tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12826770508796172082024-03-18T21:16:21.247-07:00Some Are MadeKylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.comBlogger80125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-49132246281742876322014-11-08T17:16:00.000-08:002014-11-08T17:16:00.858-08:00Criticize Me Some More!Not everyone has to work hard for what they have. Just those that really deserve it.<br />
<br />At least, that's what I'm trying to tell myself lately. I'm feeling less than motivated this season, seeing as I've been pretty sick and had lots of personal troubles to trip me up. But that's life, right?<br />
<br />
I'm still deciding most of my new plan for changing things. It seems I'm in excess of things I want to change, but not in the time it takes to change them. Hmm. Sacrifices are going to have to be made. Life will have to change.<br />
<br />
Have I ever expected it to come easily? Did I ever expect making myself into something great to come naturally, without effort or work?<br />
<br />
In that vein, I'd like to ask you, dear readers, for your opinions. Please tell me of any and all flaws you see in my writing. And hold nothing back! I welcome your criticism. I won't lie and say it won't sting, but it's for a good cause: my own self-improvement.<br />
<br />
So, please, criticize away!Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-87343480379246182682014-09-30T20:40:00.000-07:002014-09-30T20:42:44.026-07:00Victim No More<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTnzzovlEl8iACnd9vaHByFslrXqPuy_F6R7yIxEOvbgNXJiqrKKgXg83lLtbhmy-J5IVUcbE_jbx6Cywv1IAwBNEcHCNFIU7mtUgnqIKGM_aFf21DCLOZrHsQdMoLNWYMGpONeCxurPY/s1600/avictimofyourownmind.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTnzzovlEl8iACnd9vaHByFslrXqPuy_F6R7yIxEOvbgNXJiqrKKgXg83lLtbhmy-J5IVUcbE_jbx6Cywv1IAwBNEcHCNFIU7mtUgnqIKGM_aFf21DCLOZrHsQdMoLNWYMGpONeCxurPY/s1600/avictimofyourownmind.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
I've lost sight of my goals and my desires so many times. And far too often I blame the things that happen to me. Of course, those things do effect me. But they effect my mind, and that is the true ruling factor of my life.<br />
<br />
I have been a victim of my mind my whole life. I've let it lead me away from the things I truly want. I've let it deviate my course, cut me down right when I begin to see the beauty of success, and I have no one to blame but myself.<br />
<br />
Such strange creatures we are. A bag of chemicals and electrical impulses sharing space with this strange thing we call consciousness. And yet, our consciousness has such limited control over those chemicals and electrical impulses. They do what they were made to do, and sometimes that is much to our detriment. Consciously, we see what we want and do what we can to get it. But our minds, they are such fickle things. I often wonder: of what use is consciousness, if we do not even understand what we are trying to control?<br />
<br />
But I digress. The point is, our own minds are usually our greatest enemy when it comes to the quests of the soul. I want to be and do so many things. But my mind and body keep getting in the way. Is there a way to bring these two things into balance? A way to synchronize what I want with what I have?<br />
<br />
I'm determined to try. Dear readers, if you're still out there, reading this, I want you to know: I haven't given up. My vision of how to get where I want to be has changed quite a lot since I last posted here. Even some of the idea of WHAT I want has changed. But I'm still here, working away, trying to change, and make myself into a better person.<br />
<br />
I'm only human, and that's something I'm going to have to come to terms with. But, somehow, my conscious mind is going to make this bag of chemicals and electrical impulses follow this quest to the end. It may be a twisted path, but I am determined to walk it.Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-53756786282955009252013-07-21T20:26:00.000-07:002013-07-21T20:26:22.186-07:00A Debt Of Happiness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP14IP93B_N19s3MgVqeeRVDO1-46Vq0jrTdi9JztGHsUqLPiPj14SqejKgp6ySCLvhUu9mlydH-vzsoS5dR1jkaXp-aiyxNv9AavRxz-P8xYZGsZ_jhqgnnlumDT3NmvVJCncA7ye0Qjn/s1600/middleofeverydifficulty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP14IP93B_N19s3MgVqeeRVDO1-46Vq0jrTdi9JztGHsUqLPiPj14SqejKgp6ySCLvhUu9mlydH-vzsoS5dR1jkaXp-aiyxNv9AavRxz-P8xYZGsZ_jhqgnnlumDT3NmvVJCncA7ye0Qjn/s320/middleofeverydifficulty.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've been listening to my friends lately. A lot of them are having a lot of problems in life. What drives me crazy is how they complain about it, do nothing, and just make themselves more miserable in the complaining.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now, I like to talk. So, I talk about my problems, too. I talk about my good days, I talk about my bad days, and I talk about the incredible days, whether those be incredibly bad or incredibly good. I especially talk about the things that make good stories. I complain, too. Boy, do I complain. But I laugh as I complain, find the humor and then <i>do something</i>. And I ALWAYS stay determined to be happy, regardless of what life throws at me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have moments where I can't find a way to make myself be happy, but they never last long. I perk back up, and I fight another day.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You see, a long time ago, I learned something. The world is not going to make me happy. Life is not going to make me happy. People are not going to make me happy. Any happiness I ever find in those things, will be short-lived and inter-spaced with so much pain, I might even forget it ever existed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>But I can make MYSELF happy, no matter what.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the end, it's each and every one of us' job to ensure our own happiness. The world does not owe us that happiness. Life does not owe us happiness. Other people do not owe us happiness. It's nice if those things see fit to give it to us, but it certainly isn't owed. The only person meant to make you happy, is you.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you can find an opportunity to be happy in every difficulty, you'll always be happy. And there is always an opportunity. You just have to look. </span>Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-20131980306810258192013-07-10T11:52:00.000-07:002013-07-10T11:52:08.673-07:00Motivation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7bpF1-Uk707MbyD0w9SKJgH47s91GGVfT6XV9MtIIOx3BDURxT9y6AddLH_-u1Xr2zXCHOzUGGpw6Tcno_DnFy1wsvR4sxcBfeHP4pKHCtf_9qL_-HhUPBQsMcKcYUzpqpNdibor-SYg/s1600/abilitymotivation&attitude.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7bpF1-Uk707MbyD0w9SKJgH47s91GGVfT6XV9MtIIOx3BDURxT9y6AddLH_-u1Xr2zXCHOzUGGpw6Tcno_DnFy1wsvR4sxcBfeHP4pKHCtf_9qL_-HhUPBQsMcKcYUzpqpNdibor-SYg/s1600/abilitymotivation&attitude.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's hard to tell the difference between motivation and ability sometimes. So often, if I lose all motivation, I say I <i>can't</i> do it. And I can list a whole host of reasons why I <i>can't</i> do it, too.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But the truth is, I <i>can</i>. I just don't really want to.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Which sounds horrible. The truth often does, of course, but there you have it. I don't want to get back on track and do my routine again.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have a lot of motivation to achieve what I want. Sometimes. But then something happens, and suddenly I don't care. Nothing really matters to me for a while, and I have to drag myself out of the depressing pit where nothing matters, and back to the motivated, want-to-succeed person I really am.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I got my motivation back a short while ago. I started my routine back up. I hadn't quite made it to the blogging stage when the boy who raped me came back to my place of work and asked me if I was pregnant.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And just like that, motivation dropped to nothing.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I hate to admit something like this has such power over me. I hate to think how just a single meeting can change the course of my life completely. I want to believe I have control over my emotions and thus control over my life.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And life likes to remind me otherwise. Frequently.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've decided to stop trying to force motivation. I need to recognize it when I have it, and jump on my work like no one's business, but I don't think I'll ever be able to completely control my emotions or life. And I do believe I'm going to get this train wreck of a change back on track and start achieving things again. I promise.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />Just watch me go.</span></div>
