A Paragraph a Day Keeps the Therapist at Bay.

Here I choose a word at random, from conversations I've had today or from randomizing the dictionary, and I talk about my experience and thoughts on the topic.

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Idealization

idealization, idealisation [aɪˌdɪəlaɪˈzeɪʃən]

n

1. the representation of something as ideal

2. a conception of something that dwells on its advantages and ignores its deficiencies

3. a general theoretical account of natural phenomena that ignores features that are difficult to accommodate within a theory.......

I also found this definition....

In psychoanalytic theory, when an individual is unable to integrate difficult feelings, specific defenses are mobilized to overcome what the individual perceives as an unbearable situation. The defense that helps in this process is called splitting. Splitting is the tendency to view events or people as either all bad or all good.[1] When viewing people as all good, the individual is said to be using the defense mechanism idealization: a mental mechanism in which the person attributes exaggeratedly positive qualities to the self or others. When viewing people as all bad, the individual employs devaluation: attributing exaggeratedly negative qualities to the self or others.

In child development, idealization and devaluation are quite normal. During the childhood development stage, individuals become capable of perceiving others as complex structures, containing both good and bad components. If the development stage is interrupted (by early childhood trauma, for example), these defense mechanisms may persist into adulthood.

First and foremost I think it is fair to point out that all humans are subject to this example of thinking from time to time.  The frequency in addition to the extremes of these mindsets is how I have begun to measure the maturity of others.  Don't get me wrong, I don't go around making judgement calls on the maturity levels of all the people in my life.  I do however carefully choose the people closest to me by this method. 

   For example; I have had relationships that started off with someone just absolutely adoring me.  They love the fact that I can cook, I'm well traveled, I'm a decent musician, and have other artistic/jack of all trades type talents.  They swoon over me like I'm the cat's meow, and everyone until this point has been only half as cool.  Then one day, perhaps they are just having their own issues, or I start using my "natural born leadership" skills to start bossing them around.  Or maybe I dive into some sort of self aware, self seeking, self loathing, depths of a cynical pity party.  Oh yes, I always have my excuses, but at this point their idealization of me has not only crashed and shattered into a million irreparable pieces, it has transformed and plunged head first into dark devaluation of my being in it's entirety. I now can do nothing right, no gourmet meal, no drawn masterpiece, and no perfect melody can bring me back to their original delusions and manifested perfection of me.

I'm sure I'm not the only one to experience this.  Also, if you have, it isn't your fault.  The person who victimized you in this way has their own self-assuring and self validating issues.  People who view each other and life situations in this way have yet to come into adulthood completely, and you are one of a long string of people and events that will always turn out the same way. In addition, this term first appeared in Freud's definition of narcissism.

     If you yourself find things consistently following this pattern, I can only hope that you learn eventually, that all events and people have a duality to them.  Even more importantly this duality exists in all forms of nature.  Perfection could not be conceived without imperfection, same as light to dark, good to bad, and even chaos to order.  It is absurd then to hope to appreciate the best of a person when you can't deal with or acknowledge their worst.

      Lastly, it is a beautifully glorious thing to witness and experience your lovers, friends, and family, eternally wrestle with their own duality, and to be there for them whether they win or lose.

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Truancy

n. - failure to attend (especially school).

A friend and I once skipped school for her birthday, October 11th. We then skipped school for my birthday, October 12th. Then, on the next day, October 13th, we actually attempted to make it to school on time for the first time in three days. However, a lot of things went wrong. We were walking from her home, as I had spent the night there, and it wasn’t exactly the short walk we anticipated. With moments to spare, frantically worried that we may have missed too much school, we panicked. In our panic, we managed to somehow pull over a police officer. Or maybe we ran into one on our walk. I’m not 100% on the details, it’s been about ten years since this happened. Anywho, we run into this cop. We explain our plight to him, not mentioning the other two days of school we had skipped, and he explained to us the concept of truancy. Not wanting us to break the Florida truancy laws, we asked him for a ride to school. We hopped in the backseat of his cop car and he turned his lights on, no siren, and dropped us off in front of our school. Naturally, the entire school was hanging out in the courtyard at the front of the school where this officer dropped us off. He had to get out of his car to let us out of the backseat because the doors didn’t open from the inside. I don’t think either of us really realized what this looked like to the other people at our high school.

