Birthday Reflection

It's my birthday. Sort of. I have so much homework; I'm not even really sure where to begin. I wanted to take a moment to blog about how fortunate I feel to have such amazing friends. People were so thoughtful this year. People came out to my party that I hadn't seen in a while. A few friends drove long distances to make it out. People brought gifts--and really thoughtful ones at that. Drew got me this amazing 3-d frame. The photo is a landscape of S. Dakota, but in front of the photo is a toy buffalo. The buffalo is a Jesus-like figure in Lakota spirituality. Then, around the frame is a beautiful quote by the peaceful Chief Black Elk.

Tammy got me the second season of 30 Rock, which I am so excited to watch, a wonderful Yoga book, and sweetarts :) Rucha gave me different kinds of tea. Sailor's sister made me an adorable bag--like literally sewed me a cute handbag. It was such a surprise. I couldn't believe it. People bought me food, drinks, and gave me lots of hugs. I felt very loved. And then today, I'm feeling horrible because I just have more work than I can physically do, but Laura paid for me to get a massage from Tammy's sister, Elizabeth. It was just what I needed to help this negative mood I'm in due to school. A friend sent me a card that told me not to stress and, "there is so much more to life than school." I try to remind myself this because my perfectionism is just plain unhealthy with the circumstances I'm working under. It's so unrealistic for me to try and make up all of the work I missed last spring, in addition, to keeping up in my current classes. I'm working hard, though. I'm back to work. Just wanted to take a moment to reflect on how thankful I am--no matter how burnt out I may feel right now.

I'm behind in school from last spring. I'm working incredibly hard to catch up in addition to staying caught up in my current classes. It leaves me running around frantically and often showing up a day late and a dollar short. I'm still trying, though. Hopefully a better blog to come soon.

I'm Back

My cast is off, and I am typing with minimal wrist pain. This makes school and life easier. I intend to start blogging a bit more regularly again. It's been sunny the last couple of days, and I am thankful. This winter has not been as bad as last year, but I am still ready for spring. I was able to skateboard a bit with Jordan when he came up to visit on Thursday. It felt great. I can't wait for my wrist to heal and the snow to melt so I can hit the ramps again.

I'm amazed at the way time is flying. Soon, I will have to start attending classes from last spring to make up my work in there. I'm not looking forward to being that busy again. Monday, I am going to make up my first Spanish exam. I don't feel ready to take it, but I need to start digging into the workload in order to get credit for that class. I keep trying to remind myself that I don't need to get an A in every class. I think I'm even going to have to settle for a couple C's considering I am making up a third of my course work, which I have had to formal teaching for.

I don't like Sundays very much. I sleep late, feel groggy, stress about how much homework I have, try to do homework with a couple trips to the library, and never quite get ahead enough to relax. I'm tired. I'm at the library. I want to go home. I might just do that.

Still...

I still have my cast. It's driving me nuts. I can't wait to get rid of it. I've been told I'm missed in the blogging world, so I will try to say something worth reading. I am feeling stable these days. My therapist says I'm improving, and my psychiatrist isn't changing my meds anymore. He also was seeing me twice a month, and because I am a little more stable, I will only see him once a month.

School has been interesting. It's my first semester since sophomore year that I don't have a creative writing class. I have a Canadian Lit. class. It's all contemporary stuff, so I actually enjoy reading the novels. It is helpful because the class involved a ton of reading. I have a math class, which I haven't had since my freshman year. Lastly, I am in a history class about the middle east. I feel like I'm in high school again because I have regular homework and am studying things I know nothing about. It's a bit refreshing, but I am also still trying to make up work from last Spring. I feel burdened down with those incompletes.

I guess this is my only update for now. I've been making typos--aka adding extra spaces to everything because my thumb is in a cast, which just bumps the space bar every time I try to type. It's been a real pain for typing in my passwords or websites.

