Fast-forward five years:
Hi, it's me, college sophomore. Wrapped up in life I forgot about this blog I started as a freshman in high school. My life is so different now but in so many ways the same. I had hoped that somewhere down the road my life would change. In some ways it did; I moved across the country to go to a huge University in the South, grew out of my shell, became more confident in myself, and started to grow into a person who I thought I'd always wanted to become. While all of these are great, I somehow imagined my life to be a bit different. Here is a little check list on how my life panned out.
Be admitted into my dream school? Check. Pick up hobbies that I swore I would never involve myself in? Check. Escape my family that made me feel suffocated and alone? Check. Feel guilty and regretful about missing my younger brother grow into a young man? Check. Move into my very own dream apartment and live like an adult? Check. Feel guilty and anxious about spending my parents' hard earned money for my own benefit? Check. Put in hours of blood, sweat, and tears of hard work towards my degree? Check. Fall behind in school and discover that all the positive encouragement and praise I received for being a good student when I was younger would set me up to be a disappointment and let down to myself and family? Check.
I currently am confused about a lot of things in life. I have worked so hard to obtain my goal of getting into Nursing school, only to find out that all of my hard work still is not enough. My hair is falling out and I'm gaining weight like a pregnant lady with cravings of something that could fill my empty stomach of hope. I long for the days of when I could relax about life and "live in the moment". Now my life has dwindled down to planning and re-planning how I'm going to survive as an adult and repay debt to my parents. I know, after multiple visits and breakdowns in my Nursing advising appointments, that I will not be able to get in to the program this summer. I have tried telling my parents subtly that I feel as though I am wasting their money and time and not succeeding at anything but they continue to obliviously tell me they know I can do it. It's what kills me--their strong support and belief that I will get in, their passion about how successful and bright my future will be.
They don't see the hours, days, spent in libraries studying, memorizing, frying my brain so that I can remember for exams I know I will fail. The amount of hope I have lost, and faith I have lost, in myself has increased significantly in the past 9-10 months. There is no easy way of telling your parents, "hey, I think I'm depressed and undriven and should probably talk to someone about this". Not when they send positive encouragements and acknowledgements everyday, calling to tell you how they defend you to extended family members.
"They all think it's a waste of money to send you here, but I know you can do it. You will get in and prove them all wrong!" No, mom, I won't. I talked to the advisor and she said I should consider other majors because my chances are getting slimmer. I'm wasting your money and you are going to be so dissappointed and angry when you realize you have invested in a failure.
"You are doing so well spending all your time studying! You balance your life so well, making time for activities and traveling with friends." No, dad, I don't. I've picked up a drinking habit because I can't stand to think of the disappointment I've become and that you have yet to discover while I'm sober. Oh and all those hours were for nothing because my brain isn't as smart as we thought, I'm not doing well in my classes, you don't understand. You encourage me to travel, but I hate spending money that isn't mine, but I'll go anyways because I have this deep-rooted urge in me to escape and run away often.
"Look at you, getting asked on dates and breaking hearts of boys left and right!" No, family, I can't. I can't make myself vulnerable enough to commit myself to another person. I've built my walls so high that I can't express how I really feel, I can't trust a guy enough to tell him what I've been through, I can't be myself around them because of the years I spent trying to please everyone and act the way I thought everyone needed me to be. I don't know how to love another person, because I can't fathom how anyone could possibly love me.
My life is falling to pieces as I stretch myself to hold together the cracks. I'm trying to maintain the happy, grateful, exciting, successful life that I report back home, but in turn my GPA is dropping as fast as my happiness. I love my school, I truly do, but I don't know if I love what it encourages and supports or who it has molded me into becoming.
Before coming to college, I didn't drink. I never imagined myself being Greek affiliated. Or letting a group of college fraternity boys tell me who I should support in my community for the sake of maintaining a good reputation. Or associating myself with people who half drink themselves to death every weekend for the sake of a good time. Or those who do it daily. Or becoming one.
I'm at a loss for what to do. I've cried. I've researched. I've prayed. I've begged any form of heavenly forces to send some positivity or direction. I've received no guidance. Right now I'm on a fast track to failure and I have a heavy fear that I will have too many witnesses in the stands to watch me burn. I sometimes want to quit. At school. At trying. At life.
Things are not how I imagined them to be, and I don't know what I could have done to change them. Or maybe I do and that is what is killing me the most. But instead I will go on:
Smiling with a grimace. Eyes bright with tears. Weak hands. Slumped outlook. One foot in front of the other.