On another day, I skipped the end of school to go pick up my friend from her high school up in Wellington. My friend, a male this time, came along with me. We played bad 90s rap for the 45 minute drive from Palm Beach Gardens to Wellington. In these days, I had a car full of random stuff, including a trunk full of costumes, so you would never know quite what to expect from me. We made it to my friends school to pick her up in time and decided we would go to Barnes and Noble and get some coffee. We rolled down the windows to my car, as my friends were smokers. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that I had borrowed roughly 200 pages of fax paper from my math teacher, Mr. Emery. The thing about fax paper is that it’s perforated and it’s all connected in one, long strand. I had placed this paper in the middle of my back window, above where the seats were, which happened to be the preferred place of the wind when it entered my vehicle. The fax paper was whipped up through the air, around all three of our heads, sending me into a blind driving frenzy. All I remember is paper whipping me and everyone screaming as I tried to rip the paper in half off of my face. Then, the paper started free flowing out of the window onto the road. I maintained control of the car while my friends rolled up the windows and pulled the paper back into the car. It really didn’t get fully under control until I stopped at a red light. 

I skipped my chemistry class with my friend Peggy, a person whose name I can mention freely since I’m almost certain I will never see or hear from her again. I’m pretty sure that no one can associate me with her. Anyways, we skipped class and went to Walmart. It was around Halloween time, so we were messing around in the costume aisle. I dressed up in this child’s crustacean outfit and she was dressed up as an angel. We ran around Walmart, having a jolly good time, when I hear a voice from behind me, calling my name. It’s my mother. I’m obviously supposed to be in school. So, with incredible finesse, I yell, “MOM! So good to see you! This is my friend Peggy!” Luckily, my mom is awesome and was indifferent to my skipping chemistry, and then treated Peggy and I to lunch and gave me a ride home.

Those are the main three experiences I can recall from my bouts of truancy.

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Season

n. - Each of the four divisions of the year

There is a lot to be said about this word. In particular, I am reminded of the rapidity of the actual change of seasons in the new town I live in. In Florida, seasons didn't change. In Colorado, they don't just change, they emerge voraciously. It's a type of beauty I have never been aware of. I'm entranced with leaves and I find myself often dancing in their decay, throwing their corpses upwards and having them tickle my face as they drift down. Seasons are beautiful, and I am sorry for those who do not experience them.

I am also reminded of how quickly everything can change, not just seasons. One day, a person can be rich with hope, only to have it stamped out the next day. However, there is also the opposite scenario: one can be riddled with sorrows, only to find that the next day is beautiful and perfect and a lovely portrait of how everything could be. I'm trying to remember this now, as I let the cruelty of my negative thoughts creep deeper into me.

I have recently felt incredibly defeated and inconsolably sad. My amazing boyfriend has gotten me through this for the most part, but it creeps up occasionally and I can't handle it. I mean that. I let it get the best of me and take it away. I can change this and I need to. I'm sure it stems from pent-up guilt and a feeling of abandonment, but I can't figure it out.

Season also makes me see the phrase "sea son." I have been longing to immerse myself in a body of water. I want to feel that tranquil floating sensation and experience the overwhelming silence that comes with being underwater. I want to lay on the floor and look up to see the distorted image of the world above me. I don't want to think. I don't want to move. I feel as though water is my element and only through water can I be completely comfortable. Whenever I'm in doubt in life, I want to go for a swim. Whenever I want to clear my head, to feel apart of something, to really understand everything, I swim. I've really missed it and I feel as though I was born from the sea sometimes.

I then am drawn to things that are seasoned. I appreciate experience more than I let on and I take advice to heart, even if I seem like I'm brushing it off. I wish I had more conversations with the people in my life that I consider the most experienced, like my grandmother. She and I see eye-to-eye on a lot of things and we share a birthday, so I've always felt we have had a special bond. I'm just afraid that I don't know enough about her. I'm afraid that my lack of knowledge in her life is going to cause me great regret and remorse in the future, but I don't know how to remedy that.

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Mammon

Mammon is referred to in the New Testament to describe material wealth or greed, most often personified as a deity, and sometimes included in the seven princes of Hell.

"Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon." - Matthew 6:19-21,24 (KJV)

In addition to mammon being an outdated word in Christian terminology, it is still used in slovak, German, Spanish, and Arabic cultures as a word for greed.  It's Greek roots also predate Christianity.  Later in the middle ages Mammon became the name of demons in popular writing, folklore, and religious sermons.

