Today's Thoughts

As the title suggests, this post will be about today; more specifically, how I'm feeling today. My therapist or counselor or whatever the hell you want to call her would say that I don't acknowledge myself as much as I should - "validate" was the term she used. So today, on the seventh day in the seventh month in the year, I will be complete honest.

Which basically translates into: I will not edit or mess with this post in any way whatsoever because what's said is said, end of story. I used to think that the Internet was this perfect, interactive world where you can let the "real" and "human" side of you take a break. Whatever crude version of yourself exists outside of our virtual reality could be anonymous for a moment, and I took that opportunity to spend hours upon hours crafting this seemingly perfect version of myself.

But how the hell is that going to ever help me out in life? It's just a reason to indulge in whatever fantastical ideas you have about yourself. Then, it pretty much takes over your life.

Okay. So, honesty, I say? Honesty it must be.

It's time to get to know myself.

Truth #1: You hate yourself. You absolutely abhor the very idea of yourself because you won't accept your flaws and move on.

Well, I hate to break it to you, but there's only one you, and you're the only you you'll ever have in this lifetime. There's no possible way to detach yourself from the body you were born with, and the only two choices you have if you want to survive the rest of the year (let alone the rest of your life) is to either a) accept your flaws, or b) change them.

And that's going to take a lot of courage and strength and acknowledgment of some really shitty things that go on in life. You may have to deal with discouragement or rude people or times when you just want to punch the shit out of your pillow, but it'll be worth it.

Because, Truth #2: Life if worth it. You have the opportunity to create an attitude that will make even the small, little things spectacular. I don't mean to sound like some pretentious motivational speaker hoping to sell millions of equally infuriating self-help books, but I roughly quote Mary Engelbreit when I say, "If you can't change what you don't like, change the way you think about it."

You may not like talking to people, or reading boring old textbooks about dead people, or realizing that you epically failed at something after putting a fuckload of effort into it, but what makes all of these things horrible? Truly, it's how we look at each of them. It's the expectations and judgments we make, it's the way we look at them.

So really, what if you mess up a conversation with someone you're getting to know? Part of life. All the great relationship stuff that follow will make up for it (and possibly shame your initial mess-up with even more awkward fun).

And the boring textbook situation? How's the only way you get stuck in a state of boredom? BY NOT DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT! Work doesn't have to be work unless you make it feel like work! It can be lots of fun, just like awkwardness with other people!

And the whole phobia over failure thing - I know people like to look at you as some breed of perfectionism, but the whole overachiever image needs to lie low for a little bit. You're fiercely competitive - which I like - but stop setting such high standards for yourself. It's okay to fail. Failure shouldn't have such a bad connotation attached to it; how else are we gonna learn not to do this or that? The consequences of mistakes is what allows us to grow and became the better human beings we all strive to become.

Truth #3: You compare yourself to other people. Whether it's over physical appearance or humor or wit or intelligence, you're constantly finding reasons to criticize yourself. I don't know how to help you with that, because it's a problem we're in the mist of, but I do have advice that may prove valuable.

Look in the mirror every morning, and without flinching or being too critical, discover 5 things you like about yourself. Just 5. And remind yourself of those brilliant characteristics whenever you unexpectedly find yourself in a deep pit of darkness.

You have to acknowledge that while you may have your faults, as bad as they are in your eyes, you also have some talents, and it would be a cardinal sin if you denied those parts of yourself.

It'll be hard; you're going through an identity crisis (Truth #4), what do you expect? But I want to let you know something that you never tell yourself often enough.

Truth #5: You're beautiful.
Truth #6: You're a good person who's made bad mistakes.
Truth #7: You're a Coldplay fan, in love with India, have constant crushes on people, and LOVE eating healthy even though you hate it as well because you think people will assume you're some sort of a food snob with no life.
Truth #8: You hide during the times when you're at your best.
Truth #9: You have nothing to hide.

