Spring Break! Already half way over way too fast. I almost had no time to rest at all.
For spring break I went back home, which is a small town (306 people on the town sign) in rural Minnesota. Going back to see my brothers was so much fun. I missed them more than I could believe. My brothers are growing up so fast, which makes me think of how much it sucks to be the oldest.
Sure, maybe some of you think that being the oldest would be fun; parents give you more freedom and you earn privileges before your younger siblings. Okay, so that part wasn't that bad. I might even be the reason why my brothers will have very early curfews later in high school (my bad).
While some perks come with the job of being an older sibling (well, the oldest sibling), there is a lot of set backs, most of which I didn't realize until I left the nest for the "Forks". In middle school, I wasn't in sports most of the year, which made me the babysitter. When I started high school, my brothers took over as babysitters while I was away for sports and other extra curriculars. I ended up being so busy with school that, as my time in high school became shorter and shorter, I was becoming more and more distant from my family. It wasn't until I moved to Grand Forks that I felt totally separated from my family, because I was so far away.
Going back seemed to have opened an old wound that the busyness of my current life was holding shut. I didn't realize how much I missed my brothers until I went to see them again. It felt strange to see my brothers now, they've grown so much since I've seen them last. It's only been months, but it's seemed like years. I felt so out of place in my own family, it hurt just to be in my old house. I never realized how cold it was in the house until I went back. The heat was barely on, I had to wear two pairs of socks just to walk around. I felt like a visitor instead of a family member.
I broke this morning. I was laying in my old room (which now belongs to my younger brother, Kayden) and listened to the family as they got ready to leave the house for jobs and school. Before they left, my two youngest brothers came in the hugged me goodbye. My youngest brother, Jesse, said "I'll miss you Jana". I have a connection with Jesse. Jesse has an autism spectrum disorder, and I understand him pretty well. He's sometimes hard to understand, but he is one of the smartest kids I have ever met. He's socially deficient, but excels mentally. I broke down after my brothers left me in the room. They're growing up, and I'm a hundred miles away.
Shortly after that, my mom and Greg had a fight over milk. This kind of stuff happened all the time when I lived there, but I wasn't used to it anymore, so I broke down again. My mom came in and asked if I was okay, and I blamed my tears on a panic attack. It was a lie, I broke down because I felt like a stranger. Maybe it'll get better, who knows, maybe it'll never change. I used to belong here and now I'm an alien on the planet I used to thrive on. I don't know where I belong anymore. I hope that, as time goes on, I can find my place in the world, otherwise, I'll wander.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Fight
My mind is a battlefield. I'm constantly fighting with my emotions to keep them from driving me crazy. It's constant. Some days are better than others. Emotional pain sometimes finds me at my most vulnerable and attacks. I go into crying fits. I sometimes even go overboard and throw things. I suffer from an anxiety disorder and clinical depression. As of now I am not taking medicine because, when I did, it didn't work. I now try to control my emotions on my own. It's been pretty good so far, but sometimes the smallest thing can push me over the edge. It can be just a phone call unanswered or a dropped glass on the kitchen floor. The littlest and stupidest things set me off. One very big stress for me is not knowing what's going to happen in the near future. I like schedules and rules. I need and crave structure.
The panic attacks started shortly after I moved out of the house. I moved an hour and a half from my mother's house. The transition from a very loving home filled with younger siblings to a lonely two bedroom apartment with an overbearing roommate proved to much to bear. I started stressing out about very little things. It then escalated to hour-long crying sessions almost everyday. Part of this is because my roommate, a friend from high school, made it so stressful to even be in the same apartment as her that I would not want to come home after school or work. I remember the times when I would sit in my car in the parking lot and just bawl because I didn't want to face the "demon" waiting for me upstairs.
In order to combat the loneliness of the work week, as well as the stress of having a bad roommate, I got a pet. It was an impulse one day as me and my boyfriend were walking around the pet store in the mall. Looking down at the cages of small, furry creatures, I saw a white ball of fur. It was a white rat. I brought her home that day, and I still have her. Fiona was my first rat, and now I have Marcie too. Both of my rats help me through the loneliness of the work week.
It's hard to be strong. People can tell you, "Be strong, you can do it, I know you can.", but sometimes it takes strength just to believe it. I think that part of the reason why some freshmen in college have a hard time in the real world is because they were never taught what the real world really is. As children, we are told that we can be whatever we want when we become adults. So, we grow up with the idea that everything will work out, when that's not always true. That's why a lot of college students find themselves struggling with depression. I hope to help my little brothers, who are growing up too soon, when they go on their own. I want to help them in a way that I wasn't, by explaining to them that life is a series of "up's" and "down's", and that just wanting something won't make it yours. If you really want something in the real world, you work your ass off for it. I love them and don't want them to go through the same mental suffering as I have dealt with. I want them to be happy.
