Embracing my Darkness...

There can be no light without darkness, and no darkness without light...

I love the dark...always have...

Most people are afraid of the dark, associating it with evil, sadness, hidden dangers and yes, many of those things do live in the dark, but they also live in the light, unseen because people refuse to see it.

Even I was once afraid of the dark, but not anymore.

At least in the dark, if your smart you stay wary. You keep your senses sharp, your eyes open, and that same darkenss that hides the predators can shield you from them.

It's all about perspective...

While many people seek the spotlight, I prefer the shadows, while others love the day, I blossom at night.

To me darkness is freedom...

Thats not to say I don't love light.
I do.
When the day is cool and dry and the sun shining, it does make me happy and it energizes me. Sunlight invigorates me and I don't think I could live without the sun. It's all about balance. I appreciate the sun, it's just I become truly myself at night.

I just come alive in the dark.

When the lights go out, all my troubsome thoughts and insecurities seems to vanish, and what is left is the rawest, purest part of me.

I become bold, confident, mischevious. The darkness becomes my friend, confidant, companion.

Whenever I'm out and the lights go out, blackout, brownout, fuse blown, my heart begings to race and I can't help but smile.

Maybe that's a part of why I love thunderstorms. They bring together my two loves, darkenss and water.

Ever since I was little and even still to this day the blackness becomes a canvas for my mind to paint upon making anything possible.

For instance my talents truly come alive when the sun sets. 

I work better, write better, draw better. My mind becomes awake, clear of daytimes fog.

One of my favorate games as a kid was hiding in the closet and just sitting in the dark. 

Sounds weird I know, but it's true.

At first I tried with blankets or sofa forts, but there was always issues. 

To get the right level of darkness I needed a lot of blankets, but then the blankets would become too heavy making breathing and moving an issue. Next came sofa forts. I loved my sofa forts, but I could never quite get them light tight enough. Plus the added issue of them being in the living room which was a high traffic area.

Finally I took to sitting in the closet.

The closet was perfect. It was light tight, I could breath and move. The only issue was having to sit on uncomfortable shoes, but that was only a minor annoyance.

I loved sitting in there watching my eyes adjust to the darkness. Being able to see and hear what others could not.

I would lose time in there.

For me my memories are filled with wonderful moments in the dark.

Dances, lounges, shooting stars, every full moon, swimming in the ocean at night, a stolen kiss in a darkened room.

Sitting in the dark my senses take hold and I feel like I can see better then when there is light. 

I can feel the air currents, the heat that comes off my skin and that radiates off of others. I can hear the soft breathing of those around me, the sharp flap of bird wings on the air as well as an ambulance blocks away. I can smell the conditioner in my hair, the sweet smell of charcoal coming from a park BBQ, as well as the recent fresh smell of rain.

But whats interesting is that all those things I mentioned...all those things that used to only happen to me in the dark, are now coming into the light. As I allow myself to truly be myself as I embrace and except myself and my love of the dark, I find that I can bring the wonders of my dark experences into the light. My confidence has grown, my senses are sharper then they've ever been, I'm bolder, louder, stronger.

Yet though my day time experences have gotten better, there is still nothing better then a stolen kiss in the dark...unless there's also a thunderstorm...lol

Chemistry Anxiety Apocalypse: Old Phobias Back from the DEAD!!

So this is going to be a quick blog addressing one of the main reasons I haven't been able to write lately and for a change it doesn't revolve around my physical health.

They say when you get closet to your goal is when the universe decides to up the chaos and make life more difficult. This semester is a perfect example of how true that is.
I am only two semesters and 4 classes away from graduating and I am currently taking the college level chemistry course that will allow me to take those classes, but as luck would have it, my professor was not on his game this semester.

Though I was doing the required readings, the homework, the suggested practice problems, and even extra work, I couldn't for the life of me pass his exams. The first one was interrupted by a fire drill which didn't help matters, but each consecutive exam and quiz (except 1 where I got a 90) had questions on it that I couldn't answer, that I didn't recognize, and I was getting grades in the 60's.
At first I thought I was doing something wrong, that I wasn't taking proper notes, or that I was studying all wrong, but as it turned out I wasn't the only one having issues. Slowly in the background I would hear urgent whispers, then after the next exam those whispers turned to muted agitated voices, and finally to openly loud exclamations all with the same theme.

His exams were ridiculously hard!

Now I know college isn't supposed to be easy, and my particular major of Biotechnology is supposed to be hard. I've had my share of teachers that have made me work extra hard or on my own but this is a completely different animal all together. The questions on his exams were either worded in confusing ways, purposely tricky, were made up of questions we never covered, were multi-layered involving equations we didn't know we had to use, or if we did cover it, it was one problem done only one way and the exam was asking us to do it backwards.
It was insane and slowly each student was realizing they weren't the only ones feeling defeated. 

