episode twelve // the common denominator

And just like that I lost another friend. This never used to happen to me. But over the past two years some of my best friends have turned their backs to me leaving me looking around wondering where I went wrong. The reality is (as a member of my group therapy said) I’m the common denominator and as I look back on the situations I try to recognize where they overlap, how they are similar. I try my hardest to not judge myself but that’s my signature move and as I tear myself apart I’m just left with open wounds again and again because my OCD will never let them fully heal. “It’s ok” I say to myself “everything will be alright” as I look in to the mirror knowing fully that it won’t be and it never will be until I figure out what it is about me that makes it so easy for people to leave. What makes me a punching bag or what makes me so easy to walk all over. I’m hurt and my emotional immune system is done but maybe it needs to be for me to figure out what needs to change. Maybe the fire that this time of mourning gives me is just what I need to find my weakness. Or maybe I’m just tearing myself to shreds. I hate myself. I try to be forgiving and understanding and caring and all it does is leave me alone. It seems what’s wrong with me is the thing I take pride in the most. I care. Is this a risk I have to take? If I want to care do I also have to be walked all over? My coworker once told me that I was gonna get walked all over if I kept being the way I am. She’s right. But is it disgusting that if walking all over me is what someone needs to do I’m okay with it? I can’t narrow it down to one thing. What’s wrong with me? It’s not me it’s them worked the first time and the second it helped me through but third times a charm and I’m just waiting for the next person to be done and leave me to. Who next? The real question is should I even give them a chance to or just isolate. Put myself in a box. Turn feelings off and avoid. What kind of life is that? No risk no reward? There’s no right answer as I keep spinning around this idea. I don’t know much about myself anymore, the only thing I know is that I’m the common denominator.

-the girl with the green glasses

episode eleven // related to

I’ve got some big time avoidance going on. I’m sleeping more, eating like shit, and distracting my mind with marvel movies instead of dealing with the fact that I feel sad and unwanted in every way possible. These ways include but are on limited to Romantically, Platonically, Professionally and Universally and although these “labels” don’t quite make sense grammatically we’re just gonna go with it.

Romantically

I’ve been on and off dating apps like Tinder and Bumble a few times now. I took it too seriously the first time I downloaded it, feeling weird and wigging out anytime anyone messaged me. The second time I didn’t take it seriously enough and kinda used it as a way to quantify my attractiveness to the opposite sex. This could have worked to show that someone would find me attractive until my brain just told me that I was using pictures that didn’t look like me and that was the reason they were swiping. I chatted but never met anyone in person but, although my friends say I didn’t, I did attempt to meet people just not with as hard as I should have. This third time though is different (so I told myself) I used less selfies and more funny pictures and really tried to be more like me. But, it’s not really working. I did match with this one kid I went to high school with. He has one of those names where you feel obligated to say his first and last name together like a compound word. We matched on both apps and I messaged him on bumble where we exchanged 3 messages before he ghosted. My second attempt with him came in the form of an interesting fact about Paraguay and their rules on dueling and this caught his attention but did not keep it for after only a few exchanges he was gone again. I wasn’t upset or offended it’s just one of those things it throws you off a tad but I’ll get back on the horse. In the mean time I’m chronically single with no signs of relief and because I’m learning about nursing diagnosis’ in school I thought I would make one up for this situation:

Chronically single with no hopeful candidates related to complete lack of confidence and self-esteem

Platonically

Friends are so fucking complicated, or at least the ones I make. I was going to write an entire post about how I hurt a friend and how even if it’s completely unreasonable you should still feel sorry because you hurt them but I’m not so sure anymore. What I’m coming to terms with is that I find people that need me in a friendship because that’s the only way I think they won’t leave and that’s also how I quantify my friendships making them tangible. This back fires on me consistently though because the friendship becomes unbalanced and often times I collapse under the pressure or become a punching bag. It’s not all of my friends by any means but what I’m realizing is people can just enjoy your company. You don’t need to wow them or flaunt it. It can be as simple as asking how they are, nothing extravagant. I’m learning for sure and keeping my jealousy and insecurities in check as my friends make other friends growing their social webs. What I’m trying to remember is that that means my social web is expanding too. But, the worst is getting left out by groups of friends that you know every piece of. I’m going to write a whole other post about this but, it’s just so painful to know all your friends are hanging out without you and you didn’t even get the invite. The nursing diagnosis for this one would read:

Inability to maintain a healthy friendship related to lack of understanding of how the fuck to measure “healthy”

Professionally

I’ve been at my job for about a year now and I love it most of the time. But, what I don’t love is the complete lack of recognition I get for being as good at it as I am. I’m definitely not the best my low self of esteem would never let me think that but I constantly feel like some staff members think poorly of me because I ask questions and care so much about the rules and staying consistent. It’s whatever I guess I just wish that there were better ways to get answers then asking humans that can judge you for asking. Nursing diagnosis:

Lack of Confidence in job performance related to lack of validation and understanding by some coworkers

Universally

Ok, I know it’s dramatic but feeling as if you belong in your own skin and in the universe is a very important part of the human experience! Or at least my human experience. For some reason I feel this discomfort wherever I am. Like, in my apartment it doesn’t feel like mine or my car or my shoes just everything is off and I can’t seem to figure it out. I think that as of late I am so insecure with where I’m going to end up or if I was going to get into my program that now that I am here I feel like I don’t even deserve it. This is related to my self esteem and my fraud complex but it’s becoming more and more of a thought in my mind; growing like a snowball rolling down a hill. But, I digress knowing full well I sound dumb. Diagnosis:

Discomfort within own skin related to crippling anxiety (technically crippling anxiety doesn’t work there but I don’t care)

With all of these diagnoses and problem staring me in the face it’s no wonder why I want to hide away. But, that’s not how life works. They pull the covers off and make loud noises forcing you to wake up and get your ass out of bed. Unfortunately even when you’re up and walking around you aren’t forced to deal with anything leaving these problems to fester and burn a hole. Which leads us to our last diagnosis:

Feeling unwanted related to Everything listed above and more

-the girl with the green glasses

episode ten // petty is as petty does

I know that not everyone is going to like me or be nice to me and that’s okay but, what I will never understand, is how you completely ignore someone you used to call a friend for absolutely no reason. I had an encounter like that today. My friend was sitting and chatting with a girl whom I haven’t seen or spoken to in months and who I don’t love but she’s a fine person and I wave to my friend and then to her and my friend gives me a nod and the other girl just looks at me in disgust before looking away. I don’t care that my friend is talking to her or if they are friends it just hurts to be treated like garbage by someone no matter who they are and it sucks even more when they are someone you thought you were at least acquaintances with. And I have no beef with this girl directly, it seems that after my friendship with two of our mutual friends faded she chose them which is no surprise but why in the world do you have to act like I don’t exist? It’s like she thinks I don’t deserve her attention or a simple “hello”? I just don’t understand treating people like shit for them doing nothing wrong.

My gut reaction is to perseverate on this. Go through every second of every interaction to figure out what I did wrong. Try to figure out who the “bad guy” is. However, what I’ve learned is that there isn’t always a bad guy and right and wrong is in the eyes of the beholder. I can’t rectify this nor should I. This petty bullshit is part of life and I choose my reaction. I choose to take the high road.

So, next time I see her I’ll probably say hi. But, next time I see her I won’t put any weight on her reaction. I’m trying to find peace among all this pettiness.

-the girl with the green glasses

episode nine // anxiety and grief and depression, oh my!

Well hello there again! If you are reading this know it has been a very long time since the last time I posted and I know it. A lot has changed. I’m in nursing school now, two of my best friends basically dropped me, and as quickly as I started drinking I think that I’m done. Let’s address those in order:

I got into an RN program that is very competitive but, now that I’m in the program, after working 5 semesters to get in, my anxious mind is trying to convince me that I’m not cut out for this and that I can’t handle it and it’s not what I want. Completely ludicrous right? Well, I hope so. No one has been able to ease this feeling of dread unfortunately. The last time I was in this state, questioning everything, was when I went to my first college like everyone else. I ended up leaving that school after a week and everyone (family, friends, acquaintances) put a lot of pressure on me to stay there and I ended up in a downward spiral that ended in me being in therapy twice a week. So, this time around no one is being stern on anything. This means, however, I am getting ZERO validation. Everyone is terrified that if they say that I was made for nursing or that it’s right for me I will take it the wrong way and spiral again. The problem is some validation that I’m on the right path wouldn’t hurt right about now but, I guess that’s what I get for telling everyone to back off. What I need to do is find that validation for myself but with my emotional immune system weak from all the stress, I’m having trouble even getting up in the morning. And the work load is insane. I finally have college friends and I can’t even see them because I’m doing mountains and mountains of homework. Its all about time management and I’m finding that I suck at it. We will see how this works out but, right now I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a mess and this isn’t the only reason why.

Number two, I lost two of my original college friends. It was a long time coming because we didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things and I get that but it doesn’t help that a lot of my interactions with one of them were negative towards the end. I didn’t realize it until I looked back but I was not the best person I could be when I was with them and that is not their fault but mine for not noticing it. I know now, that I do not deserve to be treated that way and am learning from my mistakes in those friendships. I had never really experienced losing friends like this but now that I have I see how painful it can truly be. The worst part is, one of my remaining friends is still close with them and I am terrified to lose her too. This fear has driven me to be self conscious and cautious around her which does not help a friendship at all. I’m working on it definitely but, it sometimes feels like I’m on borrowed time and any day all my friends will be gone again. And I’ll be alone again.

