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Posts tagged ‘decision’

Quarter of a Century

Well, in less than a month, I turn twenty-five. I didn’t think it would stress me out this much, but it is. Even though I’m on my medication, I feel really down lately, and I just want November eighth to pass.

You’d think I’d be excited for my birthday, but I’m not. Well, in all honesty, my birthdays stopped being fun after I turned eighteen. But this… I didn’t think I’d make it this far. No, I didn’t want to make it this far. Just because my medication helps keep my brain in check, doesn’t mean I’m not still suicidal. The difference is, I’m not going to go kill myself in a fit of depression. I’m stable, so I can think clearly and make rational decisions.

Still, I don’t want to be twenty-five, I don’t want to be another year older, and I don’t want to be reminded that I’ve spent a quarter of a century in this stupid world. And then there’s the getting older part. I’ve already lost my cuteness that I had as a teenager, but as I get closer to thirty, the wrinkles will start showing up. That means the bags under my eyes are going to be even more alarming. And all that aging cream and wrinkle reducing cream and all that? Expensive face moisturizers. That expensive stuff that claims to reduce signs of aging is the same thing as your everyday moisturizer. Moisture helps reduce the appearance of wrinkles, but as you get older, it can only do so much. So the fact of the matter is, I’M GOING TO GET EVEN UGLIER THAN I ALREADY AM. I’ll probably get fatter, too, even though I’ve been losing weight. NOT ENOUGH.

I’m not worried about grey hair. I’m blonde, have TTM, and like to wear wigs. Big whoop. No, I’m going to get uglier, and I have to spend more time with people around me. I HATE PEOPLE. The only two people I even care about is Michael and Sempai. Sempai was so excited about turning twenty-five, and I honestly couldn’t see why… then again, she actually likes people. She doesn’t have the same thought process I do.

Mike and I are going to Missouri on November ninth, the day after my birthday. I’m hoping the change in scenery will make me feel a little better, plus there are less people in one area, unlike here where all the houses are so close together, we can all hear each other. Can’t even go out at night without passing someone, and each time we do, it freaks me out. While in Missouri, we’re going to check the price of houses. If things look good over there, then in one to two years, we’ll move across the country. Being in a house and not being so surrounded will do me some good. Some people are afraid of change, but god, I need it so badly.

Why do we even celebrate the day we were born?

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All [BLANK] People Look the Same

“All black people look the same.” “All Asian people look the same.” “All Mexican people look the same.” Blah blah blah. MAN, does that get annoying…

I’m white. I’m white, and racism confuses me. I find it silly when someone claims that someone does something, or is a certain way just because of their skin color. It also bothers me when people say, “you can’t be racist toward white people.” It’s like saying, “men can’t be raped.” What is this “hate crime” bullshit we have? A white man can’t hit a black man, even if the black man hit him first. “Why did you hit him? Because he was black?” “No, it was self defense. I would’ve done the same thing it he were white.” No excuse, it’s a hate crime. However, if a black man hits a white man, even if he hit him because he’s white, it’s simply an assault crime. Makes. No. Sense. Shouldn’t either scenario just be the same crime?

A person cannot be judged for being born a certain way. Do you think we choose our skin color before birth? Do we choose if our brains are healthy? Do we choose if we don’t have deformities? Do we choose what sex we’re attracted to? No, we do not. So why do people discriminate against things we can’t control? If we are to hate another person, it should not be based on their race or sexuality, it should be based on the things they can control, like their personality. Hate someone for being an insensitive asshole, hate someone for being abusive, hate someone for being homophobic, but don’t hate them because of their fucking SKIN. What if you cut someone who is black? What color is their blood? Red. White people have red blood, Asians have red blood, everyone has red blood. Find someone who bleeds blue, and then start asking questions.

I was thinking the other day about when people say, “all [BLANK] people look the same.” I watch a lot of movies, most of them horror, and a good chunk of them are Asian horror. For some reason, I don’t enjoy foreign movies that are in languages other than English or an Asian language. Anyway, the point is, I’ve seen movies where there are more than just white people. IMAGINE THAT. I’ve realized that you can place the word “white” in that [BLANK].

