Nothing Like a Near-Death Experience to Liven You Up

Arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to

They’re better off without you 

(They’re better off without you)

Arrogant boy, cause a scene like you’re supposed to

They’ll fall asleep without you

You’re lucky if your memory remains” 

-All Time Low, Therapy

That was the song I listened to on Sunday night after desperately seeking my place of comfort, the familial sense of depression. I had been searching for this state of mind all day, but I had only been able to convince myself to be lethargic. Finally, I was able to once more experience  the painful pressure in my chest that was is a sort of addiction. I was crying excessively and relentlessly-and if felt good.

Through my stream of consciousness, I was able to understand just how much pain one has to be in to kill themselves; even at my worst, I have never come close to this sentiment.

One might think this would be a turning point for me, but it just made me descend deeper into my depression. Throughout the next two days, because I did not want to divulge my feelings to my friends, to talk it out, because that seemed selfish to me, I kept my emotions boiling underneath my skin. I put on a happy facade, and everything I witnessed pushed me to continue this practice.

Today has been a fair day emotionally but a rainy day physically. As I drove my little sister and I home from Science League, I began thinking about a play I had watched last weekend which implied near-death experiences caused one to value life more. This thought was so coincidental, I swear it is not coincidental.

Moments later, I turned a corner and hydroplaned; I do not know if there was a puddle there, but I was probably turning too fast. We skid into the grass and dirt by the side of the road and stared back at other drivers who peered at what had happened. I just wanted them to stop looking at me.

I put the car in park to collect myself for a moment, then put it into drive again and waited for other cars to pass by before going on my way. My little sister in the passenger seat-oh god, what if I had crashed with her in the car? I protested angrily to God, saying that he couldn’t let me crash while my little sister was in the car. Seemingly unaffected, she calmly stated the tires must have been wet.

I choked the tears down until I got home, driving excessively safe. All I could think about was if it had not been grass and dirt, but a tree or other object I had crashed into.

Lately I’ve been struggling with finding life valuable. Though I know my depression is not instantaneously cleansed with this almost-crash, this “coincidence” seems to have appeared at the critical moment.

This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for all near-death moments, jubilant, ecstatic moments, and all moments in between.

Poetry Survey!

I will be entering a poetry contest soon, and have to have four different pieces to enter. Hopefully I’m going to be writing more this week; however, out of all the poems I have, which do you like the most?

I realize now how many poems I have written and shared here, and if you need to go back and read through them, go to the sidebar, go to Categories, and then find where it says “Poetry By Me”.

Thanks!

Then…it hit me

Guys, it’s my senior year!

Notwithstanding how obvious this fact may seem, for the past two months, the severity of what senior year means had not sunk in until yesterday morning.

I woke up around 5am because my mom was yelling upstairs and talking to my sister and I as if we were awake , and I could not fall back asleep. My thoughts began to tumble and twirl, as they normally do whenever one gets a short period of free time to do nothing but think, and my consciousness finally rested on our final soccer meeting of the season that afternoon. We would turn in all of our equipment, vote for some end-of-year awards to be presented at the banquet in December, and the underclassmen would vote for Varsity captains next year and get a packet for off-season workouts.

I began to think about how my last year of high school soccer is truly over, except for this meeting and the aforementioned banquet. I had not previously dwelled on this fact, being too overwhelmed with my struggles to feel competent and like a part of the team, so this revelation was equivalent to a bittersweet slap on the face.

My mind then switched to remind myself that this is my last year in high school period. After this year, I will not live in my house apart for breaks, and will not see my family as often. My high school friends will not surround me 24/7, and the semi-friends and acquaintances in my life will (probably) utterly dissipate. I won’t take any more high school classes, I won’t play high school soccer, and I’ll be living in a completely new place. I’ll make new friends and be introduced to new things. I’ll be taking higher level classes and will be given more choice than ever in which courses I’ll have. I’ll have to start blazing a path for myself in the real world.  It’s such a crazy thought!

Again, it was one of those bittersweet moments. I will absolutely, truly miss this part of my life. Moving on to new things, and letting go of the old, is…pretty scary. However, I refuse to depress myself more because time is passing by so quickly, and I have limited time in high school left. I can only make the next few months the best I can possibly make them, because life is relentless and will not stop. Additionally, college is (supposed to be) awesome, and I am equally excited to pursue higher education and essentially build a new life, hopefully bettering myself in the process.