At first I ignored the talk because sometimes people just want classes to be easy so they can get that easy A, and are usually not interested in actually learning the subject, but as their words creeped in under my noise-canceling headphones, I realized it was the opposite.

These were students like me.

Students with high gpa's who enjoyed science and math, but felt like they were being punked every exam. Needless to say, after 2 exams, and 3 quizes, I was battle worn and ready to hang up my towel. I was getting a 99 in my lab, had no big issues with the material, but it felt like we were being asked to run a marathon when we had barely learned to crawl. But this marathon triggered an old phobia I thought was long past me. 

Back in high school I had exam phobia that would cause my mind to go blank and once again it had reared it's ugly head. Each consecutive low score made me scramble and as each test got nearer, my anxiety made my mind shut down. It was as if my mind had turned to quicksand. The more I fought, the harder I studied, the worse my anxiety would get, and the quicker my mind would go blank on the exam.

So spring break comes and goes, with me unable to study for exam #3 because I was now having blanking episodes at home. It was as if everything I had learned was being systematically wiped from my memory with every anxiety attack. My only saving grace being the chemistry extra credit paper I had to write, which would then proceed to get deleted 2 days before being due, forcing me to preform a 48 hour miracle while making sure I was properly exhausted on exam day.

Then on exam day as I'm sitting like a zombie in my honors society meeting, I look at the school calender and realize that I still have 1 day before I loose the ability to drop my class with a grade of W. (For those of you who don't know, your allowed up until a certain date to drop a class with a W which will not affect your gpa but will show up as a W on your transcript).

So here I am, completely wiped, waiting to take an exam I am wholeheartedly dreading, and I'm now considering dropping the class.

Not the best thing to contemplate on no sleep.

I spoke to my friends, and even called my mother to get her opinion. Everyone agreed that maybe dropping the class was the right choice and that I didn't need the added stress on my health, but with each agreement, though I felt less weight on my shoulders, I felt somthing hitch in the center of my chest.

I don't like giving up. Never have.

Some would call that stubborn, but yet others would call it just my warrior's spirit.

So I decided to wait it out.

I chose to take the exam, see if the professor made any changes to his approach since I last spoke to him about my issues, and hope that I could find a way to melt my mental ice block.

The exam started off well. I knew what to do for the first 5 problems but as 6 and 7 approched, my mind started to loose stability. I began to doubt my answers, my work, and even how to start the problem. The knowledge became wisps of intangible smoke sliding between my fingers everytime I attempted to grasp it. When the time was finally up and I left the room, I knew I had failed yet another test.
As I mindlessly walked away from the school my mind wandered. Do I give up? Do I take everything that I've accomplished, both good and bad, and flush it down the toilet? Will it really be better for me?

After spending the evening contemplating my educational fate I decided finally to stick it out. I knew if I stayed I wouldn't get my A but at least I would know I didn't give up, and if I had to retake the class, so be it.

Well, to make what should have been a short story shorter, I fought for every ounce of credit I could, doing so well on my extra credit paper that he wanted a copy to keep, and fought tooth and nail  to a B.

I was so sure I was failing the class I even registered for it again over the summer, but when I saw my grade it felt better then all of my A's put together.

I don't know what his deal was. If he was distracted by his research, or was just being a dick because some of my classmates kept pointing out his mistakes and asked too many questions.

I did find out he has been one of the leading teachers who helped to establish undergraduate research, and that he was super busy with a biotechnology seminar he was putting together all on top of his own research project.

I think he realized he was spread too thin as well because at the end of the semester he told us we would be his last CHE 202 class. He would only be teaching organic chemistry from now on.

I don't know what the fall semester will bring, I don't know if this resurgence of my old phobia will continue to haunt me. But what I do know is that I'm not giving up.

I will do what I can, as best I can, but I do know one thing...I WILL keep fighting.

Making an Attempt to Write Again

Photo by Laura Williams
You can find more of her amazing work here:
 On her blog: Climb the Rainbow
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and on Society 6 if you'd like to Buy Prints

So at this very moment I am sitting on my bed, with a tissue sticking out of my left nostril to keep another bloody nose at bay, attempting to write a blog entry into my iPad without my glasses.

I don't really know what to say. I can't answer why it's been so long since I wrote a blog entry other then I just haven't been able to write.

Life took over...

Between school, my health, family trouble, men dodging, psycho ex boyfriends, new friends, incompetent scholarships administration, and my daily struggles with my flip flopping insecurities, I haven't been able to express it in words other then multilingual expletives. 

But if there's one thing I can talk about now, its that I'm trying to regain my self-worth and how I'm beginning to learn to see myself differently.

