Part II: The Solution

It was painfully obvious once I put two and two together.

All this time I've been wondering what to do with my one precious life. All this time I've been wondering how to stand out in a sea of increasing stress and standard trajectories. Finally, I've found my clarity of mind, soul, and body.

As I move into the new year and anticipate starting a new job, I reconsidered my future career paths and realized that I don't have an overwhelming desire to be an administrator or policymaker in the very near future. Though I continue to intend to implement a plan for community schools, I want to approach it by first being a part of the community, in a real and impactful way. While it would be nice to make a six figure salary and wear heavy coats in a leadership position, the more pressing matter is the good, honest, and necessary work of being a teacher. The process of becoming a teacher has already taught me so much and will eventually make me a better policymaker. I know that living the classroom experience will only broaden my understanding of modern education systems in a way that I could not obtain through any of my policy internships or workplaces. Despite my reservations about taking a significant pay cut, the desire to be a highly accomplished person and being a classroom teacher are not mutually exclusive.

I'm finished applying to teaching programs now, and as much as I'm full of hope, I'm also full of apprehension. Though rationally I know I'm well qualified, the imposter syndrome rages in the background amidst pandemic anxiety and financial insecurity. The fear is paralyzing, and for three days, I wasted away, indulging in avoidance mechanisms. When I finally reconciled my fear of the forthcoming unknowns with my confidence in myself, I found the strength to move forward in a powerful way. Cut out the baggage, focus on what's important. Venture boldly, buoyed by a reasonable self assurance. It is still a confusing time (and admittedly, I'm struggling with conveying my ideas through words in this post), but I trust that the fog will lift eventually. In Sacramento, I'm a ship in the harbor. I'm safe here, but I'm not meant to stay here forever. It will always be here for me if I need to come back, but I crave adventure and discovery and constant new experiences. I'm ready to take on the new year. ◊

This is Normal

I have found the paradigm shift I needed to finally feel at ease.

This is normal.

Obviously, from a global perspective, these times aren't normal, but what makes this normal is that all of us are going through the same pandemic experience right now.

This perception that I'm not doing enough work, that I have no friends, that I'm falling behind — this isn't unique. I don't know how I didn't realize it before, but everyone feels this way at some point in their life. Being unemployed for a time while I figure things out in my early twenties is normal. Feeling like I don't have enough friends when I've spent two years here is normal (and for the record, I do have friends! More than I thought I do!). Comparing myself to people two, three, four years older than me and not being in the same place as them in life is normal!

My motto growing up was, "Everything will be okay." I had to believe that I would survive my childhood and eventually be able to take care of myself. It served me well and kept me going until I got to a point where I graduated college, established myself in Sacramento, and, indeed, everything was okay. At that point, I began to grow exceedingly anxious. If everything was going to be okay, then why did I not feel okay? The answer seemed so obvious once I realized it. Everything was okay, but my motto was still that everything will be — at an indeterminate time in the future — okay, which clearly jarred with my reality at the time.

Presently, the world has been turned upside-down and things are not okay again. But excitingly, things do not need to be okay to be normal. It sounds bleak, but truly, the only way to not lose one's mind is to accept that life, in whatever condition it may be, is normal. The alternative is to wonder if perhaps the experience of not-normal is solely a personal phenomenon, in which case one would be insane, or driven insane by wondering. Quite honestly, things have not been okay for a very long time. Yet, accepting that this is normal is the first step to figuring out what to fix so that normal is better. Believing the present is not normal externalizes the circumstances. Accepting the present as normal is accepting one's own experiences to exist within it and have agency in it. ◊

Summer in Review

As you may have guessed from my previous posts, I've spent ten weeks of this summer in Washington, DC. Going to DC came at a good point in my life because I'm stepping into my twenties and learning how to be really independent, without the structure of college to hold me in place. At the same time, doing the Cal-in-the-Capital program gave me the support I needed when I needed it.

As much as I enjoyed it, this summer was also incredibly difficult. However, the challenges also made me learn and grow tremendously. I found myself more confident in my ability to take initiative to make things happen. I've always been fairly independent and capable of managing my own affairs, but this summer really forced me to put those skills into practice. I found myself confronted with many new questions: how do I network? what do you do with your free time? I realized that it is perfectly fine to enjoy doing nothing for a bit, but ultimately it is up to you to take the lead with opportunities. Nobody is going to give you anything until you ask for it.

Speaking of networking, I experienced firsthand the power and necessity of it. My first two weeks at my first internship just didn't feel right, and I'm certain I'd have been miserable all summer if I had stayed. Instead, I took a risk during week three, when that internship was on a break, and started looking for new places through networking. It was simple enough once I got the hang of it: talk to a person, who introduces you to another person, who introduces you to another person...

Somehow, in week four, I started at my dream internship at the National Education Association. The networking had paid off, and had landed me at the perfect opportunity to explore American education policy. Things were still kind of slow and I had no real work for two weeks, but this was an organization that had the potential and connections to introduce me to new things. At this point, it was over halfway through the summer, yet somehow I was still just moving in. I received a new placement in the Center of Communications after I took it upon myself to march down to HR for more assignments and finally receiving some work instead of waiting around for events.

In week six, a wave of loneliness suddenly hit. I was familiar with feeling alone but not lonely, but now I was definitely lonely as well as alone. Now that I was all settled down, with no one to hang out with, I took it upon me to explore the city on my own. Looking at the list of all the places I intended to visit, I was shocked me how few items I had checked off. My first destination: the Library of Congress. Initially, I was almost deterred by the amount of effort required to get a library card, navigate my way around, and figure out what I was going to do there. Though I was physically shaking from social anxiety, I trekked around and (after getting lost a gazillion times) made it to the main reading room. The view was breathtaking, and even though I was still shaking, it was worth it. I felt so privileged to be sitting underneath that resplendent domed ceiling. I meant to do some work in there, but all I wanted to do was to soak in every detail so I'd never forget the feeling of being in that space (what can I say, I'm a sucker for high ceilings). Emboldened, I made it my mission to do all the things I wanted to do that summer, regardless of if anyone else would be doing it with me.

