Resolutions

After my post from yesterday, I wanted to write about something lighter than death. The new year started on a very depressing note, but I believe that life is not just full of depressing events and things; it’s also full of happiness and need for improvement.

Here are my resolutions and plans to keep them.

1. I will get a physical every year (like I should).

I just switched over to a different health insurance company, and the majority of doctors up at school are covered under that company, so this shouldn’t be as big of a problem for me. I will take the time to research the doctors I feel are good, and then go when I’m off from work and school (I’m hoping either Monday, Wednesday, or Friday).

2. I will get my eyes checked and my glasses fixed.

This might just happen this upcoming Tuesday. My aunt’s funeral is on the 8th, and I’m coming down from school on the 7th. I will make an appointment and I. WILL. GO.

3. I will start flossing again.

This is really hard for me to do. I was so diligent with it before I went up to school, and then life happened and flossing didn’t seem incredibly important anymore.

4. I want to break my caffeine addiction

This seems really, really hard. I love coke and coffee and tea, and when I don’t have caffeine my head feels like it’s splitting into a million little pieces with a hot ice pick. I really don’t know how I will achieve this one. I just know that this is a very big problem I have.

5. I WILL exercise more!

Gym. Walks. Group class. ANYTHING. I will get into shape (and learn how to life weights because cardio isn’t the only thing that I need to do). I will work around my school and work schedule, and go to the gym at school, which also happens to be FREE for me to use. 

NO EXCUSES, STEPHANIE!

6. I will eat healthier!

Maybe it’s because of the health problems that plague my family, but this is important, and I really need to eat healthier. This means eat more fruits and veggies, drink more water, and watch my portions. I will take my lunch to work instead of buying food. I’ll stop eating at work because 1) it’s against company policy; even though, everyone does it and 2) it’s not good for me to eat all the time at work.

7. I will play piano and sing more.

I have a keyboard. I have sheet music. I have my voice. THIS SHOULDN’T BE A PROBLEM.

8. I will read more books.

There are several books I need to finish reading and start reading. Just to name a few:

Lord of the Rings (God help me, J.R.R. Tolkien, IF LEGOLAS SINGS ONE MORE SONG, I WILL SLAY HIM WITH A MORGUL BLADE!)

A Song of Ice and Fire: A Feast of Crows (The fourth book; however, with the passing of my aunt, this might be difficult to pick back up again. It’s so dark and gruesome that I don’t think I can handle it right now.)

Unwind by Neal Shusterman (This book is really good, but super dark. It’s about how, in a world where abortions are illegal, children between the ages of 13 and 18 can be “unwound” if their parents don’t want to deal with them anymore. Basically they are killed and all of their organs are given to other people just because their parents can’t seem to handle being parents. The story follows three kids who are trying to escape the government and the unwinding process. Again, so far it’s really good but really dark).

The Eyes of the Dragon by Stephen King (I haven’t started it yet, but apparently it’s King’s version of a fairy tale).

Just Babies: The Origins of Good and Evil by Paul Bloom (A psychology professor from Yale examines the origins of good and evil by analyzing the works of philosophers, psychologists, and even comedians. It’s really interesting so far.)

Paper Towns by John Green (I can’t remember what this is about, but I bought it tonight because I really wanted to read a book by Green. I’m excited)

10. I will do better in school than I did last semester.

Writing notes on paper and on the computer, color coding notes, Cornell style note taking, and studying more will be my biggest help for a successful semester.

11. I want to write more and be a better blogger.

I just need to remember and make time for all of this. 

12. I want to draw more.

I got an art kit for Christmas and two new sketch pads. If I can’t keep this resolution, then I have a problem.

13. I will budget my money better.

I don’t know how, but I will. >.<

So here are my resolutions. Since I made them public, I hope I can stick to them.

So here’s to a new year, a new you, and a new me! I hope your resolutions are as challenging as they are fun!

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Christmas, Cancer, and the One Thing I Dreaded Most…

First and foremost, I hope everyone had a wonderful and happy Christmas and New Year. You all deserve it. Every. Single. One. Of. You.

Secondly, it’s so painful for me to say that on January 1st, 2014 at 1:24 am, my wonderful aunt Christine died from stage IV Cutaneous T-Cell Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma and HUS (Hemolytic Uremic Syndrome).