Due to my religious, low class, and off-stream/hippie upbringing, I have always viewed money as the root of all evil.  I have spent most of my time blaming the poor state of society on the upper class in addition to corporate greed.  Two things that feed perpetually back and forth into each other, continuously setting the current economic bar high or low. All the while the lower middle, low, and impoverished classes ride the ever fluctuating wave up and down. 

However, there are other alternatives to this mind set. Instead of blaming or being envious of other's wealth, one could see it as an opportunity to have goals, motivation, and harness the underdog spirit. If money and greed are such strong manipulators to religion, families, corporations, and most the relationships of many people who have it, wouldn't it make sense to celebrate the freedom from such entrapments? Wouldn't one feel the weightlessness of that particular bondage? 

 Yes sometimes not being able to afford quality food or vacations leaves me with a twinge of jealousy, but being a cook gives me the opportunity to make those foods, and being poor has provided me to depend on others, to be able to make friends, and travel this country.  There are other time when things are even more unfortunate like not being able to afford health care to fix my hernia, or not being able to afford a wheel chair lift for Allie.  Like most people, things not happening on the "perfect timing" frusturate me.  But perhaps helping, being helped, blessing or being blessed only furthers the depth of the human bond and experience and perhaps being free from greed is the only thing that enable many of us to do so.

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Critic

n. - A person who expresses an unfavorable opinion of something.

I hate everything.

This is a phrase that I say a lot, and I do hate a lot of things. I hate smoking. I hate drugs. I hate banana spiders. I hate violence. I hate criticism. I hate being wrong. 

However, I am easily able to validate these actions. I don't hate the people who smoke. As a matter of fact, I love them. I don't want them to be a product of their addiction and I don't want them to die of lung cancer. I don't want them to smell like cigarettes and be covered in ashes, it's too reminiscent of a funerary urn. But, I'm not going to tell them this. Why would I? It's only going to make them feel bad and they're not going to quit. I just ask them to quit and drop it. It's hard to be okay with everyone's choices, but you have to know that they make them and that's that.

I don't hate the people who do drugs. I love them. I want to help them all, but I can't. I want to tell them that it's okay, that they don't need these drugs, that whatever problems they have that are causing them to need them are solvable without it. That the path that they are going down is one of loss, sorrow, and ultimately, death. The same could be said about life, but drugs hasten and multiply the negative effects of life, while taking away all the good. I have chosen to remove these people and this hobby from my life, even if it means kicking out family members from the circle of people that I trust. But, they can't stop for a reason. They have an incurable disease that I am incapable of even comprehending, and I forgive them for that. I forgive the people who have manipulated and used me in the past as a means of getting drugs. I forgive the people who have put me in compromising situations because they left drugs in my car, or decided to drink alcohol in my backseat, or even the people who thought it was okay to drive me home after drinks. 

Okay, I seriously can't justify the existence of banana spiders. Fuck you.

I'm a non-confrontational person. I can't justify hitting people with the intent to wound them. I can't think of a single thing that could be solved peacefully, without the thought of force even coming into play as a factor. I know violence exists, and I know there's a culture that comes with it. Violent people are angry. They are jaded. Maybe we don't have a responsibility to calm them, but I feel like I do. I feel like I have so much I can give, so much I can correct, if I could just get in the position to do so. People wouldn't have to commit crimes to get themselves imprisoned to receive healthcare that they need. People wouldn't have to consider the United States of America intolerant if we would just practice tolerance.

I hate criticism because I feel like whenever I get into an argument/debate with someone, it doesn't feel like one. It feels like anything is said or anything is quoted just to prove points. There is no consideration of the other side. This is the main problem with the world. Both of the arguments are valid arguments because they are opinions, according to society, but I don't feel this way. I think the only stance anyone should have is the stance on themselves. I don't personally smoke, should we ban cigarettes? I carry the opinion that marijuana is nothing but a slightly healthier cigarette, does that mean we should condemn everyone who smokes pot? Why do people always condemn things that they don't agree with? If you don't agree with it, don't do it. Don't push your opinions on the masses.

I hate being wrong, but I'm never afraid to admit that I am. I wouldn't let something like that come between me and anything, but it's hard to deal with. It's hard to believe that something you've taught others is wrong. It's hard to believe that someone would betray you in teaching you something wrong. It's just a sickening feeling. That's why I do research. That's why I make sure I have facts from reliable sources, not newspapers or biased sites. 

