Through Other Eyes

I'm just pointing out something that everyone knows by saying this, but here goes: things always look different through someone else's eyes. Everyone has their own opinions and ways of looking at things, thinking about things, dealing with things. It's easy for one person to see things through rose-colored glasses and keep a smile on while others see the end of the world and always have a frown. This thought has manifested itself in many different ways to me in the past couple of days.

I generally hate MTV/VH1, reality TV, idiots competing for cash prizes, etc. However, my roommate and I have a guilty VH1 pleasure: Tool Academy. In this show, girls trick their jackass boyfriends into coming onto a reality TV show where they believe they will get to show the world how fabulous and man-whory they are. Instead, the are crammed into a dorm-style room where there is more testosterone and shit-talking per square foot than a college fraternity house. The "tools" and their girlfriends have to participate in therapy sessions and challenges each week, and one couple is eliminated at the end. Now, I often vent about (or praise) my relationship with B in this blog. Looking back, nothing he does is as bad as these screaming, egotistical, cheating jerks on the show. Sure, B and I have our share of rough patches. But our rough patches could be rougher. Like most couples, we have our communication issues. We can each be selfish at times. We have conflicting interests, but we can usually resolve them quite quickly.
But these guys consistently cheat on their girlfriends, get in pointless fights with other guys, are often unemployed and living off their girlfriends, and sometimes we even get a little baby-mama-drama! My problems pale in comparison. B has never cheated and I am positive he never will. I am more likely to pick a fight with someone than he is. The list goes on. Shows (and real-life situations like these) are my rose-tinted glasses. They aren't disguising my problems, but they put them in a better light for me. It makes me appreciate the things we disagree about. As stressed out as I get sometimes, I always have to remember that things could be worse. Much worse.

Can I Say "I LOVE YOU".....?

I was at B's house last night and decided to write a blog post. He asked what I was doing, so I told him. Now, he knows I just started blogging - in fact, he's the one that suggested I start. But I didn't expect him to read it. I mean, when I try to talk to him about these things, it seems like he doesn't want to know. But last night, he told me he's been reading my blog. For some reason, that really freaked me out....a lot.

Obviously, anyone can read my blog and I don't mind sharing things with strangers. And sometimes when I write a new post I'll email a text copy to B, but not the actual web address of the post. I was absolutely floored to learn he's read every post I've written, not just the few I've emailed to him personally. At first I didn't even believe him - I thought he was joking (he does that a lot)! But he insisted he reads it. After seeing my admittedly strange reaction to this news, he said he would stop reading if it really bothered me.

It's not the fact that it bothers me that he's reading, it's the fact that I had no idea he was.

I'll confess, sometimes I write things that I would normally say to B - or if I did say it, I wouldn't present it to him the same way I do on my blog. I think the thing that struck me the most, though, was that he's never said anything. He's never mentioned that he reads my blog. He's never brought up any of the topics I talk about in my blog. Maybe it's just me, but that just seems.....not right. I got incredibly nervous last night because I've talked about the apparently taboo topic of saying those three little words, which he's never said to me. I wanted to bring up the fact that he's read this and never mentioned it, but I didn't.

Now I'm awkward about writing blogs in case I say something stupid that he will read, stew about for a while, then never talk to me about. I also feel that I can never bring up the topic of love ever again, because, although we've never actually talked about it, he already knows what I have to say.

I'm not going to stop writing, and I'm not going to tell him to stop reading. It's easy to know what I'm not going to do in this situation....I'm just confused about what I am going to do...

A Few Bad Days

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Hey all!! Sorry I haven't been writing at all the past five days or so...I've been extremely busy with school and everything else and just haven't been in the mood to write. I've been taking my "meds" lately, but the past few days I still haven't been myself...

As usual, I've been keeping myself very busy (some would say I'm too busy). I just started taking some classes at my local community college in order to be able to apply to the Masters in Nursing program I want to get into. Since these classes are science labs, and my life already seems to be over-scheduled, things are about to get a little hectic!

In order to keep myself from going absolutely insane, I am trying to find fun recreational activities to participate in without being completely hammered (Santa Barbara is quite a party town, so sometimes it gets hard to find activities that DON'T involve intoxication...especially during summertime). This summer, my boyfriend, his roommate, my roommate, and myself ("The Fam") have started throwing some balls around at our local bowling alley :) Our friend has been a bowling league before - albeit years ago - but the rest of us are just learning. We decided that we would join a 'Sunday Fun League' so that we're not competing with the pros.