Many things happened this Christmas season. I came home for Christmas break on December 18th. Two days before, my aunt was transferred from Novant Hospital in Charlotte, to the Duke University Hospital. She wasn’t getting the treatment or care she needed, and maybe that’s why all of this happened. I visited her the 16th and the 17th of December, right before I came home. Her skin was peeling, but she seemed fine. She was laughing and talking enthusiastically about the Christmas presents she was getting everyone. For days she seemed okay. Completely healthy.

And then it began.

On December 23rd, my aunt’s heart rate and blood pressure dropped so low that she ended up in a coma.

On December 24th, she woke from her coma, and talked with the doctor. She was sicker than what anyone thought she was. The cancer was ravaging her body, and the HUS completely shut down her kidneys and were starting to take over her other organs. Her doctor told her that there was really no more that they could do. She had to chose between quality of life and quantity of life. Quality would mean that she wouldn’t have as many treatments done, and she would be given more pain medication, and she would only live for a few more days. Quantity would entail all of her usual treatments and procedures, and she may have lived for at most a week. Quality = comfort. Quantity = excruciating pain. My aunt called us on Christmas day to say hello to everyone. She began crying over the phone to my grandmother, but I don’t know about what.

On December 25th, my mother (her sister), my grandmother (her mother), her husband, Tim, and I went up to see her. Her skin had gotten worse. She couldn’t move her mouth much because sores coated the inside of her mouth, making it difficult to talk. She couldn’t move her arms, hands, or legs. The nurses came in and moved her legs to rotate her. She moaned and cried and begged them to stop. I couldn’t handle it and had to leave the room. Later the doctor came in and told us that she was extremely sick, and that all treatments would eventually fail, and she would die.

On December 27th, I came back up to Duke with Laura, my younger middle sister, and Tim. We stayed for a few hours, and then went back home. My aunt was asleep the whole time, but I was okay with that. She needed her rest.

On January 1st, at 1:25 am, my aunt passed away.

I’m devastated. I felt so close to my aunt, and she’s not here anymore. I thought that since I knew what was going to happen, I would be okay and accepting of her death, but I’m not. The entire day has been so grey. Like I’m looking through a screen. My body is doing the normal things it should be doing while my mind is in ten thousand places at once. I hardly cried all day, but I attribute that to Tim keeping me preoccupied. Now I’m lying at home, in my bed crying. Not the beautiful, movie star crying, but the two-year old crying. Snotty and red faced and hard enough to make my body sore.

Aunt Christine was 41. She would have been 42 this year. She has two children.

She’s not going to see me graduate college.

She’s not going to see me get married.

I’m never going to see her again.

I hurt so bad, and there’s nothing I can do.

Rest in peace Aunt Christine. I hope the afterlife is real because missing you hurts so bad.

I love you. I will always love you, you amazing woman.

This Is How We Grieve

Thought Catalog

First, find out. Find out while you’re at work or driving or talking to your neighbor—some compromising situation in which you can’t show the proper emotion in that moment. Fight tears and feign normalcy. It did not happen.

Refuse to believe. This is the denial part of the five stages, and you’re doing it right. It could not have happened. It did not happen. They were so young. Too good. No way did this happen. It must be a joke.

But it’s not a joke. So, cry. Cry a lot. Don’t cry cute, movie star tears. Cry huge, snotty nosed, red faced, chest heaving tears. Do not stop for anything. Because you owe this to them. You owe them your tears. So keep crying until you feel like a sponge squeezed dry. Then cry more, even though there’s nothing left to squeeze.

Cry in front of your family. They’ll all…

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Asylum by Madeleine Roux – Review

Asylum

ASYLUM – MADELEINE ROUX

2 out of 5 stars

I love reading, and I enjoy many different books. I picked up Asylum because of the description on the jacket of the book and the cover itself. It looked terrifying and suspenseful and amazingly creepy, and I couldn’t wait to read it. I needed a break from A Feast for Crows (let’s be honest, I haven’t met a single person who didn’t struggle with finishing the fourth book), yet I feel like I chose the wrong book.

This is first one of my (hopefully) many book reviews.

THE PLOT:

Asylum is about a sixteen year old boy named Daniel Crawford who enrolls in a summer program for gifted students at a college called New Hampshire College. The dorm where he and other students are staying for 5 weeks used to be an old asylum called Brookline that was renovated into a dorm building for the college. At this program, Dan becomes friends with Abby and Jordan. Dan and his friends explore Brookline and discover secrets of the building’s past, and odd occurrences begin to happen.

