Get It Together September

I've had a lot of barriers to being productive lately. I feel like I'm finally starting to leave the heavy fog of depression behind me and gaining some new perspective and breaking through the person I don't want to be, but these last five or six days have been filled with heavy anxiety (the kind that makes me feel like my body is a brick and my heart might literally beat out of my chest and it feels like I'm dying), a sinus infection, and the kind of exhaustion where my head is just fog. It's really discouraging to just barely start to feel like I can breathe a bit and then have my body and mind attack me again. I don't really know how to fix this, but I know I need to try to get through and not let my anxiety steal my life from me. It's very hard to find the balance between not letting my anxiety/depression rule me and knowing some days it will get the better of me and that's not cause to beat myself up. 

Last year, I started the tag "#GetItTogetherSeptember" which was basically me trying to make myself do the things I had continually been putting on the back burner and getting my shit together. I believe I was pretty unsuccessful. Even so, I'm doing it again this year. Hopefully a blog of my goals will help me to get them accomplished. I've said this before, but I think there's a lot of power in sharing your goals with others. 

September Goals:

• Go to the doctor
• Get all my crowdfund perks done and sent out
• Make at least three YouTube videos
• Do a Fangorn Fables blog
• Walk (or hike) for at least half an hour four times per week
• Go on at least one adventure
• Make a budget for the month and stick to it
• Do at least one social thing per week 
• Apply to at least two jobs per week
• Write in my journal every day
• Read at least one chapter of a book every day
• Finish at least five books
• Clean/organize my room
• Draw one thing every day
• Answer my friend surveys

I would love to hear some goals that you guys have this month, and it would be my favorite if you use my hashtag. Here's to a good September and being our best selves every day!

Loving Yourself

Scrolling through Tumblr just now, I found this text post: 

"It’s gross as fuck to tell people that no one will love them until they love themselves. Loving yourself is hard. Listen: you are loved, you are worthy of love and respect, and you can be loved even on the days when you see nothing in yourself to love."

I think there's so much truth in this idea. Loving yourself can be incredibly difficult, and everyone deserves to be loved and respected, even if they don't necessarily love themselves. It's important to know that those who truly love us, love us on even on our worst days when we're not too keen on ourselves. I think there is more to be said, though.

What I have learned over the past year or so is that the good old saying, "You can't love until you love yourself" does have a lot of truth in it. 

I have a lot of love inside of me bursting to get out, but I never allow it to be used on myself. Self-love is not something I've ever been good at. The thing about it is that it WILL seep into your relationships. I think the ways I have hurt people I love most is by not loving myself. That's a really difficult thing to deal with because it's something I should be able to prevent, and I hope one day I will be able to look deep enough (or maybe the opposite) to do that. I'm a very introspective person, though, and it's hard not to find tons of faults within myself, and right now I haven't learned to stop the introspection and negative thoughts about myself. It's difficult for me to believe that people truly care about me, so yes, in that way it is very hard to love and be loved. If I can't accept love, it's hard to say that I'm truly giving it, and it becomes a vicious cycle when I hate myself more for hurting people with my lack of self-esteem. Love is certainly made more difficult by self-loathing.

Lack of love for yourself also makes it easier for you to be taken advantage of. I put myself in a bad situation because it felt nice to be told I was pretty for a change; that I mattered and was special. I realise now that that situation started when that person became closer to me after a night where I talked about how badly I felt about myself. There are people in this world who will seek out people who don't think highly of themselves, and they will work that from every angle until there's nothing left. Because you don't love yourself, it will feel like you deserve maltreatment and it can disguise itself as love. Perhaps this can happen to anyone, but I think it's more difficult to let yourself be constantly treated like dirt if you don't feel like dirt. 

I guess what I'm saying is that life is more complicated than either of those viewpoints and they each have their place. Self-love is incredibly important. I haven't figured out how to do it, but I know that it's important that I learn it. But I also know there there are people who love me through my self-loathing, even when they don't know how. Those people are rare, but they're there. Whether a romantic love can exist through that, I couldn't tell you, but there is love that hopefully one day leads to self-love. 

Listening to: Shields by Grizzly Bear

A Year of Chelseas

"I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me."

A year ago today, I arrived back at the house where I grew up after spending eight months in Florida living with a friend. I had gone because I thought it would be an adventure, because I wanted independence and that was the opportunity that had knocked. I thought I would somehow be able to get a better job, something that wasn't in retail. I pictured myself at Disney World once a month, if not more. 

