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| So, I think it is sufficient to say that this week has been unbelievably awful. Certainly not the worst week of college emotionally, but physically and mentally, oh my God, I don't know how I made it through. It's honestly a miracle.
After my slight breakdown on Sunday after an emotionally trying weekend, I awoke on Monday feeling off. I thought it might be because I had been a weeping willow the night before, but as the day wore on, I felt distinctly sick. My body temperature fluctuated oddly and a cough arose that was definitely not there before. But, I was uncannily stressed and busy already, dashing from biology to my car, then driving around with my laptop trying to get Wi-Fi so I could register for my classes as soon as my enrollment appointment opened, and I ended up being unable to sign up for the Human Event class that I wanted and didn't have time to find another one, so...now I'm largely screwed. Anyways, then I picked Taylor up and we went to As You Wish to paint a mug for Andrea's birthday, and it took an inordinately long amount of time so I had to miss my seminar (which is not a big deal but it stresses me out). I don't quite remember how I spent the rest of the day, but I do recall growing steadily sicker and sicker, so that by the time it was nighttime I definitely had a fever, a nasty cough, and a hell of a lot of homework to do. And, unlike high school where you just skip a day or two, not possible in college. Essay due tomorrow? You should have done it a week ago when you weren't sick. So, I sucked it up. Tylenol and tomato soup helped me to focus enough to get some crucial things done on Monday night, and it actually wasn't too terrible because the medication helped me be myself and have fun with people in the lounge while working.
Tuesday was about the same, though there was a definite increase in my cough and fever. Awesome. I worked most of the morning studying and writing, went to class later in the day, took a test, then came back that night and what did I have to do? Human Event paper. That was a rather ugly night as well. Somehow, though, I got through it, and I skipped biology the next morning (also stresses me out) so I could sleep a little extra and work on the paper more. After that, Human Event, then I came back to the dorm and rather than resting, I went to the bookstore to trade in a mislabeled book they had given me (only to discover they were out of the copies of the one I needed--sweet). Then I holed up in the 7th floor lounge and texted furiously with members of my bio lab group while putting together our lab report, while simultaneously attempting to research Gabriel García Márquez and create a presentation entirely in Spanish about him. Stress. Stress. Stress.
In order to unwind, my roommates and I decided we would watch Love Actually to calm the highly stressful and unrewarding week. It was a nice break, but really, in retrospect it was a bad decision because I ended up staying up until 2 AM working on the lab report and my presentation. Oh, yes, and did I mention that the fever somehow disappeared after taking an Advil, but did I get better? Oh no. My sickness evolved into something far worse, in my opinion. Fever, I can do. You know, fatigue, chills, aches, whatever. Give me a Tylenol, a jacket, and some hot food and I'm okay. But last night my plague developed into a nasty ass cold. No sore throat, thank God, but my nose has been a faucet since like 9:00 last night. There is a constant tickle in my nose and when I sneeze I'm pretty sure I would scare that panda mom because it's obnoxious. I took out my trash yesterday, and it's a pretty substantial bin, not a tiny little office bin. Bigger than the one we keep under our sink at home. What does it look like now? Filled to the brim with tissues. I have used so many tissues in the past 24 hours I can't even count. Hundreds, at least. Every two frickin' seconds I will sneeze, or my nose will ooze, or some annoying shit like that, and I'll have to whip out a tissue and blow for the millionth time. Thank God for Vaseline, too, otherwise I'd have been in even more hell. Aaaggghh.
So, I got very little sleep, both my bio homework and my presentation were not fully complete, and I ended up forgetting to set my alarm so I woke up forty minutes later than I intended. Beautiful. Thus the day began rushed, exhausted, sneezing like a banshee, feeling like utter crap, and hungry because I snarfed a Nature Valley bar before my lab so I wouldn't starve. Lab was evil, as usual. Oh, not to mention, I took a Sudafed because I thought, what the hell, I'll take the drowsiness in exchange for it keeping my nose dry. Pssshh, that's funny. What did Sudafed do for me? It made me exceedingly drowsy in a class that already puts me to sleep, and what did it do for my nose? Zilch. I used up all the tissues I brought and had to move on to the lab paper towels halfway through class. Thus what do I say to Sudafed? Fuck you. Harsh words, I know, but really, I don't like you. Anyway, after returning from lab, do I rest? No, I can't, because I have to finish creating my Spanish presentation. So I work work work work work. Lunch (which was actually quite nice because it was delicious and a student was playing the piano in the dining hall masterfully, I can't even express how beautiful it was). Work work work. Rush around. Bike through stressful crowds of people to class. Go to Spanish. Give presentation. Wahoo. Go to English. "Practice" the presentation that I prepared nothing for with a kid whose smart-ass, sarcastic/nasty/arrogant wit is sort of endearing, and sort of hurtful/annoying. Plus he kept calling me a Jew. Yes, I know I have a Jew nose, but I am not Jewish. Nothing against Judaism, but I'm not religious, nor would I be Jewish if I was. So stop calling me a fucking Jew. He ended up getting hit in the arm pretty hard, so hopefully he got the message.