<br />Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-39394572667349158512013-06-23T14:33:00.001-07:002013-06-23T14:33:46.502-07:00Self Worth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIw9d1r7OiI0f1_gXqkQ1ZeeL2EcRtgkF4rSa-gwiPwLt2ChqKDw1NgJF8mESWQemgY-PSwHpf_pxmN0fPSNQNmGDuMdEvmYtziLlbdaW8SWkIn8q1eBOe9RzwIvaQx0yovv1xymryc9pI/s1600/miscalculateyourvalue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIw9d1r7OiI0f1_gXqkQ1ZeeL2EcRtgkF4rSa-gwiPwLt2ChqKDw1NgJF8mESWQemgY-PSwHpf_pxmN0fPSNQNmGDuMdEvmYtziLlbdaW8SWkIn8q1eBOe9RzwIvaQx0yovv1xymryc9pI/s320/miscalculateyourvalue.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We all have insecurities. We all feel less than what we think we should be. But do you value yourself?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sometimes, I think I do. But there's always been this little voice inside of me that says I'm not good enough, says that I do everything wrong, and makes me believe I'm worthless. I've wrestled with it all of my life, and I don't think I'm alone in this particular fight. Most people seem to fight with their insecurities every day.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Through meditation, I learned to listen and then deny that voice and it's power. But since my routine has NOT been resurrected as I intended, I can honestly say that I've fallen back into the same insecurities.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Talking to a friend has helped me see why I don't want to be like this. He makes me feel crushingly insecure, but that isn't what opened my eyes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's his way of dealing with his own insecurities that showed me what's wrong with how I am now dealing with mine.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He once had people he confessed his problems to, but they shut him down and abandoned him when he needed them most. He once had people who made him hate himself. And then he finally kicked them out of his life.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But instead of dealing with the cuts in his soul that these people left behind, he let them fester. Now, he's become much like the people he refuses to think or talk about. Anyone mentions their problems, he shuts them down, because he believes everyone should deal with their own problems. Anyone makes him feel in the slightest inferior, he shuts them out, and turns that same feeling back on them.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am the first to admit I have many scars upon my soul. But they are scars. Flaws in the framework of my inner self, but they have closed and healed. I haven't allowed infection to settle and infect the rest of my soul. And while more cuts continue to be added to the number, each one is carefully tended and given what it needs to heal.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This boy does not have that. His cuts have never healed, and if he doesn't change sometime soon, I'm afraid that he's going to die of them.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And trying to help him has shredded my self-worth like nothing I've done before. I'm finally to a point where I have to back off and tend my own wounds. I feel guilty, like I should keep on trying to save this guy from himself, but I know this isn't really my responsibility. But my emotions about myself are. And I need to help myself feel better again.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How can I help anyone else if I don't help myself? </span><br />
Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-63815919352911457872013-06-12T23:07:00.000-07:002013-06-12T23:07:57.246-07:00Working On Routine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS4Xs7AL63PvhTv-I-n-ASeIFuJPbXzzSYhZ0WdxjQJKUu8r48GgdXMT9lQvh29H8v0R37qM4MvdFiB6SY2rPDsDMA5VRIfUjDUkBakm5YZGXc1WlNQ3l3Z8M0sGsbPlNbOVnM2UMlgcUM/s1600/secrettosuccess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS4Xs7AL63PvhTv-I-n-ASeIFuJPbXzzSYhZ0WdxjQJKUu8r48GgdXMT9lQvh29H8v0R37qM4MvdFiB6SY2rPDsDMA5VRIfUjDUkBakm5YZGXc1WlNQ3l3Z8M0sGsbPlNbOVnM2UMlgcUM/s1600/secrettosuccess.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Routine is the secret to success for me. I know it. I have proven it. I have lived it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But it's so hard to put into practice.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I want to write every day again. I want to wake up and run most days. I want to feel limber and relaxed again. I want to remember calm, instead of trying to create it all the time. And I desperately want to see the progress I was making renewed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, my routine must return. But everytime I make a deadline for the day it has to be reenacted, I find some excuse to put it off another day. And another. And another.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Because tomorrow is a day that never comes. Saying "I'll do it tomorrow." is as good as saying "I don't want to do it at all."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The fact is, I want to see that beautiful progress I was making, but I don't want to put in the effort the routine costs. Which is funny, because it didn't feel like much effort while it was happening. At least, not until I added a whole bunch more to my routine.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But it's time to get off my butt and start this life change back up again. I'm tired of excuses and silly self-pity. I want to feel myself living again!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's hoping I can survive the ride. </span>Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-48363574818514296642013-06-11T01:15:00.000-07:002013-06-11T01:15:46.644-07:00Sorta Sane<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYF8UkAhRUFFvrWw6LlEyaQC0LZS8BpthCjDr5_M6Fp0_YzCen3YNJhyphenhyphendbzTXNeq89MhUYBazMdxVruuDzCw3FdNLp-JWrBrjU0mRBjqYzUQblZYxgIpVGpsoWtpZDA0lghAuuztGAsCEO/s1600/maddestofall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYF8UkAhRUFFvrWw6LlEyaQC0LZS8BpthCjDr5_M6Fp0_YzCen3YNJhyphenhyphendbzTXNeq89MhUYBazMdxVruuDzCw3FdNLp-JWrBrjU0mRBjqYzUQblZYxgIpVGpsoWtpZDA0lghAuuztGAsCEO/s320/maddestofall.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I disappeared after my nervous breakdown a bit. I know I'm not doing so well, because I can't write. I sit at the computer, pull the book up and just stare at it blankly for a long time. Not because I don't know where to go from here but because it just doesn't feel like the words are in me anymore.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Which is crazy. I know the words are there. I just can't seem to reach them.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I have some good news. I read some pretty risque books on occasion, and since the rape I haven't been able to. But yesterday I made myself get a really rough one about a woman like me who was recovering from a severe rape who subsequently fell in love and found peace. Strangely, the book was better therapy than just about anything I've done so far.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My coworker and I are also getting along better. I had to go to our boss and report things, but we're dealing now. So that front looks better. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And boys are still hitting on me and pressuring me to go out with them, which I'm just not ready for.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Beyond the recent trauma, I have a hard time finding men who I click with. I guess I'm a little picky. I need to feel passion with them, need to be able to hold intelligent conversations with them, and they need to be able to call me on my crap sometimes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Looks are not required. Appreciated, but not required. Money is not required. A nice perk, but again, I don't really care. I just need to FEEL when I'm with them, instead of having that cold logic dominating my personality.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wish I could write my book again. I feel the words inside me, wanting to be unleashed. It feels like something is in the way right now, though. And I'm not sure if it's my personal problems or a story problem.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway, thought I'd get on here and let you all know that I am coping and dealing with things in my own way. I don't like how depressed I've been lately and I'll soon be dragging my butt back out of it. But right now, I just don't have the energy to.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tomorrow will be a new day. Right? </span>Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-32678191345332057422013-06-02T23:41:00.001-07:002013-06-02T23:41:28.851-07:00And Now For The Nervous Breakdown<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHxuKR17qq24nsZ_ggXE1804pnM9wxF2lQaC1Gq2LVrAwfCl6J-28dMIg2LxD6lC2nbyfc5KRh-dso_5uE_d4tKn-cz5b8EijzulmGUYZKjYOE3tzqe8qqt2KdZk-J9kR5fdZ8pFsbGmjU/s1600/nextavailablerepresentative.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHxuKR17qq24nsZ_ggXE1804pnM9wxF2lQaC1Gq2LVrAwfCl6J-28dMIg2LxD6lC2nbyfc5KRh-dso_5uE_d4tKn-cz5b8EijzulmGUYZKjYOE3tzqe8qqt2KdZk-J9kR5fdZ8pFsbGmjU/s320/nextavailablerepresentative.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I felt this nervous breakdown coming. After all that happened in my personal life, and how my family situation has been going, it was inevitable. So when someone at work started disappearing, lying to me, backtalking me when I'm trying to train her, talking bad about me to my coworkers, and not finishing her workload at the end of the day when I'm required to get EVERYTHING DONE at work before I leave, I'm not surprised it happened.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Remember my anger post? Yeah, I was considering using my usual tricks to get rid of this lady before she pushed me over the edge. But I didn't want to be that person, so I decided to just play nice and let each of us go our own way.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And then this weekend happened.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">First, it was Friday. I find out she's bad-mouthing me. Wonderful. Like that isn't going to infuriate me. And then my (big) boss comes around and tells me I have to finish an impossible workload before leaving work that night, and to get two FULL 3-high (that means it has three shelves that tower over your head) carts gone through, prepped, and binned in the back.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On a Friday. After having already spent 3 hours on the registers up front. With no one covering my department but me from 5:30-10:00 (I work in Jewelry, where they call you for customers every few minutes).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yeah. That was fun.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And on Saturday they tell me the same thing AGAIN. Only this time, I don't have any easy things to work through quickly and make disappear. I worked all of that stuff Friday. No, all that's left is the hard junk. I'm working my tail off, again, and work like a crazy person to get this stuff done.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I did it. Four carts are gone from the bins and they look FANTASTIC.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now, I didn't do it all alone. My coworker, who is causing the problems, is out on the floor covering jewelry and running freight in shoes while I'm in the back. But she disappears again after her last break (for 45 minutes), and I need her to do a few things in that time.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This makes me kind of mad. But I drop it. I don't want anyone accusing me of "not getting along" with my co-worker.