Sorry to complain

but being one handed is difficult. I feel like I can't do anything. I won't have a real entry for a while, at this rate. My cast is bulky and sometimes rubs against the incision when I type. Therefore, I don't type like I should. My apologies for not keeping in touch as well as I'd like with everyone. Don't take it personal. Hope this finds you all well.

New Years Resolutions

1. Stay out of the hospital

2. Use healthy coping strategies

3. Be more forgiving of myself

4. Conquer the ramp that broke my arm

5. Lose the ten pounds my meds made me gain

6. Continue to work hard in therapy

7. Finish books I start

8. Finish my poetry portfolio

9. Complete my incompletes

10. Be more assertive, making a conscious effort not to feel guilty about it

Update

I have failed to update as often as I'd like because I had to have emergency surgery on my wrist. I have a cast on and typing is frustrating. Hopefully I'll get better at typing with this cast soon. Hope you all are having a great holiday season!

They Say

The Buddhists say if you're bored, you're boring. I think I believe in that for the most part. I've been restless lately, though, which could be a form of boredom. I sit around doing nothing. I try to write, read, draw, color, and even watch TV but I just get restless and am not amused by any of those things right now. I sleep a lot. I'm tired or restless. Where's the balance? I want to blame the medicine, but I think this is the depression and the meds just aren't working enough. It's frustrating. I'm losing interest in blogging as I write this. Maybe I will just go to bed really early. Who knows?

My Days and Nights

My days and nights pour through me like complaints

and become a story I forgot to tell.

-From Marie Howe's poem Prayer

Awake. Mindful. One day I aspire to live in both of these mindsets. Unfortunately, with my current health, all I can seem to do is settle for getting by. Getting by usually means my days and nights are more like chores than gifts. I love that part of Marie Howe's poem, "Prayer," because that is how life slips by most people. We don't live in the moment. We complain about what we don't have instead of what we do have. I've been feeling really sorry for myself lately. I'm not going to put the actual complaints in writing. I don't want to give them that power. Most of them just involve how much effort it takes me to live and how a lot of other college students don't have to think about everything as much as I do. I also understand many college students have it worse than me. The depression doesn't think like that though.

My life is so different since the hospital. I hear people comparing stress loads, how many credits their taking, how many hours they work, how much homework they have, how many exams, how little sleep, etc... I used to be one of those people. Now, I can't even compete. I used to be jealous of the healthy people, thinking I would one day see some sort of "reward" or pat on the back about how I pushed myself to the limit. I discovered it doesn't work like that. I have a friend who just graduated in 3.5 years. He said he wished he wouldn't have pushed himself so hard so he could have enjoyed his time in school more. Now he doesn't even know what he wants to do.

That was my big epiphany after the hospital--I realized I was rushing and overworking myself. And for what? These were years of my life slipping away from me because I was waiting for some miraculous future that doesn't exist. Life is just as much the struggle to achieve our goals as is the actual achieving and celebrating. Plus, one can only celebrate so long before there needs to be new goals.

I'm going to the doctor about my wrist tomorrow. I fell off my skateboard exactly one month ago. I did have x-rays, and they said it wasn't broken. It's still bothering me quite a bit, so hopefully the doctor can help me in some way. I don't really know what they can do, but me trying to use it as if it is fine is not helping.

I've noticed the thing about blogging more regularly--I have less insightful things to say. Yet, I still try really hard to come up with some sort of purpose for a post. It's my blog. Who says I need a purpose? I will say that blogging is a form of writing, and the writing process usually slips in sentences and paragraphs of value in the middle of my two-cent entries. Insight appears in writing like it does in real life--slipped in between all of the mess, and it is up to the reader to decipher and use what wisdom is helpful to them. Who am I trying to impress, anyway? I have this blog because I like to encourage truth--telling and seeking.