I believe my last post was regarding drinking (I’m too lazy to check) but it seems I will be ending as abruptly as I started on this drinking journey with night I have labeled “Dumpster Fire Night.” This truly exemplifies the way I acted that night and the way I feel about what I remember of that night. I invited all the people I cared about, became and emotional drunk, tore down pictures from my walls that included people that hurt me, held tightly to my chest a box of pictures of my friend who had passed away in high school, and verbalized the terrible thoughts I have because of my OCD terrifying everyone in earshot and the people I called on the phone. Overall, I realized I was not drinking for the right reasons. I wasn’t just having fun, I was drinking to get drunk and to not feel all this bullshit that had been going on. I can’t say I’m done for good but I learned that I need to take a solid break and reevaluate what my goals are when it comes to drinking because becoming numb should not be the goal nor does it work

Although those feel like the three biggest things going on, my belief is that it’s all kinda melded together by an overarching sadness. I can’t get away from it or explain it. It comes and goes but it’s this feeling of no one understands and I hate myself for saying that but that’s just where I am. I wanted so badly to write a post about how things are going well and tips on how to stay focused in class but, that’s not reality. And as I lay on my bed after eating my favorite food from my favorite place with two of my favorite people I can’t help but wonder why none of it is enough for me. I constantly tell my friends to reach out if they need anything but, every time I do I never feel it was successful. I know that the only person that can fix this or at least have an effect on it is me but, it seems that I’m not strong enough for that just yet. So I’m here, on my bed, hugging my childhood blanket, wishing I was anywhere but here alone, hoping that tomorrow will be better, knowing I have a shit ton of work todo and not enough time or energy to do it, and tears streaming down my face. Just a regular night I guess...

I’ll be back to write soon

-the girl with the green glasses

episode eight // a sobering experience

Last night at around 2 or 3 am I was sitting in the floral patterned chair in my living room rocking back and forth. I sat there trying to stay awake to make sure my other friend, who was pretty drunk, didn’t do anything stupid. You can call her Selena. I wasn’t sober but I wasn’t as drunk as I had been earlier in the night when there were more friends there. The point of this night was to celebrate the end of the semester and forget all the drama and bullshit that was surrounding us these days. Between friendships and boy problems me and Selena had been through the ringer and I thought adding alcohol to the situation would numb our problems but, it ended up igniting them.

This was only my second time actually drinking. I’ve been a straight edge for as long as I can remember. My moms a recovering alcoholic and I’d seen my family members become different people whilst under the influence. It felt scary. When my high school friends started drinking I was terrified. I didn’t really know the other side of alcohol, the casual side, I only knew the extreme and even if it was good in moderation all I could think about was if I couldn’t contain myself. So I stayed away. I grew distant from my friends and often felt left out. And throughout my college experience these feelings have not wavered. Just last month a group of five of my friends met up at one of their colleges and went out. I wasn’t invited but, I didn’t drink or party so there was no real reason to invite me. I realized after finding out about their great adventure and hearing all the stories over one of our school breaks that I might be missing out on a piece of life. This seemed insane to me, my fears had always kept me strapped in tight with no wiggle room and all of sudden I was considering what life could be like at the bottom of a bottle of vodka. I buried those thoughts deep. The concept haunted me though. Maybe I would enjoy going out and making out with some random dude in a dark room that smells like BO. It’s not like my other attempts at romance or connection with the male species had worked so, maybe just take the feeling out of it. These thoughts whirled around my head as I have explained to you so many times and I also started thinking that maybe drunk me would be more fun, more likable. I would be closer to my friends and get to know what it’s like to live their college experience. I thought about going to drink with them at their colleges but was too afraid so I dropped the subject. I didn’t think about myself drinking again until my friends from my school came over to pregame before going to a medieval themed concert our friend would be performing in. The reasoning for the intoxication was that if they were going to see our guy friend dressed in tights they were most definitely not going to do it sober. I respect it.

We played a quick round of kings (I drank water) before I drove them over to what turned out to be a hilarious 2 hour dinner where one of our music professors was dressed up as a king and took it upon himself to mess with one of our lovable but at this point slightly sloshed friend who we will call Captain. It was fun but what I didn’t realize was that when the “feast” came to an end our night was truly just getting started.

After the concert finale, I drove us to the liquor store right down the road where Captain picked up an 8 dollar bottle of vodka that would turn out to be my first real alcoholic beverage. Not straight of course I’m not that strong, but mixed with Snapple half and half the taste was tolerable. My college friends didn’t make a big deal of it when I reached for the bottle to mix in with my Snapple and I appreciated that. I felt completely comfortable and I was glad I was experiencing it with these people. The night turned crazy though seeming as they technically started drinking at 5:30 and by the time 10 pm rolled around half our squad had thrown up and 2 were passed out on the couch. The rest of the night was also eventful but not important to this train of thought.