After all of this I sat around blowing my nose, essentially, went to dinner (which was nice), then walked to CIS, sat and blew my nose some more (and sort of listened, while mostly surfing mylifeisaverage.com), then walked to the library, found Inferno, and walked back to the dorm. By this point, I felt like absolute crap, so I took a shower, and now here I am, waiting for the Nyquil to kick in so I can curl up in bed and sleep until 8:00 tomorrow morning. Woo!
Oh, dear God, please just let me feel better in the morning so I can have a good weekend after having such an awful, no-good week.
However, I should probably say that this week was no entirely bad. Sure, I felt like crap and I was stressed constantly, but whether because I was sick or so concentrated on academics, I don't know, I just stopped caring about social things. I stopped having feelings for any guys (that does not signify they will not return full-throttle once I get well, but still, it was nice for now). I stopped caring about what people thought about me. Confidence became a lot easier, mostly because I didn't give a crap about anything but how awful I felt and how much work I had to get done. So I've been enjoying this.
All right, karma. Are you done with me yet? I apologize for all my wrongdoing and hope I have paid for my debts by completing all my difficult homework well and being good all week! And no terrible choices last weekend!
I doubt karma reads this blog. But I thought I'd give it a shot. I have a terrible sense of humor right now. I'm going to bed.
Nighty night!
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| Honest to God, I just need to stop having feelings for people. It only results in hurt in the end. I need to shut off the center of my brain that causes me to have affectionate feelings for members of the opposite sex, because experience has taught me that it will never, ever work out. And whenever I attempt to make it work out, I get hurt in the end. So much hurt. Always.
Oh, yeah, and Human Event rough draft due Wednesday, Human Event final due Saturday night (what. the. hell.), English proposal due Tuesday, Spanish presentation due Thursday, and CIS test on Tuesday. Dammit, I'm stressed.
God, I just have so much anger right now sitting deep inside my gut and it's taking everything in me to hold it in and not let it show and not let it seep into all of my actions and thoughts. But I am so terribly angry at the world and at myself and at my friends and at the way things are going right now, and I wish that I could cool this seething heat that's driving me to madness, but I don't think it's possible.
Why? Why does this keep happening? Why must I endure this time after time? Why am I inadequate? And why, oh why, oh why, do I continually have to question myself on WHY I AM NEVER GOOD ENOUGH?
Damn this weekend. I guess it had to come along eventually. This feeling. We're old pals, and all, but it's been quite a while since we've been so closely acquainted. Very, very bad.
Unfortunately, writing this didn't really help. Time for a shower cry! 'Night.
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| I am so utterly sick to my stomach of the little but meaningful rejections, the broken hearts after broken hearts, the disappointment, the discouragement, and the endless signs that tell me I'm just not good enough.
It is a sadness that just keeps coming back. In different forms, yes, and after different experiences, but they all arise from the same central occurrence, whether small or large. Rejection. It just makes a person feel so insignificant. It indicates that one's worth is below what is required for another person to care. And this weekend I experienced it in so many ways, on so many occasions, and from so many people that thinking about it takes my breath away, fills my ribcage with a physical aching, and brings tears brimming to the surface.
Such a familiar feeling. The only difference is that now I can't just sit and cry my eyes out alone in my room because I have a roommate (though she would be completely understanding, but still...I feel like my heart will break into a million pieces if I have to verbalize all of the emotions of this weekend). So much disappointment and confusion and hurt mingled with the emotions I hate more than anything: bitterness, jealousy, a little bit of anger. Dammit, this just keeps happening and happening, and I don't know how to change it, how to make myself better. And it's this terrible cycle, you know, because I try to fluff up my self-confidence, but then I am smacked with these sorts of weekends, and it gets very difficult to haul yourself up by your bootstraps every single time, especially when this has happened so many times. My self-confidence is taking a massive hit, and it's becoming harder and harder to convince myself that I am pretty and intelligent and worth dating because no one else seems to find these things to be true, so I am forced to question them.
I feel like this is a bad start to an already most certainly stressful week. Shit.
Pain, pain, go away, come again another day....