I Don't Always Understand

I don't always understand how things happen the way they do. Sometimes it's simple, and I just can't believe it. Sometimes it's complicated and I don't try to. I don't want to go into much detail, but a couple friends of a friend were not very nice about my hospitalizations. I chose to confront them and offer them the chance to respond or agree to silence. It's rather anti-climatic. We don't talk anymore. It's sad, but I don't wish them bad luck or anything like that. I hope they feel the same about me. I realize blogging about it is rather passive aggressive, but that is not supposed to be my point. It has nothing to do with the actual people. It's just that they have since made things difficult for our mutual friend and stopped talking to her. I like to think it has nothing to do with me, but I can't help but feeling like I caused a ruckus. I'm very new to standing up for myself, so the first time I do it, I have this negative reaction, and I instantly think I did something wrong. I don't understand how I did something wrong. I planned out everything I said in my confrontation. I was respectful. Yet, not only did I make people so angry at me they can't even say hello, but now, they won't even talk to my friend. It makes me sad because it hurts her a lot. The fact that I am blogging about this feels so elementary. It's not that I want to make anyone look bad; it's just that I am beginning to understand how little I understand things. Maybe that is a good thing to realize--to approach the world with humility. Like my favorite Michael Franti song says, "It seems like everywhere I go, the more I see, the less I know."

This world is hard enough. How does stubbornness and pride get in the way of love? We are all so worried about what we look like instead of just being honest. I understand honesty is hard. I just don't understand how there is ever any other option.

I'm Carrying My Spirit

I'm listening to Paula Cole's "Me." It's a great song; I stole the title for this post from it. The whole song is about how she is her worst enemy and yet she is the only one who can save her. It's probably one of the best encouraging songs I know. That song doesn't really have a lot to do with this post, but I needed it to get the words flowing.

Marlee is lying in a ball at my feet. She woke me up at 5:45 this morning, crying because she had left a bone in my bed, which somehow got buried under my blankets. She was crying, digging, and burrowing under my covers. It was so cute that I was only slightly annoyed.

I slept most of yesterday away. I did make it to work out, though, thanks to my dad encouraging me to go with him. That finally woke me up (around 5pm). I hope it's not my medicine that's making me tired like that. I guess, I shall find out today. I haven't taken it yet because I'm not usually up this early. I feel awake now, so if I sleep all day again, I will know it's the meds.

I don't really have a point to this post, after all. I just want to blog a lot more than normal while I am home, have access to good internet, and no school.

Activism

“A lot of people are waiting for Martin Luther King or Mahatma Gandhi to come back -- but they are gone. We are it. It is up to us. It is up to you.”--Marian Wright

I'm back. I went to my doctor today, and he decided to increase my medication slightly in hopes to reduce my depression. I am functioning, but still tired, apathetic, and depressed a lot. We are hoping that this final increase will make a difference. I'm doing better overall, though.

I watched a documentary called "The Cove." It was the first time I felt like a social activist again. It got me really fired up to make positive changes in the world. I was talking to my friend, Dashon, and we were talking about how vulnerable idealists are at our age. We either conform to society, destroy ourselves with chemicals, suicides, or self-doubt, or we fight. By fighting, I mean we stay alive. We believe in the good in humanity. We believe in love--even if we've seen too many examples of the opposite. If we can preserve our idealism, we are the people who can and will work to save the world.

I suppose idealists are "at risk" throughout life, regardless of age. It takes incredible strength, courage, and wisdom to remain idealistic enough to fight for positive changes when surrounded by so much apathy. What does emotional strength, courage, and wisdom mean to me? I use these words often, and I believe in seeking them with everything I have, but rarely to I get the chance to define them. I think we think of all of these extraordinary people, and decide we can't be like them, so we don't even try. Mother Theresa once said, "We can do no great things. Only small things with great love." I might not be another memorable leader in making positive changes in the world, but I will do what I can to leave this world better than I found it.