I have short term memory loss, so I can forget new information very quickly. This includes faces, believe it or not. Unless the person has a unique and defining characteristic, I can’t tell one person from the next unless I’ve spent enough time with them to memorize their face. With movies, you only get a short time to become familiar with an assortment of characters, so most of the time, I actually can’t keep track of who is who unless there is something about them that’s different than everyone else. If there’s one black guy in the whole movie, obviously I’m going to recognize him, but say there are two white guys who are around the same age and have blonde hair. Could I tell you who is who? Not unless I watch the movie a few times.

The ironic thing is, when I’m watching an Asian horror movie, I recognize individual faces much quicker. Why is this? Don’t all Asians look the same? How can I tell two Asians apart verses two white people apart? How the hell is that possible? Not sure. Maybe it’s because I don’t see someone as their race, but as another human. But that wouldn’t explain why I have issues discerning white people. I can’t offer a logical explanation to this conflict, but it’s this factor that made me really think about the phrase, “all [BLANK] look the same.” Well, you know what? All white people look the same too.

When looking at it biologically, there are many genes that contribute to human appearance, but because genes are passed down, we share a lot of physical characteristics. If your mom and dad are both blonde, you’re going to be blonde. If both parents are Japanese, you’re going to be Japanese. That’s just a fact. It’s possible to find multiple people that look so similar, you can’t tell them apart unless you’ve had time to become accustomed to their differences. Why do you think we have that moment where we say, “have we met before?” or, “sorry, I thought you looked like someone I knew.” Of course, by the laws of observation, we take in what makes a person unique; their hair color, eye color, and yes, skin color. Concluding that someone is black is not a racist thing to do, because we do the same thing with every other skin color out there, including white. To say that you don’t make a mental note that a person is white is absolute bull.

When I was watching the Saw movies, I had this familiar problem where I didn’t recognize a couple of the white characters. I don’t remember which one it was, I think it was the third one, and toward the end, it showed a face of a character we had supposedly met earlier in the movie, you know, one of those, “here’s the twist! It was this guy!” sort of deals. Whereas most would go, “OH SNAP! It was that guy!” I was sitting here going, “wait, who is that? The music gives you the feeling that this is significant…” The same thing happened with the two victims, I had no idea that they had appeared in the earlier movies until repeated flashbacks showed how certain past plot points connected the stories together. It doesn’t help that I can’t remember names either. In the later movies, I was able to recognize the guy who survived, but that was because his screen time was increased.

I’m not saying I never have a problem telling one person from the other in Asian movies, but I’ve noticed that it happens a lot less. It tends to happen more in movies that show a bunch of students in school because they all have the same uniform, unless of course they wear their hair a certain way. But in movies where the cast is composed mostly of white people, I do experience the “who is that?” thought a lot unless the character has a defining feature that’s unlike the others; unique hair or eye color, different body shape, fashion style, voice, or sometimes eye shape. Take Elijah Wood, for instance. He has very big eyes, and that’s his defining feature. I’m going to be able to recognize him among all the other white characters. Or actors that I am more familiar with because I’ve seen a lot of their movies, like Jim Carry. He’s going to stick out because I’ve had time to memorize his face.

The point is, “all [BLANK] people look the same” is absolute crap because of the obvious fact that all PEOPLE look the same, even if we don’t look the same. It all comes down to the fact that people need to just stop being racist. Haven’t we moved passed this? No, and why? It’s the same with homosexuality. It seems like society is progressing, so why aren’t we passed this? Why do people feel the need to hate people for what they can’t control? How can people possibly say things like, “black people rob banks,” “Asians eat cats,” “Mexicans are lazy,” et cetera? Yeah, there have been cases where a black person robbed a bank, but so have white people. Do you think there isn’t some sick white guy out there who likes to eat cats? And what about laziness? I’m fucking lazy as hell! I’ve met tons of lazy ass white people! Humans have different personalities and make different choices that do not depend solely on their skin color, but depend on their environment in which they grew up.

Even if everything I say is true, will that change anything? No. Because the idiots of the world are going to raise their kids with the same beliefs, and we’ll be lucky if that kid eventually learns that their parents were the idiots that they were. I hate as strongly as I love, but I hate people for their character, not their skin color. For me, that’s just the obvious, and racism, sexism, homophobia, et cetera does not make sense to me. It’s abnormal.

And of course, everything I just said was racist because I’m white.

Sweet, Sweet Salvation from Myself

This is sort of a different blog post than the stuff I have posted more recently. I honestly don’t write enough on WordPress just because I never really think about it. I mean, I don’t have nearly as many followers on here as I do on Deviant Art and YouTube, but my right mind suddenly says to me, “wait a minute, that’s not why you write here. Your mindset of ‘nobody is reading this’ just sounds like another blogger trying to gain popularity for no reason.” My right mind is… RIGHT… as usual, and my unstable mind is always wrong.

