Back At It

Hello! My god, I haven’t posted on this blog in forever. I made my new blog so that I could separate my posts about motherhood from personal posts, but I guess I’ve learned that once you have a child, there is no separating your parenthood from your personal life. In a way it’s wonderful to be tied to someone like that (I mean, she’s literally 50% me), but on the other hand it’s a little exhausting.

I guess this post will be more of a rant if anything.

So this semester is my first time taking a full course load (12 credits) in a year. I honestly thought I could handle it, but I’m starting to find that I really, really can’t.

Here are the reasons why I’m freaking the fuck out:

1) More credits

Last semester I only took 6 credits online. The spring before that I took 12 in class. But there’s a difference.

The 6 I took last semester were psychology classes, and I already have a good foundation of psychology behind me. I already knew, for the most part, what was going on, or I would just have to build on my existing knowledge. Now, I’m planning on switching majors to business (marketing to be exact), and I have absolutely no experience with college level business courses. So not only are there more, but they’re all brand new, and require a COMPLETELY different frame of thinking than my psychology classes did.

2) Online

The 2 classes I took online last semester were nothing. I already had a lot of previous knowledge and they were pretty simple for the most part. Plus, they were both “pace yourself” classes with no fixed schedules.

The classes I’m taking this semester are COMPLETELY different. They have weekly schedules and deadlines to meet, and there are a lot more assignments than my previous classes had. I’m finding it exceedingly difficult to be able to keep up with the course work.

I feel like if I had taken these classes in-class rather than online I would be under a lot less stress, because in class I would have people to talk to and a lecture to listen to, but in my house, not only do I have to combat the feeling of general laziness, but I have my daughter to take care of.

3) Ember

My baby is not even 3 months old yet. She requires A LOT of care. Her day works like this: nap for 1 to 2 hours, wake up, eat, poop, play, sleep again. Repeat. High school had gotten me adjusted to this “do all of your homework in one sitting” mindset, and that worked for me for 5 years. Now all of a sudden it’s “constantly start and stop, and sometimes stop in the middle of a thought because the baby is crying”. Ember has finally gotten into the habit of sleeping 5-6 hours in a row at night, every night like clockwork starting at midnight. For the first week I thought “Maybe if I try to get it all done during that time span I’ll be good”. But no, no I won’t. Turns out staying up all night when you have a baby will kill you during the day.

When Ember is awake, she wants to be entertained. She will actually cry of boredom. I have to play with her. If I sit her down in front of the TV, she’ll usually stop fussing and watch, but the thing is that I don’t want to do that to my baby. I don’t want her to be a brain-dead TV head before she’s even 1 year old. I’ve considered dropping her off at my relative’s house some days of the week so I can go to a library or something a study in peace, but the weather is so bad that every time she goes out she ends up getting sick and I can’t let that happen.

So pretty much, I am a nervous wreck.

My anxiety had gotten better over the past month, but recently it’s almost been right back where it used to be.

Thankfully I don’t have suicidal thoughts like I used to. It was a really rough 2 months after Ember was born, but thankfully I’ve been able to pull myself out of that. This anxiety is more like an, “I am so stressed and I have so much to do that I literally can’t function thinking about all the stuff I have to do”.

People don’t understand how dangerous the “depression/anxiety” pair works when it comes to academics.

The depression, by itself, leaves me hollow and unfeeling. It leaves me paralyzed in bed unable to move, sometimes so numb that I let my daughter cry for about 10 minutes before I have the strength to get up and give her whatever she wants.

The anxiety, by itself, makes my body start to overheat, and I start having panic attacks over the smallest things. Little arguments can make me cry and hyperventilate. Thinking about something stressful can make me heat up and start nervously scratching myself until I bleed.

The depression and anxiety together puts me in bed, with no energy, scratching myself until my arms bleed while my head hurts trying to strategize a way to get all my work done in time. Once I have my mental homework schedule planned out, I remain in bed, still without energy, and panic, constantly revising my schedule because I lack the mental capacity to execute it with efficiency. When I finally get the energy to get my textbook out, the words are blurry and my mind is racing with panic and I start to cry because I am so worried about failing that the thought of failing is what is actually leading to my failure.

You can read that paragraph and tell me I’m insane, and others will probably agree with you, but I swear to god that describes me on a good week.

I feel in my heart that I won’t go spiraling into a pit of suicidal depression again, but I’m feeling such a horrible stress I’ve never felt before, and I honestly don’t know where it will lead me.


One, Two, F*ck You

Senior Prom.

**WARNING: Angsty teenage girl venting session**

The one thing that media over-does and makes it seem like the epitome of everyone’s teenage years. The “night we will always remember.” A glorified homecoming. An expensive party.

