Alone in a Crowded Room

Fuck. It's already the end of October. 

That's been the thought that's been swirling through my head all day. It's October 24 (almost 25) and all I've done all month is watch spooky movies. I haven't carved a pumpkin, I haven't gone to a haunted house, I haven't made plans to go out and dress up... and this is my favorite time of year. So what the hell is going on?

My bipolar disorder has taken over. I've basically lost all motivation to do anything other than sit on the couch and watch movies. It means I go to work, I come home, and that's it. I have no desire or feeling the want to do anything else. I haven't photographed, I haven't blogged... things I love have just lost their luster.

Sometimes I don't think people know just how hard it is for me to even get out of bed in the morning because I haven't slept all night. I'm physically and mentally exhausted constantly, but I put on a brave face every morning and get out of bed (usually much later than I need to) to be there for my students.

Moving to a new place is hard. It's scary, you often don't know anyone, and you have to adjust. Add being a bipolar mess who has mood spikes on the daily and also dealing with staying sober... well fuck. It's fucking HARD. And I don't think I've been able to adequately vocalize to anyone just how fucking hard it is.

I constantly feel like I'm on an island. Alone with my thoughts, my feelings, my addiction. I feel alone in a crowded room, always.

But I'm trying. I've joined a rugby team with some incredible women and I love it. (I at least find joy in that...) I'm trying to get connected to other sober people. I'm trying to get back into shooting. I'm trying to blog (as you see here). I. am. trying.

And that's all I can do: take it one day at a time and try to make the day better than the last.

Eventually, this will all get easier. But when will eventually actually come? 

White Privilege

This is a topic I've blogged about before, but with the recent horrific events that happened in Charlottesville, I felt like I needed to speak on this again.

White people... we need to get our shit together. Our friends, colleagues, family, any POC we know (and don't know) cannot hold this burden any longer. We cannot expect them to fight this fight alone. It's no fair. We need to use our privilege for good. 

You might be thinking: "What can I do to help? I'm just one person!" Well, here are a few things you can get started on:

1. LISTEN

   We need to listen to the POC in our lives when they tell us racism is alive and well. Listen to them when they tell you about the everyday racism they endure. Do not downplay how they are feeling or what they have experienced.  It's easy to tune out everything that is going on when you aren't dealing with it firsthand. If you're tired of hearing about it, imagine how tired people are of experiencing it. 

2. SPEAK UP

    If you see/hear something shitty happening, especially coming from friends or family, let them know it isn't okay. For example, if someone tells you a racist joke, tell them you don't get it. Force them to explain why it is funny. Make them feel shitty about their racism. 

3. Go to a protest

    Even though Charlottesville did not happen very long ago, people have already been coming together and organizing protests and marches around the country. Find one happening locally and attend. 

4. Educate yourself

    It is not anyone's job to educate you on what is going on. Read articles, find books, but do not rely on the POC in your life to educate you. It is not their job. 

5. Amplify the voices of POC

   Sometimes you won't have the words to speak up, but a POC does. Share their Facebook status, retweet them, and tell others you know to drink up their perspective. At the minimum, you can do that. It is a statement in itself.

These are just a few of the things you can use your white privilege for and can start doing today.

If any person in my life is okay with what happened in Charlottesville and/or is okay with remaining silent, please see yourself out.

To my friends, family, and colleagues of color: I love you, I hear you, and I am working to relieve you of this burden. <3

Eleven.

Today, I am eleven months sober and all I could think about was how much I wanted a drink.

This isn't uncommon for me, as I am an alcoholic, and I often romanticize the drink. I think of how much more social I was, how much easier it was to make friends, how much I loved to dance and have a good time...

But then I try to remember the bad. The things I've pushed so far out of my mind they're almost impossible to think of again.

I remember the shakes, the sleepless nights, the drinking to cure the hangover, the isolation, the loneliness I felt even when I was in a crowded bar. I think about all of those things and I remind myself one drink isn't worth it. (And one drink is never just one drink with me, no matter how much I wish it could be...)

This is how I try to snap myself out of it. I think of the bad that I don't want to remember and think about how much my life has changed for the better...

I walked out of an incredibly toxic situation, I graduated a Master's program in Student Affairs, and I moved across the fucking country. The girl who went to college five minutes down the road from her family moved about as far as she could think without having to fly.

It's incredible to think how much can change in a person's life in just eleven months.

This journey hasn't been easy, and I'm sure there's even more rough roads ahead, but I have today and that's what matters.

So whatever you're going through, no matter how shitty it may be, just remember to take it one day at a time. You'll get through it, and I'll be here to listen when you need me to.