Monday, November 9, 2015
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
A Stranger's Helping Hand
"The traffic accident rates for 16- to 19-year old drivers are higher than those for any other age group" (California DMV). "Yeah right." " There's no way." "I'm such a good driver, I would never crash." All of these things I have said before. All of these I thought I would prove wrong. I always thought these kinds of statistics were aid by the DMV in order to scare teenage drivers. Well, the DMV proved me wrong last Friday.
Friday morning, I was ten minutes past the time I usually left my house. Only two months into school, I still wasn't used to driving myself to school everyday. No more doing my make-up, eating breakfast, or sleeping in the car while my mother, or another carpool parent, drove me to school.
Two streets away from my house, I realized my left mirror had been folded in, not good. Already late, my anxiety grew as I pulled over and fixed my mirror. The clocked flashed 7:25 on my dashboard, it would've read 7:10, had I not been late. After getting back on the road I drove a few miles and got on the freeway, that was the fastest way right?
Wrong.
At 7:30 in the morning, rush hour had begun, and traffic was building at the same rate of my anxiety. "Thank God I made coffee this morning", I thought, as I sipped out of my mug. The night before I had stayed up until midnight studying for a French and Chemistry exam. As I sped in and out of the lanes [safely], something under a car caught my attention. A brown, soft-looking object was caught underneath a fast moving car in the lane next to me. I thought the worst. Immediately my eyes watered at the thought of any animal being dragged on the freeway. As I got closer, though, the object took shape of a child's blanket, at least I hoped so.
The off ramp of the exit was unusually backed up, of all days. The clock ticked 7:35, which would've been alright, had there not been a huge accident in the intersection around the corner, where all cars were headed. A car behind me honked, telling me to move so that she could make a right turn. Tell me, how does someone move their car when stopped in the middle of a dozen cars? The driver of the BMW in front of me turned around, thinking I had honked at her. Oops.
A huge accident had taken place in the middle of the intersection, a semi-truck and a small family car. I sent a silent prayer hoping they were OK. Finally, I drove up the steep hill towards my high school As I neared the entrance to the lower parking lot, I realized I didn't have my parking pass hanging from my mirror. I reached down to the floor of the passenger side to grab it, and everything happened very quickly.
A huge force thrust me forward into my steering wheel, and then back into my seat. Without even looking up, I knew. I knew I had just caused an accident. Disoriented, I looked up.
The car in front of me had unexpectantly stopped. One second, that's all it took. Just one second and I had become another statistic. Another teenager of the age 16 to get involved in a car crash. A mix of angry and frightened tears fell from my eyes, and didn't seem to stop. Realizing what I had done, I froze, not knowing what to do.
Out of no where, a man tapped on my window.
"Sweety , it's ok. Just climb out the passenger side and everything will be fine."
The graying, middle-aged man reminded me of my dad, he seemed trust worthy enough, so I did as he said. Once out of the car, he reassured me everything would be OK. He guided me to the other driver I had hit. He told me what information I needed to write down. He stayed by my side the entire time to make sure I was alright.
The principle and assistant principle of my high school came toward the wreckage and helped divert traffic. I soon learned that not only had I crashed into the car in front of me, but that car then crashed into the car in front of them. A three car collision. The very first car? It was the same BMW that thought I had honked at them earlier. The funny [maybe that's not the correct word...] thing is, her passengers had been the star quarterbacks of my high school football team. What a story to tell. "Girl injures star quarterbacks day of football playoffs, Friday, October 11th, in a three car collision". How embarrassing.
After a few minutes of questioning and making sure everyone was OK I realized the man had gone, disappeared. I don't know where he went, or where he came from, but he had helped without being asked and left without being thanked.
I would say I owe a lot to that man. I might never know his name, but I'll always remember him. He helped me through my first ever car crash.
He could have been like me, in a rush to get somewhere, minutes ticking down. He could have seen the crash and kept moving on, like I had at the intersection. He could have assumed everyone would be fine and not given a second thought about the wreckage, like I had before. But he didn't. This man stopped what he was doing, stopped on the way to wherever he was going, to help someone he had never even met before. He helped me even though I had not asked.
I am forever grateful of this man. The fact that he never once gave me his name, and only cared to help me through an accident, will always amaze me.
Though I didn't realize it before......I think it was God's way of telling me to be less selfish. The semi-truck crash had been my opportunity to help those in need, yet I kept going. This man did the opposite, he grasped the opportunity and asked for no recognition.
Maybe this is just me looking into something too much, thinking too much. Maybe it was just a man and just a crash. To me though, I will forever remember that day.
I believe this man was an angel, not in the "spread your wings and fly to heaven" way, but in every other sense.