Romance, chaos, and murder ensue.

THE MAIN (and some other) CHARACTERS:

Daniel Crawford: Sixteen year old boy, who is a foster child. He also suffers from “Mild Dissociative Disorder.” Quiet, studious, shy, closed off.

Abby Valdez: Girl around Dan’s age (blatant love interest). Open, outgoing, adventurous.

Jordan: Dan and Abby’s friend. Anxious, studious.

Felix: Dan’s roommate.

The Warden (Daniel Crawford): The Warden when Brookline was still used as an asylum. Focuses on immortality and the spreading of his legacy.

Dennis Heimline: Serial killer called the Sculptor that was “cured” but disappeared after the asylum closed down.

MY REACTION

Let me start from right before I opened the book. The cover is dark. An old black and white photograph of a girl standing in the doorway graces the cover of the book. Her head is a blur as the photo catches her turning her head to the side. A pattern that looks like possible water marks are imprinted on the photograph in an attempt to make it look old, while the sentence “Prepare to be lost in…” is typed at the top in white, and “ASYLUM” is etched in a light green underneath. It’s a creepy cover, and I was so excited to crack the book open and be thoroughly creeped out.

I love ghosts; I’ve always been fascinated with the paranormal, and I was so happy to find a book that deals with the paranormal.

Then I began to read it…

I was 50 pages in when I found my first grammatical error, and I told myself that it’s a normal occurrence, editors and authors can’t catch every mistake that’s in the book. However, I began to find more and more spelling and grammatical errors, and my inner English nerd cringed in pain each time I saw a new mistake.

Furthermore, the plot could have been amazing. An old building that used to hold not only the mentally insane, many of whom were criminals is terrifying in itself; add the fact that many patients died in the asylum due to illegal procedures and a bunch of teenagers who are exploring places where they shouldn’t be, and you’ve got a pretty solid ghost story. However the plot is poorly executed; it moves incredibly fast without any real description of the sights, sounds, and goings-on, and it causes some of the plot to make no sense. You miss big chunks of the story because the foreshadowing was so incredibly discrete that Roux actually explains it again later. You meet a character with the last name Bittle. The name comes up one time before when the trio is going through medical records. The name Bittle isn’t focused on and seems to be unimportant. Time is wasted because you have to go back to re-read what you missed.

There is absolutely no character development, making the characters just seem like they are going through the motions without any real feeling or objective. Characters in a story should be carefully crafted, each having their own quirks and personalities. Dan is the main character. You learn he was adopted after being moved from foster home to foster home. He has, according to Roux, “Mild Dissociative Disorder,” but you don’t learn about his disorder until the end of the book. Dan talks about attacks that he gets throughout the book (it is written in first person), but you have no clue what it could be. I assumed he suffered from Generalized Anxiety Disorder, so when “Mild Dissociative Disorder” was mentioned I was shocked and confused. Throughout the entire book, the reader is convinced that there is some paranormal activity happening, and towards the end, the author just drops the fact that the events that were occurring were more than likely psychological, yet you read twenty more pages, and you can’t figure out if it is psychological or something else! Furthermore, there is no actually physical description of Dan anywhere. He’s just this faceless anomaly to me.

Abby’s character serves some relevance to the plot, but not much. Her character was frustratingly dry, and she had three emotions: happy, incredibly upset, and irritatingly angry. The stereotype of women being “batshit crazy” is reinforced in this one character, and it is an extremely frustrating sight to be hold. Yes, adolescents are prone to have extremely harsh mood swings, but hers were so incomprehensible that I rolled my eyes every time. Roux takes the time to vaguely describe Abby, and the only thing I remember about her is that she was short with black hair.

Jordan was completely useless to the plot. He argued with Dan and Abby, and his mood swings were (dare I say it?) worse than Abby’s! Furthermore, his mood swings made no sense. He had no point except to maybe, and this is a huge maybe, add some comic relief to the otherwise transparent yet confusing plot. Jordan wasn’t physically described at all, and I just assumed that because he tried to exude confidence he was similar to a jock.

Felix was mentioned only every now and then, but he proved to be a huge part of the plot (especially at the end). However, not much was said about him except that he was a nerd who worked out constantly.

The Warden and Dennis make appearances throughout the book, and they are a huge part of the plot, but the only things I can say about their characters were that they both were insane.