The rest of the summer flew by. I made new friends, explored more of the city being comfortable on my own, and learned so much with the most amazing people at the NEA. I cried on my last day, but at the same time, I was struck by a disgusting sort of homesickness and terror. The unknowns of the upcoming semester loomed in front of me, but I missed California desperately as well. But there was no time to dwell on that as I scurried to pack, and then was whisked across the country at a five hundred miles an hour. There was no time to reflect amidst the frenzy of unpacking.

Tomorrow, the first classes of Fall 2017 semester start. I have some baggage in the form of essays I have left from incomplete classes for Spring, but overall, I'm looking forward to the incredible potential to do good things with good people around me. I feel confident to start on the right foot, mostly because my packages finally came in the mail and I have my shelves and lamp up. My roommate made me realize that this is my last first day of the school year for a very long time (technically, I have another first day next semester, but that doesn't really count), and I'm determined to savor every bit of it. Here's to adventure and friendship and love and joy and identity and everything that could possibly happen in this upcoming year. ◊

#obsessed: Learn To Let Go — Kesha

Kesha's comeback is incredibly meaningful to me as a beacon of hope that one can survive and thrive after being subjected to a relationship that's abusive and controlling. I've been a fan of her music ever since middle school; while her songs were criticized for being empty of meaning, I found them to be fun and catchy anthems about doing what you want. Almost a decade later, I'm once again swept away by her adamance to not let other people define who she is. "Learn To Let Go" is especially poignant in that it is very much in line with my own life experiences, and I'm currently at that stage where I can soon break away and let go of the pain from my past in my relationship with my parents. I'm so inspired by this song and I wish Kesha all the success she deserves with her new music. ◊

I Belong to Myself

I started this post a few weeks ago, quite optimistic and determined to reaffirm the sense of being fiercely independent that I so value by reveling in the fact that I would be ringing in my birthday alone. I had never really celebrated my birthday as a child. My parents wouldn't throw birthday parties for me, saying they were costly or too much hassle. In fact, my mother eventually started saying that I should be celebrating her on my birthday because she gave birth to me. I stopped enjoying my birthday because it was a reminder that I owed my existence to someone else.

I don't owe anyone anything. To acknowledge that fact, I wanted to make my birthday my own holiday dedicated to myself, a celebration of my own existence for my own existence's sake. I wanted to enter my twenties a completely independent person. I wanted to work on self love, learning to appreciate myself, building a perfectly consolidated identity.

But what I've suddenly realized is quite simple — I've already spent twenty years being independent. It's time I break out of my shell and connect with people, difficult as that is for little introvert me. I'm not going to develop an identity in a vacuum, and what is a perfect idea of self anyway? Some people in life aren't meant to stay forever, but hopefully they'll teach me something about myself. It will be painful, and awkward, and I might get hurt if I trust the wrong people, but that's all part of the identity-building.

Maybe someday I'll need to reconnect with my sense of independence again. I have a tendency to overcorrect, so it's possible that I end up placing too much of my identity in my relationships with others, but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. For now, I am confident in my autonomy, and I'm ready to enter a new decade with a new approach to my place in the world. ◊

Perfect Places

With a lot of free time spent in isolation, I've been blogging much more lately than I have all semester. It would be nice if not for all the anxiety gnawing at the back of my head. What for? I'm not sure, but I think it has something to do with the ever present threat of inadequacy.

Can I accept that I don't have it all figured out? Can I accept that I've acknowledged my negativity but it's not something I can fix overnight? Will I ever come to terms with the concept of my mediocrity, that I am, perhaps, not meant to be effervescent?

I can suffer from everything my anxiety throws at me, but at the end of the day, it's still my responsibility to do something about it. I am accountable for taking care of myself. As much as I wish someone can fix things for me, it's not going to happen.

My dissatisfaction with my internship. My frustration at being alone. My uncertainty about my future. These are all things that only I have the power to change. Yes, these are areas of my life that I feel inadequate in, but they do not last forever.

I'm nineteen and I'm on fire — still young and chock full of potential and opportunities and the overwhelming desire to do good things. The last sweet dregs of teenage glory dry up in less than a month: why did I ever waste a second of it feeling helpless? ◊

Letters to Myself

Hello to whatever future version of me reads this. For context so you don't have to do the math, I'm 19 years old and it's a few weeks into summer break. I've just gotten back from a therapist appointment and Target run to pick up some juice and cookies. I'm in a depressive trough again, likely due to anxious anticipation of having to go back to San Jose for a few days. As a result, I'm struggling with simple tasks like packing up my things to move into my new apartment and D.C. for the summer. I learned a new thing at therapy today: I've been so focused on the mental aspect of health that I've been neglecting the physiological portion, or at least it's been relegated to the bottom of my list when it's so much more important. Hence the juice and cookies.

I'm worried. About what, exactly, I'm not too sure, but that's the nature of anxiety. Another thing I learned is that it's good to remind myself that I am safe where I am right now. This is my room, in Berkeley, where I have some degree of control over my life. Ignore the feeling of impending doom about going to San Jose and focus on the upcoming excitement and novelty of D.C. In the meantime, clear that headspace up a bit. The therapist said that when I go back this weekend it's going to take a long time to recover. I'll revert back to the fifteen year old, the eleven year old, the seven year old, who is scared and doesn't know what to do. They did a good job surviving and staying alive, even if the protective mechanisms they developed in depression and dissociation sometimes hinder situations that are out of context. Tell them what they need to hear. I'm ok now and I'll be ok in the future. Write out every horrible thing the parents have done because yes it really happened and no it's not okay. It's ok to be scared, but that doesn't mean there's nothing to be done about it. I don't know if this will make any sense, but it's worth a shot to put it out there.

