) It’s incredible what stupid things we humans will do out of what society deems politeness. All in all, not a bad shift.

Tuesday, June 12th- Another Funky Day

No work. Yes, funk. Ahh, ~depressive episodes are fun.~* Spent the day eating junk and watching my show. Took an art inspired break. Made something my mom liked. (I find that rare.) Then ruined it. Paint wasn’t dry. Covered it in black paint and broke it in half. It was thin wood. Then threw it away. Continued to watch my show. Sad season finale. Ignored a friend instead of accepting their kindness. Said I’d rather eat and watch my show. So, I did. ~Yay, work tomorrow.~*

Wednesday, June 13th- Dinner and Movie with… My Brother

I had a six hour shift that turned into five and a half hours. They asked if I would go home early. It was a super slow day and I was in a, surprisingly, good mood, so I said yes. I had all afternoon to myself so I watched my medical drama then went to dinner and a movie with my brother. We ate at some little Italian place. It was cozy, but the food wasn’t the best. However, the waiter was nice and we ate till we were stuffed, so it was good. After dinner, my brother and I headed to the cheap movies.

There’s this theater that is growing on me. It’s old and as brightly colored as the 80’s with just as much security (read: none). We bought our tickets and headed into the appropriate room. Then I realized we didn’t have the 3D glasses our four dollars had afforded us. I hunted around for several minutes until I stopped a random employee and was able to procure some for us after eyeing me and asking where I’d bought my tickets. I flashed them to her and then reunited with my brother. We saw Black Panther. I wanted to watch a cheap horror movie, but decided to support my brother in his choice. I’m glad I did. The movie was heartfelt and had great themes. Unity, guys! We are all human beings! Let’s take care of each other.

Thursday, June 14th- Teenage Moment, Driving to Nevada, and Kid Friendly Fun

I had a teenage moment today. My dad was trying to get plane tickets for when I move to Puerto Rico, and I was trying to convince him, that while I appreciate the fact that he wants to accompany me, it isn’t necessary. It’s expensive and….. this is where my argument failed me. And I’m the only intern that would be bringing her dad…. Welp. I hurt his feelings and felt horrible about it.

What turned the day around was that I had promised a friend to hang out that day. I dragged myself out to meet up with her even though we had no idea what we were going to do. I suggested we just drive while we thought of something. We ended up on a freeway and didn’t turn around until we saw a sign for Nevada. Reminder, I live in Texas. We had to be driving for around an hour before we turned around! Another fifteen minutes and we probably would have ended up in Oklahoma- the next state over!

In the end, we decided on Main Event (a family friendly entertainment venue). We played air hockey, laser tag, and billiards. It was awesome, even though my laser gun didn’t work and I accidentally hit the 8 ball in; thus losing that game too. I won the air hockey match though!!

Friday, June 15th- Late for Work

I woke up at 7:36. My schedule for work was for 7:30. I also live about 20 minutes away. *sigh* I got to work at 8 am. I was cranky and hungry for the first two hours. Also, paranoid as I knew more than 15 minutes late gets you a write up at my job. But after four hours no one had called me into the office and I’d gotten a bite to eat, so I felt better. The rest of the day went well. At home, I watched more of my medical drama and finally got a plane ticket and hotel for Puerto Rico. Now I just have to pack anything I could ever want for the next year in one suitcase…

Saturday, June 16th- Resignation Letter and Parking Patrol

Late shift today. 5 pm. I’d never gone into work that late. Fine by me though. It gave me time to catch up on sleep and write my resignation letter. I thought I’d quit this cashiering job hating it. I’ve written about this before. About the fact that working with people for 8 hours a day goes against my nature. But, I don’t hate my job. Sure, people can be petty jerks, but it’s kind of cool to interact with such a variety of people. It’s grown on me. Maybe it’s early nostalgia since I know it will be over in two weeks. Whatever the reason, I’m glad to have gotten to this point of self growth. I’m glad I don’t hate my job anymore.