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I go in today. And I am joyfully greeted with the news that I'm working jewelry today while the new girl works shoe freight.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm so excited. Maybe today will go better? After all, I'm not stuck in the bins all day today. Just have to get rid of any shoe freight she works that doesn't go out.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My co-worker has about 4 hours to complete 1 1/2 carts of shoes. I have nothing to do with it, and I only tell her that my other co-worker left a note for her at jewelry. She tells me she knows, but never comes by to see. Doesn't come by jewelry to check in. Isn't in the shoe department 80% of the time I go to check on her.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">9:00 swings around. I know it's time for her to be gone. So I go to check on what she has finished. She's left 2 boxes out of freight that she didn't get done, and at first I think, ahh, I can cover that. But then I go to the back. And find that she's left all the picks she was supposed to work and the other cart she was supposed to get still back there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />So those 2 boxes are from the 1/2 a cart she was supposed to work when I arrived in the department at 2:00.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now, if you have never run freight for shoes, you should know: this is ridiculously easy work. You take out big shoe boxes from the bigger boxes they come in. You take said shoe boxes to their designated display. You hang/set shoe boxes on shelves. And then you get rid of cardboard. Anything that doesn't go out, gets stacked in a pile.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That's it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1 1/2 carts of freight should have taken an experienced worker 1 1/2 to 2 hours. An inexperienced one would take 3 to MAYBE 4. But not to have finished even half a cart in 4 hours? While I'm covering jewelry? And someone else is picking up the floor?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I find a whole crap-load of work to do 2 hours before it's time for me to close. And she's just gone. Haven't seen her for an hour. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I lost it, folks. I had to cart back 1 and a half carts full of crap to the back and load them on the carts I have taken TWO DAYS to empty. TWO DAYS of climbing up and down ladders, scanning box after box, moving stacks of boxes around and over my head into uncomfortable places, hunting printers and making boxes for shoes to be put in, all done in sweltering heat because the back room doesn't air condition very well?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Did I mention our boss is coming back from vacation tomorrow and I'm responsible for making the bins look good? Or that I emptied one half of a 3 high jewelry cart while she did this (jewelry is difficult because you're near a cash register and people want you to check them out and it's a lot of small items packaged like nuclear weapons)? And served a whole bunch of customers who just wanted to check out? And did returns? And cleaned the jewelry department so that my boss doesn't come back to a COMPLETE mess?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yeah, I know what I'm doing and she's only been here a month. Yeah, I expected to have to cover for her. Yeah, I know I'm supposed to have the heavier work-load because I'm actually experienced.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But what did she do for 4 hours?!? Shoes was a mess every time I came by to check on her. Only at the end did it look a little picked up.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I rant and raved for a few hours. Cried. Stormed around the building like a crazy person. Complained about said co-worker at length. Left a note for my boss telling on her for what she did. I feel a little guilty for it, too. But only a very little. This whole thing has gotten way out of hand and I can't survive it just by sticking my head in the mud and ignoring it. I might lose my job over this, but if she wants to tell people I'm "just being mean to her", then I guess I'll have to take it. I can't believe people who know me so well would believe I'd actually bully someone like that. I can't even say a mean thing to my rapist. Why in the world would I waste my meanness on some random lady I hardly know???</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This won't end pretty. I hope this is the only nervous breakdown I have to endure, but it really sucks that it happened at work. With people watching.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I usually like my nervous breakdowns a little more private than that. </span><br />
Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-45492686995445567042013-05-30T22:21:00.000-07:002013-05-30T22:21:56.019-07:00A Cold Kind of Anger<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3LDHa4Tk0oyp2whZsjZCTKg8aNeSBvBUfBiGgfyFDEia30CSTntqsSWZAWDa7AGmD9e5CLduejCfYNgYj7rZjWC-dlg9OLvONxiVvqCaR3Vh3Qw1uFhjfw9wHJwMlrcHCtDZcpYxjqfWf/s1600/youcankeepagunorswordandnotuseit.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3LDHa4Tk0oyp2whZsjZCTKg8aNeSBvBUfBiGgfyFDEia30CSTntqsSWZAWDa7AGmD9e5CLduejCfYNgYj7rZjWC-dlg9OLvONxiVvqCaR3Vh3Qw1uFhjfw9wHJwMlrcHCtDZcpYxjqfWf/s400/youcankeepagunorswordandnotuseit.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am descended from two very messed up bloodlines. My father's side is what I call pure evil. And my mom's is crazy. Me, I'm a very nice person who is passionate and loving and good.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />I'm also just a little bit crazy and a tad evil.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Not a lot. Not like the others in my family, that's for sure. I talk to myself, I live in imaginary worlds, and I tend to freak out in crowds. That's about as crazy as I get anymore. And I'm not very evil. I don't like to hurt other people and I don't plot to take over the world.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I do have a very cold, calculating side to me. It usually only comes out if I sense a threat to myself or others, but it's always there, beneath the surface of my soul.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And it's always scared me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This side of me adds up the universe in cold, uncaring sweeps, and looks at the world and sees logic and math, not people and lives. It sees probabilities, and how to use people to get what I want. It's never hot, never passionate, and it is achingly patient.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I recently commented on YeamieWaffles blog, and I said some things from that side of myself. I told him about how to destroy a person using social connections and how simple it was if you just did it subtly. And I used that side of myself when I was raped. I calculated how best to handle this potentially violent man and how to get away relatively unscathed. This side of me did not care that if I followed through on this plan, I'd lose all chance at prosecuting him for his rape. It only cared about survival.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now he's free to go on raping other women. Nor does he realize what he did was even rape.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That is the consequence of my choice. But that side of me <i>still</i> doesn't care. Because it was the best way to survive, and that was all that really mattered.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The man I told everyone about yesterday has always scared me, too. Not because he's dangerous. But because he reminds me of this side of myself. That evil little piece inside my soul that can destroy a life. He revels in that side of himself. He's everything I am in that segment of my heart and that scares me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />Because I don't want to be like him. Or like the other evil people in my family.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I still care about others. I still hate hurting people. I will never be a violent person. But I do have a strong vindictive streak. And I hate that this side of me is so alive and active right now. I'm sure it has to do with the anger I'm feeling.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wish anger was hot and terrible for me, like it is for other people. That it flamed as high as when my mom loses her temper, and then fizzles itself out when it runs out of fuel. My anger is cold. It feels like my emotions, usually so alive and active, just die inside me. Like all the heat of my soul is extinguished beneath a glacier of uncaring anger.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It releases from me in one of two ways. Either it builds until I explode and use words to tear a person into shreds. Or it slowly and systematically strips a person of everything they care about in the same social destruction I described to YeamieWaffles.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It scares me. And yet it has saved me many times. Rarely do I allow my anger to do what it wants. I've seen too many people do irreparable damage both to themselves and others by indulging in their anger. But I do allow it to save me when I need it. Like the rape. And when I was stalked by a guy at work. And when that girl followed me home from school and threatened to throw a knife in the back of my head. And when my mom and dad get a little too abusive.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wonder if I'll ever learn to trust this side of me. Or at least accept it. That would be a change I'd like to see. </span>Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-59532553835438897442013-05-29T23:21:00.000-07:002013-05-29T23:21:25.542-07:00Inside the Mind<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMYfzLi6L1pfOQy384n-AMEfCQ_Yuq_tD7p6DfUur5DS-FTZNyMzfdzdgN__PH3hbuFFuSWh21VhxcP1qwtpm7TkPJFLau7MuFF_KvM9ZJw0HNLVQD8O5tg_E17wiLueic78vPmipEJNI_/s1600/whichoneswerereal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMYfzLi6L1pfOQy384n-AMEfCQ_Yuq_tD7p6DfUur5DS-FTZNyMzfdzdgN__PH3hbuFFuSWh21VhxcP1qwtpm7TkPJFLau7MuFF_KvM9ZJw0HNLVQD8O5tg_E17wiLueic78vPmipEJNI_/s320/whichoneswerereal.jpg" width="301" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I went to a friend's birthday party the other night. And she was with a guy that I have been in love with since I was 15. The friend knew full well I've had feelings for this guy for all these years, yet she loves to rub him in my face, anyway.