#obsessed: Green Light — Lorde

Today was an emotionally intense day. I got home after class ended early. My cohabitants have finally washed the dishes in the sink, and I am fueled by caffeine and fast food. The fire alarm started blaring for the third time in a month, and is still going off intermittently; I didn't bother to leave. Classes are kicking my butt, but I'm simultaneously loving life. I'm taking five upper division classes, with essay assignments for all of them. Whereas in lower divs I could coast through with moderate effort, every single assignment now requires substantial, clear, deliberate thought and sharp analysis. This semester is the tipping point — every day a knife edge — honing my ambition and forging my mettle. It is the Glory and Gore, equal parts wordplay and swordplay, as I fight to keep up mentally and physically. At times, I feel as though I've bitten off more than I can chew. But I'm handling it. I have a set schedule, I've established a self care regimen, and I've optimized my time as much as I can, even if I'm not 100% there yet.

Just as I start to feel beat down, after three years, she's has returned — the queen, the goddess, the one and only Lorde. My skin is clear, I am alive again, my motivation is restored. "Green Light" is a triumphant comeback, with an intense, frenetic energy to it. It is exactly what I need right now, given that this entire semester has been quite intense and frenetic. There's a feeling that something has changed, that life is somehow more perilous, more real.

This Mic article references one of Lorde's Facebook posts, where she describes the new album as a step away from "enshrining our teenage glory." It's a completely different tone from the muted depression in Pure Heroine; this single sounds much more mature, a reflection of "her first year of independent adult living." I think it's quite fitting with the timeline of my life, given that she's little more than a year older than me. I, too, am reveling in those last dregs of irreverent teenhood, as I embrace the challenges and joys of my own transition into "independent adult living."

It's a breakup song, singing about "brand new sounds in my mind." Opportunities abound, am I capable enough to seize them? Metaphorically, I'm at a point in life where I'm ready to break up with my doubts, my insecurities, things about who I was that I didn't like. I've done as much as I can to prepare; I'm revved up and ready to go —

"I'm waiting for it, that green light, I want it." ◊

Nothing to Lose and Everything to Gain

New year, new me — and oh what a roller coaster it's been already. Future me is going to look back at this and laugh at why I ever thought it was a big deal, but this has all been very new and a huge push out of my comfort zone. I realize this is the epitome of #vagueposting but let's keep it that way. There are some things I won't talk about even on my own blog.

As fun as winter break was, it's time to get back into the swing of things. For the most part I've achieved the things I set out to do, but again, things like driver's ed and starting a journal fell by the wayside. It's all too easy to over-promise and under-deliver, a pattern I fall into more often than I'd like to admit. But the promise of achievement and perfection is too tempting to not mull over. I don't think I've ever been presented with such a favorable confluence of events that realistically put my goals and desires within my reach in all aspects of my life including scheduling, friends, jobs, and living factors.

There is so much potential this semester, but the flip side is the undesirable possibility of failing to meet that potential. I have a lot of anxieties about things not playing out as perfectly as they could be. My schedule is only to be as good as it could be if I actually get into the classes I want, which is no guarantee. Between keeping up with friends and applying for internships and getting a job and self care and self improvement there are a lot of things that I need to balance and devote attention towards.

Above all of that there's the thought of setting my life up. I'm turning 20 this year and soon it's really going to be real and I'm actually going to be self reliant for everything. It's exciting but also there's a lot of boring busywork that comes with it. I need to be prepared for that and have all my legal business in order (like finally getting a state ID) but that stuff takes time to process. They aren't necessarily difficult things, just things that take time to do. It is so difficult to get myself to go out and take care of those things that running the simplest errands makes me feel powerful even though it's probably normal for most people to do. But to me it is terrifying, and going to the financial aid office, mailing packages, and paying my credit card bill makes me feel like a responsible adult who is capable of taking care of her life. Accomplishment is addicting, whether it's the big victories or just the little ones.

Beyond these things that I have to do, I need to make time for the things I want to do. I want more out of my experience and my time in college. There are so many things I want that I don't know where to begin, and so I haven't begun, whether that's defining my sense of style or getting to know people. Again, that's why my goal this year is "Defining Direction" — to push myself to do things to get what I want. Time to stop talking about what I want to be doing and just do it instead. Too long I've been stuck wanting to get to a better place, but too scared to even take the first step. If the start of this year is a sign at all, being pushed out of my comfort zone has allowed me to consider a number of newfound possibilities. As a friend has been telling me, "The more you do, the more you can do."

I don't want to jinx it and end up over-promising and under-delivering again, but despite my anxieties, I'm confident and hopeful that Spring 2017 is going to be a great semester. Even if things don't work out with my schedule, I will have the time and motivation to do what I want, or I'll focus on making the time. There is a lot of uncertainty but there is also more opportunity and ability to pursue my goals than I've ever had before. I'm afraid that I could live the same year 75 times and call it a life, but 2017 has the potential for things to start being different — the year of nothing to lose and everything to gain. ◊

Upended

I woke up at 7am today; didn't get out of bed until noon. Archery is cancelled for the weekend so I'm probably not going to leave the apartment for the next three days. Thanksgiving has never been a holiday I've particularly enjoyed, and this year seems to be no different. It doesn't look like I'll get much rest either, as I've been assigned homework and problem sets for every class. I had planned to work on scholarship applications today, but seeing an email saying that I had not been selected as a finalist for a scholarship I had applied for earlier this semester was incredibly discouraging. It's been a long time since I haven't received something that I want, and I don't mean that in a self-serving way. I'd like to believe that I am good enough for the goals I strive for, so rejection like this is devastating. Still, I take it as a reminder to not be complacent about my achievements. There's still a long journey ahead to become who I want to be — achieving identity.

But again, I find myself struggling with the questions, "Who am I," and "What do I want?" Since the election, I've had to reconsider my entire five-year forecast. I've had the rug pulled out from under me. As a person built on spreadsheets, notepads that say "Keep Calm and Organize" and "Accomplish" — I feel so lost. For the first time in my life I don't have a plan. I find myself having a crisis about everything from what I want to do next semester to what I want to eat for dinner. I can't fix things because I'm not entirely sure what's wrong. I just want to know.

