Why Anxiety Sucks Butts 101: Surviving with a Controlling Mind ... Barely

It's all the same, it just blends in to my thoughts. Everything and nothing is swirling and twirling its way through my brain and you're just adding to the mess. Your words go through one ear and out the other. I hear you, I just don't understand you. You're doing everything you shouldn't be doing which is why I need to be alone. Stop trying to help me, stop trying to fix me, stop feeling sorry for me. Because I'm done feeling sorry for me.

This isn't just a jumble of sentences in an argument or even a paragraph of an advice column. No, what this is is what my brain is going through during anxiety. I have these strains of thoughts that violently flood me and sometimes I say these out loud to real people, and sometimes I have imaginary arguments in my head with no one in particular. The amount of time I spend doing this varies on so many things and right now it seems to be worsening.

I happened to come home for winter break only a week ago, which to most everyone seems like the least stressful of times because you're with your family, you're in your old bedroom, you're playing around with your weird pets, and you're going about your daily life as if you were still young enough to not have a care in the world. But oh no, no, my dears. For me, although I do have my happy catch-up moments with my family and old friends, this part in time is a disaster. Disaster might seem harsh in this case, but it's all I could come up with while still moderately an anxious mess, so bear with me.

*gasp* "But Maddy, how would you ever think that being with your cozy family in your cozy home with your cozy memories would be a bad thing?!" BECAUSE I HAVE NO ROUTINE, PEOPLE. That's right, I have no routine, no schedule, no deadlines. Nothing I need to plan for. And that in itself gives me raging anxiety. No, this isn't some form of obsessive compulsive disorder where I need it or I'll go nuts, but I basically slowly begin to go crazy because every single day is so vastly different that it essentially scares me. Another unfortunate side effect of having so much downtime is that I have more time to think and more time to myself.

Any person in the world with any level of anxiety in them would now be crying and screaming at that last sentence in resounding agreement. Why? Well, apparent normal person, people with anxiety do not want and do not ever need any extra long stretches of time EVER. Because you know what downtime and thinking causes? Sadness. Anger. Fear. More sadness. Exhaustion. More fear. Lots of fear. Lots of anger. Bouts of crying. Annoyance. And above all: Confusion. Cause really, as if the amount of free time isn't enough, why not throw in a cloud of confusion over all your emotions because WHY ARE YOU FEELING THIS WAY AND WHY CAN'T IT GO AWAY WHEN PEOPLE SAY, "It'll be okay. You're going to be okay." Yeah, let's shut up and never say that phrase ever again or I may scold you.

That's one of those things that's sucked the most about having anxiety. Telling people when you have these problems/thoughts/"symptoms" apparently is supposed to help you somehow (???What since when what who when what HOW???). Like I can see how talking about it to professionals can give you better understanding (trust me when I say that I've gotten more insight than I could have imagined with this route), but you never actually have raging, full-blown, crazy anxiety when you're talking to them because that's just not how things seem to work. No, you have raging, full-blown, crazy anxiety when you're around normal people who don't understand why you're so crabby and weird.

"You're going to be okay! I know you are!"
Me: Shut up that phrase never works get away from me forever you know nothing.

"You've been through this before, you'll know how to get through it."
Me: But I feel like I'm dying right now AND THE FUTURE DOES NOT HELP ME IN THIS MOMENT. (Literally guys, the definition of anxiety is fear of the future. So saying "Remember the past because it'll give you a future to look forward to" does not work at all. Fun fact. You're welcome.)

"Use your tricks!"
Me: I cannot solely rely on the methods I have had in the past that have gotten me through panic attacks, people. Surprise, not every single stinking situation is the same!

"Did you try this? Do you need me to get you something? Maybe you should lay down for a little bit. Try walking around more."
Me: Hey, yeah, cool just throw out as many suggestions as possible in eight seconds and maybe my swirling thoughts will subside, you're a genius! And laying down for a little bit? Alone? With my thoughts? For a long period of time? Gee, you must be an anxiety EXPERT.

I could very literally list book-loads more of these phrases I've been told over the years, you really have no idea. Yes, it does suck that no one can help me during my anxious episodes, but you know what ends up being even more annoying? When I've already told them multiple times in the past that they can't help me during these moments and they still choose to pretend they know what they're doing and like they're going to cure me of my ailments. Like hey, yeah, let's just leave me alone and it'll go away sooner, yay bye!

But anyways, reining back in, I'm kind of a mess at home right now. I'm kind of losing my mind during parts of the day and I often find myself wandering aimlessly through the house, rolling on the ground whilst looking around the room in confusion, and/or staring at inanimate objects until I can make my mind focus solely on one thing (Fun fact: Never effective, yet I still try it.). I guess you could say that's the beauty of anxiety, that you have to fight through it. That it makes you feel strong and like you can move mountains and make your life that much more meaningful. Yet here I am, a seventh year struggler, if you will, still going through the motions, still not being able to get my brain under control.