Don't edit this, please. I know your fingers are itching to scroll back up and fix whatever typos there are, and I'm sorry you can't handle those tiny imperfections, but isn't life full of flaws?

What would we all be without the worst of ourselves?

-----

Update: 2 minutes later

Okay, so I used spell check for, like, 2 seconds. SUE ME! I just needed to fix two words I completely destroyed in the English language.

But I am getting better, right? :)

How To End?

I cannot sleep. Maybe it's because I simply will not - too many things could happen. For example:

-My last thoughts could lead me to perverted dreams that would only label me as some sort of classic Sigmund Freud case.
-I may eventually fall asleep, but the nighttime heat will only cause me to spring awake at random intervals throughout the night until I simply won't be able to take it anymore.
-I'll fall asleep to beautiful music only to realize that my dreams took that away from me by morning.
-I'll somehow choke on my own vomit halfway through a horrible nightmare and end up dying of asphyxiation.
-I'll wake up at 2 p.m. and wish I hadn't wasted half my day.

There is a whole universe of different scenarios racing around in my little mind, but my lazy fingers aren't willing to type them all out.

Sleep. It was always difficult for me to embrace it when I was younger, which was not too long ago during a stage in my life when I was unaware of the side effects accompanying the presence of too many pain-in-the-ass classes. When there is no pressure to get work done, then there is no reason to willingly procrastinate...only to find yourself, past midnight, lying in a pool of crumpled history notes and saliva caught in the slow process of drying. That, I assure you, is one of the best ways to appreciate the minimal amount of sleep you're able to sneak in between stressful school hours.

However, that's no way to live. It's not routine or healthy or condonable. No one's gonna want to hang around someone who only gets 4-5 hours of sleep regularly - it'd be like trying to start conversations with a zombie. And that zombie - unfortunately, like many others of her kind - happens to be a moody, ill-tempered zombie who's probably trying to gnaw your neck off with unnatural fervor (if we were to take into consideration the very nature of zombies).

That's not to say I nibble at people's necks. That would be weird. But basically, I don't feel myself half the time and it sucks. Sleep deprivation was never something I had to deal with before, because having a lighter work load and lots of lots of free time came with that benefit. But as a consequence, I had a much harder time trying to get my eyes to close naturally on their own accord. I never found myself dozing off with my forehead plastered against pages of essays at 3 a.m. It was just idle little me sweating under the covers, constantly flipping the pillows over to feel the cool side against my head.  Sometimes I'd lie in bed staring off at the ceiling, unsure of why I was still staring at the same dark, creepy spot by the vent that was probably a spider of some sort (but, seriously, who wants to think about that? At the same time, though, ignoring it wouldn't make it go away...).

It would be hours and hours of this nonsense.

And here I am; the same thing occurring again. It's like spontaneous recovery or something, driven by this long spring break in which I have nothing to work on that will be due in the immediate future. It's really unsettling, not knowing which is better: frantically trying to get things done during the middle of the night, wishing for sleep as I work my exhausted little brain off; or fighting to rip free from my consciousness during the middle of the night, no stress to worry about as I struggle to slip into a deep slumber?

I know I can't be the only one with this problem. There are way too many people on this planet for it to be solely mine, a solitary battle fought alone. So does it make me a selfish person if I take comfort in this fact?

Grrr. If only life was simple. (But there's this part of me that's like, "No, you would never wish that. Simplicity may make life a hell of a lot easier and more uniform, but where's the beauty if there ain't no complexity? We marvel in complete and utter awe at discovery, at the gradual unraveling of things we had not understood before! So don't say that you wish life was simple, because that's a load of bull.")

I feel that if I were to post this thing as it's looking right now, it would be incomplete. Like I've just walked off midsentence in a conversation you and I were fully engaged in (while, of course, I was in my zombie trance trying to nibble you). I guess this whole blogging idea of being honest about myself is something I'm going to have to learn about along the way. Which is scary, but also amusing. And somewhat exciting?