Thomas Sanders does an excellent job of putting exactly what I'm thinking into words:



I suppose this is as good a time as any to reevaluate my understanding of the concept of identity.

I tend to identify myself based on what I do, thus, the derailment of my career plans as a catalyst for an identity crisis. My participation in the extracurriculars I have chosen has also come under self scrutiny. I like to think that I do things that fulfill me as a person, not things that look good on a resume. In CREATE, I am an artist and a teacher; this I am satisfied with. In BPR, I find that I enjoy writing and editing, yet my frustration with communication and community also comes to light.

With archery, I had the most difficult time deciding if it was an interest worth pursing to me. At one point, I was wondering if accepting my mediocrity in archery was the death of a dream. Had I given up on myself? I've talked before about the all or nothing attitude, and I still find that I have difficulty letting go of that mentality. With archery, it's obvious to me that I won't be the best at it and it was silly to think that I was ever worried about that. If I have the time to continue archery throughout the next few semesters, I want to keep it as my zen self improvement project. I don't have to be the best at something for it to have value in my life.

Ultimately, there are certain things that I've found to be fairly consistent about myself throughout my life. I like to organize, plan, strive for perfection in what I do and who I am as a person. As I'm typing this, I'm trying to correct my posture. I am an introvert, independent, introspective, as clearly expressed through this blog as a constant tool of self improvement and self reflection. I am ambitious and resilient, and I will continue to fight for what I want.

For once, questioning my identity has led to a greater sense of self than I started with. I wish I had saved the first draft of this post to have a keepsake of how lost and conflicted I was about my identity a week ago. Everything felt like it had been upended and impossible to put back together, but like cleaning out my tote bag, I've found that I really have the essentials down and I only need to clear out a few annoying gum wrappers. I may struggle with my identity again, but right now, I am satisfied with who I am. I look around me and see sunshiney windows and sunshiney walls. I know I'll be okay, it's just a matter of how I'm getting there. ◊

Satisfaction

All the good // comes in waves.

I'm riding a high wave from the weekend. I used dread people asking me how my weekend was because I would often only have negative things to share. Today was the opposite: I was so eager to tell someone about what a wonderful weekend I had that I asked numerous people how their weekend was in the hope that the question would be reciprocated. Sadly, it was not, but at least I have my blog to spill everything in. To recap:

FRIDAY — Archery: Practice wasn't particularly great, but I was told to blame it on the bow I was using. It was really discouraging to miss the target so much, but I stuck around and braved the 8pm cold (yes, I'm that Californian) to go to dinner with the team. It sounds ridiculous, but I'm pretty sure I almost fainted because it was so cold. Once we got to Cancun, a Mexican restaurant on Shattuck and Oxford, I was pretty nauseous, so I had to spend a few minutes running my hands under hot water, and after that it was okay. One thing I love about the team dinner arrangement is that it's always a new place every week, so I get to explore Berkeley without going alone. It was also a great opportunity to bond with the senior members of the team, who told outrageous but true (?) stories of previous leadership teams and the messes resulting from their lack of leadership and organization.

SATURDAY — Shopping at Bay Street with Anisha: It had been a while since either she or I had an opportunity dedicated to getting away from work and just doing something fun. All that built up stress merited a shopping spree (retail therapy is real). I bought two pairs of yoga pants that I'm obsessed with. One is grey with pockets and the other is black with mesh paneling, both designs that I've wanted for a while. I didn't buy the Tarte palette I really wanted at Sephora but I did finally build up the courage to ask for a sample of a lemon face peel. I also picked up a face mask from Lush, something I've been needing for weeks, as well as their new catalog and a lotion sample, all good stuff. At Aerie, Anisha and I split an underwear deal because neither of us need seven pairs of underwear right now, but three or four is just enough and we're friends like that. All of this was within budget, plus relaxing and getting items I needed made the trip a triple win. The rest of the afternoon was back to work, but I got a lot of things done and it was very productive. I apologize for my lack of modeling skills below.

SUNDAY — Archery (again): I woke up not feeling particularly excited for ASCENT after the disappointing Friday practice. On top of that, the skies were dismally grey, but on the field the weather was good—not windy, not cold, even though it was cloudy. After shooting a few ends, I started feeling excited about archery again. I finished my scoring round with a 163 (the gold medal score at the Cal-Stanford tournament last year was a 170 out of 300). We also learned how to run team rounds, which went wonderfully. Our last end, my team shot a 47 out of 60, which is crazy good, especially for beginners. I wish I had gotten a picture, but I had Snapchatted it and forgot to save it.

Afterwards I went to Trader Joe's and bought groceries, which is still really exciting because I got all the basics that I needed, like bananas and avocados (side note, all of the avocados were either really mushy or really hard, but I managed to get one that was perfect and that made me very happy), plus some extras like their mini peanut butter cups, which are absolutely heavenly, as well as some limited edition mint chocolate stars with cute packaging. The total was only about $20 which is amazing for any grocery run, not just Trader Joe's. Getting what I needed, at Trader Joe's, and it wasn't expensive? Another triple win in my book. To wrap the weekend up, after finishing up some work, I painted my nails a pure sky blue and treated myself to a spa night with the Sephora sample and the Lush mask. It was bliss.

MONDAY— The day after Daylight Savings Time ended: I woke up before my alarm, which was weird. It took me some time to adjust to that idea of being awake so early, so I didn't get as much done in the morning as I had hoped, but that was okay because it was all extra stuff anyway. The rest of the morning went well as I was early to class and the lecture was interesting material. I also received my policy memo back, and surprisingly, I got an A on it! More good news followed as I did my notes between classes. I received an email that I was accepted into Cal-In-The-Capital, the summer program I had applied to! I was on cloud nine as I went to my last lecture, which passed by in a blink. After getting home, throwing some chicken nuggets into the toaster oven, and sitting down to write this post, I'm feeling so good. It's a sharp contrast from last week when I was feeling horrible, but it goes to show that the low does not last forever. Unfortunately, neither does the high, but it's important to enjoy it when it's happening and drink in the good vibes.

