What Is Abnormal?

It's been a while since I've written. The last few weeks have been an interesting combination of both boring and stressful as hell. Preparing for graduate school is a daunting task. There's a lot to get done and a lot of information that I need to gather and compile. My semester also started this week. My classes seem manageable, and dare I say enjoyable. I think I met someone who is a potential friend, and could be beneficial to me on campus. I don't know how to socialize or make friends very well, so I don't know how to exchange contact information just yet.
I'm taking a psychopathology class this semester and even the first class was fascinating. We debated the definition of "abnormal", and how to go about diagnosing abnormal behavior. One person's normal is another person's abnormal. Abnormal seems to take on a very subjective meaning in certain circumstances. I was watching tv earlier and there was an interview with a girl who was raped and beaten numerous times, and now claims she's too depressed to work or do anything. That's abnormal to me. I went through much worse than she did, and I'm out here working and in school and going about my life. I didn't let it affect me. Which one of us is abnormal? The one who is severely outwardly affected by the trauma, or the one who moved past it and didn't let it affect their life? Am I abnormal for being emotionally stronger than her? Or is she abnormal for being emotionally weaker than me? Looking at the big picture, I feel as if I'm the abnormal one. In every case of female rape/violence portrayed on tv or in movies or books or even interviews with real people, the victims always seem helpless to me. They can't hold down jobs, they get severely depressed, they can't take care of themselves, and they overall live a sad life. I feel like the only person who took those experiences and moved on. I'm still emotionally and mentally damaged, of course. However, I don't let it affect how I take care of myself and direct my life. I catch myself scoffing at these women in the media playing the sympathy card when I've been through things they couldn't even imagine. I don't see my past as something to be afraid of or something that will haunt me forever. I made it through a very toxic place in my life, and moved beyond the person who did me so much wrong. Is moving on with my life abnormal? Or should I dwell on it and bathe in the toxic waste like so many others seem to do? It's all subjective.

Feeling 22🎉

My birthday came and went like many before it. I don't feel any different or any more prepared than I did before. I'm now 22. I'm past the "omg I JUST turned 21 yaaasss bitch" stage, and am just kinda hanging out in the "adult" area. It's pretty crazy that there are 22yr old's out there who are already married with kids. Yet here I am needing my mom to come with me to the DMV because I'm a child and can't figure it out alone. Also 0/10 the worst round of bingo I have ever played.
Birthdays are never a huge deal to us. We rarely celebrate a birthday on the actual day. We have some kisses then go back to watching t.v. like every other day. I haven't even had cake or presents yet because we combine my brother's birthday with mime since we're exactly 7 days apart. Birthdays are cool and all but it's mostly just a socially acceptable way to praise yourself. It really isn't my scene but I go along for the little ride. Its nice getting some minor attention, but my learning to be self-sufficient is more important.

Mental Capture

It's been a long time, maybe 3 months, since I've broken my silence. I stopped writing for a bit due to the excessive crippling anxiety I was experiencing due to my workload at school. Statistics took a lot of mental energy from me. During my last statistics lab test, I actually started crying. I was mentally breaking down at that point. So I handed in my test partially incomplete, left the room, and promptly went to the bathroom to cry in peace. I can be very strong mentally and I know that I've made it through a lot in my life, but stress is that constant element that brings my entire mental state down. I had to focus extra hard on keeping my mental health in check. It's easy for me to get depressed or anxious over trivial things, so it can be difficult to move past those feelings. I eventually made it to the end of the semester, which was a blessing. The day after my last final, a few friends and I went out to pizza bar, then back to my friends apartment. We all drank and played Mario Kart and talked about life. None of us had any cares in the world that night. Daniel and I drank the most by far and we laughed and sang old songs that were popular when we were in high school. We all crashed there that night at his apartment and it was just such a fun time. My resolution for 2018 is to set more time aside to hang out with my friends. I don't have many trusted friends so being around my small circle of people makes me happy, even when I feel sad or stressed. I want the year of 2018 to be the year of happiness. I need to cater more towards my happiness instead of being an anti-social hermit that leads to depression. This is very stream of consciousness, but fuck it. There's more soon to come, I promise.