It sucks, I'm not going to fluff it up for anyone mostly because I can't. It's not something I'm proud of dealing with even though I've told people it is. Anxiety isn't me, it's a part of me, yet I somehow forget each and every one of those insightful words once I'm in an anxious state of mind. It sucks. It seriously sucks and I wish I could give you every single thing I'm thinking right now and put it into words to show you what this is like. But I can't, so writing random things down is as close as I can get. My anxiety just loses me. I'm everything and I'm nothing and it's actually super scary.

I don't like eating, I don't like sleeping, I don't like reading, I don't like talking. I don't like doing relaxing yoga poses. I don't like sitting in a chair. I don't like looking at people. I don't like sitting. I don't like standing. I don't like thinking.

But guess what I'm doing. I'm thinking. And I'm thinking about everything and nothing because I can't stop and no one is stopping me because they can't. I'm lost, I'm being eaten, I'm being swallowed, I'm confused, I'm tired, I'm wounded. I can't come back from anxiety the same as I was before. I just have to go through the same motions and expect myself to deal with the future. I can't run from any of this at all. I'm stuck.

But I'm going to get past this someday. That I can plan for.

First Comes Worth, Then Comes Caring...

worth
noun
Definition: usefulness of importance, as to the world, to a person, for a purpose

This is one of those words that bops around in my head all the time, especially as I get older. No, I'm not having thoughts of taking my own life and no I am not depressed, let's get that straight here. I'm just always curious about the idea of worth in people's eyes. It's one of those words that shows up so often in everyday disputes and decisions that sometimes it goes so unnoticed.

"Is he/she/it really worth it?"
"Will that be worth your time?"
"You're worth more than that and you know it."

If you ask me, the word that strongly correlates to worth is enough. Is this enough, have I done enough, will I be enough? Have I done enough to be considered worth it? I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think the average person thinks these things on a fairly regular basis. Regardless of situation and direct admittance to these exact questions I've stated, it's fair to say I'm right.

Every twist and turn and flip life throws our way, we're always first questioning our abilities. How can you show that you're enough? How can you exemplify your worth enough so that it's actually helpful? Can you achieve what's expected of you, or do you see yourself falling short? The endless possibilities are floating through your mind while you try your hardest to pin down the times you did feel enough.

I really think that's one of the hardest things to do sometimes, depending on the situation: remembering when you felt worth it and using the knowledge you have of yourself to assess it. Cause I don't know about you, but when I start thinking about all the times I've doubted myself and my abilities, they start eating me up.

Remember that one time all your friends got a perfect on the test, and you got barely a C? Or that other time when that guy tried asking you out and you said no because you thought you weren't ready enough? Or what about when you were so lost in your own world that you couldn't be a decent daughter that day? Why couldn't you take a leap and try to be better than who you think you are?

It seems so easy for someone to say to this "Am I worthy?" problem, "You are SO enough! Look how far you've come!" But honestly, shut up. There are so many people in your life that can say the tiniest little things that actually make you blow up. Questioning your entire relationship with people so close to you is probably the most unhealthy thing ever. I go days obsessing over one little comment someone made about me and I can't help but wonder how worth it I  really am to stick around.

It's like this: No one ever wants to hear from their loved ones (both family and friends included) that something they did was stupid or something they said shouldn't have been said. It's just hard not having that validation from everyone, because you just start expecting it.

But there's really a difference between being worthy of other people and being worthy of yourself. Obviously, you're gonna have more criticism for yourself because, well, it's you. You can take it. You've been through tons of crap. But what really throws a loop in being enough is when other people are better than you. Being jealous and comparing yourself to others is about the worst thing you could do to yourself in terms of wanting to feel enough, but the best thing when it comes to bettering yourself.

Instead of seeing it as 'She got a perfect on that test and you got five wrong', you could see it as 'I did pretty good for the hardest section of the class.' But, like me, you're probably looking at that like, 'Psh. Yeah right. Do you KNOW how hard it is to just automatically switch your brain around to think that in that situation?' Exactly. But bettering yourself takes EFFORT and effort can't exist without actual motivation.

So what am I saying exactly? Worthiness shouldn't be everything you think about. If it takes of part of your day, great. If it takes up all of your thoughts you have while thinking about that one person, then maybe something needs to be done. Being so consumed with thoughts of whether or not you're worth a person's energy and time is so easy to do, but so harmful in reality.

Be gentle with yourself. Being worthy of someone's love and time isn't what you should be thinking so much about. It's whether or not you're worth your own time. Whether you spend enough time seeing yourself as a decent person amidst chaos and problems you have to face. Whether you can be better in this situation than you have been in the past.