The next morning was rough. I never thought I would ever experience a hangover but then there I was. I slept a lot but, had to be on my game because my older sister was coming over that night to exchange Christmas Gifts. I ended up telling her what happened and that I was no longer her straight edge little sister with a stick up her ass and I don’t think I’ve seen her more excited. For years I had judged my older siblings (9 and 11 years older than me) for their drinking. Not because it was wrong but because it made me uncomfortable. And my brother had tried time and time again to get me drunk but I wasn’t ready and I’m honestly glad I waited. My sister and brother in law gave me great advice about drinking and I honestly have never felt closer to them. They felt comfortable telling me about their crazy drunk stories knowing that now there was no judgement coming from my end.

My first time turned out to be a lot of fun and I thought every time would be like that until I was sitting in the floral chair in my living room at 2 or 3 am listening to Selena tell me she needed to call our other friend and basically tell him how great he was and some other shit. I finally just changed my name in her phone to his so she thought she was calling him and she “left him a voicemail” that I will now have on my phone forever more. Who knew drunk me was a genius. Like I said though my first time was fun but my second time I experienced another side of drunk. We were drinking to forget about our shitty friend situation but we ended up talking about it. We cried and yelled and we did all the stupid stuff emotional drunks do until all the rest of our friends ended up leaving and it was just me, Selena and our other sober friend who stuck it out. This was the side of drunk I feared. I see why people drink. It makes social interaction easier for sure but it mostly amplifies the feelings you are feeling. If you are going out to party it can amplify the fun but if you are drinking to forget because you are sad...you end up more sad. So as I lay here with a hangover that makes me want to turn off every light in the world and eat all the chips and dip I can; I think I’ll take a breather. I didn’t go crazy or anything but I need to figure out what my limits are and realize that emotionally drinking is a big deal to me. For so long I was stubborn in my thought process and felt I would be sober forever but now I’m not, that’s a big deal. I’m letting myself feel that. Moral of the story drink on your own time. Make sure you are in a safe environment with people that care about you and will help you out. And I want you to know my friend from the beginning she’s okay. She ended up keeping me up for a couple more hours while we let our sober friend sleep. She kept me up by saying so much but nothing at all it was actually very impressive. She’s also glad she left that voicemail for me instead of the boy it was intended for.

 - the girl with the green glasses

episode seven // the dark side of the moon

They spent their night at a Pink Floyd Light show at the city’s planetarium, as did my body but my mind? Not so much.

The show started and the music was wonderful. I don’t claim to be a major Pink Floyd fan or anything but their music gives me flashbacks of car rides with mom or cooking dinner in the kitchen with dad. The lasers were entrancing at first. Flying around the planetarium at what seemed to be lightning speed with brilliant flashes of red and pink and blue. It kept me intrigued until my intrusive thoughts decided the show was over for me.

I started thinking about this friend of mine. This friend that I had always wished was more than. The kind of person that you go places hoping to run into or seeing their name gives you butterflies. I started thinking about the kind of guy he is how he walks into the room and commands it. How dynamic he is, how funny and creative he is, how damaged he is. I judged myself for thinking that but knew it to be true. I wanted to fix him, help him, make him feel better and my irrational mind thought if only he brought me into his life that way if only...things would be different. But, I knew they wouldn’t.

The planetarium with a bright flash of white light curbs my attention back to it. I watch as the lasers paint a colorful square on the ceiling. I whisper to my friend “we should’ve come high” I don’t get high, never have but it seemed like a funny thing to say. After that, I was at the mercy of my thoughts again.

I started thinking about another friend. One who had hurt me very badly. The one I don’t really speak to anymore. I felt the pain again and wondered if it would ever go away. I remember trying to make people understand it was the concept of what happened not the content. I don’t care about the specifics it’s what happened in the grand scheme. She got what she wanted in the end and I can’t blame her for being happy. I thought about how I hope she’s doing well and I know she doesn’t think the same for me...or think of me at all.

The weight on my chest was lifted by a flying goose projected on the screen, again halting my train of thought in its place as I focused on the bright colors and loud music around me. I stayed longer this time noticing how my mind kept drifting but nothing could silence my thoughts for that long.

School was on the docket this time. I thought about how I had to meet with my study group tomorrow (which was really just myself and another woman I know from class). I thought about the mountains of work I truly have to complete tomorrow and how I have a big test coming up and another one after that and another after that. I thought about how I will never get any of it done and how I’m hopeless.

I closed my eyes and squeezed hoping to bring myself back to the light show. When I did my ears received all my focus. I heard a song I recognized. Pink Floyd’s “Money” sang me back into the present but as soon as the song ended and the bright dollar signs faded away so did my attention.

