About Me

Hey

haha you just read this. GOTCHA BITCH!



omfg you're still reading? gtfo (does anyone still say that or am i that old?).


you're so crazy still reading omggggg


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Anxiety & Depression

A therapist has diagnosed me with anxiety and depression as “mood disorders”, so my experience of these disorders is not serious enough to warrant medication or mild enough to do nothing. Cognitive behavioral therapy has been the most effective treatment to date, but perhaps talk therapy to unpack my past will be beneficial in the future. When I feel anxious, my neck tenses, and I can feel my heart beat like a drum in my chest. When depressed, there is a perpetual weight behind my eyes, not heavy enough to let me sleep and not light enough to let me find interest in things. When I experience both simultaneously, the opposing forces paralyze me. Some factors are built in my very nature. I see some genetic predispositions for anxiety and depression in myself and my family, and thyroid issues sometimes require medical care. Other factors are environmental. Growing up, there was one way to live out my spirituality, one way to live out my sexuality, and one way to be: Roman Catholic....
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Is everything okay man?

The most terrifying question: "Is everything okay?" What would I even say to that? That the wave of uncertainty stemming from my lack of purpose is devouring my soul day by day? Clouding my brain? Draining my motivation? Locking me into a routine of hope and disappointment? I've tried Jesus (the prescription for everything). I talk to him. But I know I'm just having an inner monologue. The "Jesus" I talk to just so happens to be a reflection of myself. When he tells me to "enjoy that Taco Bell," I've brought my shallow image of him to life: a reminder that "the Father and I are one." Someone might say: "But Jesus is completely real, and you have to connect with Bible Jesus rather than the version you've created in your head. Ah, the Bible. Perhaps that's true. But... If I believed he was literally real, as presented in the Bible, would he start speaking to me?  From past experience, he didn't. All quiet on the western...
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The Flight I Almost Ruined

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His head was bald, except for some, what looked like 5 o'clock shadow beard stubble, on one part of his head. Like if you were to look at someone's head from above and divide it into four quadrants, that beard stubble would be covering one of those quadrants. The stubble looked like the rough side of Velcro. And then he had toilet paper wrapped around his head where a headband would normally sit. There was no blood or anything, so I wasn't sure if this was a fashion or religious choice. Like maybe his religion demanded some headwear, but he'd forgotten to put on his religious headwear that morning; and this was his only way of meeting that obligation.  None of that matters to this story. I'm not even sure if this is a story really. All that to say, this man was talking in broken English to a lady across from him. She was mostly dressed normally, all in black, and her English was equally broken. Well not broken. I think in order to speak in broken English, you would ...
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