I was watching some Def Jam Poetry recently, and one of the poets said she believed she was strong for allowing herself to breakdown, crying puddles in her bathroom. She believed strength to mean being strong enough to fail and persevere, strong enough to breakdown, and strong enough to stand alone. Courage relates to this. One of my favorite quotes is something along the lines of, "Courage is doing what we are afraid of. There is no courage without fear." I like that because it acknowledges that being afraid does not make us weak. As for wisdom, I believe it to be the ability to listen, admit our ignorance, and accept gray areas.

I also watched a documentary on a woman who was a secretary for Hitler. She talked about Hitler the man, and it was weird. She talked about him being so proud of his dog, having a lot of digestion problems, not liking to be touched etc... I felt afraid to see the human in Hitler. I am horrified of hate and the result of hate. He was such a hateful person, does it mean I am doing something wrong by thinking of him as human? I can't answer that at this moment, but I believe remembering that the world doesn't function in black and white is helpful, and every day I work to achieve acceptance of such gray areas, which I believe to require wisdom.

I seek wisdom, courage, strength, integrity, and growth. These are the traits I value most. I believe the more I practice such traits, the more positive changes I will be able to make in the world.

NY Times Article on Pine Ridge Gang Issues

I've been to Pine Ridge three times. I've met kids who are greatly impacted by this.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/14/us/14gangs.html?pagewanted=2&_r=2&hp

Just a little bit...

I'm crazy busy. I'm busy. crazy. I am so proud of myself for getting through this past week. With the way I was feeling and all the pressure on me, I was certain I would break down and/or wind up in the hospital again. Exams is this coming week. I'm just going to do my best and not stress so much. I'm exhausted. It's hard to keep trying so hard. When this semester is over, though, I don't even know what I will do. The life of a college student is so unbalanced. Time is passing fast. I'll write more when I have time.

Things I'm Thankful For

* Friends and Family

* All the supportive messages I've received from readers of this blog and/or my article

* The time I spent with my family

* The delicious food

* The small gifts, kind words, pat on back, and hugs I've received since the hospital

* The time I spent with Kristin and her family

* The x-rays that told me my wrist wasn't broke

* Love (loving others and being loved)

* Dreams

* My tattoo

* My will to live

* books

* Marlee and Reba

* heat

* a bed

*a place to live

* music

* poetry

* writing

* writers

* e-mails

* letters

* socks and shoes

* Clothes

* pillows

* my education--even when it feels like it's killing me

*my ability to learn

*my determination to learn

*my skateboard

* my rollerblades

* my ipod

*gym membership

* gum

* Teachers

* Mentors

*Professors

* Classes

* Therapists

* My Doctors

* My teachers who have been so understanding as I am falling behind in school

* OH so many more....

*And seriously, friends and family can't be emphasized enough! I love all of them more than words can say.

It Feels Like Years Since It's Been Clear

I'm tired. Tired of fighting. I told my therapist it's not fair that I try to stop myself from having harmful thoughts, which just results in more pain. I understand healing is hard. I'm not weak, but I'm worn down. This is my life--it's not like I can just take a break from it. That's where sometimes I feel like going to the hospital again is the only way to achieve a break. Being in the hospital validates I'm ill, keeps me from having to be social or impress anyone, and it seems like a legit reason to miss class. My therapist says I have depression that is severe enough to miss class just to stay in bed--or miss class to work out. Missing class for mental health is not the same as missing for physical illness. I shouldn't have to hide out all day and fake sick. I should be doing whatever makes me feel better. I'm thankful for the people who encourage me every day. I try to encourage them back in the same way, but why is it we don't hear anything until it's something negative? I'm working on my ego to avoid that sort of vulnerability.