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I understand why she does it. I've always understood her.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">People don't understand why I let her get away with those things. And I won't for long. I'll get sick of it again and cut her off, just as I have in the past. But the reason I put up with her, the reason I let her get away with it is that I understand.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She really does like me. But she also hates me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As long as other people aren't in the picture, she and I get along fine. But as soon as another person enters the scene, suddenly we're competing to be the best and the center of attention. Only I don't fight. I just smile and be myself, and oh well if that doesn't make the other person see me more than her.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But it does hurt me. Both because she's supposed to be my friend, and because it damages my self-image. I feel for hours and sometimes days afterwards that I'm simply not good enough.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I also see the guy she's now dating for who he really is. He's a very complicated guy, and I have always had the ability to see right through him. Ever since we were kids, I've seen him for what he is. He can charm and fool all the rest of the world, but I always got him. He isn't a smarmy idiot. He isn't a charming, cool person. He isn't nice or friendly.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He's a jerk. He sees the world around him as a giant game of chess, and he's always 6 moves ahead of everyone else. He plays with people's minds and uses words to effect them in ways I've rarely seen anyone able to do. And he's got a strong cruel streak. He likes to hurt people, and he's always been a user. He'll use them up and then move onto the next victim in line.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I've always refused to be a victim, no matter how I might love him.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He's always been fascinated with me, but also hated me. Because I really see him, while most people don't. They get controlled glimpses, but they don't understand that he only lets them peak in on the parts he knows he can play them into believing won't effect them. I get how he works and that scares him. But it also draws him, because he's never played chess with someone who knows the moves like he does.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thinking about these two, and how I really see through them into who they really are beneath it all, got me to thinking about character. Characters are a huge part of writing fiction. There is no story if there is no one there to tell it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Building characters has given me strange insight into how people tick. Because the key to character building (at least in my experience) is backstory. Who are they when the chips are down and the world is going to hell around them? What has happened in their life to shape and mold them into the person they are now? And how will that effect the story I'm telling now?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The same is true in life. If you can look at people, really look without letting emotion blind you, you can see how they tick. You can connect their actions into a much larger framework and see what they have done in the past and what they will do in the future.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's a very useful skill. It's also a fun game, if you get the hang of it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unlike the boy I love, however, I can't just play with people and act like it has no consequences. Seeing how it all fits together has given me deep insight into how my actions effect others, too. What I do to this person will affect their future choices, and I don't want to make them more broken than they already are.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I want to make them better. </span><br />
Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-69172765661175006022013-05-27T23:34:00.000-07:002013-05-27T23:34:20.058-07:00Upgrade Ready<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnVlfWXoEIRnCDnEDhyphenhyphenuLlP-_V3LYlSPPpH3iNzSMjc2qOrHtMjslbPO_PsVv7zFq3T4UuLt1nELazb1frXgOlDTLuclYS9QVrtdR5HVHD7LqNKhNtPhLvLiRs9rVwsAyC2f0LFzbanK60/s1600/upgradeyourlife.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnVlfWXoEIRnCDnEDhyphenhyphenuLlP-_V3LYlSPPpH3iNzSMjc2qOrHtMjslbPO_PsVv7zFq3T4UuLt1nELazb1frXgOlDTLuclYS9QVrtdR5HVHD7LqNKhNtPhLvLiRs9rVwsAyC2f0LFzbanK60/s320/upgradeyourlife.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I was at work today and I decided to splurge for the first time in a VERY long time on some beauty products. For some reason, I felt this need to experiment and play with a whole new look.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In other words, I bought a whole lot of new make-up.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That got me back to thinking about my life change again. I don't want a superficial change, like some new make-up to make me look better. I want a <i>real</i> change, like writing every day and running and eating healthier. The superficial can make everything look and maybe seem a little better, but it's just a trick.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's like putting a new paint job on a broken down Pinto. You're still stuck on the side of the road wondering where all your money went.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm not returning the make-up, because I like a nice paint job, thank you very much. But I can't stop there. I need to get this life change back to the center of my life. No matter what is going wrong, this change has been an extraordinary source of strength for me, and I'm not ready to lose that.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I like where I was going when my engine was running. </span><br />
Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-80317702653382004282013-05-25T23:01:00.001-07:002013-05-25T23:01:24.378-07:00Magic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMIEXoeIiyQKEcyqeSE92hREU-MzSUd2j9G3SXQendUj4upRv9Q-9EU-Bh7LGwUhhcH8clrXsj9IlZgfppVjPQJCI-v46M6Xd368KUR0mnlCEs6DB7EGhK01J3o0o1vA9OAkb_I2lqZ_e/s1600/changetheworldintowords.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMIEXoeIiyQKEcyqeSE92hREU-MzSUd2j9G3SXQendUj4upRv9Q-9EU-Bh7LGwUhhcH8clrXsj9IlZgfppVjPQJCI-v46M6Xd368KUR0mnlCEs6DB7EGhK01J3o0o1vA9OAkb_I2lqZ_e/s400/changetheworldintowords.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like most writers I've met, I believe that words are a form of magic. They weave a spell around our souls, capturing the world in a few seemingly simple words. They aren't an illusion or a trick. They are power beyond measure. They are true magic.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They have the power to do incredible good and terrible evil. They can twist into lies, or bring forth great truth. They can be emotional, logical, or a mixture of both. They can comfort and caress, or they can punish and slap. It all depends on the user.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have studied their use for many years. My entire life, to be honest. And while I may only be a 23 year old girl, I've watched and learned far more than most my age.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Because the magic of words fascinates me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How can such small things shape the world so much? How can one word change an entire experience? What is it about words that holds such power?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And how do I harness that power for myself?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Those questions have dominated my life. I have pursued a life dedicated to the study of words and their power. And writing has been one means I have found to study it. But social interaction has opened up previously unexplored territories for me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />I have been quite surprised to discover that interacting with people on a daily basis has increased my writing ability. You'd think it would be the opposite, right? After all, pursuing social interaction takes away from the time I have to write. So why does it increase my skill?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But, of course, social interaction is <i>all about</i> words. Every word you say is used both for and against you in every interaction you undertake. Effective communication is the only way you can guarantee people can see you for who you are. That means you have to learn to say things just right, or people will never learn to like you for you.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And thus, social interaction actually makes you a <i>better writer</i>.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It all boils down to the magic that words hold over us all. Can you weave the spell just right, or will it backfire on you? </span>Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-63381804727434625652013-05-24T00:04:00.002-07:002013-05-24T00:04:37.393-07:00Healthy Relationships.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtedNnxxarYy6EQfd9aSc1QzAo4o3Ykf1QK4RkoiDfkhDqSYLpUSI21FPdS7OepodNwq-7V2PKRyQ3EXeMuy6giKlTWKfNZpSWSqywWnQ4lhVilKHDCk-ey4POTONTtinXqafe_rV2vP19/s1600/ahealthyrelationship.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtedNnxxarYy6EQfd9aSc1QzAo4o3Ykf1QK4RkoiDfkhDqSYLpUSI21FPdS7OepodNwq-7V2PKRyQ3EXeMuy6giKlTWKfNZpSWSqywWnQ4lhVilKHDCk-ey4POTONTtinXqafe_rV2vP19/s320/ahealthyrelationship.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Back when I was reading everything I could get my hands on about change, I remember I would cringe every time it got to the part about relationships. Each one said the same thing: You need to surround yourself with people who are supportive of your change and who emulate such an example in their own lives, if you really want to make an effective change in your life.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These are called healthy relationships.