Yeah, there's some excitement in there as well. A little.

Mainly uncertainty, though, if I were to be completely honest (which is my goal).

Should I end now?

Personal Goals

Like anyone with an overwhelming problem, I have decided now is the time to help myself. It's time to come to a solution, regardless of how scary and intimidating the process will be. Let's share a meal for two (spaghetti with meatballs, Lady and the Tramp style) and draw out our blueprints, shall we? Let's call everyone we can and let them know what we're going to do, so you can't back out. Let's go ice skating the next opportunity we get, and let the air blow back our scarves and hair. Let's live for once.

(End of cheesy intro. Now on to the whiny stuff.)

I'm not prepared to take risks yet. I mean, obviously my perception of myself and the world around me is highly questionable, but I can definitely count on all ten fingers the number of things I am not ready to do anytime soon. This includes skydiving, bungee-jumping, cliff-diving, riding a roller coaster, swimming with sharks, shoplifting...(I'm not serious about the last one. Just clarifying that, if it wasn't already apparent!) This must make me out to be a very sheltered person, but I'm willing to admit that it's going to take time for me to step out of my comfort zone.

The things I am referring to, in terms of changing myself, can (and do) include: getting a haircut, changing my work habits, being more open to people, giving presentations, volunteering, getting a job, taking more classes, etc. The whole reinventing process occurs in stages. Which irritates the impatient part of me, but that's totally fine. By sticking with my goals, it's inevitable that some surprising outcomes await me in the end, and my curiosity has gotten the better of me.

I'm tempted to ask an uninterested public the types of questions one would bring up in easygoing conversations (stuff like, "What are your goals?"), but am a million percent sure no one will answer. Yet, at least. It's okay though, I'm going to ask it anyway. Maybe I'll be reading this ten years into the future, and it'll evoke weirdly satisfying memories over the kind of reflective person I used to be and still am. Ha ha.

What are your goals? How do you hope to achieve them? What are some things you'd like to change about yourself?

Dealing With Uncertainty

My days are usually divided into two categories: the exceedingly happy ones (to the point where I experience euphoria, or something resembling a sort of high) and the exceedingly bad ones (plagued by discomfort, shame, and regret). I first began to recognize this with a life formula that really defined my previous mindset: as long as I woke up in the morning with extremely low expectations for the day, my behavior would be tamed and relatively stable.

However, that prevented me from ever being excited or happy about any kind of future event. Because with too high expectations, I reasoned with myself, there could only follow disappointment.

Of course, this kind of mentality comes with its problems. Life is all about balancing. Throwing a fit every time you're faced with disappointment? Not healthy. Letting uncontrolled anger rage on at others without thinking of the consequences? Not healthy. Repressing our feelings and hiding behind a smile all the time? Even that's not healthy. Yet I had (and still have) such a hard time coming to an in-between state, in which I just become accepting.

Every break, whether it's a three-month or two-week vacation, I propose to myself a plan to change myself. To be more friendly, open, less reserved, more active. But the more I focus on these extroverted qualities (that I totally deem myself fully capable of), the less I focus on my introverted nature, which has always had the dominant hand in my behavior. It hasn't fixed any of the imbalances I've recognized at the beginning, because in itself, it is an imbalance. 

As this school year progresses, I realize that I'm drifting further and further away from the stability I fight so hard to obtain. It's never within reach. I'm either too happy or too depressed to even speak to anyone both ways. And it's hard, coming to the conclusion that I can't be independent in resolving these issues.

But life isn't about pushing people away from your problems. Hell, no one knows with certainty what life is about, but I know it can't be centered around destroying relationships out of fear of ourselves.

It's about (or at least involves) trusting others enough to share with them your feelings. It's about honesty and genuineness and forming bonds, facing adversity and making friends. Making enemies. Dealing with that. Dealing with everyday living.

