Pretty Much Sucking

Today is not a good day.

I got up and I knew that it was very unlikely I’d be going anywhere today.

My body is heavy and empty. There is not a care left in it.

Stepping outside is like opening a soda bottle after it’s been shaken, hard. You lock the cap up, but the damage has been done. You can see the bubbles building.

Except mine aren’t going down.

Today it feels like anything will make me forget to lock the cap up.

I am high strung, irritated, eating ice cream in my bed without pants on. I skipped both of my classes and have done literally no work for the day.

Today– it took until I got the end of this post to realize it, but–today…

Today I am PMSing.

-HH

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Tomorrow

Commitment is hard. I watched a video today of a speech Inky Johnson gave in which he said, “Commitment is staying true to what you said you were going to do, long after the mood that you have said it in has left.”

And boy do I have problems with that kind of commitment. Specifically, and solely, that commitment to myself.

More and more frequently I’m starting to notice how mean I am to myself. I think of myself in ways I would never do to another person. And flipping the switch on someone like me overnight just doesn’t work. There is no epiphany or life changing moment where I get all my shit together.

Change takes time. 

So I’m going to start small by establishing my commitments Day to Day. Each day will have 4 commitments: 1 for the health of my body, 1 for the health of my brain, 1 for the health of my faith, and 1 for the health of my future.

Maybe one day I’ll have 40 commitments per week. Maybe not.

But for now, all I’ve got to worry about is tomorrow.

-HH

Angry

I’m pretty sure it’s in the first Avengers movie when Beautiful Mark Ruffalo as The Hulk reveals how he deals with his situation: “I’m always angry.”

That’s how I felt today. In retrospect, it’s how I feel pretty much all the time–about things that happened months, even years, ago.

When I pray, I always pray for personal things last. I want to prioritize other people.

Today I want to pray for me.

I am desperate for His guidance in dealing with my anger. Some of the things for which I am angry, I yearn for an explanation. I want to know why they happened, why I’m struggling to let go of them–why He’s putting me through this constant turmoil and frustration.

Being angry is exhausting. I am searching for how to let go.

I am learning that letting go is even more difficult than being angry.

-HH

Thankful

I opened a chocolate muffin packet the other day and the muffin had a pale green, fuzzy substance on a part of it. Enraged and grossed out, I wrapped it up and promptly tossed it in the trash. I opened another one to find the muffin perfectly fresh and just what I needed.

I also found myself, for the first time in a very long time, realizing how lucky I am to be able to throw away a muffin and immediately get a new one. At no point did I even consider eating the muffin (which, also, smelled faintly of plastic), nor had it been a struggle for me to obtain them.

It’s really easy for me to get caught up in the stress of college–because, trust me, there’s a lot of it. I stress about my health and my grades and my career path and pretty much everything I do, honestly. A lot of the times I wonder if college is even worth it.

But finals are over now (thankfully). And I know I passed all my classes. I’m passionate about what I’m learning, and when I go home I have bed(s) and family and food and love. It’s hard to remember to be thankful for those things when they’re the norm in my life. It’s hard to remember to be thankful for the opportunities I’ve been granted with my education.

I’m working on remembering to be thankful for them anyway.

-HH

Icosahelpme

My friend Cameron wrote about the girl she was in high school not too long ago, but I (as usual) was late to the game reading it, and only got to it just now. I really liked Cameron’s post. She talked about her edges being softened as she opened her heart to God. It made me feel good reading it.

There aren’t a lot of things that make me feel good, right now. There are moments, yeah, and days, even, where my edges don’t feel rough and my brain doesn’t feel like it’s going a thousand miles a minute. But I feel like I keep trying to climb my way out of a hole that I’m actually, accidentally, digging for myself, somehow.

So there’s that triangle of balance that’s not actually a triangle, right? Where the expectation is that you only have to balance Social Life, Grades, Sleep–but the reality is that you have to balance Family, Friends, Relationships, Grades, Money, Sleep, Health, General Ability to Feel like a Person. I wish life were as simple as a triangle.

It’s probably something more like an icosahedron.

I keep trying to find a thing that feels like it can create balance. Right now it feels like if one thing is wrong (and something always is) then I’m turned inside out, or sideways, or backwards, or upside down. Nothing feels small. One thing feels…colossal.

I remember this feeling from high school. This burned out, End of World feeling. I remember being stressed about my grades, my future, a boy, friends, family, my body, money. I remember thinking that One Day I was going to be not quite an adult yet, renting a house with like seven of my friends just off campus, going to class, kicking ass, and taking names.

I guess that’s why I need to quit daydreaming because One Day is Now, and it’s definitely Not That.

I’m not saying that Now is bad. I love my Boyfriend (so much, it’s kind of gross). I love my friends (they aren’t plentiful–but what they lack in quantity they make up for in quality). I love my family (I’m going to be an aunt!). I love my classes (which sounds like a lie–but I really, genuinely do). But I still feel like I’m missing something.

It makes me wonder if Jesus is the answer, the way Cam talked about.

And I shit on my Boyfriend about his religion, a lot. So I’m sure when he reads this he’ll expect something harsh or rude or insincere.

Because frankly, religion makes me uncomfortable. The idea that an Omnipotent Being is Judging me is terrifying. Mostly because I’m already pretty busy judging myself. Likewise, I think the rules are dumb. I don’t think any God will love His children any less for not believing in him. What a narcissistic dick, amirite? But, further, I don’t think any God will love His children any less for loving someone of their sex, or for not identifying their Sex with their Gender, or for eating Meat on Fridays during Lent. I don’t think God gives two shits about whether or not you come up to me and talk to me about Him, I really don’t. Because you know what I think God cares about?

I think God cares about how you made me feel when you walked away. Or how you’ve made anyone feel ever.