In reality, Florida did not offer me any of the things I thought I would get. The only "friend" I ever really spent time with was the most toxic influence of my life, which I wouldn't talk about with my roommate for fear she might not like him, so that created distance with her. I ended up in major credit card debt. I couldn't afford those trips to Disney, and I was too depressed to go during Christmas, which was the main thing I had been looking forward to. My desperate attempt to find a job led me to Old Navy, which was underpaid, and eventually, a really awful place to work. I didn't even spend time at the gorgeous beach because it just didn't appeal to me to go alone, except when I'd go in the middle of the night. 

So I ended up back in the place I said I'd never live again: My parents house. I've talked about all this before, I know. Just recapping so I can talk about the past year that I've been home.

I came home a different person than who left. I don't know what it was, but I was a little bit less anxious around people and wasn't that awkward. I guess I was just so grateful to be around people, especially ones who actually respected me. I felt like a failure, and that my family was tip-toeing around me, not sure how to treat the new person whom they didn't really know. But beyond that, I was kind of beyond any major depression.

I got a crappy job at Cotton On, but I didn't really mind too much, since they had promised me I would be promoted as soon as a position opened, which was to be almost immediately. Then VidCon happened. I don't really need to remind anyone what happened there. There was one particular thing I had been running from within that awful, toxic sludge which I could no longer get away from. Until VidCon, I hadn't told anyone about it. I finally accepted what had really happened on a night the previous October, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I still don't know how to deal with it, but I don't really run from it anymore. Once again, a different person emerged from this.

That crappy job turned into an unbearable one. My first promotion took two months. Then I was promised another, which I found out was basically a ploy to keep me around after my boss had poorly treated my best friend who had come to work there. For the first time, I had been really bad at my job. I was crying all the time and constantly stressed about it until I quit. A lot of people told me that we just need to get over it and do jobs we hate. That was hard to hear. Maybe they were right. But I'm a bit too idealistic to accept that I should be working at a job that makes me cry 3 times a week. I felt so worthless and any confidence I had gained previously was completely shaken. Yet again, here was a different Chelsea.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, I went from a person who was absolutely sure of her faith, to one who has no idea what anything is. Not knowing if what you've believed for over two decades is true will change anyone. 

Now, I'm doing the best job I've ever done. It certainly has is frustrations, but I feel so lucky that people pay me to hang out with their children. Whenever I get those "Nobody needs me" kinds of feelings, I can fend them off quickly, because just a couple weeks ago, I was told by the main mom I work for that I was "Making a big difference in their lives". That's not something I can say for any other job I've held, and it's really all I've ever wanted, or what I'm sure most people want. I might be another person. 

Having been at least 5 different versions of myself over the past year, things can be hard. It's hard to hear that people don't really know who I am anymore. It's hard to feel the distance it's created in my relationships. It's hard because I don't feel like I can trust anyone anymore. It's hard because little things make me feel like I'm being taken advantage of. It's hard because I know people expect me to be a certain way and that makes it easy to regress into that. It's hard to feel like everyone looks at me and only sees my lows. It's hard to feel like I'm grasping at things but have nothing to cling to. It's hard to look for jobs everyday because I need more hours. It's hard to live with people I can't be myself around and constantly try to avoid. It's hard to know I probably can't ever live on my own in this area. It's just been a really hard year. Couple of years, really.

Ultimately, however, I think I'm happier than that girl who left for Florida to seek her independence, the girl who thought a city 3000 miles away held her happiness. I have a long, long way to go to be the person I want to be, and live the kind of life I want to live, but I think I'm closer, which is something.

Listening to: "The Sunset Tree" by The Mountain Goats

Guilty Pleasures

One of my possible prompts for today was "What is your guilty pleasure?" Spoiler alert: This blog is not going to contain a guilty pleasure of mine, because I don't have any.

I really, really hate the notion of guilty pleasures and from time to time I like to talk about why it's a dumb notion. Pleasure is defined as "A feeling of happy satisfaction and enjoyment." It's 100% a positive word. Pleasures are just things that make us happy or give us some form of enjoyment.

Personally, I'm not going to let anyone make me feel guilty for something I enjoy. Call me a basic white girl as much as you want, I will enjoy whatever I want. Look, I've brought myself to talking about another notion which I abhor: that humans can be "basic". No. Every single person you meet is vastly complicated, and yeah, some might wear Uggs and leggings (I honestly don't know much about the qualifications for debasement of this kind), but that does not define their existence. 