CONCLUSIONS: I used to believe that if I wasn't happy, then there was something wrong with me. It's easy to want "happy." It's a good feeling, and it's a good idea to sell — vague and eternally unattainable. If you pursue happiness, you will live a life that is miserable, because no one can be happy all the time. It's a concept best illustrated by the Oatmeal in this post on how to be perfectly unhappy, which first opened me up to this idea on how chasing happiness shouldn't be a goal, because happiness isn't a constant state.

I've evolved to the belief that humans crave satisfaction, whether that is in work or play. Shooting archery and hitting 10's feels good even if most of the time I get frustrated when I miss. Writing blog posts, getting those thoughts out, and formatting it into a pristine final product is worth the effort and time it takes to work with an awful draft. That feeling of satisfaction is why I'll feverishly stay up until 4am to tweak the code on my blog so it looks just right. It's why celebrities self destruct, chasing the satisfaction of the high.

Still, it's tempting to want to be happy in college, thinking about a future career, something that pays but is still fulfilling. You see this more with career artists and musicians who advocate for people to pursue their dreams and do what they love. It just happens that what I'm interested in, education policy, is more of a traditional job. Call me a crazy workaholic, but finishing a page of notes is so goddamn satisfying that sometimes I don't want to stop working at 1 AM. I'm not necessarily happy when I'm doing it, but the feeling of fulfillment afterwards is so satisfying that it leads to a feeling like happiness, if only for a while. I love the material that I'm learning in college and I'm lucky enough to have that option of doing what I love.

Now, I find myself working hard and playing hard, chasing satisfaction, which I define as getting what I want as a result of the effort I put in, and finding that happiness comes as byproduct. I'm more content with my life in general knowing that there's nothing wrong with not being happy. The struggle and frustration is part of the reason it's worth it if you are satisfied with the result.

I sit here eating stars. ◊


music creds: ww <3

Sad Music (Tweedle-dee-dee)

The above image is from Hyperbole and a Half: Adventures in Depression.

You can't talk about mental health without talking about...

Depression!!

It's like the panda of conservation for mental illnesses. There are so many worthwhile, pressing topics in mental health, but for some reason depression always happens to be the default. Maybe it's easiest to talk about because "everyone has felt sadness," or maybe it's prevalent enough that people can relate ("I had an aunt who had depression, but she did yoga and it went away").

Anyhow, as a person who has had the experience of dealing with recurring depression, there's not much to say about it anymore. I still haven't wrapped my head around everything there is to understand about it, but if I had, I probably would have won some psychiatry award by now. Lately, I've wanted to synthesize some of the thoughts I've had regarding depression and sadness in society that may be applicable to life in general. This is by no means a complete conclusion, but maybe it can help. Then again, I've been told I'm pretentious, so read at your own risk.

1) On Grieving:
There's often a stigma against being sad. "Toughen up" and "Don't cry" are common sayings, while encouragement to cry is almost nonexistent. It's important to let people be sad. It is not only a part of the grieving process, but also of the healing process. If sad feelings are repressed, they don't go away. They fester and manifest again in worse ways — violence, fear, anxiety.

Unfortunately, society likes "chill" people because they're easy to deal with. You have your own problems so why get involved with someone who is always dealing with more problems or celebrating things they're better at than you? As a result, people tend to shy away from negative emotion, doing whatever they can to try to appear happy. For some people this manifests itself in destructive tendencies like partying, rash life decisions, and complete abandon of responsibility. It seems like that's the bulk of the stigma against depression: you can't be sad because your problems make me sad and I don't want to be sad.

2) On Healing:
That has never been sufficient for me. Those temporary distractions don't last long, and the sadness doesn't go away. One thing I fixated on when I had depression is that I want to feel the full spectrum of human emotion. I can't pretend to always be happy when my life is dull. To understand the highest of highs, it's necessary to understand the lowest of lows.

When I have the capacity to, I try to solve a problem at its root. The first step to solving a problem is recognizing there is one. If you push the sadness away, it's never going to be fully gone. But if you confront it head on, let it beat you down, and recover, then you will know how to beat it back.

With depression, I felt like it was burning me away from the inside out. When it was done, I found myself with no sense of identity. It's a terribly isolating experience to find that you don't know who you are. But after the identity crisis, I was in a place where I could reevaluate and build again.

There was a Hemingway quote I saw on Tumblr not too long ago that said, “Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.” I think that's an admirable goal. Too often I have found myself drifting through life day by day and not remembering any of it. Depression stole that part of my life from me, so now when I am able to, I strive to live to my fullest capacity. I have a long way to go, and maybe I'll never reach it, but the best I can do is try. ◊

Clinton Global Initiative University 2016

Being a Berkeley student means a boundless number of events on campus and venues to meet world leaders. This weekend, I volunteered for CGI University and attended a plenary where Bill Clinton spoke. He also held a discussion with several innovators, including the founder of MuslimGirl.net, the co-founder of Pinterest, and the founder of Khan Academy. On Saturday and Sunday, as a volunteer with CREATE, our work was to sketch murals for a local elementary school and then lead a team to paint the murals. Despite the narrow time frame, we finished all of the murals, but I didn't have enough time to take pictures. I'm still exhausted from all the work we did, but it was an amazing opportunity to be a part of a greater cause. ◊

Humans of New York, Next Door, and Far, Far Away

“My father is an Egyptian immigrant, and all he ever cared about was our education. He used to print out these huge...
Posted by Humans of New York on Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Humans of New York has always been one of my favorite Facebook pages, and at the moment, probably the only reason that I'm still on Facebook. To some posts I react with tears of laughter, and with others I react with tears of sadness, but never before have I related to a post on such an intimate personal level. I commented, "I don't know if any people that know me will see this comment, but this story is near identical to mine, from the math problems to the punishments to hospital visit to the exact same question, "Do you have any idea how much your hospital bill cost?" To the person in this picture, stay strong, there are people out there who do care about you and it gets better I promise. Live your life for you and someday you will be in a place where you are content with life and not in fear of it. I wish you the best."