Lately my depression and anxiety has been hindering my ability to live up my last year as a high school student, but after this mini epiphany, I am determined to enjoy this last year.

As far as my college applications go, I’ve actually managed to squeeze some time in to work on the remaining parts, and now I should have more time to complete them without soccer six days a week. I finally chose the topic for my college essay too. I will be discussing my experience with the New Jersey Scholars program, when, during a group interview, I was humiliated by a Harvard graduate/Princeton professor. I mean, I think that’s pretty unique.

Also, I’m visiting Arcadia University tomorrow! It should be pretty fun-my Aunt went there when it was Beaver college, and she’s going with us, so that should be pretty cute.

Stay tuned-soon I’m going to need people’s opinions on a very important survey!

Howdy

I love greeting people with howdy. So, howdy y’all, I have not blogged in a long time, due to a mixture of so much to do in so little time, between schoolwork and soccer, and, when I do have spare time, often being too unmotivated to write, which is quite upsetting.

I do not know if readers have recognized this yet, but I have been seeing a psychologist for the treatment of  depression  and anxiety (I could go back and see if I ever blatantly mentioned this, but I’m far too lackadaisical). Last night was a pretty exhausting session, but I’m attempting to be hopeful and say I’m recovering and moving forward.

Interjection for a funny little story:

One day I was at the psychologist, and I brought up how even when I make minute mistakes, they can make me feel stupid in the most upsetting way possible. After discussing the matter for a few minutes, she began to ask me some seemingly random questions. She inquired if, whenever I have to clean a room (her example was a living room), I was upset if everything was not put back in exactly the same spot as I had found it. I of course, responded no, because it does not bother me.

Then she asked if I kept my room neat, which I overtly laughed at, because my room could be considered a war zone some days.

At first, I was vaguely interested in why she was asking me these questions, wondering if this was going to become some grand metaphor that held the key to curing depression and conveyed the meaning of life. She continued to question me. Did I count in an unusual way? If I stepped on a crack did I have to step back and go over it again without stepping on the crack?

Then I’m like…wait…does she think I have OCD? I sort of laughed internally at the thought, and whatever path she was treading upon she must have abandoned after I answered the questions, because she did not bring it up again. But just now I looked up legitimate symptoms of OCD, and I actually have some of them…but then again, for a time I was also convinced I have borderline personality disorder or bipolar disorder, so it’s not like self diagnosis is useful in any way.

The End.

Homecoming was a little over a week ago, I think (the past month or so is a big blur). I went with my girlfriends who took quite some time to get ready, and then we had to wait for my one friend’s parental units to arrive to ogle her, so we were sort of late. My boyfriend had to wait outside in the cold (poor guy). But it was fun and I danced a lot with my boyfriend and with my friends. My boyfriend and I have been going out for about a year now; though we do not have an official start date, we were first most evidently a couple at the homecoming dance last year.

My one best friend went with a boy who was apparently flirting with a ton of girls-and did not recognize the fact all the girls were friends and would inform each other of his shenanigans. So, whenever he attempted to dance with her, I would place my hands on his chest, gently push him away, stand between them, and dance with her. And it worked quite nicely, especially with my other best friend also partaking in this activity.

Before the dance I warned my boyfriend of the situation, and I told him that, if I saw the kid, I would need to him to hold me back (to, yanno, prevent me from murdering him). So, as we were waiting in line to get into the dance, I turned and saw the boy, and started slapping the crap out of my boyfriend, telling him repeatedly to “hold me back”…it took him a moment to understand, so it was just me grabbing his arm and shouting at him to “hold me back”. Must have been an amusing scene. During the dance he kept turning us so I was as far away from the boy as possible.

All I can say is good riddance to a bad seed.

So what else have I been up to? Soccer mostly. I have (mostly) accepted my position as team benchwarmer (along with a fellow senior), and now it’s the postseason, so there are a few more players the coach brought up from Junior Varsity to theoretically play with us, but they usually just sit the bench with me. However, I have been chosen as a penalty kicker if the need arises, which is a frightening thought, especially after today when, during practice, I only made one out of four shots.

My team was ranked 16th out of 16 seeds in our group, and we faced the number one team on Tuesday.

And won. =D

It was an amazing thing to behold-even if I did not get to play, I felt like a part of the team. We move on to the second round tomorrow and play a pretty tough team. I’m just praying it does not go to penalty kicks.

Well, enough rambling for one night. Hopefully I’ll have more time soon to blog consistently. Tchuss!