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I encourage such relationships in my daily life. I'm quite good at finding and continuing them. I make friends with people on here and at work who help me stay on track with how I want my life to be like.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, I know that the 2 most influential people in my life DON'T support me. In fact, you could say they do everything in their power to stop me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These people are known as my parents. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Not because they don't love me. It's not even envy. In part, I think it is a subconscious desire to keep me young and dependent on them for everything. Also, I've had a pretty rough life, and they've been along for that ride. They are terrified that I'm going to get hurt even worse and want to "protect" me from the world.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Getting raped did not help matters. I admit, I need to learn a lesson from what happened in how to handle men and dating in the future. I do not agree with the concept that I should give up on going out with my friends at night because (and here I quote) nothing good can come from being out late at night.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Allow me to insert the fact that I'm 23 years old in here.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I understand my parents' need to protect me. I understand that they want me to stay safe. But I refuse to quit living because someone decided to make me a victim again. I've allowed my fear of living to hold me back from too many things in life, and it's not going to happen again. I can't go back to that sad, little depressed soul who barely left the house. I just can't.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mom and step-dad have fed into my depression for years. I don't think they are even aware of doing it. But they've kept me wrapped up in them and myself for as long as I can remember, encouraging self-destructive behavior that I now realize should have been stomped out long ago.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can't let that continue. Even though it has harmed my relationship with my parents, I want to be a better person and I determined at the start of this that I would do whatever I had to to place my relationship with them on a more healthy footing. For all our sakes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The current situation has set me back quite a bit, however. I don't know how I'm going to set my family life back on track, but I'm going to take a guess and say it will be a rough ride.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's hoping I can hold on. </span><br />
Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-36329734970417280742013-05-22T23:34:00.001-07:002013-05-22T23:38:37.410-07:00Strength<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWwadGFSPpVx59MWbVYx7ihhoze9Qhja68dqWugZARdzeAPR9eheK6jsIKxPgZwhepyzoDzRvFWEjIAoUYOVejshoFhUgQ84_6flP7cm6ls2v9bedW4Hnz3qgqxEAkN2qGYidHrwbjjZz/s1600/ThisLife.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWwadGFSPpVx59MWbVYx7ihhoze9Qhja68dqWugZARdzeAPR9eheK6jsIKxPgZwhepyzoDzRvFWEjIAoUYOVejshoFhUgQ84_6flP7cm6ls2v9bedW4Hnz3qgqxEAkN2qGYidHrwbjjZz/s1600/ThisLife.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Strength is such a complicated word. I find strength in words and power in the mind, where I explore a rich internal world. But other people find strength in brute force, money, beauty, and social connections.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't get me wrong; I can see where those things have their benefits. I just don't care about them as I do words and imagination. To me, those are the true strengths of humanity, the true powers that can beat any odds.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Each source of power and strength has a place in life, of course, but I think if words and imagination were the primary source of power in this world, it would be a much better place to live. And if you use the other sources of power in combination with these two, you'll be unstoppable. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't have incredible beauty, I wasn't born rich, I'm not a very social creature, and I'm definitely not a physically blessed person. But I was born with a rich imagination and a love of words. Capability to use those two gifts effectively came from much trial and error, but the fascination was inside of me from day 1. And it lives on inside of me to this day.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What do you think about strength? Is it a complex assortment, delved from multiple sources? Or is it much simpler than that? Does brute force mean more than intelligence? What is your source of strength? </span>Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-17597804051126877412013-05-21T20:38:00.000-07:002013-05-21T20:38:22.893-07:00Holding On<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiviigS8KANNAFM-lzsbAeX61j_8XA1AKLqIuApDugrlaD7JQLHsIVzrF6A-CeXtaQ0TcNhSAC8x2KOsoC-2septWBnWj9GpYEVNFjVKTf-405b5hFrWBBS35k7oDHZiAxTMDYYjjfOx_YM/s1600/getbackup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiviigS8KANNAFM-lzsbAeX61j_8XA1AKLqIuApDugrlaD7JQLHsIVzrF6A-CeXtaQ0TcNhSAC8x2KOsoC-2septWBnWj9GpYEVNFjVKTf-405b5hFrWBBS35k7oDHZiAxTMDYYjjfOx_YM/s320/getbackup.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I have missed 2 blog posts in a row. I should feel bad, because this is basically me holding onto my life change by my fingernails. But I'm still holding onto it by my fingernails!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And that makes me feel pretty damn good.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I mean, I haven't given up. I could use what happened as an excuse to quit, to say it isn't going to work this time and move on, and who would blame me? But I'm not doing that. I want this too bad to give up. I won't let <i>anyone</i> steal this from me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can and I will get back up and make it work. I can be strong.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I'm also going to have to be realistic. I can't go back to a strict regimen and routine and expect myself to just jump into it full-fledged ahead. I don't have it in me right now. And that's okay.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I just need to do something. Anything. I need to get back up and try again. I need to give this a chance to work, because I know it can. And I'm going to need all the help I can get to do that. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I want to thank everyone for their very supportive comments. And when I have a little more socialization in me again, I'm going to go back through and reply to them all. But I want you to know I've read them and truly appreciate your kindness. And that what you've said has meant something to me. I may be holding on by my fingernails, but I'm pretty sure you guys are what those fingernails are holding onto.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I apologize for the scratches. </span><br />
Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-40638172673459395912013-05-19T00:13:00.000-07:002013-05-19T00:13:00.766-07:00This Is Normal???<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuyjVBgLgG2GmrkkLd3ObB1CuKpd_Xz6iIl6Azf0r2SwV-qCSr2dCxjWEa43-13Ctldn-XMF1i2QUhyphenhyphenxTQyClKbrJZdACoImFZ0AjncMUpEDgI0XgmWVG0ywm1sWoL4Blv50rqqmZ_z4rQ/s1600/outofsuffering.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuyjVBgLgG2GmrkkLd3ObB1CuKpd_Xz6iIl6Azf0r2SwV-qCSr2dCxjWEa43-13Ctldn-XMF1i2QUhyphenhyphenxTQyClKbrJZdACoImFZ0AjncMUpEDgI0XgmWVG0ywm1sWoL4Blv50rqqmZ_z4rQ/s400/outofsuffering.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was talking to some of the women at work about what had happened (which I covered in my previous post <a href="http://somearemade.blogspot.com/2013/05/i-know-i-said-i-wouldnt-do-this.html">I Know I Said I Wouldn't Do This</a>), and as I talked I found a very uncomfortable trend.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Almost every single woman I spoke to had had at least ONE experience with rape. Most had two or more.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm sorry, but am I the only person to find it disturbing to think that RAPE is NORMAL?!?! It happens so often in society (though rarely spoken of in reference to one's self) that most every woman I talked to today could describe a scenario in which she was raped or almost raped within her lifetime.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And they don't talk about it to other people! Which, on the one hand, I can understand. If I weren't such a blunt person, I wouldn't talk about it. Even with my blunt personality, I had to fight the urge to bury it all beneath a fake smile and camouflage the fact that everything had suddenly changed. For someone like me, that's amazing. I say almost <i>everything</i>. I love to communicate and I rarely miss an opportunity to exercise that ability.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So the urge to bury the shame of rape is pretty strong, if it could actually still my tongue for even a day.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This made me think even more. All these women are walking through life brushing up against other women, the vast majority of which have suffered this terrible hell called rape at one time or another. And instead of reaching out to one another and sharing that burden, talking about their experiences and their means of overcoming the emotional repercussions, they allow shame and fear to crush them into silence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />I can't help but wonder if that is part of the reason rape has become "normal".</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On top of everything, by talking to all these women who had been through much the same as I had, I found myself feeling stronger and stronger. Because I looked at them and thought to myself: "They don't act terrified all the time. They've moved on with their lives and shaped relationships with other people despite what they went through. They aren't jumping at shadows or crying at the drop of a hat. And if they can manage to do something that amazing, so can I."