Dragon Ball Z

Life is kinda hard to figure out sometimes.

I can feel myself gathering strength as we speak. Kinda like in Dragon Ball Z, when they're charging up those little orbs of energy in their hands, right before they release it and obliterate whoever it's pointed at. Yeah. Someday I'll be a super saiyan. Not yet, but soon. I still feel a lot of pain, anger, and frustration over the things that have happened in the last few months. I still get confused at why I feel the things I feel. I still get depressed and anxious. I still smoke away my frustrations and hope they'll evaporate with the ringlets. But, it's getting better.

Recently, I made a list of the things I needed to do. Here it is:

Things I Need to Fix:

Make appointments with:

Therapist

OB/GYN

Dentist

Oral Surgeon

Eye Doctor

Internist

Take care of:

Car Insurance

Safety Check

Tow Fine

Service Car

HECO

Oceanic Cable

Verizon

Medical Bills

Change of Address

Find SD Card and mail 

Set up TV, PS2 and Wii in room

Set up a workout plan

Set up a diet plan

Find another job

Think about school 

So far, so good. I've taken care of some doctors appointments - especially the scary dentist. Not to mention, I've gotta get my wisdom teeth extracted. Buh.

The rest of it kinda requires some funding, so i'll have to work on it slowly. But these are all the things i've let slide over time. Time to clean it up. Time to clean up my life. Time to fix things, for myself. Time to say goodbye to some things. Time to let the struggle sink in. Time to let adversity make me a better person - for myself, and no one else. Call it a good day, a good week, whatever. I'll take it as it is. Tomorrow might be shitty. And the day after that, and the day after that. But it doesn't matter, because today I feel okay. One day at a time.

I also made a list of things I want to do.:

Visit Buddhist Temple

Go to the beach

Go bowling

Go walking

Random photo safari in Waikiki or anywhere

My friend helped me with some of these things. She wants to help me get out of my room, of my house, of my shell. And I want to help myself so I can be a positive influence in her life, too. I want to find out what I want to do for myself, because they genuinely interest me, instead of going along just because other people want me to. These are things I want to do with her, or even alone. I want to embrace my life outside of my head. There's more to me than the things I tell myself. I owe her a big thanks. She's helped me in ways she may not even know.

I've been listening to a lot of dubstep lately, getting lost in the sounds. It's pretty fun. Sometimes you just have to wear your stunner shades at night, smoke, and feel cool. Sometimes that all you can do to just feel a little bit better about yourself. YOLO.

Radio Silence

My life has changed. Some say it's for the better, and some say it's for the worse. Some days it is, and some days it isn't.

It's time to break the radio silence. For the first time in my adult life, I have no ball and chain. I have no one wondering where I am, what i'm doing, and where i'm going. I have no one in the middle of the night.

These times are hard. I have good days - filled with laughter and friends, silly distractions like work and games, boys and drugs. I have bad days too - tears and pain, shadows and aches, loneliness and fear. I have all these things and I don't know what to do with them.

I feel like i've been running away. I'm running away from the thoughts, the memories, the lingering questions. I've been filling my time to the max, sustaining friendships and picking up new relationships as much as I possibly can to keep my demons at bay. I can't do this forever, but this is the only way I know how to get through this time in one piece. If I don't, I think i'd just cease to exist.

The me that once was has been completely obliterated - shattered into a trillion pieces of dust, swirling around in the wind. There is no conceivable way that I can get it all back; Through his actions I am changed forever. I don't think I even want to begin to search for what I was. Either way, the old me is gone, and I don't know who is in my space, yet. One day i'll start trying to see who I really am. But not today, and not tomorrow.

This time period is all about risk taking for me. I have nothing left in my life to preserve and protect. I have nothing. I am nothing. I am everything. I am anything.

So ask me everything. Let's do anything. I don't care. I can't care. I won't care. Do anything but get close to me, because I can't let you in right now. There is just no more room.

Dive

I found myself in the bottom of the age rut.

It's a government-issued-well-lit-with-fluorescent-lights type of room equipped with standard metal desks and matching muted file cabinets. Everything is laid out in perfect order - all you have to do is cross the T's and dot the I's. Simple, mindless... boring.