I thought about something at least related to the light show this time. I thought about how we were probably burning our retinas. How we probably should have sprung for those laser viewing glasses made out of cardboard and plastic. I thought about how eye surgery will cost a lot more than what that cheap protective eyewear would have. I was probably doing years of damage in just an hour. But, the glasses weren’t required, I thought to myself, if it was a safety hazard they would have required them. I then had a competing thought of: Not necessarily, maybe they can’t make promises either way but if they offer the glasses you can’t sue.

I shook myself out of this thought. I was too skeptical. I tried to focus on the two bowtie shaped orbs moving around the planetarium screen. I looked over at my two friends wondering if they were here or if they were somewhere else like I was. I laid my head back on the headrest and there I went.

I found out tonight a couple of my friends went on a trip without me. They were doing something I wouldn’t have wanted to do yet I still felt left out. Nothing on them at all. I don’t feel left out because I wasn’t invited, I feel left out because I can’t enjoy things like that. Loud, crowded places, staying in a place that wasn’t home, letting someone else drive, all of these are difficult for me still, even with therapy and medication. I wish I could enjoy things like that, be with my friends. I love my friends. But, as I was proving at that very moment, I have a hard time appreciating where I’m at while I’m there so maybe I wasn’t the best person to invite anyway.

The planetarium filled with two rows of rectangles representing bricks. The ceiling was obviously round so there was some overlap with some of the bricks. I hated that. As another row of bricks came down and then another all with the same flaw of overlapping lines I found myself drawn to the imperfection. They probably thought no one would notice, but I did. The song became more recognizable to me as it got to the chorus and I soon realized I was listening to “Another Brick In The Wall.” This song kept me intrigued as I mouthed the words. I felt cool, like I was in the know for once and that was nice.

After that song the thought cycle continued with the same few topics and some new acts including “You spend too much money on stupid shit, your mom is going to hate you” and “How are you going to handle questions from your family over Thanksgiving?” Then the show ended. The house lights came up and I started to get up to go. I was exhausted but when my friends asked me what I thought I said I enjoyed it. This wasn’t a lie. What I was conscious for I enjoyed immensely, it’s just that my mind wasn’t there for a lot of it.

Mindfulness is a very important tool that you will find in many self help books about mental health and other things. It is something I suck at but it’s a skill. If I were to have practice mindfulness at the light show tonight I would have actually saw a light show and would have been filled with a lot less negative energy. Staying in the moment is so important but it’s not easy. My mind feels like it goes 1000 miles a minute most times and I know that a lot of my thoughts are not constructive so I wanted to tell on myself in this blog post. I need to work on mindfulness this is my call to action. If I write it in the blog I have to do it right? Hold me to it!

- The girl with the green glasses.

episode six // gloomy af

It’s days like today I remember why I started this blog. I need a place to put the dark stuff. It makes me nervous to share because I have now opened this blog to friends so, I hope they don’t judge.
It’s been one of those days where it feels like nothing can go right but, it’s been one of those days for the past month. I have tried to wish it away, laugh it off, I even tried to add a supplementary antidepressant but when it comes down to it, I need to accept, I’m depressed.
Depression happens whether shitty events happen in your life or not. My Depression usually happens coincidentally at the same time as a bunch of shitty events which could also be my perception because when I’m depressed my emotional immune system is low therefore shitty events effect me more. Either way, as life would have it, I’m going through a number of bullshit things that I will list:

1. My Car Accident last week (yes still frustrating me)
2. That foot that has been broken for months? Yeah finally putting me in a fracture boot and taking me out of work for a month which means no $$$
3. An old friend has popped back into my life ready to stir shit up as he does unintentionally of course
4. Some take on “He’s just not that into you” sprinkled with I’m an idiot and I let myself be played
5. Microbiology in general...that class fucking sucks
6. The antidepressant I tried to use to supplement my current regiment had side effects I could not handle so now I’m getting off it meaning whatever positive effects it was having on me are now gone
7. I don’t see jazz this week

All of these things individually I could handle but together plus depression looming seems too big to bear. These problems are all minuscule to what others deal with on the daily but this is my space...judge me if you must, I know I do.

So, here I am gloomy af, snapping at friends and family, having no ability to focus, and dreading any simple action with no way of knowing when any of it will end...and that’s the beauty of it. I have tried something new this time around. I’m not going to pity myself! Fuck that! Never works anyway just makes me judge myself more. But, I’m not going tough love either. It seems the best method for this type of feeling for me is be kind to myself.
Accept my shortcomings, allow me to feel what I’m feeling and don’t be afraid to have a bad fucking day because 50% of the time the world is a shitty place to be in. I constantly tell myself that there is no such thing as wasted time, which I believe, so if that time needs to be spent gloomy so the next can be better okay! Accept the gloom! Embrace it even! I think by addressing it and allowing it to live it may be able to pass quicker. Don’t give it so much attention instead give that attention to yourself and what you need to get through the gloom. Because, it will pass but you might have a better chance at learning something from it if you don’t feed it with more negative energy.
To be completely honest this is not where I️ saw this blog post going but I’m glad we are here now. I am more than my gloom but sometimes it consumes me and that’s okay I just need to learn from that. Feel it out so it goes away. I’ll cry and wail and it’ll suck but at-least I’m getting it out. Depression sucks man and that will always be there but the gloom doesn’t have to be. And I would say it can’t get worse but that’s not something I necessarily believe and something that the girl with the green glasses is trying not to do is lie. It can always get worse but it can also always get better.