Youtube and DA are different because they are ways to express doing what I love, and the mild popularity I have obtained over time was accidental. Now making videos on YouTube is my job, I get paid every month for it, it pays my bills, buys me food, buys food and bedding for my beloved rats. Sure, I don’t make enough to buy things for enjoyment, or help my boyfriend and I buy a house instead of living in this shitty apartment that’s too expensive for what it is, but it’s only a matter of time before I get there. We need to make money in this world to live, and it SUCKS because everything is so damn expensive!

The point is, I write these blogs because I just need to get it out. Even if only a couple of people read it, it doesn’t matter, because the point of most of these senseless banters is a form of therapy. I have a bad habit of bottling things up because it’s become a fad to accuse people of “wanting attention” for expressing the way they feel, and the reason for this is because there are some little shits out there who think it’s okay to pretend to be feeling something they’re not just to get people to pay attention to them. What people don’t understand is that there is a difference between “crying out for attention” and “needing to vent.” For anyone that has a problem expressing their feelings and bottling it all up, you know it builds and builds until you eventually burst into a fit of anger or a traumatizing panic attack. It’s unhealthy, especially for people who already suffer from psychological disorders. I honestly feel that sometimes people accuse others of wanting attention because they want attention. When it comes down to it, they are not my problem. I am my problem. I always have been.

If you keep up with my activity, you’ll know that I suffer from a mental disorder known as Manic Depression, AKA Bipolar Disorder. I was diagnosed when I was a preteen, but I displayed signs of it much earlier according to family members who actually gave a crap but could do nothing about it because the woman who birthed me was an insane whore that didn’t give a shit about her children. I could’ve gotten help a lot sooner if she had just stopped fucking strange men who beat her and paid attention to her daughter. I was put on medication that made things worse, so I was afraid to take medication until I was twenty. Unfortunately, Manic Depression gets worse as you get older, so when things got really bad into my adulthood, I decided it was time to help myself.

It was a very good decision. I told the psychiatrist about my bad experiences with medication, and he put me on some meds that made me feel normal. It was the best I had felt in my entire life. Finally, I didn’t want to die, finally, I’d stop hurting myself, and finally, I stopped sobbing for hours for no apparent reason. Of course, this meant that I’d have to be on medication for the rest of my life, and doses would have to be adjusted accordingly.

A few years later, my most recent doctor decided to put me on Paxil, which is an SSRI. The two medications I had had bad experiences with were also SSRIs, so I’m sure you can tell where this is going. It seemed like the Paxil was doing a good job at keeping me stable, but the price I paid was uncontrollable shaking, twitching, and increased anxiety. It didn’t help that I accidentally took double the dose my first time because of a misunderstanding, and I was vomiting for a few days. However, the shaking and twitching never stopped. People noticed it; even on my videos it was noticeable. It worried my friends, my boyfriend, my coworkers at the time… and then I quit my job. The reason for this was because for the three years I had been working there, one of the assistant managers was harassing me to the point where the company actually required me to attend therapy, which did not help. Therapy has never helped me. So finally, I couldn’t take it. I quit my job and went home.

My boyfriend was supposed to be in Vegas with his family the day I quit. If he had gone, I’d be dead. The trip was cancelled at the last minute, so he was home to stop me from trying to kill myself. After that, I started to develop very aggressive Agoraphobia, which is fear of leaving the house. It doesn’t help that I am also a Sociophobe, and that escalated as well. I am currently in the recovery process, but I didn’t leave the house for two years, and I gained a lot of weight. Because of my Agoraphobia, I could not go to the doctor, so my medication ran out, and I suffered very extreme withdrawal symptoms from quitting Paxil cold turkey. I couldn’t leave my bed for a few months because I was dizzy, I was always throwing up, and yet I could not eat, so nothing but bile came out. Water and bread were all that I could stomach, and I slept sixteen hours a day, which made me feel even more lethargic.