We go along in our bodies like robots. We are told that our "good girl" days abruptly end at puberty which is the time to start the rebellion. This anti-parental uproar lasts well into our teen years, only to be re-directed at The Man after the age of eighteen. Our second decade of life is supposed to be filled with alcohol, drugs, casual sex with random strangers, sexual experimentation, and late night confessions with girlfriends over fast food. This time is also supposed to be filled with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and built in perseverance to make it through college and or grad school. We are supposed to find our soul mate during this decade and have a predetermined cookie cutter wedding in our families' choice of religion while working on starting pop out kids before the big 3-0.

Once we hit that sudden decade shift, things are supposed to change. Wrinkles form, flesh sags, and backs get sore. We're also supposed to have figured it all out by then - know what we want to spend the rest of our lives doing, be a house owner, maybe pop another kid out. We're expected to live the Great American Dream of having a family life while balancing a social one. The rest of our lives are considered not to be our own, but revolving around our children which become the soul purpose of our lives (generally filled with soccer games, PTA meetings, and incessant whining). We are instilled to think that we must pass down the familial dreams and beliefs that we bestowed upon us.

And yet, here I am, twenty three with a brain-wracking history of mental health issues, self-fulfilling prophecies, and $6.43 in my bank account. While all my former peers are checking off items on those age lists, here I am sitting on a cliff of fear, wonder, and shame. Why do we hold ourselves to these mandated age lists? What is the function of words like "should", "expected" and "supposed to"? Why are there all these unspoken age limit rules about MY life? And more than that, why do these things prey on my gullibility to believe that this is real? Why do I hold MYSELF to these standards?

The alternative life is beyond that aforementioned cliff. It is past the paperwork, and the dim, flickering fluorescent lights. It is past the lines of my peers with indifferent and passive facial expressions, matching their approach to life. It takes unspeakable amounts of courage to plunge into the dark abyss of the future unknown.

So here I go, feebly tossing my fragile human ego into the deep journey downwards. I'm going to learn things along the way - like motivation, confidence, and ultimately self-acceptance. I've taken a trip in the right direction - living a simpler life and coming to terms with that. I am going to be proud of working at a corporate grocery chain, giving helpful customer service while earning minimum wage, even though I hold a flimsy piece of paper saying that I know a bunch of shit about accounting. This is how it starts. And maybe one day I'll be proud I'm not sitting at a government-issued desk, checking off things on an outdated age list. I think I'll just make a new one.

OHHHHHHHMMM

So, in about 64 hours, i'll be on a plane (hopefully in first class) headed to California to spend some time with my aunty. This is kind of a last-vacation-i'll-get-where-i-can-dick-around-and-do-whatever trip before I start my アルバイト (job). Since i've started up watching strange anime again, i've been brushing up on my にほんご(Japanese). すみません、おれがへんです (Don't mind me, i'm weird).

Anyway, next week is also thanksgiving, and my anniversary. I am taking almost two weeks off starting Saturday to really think about the things I cherish most in my life. I have to re-align myself internally to fix things externally. I'm going to be doing a lot of thinking on this trip regardless of what I actually do (stay up late chitter chattering, playing with dogs, ripping my muscles YEAH FISTPUMP).

Also, i'm excited because this time of the year means the mainland gets cold! I can't wait to feel what "cold" is. さむいーくん (Cold-kun)!どうぞよろしくおねがいします(It's nice to meet you, please take care of me)!

What I should be doing:

What I probably will be doing:

In the off chance that you don't read hiragana, the first picture says "OHHHHHM" and the second one says "Zumba! Shall we go? Um... it's cold, isn't it?... It's warm right here... I can't get up" :) The thing next to the dog says "Echo-chan" and the thing next to my hand says "Glove". :3

I probably won't be around for thanksgiving, so... Happy Thanksgiving! :)

LALALALALALA~

So........ since I don't have anything of real substance to write about right now, here is a list of things I should do today to make myself a productive member of society:

1. Laundry. I tend to wait and wait and WAIT until I have absolutely NOTHING to wear. Flip underwear inside out or go commando. Use sports bras and ugly tops and shorts that no longer fit me. Be uncool for a week. Or simply, just not go out. I do all of this before I actually do laundry. I'd like to think that if I had one of those in-unit washer and dryers, i'd do laundry a lot more often. But the laundry machines are only one flight of stairs below me. When I moved here, I thought i'd be doing laundry ALL the time since I didn't have to drive to a laundromat. I was wrong. :)

2. Dishes. I usually try to pass this job off to Michael, which usually works - it's pretty much the only thing I ask him to do around the house (other than earn income, that is). But my sink is now typically overflowing with dishes and we have no utensils to use anymore. Our sink backs up now (we think our landlord may have forgotten to warn us about maybe emptying the trap? It looks like it used to be a disposal system, but there are no blades or switches), which makes doing dishes FAAAAABULOUS. I love the smell of rotting food and soap. Yum. So i've been diligently avoiding the dishes, too.

3. Pay my phone bill. I could call this in, but I do everything online. This would be seemingly easy, but you don't UNDERSTAND. Once I open the internet, my brain goes into ADD overdrive.
"Okay, I have to go to Verizon's web page to pay my bill. Okay. Oh, I should check if they sent me an e-mail first."
*checks e-mail*
"OMG these shoes are hella cute from DSW. I should checkout their website later. AFTER Verizon. Okay."
*log onto Verizon website, accidentally clicks bookmark to imgur*
"LOL that is sooo funny... I should post this on facebook"
*87324987 pages later...*
"What was I doing again? Hmm."
*Logs onto forums, chat chat chat*
"Ah, i'm tired."
*Play with bunny and nap*

4. Go for a walk. I should do it. Buttttttt there is just so much left that I haven't done at home! The aforementioned few, and also a billion bajillion things on the internet. I have to do ALL the things. Also, i'm lazy. And I don't want to go out. I'll have to - i've gotta bring Michael to work. Maybe i'll go for a drive after that. But for now, I'm really stoked I have internet, cereal, and PJs at the same time, and I shall rejoice in my pantsless, milky wonder. :)

Life. Right now.

There have been so many times i've wanted to write something on this blog in the last few months, but I just couldn't find the right words to say. I was afraid of all the possible things people might say ' "She's crazy" or "She's just looking for attention". But I think i've come to the point where i'm ready to whisper all the things that have been inside my brain over the last few months. I guess the question then becomes, are you ready to listen?

I get a lot of mixed responses from people when I tell them I've had an anxiety disorder for about as long as I can remember. It ranges from "What? really? I would have never guessed." to "Ahhh, so THAT'S why you do that!". When I was 11 years old, my life changed forever in ways that I cannot even begin to describe. Long story short, I went to see some doctors that diagnosed me with an anxiety disorder, along with ADD (primarily inattentive type, not hyperactive). The doctor's gave us a report of my assessment in 1999, saying that I was also predisposed to having depression, because I had also previously shown signs of it starting from age 9. However, this is not some sob story about my life. Every single neurotic tendency of mine shaped me into who I am today. I have family and friends that love and support me, so I am forced to take these diagnoses with a grain of salt. If I truly was a terrible person, I would have friends that love me as much as they do. This says something about my character. Despite having irrational fears and a serious lack in self-esteem, people love me for me. Though it's really hard for me to accept that, it's the truth. I am loved and have good reasons to be.

The truth about helping myself is a hard lesson for me. Deep down, underneath logic lives a monster inside of me. That monster whispers things like "You are crazy for seeing a therapist" or "You don't deserve to be happy". But even though it is saying these things, it's like a whisper in some other language that only my heart can understand. I don't know why this monster exists, but I need to accept that it's there for a reason - or at least accept that I created it and let it into my soul to protect me. It's like it was once a blanket - soft and fluffy - that shielded me from the world and it's evil. It was comfort. Over time, I grew up, so that blanket tried to morph itself to grow up like me. It sprouted legs and arms; eyes and ears. And although it remained close to my heart, it didn't actually grow with me, it mutated in me. But underneath the scary eyes and the sharp claws is a seed of ultimate comfort, which is why it's so hard to face and defeat this monster who was once my only friend.