- the girl with the green glasses
 

episode five // the donation correlation

"I'm thinking of donating my left kidney, thoughts?"

I've started a few conversations like this over the past few days mostly for comedic effect however, I've quite seriously considered it. It doesn't take much to convince me to do something to help others. I think, honestly, it's because I find my self worth in what I do for others and without these actions I don't know who I am. I'm just being honest but it sounds selfish. Like, I do these things only to make myself feel good and maybe that’s true. I mean that's what my OCD says that I'm actually exceptionally selfish and if the world only knew they would hate me. This is fraud complex at its finest, something I experience quite often and this kidney issue is no different.

I went to a documentary showing at a small theater downtown to support my friends mom. She helps run the transplant team at the big hospital in our area so she asked if I would go. It was about this couple that matched on tinder and one of them had lupus and needed a kidney and the other fell in love with the girl with lupus after three dates and wanted to give her her kidney. The documentary followed their journey through surgery and left me feeling like "I could do that."

It was only a matter of time until I was thinking timelines and when I could have the surgery and I decided the best time would be after nursing school unless I get rejected from the program this semester and have to reapply in which case I could do it in January and recover throughout that time. This whirled around my head for two days after I watched that movie. And I went into work still thinking about it and brought it up to my coworkers. Initially two of them joked about how I should just sell it and make a lot of money. The third felt the seriousness in my voice and almost immediately tried to deter me from my thought process. I think the most interesting part of it is that she did.

I've realized that I can be wishy washy. I don't stand my ground on most things even if I know I'm right. I have trouble differentiating between if this is a product of my personality or OCD but, honestly, those are sometimes hand in hand so either way it's a product of me being me. My coworker’s argument was that I didn't know how my health was going to be in the future or my family's so why would I give it to a complete stranger if my gift for them could turn into a curse for me. That's a completely valid argument but, it's a relatively selfish one. It's simple math, I have two kidneys and I need one and someone else has none and needs one therefore I give them one of mine. Simple until you start thinking about why one does this. THIS IS WHAT GETS ME EVERYTIME.

Intention. Something that has haunted me for years. Am I a good person? Or am I just trying to look like a good person? Does it matter as long as you're doing it? My OCD grips onto intention with ironclad strength and refuses to let go. I get into serious thought storms about it where I’m fighting to tell myself that I’m ok, that I’m a good person, trying to fit myself into that box when in reality good and bad are subjective and are relatively undefinable. I don’t know if someone can be good or bad honestly who knows.

So where does this leave me? I’m keeping my kidney for now but, I signed up for the bone marrow registry, you can regenerate that it’s not as drastic. I’ll continue to donate blood and I’ll keep doing things that make me feel good hopefully that will be enough. I need to start trusting my own opinion. When it comes down to it I’m the only one who knows what’s right for me and the right decision is whatever one I make. I stick to this saying that there’s no such thing as wasted time and I think this relates to that. There’s really no such thing as a bad decision when the two things you are deciding between are both decent. It takes the pressure off which is what I need to do for myself. I will never really be able to determine whether I’m a good person or not...giving up a kidney won’t change that.

- the girl with the green glasses

episode four // accidents happen

I was turning onto campus today and didn’t see the black Volkswagen coming my way and scraped the fuck out of it with my gray subraru. I backed up and followed him into the parking lot where he and I exchanged info. Me shaking nearly in tears and him obviously peeved and with good reason. I didn’t see him, I just didn’t see him.

Car accidents suck, but as a friend pointed out their called accidents for a reason, they aren’t intentional. I’ve gone through all the necessary steps, contacted my insurance company etc. and along with the normal guilt that comes with something like this, my own thoughts have continued to beat down on me as well. I’m so worn emotionally from it, thankfully no one was hurt but I feel like I’m never going to live this down.

I keep reliving it over and over, the actual crash and the aftermath. I’m reading into everything he said and everything I did. One thing is, I have a lot of bumper stickers on my car and some are on my windows so I initially thought that was going to get me in trouble. And when I said “this is my first accident” he looked at me with that “really?!” face, probably referring to my car covered in adhesive pictures as if that is an indication of the kind of driver I am. I know I am making an assumption about him making an assumption, I make a lot of assumptions. But, at the end of the day I can’t help but walk around school feeling like everyone knows what happened and is judging me. Every look, every whisper, my brain immediately thinks they must know, he told them all. This of course is impossible and this feeling will fade over time but I can’t say that if I see him on campus the feelings won’t just come flooding back.