I don't know. At this point, I'm just rambling off. There is no coherent argument I'm trying to make. I'm just purging all these pent-up feelings I've been struggling to deal with for a while now. Maybe I just need someone to talk to. Maybe I don't know how to do it, but need some way to release my inner anguish, so turn to the Internet as some sort of therapy.

Is that a sad thing to have to admit? Depending on the Internet for comfort?

Should I capitalize the "with" in the title of the post? Does it even matter?

Where am I going with this?

I just don't know anymore.

Valentine's Day...Everyday?

Listen to the song "Nine Million Bicycles" by Katie Melua, and if anyone can sing it to me with a flute or whatever instrument solo occurs in the middle bit, I will love them forever! Katie Melua's voice has a classic quality to it that I like, but it's not necessary to make this song sound amazing. Just listening to the lyrics makes me want to swoon.

So this Thursday was Valentine's Day, undoubtedly the best commercialized holiday for romantically-involved high school couples everywhere. It gives us an opportunity to buy the biggest teddy bear for our girlfriends, or indulge in a long speech regarding the actual history behind the signing of love letters with "Your Valentine." I happen to fall into neither group; honestly, I didn't even realize how much the day mattered until becoming acutely aware that all this gift-giving totally brought attention to all the single people out there (a category I do happen to fall under). I don't remember there being so much display of affection last year, but that's partly because I wasn't as socially attentive. Or entirely observant, since spending most of your time in a library surrounded by Jane Austen paperbacks tends to do that to you.

It's not that I didn't find the whole day cute; it totally was. I can agree with you on that. Even though I may claim to be logically-minded and more involved in close platonic relationships, I am a total romantic at heart. Titanic, marriage proposals, and giant teddy bears make me melt. But I just never identified myself as one of those girls who's comfortable with having a boyfriend she enjoys kissing or hand-holding or doing PDA with. 

I'm the kind of person who reads weird science books and enjoys explaining them to people who ask me what they're about. Then, like any comfortable person would in a normal conversation, I'd ask them what they were doing, and we'd talk about that for a while.

Or sometimes we'd joke around. In those sort of interactions, laughing is pretty much a requirement. How could you not when someone's eraser bounces off the floor and hits them in the face? (I mean, as long as the worst it leaves behind is a tragic bruise. Laughing has its limits!) Or an unexpected turn towards storytelling reminds you of your own embarrassing moments from waaay back?

To me, those small, everyday exchanges are our valentines to each other. No giant teddy bears, engagement rings, or boxes of chocolate necessary (though they certainly are optional. I wouldn't mind that last one.). Valentine's Day as a romantic tradition is fun and can be a reminder of all the good, material things we can give each other out of love, but I think the rest of the days in between can be just as incredibly breath-taking and sob-inducing and hilarious!

Procrastination!

Why, oh why do I do it? If only it's as simple as commanding my brain to stop wandering away from the task at hand! And speaking of hands, why do my fingers allow encouragement from aforementioned brain to sabotage my weekend plans? I thought I already made it clear that I'll be having midnight engagements with my textbooks on a regular basis.

And I don't believe I'll let you get away from a scolding, my intimidated pair of feet. Stop hiding in my socks to stay warm! It's tempting me to crawl into bed every second of the day. Also, and more importantly, it's not helping anyone whenever you walk to the kitchen for what you originally intended to be a short snack. After so many times, have you not realized that there is more in the refrigerator than a glass of milk and some cheese sticks?

This frustrates me. I frustrate myself. It's a quite frustrating situation altogether. I've always been the kind of person who's been able to get away with doing things at the last minute, but with more expectations (internal, external, perceived, imaginary, etc. - there are all kinds of those) weighing down on my shoulders, I feel as if pursuing my old habits is like stubbornly continuing down a path that leads to nowhere, in the hopes that I’ll somehow find my way to Narnia or Middle Earth. It’s setting me up for failure. And disappointment. And a lot more anxiety then I would like.