The panic attacks started shortly after I moved out of the house. I moved an hour and a half from my mother's house. The transition from a very loving home filled with younger siblings to a lonely two bedroom apartment with an overbearing roommate proved to much to bear. I started stressing out about very little things. It then escalated to hour-long crying sessions almost everyday. Part of this is because my roommate, a friend from high school, made it so stressful to even be in the same apartment as her that I would not want to come home after school or work. I remember the times when I would sit in my car in the parking lot and just bawl because I didn't want to face the "demon" waiting for me upstairs.
In order to combat the loneliness of the work week, as well as the stress of having a bad roommate, I got a pet. It was an impulse one day as me and my boyfriend were walking around the pet store in the mall. Looking down at the cages of small, furry creatures, I saw a white ball of fur. It was a white rat. I brought her home that day, and I still have her. Fiona was my first rat, and now I have Marcie too. Both of my rats help me through the loneliness of the work week.
It's hard to be strong. People can tell you, "Be strong, you can do it, I know you can.", but sometimes it takes strength just to believe it. I think that part of the reason why some freshmen in college have a hard time in the real world is because they were never taught what the real world really is. As children, we are told that we can be whatever we want when we become adults. So, we grow up with the idea that everything will work out, when that's not always true. That's why a lot of college students find themselves struggling with depression. I hope to help my little brothers, who are growing up too soon, when they go on their own. I want to help them in a way that I wasn't, by explaining to them that life is a series of "up's" and "down's", and that just wanting something won't make it yours. If you really want something in the real world, you work your ass off for it. I love them and don't want them to go through the same mental suffering as I have dealt with. I want them to be happy.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
A Love of Spuds, Cleaning, and Ridiculous T.V. Shows
Recently, I've rediscovered my love of potatoes. Sounds completely stupid, but let me explain. I, being a really poor college student who forgot everything she learned about basic nutrition when she moved out, I don't eat very healthy. In the first few months after moving to the Forks, most of my diet consisted of Easy Mac, a variety of Ramen noodle flavors, and Mountain Dew. Well I shouldn't have been surprised when I started getting sick. Earlier this week, I had a very strange craving for potato chips. I ended up buying potatoes, which I haven't had for a long time. I realized that I missed the taste. I'm pretty sure that I'm gonna get sick of them by next week, and so the cycle continues.
I woke up this morning in someone else's apartment. It was too clean to be my house. The only indication that it was my house was the cages that line the west side of my bedroom. I cleaned the night before without even realizing! EVERYTHING is clean now, and I love how clean it finally is. Now, I don't have to worry about a sick full of dirty dishes or a dusty floor, at least until next week.
I'm on a History Channel kick. I like the shows about hidden treasure, but I can't stand the shows about whether aliens helped the Egyptians build the pyramids. I think they're stupid. One question they asked was, "Is the movie 'Cowboys and Aliens' based on a true story?" Haha, no. Sounds more like the rantings of a crazy person. I like the History Channel that shows real events, like stories about the founding of America or ancient civilizations or British royalty. I don't want to hear about aliens, it just seems to far fetched for the History Channel to show, leave that stuff for the Sci-fi channel.
I've found out that I do love one really stupid show, "the Regular Show". It's my little guilty pleasure on Cartoon Network. For some reason I think it's hilarious. I don't think there should be an age limit on cartoons, unless it's "Dora", because that's just weird. I also still like "Spongebob", but then again, who doesn't that's my age? I find cartoons relaxing after a long day at school or an even longer day at work. Something about just blanking out on the idiot box calms me down.
Something popped in my head about my rat babies, maybe they do like me as more than a source of food. When I walked in the door after Monday's night work, my rats both leaned against the side of their cages and looked at me like they wanted attention. I held Marcie first, then Fiona. Fiona has started to get somewhat aggressive in her attempts to nip me when I try to hold her, so I had to get the spray bottle. Fiona hates getting her fur wet. Marcie's getting used to me day by day, and soon I can train her to ride shoulders, clap, and even high-five. Hopefully, soon I'll only need one cage for both of them, but they still need to get used to each other.
I've found out that I do love one really stupid show, "the Regular Show". It's my little guilty pleasure on Cartoon Network. For some reason I think it's hilarious. I don't think there should be an age limit on cartoons, unless it's "Dora", because that's just weird. I also still like "Spongebob", but then again, who doesn't that's my age? I find cartoons relaxing after a long day at school or an even longer day at work. Something about just blanking out on the idiot box calms me down.
Something popped in my head about my rat babies, maybe they do like me as more than a source of food. When I walked in the door after Monday's night work, my rats both leaned against the side of their cages and looked at me like they wanted attention. I held Marcie first, then Fiona. Fiona has started to get somewhat aggressive in her attempts to nip me when I try to hold her, so I had to get the spray bottle. Fiona hates getting her fur wet. Marcie's getting used to me day by day, and soon I can train her to ride shoulders, clap, and even high-five. Hopefully, soon I'll only need one cage for both of them, but they still need to get used to each other.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)