Writing Stuff: My Precious Outlet

As you can probably already assume by now, I have a secret (or not-so-secret in this case) passion for writing. I like seeing words appear on the screen before me, forming organizes paragraphs and papers, and even going out of my way to make sentences more exciting. Now my childhood didn't consist of tons and tons of filled journals, secrets and annoyances flooding each and every page, but I definitely took dents at some. Even looking back now, I love seeing how my thoughts have changed and even matured, if you will.

So basically, I see my passion for writing as a great strength. Nine times out of ten, I'd rather write a letter to someone than actually confront them in person about my true feelings. Heck, I've already written three letters to a guy who I've talked to maybe five times telling him how drawn to him I am. Yeah. That's right. You heard me. Drawn to him. My word choice has purpose, people. I mean, obviously I haven't posted any of them on here nor have I intended to send them to him any time soon, I just like seeing my feelings written out.

My very first year of college, which literally just ended a little over two months ago, I learned so much more than I pictured learning. Honestly, elementary, middle, and high school flew by me so fast that I can hardly remember which Native American tribe settled where and what books I had to write papers about. But college, boy. College is a different story altogether. In a sense, I feel completely alive and alert to my education here. Like I've legitimately matured up to this point for the sole purpose of taking in what I'm learning and soaking it up like a sponge.

As one or multiple of my other posts has likely already mentioned, I've wanted to be a teacher since I was basically told what a teacher was. My brother, less than four years younger than me, has been under my teaching and watchful eye as I learned addition problems and how to differentiate "there" from "their." Our school-playing was my peak into that lifestyle that I thought I knew so much about, but only my continued years in school could teach me. I marveled endlessly at learning and how much homework I could get done at school versus at home, and how I can balance everything being thrown at me.

But one thing I knew for sure that whole time was that I would never, ever not love school. Which, ideally is going to help me be a bomb-dot-com teacher someday. But ANYWAYS. Back to my point with college. Although these physics equations and ancient photography techniques from my first year there are long since gone, I see the benefits I'm having just holding on to the random lessons that did impact me. I like to consider myself a well-rounded student, but college is starting to drive me in very specific directions now.

One of the very first classes I took in college was a writing class. My approach to this was more on the fearful side, especially considering college has a reputation for "Write a seven-page essay by tomorrow morning!" But by the time the professor handed out the assignment calendar and expectations for the class, I knew right then it was going to be a hundred times more bearable. Actually, it ended up being one of my favorite classes I've taken so far.

I think one thing that I was most drawn to by this required class was how much variance there was in the subject matters. I found myself writing about so many different topics and was able to learn so much more about how writing can be effective. In my high school years, I remember taking an "Intro to Journalism" class which I ended up thoroughly enjoying. I was amazed at how many connections I could make between that class and my simple college writing class, especially in relation to how well I could develop my ideas into a paper.

One other thing I found very, very intriguing about the class was when I had to peer review papers from other students in my class. Not only was I surprised by how great some of them wrote, but I was also shocked in my seat by the number of "thrown together" and strangely bad ones I came across. I had close to no idea what a group of college students would be like academically at my school, but I did have some seriously high hopes coming in.

Another thought I had with this matter is how surprised I was by the number of students in my classes that use the Internet as a means of credibility to their work. For some reason, in all my years of schooling, I never really imagined that using the Internet for questions I have and things I'm unsure about as a resource. I just always assumed things were in the textbook and if I didn't get it there I could ask the teacher. But I had students in one of my other classes (one of my summer classes, actually) use answers from the INTERNET for their quiz answers. ...Honestly, haven't we been learning our entire education journey NOT to plagiarize? Obviously, if your wording and formatting is too good to be recognized as student-written work, YOU WILL GET CAUGHT.

Ugh. People. But in all seriousness, I take my writing very seriously. I pride myself on whipping out papers when I'm finally motivated enough to, and organizing all the required pieces of the paper I need. I take my time and I actually usually care about my writing because I'm putting thought into it.

Like this blog, for example. I never post anything on here that doesn't express how I'm feeling or processing life because I care about my product. I feel like I put enough in one of these posts to publish and I take credit for coming up with these random rants. And honestly, it just helps. It helps with life and my thoughts and how I see things. I like reading them back because writing lets me put my feelings on paper/a screen and allows me to see myself.

So, yeah. Writing rocks.

Rant of the Day: Don't Be a User, Be Cooler (That doesn't even sort of rhyme...)

People who use other people are dumb.

Like, hey, let's be friends. Wait, no, actually just be my friend so I can have you in my life for support cause I need as much of that in my life as possible. WELL GUESS WHAT. BEING USED IS STUPID AND KIND OF HURTFUL.

I mean honestly, don't people ever stop to think, "Hey. This friend is being really supportive of me. I should thank them for their generosity and the time they've given up to help me out" or even, "Wow. This friend rocks all my socks. I should make sure I'm AS supportive to them as they are to me."