I'll admit, i've judged others for not following the preset path for all people my age. But now i'm starting to understand that maybe it's not so important anymore. I am taking this time in my life for growth and correction. I am seeking help. I am enlisting an army to help me fight this boss-monster in me. I have two choices. Fight or run. But there comes a point when running from myself only results in my untimely death. So, it's fight or die. And there are things that I still want to experience. Marriage, kids (someday), finding a career that I love. Seeing different parts of the world. So I am choosing to fight. My arsenal doesn't consist of guns and manpower, but therapy and medication instead. This is where the judgement comes in. But in the end, ignorance will always be fear and shame covered by ego. I am getting help for myself and my future. What are you doing for yourself by labeling me?

Imagine a life without limitations. Money, fear, obligation, social stigma and ignorance don't matter. What would you do? Aren't you worth taking that chance? It's been a long time since I realized this. I feel like i'm only now coming out of a long sleep, where everything was hazy and nightmarish. I feel like i'm thinking clearly, like I'm normal again. Medication holds an enormous amount of power and risk, but for me it holds a huge payoff. For the first time in over a decade, I feel normal. I feel confident, happy, and balanced. And most of all I don't feel crippling anxiety. I am at the bottom of my little hole. I can only progress upward, slowly grasping one brick at a time, pulling myself up and out, leaving behind shame and guilt for not being perfect to my unachievable standards. There have been so many hands along the way to help me up and even though I don't want to accept those hands for fear of getting them dirty, or pulling them down from the sheer weight, they always surprise me. They can pull, too.

Right Outside My Apartment

4:45 am. I'm rolling over, trying to find a good spot in my bed. My shoulder hurts from being in one position all night. What woke me up? Oh, that quickly approaching siren. Wait a second, it stopped right outside my apartment. I wonder what's going on? Is it someone in my building? I open my eyes, and see blue flashing lights dancing on the walls of my room. I get up, put a shirt on, and open the jealousy on my front door. Wow, there are a lot of cops outside. I count five cop cars and one firetruck. What's going on? I see the firemen and a few cops huddled over something... a body? I can't see, where are my glasses? After some rummaging, I find my glasses and resume my watch. An ambulance has arrived. Should I go down there to get a closer look? That's probably disrespectful. But I open my door and watch from the safety of my balcony anyway. It's right there. That person is lying on the crosswalk right there. I just walked there yesterday. I don't see a damaged car, so I conclude that it was a hit-and-run. Scum of the earth, I think. Hit-and-runners belong with deadbeat parents, drug addicts and the like - too scared to take responsibility. The ground must be wet from the rain. Is the person alive? Is my brain just making up a story that isn't true? Maybe it's just a minor laceration or a concussion. But the person isn't moving. And they're lying down. It must be bad. The two paramedics are next to the person now, opening their bag and moving quickly. It looks like they're doing something that uses movement. Are they doing CPR? It's right outside my apartment. Someone is dying right outside my apartment. If it was yesterday, or tomorrow, i'd be on my way to boot camp. It could have been me. I could have seen it. I could have done something, maybe. I see them lift the person up onto the gurney. They wrap him up in the white sheets, but don't cover his face. I exhale a sigh of relief. So he's not dead. I can't see if he's intubated, or if that person is even a he. They close the ambulance doors. There's a man and a woman (I thought she was a child at first) near the crime scene (which is less than 10 feet away from my car). I don't know if they know the person, or maybe they're just being good samaritans. When the ambulance door closes, they walk away, talking to someone in a car that just drove up across the street. I don't think they know the person, but i'm glad they were there to call help. I wonder what will happen now? The ambulance takes off, and one by one the police cars leave. I wonder what the story was? I walk back inside to the still life of my apartment, shutting the door silently behind me. My bunny is sipping on some water as I head back to bed. It's 5:03 am now, what am I doing awake? I debate whether I'm sleepy enough to rejoin my fiance in bed, or just stay awake. I slip beneath the blanket next to a warm body, still alive, still breathing, and thank my lucky stars that it wasn't us on that wet pavement right outside my apartment.