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So by remaining silent about rape, we are actually denying other women and ourselves the opportunity to heal and find strength. We are crippling these victims from finding the support they need to grow back into confident young women.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course, it isn't acceptable to just talk about rape in society. At least, not if it isn't about the most recent news article or serial paperback featuring the subject. Isn't it sad that we have to distance ourselves from the subject to discuss it at all?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And why? From a fear of gossip? Of being blamed? Of being ridiculed?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After all, aren't our own minds doing a good enough job at ridiculing at blaming ourselves as it is?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I may be gossiped about and badmouthed behind my back for admitting to date rape at work. I may be blamed and ridiculed and speculated about. But I don't think I will be. Because I talked to real women today, one on one, about real things that had effected us both as human beings. Rare are the souls who will open themselves up to you in a private setting and then blab your secrets to all who come along. After all, they gave you some of your own ammo from which to fire back.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But even if I am gossiped about for discussing it, I'm glad I did it. I couldn't have collected more useful data from going through years of therapy (been there, done that), internet searches (lots of upbeat articles about how "This Isn't Your Fault"), or books (recommend therapy and not blaming yourself).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These were real women leading real lives every day. They got choked up when they thought about what happened, they nodded their heads when I described my thoughts and emotions, and they completely understood and commiserated with my actions and choices. And they had <i>moved on</i>. They weren't stuck in the past indefinitely. They weren't still wallowing in depression and fear. They had picked up the pieces their lives had become and put them back together to make something beautiful.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I'd like to dedicate this post to all the women out there who have been through this before. You took a life that had been cracked beyond all seeming repair and somehow glued the pieces together into something amazing. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I only hope I can be as strong as you. </span>Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-54977114320707412672013-05-18T00:24:00.000-07:002013-05-18T00:24:23.546-07:00I Know I Said I Wouldn't Do This...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYAmWOgguc5uW0ba23JNl6eq3pXJQHylXX1anaIcsrbq5-P3Wmlcuz-lSu_tP9_vFTiZrd_JAiUPjGTcwJNvTsuiMrY8z10lhGaODaAy_lvC6H4m2sjYXNh0uUuegvprDjaqJUNGfHJpS/s1600/can'tstandtoforget.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYAmWOgguc5uW0ba23JNl6eq3pXJQHylXX1anaIcsrbq5-P3Wmlcuz-lSu_tP9_vFTiZrd_JAiUPjGTcwJNvTsuiMrY8z10lhGaODaAy_lvC6H4m2sjYXNh0uUuegvprDjaqJUNGfHJpS/s320/can'tstandtoforget.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I told Mark I wouldn't talk about depression and I would keep things on this blog upbeat from now on. I tried to do that yesterday. I tried to forget and pretend like nothing had ever happened.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But some distractions can't be ignored.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I feel so drained and lifeless. I feel like everything I am has been sucked out of me. I eat like 1 meal a day and my sleep is filled with terrible dreams. What little sleep I can get, anyway.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You see, night before last, I was date raped. I've been raped before, so I knew the drill and I didn't think my mind could handle another violent rape, so I just went along with him in the end. And my cooperation in the whole thing makes it incapable of prosecution, basically. I mean, they can go through the trial, but nothing will come of it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So my mind is stuck in that night. I can't seem to pull my thoughts or emotions away from it. I just want to forget the whole thing ever happened. I want to pretend it all was just one of my fantasy scenarios.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But it wasn't. It was real. And I don't WANT to forget, not really. Not rationally. I want to remember and learn and get better again. I can and will survive this. I've done it before and I'll do it again. I'm stronger than this, strong enough to deal with what has happened and move on with my life.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That's what I'm telling myself, anyway. But underneath that, I feel like everything is dead inside, like all my drive and ambition to achieve and succeed is just...gone. Everything that mattered feels empty and worthless. My life feels pointless. I feel pointless.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It drives me crazy when logic and emotions don't line up. If I had handled things on a purely logical front that night, none of this would have happened. If I had handled the situation AFTER on a purely logical front, everything would have been better. If I could just deal with the aftermath of the whole situation now with pure logic, I could move on and use it as a fuel to make me stronger.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't know if I can do that. Emotions are just so strong. How do you deal with the emotions of a date rape? How do you deal with the feelings of vulnerability it leaves? It had taken me years and years to get to the level I was before. Virtually my whole life. How can I do that again?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I say I'm strong enough, but inside I wonder if that's true.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I guess I'm about to find out. </span><br />
Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-28113961328932468122013-05-16T22:44:00.000-07:002013-05-16T22:44:01.209-07:00Distractions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznRuzKzNWp9F3_9l0x1n3ZK_5Cr7tW5MFGBYBcYG1z5JZHhhVY_X3jcTTdAqalU4G_B0vAuf0bxwpe995hplqXaEIygt3Un-jT3DDkJfYoIS7CKVrjaaQKxNaQ1rJlBWoxwhCNDblZRNQ/s1600/findadistraction.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznRuzKzNWp9F3_9l0x1n3ZK_5Cr7tW5MFGBYBcYG1z5JZHhhVY_X3jcTTdAqalU4G_B0vAuf0bxwpe995hplqXaEIygt3Un-jT3DDkJfYoIS7CKVrjaaQKxNaQ1rJlBWoxwhCNDblZRNQ/s1600/findadistraction.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I remember when I first started this life change and people continuously told me that they had tried to change their lives, but "something" always got in the way. I decided that that "something" was always yourself.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course, I had to go and prove myself right.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I've been distracted lately. I don't do my routine as much as I used to, and I miss it. And each day I choose to stop letting myself slide and get this change back on track, "something" always seems to happen. That "something" always varies, from boy problems to sickness, but it happens every time.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Which can only lead to one conclusion: "something" isn't getting in the way; I am.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's so funny to me how each of us can be our own worst enemies. And how do you win a war against yourself? No matter what you do, you're going to lose.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lately, my goals have been losing and my need for distraction has been winning.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Am I looking for something to distract me? Sometimes. Sometimes I just need to forget reality because it's getting too intense for me to handle. That's actually how I get some of the greatest ideas for my novels. I get lost in my head for days, weeks, even months on end, and come out with entire stories planned inside my mind.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's also part of what makes me a better writer. Writing every day is all well and good, and I definitely want that to be a regular part of my routine, but living life is just as important. If you're experiencing life with friends and romantic relationships and adventures and problems, you're going to learn far more about writing and storytelling then reading a book or sitting at a computer all day could ever teach you.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So what's my point? Well, my point is pretty simple, actually. Distractions are bad, because they get you off track. But they can also be useful learning tools, if you view them correctly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In light of those facts, I have to make some changes to my life change. I need to stop using excuses and get back to my routine again. But I need to accept that my routine needs room for distractions, too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Not to plan for such things can only lead to failure.</span><br />
Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-68989106695173435622013-05-14T22:21:00.000-07:002013-05-14T22:21:55.562-07:00My Goals<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOmBq4FujAZVncuX-ayj3eb69PoX37bwdYD7kSi2OsDvzspmwjeeRjGe-YlwkalnFjcaT2YEchYvXTR7FAsgobMtRq4NtsyLJAx63IQ19j2iDcPsp9YOXvolrk-haoViqXnUiUO38oQ-0l/s1600/don'tletlifechangeyourgoals.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOmBq4FujAZVncuX-ayj3eb69PoX37bwdYD7kSi2OsDvzspmwjeeRjGe-YlwkalnFjcaT2YEchYvXTR7FAsgobMtRq4NtsyLJAx63IQ19j2iDcPsp9YOXvolrk-haoViqXnUiUO38oQ-0l/s320/don'tletlifechangeyourgoals.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thank you very much, YeamieWaffles, for pointing out the fact that I haven't really discussed my goal plans with the new followers I've gained. I've left you all a little lost.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you'd like to read my former posts on the subject, you can find my first post, <a href="http://somearemade.blogspot.com/2013/03/becoming-great.html">Becoming Great</a>, or read up on the list on my page entitled <a href="http://somearemade.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html">2013 Goals.</a></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But if you'd just like a quick recap, I can spell it out pretty quick. Basically, I've tried to be a writer and consistent in a lot of activities throughout my life, and I've failed at all of it, over and over again. This time, I dedicated myself to building a base for accomplishing my dreams, and determined I wouldn't give up until I had everything I had ever wanted.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To that end, this year's goals are about building habits and skills that will help me reach my future goals and get my writing career on track at last.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Very admirable sentiment, right? But it wasn't solid enough to be a real plan. I needed something big and easily understood to come back to again and again when I wanted to see where I needed to go and what I wanted to accomplish. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I created a list of 16 things I wanted to add to my life by the end of the year. They are:</span><br />