I don’t think God cares about things we do that don’t actually hurt people. I think God’s got bigger fish to fry, if you will. Like perpetuating Love. Like perpetuating Happiness. Like perpetuating Change. I digress.

My God doesn’t really fit the mold of any religion I know. Every God I’ve heard of has these arbitrary rules. Every God has this Black and White way of looking at things: Did you follow all the rules? Heaven. Did you break any? Hell.

But if God made us, then doesn’t He know we’re not Black and White Creatures? Does one action really define a person?

I hope not. I am not a bad person, by any means. But that doesn’t mean I’ve always done good things, either.

But I don’t think stealing a rubber pencil from the library in elementary school means I can’t kick it with the Big Guy Upstairs. That’s just me, though.

-HH

Being Un-Abnormalized

I always have things I want to talk about–like my experiences with the Tangle Toy I just bought, or the fact that my boyfriend and I almost broke up on Saturday–and then I sit down to write, and something else takes over. So I want to talk about my philosophy class, and the way my professor invalidated and trivialized what I based a large portion of my value on last week.

So I’m taking this Education Philosophy course. It involves a lot of (really awful) dense readings. Last Tuesday my Professor started talking about a bifurcation on Davis’ genealogy–structuralism VS poststructuralism (it’s honestly not even worth explaining what that sentence means, but here’s a link to a description of the book if you’re interested).

She talked about the societal need to ‘normalize’  students. That we give a group of kids a test, and the average score in the room is deemed “normal,” the lower percentage of scores is deemed “at-risk,” and the higher percentage is deemed “advanced.” And then she basically shit on it (it being this classification) for ten minutes.

I wish I had a better way of saying that. Wish I could explain it in intricate, fluffy terms, but that’s what she did. She shit on the only thing that has ever made me feel worth anything my entire life: my intelligence.

I was classified as Gifted when I was eight. My sister was the Dancer, the Nice One, the Pretty One. And those things are all true of her. But I didn’t have those titles. I wasn’t nice. I didn’t dance. I’m not pretty. All I’ve ever had is my brain. So when I was told that my brain really was special, or different, or Worth Something–well, I latched on to it.

So I had a bit of a breakdown, after lecture. Because what she said, in a nut shell, told me that nothing about me was actually Different, or Special, or Worth Something.

I should clarify that I have never been the smartest person in a classroom. My best friend was Valedictorian and is a kind of smart that I can only hope to be. I spent every class for  six years aspiring to be her level of intelligent. So it’s not like my Professor walked into the room and completely crushed my soul.

It was more like she took this thing that I had as an Identifier for the past twelve years and set it on fire.

My sister is still the Nice One. The Pretty One. The Good Cook. The One who Works with Animals.

Now I’m not Gifted. I’m not Worth Something. There aren’t a lot of things I’ve ever wanted people to remember me as–if any, the only ones were Trustworthy, Loyal, Hardworking (oh man, my Hufflepuff is showing), and Intelligent.

So I’ve lost an Identifier. And I know that College is all about Finding Yourself–but this isn’t exactly what I imagined.

-HH

The Jar Post

I don’t like to rank my Top Ten Best Events, but I did this time–because although all the Post-Its were good, these hold different levels of importance.

10. The Beer Pong Tournament – My first ever college party, and I had more fun than I ever thought I could while sober and socializing. It was here that I realized that I really liked people in my fraternity–and that maybe, just maybe, they liked me.

9. The Holy Trinity – I’m not sure where this ridiculous and irrelevant name came from, but during Finals week I religiously hungout with two people in my frat. We started calling ourselves the Holy Trinity ironically, and the name sort of stuck. It’s an unexpected trio, but such a fun one.

8. Wine and Cheese – This is the party that happens the night after new members get inducted into my fraternity. My second ever college party, and I had a ton of fun. It’s also the night I got together with my Boyfriend.

7. Bro Bonding – A trip we do towards the end of every semester–this year was my first one. It was a learning experience, but also really good. Also, I fell down the stairs twice and sprained my ankle.

6. Making Mark Cry – I know it seems like a really awful thing to have, especially so high on the list. But he cried for a good reason. I think if this night had never happened, he wouldn’t be alive anymore.

5. Sushi with Squad – I have a core group of friends from high school I try to meet up with during every major break. Seeing them right before the start of Sophomore year was the best way to end my summer. It’s always nice to remember where I came from, and how far we’re all going to go.

4. Biloxi – Alright, so I realized that there were 4 different Post-Its with Biloxi related events written on them. I live about two hours away from Biloxi, and spent many-a summer night there. It’s my new go-to Runaway and Think place.

3. The Boyfriend – “I’m going to say something,” I told my Best Friend while I drove us back to my house after a night out. “And you might think that I say stuff like this all the time, so maybe it won’t mean anything. But I’m going to say it. And maybe I’m wrong! But I’m going to say it anyway…I think I’m going to marry him.”

2. Brother of the Month – I think if I hadn’t been voted Brother of the Month, I wouldn’t have become so invested in my fraternity. I didn’t realize my presence was valued until I received this privilege, and I’m forever grateful for the recognition.

1. Δ – I got this tattoo in July. A delta. As a means of reminding myself of the importance of change–of its inevitability. To welcome it, to reach for it, to remind myself that I will change every day, that I can change every day. Maybe not the tattoo itself is most important–though I do love it–but rather the moment I learned this lesson is the best thing that happened to me in 2016. Because it was a terrible moment when it happened, and it was a lot of terrible things that happened leading to that moment, but everything after that has been good. Nothing has been worse than what my life was like before that moment. My life started again, after a year and a half being paused, after that moment.

So I’m a few days late, but I’ve still got to say it:

See you never, 2016. You had your good moments (see above) but otherwise, you sucked. I hope your successor is better.

-HH