Don't Fare Well

I'm trying to think of something to say. I feel like writing but I don't feel as if I have much to write about. My emotions have been a bit weird. I feel emotionally switched off at times, but then I'll be fine a little while later. Expression has never been my strong suit. I wish I knew how to express feelings the right way. It's such a basic, almost infantile, skill. Yet I don't have it. Josh is having an article written about him in a paper, and so he provided them with my phone number to do an interview for the article. The interviewer asked many questions. They ranged from basics like how we met to questions a little more in depth. I was asked "how would [I] describe Josh?". I had to catch myself from talking too much about his good qualities. I really do love him. He's so patient with me. I told her many times over the course of the interview that he's not just my boyfriend, but my partner. We support each other and are always there to help if the other person needs it. I've been dealing with a lot of emotions lately, and I'm unsure as to why. All I know is that I wouldn't be where I am right now without Josh. He's perfect. Even writing this right now I'm tearing up. I'm not emotional but something about that interview brought these feelings back up for me. I think I had lost sight of my own feelings for Josh. In trying to suppress my depression and anxiety, I forgot about my rock. I'm lucky to have someone like him by my side. It's easy to fall into the monotony of your life. You forget what life really is. You forget what love really is. You forget who you are. Being asked those kinds of questions about Josh made me think. We both haven't felt great today and I've been busy so I haven't spoken to him about it yet. I don't know how to get out of the metaphorical hole I've been trapped in. But I'm trying. I'm coming to terms with my past and trying to lay it all to rest.
I drove home late tonight. I decided to go an alternate way home and pass JP's house. I slowed down, I stopped, I took several moments, I looked, I turned up the volume, I listened, I observed, and I saw. It was familiar. I knew what was beyond those windows and walls. I knew who was there. I wondered if anything had changed. I wondered if she realized who he was yet. I wondered if she would ever get fed up like I did. I had to go. I pulled away and continued my drive home. Past the familiar buildings and where his kids went to school. Past where we met. It's sad how places that once meant so much to you now become stale and distant memories. I checked my rearview to see if he had seen me and followed where I was going. The roads were empty and it was a smooth ride. I listened to music and tried to drown it all out. By the time I got home, all of the little kids in costumes were long gone. The streets that once crawled with little ones in disguises was now desolate and void of any Halloween celebration. It was past their bedtimes. It was past my bedtime. I showered, crawled into my warm bed and began to write this. I guess I'm learning how to express little by little.

Praying

The last couple days have been weird in terms of my family. I have an aunt and uncle that we don't talk to (on my mother's side). I found out by complete accident from one of my cousins that my aunt had moved in with her daughter (my other cousin) in another state. I thought it was weird because of how far it was from her old house. I told my mom and she did a little digging, and things got discovered. After some research and making calls, we found out my aunt has lymphoma. She's known for about a year and a half, and no one told us anything. Only upon complete accident did we find out. It makes me think a lot about that dynamic. My mom and her siblings fought a lot in their adult years. My aunt and uncle did unforgivable things to my mom and did her dirty beyond repair. There's a certain animosity that I harbor against them both, but at the same time I try not to wallow in it. My family fell apart years ago and it never got repaired. My mom tried and the other two didn't want any part of it. I'd be lying if I said I missed them. I miss the idea of having extended family and people to count on, but not them as individuals. When I heard the news this morning from my mom, I wasn't emotionally affected. It sucks she has cancer, but it didn't feel as bad because I truly don't know her. I feel guilty for not feeling more sadness or worry. But I can't force emotions that I don't have.
Many people in my life have done me wrong. I've gotten hurt physically and emotionally and mentally. I'll carry that pain around for the rest of my life. I will never be the same person that I was before those individuals came into my life and took a piece of me with them as they left. Some of those people are neutral to me - I don't strongly care what happens to them. Then there are those that I hate. Hate is a strong word, but some people deserve it. I have scars that will be with me until the day I die. I often have dreams of the people I hate. I dream of hurting them like they hurt me. Sometimes my thoughts are disturbing. I've planned in detail how I would torture them and disable them from running. Killing is too fast sometimes. If I have to live the rest of my life affected by the pain, they need to feel some of that pain as well. I've caught myself smiling when daydreaming about the torture. Call me fucked up, but I think the world needs more eye-for-an-eye style punishment. There's only 1 person I would wish my life upon. The memories and flashbacks and fear and perpetual state of anxiety. I want that 1 person to feel what I felt. To see what I saw. To fear for their life like I feared for mine. To have to beg for the torture to end. I'm a harder person now because of those experiences. I find it more difficult to love someone and be loved in return. I want that person to know the irrational fears I have because of them, and how much they affect my daily life. I can only hope that one person gets what they gave me.