So what would I like to change about this dire situation? First off, prioritize better. Do what’s at the top of my list first, then work my way down. To hell with comfort – it’s gotten to the point where I just keep avoiding the task and become lazy and anxious and rabbit-hearted. Just get it over with, and enjoy the feeling of comfort that will always follow afterwards.

Also, anxiety has always been a factor involved. Even when I was younger, I could always count on it to keep my work in check. It always forced me to get stuff done, especially if at the last minute, and get it turned in on time. That’s the good kind of anxiety. That’s the kind I can (sometimes) depend on. Now? I’ve used it against myself, as a way to push back everything I should do at the top of my list. Let’s end that, starting today. Because it’s the beginning of a new week and I want to start off with the first symbolic step forward.

There’s so much more I’d like to mention, but that requires putting a lot more thought into the time I should be spending on the work accumulating on my desk. Maybe I’ll continue this discussion on a second post, after I’ve gotten a better hold on my academic priorities.

Shall I end this post, then, by starting off my new week with bare feet, old socks discarded out the window? :)

My Thoughts on Music

This is going to be my first real post of substance, since I like to think of the other one as more of a prologue to My Instantly New and Improved Life (which, now that I think of it, I'm glad I didn't title this blog. And speaking of titles, that's exactly what I've been meaning to talk about today.)

The very short and random history behind why I chose to permanently stick with, after much debate and internally confliction, "The Case Study of The Rabbit-Hearted" includes the following:

1. I thought it was awesome.
2. I procrastinated, and it was the best I could come up with at the moment, and I wouldn't change it for anything - even if you offered me an actually rabbit with irresistible eyes and a cute tail. Must ignore the urge to freak out over that adorable mental image!
3. It's a fitting allusion to a Florence + the Machine song that I love dearly.
4. It makes my current endeavor sound like a mixture between a professional research project, a bizarre fairy tale, and something that's entirely significant to me.
5. And because (the most important factor involved), I flat-out like it.

So there it is! I didn't want to bore you with the specific details in between. Hopefully, I'll get into those plans later on.

If you don't already know the song I'm referring to, "Rabbit Heart" by Florence + the Machine, it has to be one of my favorite musical compositions to ever grace my ears during my particularly humble existence. Feeling sad? Listen to Flo. Feeling lonely? Listen to Flo. Feeling ecstatic and happy and like you want to jump straight out of your (closed) window due to intense joy and mania? Take necessary iPod with so you can dance down the street like a crazy person to Florence. (Which I don't recommend unless you know what you're doing. But even then! Please don't get arrested!)

I love Florence + the Machine. I think she's a goddess who came down from the sky with her equally amazing band when the clouds split open to play music and kick ass while doing so. It was my love for the feelings that their first album, Lungs, elicited within me that helped me through the rough parts of the symbolic road of life. Similarly, Ceremonials gained a meaningful place in the course of my life. Whenever I sit down, close my eyes, and actually listen to the album in all its glory - beginning to end with no skipping in between - I'm transported back to that one memory place that has been waiting for me the entire, exhausting week. And my muscles flex and my ears open up and I begin the process of relaxation. It actually has therapeutic effects on the body!

And it's not just that. I can also relate to it, which is why we even listen to music in the first place. Whether it's a connection to a certain rhythm, a melody, the lyrics, or the pure emotions released by the musician, music is one of those things that float in the air, waiting to imprison our souls. Which is a very dramatic statement to make but, come on, you have to admit it's true! And it's happened to you, as well! Even with the Top 40 songs that have an annoying habit of getting stuck in your head.

Like Plato said in a quote I really like, "Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything." Now I have no idea if those were his actually words, since I've never been given the privilege to meet him, but whether the Internet is correct or not, it's still a quote I like to carry around with me whenever I feel like I need a reminder of the beauty in life.

As an amateur piano player who also writes her own compositions, I have to say that regardless of whether I decide to reveal my work to others or not, I get the feeling that I'm ultimately sharing it with myself. Which, personally, I think is the best feeling of all.