Yes, I am a critic, but I'm not critical. I see the validity in allowing everyone thoughts and opinions and keeping away from laws that would condemn anyone's right to choose. I weigh the pros and cons of every situation and act in a manner that is appropriate to further human society.

The best way to promote your opinion is to refrain or join in on activities that you do or don't agree with. 

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Eyesight

n. - A person's ability to see.

I've had glasses since Kindergarten. I remember being excited to get them. Similarly, I was excited to get braces when I got them in the 6th grade. I had thought that these physical alterations were just stepping stones to growing up. Glasses, braces, ear piercings, bras, shaving. These were things that were going to make me normal.

I was never teased for wearing glasses, although a boy I had liked in my class was. He was creatively called 'four eyes,' while I silently liked him and his glasses. I felt a sense of camaraderie even though I didn't get the same phrases thrown at me. Other things were reserved for me, specifically about my weight and my hair. Apparently those were so distracting that I never got flack for wearing those lovely over-sized round glasses that the 90s were so fond of. 

My mother frequently states that all my bad traits were inherited from my father. I remember playing that I was 'fake mad' at him when I came home from the eye doctor with my first eyewear prescription. I've managed to be 'real mad' at him since for other attributes I've picked up from his genetics. My eyes have become worse every year since then. I'm currently at a -5.75, -2.00 in my right eye and a -7.25, -1.25 in my left. I usually win the 'who has worse vision' contests when I exchange glasses with people. I'm weirdly proud about it.

I work with glasses now. I work in a lab, making lenses for people. I adjust glasses for people as well. I regularly touch glasses that are so encrusted with green and yellow grime from years of use and lack of cleaning. I can't even be angry with the customers about it because they're all so old. Little old people that have no idea that they are so disgusting. 

I hope my eyes settle down someday. I'd rather be deaf than blind.

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Deluge

n. - a severe flood

When I was younger, a hurricane flooded my parents neighborhood. I remember my dad picking all the neighborhood kids up from the elementary school bus stop in his work truck. He loaded us in his truck, one by one, straight from the bus, stacking us on top of one another. He then made sure that all the kids got home safely, or if their parents weren't home, he let them hang out at our house until their parents came to get them. 

School was cancelled for the first time in my memory. The hurricane hadn't even come yet. What had hit us was a feeder band of the coming storm, Hurricane Irene. My parents boarded up our home, brought all of our patio furniture indoors and my brother and I played Super Nintendo and slept for hours.

We spent 48 hours in total darkness, not allowed to leave my parents' bedroom where we were boarded up. We had gallons and gallons of water in there, along with tons of snacks and canned foods. When the storm had finally passed, according to our battery powered radio we could now go outside.

The storm had left our yard in shambles. There were mailboxes and patio furniture in our driveway (none of which were ours), which was now almost completely covered in what appeared to be a river. Huge trees and foliage were strewn everywhere. A 22 foot pine tree had come within inches of collapsing our roof. Power lines were down, as were phone lines. The water came more than halfway up our driveway, 10 feet away from our garage. It was about 3 feet deep and the threat of alligators inhabiting it was very real.

Neighbors kayaked, canoed, and boated to other neighbors' homes, checking out damage and making sure everyone was alright. I wasn't allowed to go more than 4 feet off of our driveway, because that's where you stopped being able to see the driveway and it gave way to a dark abyss.

The water was moving in a strong current towards the drains at the end of our road and I weighed about 50 pounds wet. My mother worried I was going to get sucked into the drain.

It took them about 36 hours to get our water and power back up and running, which is an impressive amount of time. For others in our neighborhood, it took 7 days. They relied on the kindness of others to help them.

Now, my parents have moved into a home with windows that are bulletproof, so they no longer have to board up the house during hurricanes. They have purchased a generator that they set up in the garage after the storm has passed to provide the refrigerator and other important household items with power. Cell phones allow us to receive updates in the midst of storms with a questionable 4 hour window when the eye of the storm passes over us. The most annoying part of the passage now is bringing in the outdoor furniture.

"Hurricane Parties" are frequent during these storms, where people drink and hang out for three days straight, as the hurricane has forced them too. Yes, they're a real thing. Since I've moved to Colorado, that's the question I've been most frequently asked.