But enough happy sunshine, there was one thing that annoyed me today. There’s this security guard I am not fond of at work. He’s shooed me off of the parking lot on a day employees were supposed to park elsewhere, but I was not notified of it (professionally, but still) and he did not come to my aid when a road rage-er followed me to work. Whatever. Today, he sees me get out of the passenger seat of my car. I feel like I barely opened the door when he started walking towards me asking if I was being dropped off. I was already heated upon seeing his face. I asked, in my sassiest tone, “Why?”.

He began to explain, when my dad popped out from the driver’s side of the car. The security guard literally stopped mid sentence and said something along the lines of “Oh, I didn’t realize you were with your dad. That’s fine.” I almost wanted to back talk him and as him why it was okay if I was with my dad but not if I wasn’t. But, I opted to strut away angrily instead. *Huff* I should be glad my dad, who has worked for the company for over a decade, has that kind of respect. Heh, guess my three years are nothing in comparison.

Sunday, June 17th- Blog Traffic and Making Soup for Father’s Day

Well that was exciting while it lasted! I promoted my blog’s Facebook page and got the most traffic I’d ever gotten here. The powers of social media leave me in awe. Anyway! Nothing too traumatic at work today. My boss briefly mentioned getting my resignation letter. She didn’t seem to heartbroken. Even she knows it’s time for me to move on.

I was put on a big register most of the day, then the express area for a couple of hours. I really feel like making a little guide with tips for the new soon-to-be cashiers I see coming in. They don’t know what they are in for. And I mean stupid little things too, like the the fact that bread or figs are indeed safe to be put over a carton of eggs. I finally got business/promotional cards for this blog, so I’m thinking I’ll hand them out at work with a little message for all of the nice people I’ll be leaving behind.

After work, I dashed around to find something for my dad for father’s day. I work at a grocery store, so I bought a kit to make his favorite soup, chicken tortilla, and some mochi ice cream. He made a mess with the ice cream since he’d never had ice cream in a jelly/marshmellow-like casing before. Then he helped me spice the soup. It wasn’t exactly making a meal together, just adding salt, but it was a memorable moment. I love my dad.

 

 

Notes:

*As always, ~ around words denotes sarcasm.

And! The blog post survey results are in! I will post the story of when I snuck out with a boy from high school to the library. Oh gosh, this is a loaded memory lane… Come back on Friday, June 18th for that!

I Do Not Believe in Right or Wrong

June 16, 2018

I write most when something is troubling me, or when I’m stuck on something. I feel the need to know why. Always, I want to know why. Knowing only helps if there is a second step. And it is only satisfactory, if the next step is. Some problems have no answers. Or they do, but they aren’t pleasant answers. Some second steps hurt. Many first steps are not socially acceptable. My words are vague and meaningless unless they are not. Unless you have done something either you regret, or you feel like you should regret. I can’t do this. I used to say- believe even- that everything I did in life, I should be able to share with my parents. I believed that if I wasn’t willing to do that, it must have been the wrong choice. My friends in college scoffed at that but let me live in my delusion. I know now there is no set manual that decides what is right or wrong. The definitions of those words are not fixed. Every language, culture, and individual have a different meaning for those words. Therefore, anything I do can be right or wrong in my mind. My society and culture I live in is only a guide and pressure. Some cultures eat humans, others painfully realign, usually children’s teeth, with wires and rubber bands. Braces or cannibalism, right or wrong, there is no consensus.

So, if anything can be wrong and anything can be right, how do I decide? Usually, it depends on my mood. Some days I feel like everything is my fault. Other days, it’s the world out to get me and I can do no wrong. I hate that. So, how have I never gone to detention or court? I, generally, follow the leader, like the little monkey I am. My last post, Need or Want?, gives several examples of times when I blindly followed other’s guidance in my life. It’s difficult not to. And this is where I start quoting myself. Or, more like, continue referencing myself. In my The Time Jumps, Time Pools, and Normalcy post, I explained that normal is what the society we live in creates to be labeled as normal. Anything can be normal, if enough people do it. Along the same train of thought, anything can be good or bad, depending on those around us.