It was scary to read this because I have metaphorically/literally been in that person's shoes, as the picture shows, and it knocked the wind out of me. The rest of the day I couldn't focus, and work was unproductive, but it made me so glad to realize that I am no longer in that position where I was made to feel utterly worthless and hopeless. I have the most wonderful friends, a strong support system, and unlimited potential in the future. It saddens me that so many other people have gone through the experience I have; no one should have to feel that way. Yet from California to New York, and many other places I assume, this is happening. I don't know how to solve this problem, and obviously it's not something that a single person can solve, but if you or anyone you know is in this type of situation, feel free to reach out to me. I'm always here with an open ear and I'll do what I can to help. Please remember you are loved and you are stronger than the environment around you. Every situation is impermanent, and it's going to get better eventually, I promise. ◊

An Open Letter to My Abusers

I've got nothing better to do right now but sit here and listen.

I listen to my music, preaching power, independence, and self love. It helps a little to drown out the sounds of my little sister's constant singing, my little brother's screams, your yelling, the hard thwack of a stick hitting a body. That body used to be me, but I'm untouchable now. I'm going to Berkeley. I'm that perfect child you always wanted, at least on the outside. What you don't know is that I'm going to use you. I'm going to take what I need and leave you forever once I have it, because I deserve better than the bruises and beatings and belittling and breakdowns that you have given me the last decade and a half. You took my childhood. Be glad it's only your money I'm taking. The money you should have spent to raise me anyway. I didn't ask to be born. I owe you nothing.

It's not a pleasant reality. I'm still learning to accept that too. I suppose I'm lucky that it wasn't "that bad," that I never had broken bones or burns, but you know what? Should I be grateful that I'm not dead? Abuse is abuse, no matter the severity. And now, I'm absolutely sure I'm not conflating abuse with discipline. Yelling to discipline should be a rare event. Yelling is your default tone. It goes on for hours at a time, every single day, adding up to weeks, months, years. This is abuse. If depression is an inflammation of the brain, this is the cause. A piece of sandpaper can polish a cord of wood, but keep filing away at it long enough and that cord of wood is destroyed, broken in two, even. I know this is what you want. You want to break me. You want me to be the idealized image of yourself. You're narcissistic and toxic at the very least, but no, let's call it for what it is. You are abusive. But I'm leaving now, so it falls upon my siblings.

It is strange hearing it from a third person point of view now. Your logic is ludicrous, your tone is hostile, and I can't believe I ever believed that it was truly my fault. You think you're just trying to act on good intentions and be a parent, but don't you see the damage you're causing? How can you possibly think that what you're doing is right? Your good intentions mean absolutely nothing. You're trying to heat a house by burning it down. It does not matter why – your convoluted, twisted reasons – because the fact of the matter is that it's not working. It's damaging and hurtful, but it's impossible to reason with you. What can I do? You're the broken one, but you don't want to be fixed, and you won't bend to reason. Nothing I say can change your mind, make you see the reality of the consequences of your actions. It's easier for you to inflict your own pain on others. And since there's nothing I can do, I sit here in silence, hoping that my sister can find support at school, and that my brother won't turn out to be violent like you are. I fear the worst, and I hate myself for being helpless.

Forgiveness has no part in this. I forgive people who ask for forgiveness. I don't owe any to you so I can feel better about myself. I will never forgive and I will never forget, lest I fall back into the trap of an abusive relationship in the future. Maybe it's good that I've learned sooner rather than later that even people who are supposed to be providers can cause pain, and just because they're nice sometimes does not excuse the times they are not. I carry with me my reflexes, my anxiety, my depressive defense mechanisms, because in this environment, they're the only things that can protect me. I still don't know what love is. I don't think I've ever felt it, and as a result, I don't think I've developed the ability to love others either. Does this make me a bad person, I do not know, but I do know that it's keeping me alive. Maybe someday, I can trust a person fully without any fear, but for now, every friendship feels strained, every little moment goes into my calculation of how much I can rely on someone, every little accident has the potential to become a deep seated grudge.

Someday, you'll die alone, and whether you carry your denial to the very end or realize the consequences of your mistakes, it won't matter. I'm done with this and you'll never see me again. No matter what happens in my life, I won't come running back to you. I'd rather die. ◊

When Good Things Happen

This post was meant for yesterday but, as you will read, I fell asleep and now it's 2am as I am editing this.

Today was a good day. A lot of people on Tumblr have also been saying it's a good day, so I'm happy for all of us that have enjoyed today, because sometimes you really just have to stop and appreciate the good days in life. For me, it's also been quite busy, but collectively the high points far outweigh the stress.

The first point was in Stats class. We were separated into groups to go over the answers of the multiple choice section of the final exam, using each others' answers to figure out the correct answers for the ones we got wrong. At one point there was a question that none of us got right, and since there was no answer key, there was apparently no way to figure out the right answer, until I remembered the process of elimination. We each had a different wrong answer and by eliminating all of those, we found "A" to be the correct answer. It was the tiniest accomplishment but I was ecstatic.

Secondly, I bring Starbucks Via packets to sometimes make coffee for myself during brunch and I add creamer that Mrs. Rapoport generously provides. On Thursday she was running out, and I had a huge bottle of it at home, so we agreed that I might as well bring it to use exclusively at school (I don't wake up early enough in the morning to make coffee and drink it). We were all insanely stressed and sleep deprived over AP Art portfolios so coffee was a must, but since Mrs. Rap had no creamer, she wasn't able to have coffee that morning. When I pulled out the bottle of creamer, she said it made her day, which made me so happy to hear, because I do love it when I am able to help people. It just goes to show that something that doesn't mean much to you might mean the world to someone else, and it doesn't cost much to make the world a better place, a little at a time.

Going off of the previous one, we all did end up submitting the AP Art portfolio on time. It's a huge load off of my chest, because it's the only AP test that I actually have to fully complete to get credit. For the upcoming tests (bio and stats) next week, all I have to do is show up, and even if I don't answer some of the questions, I can still get a good score. I'm not too worried about those because I don't think Berkeley takes full credit for all of them, so this weekend, I'll study a bit, but mostly relax and catch up on sleep.