The conflict was little to none in this book, unless you count the petty fights that Abby, Dan, and Jordan had in every chapter, and you knew they would still be friends. In fact, it felt as if Roux tried to mimic the relationship that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had in Harry Potter, but couldn’t achieve it.

There was no suspense, no tension, no passion!

It was a mess, and in all honesty, I’ve read fanfiction that was more captivating and beautifully written.

The book wasn’t thrilling or captivating or terrifying nor will it stay with me. The characters were vague and so underdeveloped. The plot had holes, and the book itself had so many typos and grammatical errors.

I was expecting creepy, but I didn’t even get a chill going down my spine. The author adds pictures of abandoned asylums throughout the book. While some are in fact quite spooky, they tend to get old and do nothing for the story. Madeleine Roux could have made this a million times better, and it’s a shame that I feel this way because it was an incredibly quick read, which is something I enjoy in a book.

I hope this review helped.

A Long Day

It’s interesting. I’ve had an extremely long day, but I haven’t really done anything. I played games until 4 pm, then I watched Mythbusters with Tim, went to the grocery store, and visited my aunt in the hospital.

I guess I started today off on a bad note. My sister called me at 9:30 this morning because I forgot to return her phone call two days ago. I went back to sleep, and an hour later, I woke up and checked Facebook (because it’s just that important). That same sister updated her status saying that she had a biopsy done today. I wasn’t told that about the biopsy, but apparently, the doctor hadn’t planned to administer it but felt like it was a good idea to do.

My middle sister has this rash that’s been spreading, and many people would just think, “oh it’s a rash,” and it might just be. However, it could be more. My aunt has stage 4 Cutaneous T-Cell Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. It’s a blood cancer that affects 15% of all Non-Hodgkin Lymphomas in the country, and it’s aggressive (Lymphoma). See, my aunt’s cancer showed up in a weird way. Her skin began to itch and peel at first, and the doctors thought it was eczema. Then they thought it was psoriasis. Then they thought it was MRSA. Finally they found the cancer, but it was already too late. The doctor said that the cancer probably started forming when she was a teenager.

My middle sister, has eczema, but it’s spreading, and it’s bad. She had the biopsy done to rule out the same type of cancer my aunt has. I’m terrified, but I feel selfish. How can I be terrified when she is the one who personally has to deal with the waiting? I just don’t want my sister to be sick. I already have to see my aunt struggle. She’s been in the hospital for 80 days, and she’s back up here at Duke with no chance of getting discharged for Christmas.

I’ve been worried all day. I have eczema, but I rarely break out, and it’s usually at the crease of my elbow, and it’s recently been behind my knee. However, as soon as it appears and I put my cream on it, it goes away. I’m just scared, and I don’t know what to do.  

Cancer has always been a part of my family history. It feels like each generation isn’t safe from it, and they aren’t. The only thing I can think about is the fact that you are never too old to get cancer, and I wish people would stop trying to tell me otherwise. I just hope that my younger sisters, both of them, are okay.

 

 

Lymphoma Research Foundation. (2012). Cutaneous T-Cell Lymphoma (CTCL). Retrieved from: http://www.lymphoma.org/site/pp.asp?c=bkLTKaOQLmK8E&b=6300151

Anxiety

My anxiety has gotten worse over the course of the semester. I feel it engulf me and spit me out. It happens over and over and over again. I may not have an attack for a week, and I begin to think, “I may actually be okay.”

…And then it happens…

Without any warning, my mind drifts to things I shouldn’t think about, my chest tightens, my breathing becomes shallow, and I can’t escape. 

Anxiety attacks, like those, happen to me all the time; they’ve happened to me since I was a child. I remember my first panic attack happened to me when I was ten, during the middle of mass on a Sunday afternoon. I couldn’t do anything but be quiet because I was with a friend and I couldn’t disturb the priest and the people around me.

That was the first time it happened, and it’s always been the same.

Death…

Death haunts me wherever I go. I see death in everything. Every joyous occasion is glazed over by a black veil that reminds me that I have a fleeting moment on this earth. That I will turn into dust and be no more. My mind just can’t handle that idea, and I never know how to make it better.

My boyfriend and my other friends don’t seem to really understand. Most of them are atheists and are completely okay with the idea of death, and a few are religious and believe that there is life beyond death.

Me?

I don’t know what to think. All I know is that death is one of the main worries of people who have Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and I fit a lot of the symptoms. I just know I shouldn’t diagnose myself.