But then this all comes back to the idea that *You shouldn't expect things in return because that's the nice thing to do.* Well WHAT ABOUT MY FEELINGS. Shouldn't friendship be kind of an exception to that rule? Like I have plenty of people in my life that are totally and fully there for me, but should I just expect that from ALL my friends I have? Or is it okay to have those friends that you can tell anything to, they tell you everything, and your input matters more than the fact that they have absolutely no care in the world for you and how your life is going?

Because approaching someone like, "Hey, how are you?" sounds like genuine interest, right? And like they actually want to start a conversation with you about how you are doing. But then it turns into me reciprocating the question and then a follow-up of just THEIR LIFE. "These are my problems, this is what's happening with my life, this is how I'm feeling, this is how my family is treating me, this is how bored and lonely I am, blah, blah, blah..."

Well, GUESS WHAT. I have a life too, friend. I have problems, I have issues, I have boredom and loneliness streaks, but I don't need to seek out people to help me feel better about myself all the darn time. I'm not trying to be 100% on the offensive wagon here, but there's a time and place for things and I don't know how telling more people about your problems is actually going to solve them. Cause "You're the only one I've ever told" and "I trust you enough to keep this information" are just lies at the end of the day and I can't afford to be around people who treat me like that. Especially when they're asking *me* for advice on stuff.

Like I'm really sorry about your life, but you're giving me more worry to deal with and my advice is about as worthless as a popsicle in the wintertime. But honestly, why is it so easy for me to keep playing this game? Why do I expect something different in our friendship than just me telling you "It's okay" and "You'll get through it" and "You are better than that" all the time? When is it time for me to put my foot down and say, "Hey, yeah, I want something out of this friendship too. I don't do one-sided for long until I give you the boot. I don't work like that. I expect more from the people I care about"?

So pretending you're okay with one-sided friendships is so dang easy, but it's even easier to admit that you're better than something like that. There's a fine line between wanting to trust someone with your thoughts and feelings, and being a friend to that person that's listening to you.

So there. Lesson of the day: Be a good friend. Good friends rock. Good friends don't cause problems because they care on a different level. Peace out.

Pretending My Life Is Actually Exciting

"Geeze, Maddy, you haven't posted anything since March. What have you been doing all this time?"

I HAVE A PRETTY FREAKING BUSY LIFE, OKAY. IT'S HARD TO MAINTAIN A BLOG WHEN I HAVE HOMEWORK, WORK, SLEEP, EATING, AND PEOPLE TO WORRY ABOUT.

*end rant*

But actually though, college is always a busy time, don't let anyone ever tell you different. There's so much to do between this and that and all you end up doing is wanting to eat more. So essentially, the importance of food in college is insane because you actually have to FIND TIME to eat, and also hope you don't die of starvation when those facilities are not available to you (example: While cashiering at work, scanning other people's FOOD that I would so like to eat right that very second. But I'll restrain myself. Maybe.).

ANYWAYS. Life. Life is going well. I love school, I've always loved school. I'm taking two summer classes online because I apparently can't get enough of it. Except I apparently found out that I am in need of a job also this summer, so that will be super "exciting" to just have basically no lazy days. And the lazy days are the best cause you can just sit around, watch Netflix, make pizza rolls for lunch five days in a row, and then not even become tired at night cause you literally did nothing physically active. The best. But now I can't do that because I apparently have to have a FITNESS LOG for my health/wellness class online this summer. So that means I now have to juggle class, exercise, work, eating, sleeping, and Netflixing. UGH.

So that was my second rant there. Now I need something else to rant about, but I haven't in a while, which explains my neglect of blog postings. Actually, I'm just going to post random thoughts in my day because I can't think of anything to be rant-y about.

My friends think I'm creepy because I know basically the entire school schedule of this attractive guy for every day of the week. I got to prove it to them the other day and it was great, but now they know how obsessed I actually am. And that might not be a good thing in the future. To be known as a weirdo, that is. But I'll just keep pretending it's totally normal for me to know his entire schedule.

I would really not like to work a 6-hour shift tomorrow, but I happen to like money and being given money, so that's the only thing that's really motivating me to go. That's the only thing that really ever motivates me to go though, soooo...

It would be super nice if I could get all my finals done like tomorrow but that's apparently not acceptable, so I have to be here for a whole week more and not leave until Friday morning. But that just means I can watch more Netflix. Probably.

Okay this is the most boring blog post ever, but I don't really care because I have nothing really to talk about so I'm just giving up. But I still have time until my next class, so what could I possibly do in that time...

I wonder if these people around me would mind if I just took a nap on this chair.

An Influential Rant; Featuring: The "Old-Fashioned" Virgin (Yeah. That's right. SEX.)