One year, we had four hurricanes in a row and we missed about three weeks of school. This changed school policies in Florida, giving students the new "Hurricane Make-Up Day" idea they have in the school system now.

Keep in mind, hurricanes always hit the impoverished the worst. This is only a middle-class child's perspective on the storm and it's only based on what I can actually remember. Life got easier when my parents' business did well and we were granted luxuries like generators, but hurricanes are serious business. They change laws, they can make or break elections, they create homeless and unemployed people, and they kill.

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Scaling

n: the thin, flat, horny plates forming the covering of certain animals, such as snakes, lizards, and pangolins.

Seeing this word reminds me of a Komodo Dragon. While one can scale a ladder, or measure out weights on a brass scale, the sound of the word "scale" [skeyl] suggests something substantial, long or drawn out, and sharp. It has a cadence to it; a sense of finality. The scaling on a Komodo Dragon is a major reason to respect these creatures - in fact, it's one of the similarities they share with the mythical Drakes, and probably why they're named (and known) as such. Scales form a type of exoskeleton that allow for dextrous movement, and provide protection at the same time as they regulate body temperature. They even come together to form coloured patterns (for both camouflage and mating), as is the case with butterflies: they have (itty-bitty) scales on their wings.

I think about the idea of "protection" in context. Scaling on an animal can protect them by providing a hard outer armour, but can also hide them in their surroundings or provide visual clues to their would-be predators that they aren't to be messed with. Human beings are hardly so simple in their communication, but could our vulnerable, fleshy bodies be scaling for our minds? A person's mind has capabilities for many things, and we've all known ourselves to be cold and unflinching, sometimes cruel. We've also, I'm sure, met a moment where our minds have been vulnerable, or self-destructive, without a way to "turn off". Could it be that these bodies of ours are soft for a reason, and even our emotions (our "hearts") provide protection for our mind from outer stimuli by distracting us with pain and pleasure on a physical level? A lizard can avoid overloading its body temperature by regulating the amount of sunlight it takes in - its scales help to do this, and evolution has shown that it's not just in small animals, either. A Stegosaurus had a ready-built system to regulate its temperature (which is great, being cold-blooded and the size of a house), and I can't imagine why humans wouldn't have milllions of years of evolution behind them when it comes to protecting what lets them survive. Could our minds themselves have a type of scaling to keep our intellect - the one thing that might save our species in a world where we're physically vulnerable - intact? Think about why a lizard might have scales instead of an exoskeleton. Unlike a beetle, or a cockroach, a lizard needs the agility and dexterity to climb thin branches and move quickly away from predators that even relatively thick armour wouldn't save it from. A beetle has the option of flight, a smaller body mass allowing it to fall relatively greater distances without regards to landing smoothly, and the advantage that its place on the food chain puts it below many of the "much larger" predators' notice, but above the millions of other insects that might try to harm it. On the insect's level of combat, that exoskeleton combines with a beetle's size to be very important, whereas a lizard might not have a fair fight with most amphibians or mammals it shares a habitat with, that might acquire a taste for its species. In the long run, a lizard does better using a nonlinear form of protection, while still requiring something more resilient than a soft skin. Though, in a straight comparison, a lizard's skin protects it from the same insects the beetle's exoskeleton does. Does this line of thinking give way to the idea that humans have mental scaling (even if it's just as simple as "bees hurt, stay away") to protect them from the bottom portions of the food chain, but that are still flexible and agile enough to nonlinearly protect us from our own predators, tangible and otherwise? Could we have reached an evolutionary phase where psychic predations and overloads of stimuli threaten our well-being (and thus, our lives) in such a way that we require more than just intuition and an epidermis (or anti-bodies) to stay alive as a species on Earth? If all of this has a point, it's to say that mental health is a quality just as valuable - and just as vulnerable - as bodily health. Motivation, drive, and willpower are perhaps the squishy center of our being, and are targetable prey for the world we live in, in a way that ambulation, strength, and fertility couldn't be. A reptile sheds its skin (and its scales) to make way for thicker, sharper, and correctly-sized replacements, all to better protect itself in the long run. We can't forget to do the same, even if we have to survive the period where our fleshy interior is raw and exposed, while our scaling grows anew.  

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Striptease

n. A form of entertainment in which a performer gradually undresses to music in a way intended to be sexually exciting.