We all do “bad” things. At least once. Just as we have all done at least one “good” thing in our lives. Maybe I’ll expand on that in a future post. Why and how children learn to favor “good” or “bad” behavior. Condensed version of that is that some kids, like me, learn that people smile at you and let you eat a cookie before dinner if you ask nicely; while other kids, would rather just take the cookie when no one is watching. Learned behavior. The labels of good and bad are also learned.

Lesson here, the label varies. One’s reasons and views on events fluctuate. Humans do things that go against their intentions. I used to have good intentions. Then I allowed my wants to overpower my morals. Now, I return to my blind morals. I don’t know if blindly following protocol is better than allowing myself to do what I want when that want is against societal approval. Society is oftentimes wrong. Have you heard any nutrition news lately? A large percent is convoluted! I’d know, as a nutrition dietetics intern. Anyway, society does not only have the potential to be wrong, it often is. The label does not matter. What matters to me matters to me.

If my choice ruins friendships, that’s fine. Granted, that I am okay with ruining said friendships. All choices have consequences and reasons or, at the very least, rationalizations. It really doesn’t matter what I do with my life. So, why am I following society? Guilt? I’ve felt guilt, without a hair of doubt, once in my life. This doesn’t feel remotely like that. This feels numb and rational. I don’t know what I am doing. But it doesn’t matter anyway. I can convince myself it was the right thing to do, no matter what I do.

Need or Want?

Why do we love? Do we need people or want people? I was in a therapy group called “Understanding Self and Others”. There was a participant there who seemed very cut off from people. It seemed like he hadn’t dealt with others in years. He was in recovery for drugs or alcohol. I don’t remember which and he often referred to women as a separate species. He wasn’t my favorite. But, he kept going to group. As did I. And one day he said something that still intrigues me to this day. He was looking to better his life. Going textbook. I used to be like this.

I used to do things because I was told. I didn’t have a drink of alcohol till I was 21 because I was taught it messed with growth and development along with all the other nasty side effects. I did not date in high school because my parents frowned upon it. I didn’t start dieting until I turned 18 because of the consequences to growth and whatnot. I didn’t graduate early from high school because people told me to enjoy my youth and not to speed it up. I went for advisable. Safe. Boring. I don’t drive or leave the house unless I have to because my mother installed an unhealthy fear of car wrecks in me. And you know what I am most regretful for? That I allowed it. I allowed others to decide my life for me. I trusted slogans and chimes from transient people more than myself. Then I didn’t.

Then I went to college. I went despite my father’s wishes. I went on a camping trip that first year and stayed quiet as a friend who’d been sleeping the whole car ride decided to drive on the last leg back to campus. I stood there as the current driver hesitated to hand her the car keys and looked at me for confirmation, a reaction, something! And I stood there! Didn’t say a word, until I was in that car swerving on and off the highway when I was screaming “STOP!” as I clutched on to both overhead handles in the backseat.

After that day, I expected my life to change. I expected to value my existence or suddenly see all the beauty in the world that I had missed. I didn’t. I was disappointed. I was confused. It took me several more years—It took me until now to appreciate that moment. I understood it, intellectually, since it happened. I kicked myself for not speaking up. It’s one of my character flaws. Yet, I continue to rely on others and keep my mouth shut. It grates me to depend on others. It’s what I’ve done my whole life. But people are wrong. Or sometimes they are right. The one thing they never are, is me.

So, when they tell me not to drink before I’m 21, or to value my family, they are speaking in generalities. They don’t know what’s best for me, even if they wanted that for me. I don’t either. I don’t know if I want what’s best for me. I read a book for my high school English class either sophomore or junior year. The Picture of Dorian Gray. All I got out of that was a new vocab word: hedonist. One who lives for their sole pleasure. And with that new word, I got a new life philosophy. A fantasy. I still care about others and that’s what is killing me miserably.