Sometimes, I feel like dying. Just to see what it would be like. My life isn’t bad. In fact, it’s extremely good. I have Tim, and he makes me so incredibly happy, and Charlotte is an amazing friend. My family may be crazy, but I’m happy I have a family that is happy with my future plans. 

When I get like this, I think of everyone who has lived and died. I think about the times that seem permanent are only temporary, and when I die, I won’t have this anxiety anymore, but the fact that I won’t continue to live bothers me. 

I’m just tired of crying and my chest tightening and feel anxious all the time and then have these random outbursts where I can’t calm down, and all I want to is hurt myself.

Failure and What Ifs?

Hello lovely person who still follows my blog; even though, I have been terrible at keeping up with it. When was my last post? Late September? Early October? Needless to say, that I am very bad at this whole blogging thing, and for that, I apologize.

This semester has been my main priority, and it has been a “shit-storm” of a semester.

School is a mix of emotions that I cannot seem to describe. It goes so slow. I dread each day because I feel like I am the only person in the class who is not incredibly smart, but I just cannot wait for it to end. On top of that, it feels like it is going by so fast, I have about a week left until finals. *Chokes on sobs of anxiety* School has made me realize that I despise and fear failure, when in all honesty, failing is probably the most important thing that can happen to you in your life. You learn from failing, but the whole process rips you to your core and exposes you to all of your insecurities making you feel vulnerable… But are you not more interesting for failing at something and gaining wisdom and knowledge from that failure? I should think and hope so… Otherwise, I will have achieved nothing.

I had something else that I wanted to get out of my mind. My “What if?”

Now, many people have a “what if?” in their lives. Some may think about their lost love or that job that sounded fantastic except the decrease in pay, but mine is about college. As you know, I got to UNC, one of the top schools for academics and one of the most respected universities in the country (except that may have declined since the AFAM-Football scandal, which I think is by far the funniest thing to ever happen at UNC… EVER). UNC has a fantastic psychology program, which is my major, and the campus is… pretty… I would not go so far as to call it beautiful, but it isn’t all brick like NC State (Sorry WolfPack, all brick just is not my style). However, I do not feel at home here. AT ALL. UNC has this thing called the Carolina Way. You do not cheat, lie, steal, break any laws (all of these which seem normal to almost everyone), and you, the student, are extremely courteous and outstanding and incredibly smart and you have an insane amount of school pride. See, I am good with everything the Carolina Way stands for, except school pride. I am not proud of my school. In fact, when I tell people “I go to Carolina,” I usually don’t make eye contact and I mumble that sentence. Most people’s attitudes change once I tell them where I go. I have had people assume that I am wealthy (and they could not be more wrong) or that I am arrogant (I hope they are wrong, but perceptions change from person to person). In all honesty, I hate UNC. I transferred to this university during my junior year, so my pride for this school was little to begin with, but once school started, I realized that I just did not fit in at all. After that realization, I began to realize other things I did not like about the campus. I do not like sports, so why am I here? I do not care about the rivalry between Duke and UNC (it is so pointless), so why am I here? I force myself to get out of bed every morning, when all I want to do is hide like I used to when I was five, so why am I here?

It makes me wonder about the other schools that I could have gone to but never applied. Which leads me to my “what if?”

During my sophomore year at community college, I kept getting letters of interest from Cornell University, an Ivy League school. My mother wanted me to apply so bad, but I did not want to do what my mother wanted me to do, so I never applied. I said it was because I did not want to be away from Tim and that it was just cheaper for me to go to school instate and that I did not like New York (sorry, New York, you’re just too cold for me). Now, while all of these are true, there is one excuse I never used because I knew it would have hurt my mother’s feelings. I did not apply to Cornell University because I did not want her to get her way…

But, now I am lying on my couch at 2:11 in the morning wondering “what if?” What if I had applied to Cornell University? What if I had gotten in? Would I have fit in? Would I have more school pride? Would I feel smarter? Eat better? Smile more? Not dread every day when I wake up in the morning? Would I be happier with my education?

I am so close to graduating that I promised myself to tough it out. Getting any degree from UNC looks good, but I know that each day that leads up to graduation, I die a little inside, my pride dies a little, and my mind always wanders to Cornell University. What if that was the university for me, and now I may never know.

So, how are you, my fellow blogger? I hope you are swell! It would be a shame if you weren’t. Furthermore, what is your “what if?”