<3

At Night, Alone.

Do you ever listen to a song and it just resonates with you on an intense level?

What about an entire album?

I've been on my own for about a week and it's been a bit of a struggle. I've lived alone before, but never 3,000+ miles away from almost everyone in my life.

Being in a new place is challenging and doing it while trying to keep your mental health in check is even harder. I've been trying to get acclimated, but it is a slow and steady process. I've been spending my days occupied with work, my evenings cooking and binge watching tv, but my nights are spent wide awake, overthinking as usual.

I was trying to figure out ways to fall asleep without alcohol or melatonin, two things that always worked for me in the past, but I no longer have the option to use them any more, and stumbled across a beautiful album by Mike Posner: At Night, Alone. I'd listened to a few songs from it before (I Took a Pill in Ibiza and In the Arms of a Stranger), but had never heard the true versions without being remixed for the radio.

Let me tell you... the entire album is incredible. It's hauntingly beautiful. I'm not sure it would have the same impact on me if I didn't listen to it at night, alone, but that's how I listen to it for now.

The songs put me in the feels, and they might do the same for you, but I highly recommend giving the album a listen.

If you do, let me know what you think.

Honesty (is the Best Policy)

At a young age, I learned how to lie... and I learned how to do it really well.

From little white lies about my homework, to manipulating people I cared about, to the big lies that hid my addiction from everyone around me.

Since getting sober, I've been working on trying to be a better person. Lying had become second nature to me so it's been a major adjustment trying to be honest when possible.

Before I left good ol' Roslyn, PA, I opened up to someone I cared about.

I spent a lot of time thinking about it as I drove across the country, the Philadelphia skyline fading into the background of my mind. I kept thinking how much it sucked to open myself up like that just to be let down and if it would've been better just to have kept it to myself.

But I couldn't keep thinking that.

At the end of the day, it was so much better to put it all on the line because I would've drove myself nuts thinking about all of the what ifs.

I guess if there is anything to take away, it's this: try to be as honest as possible, even when it hurts a little to do it. You'll thank me later.

Bad Mental Health Day

Yesterday was a bad mental health day for me, but what does that actually mean?

It means waking up on the right side of the bed, only to be met with one thing after another. 

It means struggling to stay awake during the day because your nights are filled with tossing and turning until morning light.

It means neglecting the giant to do list you've had written out for weeks because you can only cross off "get out of bed" lately.

It means being put on medication that helps to stabilize your mood, but can't help you when you've hit a low.

It means having a ton of thoughts and feelings swirling around in your head, but not being able to appropriately express yourself.

It means pulling away from those you care about, fearing your constant state of 'blah' will bring them down.

It means laying in bed all day, sleeping for 12+ hours, and still feeling exhausted.

It means fighting the constant battle of forcing yourself to get up and be productive, when all you want to do is relax.

It means losing all productivity and feeling lazy, even though you are usually the opposite.

It means going from feeling like you're on top of the world to having it all come crashing down on you.

It means having one thing happen that sends you spiraling down until you can't see the light at the end of the tunnel.

But sometimes it doesn't look this way for me. Sometimes it means running around, doing everything to keep myself busy, to the point of exhaustion, all with a smile on my face, but still struggling to sleep at night. 

But that's not how it looks this time.

Mental health is weird, and I'm not sure I'll ever have a good grasp on it. I've just got to keep on, keepin' on the best I can, counting the little wins until I get out of this rut.

Shitty mental health days call for mermaid hair selfies

Timing

Timing is everything and it always seems to be my worst enemy.

I've been trying to tie up a lot of loose ends and get myself together before moving across the country in about a month, but unexpected things keep popping up.

It always happens that way, though, doesn't it? You meet someone (or someone comes back into your life) and the timing just isn't right. How perfect can that person be if the timing isn't perfect, right? (I feel like this is a lame excuse because when is timing ever on anyone's side... If you wait for everything to be perfect, you'll be miserable and waiting forever...)

I guess the best thing to do when opportunities present themselves at the wrong time, is to live in the moment. There's no sense in thinking of the "what ifs" or the "could haves" and "should haves." If everything truly happens for a reason, there's no point in stressing out about it.

Of course, this is all easier said than done, but it is wishful thinking.

At 25 years old, one of the best things I've learned is to just say 'fuck it' and do what you want. Who cares if you're moving across the country in less than a month? If you're enjoying what you're doing (and others involved are aware that you're leaving), than what's the harm in having fun? Just go with the flow and figure it out later. Like I said, there's no point in stressing about it... everything will work itself out in the end.

...Or at least that's what I'll keep telling myself...