Maybe I'll go to bed early or something. I just feel like complete crap right now. My emotions are going haywire and I can't control these feelings and I tell myself every time that I'm going to stop hoping, that I'm going to shut off my feelings like a faucet. But I know that that's impossible and I won't do that, nor could I do it if I tried. So I just have to keep telling myself that there are people who love me and care about me and that it's just a matter of me finding the right person to further love and care about me. It's just...difficult to tell myself that after so many experiences to the contrary...is it possible to love me? To be attracted to me past sexuality? I suppose I also tend to surround myself with beautiful, attractive, smart, sociable friends who are superior to me in all those respects, so of course when I spend time with them, they usually win.
Whatever. Night.
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| Yesterday was such a good day. Almost uncanny. I got everything I needed to done, and I had a much-needed, relaxed, intimate conversation with my parents in which I did not get angry or too emotional or sarcastic or anything. I got some things off my chest (though I only told them the surface details--they don't need to know everything, haha) and they were extremely understanding and gave some helpful advice. And I didn't have to pay $120 for it! Woo! Then I got back to the dorm, unpacked my stuff, put on my wonderful new clothes and felt, in essence, happy. And even better, I didn't really have much homework, so Angela, Heidi, and I decided--completely spur-of-the-moment, randomly--to go see an 8:30 showing of Paranormal Activity. We were all thoroughly creeped out, and we got to laugh and spend some quality time together outside of Barrett, which was cool. So the night ended well.
And there was today. Not necessarily a bad day perchance, but certainly not a good one. Tired in the morning after a night of restless dreams. Breakfast alone. Biology alone. Homework alone. Lunch alone (I hate that) 'cause Angela couldn't make it. Excessively boring seminar. Watched boring television and had to push myself more than usual at the gym. Sat around, did some homework. Dinner with Angela, but I didn't feel great. Physically, fine, but my self-confidence is doing one of its dips. I'm going to Eddie's with a few friends later so I thought I'd text you-know-who and ask if he was busy. My favorite--zero response. Okay, cool, whatever. Then when I'm walking back from dinner, trying to appear as confident as I can to hide the fact that I feel like crumbling, who do I see? Him and J.T. walking. 1) Thanks for answering my text. You could have just said you were busy. 2) I just love saying hi to the only two guys on the planet whose dicks I've touched. I mean, they both said hi and stuff, but I have the feeling they both thought it was just as awkward as I did. It just makes me incredibly, numbingly sad....
And then, Angela and I were both looking forward to a good episode of House to soothe the hurts of the day, but it turns out there's not a new episode until next week. Also discovered that Glee isn't until November 4th. Some of my only consolation...absent.
The only upsides today are that someone wrote that they loved our door on our whiteboard (it's covered with the Demotivators that are so utterly negative yet so brilliantly funny) and I'm going to a hookah bar with my best friends in a little while. But all I want to do is cry. Hurray for plastering on a happy face!
Whatever. Tomorrow, I'm going to get a good night's sleep, and I'm going to go shopping for jeans and shirts and shorts and I'm going to get my sexy high-heeled boots from my house so that I can follow my mom's advice and be more physically confident. So I will make tomorrow a good day. Somehow.
Fuck men, though, really. And fuck me. Me and my stupid choices. Me and my idiotic, never think about the future, fucked up choices.
Peace.
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| Well, after a rather awful Friday afternoon, things have gotten better. I got a lot off my chest by talking to Andrea, and I kept myself from wallowing in negative thoughts by keeping busy, and now life seems better.
But I am still in a place that I have never been in before, and it is turning my stomach. I feel like I should just say them outright in order to extract them from the chaos and look at them logically. Rationality should help.
What am I feeling right now, and why?
1) Shame - I set limits for myself sexually, and I went past them. Sober or not, I let myself down. I never, ever want to be considered slutty, or someone who is willing to perform sexual acts on just anyone. And really, I've only fooled around-ish with two guys for whom I had/have genuine feelings. However, the shame is still there.