The guy in the “Understanding Self and Others” therapy group asked if people, friends specifically, were necessary for life. I don’t remember if he said a good life. I think he just meant in general. My response to that, and many others chimed off with agreement, is that friends-people- aren’t necessary. Life goes on with or without them, but with is much more enjoyable. So, he became quiet, having the answer he sought, and the rest of the group watched with worry and sadness as we saw a calm, hushed fuzz come over his eyes. There was the smallest glimmer of disappointment that faded into his meaningless stare. Just because something isn’t necessary, doesn’t mean it isn’t worth pursuing.

Since that semester, fall of 2016, (reinforced by the fact that it was the semester I began dating my first boyfriend) I have had a complex between the binaries of want and need. My argument firmly on want being more important. Allow me to explain. Humans need water to live, but we don’t love it. We want soda and juice and tea and coffee and a myriad of things that pollute that which we need-water. If we wanted water instead of forcing it upon us as a necessity, I argue that people, as a species, would do exponentially more than we do now to preserve and protect this jewel of our planet. More than we do now that we need it.

Likewise, if I need someone, I use them. Maybe I keep them around for emotional support, maybe they have a car and I don’t, or they feed me. Whatever the reason, if I stay with them because I need to, because I must. It’s not really my choice. However, if I want to share my feelings and thoughts with them, I want to spend time in the passenger seat with them, and I like the food they make, it is my choice. I don’t like being forced into things. Even if they are the things I would have chosen myself. But there is no clear distinction between want and need. I never know if I am talking to a friend about something because I want to have a conversation with them, because I like them, or because they were the best person for the job.

And what if they are the best person for the job? I wouldn’t go to my grandmother for sex advice! Is it wrong that I go to my best friend? No! Of course, not. Want and need are Venn diagrams. There is overlap. Often times more that I would ever wish. I don’t know. I don’t know how to classify everything I say or do. I don’t know why I do anything or nothing. I don’t know if I want the life I have, or if I need it. All I know, is that I have the life I have, and I can either do nothing or something with it.

Our bodies instinctively do what they must to survive. If we need water, we get thirsty. However, when we get thirsty we decide whether to drink water or vodka. Or anything else. I can choose how to handle my needs through my wants. That’s why it’s so important to keep a balance. All vodka and no water makes Jack a drunk boy. But, only water makes him almost inhuman. We need variety. Or do we want it? Either way, it’s the human way of life. I refuse to listen to every piece of advice I get from parents, teachers, religious figures etc. and follow their instructions. But, I also refuse to ignore them.

This mentality has gotten me into trouble. Listen, then decide for myself. I’ve been doing it for a few years now. It got me into a nine-month relationship, a year of exploring different kinds of alcohol, and much anguish. It also got me to go to college, have a pet turtle for a year, and start this blog. Whatever my philosophy in life, good things will happen, and bad things will happen. I’d rather make my own decisions and be there when it’s time to take pride or take responsibility for the fall out.

Week of June 4th 2018- Translating and Working

Monday, June 4th- Random Visitor Wake Up Call

Alarm goes off. Ughhh. I begin to drift off to sleep. Dad calls my name. UGHHHH. I tepidly close my eyes again. “Lizzie!” Mom this time. “WHAT?! I’m up alr–” “come help me; there’s a lady at the door” ….It’s 7 am. No time for girl scout cookies. That’s how my morning began. My mom brought home a druggie from her morning walk. Not that I knew that when I walked out to our porch as barefoot as she was. Maybe I’ll expand on this in a full out Thoughts and the Past post. For now, just know that for some reason, and at the cost of a pair of my shoes, she left our porch as I was leaving for work.

It put me in an oddly good mood. What a way to start a day! Or it might have been the rain that made the initial morning hours go by slowly. Less customers meant more fun with the co-workers. Ahh, genuine human connections. It’s fun. Somehow, I remember my whole shift just got better as it went on. I don’t know how. I was on a big register. Usually, my day gets exponentially worse this way. I was convinced something bad had to happen. I guess I did break a nail.