I will be forever grateful of him, for he made me realize that, sometimes, you have to help others, even if the timing isn't convenient.
Friday morning, I was ten minutes past the time I usually left my house. Only two months into school, I still wasn't used to driving myself to school everyday. No more doing my make-up, eating breakfast, or sleeping in the car while my mother, or another carpool parent, drove me to school.
Two streets away from my house, I realized my left mirror had been folded in, not good. Already late, my anxiety grew as I pulled over and fixed my mirror. The clocked flashed 7:25 on my dashboard, it would've read 7:10, had I not been late. After getting back on the road I drove a few miles and got on the freeway, that was the fastest way right?
Wrong.
At 7:30 in the morning, rush hour had begun, and traffic was building at the same rate of my anxiety. "Thank God I made coffee this morning", I thought, as I sipped out of my mug. The night before I had stayed up until midnight studying for a French and Chemistry exam. As I sped in and out of the lanes [safely], something under a car caught my attention. A brown, soft-looking object was caught underneath a fast moving car in the lane next to me. I thought the worst. Immediately my eyes watered at the thought of any animal being dragged on the freeway. As I got closer, though, the object took shape of a child's blanket, at least I hoped so.
The off ramp of the exit was unusually backed up, of all days. The clock ticked 7:35, which would've been alright, had there not been a huge accident in the intersection around the corner, where all cars were headed. A car behind me honked, telling me to move so that she could make a right turn. Tell me, how does someone move their car when stopped in the middle of a dozen cars? The driver of the BMW in front of me turned around, thinking I had honked at her. Oops.
A huge accident had taken place in the middle of the intersection, a semi-truck and a small family car. I sent a silent prayer hoping they were OK. Finally, I drove up the steep hill towards my high school As I neared the entrance to the lower parking lot, I realized I didn't have my parking pass hanging from my mirror. I reached down to the floor of the passenger side to grab it, and everything happened very quickly.
A huge force thrust me forward into my steering wheel, and then back into my seat. Without even looking up, I knew. I knew I had just caused an accident. Disoriented, I looked up.
The car in front of me had unexpectantly stopped. One second, that's all it took. Just one second and I had become another statistic. Another teenager of the age 16 to get involved in a car crash. A mix of angry and frightened tears fell from my eyes, and didn't seem to stop. Realizing what I had done, I froze, not knowing what to do.
Out of no where, a man tapped on my window.
"Sweety , it's ok. Just climb out the passenger side and everything will be fine."
The graying, middle-aged man reminded me of my dad, he seemed trust worthy enough, so I did as he said. Once out of the car, he reassured me everything would be OK. He guided me to the other driver I had hit. He told me what information I needed to write down. He stayed by my side the entire time to make sure I was alright.
The principle and assistant principle of my high school came toward the wreckage and helped divert traffic. I soon learned that not only had I crashed into the car in front of me, but that car then crashed into the car in front of them. A three car collision. The very first car? It was the same BMW that thought I had honked at them earlier. The funny [maybe that's not the correct word...] thing is, her passengers had been the star quarterbacks of my high school football team. What a story to tell. "Girl injures star quarterbacks day of football playoffs, Friday, October 11th, in a three car collision". How embarrassing.
After a few minutes of questioning and making sure everyone was OK I realized the man had gone, disappeared. I don't know where he went, or where he came from, but he had helped without being asked and left without being thanked.
I would say I owe a lot to that man. I might never know his name, but I'll always remember him. He helped me through my first ever car crash.
He could have been like me, in a rush to get somewhere, minutes ticking down. He could have seen the crash and kept moving on, like I had at the intersection. He could have assumed everyone would be fine and not given a second thought about the wreckage, like I had before. But he didn't. This man stopped what he was doing, stopped on the way to wherever he was going, to help someone he had never even met before. He helped me even though I had not asked.
I am forever grateful of this man. The fact that he never once gave me his name, and only cared to help me through an accident, will always amaze me.
Though I didn't realize it before......I think it was God's way of telling me to be less selfish. The semi-truck crash had been my opportunity to help those in need, yet I kept going. This man did the opposite, he grasped the opportunity and asked for no recognition.
Maybe this is just me looking into something too much, thinking too much. Maybe it was just a man and just a crash. To me though, I will forever remember that day.
I believe this man was an angel, not in the "spread your wings and fly to heaven" way, but in every other sense.