This past weekend I watched the ever-hilarious game show The Newlywed Game where three couples face off in the battle of "How Much Do You Really Know About Your Spouse?" Not only is this one of my favorite shows, but I also find myself entertained by the relationships between each of the couples, and gushing at their every gesture towards one another. But, as I was watching it recently, there came across a woman and her husband who had waited until they were married to engage in sexual intercourse for the first time. Now I am fully aware of people's contradicting views of this, but needless to say, my friend and I squealed of gladness when they were introduced. The thing that struck me though was when the woman was specifically asked questions about the roleplaying and activity that went on in the bedroom. For every answer to that category of questions, she produced some sort of response around the words "I dunno, I'm just really old-fashioned that way!"

So apparently not having experience in the bedroom constitutes that you're "old-fashioned?" Has our society developed so far into the functions of sex that we can't even fathom the idea of waiting for the right person to do it with? Now I'm not saying that ALL people that have sex before marriage (or even instead of marriage) have sex with the wrong person or a total stranger or whatnot, but would it really kill you to wait until you're bonded in holy matrimony to engage in something so special as that? It makes me kind of sick to think of what adults, let alone teenagers, of this day in age think sex means, if anything. What happened to the value in waiting? What happened to "I love you so much that I'm willing to wait if you are"?

Call me "old-fashioned" (I'm already starting to hate that phrase), but I think there's some truth to that. Isn't that what we people want in this world? To be loved and cherished so much that someone would go out of their way to sacrifice that? Are we seriously all so sexually excited and impatient that we can't just "hold off" until we can share something so special like that with someone you think is so special? Honestly, I see more harm in getting it on before marriage than after. Regrets, doubts, hard feelings? Wouldn't you much rather experience the joy of it for the first time with someone you love unconditionally than to "try it out" or use it as a means supposedly necessary for a relationship?

There are people out there that have the same morals and values as me, and I know it as well as anyone does. I'm going to continue waiting because when you truly wait for something like that, it becomes that much better and more precious in the end. I mean, I'm no love expert, but I can confidently say that love is not sex. Or just sex, for that matter.

"But what about the people that already do it all the time because that's what a relationship is all about? Making compromises for one another, right?"
*annoying wrong-answer buzzer sound*

No. False. I don't care what you do. I don't care if you have sex tomorrow for the first time "just cause" or if you plan on waiting to find someone you love and have sex right before marriage, okay? I. Don't. Care. All I'm saying is that you shouldn't feel pressured into doing it just because society apparently thinks it's "the norm." You should also not feel pressured if the person (male OR female) has already had sex before. "What if I'm not experienced enough?" or "I feel like I'm letting him/her down by not doing it!" Do not, I repeat, do not feel obligated to fulfill that desire. If you don't own yourself and value what you have or haven't done, at least imagine or pretend to value yourself. It all comes back to faking it until you make it. Cause honestly, I've been doing that for 18 years. That many years of my life I've questioned, gotten scared, been questioned, and even considered changing.

But ta-daaa! Here I am. Venting about abstinence on a dumb blog because I have nothing better to do and because I have a say in what life I get to live. I have control of it and I'm perfectly fine. We people exist and we don't have to be afraid to exist. Not being experienced really isn't that big of a deal if you don't let it become one.

My values might be different or "more strict" than yours, but at least I have something to lean on, ya know? And what do you have? A vagina?

Water In My Eyes: The Tell-Tale Sign of Faking It Until You Make It

Now this title most literally pertains to my unfortunate battle with the wind everyday, since apparently my lovely college campus needs to have this lovely river nearby that finds joy in making people feel pain. My dry eyes are no match for the blustering push of the wind, yet I manage to march on with tears streaking my wind-whipped cheeks.

"Are you okay??"
"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. It's just the wind."
"Oh my gosh, are you alright?"
"Yes, stop asking me what question. The wind is blinding me."

But this isn't just talking about wind, is it? That's not the only thing that makes tears stream down my face, that's for sure. Now, as I usually warn you, don't start a pity party right now. "Aw, poor Maddy! She's gonna tell us some super emotional story about herself and we're gonna feel sorry for her and comfort her little sad, teary-eyed face." No. Just...just stop. The reason I'm bringing this up is because I don't  even cry that often anyways. That's the thing.

All through high school I'd let my stress go by crying. You could say this is a typical hormonal period of time in a young adult's life, but for me, I thought it was gonna be like that forever. The beginning of the school year was always the hardest for me. Readjusting to the juggle of homework, tennis, and family time was an overwhelming thing to unravel. I never found myself at a super dark place, but I often dipped low.

Because of my experience with anxiousness in social settings and other predicaments, I tended to release my frustration and sadness in crying. It was all I could do to get it flushed out of my system. Tennis really did help me let loose more of the frustration part, but the emotional piece continued to stick on. Build up more, even. And I hated that. I hated having to release my anxiety in two different ways and typically in two different places and at two different times of the day. I needed an escape.