My car is obnoxious but I love it. The stickers represent parts of me and for someone who has a hard time identifying who they are it’s good to have something concrete like my car to come back to. I get embarrassed sometimes but usually shake it off because of how proud I am. What I’m not proud about is the damage I did today. My poor Subaru, the passenger door unable to open all the way, a quarter panel hanging off and the bumper not looking so hot either, I feel guilty. I just have to keep telling myself that accidents happen.

Another part is me, my health. I have a head ache and have had one all day since the accident. I was concerned that maybe I knocked something loose during the accident. My OCD started telling me I might be dying. After this initial thought and after stirring on it for a bit I was walking out of the mall and had a second thought, that I was glad I had returned the clothes I did. I was thinking that if I did die it would be one less thing for my family to deal with...who the fuck thinks like that. I don’t know but concussion or no, my headache is persistent but I didn’t hit it and I didn’t have dizziness or anything so I think I’m fine...hopefully.

I had another post planned for today that will most likely go up later this week. I just felt this was important to get out. I’m sad about my car and I’m terrified that the guy I hit is going to come after me or I’m gonna run into him at school or something, but the anxiety is manageable tonight. No one got hurt during the accident but, I’ll be feeling this mental exhaustion for weeks possibly, there’s no insurance for your mind unfortunately.

- the girl with the green glasses

episode three // all that jazz

Hello blog how are things? Haven't seen ya in a bit. You know who else I haven't seen? My therapist! I slept through my appointment this week unfortunately and was disappointed about it which may not seem like a big deal to a lot of people which is why I wanted to write this post.

I've been in therapy on and off since I was five. My mom is a recovering alcoholic and when she knew she needed to quit she wanted to find someone I could talk to. So, there I was at my first therapy appointment. I don't remember much of it except she made me cry and I didn't go back so it's no wonder why I was afraid of therapy until I got older. I know I started therapy again before 6th grade but I don't remember exactly when but, it had to be before 6th because that’s when I started being medicated (by my pediatrician then later a psychiatrist). This started my speed dating like expedition to find the right therapist...and it was arduous.

I would go for a while and not feel the connection that would motivate me to return and I'd just say that I was better. This cycle was pretty consistent until I got into high school and met my guidance counselor. She was not a mental health counselor or psychologist but she could have fooled me. She was and still is a wonderful part of my life. It was around this same time I found my psychiatrist and things seemed to be in harmony. I mean there were things that my guidance counselor couldn't do that a psychologist could but having been through the mill so many times I was happy to find anyone I could relate to. She ended up leaving my school my junior year and my senior year I had an amazing teacher that stepped in to help. All of these people stepped in this “therapist” position and they both contributed so much and still do but, unfortunately when I went to college then came home after a week due to my anxiety and depression (something I'm sure I'll address later in the blog) the role changed and required someone who knew a bit more about psychological disorders. This is where Jazz came in (Not her real name).

Jazz was a psychologist my dad found while he was doing his whole "we tried your mother’s way now it's my turn" deal. Thankfully it was a perfect fit and we have been working together for two years now. She truly has saved my life on many occasions and there is nothing I look forward to more than to sit down on her couch and talk and hear what she has to say.
I saw a meme the other day that was like "I couldn't go to therapy I don't know what I would talk about" and to that I say just try it when you find the right fit you won't be able to stop talking and that's what's happened to me and Jazz.

When I first started I was twice a week which is more than most people start with, then for a while it was once a week and most recently due to lack of need and scheduling, we have turned to every other week. If I didn't also have group therapy (yes I'm in group therapy too I liked therapy so much I wanted to do it with others) I don't know if I could survive but, my therapist is also available via email and call which has come in handy on nights when my OCD won't stop. However, what I've noticed is Jazz has given me the tools to get through a lot of panic. Yes, I know that's her job but she's hella sneaky about it. Being a therapy veteran I have in the past gotten good at telling therapists what they want to hear. It always lands me in emotional turmoil every time but we all avoid things at times and I'm no different. But, Jazz don't fuck with that. She is persistent and brilliant and has somehow made me a functional human being and I will thank her everyday for it. My therapist is my support system and I think everyone should have a Jazz in their lives but, I know they are hard to find. My biggest piece of advice is if you’re debating going to therapy, don't just go for one session. You won't know if it’s a good fit you don't go for at least two and if it's not that's fine there are plenty of therapists glad to listen one of which could be your Jazz.

By the way Jazz had a cancellation tomorrow so I'll be going in anyway but this post is still relevant!

Don't give up!