"Some say in life you're gonna get what you give, but some things only God can forgive"
Hey, listen.

Back to Me

I feel like I've done so much, but at the same time nothing at all. I try to write more often to keep my mind flowing and clean, but I've been busy. I've been reading a lot of stories and books and poems and sonnets for my English classes. I've been taking (painfully) tedious notes in statistics. I've put more effort than I thought was needed into faking not knowing the language for my German class. I've spent hours upon hours in the library or at home or on the bus reading and studying and writing papers. The good news is that I'm positive 3/4 of my professors like me.
I've been trying to balance out my school life with more social things. I've met friends for lunches/dinners, I've put effort into conversing more with my friends, I've made plans to hang out way more than I normally would. I've gotten great grades so far so I'm trying not to stress myself too much. My back has been killing me the last few days. It's gotten to the point of being so painful that it makes me nauseous. Even right now laying in bed I would rate my pain a 6/10. It's uncomfortable and is getting in the way of my work. I can't sit or stand for long periods to write papers or listen to lectures otherwise I can get into excruciating pain. Chronic pain is a bitch.
Lastly, some stuff has happened in my personal life. Josh's mom got into a crazy accident that totalled her car and sent her to the hospital. It was an interesting day. I've also found myself staying up later than usual. I like to be asleep around 1, but lately I've found myself awake at sometimes almost 3am. I found out my cat needs to take a pill every night, so that's been worrying if we can't get him to take it sometimes. Today I hung out with Gurmeet and his family for a few hours. I learned about Diwali and ate homemade Indian food (and dessert). It was nice just talking and feeling relaxed.
Anyway, I suppose my life could be worse. I've been thinking about the past recently and how much I've grown. I'm not the same person that I was 2yrs ago. Some people just don't seem to understand that. It takes time to accept your life and be happy with who and what you are. I was a very passive person in the beginning of my childhood. I was impressionable and weak and wanted to make everyone else happy. But now I've grown into who I always wanted to be. I'm tough and a little abrasive. I don't have a filter. I don't care what other people think. I'm a straight shooter and don't like fake people, and I have the mouth of a sailor. I've put up extra walls since I was last broken down. It's been a struggle but I've come out stronger over the last couple years. Not everyone has the luck of becoming a better person after tragedy.

43:12

Getting adjusted to the new school hasn't been very difficult so far. I'm getting to know the basic layout of the campus and where buildings are. I know my way around the library now and can manage the dining hall. Though, I'm still not into the socialization just yet. It's a huge campus so I pass a lot of people during my time there. Some of them I can tell I'd be good friends with judging on what they're wearing or how they carry themselves. But I'm much too reserved to actually talk to people. I only speak when spoken to, or if forced to do some kind of group discussion. Overall, I'm enjoying this experience. The classes are higher levels than I'm used to coming from a community college, but it's refreshing. People use larger words in longer sentences about more complex thoughts, and I love it.
I was leaving the library after dark a few days ago after spending a couple hours studying and doing some work. I like to listen to classical music when reading so I had my headphones in listening to one of my favorite pieces - The Firebird, composed by Igor Stravinsky. I walked by the security checkpoint and through the lobby. As I opened the door to the outside world I felt a crisp breeze on my face and the finale of Firebird was playing in perfect harmony to my opening the door. It was a literal breath of fresh air that seemed to hit me all at once. It was just a very powerful feeling that radiated from within my chest. I felt good. I felt motivated. I felt like this is truly where my life was leading me. My grandmother walked the steps of this library. My Great Uncle walked the steps of this library. My mother walked the steps of this library. And I am now walking the steps of this library. I don't regret where I've been and the lessons I've learned since I graduated high school. If I would have come straight to this college, I would have missed out on so many great memories and adventures. I don't want to ever forget where I've been, but I truly feel this is where I belong. Every time I look out onto the quad, I can picture my mother playing frisbee with her friends. I can see my grandmother rushing to classes. I can see my Great Uncle making his way to the library to do research in his rented carrel. It makes me smile thinking about the history that campus has for my family, and now what is has to offer me. Life works in funny ways, I suppose.