We started doing this just for fun, but now we're really starting to get into it! (With the exception of my man, all of us are very competitive people. We know that we're not the best bowlers in the alley, but we definitely won't let ourselves be the worst!!) Last night (Tues) we went bowling, without my roomie, and got the best lane and arrived right when happy hour began. *By the way, this bowling alley is the only one in about a 70 mile radius and has around 40 excellent beers on tap,many of which are their own labels. My favorite thing about this bowling gig is the $4, 22oz "Shock Top" beer that has hints of orange in it. Soooo gooood...*

Anyway, I was bowling absolutely terrible last night and the boys were doing pretty well, as usual. Normally I don't care that I suck, but last night it was really getting to me. I was trying so hard, concentrating on all the tips I've received from the pros and other people, but my ball still seemed to find the gutter more often than it should have. While I hate getting a terrible score, I was mostly upset with myself.

I am definitely my harshest critic, and when I put my energy into something only to receive no reward, I get frustrated. Efficiency is one of my main objectives in a task, so when I set out to accomplish something and don't get instant gratification, I struggle. I understand that many things take time to develop, but this was different. My moods and emotions are difficult for me to control: I never know when I'm going to have a good day, or a "bad" day, even when I'm taking my pills religiously.

Although not nearly as severe as before I was medicated, these "bad days" (when my depression is prominent) really effect me, even when I try to push those negative thoughts out of my mind. I don't think I'll ever stop being my own worst enemy as far as criticism goes, and I know I'm always gonna have "bad days" on occasion. It's during these times that I really lean on my boyfriend (we'll start calling him B), and last night at the alley, he reminded me that sucking at bowling doesn't make me a bad person. No matter how hard I tried to sit alone in the corner and drink my delicious happy hour beer until it was my turn again, he kept bringing me into his arms and trying to cheer me up.

I finally let his dorky jokes and kisses bring me out of my funk for a little bit, but it slowly crept back shortly after we arrived home. He snuggled me close last night, as my Ambien took me away to a land of strange and semi-satisfying sleep. When I woke up next to him this morning, I remembered that I don't have to be perfect. I am who I am, and that's perfect enough.

New Friends

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I just want to take a minute to give a quick shout out to those of you who just started following my blog :) It feels great, as a brand new blogger, to find some people with common (or completely uncommon) interests. I'll be following all of your blogs as well (and updating my blog roll soon), and comments are always welcome!

I also wanted to endorse 20SB, where I'm sure I "met" most of you. It's a great network for new bloggers like myself, and people just looking for some great reading material! I check my own blog way more often than I check 20sb, so I want to comment back to all of you and say THANKS! I look forward to blogging with you in the future!!! :)

Have a beautiful day everyone, I'll be drowning in homework for the next few hours until work. Ugh. I guess whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger...or smarter...or at least alive!

Welcome!

Well...this is my first time "blogging" and to be quite honest I have no idea what I'm doing! I like to write and usually have a lot to say, so I figured I would give this a shot and see what happens. I'm a 22-year-old graduate of UCSB, and like many people in my situation, am facing the "quarter-life crisis." I've always been considered mature for my age by adults, but as I get older I sometimes feel that I'm regressing. Now that I have a degree from an outstanding University, I'm supposed to go out into the "real world" and find a job. Or I can delay this dreaded reality a little bit longer and attempt to get into Graduate school. Right now I'm stuck between these two options and am quickly running out of financial aid money to support myself in this expensive community. I have a job that barely pays the bills, but it's part time and not advancing me towards a career. I have a great roommate and a great boyfriend here, but they seem to lack guidance themselves and aren't helping my situation much.

I've spread myself thin for years and years, always helping other people to achieve what they want. I'm good at helping people. I'm also good at knowing what people want, and delivering. Now this is a good strategy when trying to get ahead and be on the good sides of the right people...at least for a while. However, it is this special talent of mine that has led to part of the breakdown that is My Quarter-Life Crisis.

My family has a history of anxiety disorders and this curse has not skipped over me. For most of my life though, I've been able to deal with any mental or emotional issues I may have. I'm good at talking and am not really afraid to say what's on my mind. However, a depression has come over me that I've been shrugging off for years, and trying to cover up with work and school and social obligations. Now don't get me wrong, these things aren't just a cover up. I love school, I like keeping busy at work, and I'm a very social person. However, I was hiding my true anguish underneath all these things that I "loved" doing, and finally reached my breaking point. Besides seeking professional help/medication, etc., I decided I would no longer try to cover it up. That's what inspired me to finally test the waters of writing my life on the internet.

As I mentioned earlier, I don't know much about blogging. Actually, I don't know anything about blogging. I don't know who, if anyone, will even read this. But for those of you who somehow stumble upon this humble post of mine, your comments are more than welcome! This isn't just going to be a depressing rant of some tortured soul. I live a fun life and interesting things happen to me all the time! I have terrible luck, I'm really clumsy, I have great sex, great friends, and a loving family. My intention for this blog is to express anything and everything. While I would love to live the luxurious life of Sex and the City's Carrie Bradshaw, writing a fun and witty column once a week and buying $5000 Prada dresses to fill up an amazing walk-in closet in a bustling city, I figure this is a start. Besides, I've never even been in a Prada store and am too short for most of that crap anyways.