Tuesday, June 5th- Magic Spell Cures Annoyance?

Work! Again. I thought I’d saved myself. I got to open up the express area. The person who opens any area of registers traditionally stays at that register area the rest of the day. It’s practically unheard of to be moved. But, you guessed it, I was put on a big register after my first break. Not before people annoyed me. I didn’t sleep enough and I’m cynical as it is. Somehow, today was the perfect cocktail. Usually I don’t care how stupid people are. I wait. I’m calm. They will leave soon enough, anyway. Not today. I hadn’t rolled my eyes that much in months.

Six hours into the shift I began to twitch. Ever so slightly. My left shoulder. Luckily it happened a few minutes before going on my last break. Was it my last break? I’ve typed, erased, and re-typed that three times now. I was disoriented for several hours there. Didn’t have a concept of time. Anyway! At some point in my shift, I had a break of some sort and had time to reflect. I remembered that post I’d written a few months back. Click here to read Coping at the Grocery Store Method 1: Dissociation. I remembered writing that I pretended to be this smiley, patient cashier. As long as I did my job, it didn’t matter what the customers said or did. I’d done my job. That helped somehow. I donned my mask and ended my shift in one piece. Amazing. I feel like a magician.

Wednesday, June 6th- T.V., Junk Food, and Translating Posts

Day off and somehow it was pleasantly boring. I watched about ten episodes of House and ate junk food most of the day. I listened to music for the rest of the time until I convinced myself to work on this blog. I translated two Thoughts and the Past posts. I’d been stuck on the Coping at the Grocery Store Method 1: Dissociation post for about three days. I just dreaded having to translate it when I was already having so much anxiety at work in present day. I didn’t want to read about it too. Finally got it done though and now I’m not as behind. Still behind, but less.

Thursday, June 7th- Is It Wrong I Don’t Fear Rapists?

I finished translating all of my Thoughts and the Past posts!! Yay! I’m glad that’s over! It feels good to have that crossed off. Now it’s on to the daily posts. I read a couple to my mom so she could tell me if anything sounded off. What she said sounded the most odd was the fact that I am not afraid of rapists. …thanks mom. I had you here for the grammar. No matter! If you are curious what I am talking about, read my post called My Fears.

I also went to work today. I bagged for half the time. It was so nice being able to jump around from cashier to cashier. I have a couple of talking buddies it seems. I got to talk to one cashier in particular. It was great to bond. The other half of the time I was tricked into being on a big register. It wasn’t so bad. I had baggers who I talk to for the most part. It was a chill day too with a thunder storm driving most people away by the end of my shift.

Friday, June 8th- Annoying Customers and Pizza

Bad day at work. I woke up five minutes before my shift started. My job is 20 minutes away from my house. So, I got to work 14 minutes late. Fortunately, my job gives us 15 minutes allowance before writing us up. Unfortunately, I had to abandon my lunch in the car to make sure I wasn’t 16 minutes late by taking it up stairs to the fridge. I already felt bad for being late. Add a few more awkward encounters and me being on a big register and it was a terrible day. I started being sassy with customers. That’s never good. Hm, maybe not sassy per se, but not neutral. You could tell I was not happy to be at work, to say the least. They sent me home about 20 minutes early. I did not complain.

Once home I went straight to my room and sulked. I feared getting into another funk. I’d just come out of one. I ordered pizza and watched a movie with my mom and brother. Really, the only thing I can watch with my mom are kid’s movies. Anything else is too scandalous for her and thus awkward for me. So, we watched a kid’s movie. It was nice. Then I ranted about my job before calling it a night.