<br />
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Exercise, stretch, meditate, and work on my writing every morning & every evening</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Journal, stick to a budget, & write a poem daily</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Blog daily</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Clean & organize environment</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Set diet (list healthy choices, count calories consumed & calories burned)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Learn to cook healthy alternatives</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sketch something daily</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Write daily (x amount of words daily on main project)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Improve posture (Alexander technique)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Learn Spanish</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Learn belly dancing</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Improve my Walmart work performance</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Start composting </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Study anatomy</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Learn chess</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Study classical literature</span></li>
</ol>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I've reached number 7 and become a little stunted in my growth at the moment. Which is no wonder, when you realize that I've started this life change only 3 months ago and have already tried to cram half the list into my life.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I think I might have overdone it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But my premise is still effective. I believe I can slowly integrate great change by adding small changes over time. And each addition to my life has proven incredibly enriching. I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed broadening my horizons. Of course, it's also a little scary.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But then, what's life without a little fear?</span> <br />
<ol>
</ol>
Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-48487379722051562252013-05-13T23:00:00.002-07:002013-05-13T23:00:43.245-07:00Life Is Like A Camera<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7bkr4Sy3mdWD1G5phvbukmMCHKD4GWl3VAnzIr1y-PYQjoJt4OSuc7m_UTrBA1vCY9u2T3lwQEMlaXcphAjJRfWbg1E0LmVxoL49jUjDNmOWF9aLBNsN_bZav2ixKkWYrbfxt6KKsCh19/s1600/lifeislikeacamera.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7bkr4Sy3mdWD1G5phvbukmMCHKD4GWl3VAnzIr1y-PYQjoJt4OSuc7m_UTrBA1vCY9u2T3lwQEMlaXcphAjJRfWbg1E0LmVxoL49jUjDNmOWF9aLBNsN_bZav2ixKkWYrbfxt6KKsCh19/s400/lifeislikeacamera.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Life changes are hard. I expected that. I even expected a set-back or two. But somehow the reality has surpassed my expectations.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It has been even harder than I thought it would be. I have seen far more set-backs than I ever could have expected. But I also have seen more success and happiness than my little heart could have asked for.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The fact that I have dedicated myself to changing into a person I can be proud of is amazing. And today I took stock of what that change has done to my life.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I haven't won any awards for suddenly becoming an incredible, popular author. I haven't become a sensational artist overnight. I haven't reached enlightenment or physical perfection. Nor have I become as healthy or organized as I dreamed. But I've become so much more than I thought possible. I've learned how to keep a schedule. I've learned to love myself. I've learned how to deal with mistakes and failures. And I've become a more confident, more mentally healthy person because of it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I think that's a success worth more than the rewards I started this journey for.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It amazes me to think that three months ago I sat down and decided to just change my life. I decided to take what my life had always been and had accepted as immutable, and turn everything I knew upside down and inside out. Where did such bravery come from?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Two months ago today, I started this blog in an effort to keep myself accountable for my life change. I wanted to talk to people about what I was doing and have them keep me accountable for keeping to my schedule. And I wanted to inspire people to change into the person they've dreamed of becoming, too.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If life is like a camera, then this blog has been my lens. Thanks to the posts I've made here each and every day and the comments they've received, I've been able to evaluate my progress and be encouraged to keep going in the face of what I considered impossible odds. This is why I made it thus far.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And this is why I'll make it to month four. Wonder what the picture will look like then... </span>Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-18603971521597449512013-05-12T23:44:00.000-07:002013-05-12T23:44:30.717-07:00My Heart Belongs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBk5zfWLxL-wRxUYXBfw05CI-sSD45-oST8lNAmDiIO_fcWxe-AhDXN6fjcIP_MGdtndbov02qwDic_lKZFOZneLqTk2DmROeAy7wgRKfCw_f-AX9GE65fGMansbWE0QR9wdJFOz0n3LW5/s1600/heartbelongs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBk5zfWLxL-wRxUYXBfw05CI-sSD45-oST8lNAmDiIO_fcWxe-AhDXN6fjcIP_MGdtndbov02qwDic_lKZFOZneLqTk2DmROeAy7wgRKfCw_f-AX9GE65fGMansbWE0QR9wdJFOz0n3LW5/s320/heartbelongs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love my fantasy worlds. I love them so much that I live there about 90% of the time. As my mom has often said in my life, I live in my fantasy worlds and merely visit reality.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It makes me quite different than other people. And apparently that shows. But I don't want to change. I truly adore the fantasy work I do.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That's where I belong.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I guess that's why I reacted a little crazy when I had someone send me a message of how words are not reality the other day. For some reason, that really upset me. I argued back that words ARE reality, because they are the way we interpret, interact with, and understand everything that is "real". Every thought, every emotion, can only be consciously understood if it is made into WORDS. Words hold the power of reality inside of them. They shape and flex it to create other dimensions, other universes, and they take us there to visit and see things we could never visit or see in real life.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That's why I love writing. That's what brings me back to this dream over and over and over again. I want to shape reality. I want to warp it into something that no one else has ever seen before.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I want to share my fantasy. </span>Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-79486235419438123022013-05-11T22:22:00.001-07:002013-05-11T22:22:13.063-07:00Flying Free<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsTcJZmuJr6tRN7pLVtjqJgagC0UkAs4H1ER0cIGdU02b8bLfIbD2tZiHzUDgxUgxD9RQccGM8OMpLbVbkSIL9AADLsCDhBkjCVJ82wRswK1v6sZeZ7W9_hme5dyvqeDdRDRTzys_trkuC/s1600/giveupwhatweighsyoudown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsTcJZmuJr6tRN7pLVtjqJgagC0UkAs4H1ER0cIGdU02b8bLfIbD2tZiHzUDgxUgxD9RQccGM8OMpLbVbkSIL9AADLsCDhBkjCVJ82wRswK1v6sZeZ7W9_hme5dyvqeDdRDRTzys_trkuC/s1600/giveupwhatweighsyoudown.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Have you ever dreamed about flying? Just soaring through the clouds with nothing but air holding you up. The kind of dream where you're no longer touching the ground, it's just you and the limitless sky.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's amazing.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've always wanted to fly in real life, too. Not with a parachute, not in a giant metal tube, but actually <i>fly</i>. Like the birds do.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, that's physically impossible. But I've taken that metaphor in my life's pursuit of becoming special and successful. Not only because its an apt metaphor, but because it has some significant personal meaning for me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Until I read this quote, however, I forgot to think about how birds fly. It isn't just the wings that gives them that incredible ability to swing through the atmosphere; they also have hollow bones and tail feathers. The hollow bones make them light enough that the force of their beating wings can raise them off the ground, and the tail feathers guide their direction in flying and keep them balanced as they go.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And that is an apt metaphor for my life change, too. You have to get rid of the things that weigh you down, or hollow your bones, as it were. You have to let go of the old grief, the problems you've allowed to hold you back all of these years. You have to find balance and direction in your life, or what I like to call, shake your tail feathers. That's the only way you can get where you want to go without crashing and burning.