Where do these notions come from? That we're not supposed to like things that aren't aimed to our demographic, or in the case of being "basic", apparently we're not supposed to like too many things aimed at our demographic? Or to feel like our intelligence is in question because we like a certain thing? These things are so nonsensical. Sure, there are things that are not intelligently written or that are mostly aimed at old ladies, but if you find pleasure in those things, good for you. A lot of things about the world can be not great, so if you find happiness in something, no matter how small or trivial, you shouldn't have to hide it. There should not be guilt associated with things that make us happy, unless you are somehow causing harm to others. If you're hurting other people or enjoying the pain of others, yes, stop enjoying that pleasure ASAP. 

I admit. I make fun of Twilight, Nickelback, The Big Bang Theory, and some other things, but I wouldn't think less of anyone for enjoying these things (though I do have legitimate concerns about messages contained within these things). I'm trying not to make fun of people for differences of taste, because I know I have a tendency to get quite passionate in my opinions, but I truly do think that no one should have to feel guilty for liking what they like. I'm sorry if I've ever done that to people. 

Unabashedly loving is the best thing we do as humans. We shouldn't let other people put limits on what we get to love. We are defined by how we love, not what we love.

Listening to: "When It Was Now" by Atlas Genius

Haikus

Tonight I went to an event at the California Academy of Sciences. I asked what I should write about today, and Chloe said she wants my night in a series of haikus. I don't think I've written a haiku outside of Cards Against Humanity since fifth grade, so we'll see how these how. 

Space Beer

Space beer, oh space beer,

You are the reason I'm here.

You are delicious.

Space Crafts

Table of space crafts,

You are probably quite fun,

But I fear judgement.

Planetarium

I want to look at stars.

Host, you are rad and funny.

Shut up, drunk guy

Cute Guy

Eye contact! Excitement!

You are cute but walking past.

Come back for digits. 

Aquarium

Hello, fish and eels!

You are quite cool and scary.

I feel you, Mr. Eel.

Dancing

What is this music?

I'm doing the Running Man!

DJ, play real songs.

I hope this nonsensical blog was at least a bit fun to read. It was pretty fun to write.

Anxiety

Being super tired (I fell asleep in my jeans this other night) and uninspired has led to me failing BEDA. So I guess I'm doing BSDA (Blog Some Days in April). Of course I would do that right after I talk about why it's important for me to do BEDA. I'm trying not to dwell in my failure and continue doing lots of writing. It's not easy when you feel like there's a bowling ball in your head, but on I press, for today at least. 

I had a conversation with someone who is just recently getting to know me about my anxiety today, so naturally I want to talk about anxiety. I want to preface this by saying that anxiety effects people in different ways, so this may not be the experience of others, but perhaps provide a small look into what it's like for some people, me at least. 

My anxiety levels have been pretty extreme over the last 6-8 months. I get heart palpitations about once or twice a day that last for a couple of hours. They probably last longer and I just get used to them, actually, because I just realised I'm having mild palpitations right now. The thing is, there's no particular trigger right now. It could be that I'm stressed overall about adulthood and not being where I want to be in my life or as a person. Perhaps it's because I just applied for a job. I don't know, and that's a definite frustration for me, feeling really palpably anxious without really knowing why.

The main way I would say that I'm anxious is socially, any time I am interacting with other people. Maybe that's why I feel anxious right now, because posting things on the internet means other people have access to my thoughts. Posting this really personal stuff is not easy for me, but it's easier for me to push through that here on this screen because I don't have to see other people's reactions, though that's actually what eventually stopped me from continuing YouTube. When I get like that over the internet, my anxiety is mostly just heart palpitations and thinking about the same things over and over again. When I get anxious in physical social situations, I just kind of seize up. I get really flushed and feel like my insides are sweating, and coherent thoughts don't really happen, like my mind only has room for anxiety, not actual thoughts. I end up lying about things, completely on accident, about solid facts I definitely know. Questions really get to me, and sometimes they can just be "How are you?" Definitely any questions about my family make me anxious, or anything that feels remotely personal. I say all the time that "Tell me about yourself" is the easiest way to make my mind completely blank.