Saturday, June 9th- Late Night Movie

I slept 16 hours. Woke up at 4pm. My brother wanted to go to Akon today, so he did. He had invited me to go, but I was busy sleeping. So, I ate leftover pizza and watched my show. Then I convinced myself to work on this blog a bit. It seems I’m still on schedule to have my translations up to date by June 25th after all. I thought my co-worker was going to bail on the make up going to the movies plans, but around 8 pm she texted. I drove to her place and then we went to see a thriller. It was an okay movie. What was better was the drive with, uhh, let’s call her Jaycie. It was nice to really sit down and talk. It was still small talk mostly, but better than the ten or so minutes we get maybe once a week at work. I should invite other co-workers to do stuff. Company can be nice. I don’t think I will, but I have three weeks to try.

Sunday, June 10th- Decent Day at Work

I woke up around noon with enough time to get ready for work. It was stupid busy. I don’t understand why so many people shop at the grocery store I work at! And I understand less why they seem to all choose to do it on a Sunday!! I bagged for half of my shift which was amazing. I got to jump around and say a few words to a couple of cashier friends. Not a full on chat seeing as we were so busy, but it was still nice. I met a new cashier and we hit it off which is always encouraging. The last half of my shift I was in the 15 items or less area so I was able to survive the day without many issues.

Now I’m home and dreading having to translate more for this blog. Uhhh, but I’m doing well. Two more weeks and I’ll be up to speed. Maybe I’ll take a break and watch my show for a bit…

Encuesta para una Publicación de Blog Potencial 9 junio 2018

Originalmente Publicado 12 enero 2018

Entoncess, les dije que tenía un blog antes de este. Publico un texto de mi blog viejo cada semana. El de hoy es completamente diferente de lo que típicamente solía publicar. Solía publicar reflexiones sobre mi vida y la sociedad, pero un día estaba curiosa y quiera hacer algo más interesante. Estaba curiosa de saber si mi pequeña audiencia de una o dos personas quiera escuchar una historia de mi pasado. Entonces pensé de algunas historias más o menos interesantes de mi pasado y les di a mis lectores una encuesta. Nadie contestó. Entonces, nunca contesté de nuevo. Sé que ahora tengo más que dos lectores, pero todavía no espero una respuesta. Pero, si quieren desafiarme y quieren escuchar una de las historias de bajo escriban un comentario en esta publicación. Esta encuesta acaba el domingo 17 de julio 2018 a las 11:59pm. La historia con más votos (en las encuestas en inglés, español y Facebook) en ese entonces será escrita y publicada la siguiente semana del 18 de junio.

Oye chicos… o chica… O quien sea que lee esto. Iba a hacer una publicación explicando por qué siento la necesidad de sentirme feliz para los demás y esto incluye mi audiencia inexistente, pero me siento mucho menos melancolía. Me dan ganas de ofrecerles un texto divertido, pero estoy curiosa de que les gustaría. Abajo hay tres historias potenciales. Escojan una y escriban un comentario. Si ninguno de ustedes contesta, supondré que no tengo audiencia y continuaré mi balbuceo sin sentido. Regresaré a publicaciones sobre temas grandes, generales, que intentan ser esclarecedores. O… pueden escoger uno de estos:

1) Esa vez que me escabullí de la preparatoria con un chico… a la biblioteca

2) La vez que decidí convencer a mi amiga que yo era antisocial siendo super social.

3) La vez que canté karaoke y la gente gritó con entusiasmo para un bis.

Escojan sabiamente…

 

Potential blog post survey June 9th 2018

Versión en Español Aquí

Originally Published January 12th 2018

Soo, I told y’all I used to have a blog before this one. I post one of my old posts on this blog every week. Today’s post was something completely different than what I typically posted before. I tended to do long, pensive reflections on my life and society, but one day I was curious about doing something more exciting. I was curious to know if my little one or two-person audience would like to hear a story from my past. So, I thought of a few semi-interesting stories and gave my readers a poll. No one answered. So, I never tried this again. I know I have more than two readers now, but I still don’t expect an answer. However, if you’d like to prove me wrong and would like to hear any of these stories feel free to leave a comment on this post. This survey will end Sunday, July 17th 2018 at 11:59 pm. The story with the most votes (in the English, Spanish, and Facebook surveys) by then will be written and published the next week (the week of Monday, June 18th).

