i’ve never been that superstitious The most I’ve ever researched astrology and fortune telling has been in my Latin class, I don’t seek out omens, and the only reason I don’t walk under ladders is because I’m terrified I’ll trip over it and it’ll come […]
When preparing to head to college the most common piece of unsolicited advice you receive is to get ready for the freshman 15, referring to the approximate 15 pounds the typical freshman gains during their first year of college as the begin to acclimate to […]
A total solar eclipse occurring on my first day of classes back at the University of Oklahoma can be interpreted to mean many things, as the omens surrounding solar eclipses stretch back millennia and cover almost every culture, with each one trying its best to understand why it’s dark in the middle of the afternoon. Perhaps it means a dragon ate the sun, in which case I’d greatly appreciate it if said dragon would bring about whatever form of reptilian Armageddon is stirring up before August 25th, my bursar bill is due that day. Maybe it means the king is going to die within 100 days, though I’m betting not since Elvis died a loooong time ago.
There are so many options to choose from for you preferred eclipse omen, but I’m rejecting all of them. Instead, I’m choosing my own omen and following in the footsteps of many a scientist before me who used the solar eclipse of their generation as a source of inspiration for some of their greatest intellectual accomplishments. Even those who didn’t quite prove the theories set forth in the anticipation of the eclipse went on to do amazing things, possibly with thanks due to the sun taking a break for a few minutes. Astronomer Maria Mitchell, for example, led a group of other ballsy female astronomers out with their telescopes to view the 1878 eclipse, helping foster the love of STEM in women rarely given an opportunity to engage in the highly male dominated field while also providing a top-notch visual for generations to come.
I’m choosing to use Maria Mitchell as my omen for this particular eclipse. I’m interpreting this solar phenomenon as a sign that this school year will be nothing like the previous term I had at OU. With my mental and physical health in check—and my atrophied brain longing for the classes I’ve just been waiting to take—I’m starting this new academic year without pause. I intend to leave my first year of college in the shadows and move forward, knowing the outcome of mistakes previously made and the alternative option to put in place instead. And much like the solar eclipse, I wouldn’t recommend staring directly at my future without the proper protective protocols in place, because it is going to be bright.
Just to alleviate any potential anxiety regarding the contents of the following post, this will not be political. Personally, I don’t believe now (or ever, really) is the time for broadcasting my political views for all to see. As my favorite politician once said, “Alea […]
guess who’s back? (back again)
Long time no talk, everyone! How was everybody’s summer? Did you take classes or prepare to go off to college for your first year? Did you get the tan you’ve always dreamed of? Or did you spend these past few months remembering who you are and getting back in touch with your mental health and happiness outside of the idea you had for yourself about what it means to even be healthy and happy?
because that’s what I did
I recognize that taking a months long hiatus with no warning wasn’t super nice of me to do, and I really, truly am sorry about that, but I’m glad I did it. I so desperately needed that time off, and the progress I’ve made may not have come as quickly had I been documenting it all along, assuming I was capable of doing that in the first place.
Following the worst and longest year of my life, I had the worst and longest summer of my life. Everything was hard in a way I didn’t know things could be hard, and I had absolutely no distractions. I had originally planned to work tirelessly and take way too many summer classes before returning to Norman, and due to a series of events I will get into in subsequent posts from this point forward, that didn’t happen. I spent my summer hopelessly and unrelentingly depressed with no distraction. I had been so severely depressed for god knows how long and didn’t realize just how bad it was until the end of May, when I started to recognize that I had dug myself into a deep dark hole and had no idea how to start clawing my way out. I knew I needed help and couldn’t do it on my own.
I had stopped taking my medication. I had alienated myself from my friends. I wasn’t showering. I wasn’t getting out of bed. I was having the worst panic attacks of my life. And I wasn’t sleeping.
My friends were either in Norman or across the country on internships or working like dogs to pay for school, and I had never felt so alone. I spent a lot of time with Netflix. I applied for job after job after job. I went on some of the worst dates I have ever and will ever go on in my life. Anything to find a distraction.
It was a long, long, LONG process to get better. I got back in with my psychiatrist and therapist. through trial and error I found an SSRI that was working for me. I found ways to sleep. I started approaching the barrage of health issues I had been ignoring for the past 12 years or so. I got a new tattoo.
I cried. A lot.
But then, I got a new job. I started making new friends. I phased out a failed SNRI and started a new SSRI. I gained my appetite back. I slept regular hours. I started laughing again.
i got happy.
Happier than I thought I could be after the past year. A deep, fulfilling, profound happy that I can’t even begin to explain. A happy so wonderful and so needed it made me cry when I realized it was finally mine.
and i’m okay.
It isn’t over, it never really will be, but it’s manageable. It’s handleable. It’s okay. And for now, that is fine by me.
So right now, I’m going to work: on myself and on sustainable happiness, and at my job. I’m going to stay right where I am and fall in love with myself again,because I think I’m worth knowing. I’m not complying to the demands of my depression or anxiety, because it is not in charge of me.
i am in charge of it
So for those of you returning after a long, well deserved break, thank you. Thank you for coming back. I sure am glad to be back, and I hope you stick with me as I try to put into words the last year of my life and where everything is going from here.
I promise to at least make it entertaining.
I think we should remove that word from our vocabulary. It’s (late) International Women’s Day 2016 and people are still calling each other that four letter word.
We are so beyond this as a society and I genuinely don’t understand how someone can look at another human being and comment on their sexuality when it is none of their fucking business.
I’ll admit it, I’ve been called a whore before. I’ve been called a slut before. I’ve been called everything under the sun. But why? If I was a man I wouldn’t be called anything. In fact, I would be high-fived.
But no. I get shamed because of who I am and how I view my own sexuality. And I’m sick and tired of having to justify myself to people who don’t have any right to know anything about my personal life, but think they do, and therefore speculate, pass judgement, and spread rumors about whether or not they think I’m as deserving of sex as any other person and whether or not I am a “whore.”
The most frustrating part of it all is that I know I’m not and I know all of the comments are coming from people that 1) clearly don’t understand gender equality and think that women aren’t as entitled to sex as men are, 2)clearly don’t understand how to be a decent person and at least keep their thoughts to themselves instead of telling the people closest to me, attempting to start a reputation for me as someone that I’m not and 3) clearly don’t understand that I have the right to do whatever the fuck I want with my own life. I know all of that, and I still let the opinion of someone so far beneath me upset me.
But I’m not going to do that anymore, and neither should you.
Whether or not you’ve been harassed because of who you sleep with or how frequently, you have the right to do pretty much whatever you want short of anything illegal, and no one else has the right to tell you you shouldn’t. No one has the right to make you feel inferior without your consent, so stop giving them your consent. Tigers don’t lose sleep over the opinions of sheep, and you shouldn’t care what the dumbfuck spreading rumors about you has to say. They are very clearly closed-minded, idiotic, sexist, and their opinion means less than anyone else’s.
It’s time for people everywhere to step up and own their sexuality and actions, and to stand up for themselves.
And it’s time to stop calling people sluts. It’s just stupid.
It’s literally 2016, and as a society we should be able to move past the Victorian ideal that women should be submissive and modest and should never want sex, because let’s face it, women are people and therefore want and deserve sex as much as any man.
And no one should be shamed for that.
So in conclusion, stop shaming people for how much sex they have. Just stop it. It’s not anyone’s place to pass judgement on the sex life of any other person. Let’s take these words out of our repertoire and move on to acceptance. It’s time.