Finally, the symptoms subsided, and eventually, I stopped shaking and twitching. I was off my medication for six months, so in that period, I was depressed most of the time with very few manic episodes, I got angry at the smallest things, I cried constantly for hours on end, and every single fucking day, I just wanted to kill myself. I also could not sleep because I have insomnia that requires medication as well. My fear of death disappeared, my pain tolerance increased (which made cutting myself so easy, it was like nothing more than a stubbed toe), and my extreme fear of needles that I’ve had all my life was GONE. That last one surprised me very much; I have always been terrified of needles, so much that a simple IV would send me into a panic attack. But no, all of that was gone. Why? Absolutely no idea.

Again, for those who follow me, you’ll know about Annatier. She is a character I created many years ago to help better understand and cope with my disorder. Note that hallucinations are NOT part of my disorder, so no, I do not see her, and no, I do not hear her. She is simply a metaphor, but she as a person does not exist. However, when unstable, my thoughts start to get out of control. They don’t become an outside voice, I simply cannot control them. They will tell me things like, “you’re worthless,” “no one loves you,” “mommy didn’t love you,” “you should kill yourself,” et cetera. Suppressed memories are dug up, all positive thoughts are drowned out, and the bad thoughts overlap each other. They don’t need to be a voice to be loud.

I had to try and keep myself busy to shut “Annatier” up. The problem is, Manic Depression is notorious for making people unmotivated and uninterested in every day activities and beloved hobbies. So I was left alone with my thoughts, and it drove me mad. I even began feeling homicidal, feeling like I should simply throw away my life, go stab some people, and get tossed in jail. Hell, the only reason I didn’t kill myself was because I promised to my boyfriend and best friend that I wouldn’t, and my code of honor prevents me from breaking promises. I wanted to go to a mental hospital because I felt I should be locked up. Fuck! I thought about killing people! Actually fucking killing random people who didn’t deserve it! Yeah, I love me some horror and gore, and I write plenty of it, but it is meant to be fictional, I am not a murderer. So not only was I a danger to myself, but possibly others. Luckily, I was able to keep these sick fantasies exactly what they were: fantasies. But still, why couldn’t I go to a mental hospital? Well, my boyfriend kept saying I didn’t need to. I just needed my medication back.

Finally, after two years, I decided I didn’t want to be afraid to leave the house. So I started taking small steps and going places, but never alone. I am still working on it, but I am much better than I was. Unfortunately, a recent car crash has regressed me a little, but that’s just another obstacle, right? At long last, I was able to see my doctor, and I told him what the Paxil did to me. He came to the conclusion that my body did not react well to SSRIs, so instead he put me on an SSNI called Effixor (I don’t actually know if that’s how it’s spelled), along with my sleeping medication and my antipsychotic. I had also been on Welbutren (sp?) before, but he didn’t want to give me too much too fast.

After the first week, I started to notice differences in how I felt. The best part was, I had zero side effects. I began to feel sane, my thoughts were more controllable, my disturbing urge to murder innocent people just to be locked up was gone, and for once in what seemed like decades, I didn’t want to kill myself. It was the best fucking feeling ever, and I remembered what it was like to feel sane. Mean comments on YouTube and DA no longer struck me with irrational anger because I was thinking logically, and was able to tell myself that the people who took the time to insult me were idiots that didn’t deserve my time or energy. Little things that usually depressed the hell out of me no longer had such an effect, AND NO MORE PANIC ATTACKS! And the frosting on the cake? SLEEP. GLORIOUS, UNITERRUPTED SLEEP. My best friend has noted that the shadows under my eyes are considerably less noticeable!

For six weeks, I progressively felt mentally healthier than I had been before, but I noticed something odd. Instead of feeling decently happy like I did when I was on my previous medications, I felt… numb. Yeah, I could laugh, smile, and brief periods of joy were not uncommon, but when it came down to it, I felt so neutral, so apathetic, I wasn’t sure if I should be worried or not. Things did not affect me, and not just because of mental stability, but just every day things had no negative or positive effect on me. Of course, I was also not depressed, so I said to my boyfriend, “I’d rather feel numb and apathetic than depressed and suicidal any day.” It’s been like this since I’ve been on the Effixor (sp?), and I think I know why.

The chemical imbalance in my brain causes me to feel angry, depressed, or sometimes the exact opposite side of the emotional spectrum at extreme levels, though my manic episodes used to last way longer when I was a teenager. What it feels like right now is that my brain is trying to fight the medication, trying to tell me to be depressed, but the medication is putting up a very good fight. As a result, I’m stuck smack-dab right in the middle, causing me to feel next to nothing on a regular basis. I have also seen only a small increase of productivity in me, but I still end up losing motivation. However, instead of “what’s the point,” it’s simply a loss in interest. Because of this, I’ve seen almost every horror movie available on Netflix. T_T Some were pretty good, like American Mary, but some SUCKED HARDER THAN SUCKING ITSELF. I considered The ABCs of Death to be a waste of my time, and refuse to watch the sequel. I’ve also watched quite a few “found footage” movies I wasn’t too fond of, though the V/H/S series wasn’t too bad.