Find your Jazz!

- the girl with the green glasses

episode two // shame for nothing

Hello blog ready for post two? If you have ever wondered what it's like to live with OCD keep reading because the overthinking I'm doing right now is CLASSIC OCD behavior and it makes sense because at its core OCD is a thought disorder.

So basically I had a great night out with friends at a local restaurant. We all had a great time and then right at the end of the night I said something. ONE THING that I second guessed and now I can't think about anything else. This night will be overshadowed by the last thing I said and it wasn't even that big a deal. I basically told a friend that he owed me a coffee date because he had to bail last time we scheduled. It was supposed to be in a teasing manner and I thought it was but it came out kinda cringey and now it's all I can think about. This happens a lot where I say something I regret and it happens to many people but most people can let it go. Meanwhile, I'm still stewing over when I called this guy at work "her" on complete accident a few months and he probably doesn't even remember it.

So, what if my friend was weirded out what's the worst thing. I'm embarrassed right that's it? That's the logical answer my answer is much more complicated. It involves "he'll never talk to me again" and "he will think I'm so weird" and "I hate myself" just spinning around and around until I'm sick to my stomach over a two second interaction. My OCD doesn't want me to feel safe or comfortable and just as I was starting to it threw a curve ball. I'm handling it better than I used to that's for sure but I haven't found the coping strategy to fix that feeling in my gut of shame for nothing. This "shame for nothing" concept also came up as I was talking to friends the other night too. I was talking about my school situation. I came home from my first college after a week because my OCD and anxiety were out of control and I had serious thoughts of ending my life. Going to school and being miserable was hard but coming home and dealing with the shame was worse. You would think that shame could prepare me for one two second interaction gone wrong but obviously we haven't learned.

Anyway that's just background information the real story is that I said out loud at the coffee shop the other night, different than two second interaction night, in front of my new college friends that the reason I came home from my first college was because I was experiencing severe anxiety and said the magic words that I wanted to kill myself so I became a liability to the school and sent me home. I said it nonchalantly and didn't think much of it until after it came out of my mouth. I'm not ashamed of what happened but I felt shame for bringing it up in such a casual setting. That ate at me the rest of that night and the next day until I went to an event on suicide awareness that was held through a local National Alliance on Mental Illness Affiliate. The speaker there talked about stigma and how we perpetuate our own stigma. We stigmatize ourselves by not talking about it the way I did at the coffee shop. I spoke to him after and explained what happened and he was so validating and understanding he said something along the lines of as soon as we present ourselves confidently others will feel more comfortable talking about it which in turn destroys stigma one person at a time. The shame melted away from me. Sure there were going to be some people that were rude and didn't understand but I'm sharing my story I'm not the one perpetrating stigma they are.

So tell me why I can talk about taboo things like suicidal thoughts in public and move on from it maybe even feel emboldened by it but, once I say something slightly cringey to a boy and I melt.

OCD man it's a confusing bitch.

- the girl with the green glasses

episode one // an introduction

Hi I am the girl with green glasses, well kind of…

I am a girl and I own green glasses now but, to me this concept of "the girl with green glasses" is a hopeful self-portrait. She is what I want to be, confident, caring, optimistic and unrestricted. I, in my current state, am quite the opposite of this. I live with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and its trusty sidekick depression. I let it run my life at times, it makes for great dark poetry but very poor self-esteem. The girl with green glasses isn't without OCD but understands how to manage it. She is the protagonist in her story, casting her OCD as the antagonist. But she has come to realize that the villain in her story is as much a part of her as her arms and legs. She is not afraid of her villain and knows that a story without conflict is unrealistic and quite boring so she owns her journey.

This blog will include anecdotes about my life and some poems because I’m still an angsty teen on the inside. They will most likely be coupled with a photo, maybe a basic white girl photo of my feet or maybe something else. WHO KNOWS THIS BLOG IS UNPLANNED. I honestly got the idea from my friend...we will call her Selena because she would love that shit...she started a blog for a class but, I feel like she can actually have an interesting blog. Me? I don’t know. I didn’t even tell her I was starting a blog until we were sitting here at our local Monday night coffee place and she glanced over at my screen and gave me that “you go girl” look. I’m sure I’ll be hearing about it tomorrow.

Anyway I’m surviving my 20th year of living currently, It’s great! My OCD is under decent control...except when it isn’t, I have college friends finally...except when they get wild, and school is amazing...except microbiology. SO OVERALL GREAT. But, that’s the thing this blog will hopefully see both sides the pretty green grass and the gravelly sidewalk; because that’s reality and a story not often told. This blog is a place for me to be as honest with myself as I can be while also learning to not judge my thoughts and feelings. I hope that as you read this blog you also can learn to be kinder to yourself and hopefully I can also make you laugh along the way.

Here goes nothing,

- the girl with the green glasses