Now that I've entrusted myself into the college world, I can't find a way to get it out. Somehow, over the journey to get here, I lost my tears. I lost my reasons to cry and my reasons to let out my frustrations. It's as if someone stuck a plug in my side and now I am only allowed to let out the emotions in a steady stream. I've used the analogy of a dam for my anxious mind recently and I keep coming right back to it. It really makes sense right now. I've spend so long dealing with the dam just suddenly breaking down and ruining everything, when I could just find a way to get out a nice trickle. Just a nice, steady trickle of water. A small stream, perhaps.

This dam of mine breaks at times when I feel the most alone, the most lost. All the other times, people are putting up the bricks piece by piece trying to revive me and give me reasons to trudge on. But really, how long will people keep picking up my bricks? How long until I can hold that dam up for longer than just a few weeks? When can I feel that steady stream? When, if ever, will it get easier?

I've always seen my dam issue as almost a burden, per se. Not such a huge burden that it's preventing me from trying new and dangerous things or being true to myself, but when I'm around people I care about. I've never wanted to be in people's way, I've never wanted to worry anyone. I just wanted to deal with things internally and by myself so that everyone would think I was okay. But guess what? That's what I've been doing and instead of it helping me, it's been eating me alive.

Yes, I fake it 'til I make it and I lie to convince myself that things were once worse than what I'm experiencing now. But the truth of the matter is that I'm both not fine and incredibly wonderful at the same time. I have a confidence, but I have a downfall. I have a stupendous reputation, but a bad sense of motivation. I have intelligence, but not enough to get me farther than where I'm at.

I think patience is such a big part of this life I live. If I weren't so patient for things to happen, I'd literally be a wreck right now. I would be a dirty, hopeless, ridiculous mess. But guess what? This is where I am, this is what I've seen, this is how my dam is built, this is how I want it to be, and this is me looking at the future with hope. Because that's what's got me here. Just hope. Just hope, confidence, and the ability to fake what I have until I've got it.

And right now, all I want is to make it. With or without the tears.

Being Hung Up On a Guy: Hurting You or Helping You?

"Don't get hung over by some guy."

What does this even mean? How do you define this sentence? What does it translate to?

"Don't waste your time."
"He isn't even worth it."
"Get over him, he doesn't even know you exist."
"Stop obsessing over the 'what if's'."

But if we cut it apart, we have the phrases "hung over" and "some guy" left. So essentially, being "hung over" by a guy is considered being wasteful of the amount of time you're spending obsessing. Am I right? Because being "hung over" sounds more like a dreary state of being, probably much like the binging of alcohol transferring into the following day. But have you ever considered being "hung over" by a guy as a good thing? In all honesty, I don't have a truthful answer for this because my experience with guys is so miniscule that it basically doesn't give me a right to say any of this (But I will be saying it anyways SO THERE).

So here's what I think: I think that being hung over by a guy isn't a bad thing. Because spending time oogling over "some guy" can be considered worth it. Granted, I'm the queen of NOT pursuing interest and NOT making any possible hint towards my likeness toward a guy because I'm an over-analyzer with everything. I'm the worrier, the second-guesser, and the doubter. And probably a little afraid of rejection too.

Now I know you're probably thinking, 'Okay, what is this chick's point? She has practically no experience with guys, and she's trying to give us some sort of wisdom about something probably stupid and worthless.' Well, listen up here, losers. I may be inexperienced, too quiet, too shy, too much of a thinker, and too lame to show interest in a guy, but I have a confidence bubble. And around my confidence bubble is another large bubble of patience. That's right, I have confidence AND patience. And I embrace it. Because without both, I think I would be a complete mess.

So again, what the crap is my point? The point is, I'm waiting. I'm waiting to be "hung over" by some guy because I can't possibly imagine myself without them. In this situation, I guess "hung over" could be defined as "head-over-heels" or even "can't get over this feeling right now-ness." Sure I haven't found someone yet, but I know what I want and I'm striving to find it. Because there is no such thing as being hung over by some guy, when that certain guy is the right guy.

BUT...(there is a but)... I am indeed "hung over" by a guy. I don't know if he's the right guy, but the checklist has been filled. Yes, I have a checklist. It isn't all written down and word-processed or even carved into stone, but I have one. And it's keeping me going. Sure my high standards prevent me from being more open to other options, but it's extremely hard to shake them. I mean honestly, what is wrong with not settling for anything less? That's where my confidence and patience bubbles come in. I have enough confidence in my faith, my life, and myself to know that I can be patient long enough to find somebody. I. Just. Have. To. Wait.

I'm guessing you're still stuck on the part where I briefly mentioned a "he" of some sort. Yes, there's someone roaming around my college right now that I can't get out of my head. I'm stubborn and stingy and constantly frustrated with myself because I'm not doing anything about it. I know that I exist to him and he's proven that before, I just don't know how to shift myself over into the spotlight more. I've only been in one relationship before and I did virtually nothing of the sorts to start it, because I wasn't expecting him to like me. I never expect any guys to like me for that matter anyways, since I'm constantly an awkward piece of human interaction.