2) Fear - Oh, God, this is a big one. I'm immobilized by all of my fears. I am afraid that I will never be good enough for someone to have legitimate feelings for me. I am afraid that I will only be a female with a body and not a female with a soul and a personality and the potential to be a romantic companion for at least a few months. I am terrified of what people think of me. I am terrified that they think I am a slut, or that I'm annoying. I am terrified that I have developed a reputation that is a reflection of very few of my actions and does not embody who I am at all. Especially because what I have done is so not me. Hell, before college, I had barely ever held hands with anyone. I'd never been kissed. Now, I told someone I was a virgin, and they nearly didn't believe me. The amalgam of feelings associated with that skepticism is impossible to define. My close friends would say, "Uh, yeah, duh, Sara's a virgin." But the people who know about my exploits are surprised. Agh. I never wanted that. Also, I'm a little afraid of myself. Of what I am capable of doing. I am capable of throwing all of my limits out the window, and I am honestly afraid that I may end up having sex when I am not ready. I don't think so. That's such a huge thing for me, such a massive step, that I think even inebriated I would be able to control that impulse. But still, I'm planning on getting the NuvaRing in case. Plus it will help my skin. So many fears, though...so many. Oh, wait, there's more! More than anything, I am afraid of what Steve thinks of me. David, eh, I don't care a lot. He can think whatever the hell he wants, though I don't want him to be angry with me for keeping him out of his room for a while. And the rest of my dorm can think what they will. But because of the feelings and the respect that I have for Steve, I don't want him to think I am a slut who will readily make out with guys whenever, roommates or not. How do I ensure that? I don't know. Communication, I suppose. But how would I convey that? "Steve, honestly, I'm not a slut, I only hooked up with you because I have feelings for you!" Ok, sure, good move, especially because there's about a 99.9% chance that confessing this will result in rejection #276 for Sara. Again, fear of rejection. And because of the frequency of its occurrence, rejection is a very realistic fear. And in this situation, it's probably merited. Dammit.
3) Jealousy - I am surrounded by people in happy, healthy relationships. Or people in difficult but working relationships. Relationships. I would not mind getting to try one of those out...
4) Sadness - I am sad that my first kiss was with someone who ended up not caring about me at all. I am sad that I have become something I am not. I am sad that I have legitimate feelings for someone and I probably screwed it up by hooking up with him before telling him how I felt. I am sad that I don't feel like I can talk to my parents about any of this. Of course, if I'm ever in real trouble, I'll tell them. But thus far, it's only my reputation, emotional stability, and sexual health at stake, and I can take care of those things by myself. Plus, I barely tell them about my classes, let alone my social life. I think they assume things about my social life, but I haven't told them much directly. I feel a little guilty about that because my brother essentially spilled everything to them in college, but I just don't have that relationship with my parents. My mom is so quick to anger and judgment and the look on her face if I told her I went to third base without a condom (dumbdumbdumbdumb--again, the shame, though I think I got lucky because I'm pretty sure he's clean) would probably send me six feet under. The look on her face if I told her the things I've done in the past 6 months...oh, boy. Her face would probably melt. As would my conscience, my heart, my self-respect, and my peace of mind. Thus, I can't tell her. I would feel better if she had similar skeletons in her closet and told me about them. No one has a squeaky clean past, especially after college. But until I get some confirmation that she's not going to think I am a horrible, untrustworthy, stupid, weak daughter and individual, this is staying locked in my vault.
5) Desire - So many things that I want. I want Andrea to find a wonderful guy for whom she has intense feelings, and I want them to date and have the relationship I know she dreams about but is scared will never happen. I want to find jeans. I want the woman I'm babysitting for to come back home so I can go to bed. I want to experience the feeling of self-validation that occurs when someone I like reciprocates the feelings--just once, I mean, come on. I want to be thinner (shocking). I want to watch Dr. Strangelove. So many things...so many....
I guess I should veer off that topic because it's actually having the opposite effect by making me think about all of the things tumbling around in my head.
On other notes, school is fine. Human event has its ups and downs, I'm afraid for the next paper and our tribunal, but I'll push through as usual. English is one of my easier classes. Writing the essays is tedious but I understand what she wants and can usual chisel out A papers. Biology is cake. Group lab report will be mildly gross but it's based off of an elementary school experiment where we basically counted bubbles in a tube. Spanish is the only class besides Human Event that causes real anxiety, but I'm steadily getting better at it. Writing it and understanding both verbal and written Spanish has become far easier than it was a few months ago, but I need practice speaking it. It doesn't flow naturally out of my mouth as it does in my brain. But I think I can snag an A in that class. CIS is cake as well. Actually, that reminds me that I have homework due for that. Cool. Also, I saw my advisor this week and I feel a lot better about next semester's classes. She essentially assured me that I'm so far ahead with my gen. ed. requirements (thank you, AP and dual enrollment, baby, woo!) that I have immense flexibility with my class choices. But, I think I'm going to add Journalism as a major. I haven't decided yet, but my thinking is...double major in English Literature and Journalism with a minor in Spanish. I think I can pull it off, and it would soothe my fears about practicality, and also give me a wider base of classes. English Lit. is all literature classes. At least journalism requires statistics, sociology, psychology, and economics on top of the gen. ed.'s I'm already taking. That's a decently broad base of classes, which will help in my future career, I think. The Spanish thing is just useful in general, and I love the language.
Well, I'm now back at home after babysitting for a few hours--yay for making money--so it's time to shower and go to bed. I have to return some merchandise, take care of the dog, pack, go back to ASU, do homework, and return to college life.
Peace (if only I had it)
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