Well, I'm glad we're hitting this part of my life early on. When I was younger, let's say 17 to 18ish, I (barely) remember being drunk and frequently giving stripteases and lap dances to friends. I was, at the time, exploring a new side of my feminine ideals. I had just learned that I had the capacity to woo and manipulate and that my capacity for those would increase when people didn't consider me a threat. Easiest way to have people not consider you a threat? Take your clothes off.

I did it because it made me feel good. I felt sexy and wanted and like I was the center of attention. Of course, this wasn't always true because I had female (and sometimes male) friends that would join me in this endeavor and they would get more attention, but I was having fun! I suddenly understood how feminine stripping actually was. I was comfortable around these people and I never felt threatened by their presence. As a matter of fact, they made me feel well-guarded. 

However, people are cruel.

Somehow, I was being judged for my actions outside of this friend group. I had people chastising me, telling me it was 'gross and slutty' to do that and that I was an 'attention whore.' Now, let's be honest here for one second. What teenager doesn't want attention? Of course there was a bit of attention involved, but it made me feel good. It's not like I went up to strangers and started grinding on their genitals (I'm looking at you, dance clubs), but at a private party, I had fun with my friends. I also had the logic that my bra and underwear were about as revealing as my bikini, so what was the difference, really? I brushed it off as not a big deal.

That's when the slut-shaming began. People I didn't know were criticizing me for actions they didn't even witness or understand. Anonymous comments were left on my online journal, which I promptly deleted. I had to make my myspace more private and secure because I didn't want these people to have a chance to victimize me. They were suffocating me, and for what? Because I gave friends a striptease at a party consensually and safely? Because I found a form of self-expression in dancing around half naked?

I didn't choose to judge these people for their actions but they chose to judge me. I mostly was able to ignore them and their comments, but what about those less fortunate? What of people who do have a one night stand at a party to make themselves feel good and then get condemned because of their actions? Do you think shaming that person into not wanting to talk about it is healthy? Don't you think they're tearing themselves apart enough without your help?

Why not try something constructive? Ask the person objectively if they were doing what they really wanted to do. If they answer yes, drop it and don't hold a grudge. If they answer no, ask them why they did it and talk to them about it.

So many relationship failures in my life can be attributed to people not doing this. So many people have witnessed my blatant unhappiness with someone, albeit a romantic relationship or just a friendship, and let me be miserable and ultimately destroy the relationship past the point of no return. Don't do this to people you truly care about and love. Don't make excuses for doing it. 

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Regicide

n - A person who kills or takes part in killing a king; the action of killing a king.

This word immediately causes me to personify a chessboard. In my experience, it's usually the queen or a pawn who kills my king when I play chess. This is incredibly symbolic: it's either someone who you've potentially mistreated and underestimated murdering you unexpectedly, or it's the one who was destined to be your love for life slowly poisoning you. This causes me to do some self reflection. How have I been treating other people I know? How have they been treating me? Am I successful in my personal relationships?

The answers are not simple answers. Though I treat others in my life with utmost loyalty and love, it's almost never reciprocated. Does that make me the pawn? Will that person one day look down from his or her throne and see me and think "Man, I wish I would have treated her better!" or will they simply brush me off as unimportant? Most days I feel like this is the role that I play, despite whatever level of self esteem I may have.

Or maybe I am the queen. Maybe I disregard those who love me because I am blinded to it. Maybe I consider their actions treasonous and abandon them too quickly, before I have weighed all possible options and determined the type of human that they are or that they could be, with guidance. I burn more bridges than I build, and it's a personal flaw of mine to never look back and try to patch things to make them right.

The king is the symbol of success and riches, but also of oppression. This could describe my internal struggle. I know I'm doing what I should be in life and getting there, however slowly I may be going, and this will lead to my ultimate happiness. But even with all of this privilege, there is a silent monster lurking inside my brain that pulls out every horrible thing I've done in life and puts it on the big screen of my eyelids when I try to sleep at night. I'm doing well in school, but I feel at times my mind is being eaten raw by thoughts I shouldn't have.

This is how this blog started. I have these thoughts and ideas that literally consume me, taking away my energy and motivation. This is me being proactive about it. I think that as this journal grows, more thoughts of mine will be released, and with it, all the stress that I've been holding onto for so long.

And maybe it will help someone else.