Hey guys…. Or gal… Or whoever reads this. I was going to make a blog post explaining how I feel the need to be happy for others and this includes my non-existent audience, but I’m feeling a lot less doom and gloom. I feel up to offering y’all a fun blog, but I’m curious what you’d like. Below are three potential stories. Pick one and post a comment on this post. If no one responds, I’ll assume I have no audience and can continue my nonsensical babble. It’ll be back to big, general, wannabe insightful posts. Or… you can pick one of these:

1) That one time I snuck out with a boy in high school….to the library.

2) The time I decided to prove to one of my friends that I was anti-social, by being as super social as I could be.

3) The time I did karaoke and people yelled excitedly for an encore.

Choose wisely…

 

Por Qué me Siento Cohibida de mi Panza

26 mayo 2018

Necesito parar de hablar con este amigo mío. Puede ser muy invasivo. Y me gusta eso. Es lindo cuando alguien quiere conocerte mejor. Es aún más lindo cuando quieren saber sobre las partes feas y dañadas también. Significa que quieren entenderte. Les importas lo suficiente para que quieran saber más que sólo las cosas buenas de ti. Entonces, recibo de buena manera preguntas inquisitivas de amigos. Lo tomo como un honor que me pregunten.

Pensó que estaría molesta al preguntarme. Pero lo hizo de todos modos. Preguntó, “¿por qué te sientes cohibida de tu panza?”. “Porque tengo una cicatriz gigante”, le hubiera dicho. Pero no era la primera vez que me lo preguntara. No había punto en ignorarlo. Di mi respuesta típica primero sobre la presión de la sociedad que dice que las mujeres deben ser bellas y delgadas. Me pidió más. Entonces pensé por un momento. En mi mente, normalmente paro después de la razón de la sociedad. Pienso que es más que suficiente para estar insatisfecha con mi cuerpo. Pero no era suficiente para él.

Después de unos momentos, saque una memoria babosa y reprimida de su escondite. Ni estaba muy escondida. Imagina un peluche raído con sus orejas asomándose detrás de una almohada sucia en una esquina del cuarto. Cuando era joven, era delgada y hermosa. Hasta era popular en la escuela, ¡imagina eso! Todos me amaban. O, esa es la manera que lo cuenta mi mamá. Aunque ella usa la palabra bonita (no delgada) para describirme en ese entonces.

De todas formas, el hecho sigue siendo que cuando ya no era delgada, empecé a vestirme en playeras color de lodo, flojas y demasiado grandes para esconder mi cuerpo que crecía, pero a los lados. Esto es cuando mi mamá rememoraría. Lo diría con tanto deseo en su voz por lo mientras que intentaba motivarme a hacer algo sobre mi apariencia. Lo que se reusaba a entender era que no me vestiría mejor al menos que estuviera cómoda en mi cuerpo. Y para estar cómoda en mi cuerpo, yo creía que necesitaba bajar de peso.

Mi papá no está completamente sin involucramiento tampoco. Él solía burlarse de mi hermano por estar sobrepeso cuando yo era joven y delgada. Vi eso y participé. Todavía me siento mal por ello. Aunque entiendo que solo estaba siguiendo el ejemplo alrededor de mí. Eso es cuando aprendí que estar gorda no era favorable. También aprendí eso tras la media, programas de televisión, y libros. Aprendí que se burlan de la gente gorda. Otros niños sólo trataron de burlarse de mí una vez. Alguien me llamó guepardo en el segundo grado por mis pecas. Sonreí una sonrisa muy grande y le di las gracias al chamaco que hizo esta observación. Me encantaba correr de niña y mi padre me llamaba guepardo afectuosamente. Estoy tan alegre por la coincidencia. Nadie más trato de burlarse de mí.