Waking Up

I wrote this earlier this morning but the internet stopped working when I went to post this:

I'm slowly waking up, both literally and figuratively. My sinuses are giving me problems, which makes waking up a challenge. I'm also seeing things in a new way after such intensive therapy. I don't know that I like the reality checks I'm faced with regularly. I thought I was good at embracing ambiguity and grasping the complexity of a human-being. I could usually find the good in people, no matter how horrible they might seem. Now, I'm beginning to feel intense anger at some of the hateful people from my past. I find myself judging them--borderline hating. I've never hated anyone in my life. Hate is a terrible feeling. Hate only breeds more hate. I hope this is only a small-step in my healing that will allow me to genuinely have compassion for these people one day--that will allow me to be more evolved. To feel sorry that they feel so afraid and hateful, because those are scarring feelings. Right now, I can't look past their arrogance and ignorance that creates and breeds so much hate.

Waking up to realize not everyone is a good person has been a tough thing for me. Realizing everyone I love has complex personalities, and while they might not always genuinely loved me in the altruistic ways I need, doesn't mean they don't love me.

A boy I went to High School with died of alcohol-poisoning yesterday. I was very saddened by it. He was a nice guy and incredibly smart. Feeling so sad about his death, despite not having talked to him in years, made me think about how alone I felt when I was suicidal. I was so sick that I was convinced people would be better off without me, but I did not think about how many people would be affected by it. I now remind myself how many people care, even if they can't express it all the time. Even though, I still sometimes feel like living is too hard, I'm now healthier and awake enough to understand how one life touches thousands.

Adrian junior determined to beat her depression

Here is an article in my school paper about me :)

Adrian junior determined to beat her depression

Ordinary People

I just watched a movie my therapist recommended called "Ordinary People" with Mary Tyler Moore. It was really well done, but messed with my mind a bit. I skipped all of my classes today. I couldn't really get out of bed. Or I guess, I couldn't stay out of bed. I'd get up with good intentions, always ending up back in my bed. I was able to finally get up around 2 and walk to the gym to work out. Working out helped a bit, but then I had a therapy appointment. It was very nice to be validated in all of my negative feelings and congratulated on all of the good stuff I am doing instead of looking at what I'm not doing. I feel unfit to be in school. I am too drained, which leads to apathetic, to have the discipline I need. I'm passing all my classes, though. My therapist says I should be very proud, because under my circumstances, passing is a very challenging thing to strive for.

John Legend has a song called "Ordinary People." It's always been one of my favorites. It has beautiful piano playing, his voice is comforting, and the lyrics are real. I think a lot of my problems, as well as my friends' problems, are that we forget we are all just ordinary people. The world won't stop if we mess up. Failure doesn't kill us, and we will make mistakes and disappoint people in the same ways we are disappointed by them. It's natural. It's really all about honesty and integrity. We hold each other accountable; apologize where it's due; express our expectations of apologies before writing a person off. I have little patience for the fake facades I'm surrounded by. I need people who love me to love all of me--my beliefs, my passions, my actions. I love people for many reasons and to so many different degrees. Why can I allow room for ambiguity in the relationships with people I love, but not expect the same from them? I'm working to figure this all out--taking it one ordinary day at a time.

I Try

I am fighting hard. I'm really proud of that. Unfortunately, I still focus on my lack of progress. I stopped into visit the people at Partial yesterday after my doctor's appointment. They looked really happy to see me and reminded me what progress I have made. They loved my new tattoo, too :)

I'm trying to be optimistic. I have a lot to be thankful for right now. I don't know why I feel depressed. Tonight, I am having trouble getting motivated to clean my room for the Aussie's coming up to visit tomorrow. It will be nice to show everyone where I go to school. The campus really is beautiful in the fall.

I've been feeling very restless and I get angry easily. That is not my personality at all, or maybe it is. My therapist says I abandoned the real me at a pretty young age. It has been refreshing to seek it. I see glimpses of it when I'm skateboarding down hills, climbing trees, and getting positive feedback on my writing. I don't have any more to say about how I feel tonight. I'm trying to deny this negativity by listening to upbeat music. I really just wanna lay in bed. Gotta clean. clean. clean.