I will be forever grateful of him, for he made me realize that, sometimes, you have to help others, even if the timing isn't convenient.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Life Doesn't Stop For Anyone
.....hello! I've just remembered I made this blog a couple of years ago. Freshman year. Oh how things have changed. I never thought my life would play out like this...never thought i'd be dealt such an unlucky hand of cards. You know how people say "enjoy life today and live life without regrets because you never know what could happen tomorrow"? Well it's true. Whoever "they" are, (you know...those wise people that everyone talks about), they're right. I would've never thought that I'd be going through the things I'm going through now. I guess this is God's way of telling me I should've appreciated life more when everything was going smoothly. Although, I would say that pulling the cancer card twice is a little too dramatic for a wake up call.
Why is it that things never work out the way they're supposed to? Why do bad things happen to good people? I just don't understand. I feel like I've been a pretty good person my whole life. I'm not perfect, I have my bad days; but why do things like this have to happen? It makes me think I've done something wrong...but what could I have done that was so bad to deserve this?
I hate seeing people sad. That's all anyone ever is anymore. Sure, throw a few laughs here and there, but no one is really happy. And whatever happened to telling the truth about the way you feel? I wouldn't call "fine" an adjective. No one really is ever "fine". Why can't people just say how they really feel? I think it's cause everyone is scared. Everyone is scared to be vulnerable. No one wants to admit they are weak. Everyone has a weakness. Superman's biggest weakness was kryptonite. Wasn't he supposed to be the strongest man in the world? For one whole day I wish no one would lie about the way they feel. No small talks or i'm fine's. If everyone is struggling, then surely they are all waiting for someone to vent to too, right? I say just let it out. You could call me a hypocrite, though. Seldom do I ever really tell people whats wrong. Maybe before this summer I would've been more open, but not now, I can't add anymore stress to the situation.
I guess if there's anything that I have learned in my entire teenage existence, it's that life doesn't stop for anyone. Live your life the way you want to. Tell the people you love that you love them more often. Do the things you've always wanted to do, today. Don't wait for "someday". Life's short and then you die. What you do with the time in between is your choice, make it count.
Why is it that things never work out the way they're supposed to? Why do bad things happen to good people? I just don't understand. I feel like I've been a pretty good person my whole life. I'm not perfect, I have my bad days; but why do things like this have to happen? It makes me think I've done something wrong...but what could I have done that was so bad to deserve this?
I hate seeing people sad. That's all anyone ever is anymore. Sure, throw a few laughs here and there, but no one is really happy. And whatever happened to telling the truth about the way you feel? I wouldn't call "fine" an adjective. No one really is ever "fine". Why can't people just say how they really feel? I think it's cause everyone is scared. Everyone is scared to be vulnerable. No one wants to admit they are weak. Everyone has a weakness. Superman's biggest weakness was kryptonite. Wasn't he supposed to be the strongest man in the world? For one whole day I wish no one would lie about the way they feel. No small talks or i'm fine's. If everyone is struggling, then surely they are all waiting for someone to vent to too, right? I say just let it out. You could call me a hypocrite, though. Seldom do I ever really tell people whats wrong. Maybe before this summer I would've been more open, but not now, I can't add anymore stress to the situation.
I guess if there's anything that I have learned in my entire teenage existence, it's that life doesn't stop for anyone. Live your life the way you want to. Tell the people you love that you love them more often. Do the things you've always wanted to do, today. Don't wait for "someday". Life's short and then you die. What you do with the time in between is your choice, make it count.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
A Generation of Lousy Language
Ever walked around a 2011 highschool, or even middle school, and listened to the way students talk to each other? No? Don't do it, I'd be embarrassed.
The way kids my age speak to eachother now a'days is sickening. I remember my mom always telling me how producers of TV shows weren't allowed to even film a scene in a bathroom because it was impolite. Today, almost all of the vocabulary used belongs in the toilet. No one ever stops and to think about what they're about to say before they say it. No one listens to the way people speak to eachother, or how they might come across to others. The saying "Don't care what others think about you" is true, but you should care when you start to sound a bit...trashy. Dropping an "f-bomb" after every other word doesn't make you sound cool. I wish that when teenagers my age, younger and older, heard this that they did not just agree and then fall back into their bad habits again after a month.
I always thought that by not using a vile vocabulary, I would sound polite and respectful. Although, it seems, those who are respectful aren't very respected. It sickens me to the core, knowing that the way people talk with the vocabulary they do is becoming more and more acceptable in our society. I always cringe when I hear today's modern language on TV. Don't people have any respect for themselves? I'm not here to generalize teenagers, because I am one. Yes, I do slip up every once and a while and say something I shouldn't have, but thats because it's all around me, all the time. These words are constantly used, teenagers are the masters of this new found language, cussing is their art form. Reading renaissance books in history actually has me thinking for once...men used to great women with a "Hello my lady. How t'was your day?". Now it's "Hey, b*****s! Any sh*t go down today?" Repulsive.