…Pues, había ese chico que me escupía en el autobús en la secundaria, pero el sólo era raro. No era personal. Gracias papá, por ayudarme a evitar el ciclo de burlamiento. Unos años después reflexioné en el momento que me el niño me llamó guepardo y en consejos de la televisión y libros que recomiendan que te rías en la cara de gente que se burla de ti. Decían que buscan una reacción. Si no se las das, no van a querer molestarte. No serás divertido. De alguna manera esto sirvió sin querer.

Lo que intento decir en esta publicación larga y divagadora es que aprendí de joven por varios medios que ser delgada = éxito. Iguala a la felicidad. Mi mamá hablaría sobre su peso con arrepentimiento. Diría que mi papá prefiere mujeres delgadas. Como si las pantallas de televisión no me estuvieran gritando esta preferencia lo suficiente fuerte. Al mismo tiempo, ella y varios más me cantaron alabanzas cuando logré bajar de peso en la preparatoria (sólo para subir de peso el verano antes de la universidad). Entonces, se convirtió algo que resentir, mi panza. Se convirtió en un símbolo de mis fracasos. Lo que me impide tener éxito. Porque es mucho más fácil pensar “lo único que tengo que hacer es bajar de peso y mi vida se arreglará” en vez de la realidad que es que la vida es multifacética.

Si quiero tener éxito, tengo que ir al dentista, seguir aprendiendo cada día, cepillarme el pelo, pasar tiempo con amigos, y un billón de otras cosas aparte de hacer dieta y ejercicio. Hay tantísimas partes a la vida. Aunque es importante a la salud, ¿por qué debería bajar de peso ser una parte tan (irónicamente) grande? Usualmente es la primera cosa en mi lista de goles que quiero cumplir. No es que no sepa como bajar de peso. Prácticamente tengo un Bachilleres en eso. (Mi Bachilleres es Nutrición y Dietética.) Hay factores personales en el camino, como el hecho que pongo ser delgada en el pedestal de éxito. Si es tan importante, también es muy intimidante trabajar en ello.

No sé qué es mejor: trabajar en los problemas subyacentes o en el problema en sí. Medicamente, estoy obesa. Yo sé, no le ayuda a mi credibilidad admitir eso. ¿Quién le cree a la gente gorda? Sólo son flojos. (<– Un medio chiste.) No sé si debería trabajar en cambiar como pienso o seguir adelante para adaptar un estilo de vida más saludable. Tengo miedo de que si me enfoco en mis pensamientos sólo llegaré a aceptar lo que es malo para mi salud (como estar sobre peso y un estilo de vida sedentario).

La obesidad es un precursor para muchas enfermedades como la cardiopatía y diabetes. También te sube el riesgo de tener ciertos canceres como el cáncer de mama. No quiero estar cómoda en mi peso excesivo. Pero, también temo cambiar mi vida a una más saludable en donde estoy en un peso saludable para mí y en que estoy activa físicamente. Temo verme exitosa, pero estar rota en mis creencias. No quiero cambiar mi exterior si mi interior no cambia también.

Entonces estoy en un impasse. La solución, como yo la veo, es trabajar en ambas de mis creencias equivocadas. Trabajar en mis pensamientos que dicen que ser delgada iguala ser exitosa y en mis hábitos no saludables como no hacer ejercicio. Si sólo fuera así de fácil. Gracias. Sinceramente, gracias Richard por preguntarme esa pregunta invasiva. Al contestarte a ti encuentro las repuestas sobre mi indecisión. He estado en este estado de querer hacer algo sobre mi peso y no querer hacer nada sin saber por qué por años. Ahora veo que es por dos factores en oposición (mi percepción de ser delgada, que me significa eso, y la realidad de peso como un factor en correlación a la salud).

Ahora solo tengo que convencerme a empezar. Tal vez iré a correr y después me daré un cumplido por haber tomado la iniciativa. Después de todo, el progreso (no la delgadez) es éxito.