For me, planning for prom has been the biggest nightmare of my life. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. I started looking for a dress 5 months ago and I had to get it online on Monday because I couldn’t find one anywhere, and it won’t get here until 2 days before prom so my mom spent $160 on a dress and I don’t even know how I’ll look in it or if I’ll have time to get it altered. People keep dropping out and back into the group, and it somehow became my burden to handle the expenses of the limo so my family is down $900, relying on many people I don’t know well to pay us back. The restaurant that was a God-send for everyone to agree on actually takes an hour to get there to and fro, and an hour and a half to actually sit down and eat. If there are unexpected dilemmas, we get to prom late and spend $65 to go to a party we’ll only attend for a little over an hour.

I am under an incredible amount of stress, for an event that will take up no more than 7 hours of my life.

I have eczema. I have a sh*t immune system. When I’m under an incredible amount of stress — as psychology has proven — I get horribly ill. My skin is swollen and bleeding all over. My face looks like it was rubbed with sandpaper. I’ve been taking extra pain meds and muscle relaxers to calm my body down from all the stress, but they haven’t been working. Today I threw up once and got dizzy and almost fainted twice (which I’ll partially accredit to the 90 degree weather).

The only word to describe this situation is “ridiculous.”

What’s worse: This is a social convention. Do we need the limo? No, our parents can drive us. Do we need to go out to eat?  No, it’s just fancier that way, but there’s food at the actual prom. Did I need a new dress? No, I have a million and this is only adding to the collection.

Psychological experiments have proven that cursing under stress reduces pain. I don’t think cursing until I die will cure me of this stress.

It’s worse because I’m the perfectionist type. This kind of event is big, and it takes a lot of preparation. I’m leaving school early, spending $100 and an hour and a half on hair and makeup, and all that other good stuff. An event this big, I want every moment planned to the second.

Lots of my Debbie-downer-non-Prom-goer friends have been saying, “Why go then? Just stay home and watch movies or go to dinner and nothing else.” Yes, that’s true. It’d make my life a lot easier. But the thing is: I WANT to go. It sounds like fun! Riding in a limo, eating at a hibachi restaurant, dancing all night with my friends looking fabulous. That’s my kind of day. It’s just, preparation. //cries

Prom is a week from tomorrow. So far no detail for my group is set in stone. I want to curse at everyone and tell them I quit, but I also wanna look fabulous and have a good time. Life is rough.

Society makes life too difficult. Stay tuned for my next post on the joys of Amish living! (not a joke, I spent the weekend in Amish country and I have stories to tell). ❤

What Is: Fetal Position — A Vent

Fetal position is that curled up little ball — knees to chest, face down, arms forming a protective barrier– that I crawl into when I’m upset. Or really cold.


A demonstration of fetal position. And an average night for seniors at my school.

Recently I’ve been doing a lot of crying. A lot of moping, whining, sobbing, self-loathing.

I usually get A’s. I’m that type that stays up all night doing homework and sleeping the next day, but I regurgitate the information I retained as fast as I can and maintain my grades. I’m not used to failing.

Two days ago I got a grade sheet in my honors pre-calculus class. It was an F.

But how? I study all night, I kill myself finishing the homework and double-checking the steps, I memorized all the formulas back and forth. But when it comes down to test day, I can never get the problems right. I can never get anything higher than a C. I’m lost.

If I’m being completely honest, the first thing I thought when she put that grade down was

“I should just slit my throat now.”

And I meant it. It was all I thought about for the next few days. A million consequences ran through my head: I could get rejected from my first choice college, they could accept me then rescind it, my parents might take away my car and money and privilege of going out for the rest of ever, my teachers and peers will start looking down on me, I’ll have to stay up even later and start losing hair and sanity etc etc etc for the rest of eternity. Even listing that rant makes me nervous.

But then I calmed the fcuk down long enough to ask myself: Will I remember this is 10 years? In 5? Hell, in 1?

Let me put this into perspective: I was freaking out and stressing out and considering suicide because I got my first bad grade. That won’t even go on my report card. And I have 2 months to get it up. So the colleges will never even know it existed.

Crazy, right?

This reminded me of B, my good friend that recently committed suicide.

The kind of stress and pain he was going through was unimaginable to someone like me. Though I’m sad he’s gone, I could never blame him. But if I killed myself? Because of one bad grade no one will remember in a year or a month or a week? Everyone would hate me. I would hate me (from wherever I would end up). Being so stressed that I would even consider what I considered, and what I always consider, is an insult to everyone in worse positions than me, and an insult to B.

Yes I get stressed. Yes I’m being immature. And yes it would be a lot easier to just give up. But even if I got rejected from every college and worked a mediocre job in an average household for the rest of my life, I know I’m still better off than a lot of people. And I’m thankful for what I have and who I have and that I’m alive today to be thankful.

I’m over it.