Being a overweight 32 year old (though I keep telling people I'm 33 for some reason) college student is a lot harder then I thought, and when I say hard I don't mean the school work. I mean the constant bubbling up of all my old teenage baggage. My self-image hangups, my need for people to like me, my need for perfection, my anal retentive patterns, and my fallback mode of self-destructive self sabotage.

I kept feeding myself the lie that if I were thinner, in a relationship, had my degree, had a steady good paying job, that I would finally be confident and happy, but that's a load of crap.
I wanna be thin because it would make others more acceptable of me. I want to be thin because that's what other people want and if you don't want what other people want then your labeled defective. I want to be thin because the guys I'm attracted to are not attracted to women like me. I want a degree because I don't want to be looked down upon, I don't want people to say that I'm less then them and I want a steady good paying job for the same damn reason.

I mean What The FUCK!
(and yes I am fully aware that most of what I just said revolved around my weight...:-/)

That is the shit that runs through my head and I am embarrassed by it. I am embarrassed by the absurdity of my own thoughts. The juvenile girly shit I loathe in others I am spewing into my own head.

How is it I am buying into this crap?

I rationalize it by telling myself that I have to loose weight for my health, or that I'm getting my degree because I want to learn, or that I want a good steady job so I can pay my bills. But when you remove all the frilly lace, the bows, and you strip down the paint, it's the same piece of crap reasons they've always been, the need to be accepted.

It's horrible to realize that the free thinking, independent, non-corporate, person you thought you were, is nothing more then a costume that comes crumbling down like face paint during a summer heat wave, and that's what college has done to me. Made me realize that I never dealt with my issues, just covered them up in increasing amounts of body-fat and some sort of self induced Stockholm syndrome.

But the crazy part is, around the same time I realized this about myself was the same time I realized it was no longer true.

I first noticed it a few days ago at a high school friends birthday get together. Here I was in my nightmare scenario, by myself at a party filled with fashion insiders, models, and photographers. My high school friend who is a model herself and is dressed to the nines, introduces me to all her friends and coworkers, and the casual chit chat among strangers begins. In that moment I told myself "fuck it" I may not belong here among these beautiful people but I didn't come here for them, I came here for my friend. So I waded in head first into social shark territory deciding to be my natural, honest, and joke cracking self  in the same way I normally am with my friend. I didn't worry about my foul mouth, or my lack of fashion knowledge. I didn't care because it didn't matter. Then a few hours later I'm standing in a little group of models with my friend standing next to me, just talking and cracking jokes about the issues of living in NY when my friend just asks them out of nowhere "isn't she beautiful?" which was in reference to me. Without hesitation these tall women of fashion land agreed with her.
I was dumbfounded.
Not one condescending back handed complement. Not one role of the eyes or moments hesitation. Not one mention of having a pretty face, nice hair, or pretty eyes, all complements above the chin (which to me has always been the not so secret code for "cute but fat"). Not one word replacement of beautiful with sweet, or charming. Just complete honest agreement with no jokes thrown in.

Sure, it was nice to be labeled beautiful by a bunch of fashion models (yes the acceptance thing again...), but what surprised me was that they weren't talking about just my outward appearance, but me as a whole overstuffed enchilada. For the first time strangers were complementing me for being me. I was being accepted because I wasn't trying to be accepted.

Yea, call me confused. 

But then again it made sense. The people I am drawn to. The people I see as beautiful or intriguing are usually the people who are confident in themselves and are not trying to be something that they're not. The people I've always found to be beautiful are not the people who are the cookie cutter "nice looking" model types but the people who are unique, interesting, and owning it. And somehow, on that night, I became one of those people. Granted I lost that confidence power-up the very next day (no miracles here) but now I know what it feels like, and it has opened my eyes.

I realized that over my time in college and probably even a little before that when I first fell ill, I started to see myself in a new way. I started to like myself for who and am, as I am, without even knowing it, and it's only now that my change in self view is beginning to show through on the surface. I started to appreciate things about myself as the challenges I faced made me learn more about who I truly am. It's hard to explain but I had to face the hard truth behind my motivations in order for me to see the positive changes I had already, unconsciously made.

I spent so many years only focusing on the negative things I wanted to change, that I never truly got to know me as a person and going to college has forced me to face myself, find myself, and for the first time in my life I can truly say I like me.

So here's to "in keeping with the situation!..." (quote from a favorite movie of mine)

Quick Blog: Ex-Boyfriend Wont take NO for an Answer!

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Saccharine Sweet Sentimental Garbage

I look back.

Vibration of a V engine,

mechanical thunder,

and my breath catches.

Glimpses of cream colored memories

in apple scented leather,

and my pulse races.

Sly smiles of

cigarettes and sage.

The weight of it presses down. 