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you think about it, flying is the perfect metaphor for reaching for your dreams. Because it describes all the things you really have to do to get from here (ground-level) to there (the stars).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I guess I'm going to have to lighten up and learn how to steer if I want to get anywhere. Maybe I can make my dream come true and really learn how to <i>fly.</i></span>Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-47773960847552430472013-05-10T23:49:00.001-07:002013-05-10T23:49:17.273-07:00Going Forward<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBu4fuFwQ-2BA7r6lEty1RDtOxxnAhuTxs8YQxh0xZSGx_Ffqi4uYiQXlMkH92i2GnOF9Xe2zYc2ZAU4zVJFjDMXiZ6rZksgR_4e1EJLoP98yx4Zi0oYe8H7csIgzDsmIgC0DyRRDDdd12/s1600/notgoingthatway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBu4fuFwQ-2BA7r6lEty1RDtOxxnAhuTxs8YQxh0xZSGx_Ffqi4uYiQXlMkH92i2GnOF9Xe2zYc2ZAU4zVJFjDMXiZ6rZksgR_4e1EJLoP98yx4Zi0oYe8H7csIgzDsmIgC0DyRRDDdd12/s320/notgoingthatway.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, I failed. And today was just as hard as the days before. So what? I'm not doing those days over again, I'm starting a whole new day each and every morning I'm alive.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There's no point in staring at the past. The past is unchanging. We can glimpse back at it every once in a while and enjoy the stories, but we can't get lost in it. Because that's not the direction we're heading. We're going forward.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And forward means progress. Forward means change. Change of scenery, change of direction, change of heart. All of this is what lies ahead, not behind.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I guess I need to keep my eyes glued to the horizon, then. Because tomorrow is a whole new day of opportunity! </span><br />
<br />Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-48802506919957613412013-05-09T22:42:00.000-07:002013-05-09T22:42:06.188-07:00My Own Worst Enemy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYyAbq468WADHt5-I633D9d-0MF1ZjS2ubYe5HFShobjmugVIcuNCeSm0S2adRlTwH0Ttdw2DdrfK4qys3di1lT1NFYN-_UDKhtjPEpGrIsY07rdVtlUWWHu6LgIiIIq41Rgst8bjls9tK/s1600/notloseyourenthusiasm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYyAbq468WADHt5-I633D9d-0MF1ZjS2ubYe5HFShobjmugVIcuNCeSm0S2adRlTwH0Ttdw2DdrfK4qys3di1lT1NFYN-_UDKhtjPEpGrIsY07rdVtlUWWHu6LgIiIIq41Rgst8bjls9tK/s320/notloseyourenthusiasm.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've never understood what has held me back from being the person I wanted to be. I did a lot of research at the beginning of this life change and tried to find out what that was and make it work this time. And I discovered so many useful things. I found my way to what I needed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And now it feels like I'm back where I started from. I don't understand it. It's like my own mind and body turned against me just as I got into the swing of things. And I'm not just talking about the emotional mind that sabotages all humans in their pursuits of doing what's best vs. what feels good. I'm talking about literally turning against me: I have a lupus flare and I can't physically do any of the things I need to. Plus, there's the little fact that I am bipolar (no manias, just depression), and I've been terribly depressed the last week or so. Add that in and you have a double whammy.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm weak as a kitten physically, my brain thinks nothing but bad thoughts no matter how many times I redirect it, and I feel exhausted, mentally and physically all of the time.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I NEED this so badly. I have to make this life change happen. I have to make it work. This is that important to me.<br /><br />Lately, I've been slipping a lot. I think it's because I lost the ability and time to do a lot of my pre-planning. Pre-planning is one of the most important things I've found in my arsenal of change. If I didn't plan ahead of time what will and won't happen, what I'll work on and what I'll ignore, I fail.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I haven't cleaned my room hardly at all. I've maintained it to a certain degree, but no real cleaning. I haven't cleaned the kitchen. I haven't cleaned out my car again. I haven't done my daily routines. I haven't done a lot of things of late.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And jumping right back in right now feels impossible. I tell myself to get up and do it, but my mind and body fight me the entire way. I end up feeling worse when I try than if I didn't.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sometimes I wonder if I'm just too broken to succeed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But then I think about all the people who <i>have</i> made it. Did their problems seem any less insurmountable? When they thought about all it would take to make them succeed, did they ever feel terrified and overwhelmed?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Were they their own worst enemies, too?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know I spend a lot of my time on this blog complaining about the difficulties. So I'm going to try being more positive and upbeat on here again. I look back at my first posts, and I like what I was writing then. I was full of hope and determination and every word shone with that emotion behind it. Lately, my feelings of inadequacies have come out to play, and my writing has reflected that.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No more.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Complaining, while inevitable, is not what I want to waste my time on. I'm going to get this train back on track, even if it feels impossible. And I'm going to be more positive again. I like that version of me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I can't succeed if I'm fighting myself the whole way. I'm going to have to do more research and figure out a way to deal with the physical and mental problems I have. Because they aren't just going to go away and let me succeed. They are here to stay and I'm going to have to cope with them if I want to make this work.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I really want to make this work. </span>Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282677050879617208.post-10840847505121011992013-05-07T15:23:00.000-07:002013-05-07T15:23:57.863-07:00Meeting Expectations<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTViIG_leVYFQFbBQ8LExr8OJqEdrZkpwwH6t6dYbcHamBJMZPNqbTPSpTzYgHRxRiMrQGB4IB5th3nqh-KXlSjyK2v8hrgQ9YKMDimiCXt1pxh6vHSTNrK-HAoQmQcgJrDvblc54nkcw4/s1600/thegreatestaccomplishment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTViIG_leVYFQFbBQ8LExr8OJqEdrZkpwwH6t6dYbcHamBJMZPNqbTPSpTzYgHRxRiMrQGB4IB5th3nqh-KXlSjyK2v8hrgQ9YKMDimiCXt1pxh6vHSTNrK-HAoQmQcgJrDvblc54nkcw4/s320/thegreatestaccomplishment.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I read a blog post today entitled <a href="http://www.thechangeblog.com/you-cant-be-anything/">You Can't Be Anything If You Put Your Mind To It</a> today. At first, I hated it. The author tells you, straight up, you have to accept that you can't be the richest, most athletic person in the world. The only thing you can be...is you.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I found it very demoralizing. But I let it percolate in my mind anyway. All because of some advice I gave someone recently.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I told my friend this: You don't owe anyone an explanation for why you can't take their advice, but you <i>do</i> owe yourself a chance at taking it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I took my own advice and thought about what this author said. And I think I finally got his point, though I still disagree with how he delivered it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Being a billionaire, being an Olympic athlete, being on the NFL, none of those things are really about being you. They are external, not internal. Those things are things people strive to attain because <i>other people told them it was something desirable</i>.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You can play football without being on the NFL, and love it. You can do any of the Olympic sports without competing in the Olympics, and love it. You can be financially stable and not be a billionaire, and love it. Those things are attached to a need to show the world that you have MADE IT. That you are accomplished and great and important.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When, if you truly were any of those things, you wouldn't need to show it to the world at all.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And, if I'm being perfectly honest, I have driven myself to succeed and show everyone I'm something incredible my entire life. Not because I need to be a famous writer or need money or things. But because I want to prove all the people who doubted me as a child wrong. I want to show the world I'm worth something, because there have been far too many people who have tried to tell me I'm worth nothing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm also driven by an internal need to write and share my stories. And that internal need has driven me to succeed far more than my need to prove something to the world. By seeking to be myself, I have gone much further than if I'd concentrated on the need to prove others wrong.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Internal motivation works much better than external motivation, in other words. And it turns out the author of that blog post was quite right. I completely disagree with how he states it, but his point is valid. We should not strive to be what other people have told us is right. We should strive to be what we want to be, inside, the person that is the truest form of ourselves.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, if anyone else out there is striving to meet expectations of others, even indirectly, maybe you should read that blog post, too. You never know, it might open your mind, just as it did mine.</span><br />
Kylahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793288607844743336noreply@blogger.com0