Seriously though, I'm not writing this for your pity and your sad puppy eyes for the "Awww, guys like you, Maddy, I'm sure they do." ...Yeah. You can stop now. I'm not here on this planet to celebrate a pity party for my problems. (I hate complainers anyways, which is why I try to clear the air in these blog posts.)

So really, why haven't I had much experience with guys? Why haven't I "tried the ropes out" or bopped around options? Well... Because. I don't like wasting people's time and I don't like feeling idiotic. With the cheesey-ness factor in mind, I want to be friends with a guy first. I want to be so annoyingly comfortable around him that we literally can't see normalcy. And my life has not consisted of a ton of opportunity to have any guy friends anyways, so that's were I'm left at.

So. *Absorbs all the previous information again.* Guys. Guys are insane. As my best friend and I often conclude our conversations about boys, "UGH. Boys are stupid. That's it. I'm seriously gonna just get cats. I don't need a guy. I need cats." (This is entirely true, we say this all the freaking time. Because boys are a frustrating subject.) But the best part about all this is that I can be so "hung over" by some guy that it hurts and still maintain some sense. Some sense in my value, in my character, and especially in my faith.

Because honestly, without those three things, I would be nothing. Notice: None of those things are a guy. And this doesn't mean I don't need a guy (cause if there's anything you learn from this post, it's that I want one...), it just means that a guy might add to who I am and who I think I want to be. What's wrong with having someone along with you on your ride through life? I mean, I'm confused with the future as it is, but having someone with me would make it so, so much better. Easier, even.

But let's be real here... I would love to have a life companion. A male life companion. Someone who I don't feel like an idiot around and someone who I can be myself with and share my life with. I just want to be "hung over" by someone who is so "head-over-heels" with me that it hurts. But in a good way.

Life Is A Body of Water, Maybe a River?

One of the weirdest parts about growing up is that you sometimes feel like you're floating in a giant pool called life. As if your past seems like it drifted off toward the shallow end and you're somewhere in the middle of the pool, dreading the overwhelming deep end. Everyone's on the outside, out of the water shouting contradicting commands.

"Keep swimming! You can do it!"
"Wallow in the middle for a while longer, you're not ready yet!"
"Just jump right into it and deal with the consequences later!"
"Honestly, Maddy, do whatever feels right!"
"You'll be fine, stop being such a wuss!"

Do you take one route, or the other? Do you drift into the deep end for a while and get your feet wet, but not too far or you might fall flat on your face? Do you back-track before you start doggy-paddling? There are just too many routes and too many people influencing when or how you should approach life.

One of my favorite (and by favorite, I mean LEAST favorite) phrases is "Just follow your heart." ...I mean honestly, when you read that do you automatically know 'Oh, yeah, totally. I know what my heart's saying cause it can talk. It's like my conscience, it always knows what's up and I can totally figure out what to do in any situation imaginable.' Um. NO. What the heck does that even mean?! YOUR HEART CAN'T SPEAK NOR CAN IT SHOW YOU PATHS TO FOLLOW. SO WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE FOLLOWING.

Oh, but don't forget: "Follow what your heart is telling you, not your head." ... Perfect! That just makes so much sense! Yeah, just ignore arguably your most valuable piece of awesomeness and interpret the answer from the thump-thumping of your heart. Whew! What a relief! Genius!

I may be acting too literal in this situation, but I have a seriously confusing outlook on this idea. Somehow people in movies and storybooks can do it, but we can't, can we? Have we all just made up this crazy belief that our hearts have the real answers in them? Well, maybe. But if that's what works for ya, you go for it. Swim away in that pool past all the ridicules of how you should live.

In actuality, I've never been much of a swimmer. I took one swimming class at a beach when I was younger and mostly hated it. I also have a sort-of-fear of drowning. Even though the chance of that actually happening is quite slim, I still find myself avoiding deep water by all costs. But, back to my metaphorical terms, me not being a swimmer makes me a wallower. I wallow in the middle all the time, casually drifting back to my pastimes while casually drifting into the scary deep end (aka my future). I try to jump into society a little for my upcoming life journeys, but it always ends up being more of a hop.

Switching topics again (sorry for the overwhelming skipping around, my mind just bops around subjects in my head), I want to just briefly bring up my anxious mind. Point blank, I'm a worrier and anxiety has been a personal struggle of mine. I've dealt with it for so long that I finally decided to get serious help for it. And no, I don't mean therapy, because I've done enough of that to write a book about it. I got legitimate medical help and am seeing life in a different light. If the light of life was blue before, it's basically purple now (cause everyone knows purple is better). Fortunately, I have been able to push aside enormous loads that I've never been able to push away before. There's practically a bridge divided in my brain that allows my anxious thoughts to shove to the back.