Lustful mocha colored eyes,

pain and power,

fold my weakened knees. 

Bending bruised heart,

reopened wound,

my doubt rebounded.

I stop.

Eyes forward,

chin lifted,

I take my breath back.

Hands open,

back straightened,

my pulse slows.

Muscles tighten,

rib cage is lifted,

my strength returns.

With bruised knees,

and a battered heart,

my fingers stanch the hemorrhage.

I step forward.

A Long Time Coming...Spring Semester & Surgery...

To say I am tired is an understatement of unbelievable scope.
Besides finishing my spring semester, I've also undergone surgery to remove the breast tissue from underneath my right armpit.

After getting sick this past spring semester, I discovered something rather disturbing. As I got well all of my lymph nodes went down except the ones in my right armpit forming a lump. At first I didn't pay it any mind thinking it was just a weird reaction my body was undergoing to being ill. I just figured it would eventually go away. Well, it didn't.
In fact as time went on it got larger (about the size of a golf ball) and notably painful to the point that simply touching it or putting on my bra became minor torture.  It was especially bad when I was PMSing due to the area swelling even more. I tried to perform the normal self check looking for nodules and I could sort of feel a few, but the pain prevented me from doing a proper check. The more pressure I placed on the area, the worse the pain got, and the more it would swell.

During all this time at school I was undergoing finals, papers, presentations, and projects, so the added stress of not knowing what was going on with me took it's toll. I kept thinking about my uncle and his lump that turned out to be lymphoma so of course my lump began to play on my mind as well.

I eventually went to see my surgeon, the one who had performed my other biopsy in a similar location on my left side, and after examining me he told me that it had to come out. He didn't think it was anything to truly worry about, but because it was growing and causing me pain, the best course of action was to remove it and test it to be absolutely sure. So this past Thursday May 23, 2013, I went under general anesthesia, and the knife to remove the lump of breast tissue. First time I had ever been put to sleep for a procedure, and it went really well. I still wonder if I said anything while unconscious, but I'll have to ask the doctor when I see him a week from tomorrow.

Now I'm undergoing recovery, and it isn't easy. My underarm is encased in a pressure dressing which is packed with gauze. I am not allowed to lift heavy things, or extend my arm too far in order to avoid opening the wound which is in a tricky spot. I haven't been allowed to bathe, until today which I am greatly looking forward to.
I'm ok with pain until I do some movement I'm not supposed to do which I find out because I'm hit with a deep slow sharp pain that catches me off guard. Also instead of the pain getting better, it's actually gotten worse over the last few days as my wound begins to mend from the inside out and my underarm hairs begin to grow back in under the dressing. Today even the gentle pull of gravity caused me enough minor discomfort that eventually it took it's toll and I had to lie down.
I find myself super hungry and tired for no apparent reason, but I suspect that it's all due to my body using up a lot of energy to heal itself.

I decided to get it done now because one, I was afraid to wait any longer, and two, because now that my spring semester is over I have a week off to heal before I head back for summer classes on June 3rd.

Sometimes I think I'm crazy for doing as much as I do. But each step brings me closer to my future, and so far I'm doing a pretty good job. Got another set of straight A's this past Spring semester, even with all the lump drama. So I'm feeling pretty good about where I'm headed, even if that future requires a little sacrifice of flesh and pain. Just taking it one step at a time....

WTH: Pre-Spring Semester in Seclusion....

This is the first of a few backlogged posts that I didn't have time to get to...
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The moment the holiday season hits with thanksgiving my life starts its speed round but this year it was worse.

Having some of my more difficult finals coincide with the holidays and quite a few birthday was like adding an accelerant to a Greek fire. By the end of my fall semester (officially the end to my first year) I had completely burnt myself out.

My kickboxing went out the window replaced by hours of essays, papers, lab reports, studying, and math exercises and when the dust had settled I was in a full on Fibromyalgia crisis. I stayed home almost my whole break only going out for holidays and birthdays. Then when I thought I was getting better I got hit by some sort of semi-flu. It's what happens when you get infected with a bad strain of the flu but you don't quite get sick because you got the flu shot, so your body becomes the battleground and you suffer from some of the physical symptoms without the fever and vomiting. Not sure if my Fibromyalgia exasperated it but it was bad. My lymph-nodes on the entire right side of my upper body were so swollen that it actually caused me pain to move. Like fingers of pain reaching from my lower right jaw and behind my right ear, around the back of my head, down my neck and right shoulder, into my armpit spreading around my back and down my arm. The pain and swelling alone caused constant headaches and stiff necks which I haven't suffered from since I was a kid.

As of this writing I'm finally feeling better. I have energy again, most of the symptoms have gone except lingering neck and head pains, and I've gained back the weight I had lost, all just in time for the beginning of the spring semester...lol...