A Thousand Words

As I have grown, I have realized that I am the black sheep of my family. Or in other words, I do not fit in like the rest. Obviously every person should stand out, and not be exactly like every one of their family members, but I especially do not fit. Sure, I have a very similar personality structure like my dad, and a laugh like my mom's, but I have found that many of my dominant traits, that really showcase who I am, do not fit well with my family. For instance, I am a very emotional individual. I express myself and think primarily about my emotions. I have a strong heart. My parents, however, may be a couple of the most unemotional people I have ever met. Not that they do not experience emotion, but that they suck at expressing them. My brother as well. He has a very hard time conveying how he feels. There is nothing wrong with that at all, it just makes no sense to me. When I react primarily based on my emotions, my family often accuses me of being too sensitive. I used to see ...

I think it high time I get out of my head. On average, I promise you I spend at least 6 hours overthinking every little thing in my life. This is called anxiety. I worry about every little thing that is happening or possibly could happen. Today, I am saying enough. I am so sick of my stomach flipping every time I have any sort of worry. Everything starts to feel like life or death. I am so focused on other people that I have no time to work on myself. Today, I want to change my focus. Today, I want it to be all about me. Today, I want to be less emotional and more practical. I am quite a sensitive soul. I can take a lot personally. Today, I do not want to. For once, I am telling my heart, "NO!". I want to be myself and not for anyone else. Today I want to be strong, calm, collected. I do not want those little voices in my head to dictate how I feel anymore. I want to get out. I want to be removed.

Bold Eyes. Quiet and shy. Back of the room, Head behind mine. Just a friendly thought. No one should be alone. Especially on day one. Turned around, Emerald green. Normal greetings, Nothing new. Fell for a friend. Your face became normalcy. Bond formed, Little did I know. Maybe even best friend. Lots of love. Love came. Love lost. Long talks, Little walks. Bench overlooking the waters. Our spot. A place to ramble, A place to rage. Those eyes, knew mine. Fell out of love, Found you. Need. Must. Want. But, please? Back and forth, everyday. Prayers to give in. Deep love, Real love. Eyes overlooked mine. That is how it seemed. Heart on the floor, Crimson paint. Eyes with borders, Stronger than mine. End comes to end, Had to let it go. With a tear in the eye, Shrugged it goodbye. NO! It could not end. For those green eyes, Knew mine. Those green eyes, Wanted mine. Finally love proclaimed, To the world, To the Universe. My Universe, As ...

At the begging of this last summer, I decided enough was enough. I had spent the last two years of college eating my feelings in junk food. Late night McDonalds runs almost always occurred. At first it started out as a social way to meet people, but the habit developed into something worse. I felt so alone. Even when I made some friendships I felt horrible inside. I could not get out of bed most days. I ate as much junk food as I could without getting sick. I needed to eat to distract myself from my looming depression. I did not know what depression really meant at the time. I knew it was linked to anxiety, which I struggled with on a daily basis. However, I was fully unable to recognize the symptoms. My grades plummeted and my life felt sufficiently empty. The next two years I learned about depression and found healthy ways to deal with my anxiety and depression. I got a lot better, but my eating did not. Most people love to talk about the eating disorders revolved around body image. ...

Sometimes I am not even sure if its outside or just in my head. Constantly worried about everything and everyone. Feel like everyone has a mask and refuse to show me the face beneath. Thousands of masks that swung swords at my face, leaves me in pieces. No trust. No faith. How to fix it all? Always watching my back. Question anything that shines. Close myself off. That makes it easier. Die inside. How can I survive? Drowning and do not want to tell anyone. Afraid to pull others under. Need a life saver, afraid to ask for one. Want to solve my own problems. Is it my head that is always the enemy? Convincing me that the shadows are following? Always something behind my back to watch, miss what is in front of me. Pushing everyone away without realizing, find out, freak out. Do not want to lose the people closest to me, but my mistakes haunt me. Can anyone look past my scars? So desperately want love, but afraid that if I get some, it won't be authentic. Feel so alone...feel like I am ...

More and more recently, I have been becoming vastly aware of my own opinions about the world. With this comes new stances I take on things that I am passionate about. One of those things is animals. I have always been so in love with animals. As a little girl, I was always way more of a stuffed animal kid than a doll one. I carried my stuffed animals around like my best friends, and gave them names and personalities. As I have grown, my love for animals has only increased along with me. I am always eager to learn everything I can about any kind of animal, and refuse to have an aversion to animal simply because other people do. My favorite kind of animal is a dog. Dogs are the most loving, sweet, and loyal animals that exist on this planet. They can be your very best friend, reduce your stress and anxiety, and bring you lots of laughs!  I have never been able to describe the feeling of having a dog plop down in your lap and just fall asleep. The love of a happy, cared for animal is ...

I lay awake, soft and calm, Upon a cloud of sheets and pillows. I look to the window, big and tall. The trees dance shadows across the dark, flirting with the street light. The wind of a fan, blowing across my face. Kissing my nose, twirling the chimes. A sound so calm and sweet. As if earth and house are molded to one. Light from three holes jump out from a jar. Causing a sweet aroma to fill the room. A friend lays across from me, quiet in slumber. Not speaking out loud, but connecting with me. Feel safe to know she is there. So rare to move and immediately fall in love. It is a place to breathe, a place to think. A place to laugh, a place to sleep. Love is here, awaiting my return. At the end of each day, I rejoice to be in my new home.

I have made some really horrible friendships in my life. I am not really sure if I did any more than the average person, but I definitely have made some huge mistakes with the people I chose to be around. High School was probably the worst of it all. For some reason I surrounded myself with many people who had so many self problems. People so insecure and unhealthy. I used to take it all out on myself. Saying that I was not good enough to have some real healthy friends. That whole perspective has changed significantly. I am so over my past life. The life I had before college. This last weekend, I went to Walla Walla University's graduation for my oldest cousin. I enjoyed myself immensely. Just being with my family and laughing our heads off as we always do. However, I did not prepare myself for the realities that hit me on that Sunday morning. I essentially came face to face with my old self. Being surrounded by many many people I used to have connections with, that I have since ab...

Lately I have been having to come to terms with a harsh reality: I am growing up. Not that this was ever a shock to me, but I am caught in this weird stage of searching to be independent but not grown enough yet to be. This stage honestly is even worse when you have the constant pressure from your parents. This past year I have had to realize something most people my age and up realize; parents drive you crazy. Not the kind of crazy that makes you sulk in you room for hours because you were not able to go out on a school night kind of crazy, no, the kind of crazy where you are not adult enough for them but not open and dependent enough upon them either and they get mad either way. No one sends better mixed signals than my parents. One day they are upset because I do not touch base with them often or tell them how I am doing. The next, they are furious that I am unable to support myself fully and just "grow up." I have always been a rather communicative person. I am a Commun...