I can honestly say that my bravery set sail and I am now much more willing to jump toward the deep end, rather than hop. The thump-thumping of my heartbeat might not be followable (that's not a word, but it should be), but I do find it to be a lot more trustworthy. Even matured, in a sense. Because guess what? Your physical heart might not be hard to follow (since it's always where you are), but your soul is. And your soul is what connects to your heart because your heart is what connects to the world which connects to the love of it.

So instead of following that blood-pumping organ, take a jump. A leap, even. You just might figure out what your soul is like, what you believe in. Because you aren't just your soul, your soul is you.

The Vent Sesh; Featuring: When Two Shoes Are Better Than None

Yeah, yeah. Patience, patience. Life is just one big waiting game, and you don't get to peek through the looking-glass to preview what the future holds. There are no time machines or fast forward buttons, as much as people can hope.
"If you had the ability to view one moment in your future, would you want to look?"
"If there were a movie trailer featuring the rest of your life, would you watch it?"

Many people want to say, 'Yes... well, but no.' Because believe me, I'd love to see if my life turns out great and whether I'm happy. But isn't part of the joy of life that you get to be surprised? I've never been the one to adore surprises, but I was the good sibling that didn't peek at her Christmas gifts. Or shake them for that matter (not that that really ever gave me a clue what I was getting). "Goody Two-Shoes" is the name, being a respectable kid is the game. And that name doesn't just associate me with my holiday hopes and dreams, but basically my whole life.

Now I'm not trying to be snobbish or come off like I know everything, or even like I'm at such a high position in this world, but I do have a point to this. As suspected, I gained the "Catholic School Girl" characteristics so fast that I was practically belting out "Go Tell It On The Mountain" to my public high school student environment. It took me forever just to find where I fit into the annoyingly expensive purse-carriers, walking B.O. robots, genius Asian break-dancers, and gossiping know-it-all-ers. I mean, lets be real here. I don't fit into any of those groups even now.

But lo and behold, the heavens opened and I was able to cluster with a much more sensible crowd of people. Minimal swearing, minimal drinking, minimal party-goers, minimal losers. And to be perfectly blunt, they were the best damn group of friends in school. Little to no drama is the key to friendship. That and laughter paired with ice cream. Cause ice cream always wins.

Aaaanyways. Goody Two-Shoes. I never fully understood the meaning of that nickname until college. Now that I've started college, I can't say I've been called that yet, but I now actually feel like one. Before, in high school life, I could wear the Goody Two-Shoes badge proudly and strut around like I had a shield to block the haters (admittedly though, freshman year I was more ashamed than proud at the time). Being a COLLEGE freshman now means life decisions and life goals and life hitting you in the face more than previously. Being a Goody Two-Shoes isn't so easy now with the amount of pressures I face.

As a former member of Students Together Are Responsible (STAR) in high school, I took the pledge to stay away from drugs and alcohol and anything related that could potentially ruin my career as a student. And at that time, it was a piece of cake. I was only awkwardly offered a cigarette on my way through the druggie lot, fast-walking to the library. But that doesn't really count. I always felt like it would count more if people close to me where the ones pressuring me. And obviously, as mentioned before, my group of friends was no where near that sort of stuff. Taught in the STAR seminars, I had to preach to fourth-graders about the disgusting effects and how to be firm with saying "NO" when negative pressuring happened.

Alas, college is a new land of possibilities and options. And don't worry, I know what you're thinking. 'Oh my gosh. She totally does drugs now and she let the pressures get to her and she didn't listen to her own advice and now she's an alcoholic and can't tear herself away from the partying lifestyle and now she's like dead to the world.' No. No, no, no, and no. That is not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that college puts on more pressure and not just grades and career-wise.

Honestly, it practically sickens me how much smoking, drinking, partying, and having sex happens so close to me, since high school was only filled with stories about it. I never actually saw it. But now I'm in it firsthand. I can see how careless and immature young adults can be, and I still don't like it. I've been pressured to drink now, I've been pressured to party, and I've been pressured to do things I never want to do. Is this seriously what all college students are like? Are they all doing this to "live life to the fullest" and "have fun in college" because that's really what it's all about?

Cause then screw it. I actually came here for a future. I can be in control. I don't know that drinking until I can't remember things happening sounds like a fun way to live life. I want to actually be awake for it and know I have a promising place ahead of me. So call me what you want. A Party-Pooper, a Shallow Sally, a Debbie Downer, a Deprived Child, a Goody Two-Shoes. It's my future, idiots. I can wait as long as I want, I can paint a picture of my future all I want, and I can make decisions that change my life all I want. But what I can't do is let the stupidity of society allow me to be something I really don't want to be.

I know patience is worth it. Know how I know that? Because I'm right here. I'm right where I'm supposed to be. I was patient and college came. I was patient and I got a job. I was patient and I found confidence. I was patient and time stood just where it needed to be. And lucky for me, being a Goody Two-Shoes is how I like to be. Goody, sober, confident gal with two shoes. (Which is obviously better than one. Or none.)

So suck it. I like my shoes.