Two weeks ago, I saw my doctor again, and told him how I’ve been feeling. He mentioned that I looked a lot better, and was happy to hear I was also feeling better. In the end, he put me back on Welbutren (sp?), and so far I’ve seen minimal improvement, but these things take time. The car crash sort of didn’t help things, so I’ve just got to be patient. But anyone who knows me knows I am very impatient…

Overall, compared to how I was feeling, I feel fan-fucking-tastic. Like I said, I’d rather be apathetic than suicidal any day! The upside is that negative comments over the internet do not affect me in any way, except to shake my head, block the loser, and delete the comment. Of course, it does annoy me that idiots and scum exist out there, but at least I don’t feel like I want to strangle someone after reading, “o my gawd u suk nd r ugly.” I am able to rationalize the reasons the person left the comment and decide it’s literally nothing. Once it’s deleted and the person is blocked, they don’t exist to me anymore. Besides, all they want is attention, right? Well, I get sick satisfaction out of denying them that attention, because nothing gets to a bully more than their victim not reacting to their torment. It’s actually quite hilarious.

Hopefully I will be seeing more improvement over the next few weeks in my ability to feel, as well as my lack of interest in things. My rats help a lot, because at least cute little animals still have the ability to make me happy. I don’t think that’ll ever change, even if I have bouts of unreasonable homicidal thoughts. I’d never hurt an animal, so at least there’s that much. Nevertheless, I don’t want to kill myself, I don’t feel I need to hurt myself or anyone else, and I’m sleeping. I feel healthy, sane, and less of a worthless screw up. When it comes down to it, all I needed was my medication back. Sometimes that’s all it takes to help someone who is mentally ill. We’ve come a long way in medicine, and I’m glad for it. Now keeping my promise is much easier, and Annatier has finally shut up.

Sweet salvation indeed.

Making Decisions Mad Easy

Ever find yourself having a hard time making simple decisions? You’re just torn between two things you very much want, and you’re just not sure which to go with. I usually don’t have problems making important decisions, but there ARE some things I need a little guidance on. Here’s my method.

Believe it or not, this is a very simple way to make simple choices. Flip a coin! It may sound silly, but it’s helped me a lot ever since I started it. Now, you can only use this method with some decisions. You don’t wanna be like, “should I fail this class or not?” or “should I kill that person? Let’s flip on it.” You’re probably safer using common sense on stuff like that, and hopefully you DO have common sense if you’re thinking about things like that.

I’m talking about things like, “should I play Angry Birds or Bookworm?” or “should I work on my comic or write a song in Furbish?” Things like that. Honestly, since I have so much to do, sometimes I need help deciding which to get done first. I let destiny decide and flip a coin. In the end, I don’t regret the choice I’ve made with the coin.

There’s only two big decisions I’ve made with a coin; whether or not to buy a kitten without Mike’s permission, and contact Sempai and try to make up with her. The answers were kitten: no, Sempai: yes. Both ended up being a good thing. Perhaps, even though I want a kitten, I’m not ready for one, or my apartment isn’t anyway. Maybe I need my life to calm down a bit.

But the most important one was making up with Sempai. I know I wrote earlier blogs about her making it seem like it was all her fault, but I was trying to convince myself that it wasn’t MY fault. And a year went by with my heart growing weaker and weaker, and finally I broke and admitted my faults in the whole situation. We were both at fault, but I could’ve handled the situation so much better. And I told her all this, and we exchanged our thoughts and feelings about what happened, and we made up. Now, at least for me, it feels like none of it ever happened. Our friendship survived the BIGGEST fight I’ve ever had with anyone. This is proof that we’re gonna be best friends forever. I’m so glad that I pushed hard and managed to convince her to talk to me. And I’m sure now she’s confident neither of us will let that happen again.

All in all, mainly focus on smaller decisions, ones where the consequences will pretty much be the same. It was a risk making those two choices, but I was confident they were right. So try it sometime. Flip a coin! See what happens!