What ever happened to chivalry? Maybe it's not dead, but it sure is heading into a long, drawn out, and torturous death.
The way kids my age speak to eachother now a'days is sickening. I remember my mom always telling me how producers of TV shows weren't allowed to even film a scene in a bathroom because it was impolite. Today, almost all of the vocabulary used belongs in the toilet. No one ever stops and to think about what they're about to say before they say it. No one listens to the way people speak to eachother, or how they might come across to others. The saying "Don't care what others think about you" is true, but you should care when you start to sound a bit...trashy. Dropping an "f-bomb" after every other word doesn't make you sound cool. I wish that when teenagers my age, younger and older, heard this that they did not just agree and then fall back into their bad habits again after a month.
I always thought that by not using a vile vocabulary, I would sound polite and respectful. Although, it seems, those who are respectful aren't very respected. It sickens me to the core, knowing that the way people talk with the vocabulary they do is becoming more and more acceptable in our society. I always cringe when I hear today's modern language on TV. Don't people have any respect for themselves? I'm not here to generalize teenagers, because I am one. Yes, I do slip up every once and a while and say something I shouldn't have, but thats because it's all around me, all the time. These words are constantly used, teenagers are the masters of this new found language, cussing is their art form. Reading renaissance books in history actually has me thinking for once...men used to great women with a "Hello my lady. How t'was your day?". Now it's "Hey, b*****s! Any sh*t go down today?" Repulsive.
What ever happened to chivalry? Maybe it's not dead, but it sure is heading into a long, drawn out, and torturous death.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Introducing Me, Myself, and I
Dear anyone who reads,
As of right this moment I am a California resident. I am a 15 year old girl with loving parents, a monster that I call my little brother, and a tiny Chow dog, who has also made clear--he is another sibling. There is nothing horribly wrong in my life, there are no threatening forces that might turn my life upside down, or anything that I should be overly depressed about (besides your average teenage dramas). Over all my life is, well, normal. Pretty boring, huh?
I've started this blog as a place where I can express myself freely, where no one, but myself, can tell me what I could've or should've done. This is the best friend I can tell anything to. The friend who listens, not judges. The person who is there for me, that never was. This is a place where I can share my mistakes and what I've learned. This is sort of like my diary or scrapbook of memories. This is a place where I can share the oh-so-crazy stories of things that are going on in my life. This is a place where I can complain and gush about a new crush. Who knows, maybe when I'm 89 years old and knitting a sweater in my rocking chair, I'll remember to look back (that's if I can still see) and read about how much my life has changed. Maybe this will be my generations' version of a time capsule.
Reader, when you read my blog I hope you get a laugh or shed a few tears or maybe just sit back think of how silly teenagers really are. Maybe you'll be reminded of when you were a teen and all the crazy stories about those Friday nights, (in which case I hope you'll share), or of the times you just sat at home and enjoyed a good book. Either way, I hope you enjoy my stories.
So, sit back and enjoy the ride of the crazy stories of my life. :)
As of right this moment I am a California resident. I am a 15 year old girl with loving parents, a monster that I call my little brother, and a tiny Chow dog, who has also made clear--he is another sibling. There is nothing horribly wrong in my life, there are no threatening forces that might turn my life upside down, or anything that I should be overly depressed about (besides your average teenage dramas). Over all my life is, well, normal. Pretty boring, huh?
I've started this blog as a place where I can express myself freely, where no one, but myself, can tell me what I could've or should've done. This is the best friend I can tell anything to. The friend who listens, not judges. The person who is there for me, that never was. This is a place where I can share my mistakes and what I've learned. This is sort of like my diary or scrapbook of memories. This is a place where I can share the oh-so-crazy stories of things that are going on in my life. This is a place where I can complain and gush about a new crush. Who knows, maybe when I'm 89 years old and knitting a sweater in my rocking chair, I'll remember to look back (that's if I can still see) and read about how much my life has changed. Maybe this will be my generations' version of a time capsule.
Reader, when you read my blog I hope you get a laugh or shed a few tears or maybe just sit back think of how silly teenagers really are. Maybe you'll be reminded of when you were a teen and all the crazy stories about those Friday nights, (in which case I hope you'll share), or of the times you just sat at home and enjoyed a good book. Either way, I hope you enjoy my stories.
So, sit back and enjoy the ride of the crazy stories of my life. :)
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