Work, Weddings, and Weight: The Beginnings of Insanity

Work is all that I have been doing these past few weeks. Work in school, work in my actual job, and work to keep up what few relationships I have. It’s enough to cause people to go crazy. I know my stress and anxiety levels have soared. School may very well be the death of me, seeing as this has been my hardest semester. I dropped my history class because it turns out that I didn’t need it to graduate; even though, the university website said I did. I have one (that’s right, read it, I said ONE) midterm that spans three days this week, and I have another midterm on Monday. Assignments and projects and papers pile up, and I feel buried, and once, I feel like I’ve done a good portion of work, I get more school work that I have to do. Furthermore, my job itself is work. My manager is extremely nice to me, but she is a very assertive and dominating force. I tend to be really anxious around her because I don’t want to irritate her. I try to do my job to the best of my abilities, but sometimes, I feel like I’m not good enough, so I work even harder, and I get more anxious. She notices too. She gave me a list of things to do one night, and told me, “Don’t do all of this by yourself, you have two other people here.” Which is nice, but at the same time, the people I was working with were slow and they slack off. I like things done a certain way, and they don’t do it right. I also had my hours cut because I couldn’t handle my job and school at the same time, so now my paychecks will suck. C’est la vie.

This Saturday I will be a bridesmaid in the wedding of one of my best friends. I’m excited, yet terrified all at the same time. The dress is a style that I really can’t pull off because I have curves. It’s strapless and the cut is pretty low, and I just feel awkward in it. It’s royal blue and satin, and we’re pinning a sunflower on it because it’s a Marine wedding, and the colors are blue and yellow. I put the dress on, and I feel like a giant blueberry. The wedding itself has been stressing me out because I’ll be missing a full day of school, and I need to study for my midterm I have on Monday. However, I am very excited and happy for her.

Speaking of the bridesmaid dress, I’ve been going to the gym all the time to try to fit into it. I can finally zip it all the way up, but I still feel like a beached whale. My mother is probably the reason for all of this. Everytime I see her, she asks if I’ve gained weight. The funny thing is that other people I see ask me the opposite. “You look great, have you lost weight?” I do my best to eat healthy, and I do cardio all the time. I should probably do some weight training, but I have no clue how to do any of that, and I don’t really want to look like a dork in front of athletic people. This whole fixation on weight is stupid. I always believed that cultivating your mind was so much more important than the number on the scale, but this woman, my mother, drills it into my head that I’m bigger than I used to be, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel guilty after eating anything, and I constantly wonder about what I can eat that would make me thinner. I feel like she won’t be happy until I’m back at a size three, and I’ll probably have an eating disorder, but she wouldn’t want to know about that because our family doesn’t have problems.

All of this is causing the downward spiral that is my life. I’ve been wanting to self harm more and more, but I have ways to not do that. I draw on myself with a red pen or marker to make it seem like I have cut without actually doing it. It works pretty well actually. I know I have a good life, and I know there are people who have it worse than I do, but that doesn’t change how I feel. 

 

Lately…

As I look out the window into the darkness, I think, in my half-drunken state, about my life. It’s full of stress that I’m sure many other people feel, yet I feel helpless. Engulfed by a hopelessness, a numbness, and a hatred of myself, I glance at the word I carved into my thigh. It’s there, under the yoga pants. “Stupid.” I am ashamed. Ashamed by the thought, the notion, the adjective. How can I be stupid? 

“Simple,” my hollow mind states back. “You are stupid.”

Stupid because you are struggling this semester. 

Stupid for thinking that you could be a psychologist.

Stupid for thinking you were smart. 

My pride has been destroyed. Crushed and mixed together with my hopes and dreams.

And the word I dug into my leg reminds me that I am stupid.

The world revolves, yet I feel stuck, as if I were dreaming. I’m running but never moving.

Lately, I feel my depression sinking back into my body, and I just exist.

I scream silently, in my head, for help, yet I try to prove that I am strong. I am not.

Day 24 – What’s Your Favorite Movie and Why?

My favorite movie is The Lord of the Rings series. I love it because it makes me feel peaceful and happy when I watch it. I love Middle Earth, and I think Peter Jackson does a fantastic job bring Tolkien’s world and characters to life. I know all the words to The Fellowship of the Rings. The music and the scenery and the script. I love it all. I know he doesn’t follow the book, but with a book that long, how can you?