On a side note, the art show was today and it was a huge success. I helped a little, but it was mostly the art TAs that set it up while the rest of us were doing our AP portfolios. It was pretty late in the evening, so everyone was starving; Diana and I went on a Costco run to order everyone food. I actually almost paid in exact change, but mistakenly used a 8.25% tax rate instead of an 8.75% tax rate, so I was short two cents. As a perfectionist, that was quite irritating, but now I know, and I will get it right the next time. On the plus side, they did accidentally give me an extra drink, so Diana was also able to have juice. We've frequently been getting free stuff when we go out for food together, so that is a trend that I have no problem with.

When I got home, I was so exhausted I started falling asleep as I was scrolling through Tumblr, so I said, "I can't do this anymore," and just closed my computer, pulled up my blanket, and slept like a rock. I had a really weird dream that I was still at the art show with Diana and we were comparing a whole bunch of art, and even though I kept drinking out of my water bottle, my mouth still felt really dehydrated, until I woke up and realized it was only a dream. Unable to find my glasses, I stumbled around the kitchen, trying to find a glass and the water pitcher. Larry ran over too and tried to get attention, so I sat down on the floor and downed the first glass of water. It wasn't enough, so I went to refill, and finally with glass, water, and cat in hand, I sat down on a little squarish red leather stool, and sipped the second glass. Looking out at the blurry black and white kitchen, it suddenly hit me how happy I was in that exact moment. I have friends, I have a future, I have a wonderful cat (who was currently sinking his claws into my knee, but whatever) and I felt at peace. But then it hit me how much things had changed in one year. It wasn't hard to remember just how much pain I had gone through, the depression, the anxiety, the panic attacks, the trauma, and ultimately, those three times I had come so dangerously close to permanently ending my life, and I'm so glad I didn't. For some reason I felt like I should have been sad, but that only lasted for a brief moment because I realized that there was no reason to think about those dark times anymore. I could finally put it behind me as an event in my life that changed me forever into a different person, but I didn't need to dwell on the experience, only the lessons learned. I made it. I'm going somewhere. And going forward, no one's ever going to take away from me how much I know I'm worth to myself.

So if you're in a difficult place in life right now, you have every right to worry, but I promise you, it will get better. Repeat that message to yourself as many times as it takes for it to truly sink in and for you to believe it. Life can be unimaginably difficult sometimes, and there may be so many good reasons to want to end it, but you have to believe that it gets better. I am reminded of a Renoir quote that I read in a Chicken Soup for the Soul book many, many years ago. At the time, I didn't understand the meaning of it, but now it all makes sense. "The pain passes, but the beauty remains." To the newer readers of this blog, please don't let this scare you, if you have any questions feel free to ask me in person, and know that I love you very much. I wish I had pictures to include in this post, but as I do not, here are some golden retriever puppies. I hope you've all been having a wonderful day as well! ◊

#obsessed: Hurricane – Misterwives

Just a song I've been enjoying lately and have been listening to on repeat after I found it in my recommended songs on Spotify. It sounds a bit different from the Spotify version, but the Spotify embed feature doesn't work for people who don't have a Spotify account, so I'm back to using Youtube videos. It's sounds beautiful and uplifting, but what's even better is its message. A statement from the lead singer on the Billboard article says "We hope 'Hurricane' is an anthem for those who believe in individuality and don't give a f--k about what others think," and I really appreciate that message. ◊

#obsessed: Be Okay – Oh Honey

For the first time in a long time, I realize that I'm pretty happy again.

After over a year of anxiety, depression, and many other things (one could even make an argument for PTSD after literally a lifetime of some of the things that happened), I think I'm in "remission." I feel at peace, happy, even hopeful. I've had periods like this before, but they've only lasted a week or two, so hopefully this one will last for a while. This one feels different though. Even after an incident I recover fairly quickly. I feel unrelentingly optimistic, and freedom is right on the horizon. It's a nice thought.

Quite a while ago, Isabelle showed me this song. It was nice and cheerful, but not very memorable. Then it hit the mainstream, even being featured in a Chili's commercial (Isabelle was not happy about that), and I looked it up again. It's more applicable to my life right now, and I love the lyrics and tune.

"I'm wide awake, so what's the point of dreaming when your life is great?
Celebrate the feeling, celebrate the feeling,
Can't complain about much these days, I believe we'll be okay."

In case this doesn't last a long time, hopefully I can remember to take the good days as they come, and leave the bad days as they go. ◊

2015 Focus: Mindful Body Wellness

This year I want to be pretty.

Let me preface this by saying that I do not have body dysmorphic disorder as far as I know of. I'm actually quite happy with who I am at the moment – intellectually, mentally, emotionally, and physically. Of course, some of things are still a little bit shaky, but I'm generally a lot more stable in those aspects than I was, say, a month or half a year ago. But I want to make some changes. Life is always about moving forward and making positive changes. Maybe it is because I'm a little insecure on the inside, but who isn't? And I say, "I want to be pretty," more as a "putting conscientious effort into my appearance" way than a "I'm ugly right now" kind of way. If that makes any sense.

Anyhow, I've been thinking about this, and sure, inner beauty is great and all, but I totally want to be one of those "yoga on the beach at sunset" people. It must be so great to have the time for that, but since I don't have that luxury, I'll start small, maybe just by putting more effort into my my outwards appearance. It's not only about makeup and clothing, but actually treating myself right, physically or health-wise. Sure, body positivity and loving who you are is great, but you're really not loving yourself if you're leaving your body to rot with a crappy lifestyle. That's my own concern about the body positivity movement, that its message can be skewed or misconstrued towards loving yourself as you are no matter what instead of encouraging people to take care of themselves and work towards better health.