So back to my conversation today. I was talking to the mom I nanny for. On Saturday, I had mentioned that school had been really hard for me because of anxiety (which I'm honestly proud of myself for even being able to say, though sometimes it's easier for me to talk in a car where I don't have to look directly in someone's eyes). Today, I mentioned that I will be going into San Francisco tomorrow (an infamously anxiety-inducing drive). She asked me who was  going to be driving and I said I was. She said she was really surprised since I had said I have some problems with anxiety. I said that the driving doesn't really bother me too much, that it's mainly social anxiety. She was really surprised to hear that, that she had thought I was really brave for coming to their house to meet them without knowing much of anything about them and she hadn't ever seen the anxiety in me at all. I was so amazed to hear that. That day was one of the most anxious days I've had thus far in 2015. I know that I often make a bad first impression on people, and the pressure of trying to sound like someone these people could trust their child with was a lot to handle, especially because I wanted that job so much in addition to really needing it. I also feel like I get blushy with her because she places a very high value on family, so she asks me about mine a lot. I also tend to get blushy with new people who ask me about anything I feel really strongly about, but don't want to let them know how much I care. To hear that someone I have definitely had those mind-blocking anxiety experiences around hadn't noticed my anxiety, is wonderful. To hear her call me brave is a miracle. I tend not to believe people when they call me brave, because other people tell me I need to stop letting anxiety control me, but it felt so good to hear from a blunt and genuine person. She then related my anxiety to her friend who gets so anxious that he has to leave crowds. Crowds actually very rarely bother me, it's that personal contact that's difficult. Everybody is different.

One of the hardest things to deal with is that I feel like I'm often short with people when my brain stops working. I know sometimes I make people uncomfortable or make them feel like I don't want to talk to them, or maybe they think I don't like them. I hate that, because that's so rarely the case. The last time I had a really bad anxious time at a gathering, I posted something on Facebook about how bad my social anxiety is because I was so uncomfortable with the way I left that situation. Hopefully the main person I had an awkward interaction with saw that, but I've had lots of awkward interactions with her, so she's probably just used to it. It's kind of hard to know that everyone just accepts me as an awkard person, but I guess that's who I am and I have to learn to be okay with that and be confident in who I am, though that's the very thing my anxiety works against.

I just thought I'd talk about this because, you know, I'm that person who likes to write about the topics no one likes to talk about, and I know that social anxiety can be really difficult for some people to comprehend, so perhaps this will help someone somewhere understand a smidgen better.

Hope you all had a lovely day!

Listening to: "Talking Is Hard" by Walk the Moon (No, I did not realise how appropriate that album title is.)

Thoughts of a Dormant Writer

I really need to be in bed but I also need to write this blog, but I have no idea what to write about, so I'm just going to talk about what I've been thinking about.

We're already at day 5 of BEDA, but I haven't really talked about why I'm here, mildly torturing myself to write every day for a month. I guess it's kind of just because writing is a thing that makes me feel...right. I feel good while I'm writing and after I write. I love the feel of the keyboard beneath my fingers, watching the words fill up the page. I love getting thoughts out of my mind and into this digital pensieve. It gives me a sense of accomplishment to put something out into the world that wasn't there before, even if it's not particularly earth-shattering. I hadn't been doing it lately, though. BEDA is really the best way to force myself into it. There's a novel running around in my head, but I know that as soon as I start writing it, I'm going to be terrible to be around. It's going to be about pretty unpleasant subject matter and I get so immersed in my writing that I just know my mind will be immersed in a toxic wasteland. So BEDA's here to force me to be disciplined to write a vast array of things with my dormant writing muscles in the meantime. I always hope this type of thing will turn me into an actually good writer who is consistent in what she does, but I think my hopes are a bit more realistic this time in that I just hope to finish.

I frequently think about never blogging again because I'm all over the place with it and have such a low response rate to it, but maybe it's okay that it's more for me than for anyone else (God knows I spend zero time trying to make it look remotely spiffy like other blogs). Blogging is kind of the most vain thing I do, apart from maybe posting a Chelfie almost every day this year. It can feel so conceited to be like, "These are my thoughts! Take precious time out of your day to listen to them! Please feed my poor ego!" That vanity can be difficult for a Hufflepuff like me.

I was thinking today about why it's important to express ourselves, particularly the bad things. A lot of it is because when we hide things, they have more power over us, but I think it's also really important to realise that a lot of the things we share with others may be things those people have wished they were able to find the words to share with us. Being a person is horrifying, but it's so much better when we know we're not alone in the way we think. I've said these things several times before, but I just feel really strongly that there's something to be said about vocalising pain rather than finding shame in it as we're so often taught to do. Obviously we shouldn't be constantly whining, but attempting to articulate the shadows of our minds can be a beautifully freeing experience.


Hope you all had a happy Easter if you celebrate such things!



Listening to: "Kintsugi" by Death Cab for Cutie