This is an idea that has been consistently at the back of my mind for a while, but today, I rediscovered Inthefrow, who basically has my dream life as far as I can tell. She has purple hair, works as a blogger, lives in London, and models on the side. At first I thought, "Wow, she is so lucky that she gets to live off of her looks," but then I read that she has a Ph.D. on her about page, and my life kind of felt like crap again, but it was also strangely motivating. There's nothing that says I can't work towards that lifestyle. Once I have the full freedom and independence to live my life, I'll have so many more options, but there are still plenty of things that I can do now.

For me, that consists of three things: skin care, eating right, and exercise. I'd like to invest in some more beauty products and do reviews on them as I go. Most of these will probably be skin care products, like washes, face masks, and toners etc, as my combination skin annoys me to no end. I thought about doing a "Makeup Monday" type thing, similar to "Food Friday" but I wouldn't be consistent enough for that. Then again I haven't been keeping up with Food Friday either, mostly because the food stuff happens on the weekend, so then I have to wait a week to post about food on Friday, and then I forget.

With food, I have no authority over my family's shopping habits at the moment, but when I do, I am totally down for the salad and avocado and carrot stick type of food thing (I hesitate to say the word "diet" because that implies a short term phase). No, it's not that I want to torture myself by forcing myself to be vegetarian (trust me, I've tried). It works for some people, but definitely not for me. However, I genuinely enjoy the taste of fresh, healthy food. It makes me feel good on the inside, and I'm always in a better mood after a salad. As for exercise, I don't have the time to do anything extreme. I've even decided to stop swimming for the school as speech and art are taking up more of my day. But I do want to be toned and healthy so I have more energy throughout the day.

Simply put, I want to have more control over my life, so for the time being, I will pursue endeavors that I do have control over, such as my personal health and appearance. I wanna be like Kanye. I'll be the King of me always. Do what I want and have it my way. All day, like Kanye-eah, yeah, yeah.

Or so goes the second song by the Chainsmokers (artists behind the [in]famous #SELFIE). On their Soundcloud, they say that, "This song is about doing you, living life how you want to live it and not giving a f*ck what anyone else thinks," and I think that sounds about right. I want to own my life. Do things my way. I've been terrified by what other people think of me for too long, and I've suffocated in the process. And this time, it won't be a sudden 180˚. It's going to take time. I'm going to take small steps. But I think it's going to be worth it.

So I want to be pretty. Depending on how you interpret that, it could be a good or bad thing. But I'm going to treat myself right, because I have been through a lot of crap, and I need that support from myself. I am allowed to pamper myself, even be a little bit vain, perhaps. I am allowed to love who I am, and I'm allowed to change who I am so I can love myself better. And that's my goal for this year.

(Warning: don't be offput by the SELFIE stuff going on at the beginning. It's a good song. I promise.)  ◊

Confidence vs. Arrogance

THIS BLOG WILL BE CHANGING URLs ON JANUARY 15, 2015. THE NEW URL WILL BE claryjsimmons.blogspot.com

Wheeeeeeee!! All I've been doing for the last two hours is blogging. In my pyjamas. In a clean room. On a clean bed. Not worrying about homework. This. Is. The. Life.

Ok fine, this is procrastinating. But I've been telling myself that I deserve/need it because my sleep schedule has been so messed up because of speech and debate. It's a slow and steady recovery, and at least blogging is somewhat productive.

Sunday was League II speech. I was entered in expos. I had just finished the final draft of my speech on the Wednesday before (Jan. 7) and had worked on the posters and memorization Thursday through Saturday. Essentially, I finished the whole thing in four days, which is absolutely ridiculous. On Saturday I had a coaching with Sandra*. It was a trainwreck, but that was expected. My first expos coachings had always been with her, and they had all been trainwrecks. But she wasn't in a good mood and went to talk to Mrs. Dasher* and I thought, "Oh god, I am fosho going to be dropped." Luckily, I wasn't, but I had some serious work to do. I went home, plunked down, and worked like a madwoman (I essentially am on on the daily, but even more so when I'm focused).

On Sunday, I woke up at five. I was aching all over from being hunched over on the ground working on posters, and I was terrified of messing up at the tournament. But all of a sudden, something changed. I stared at the ceiling and said to myself, "You worked hard for this. You wrote the speech. You memorized it. You made the posters. You did this all in four days. That is incredible. You can do this," and more, essentially giving myself a fifteen minute pep talk. I also listened to Britney Spear's "Work Bitch" which was strangely motivating. You want a hot body? You want a Bugatti? You want a Maserati? You better work bitch!

In extemp, it is necessary to be arrogant. Arrogance is thinking that you are better than everyone else.
You do have to believe that you are better than everyone else, because it's a solitary event, so doing so helps keep your morale up and confidence high. But arrogance is nothing without a strong foundation of confidence. Neither is necessarily a bad thing, but different situations require different outlooks.

The rest of the morning was a blur as I got ready and carpooled to the tournament. I tried going over my speech in the car and at the tournament, but I felt at ease. Confidence is a state of being in which you know you can do it. You worked for it. You put in the effort. Why wouldn't you be prepared? You are sure in your own abilities. That is confidence.

I started out shaky. A poster was out of order, so in my first round, I skipped an entire paragraph. No worries, change it around and do better next round. Next round however, the prop attached to the previous poster was gone, so I didn't use it. No worries, fix it. The third round, everything went well.

I actually didn't find out myself that I had broken. Another freshman told me. It felt like a dream. After all, even though I'm a senior, that was only my second time breaking at a League tournament.

I went 4-1-2-446, and I couldn't be happier. Though I didn't get a wildcard, I did place a respectable tenth place, and didn't rank dead last in my final round. I know I spoke the best that I could, and there wasn't anything else at the time that I could have done better. I was up against some of the very best, people who had been preparing for months. I did just as well, if not better, than half the people in that round, with four days of intense work. If that's possible, anything else is too.

The wildcards were also based on which round one ended up in for double-finals. The seventh place card (from Leland) had the same prelims ranks as me, but since she was in the (unanimously declared) easier round, she had higher rankings compared to everyone else in her round. That could have been me, but that wasn't, and I'm not mad about it. I just have to work harder so I am number one no matter what. And I know what to do. ◊

*name changed