Taking it in Stride

Aint my school perdy

I've been pretty damn good these past couple weeks.
I feel motivated.
I feel fresh.
I feel ready.

And it's a pretty good feeling.

And I've been happy. My mood has been brighter. And I just feel good.
Most of the time anyway.

Why the sudden 180 from the nightmare that was Christmas break?

Over Christmas break my parents had said a number of things regarding my experience with mental illness that, above all, hurt my feelings. Which, yes, sounds very childish. But true.

And I feel horrible that I'm still quite pissed/hurt by it.

Because truthfully, I do have the most supportive parents ever. And they're doing everything they know how to help me me. To try and support me. To get me through this.

I am not unaware of how worried my parents are about me. And I sincerely feel apologetic for it.

And I know that the things they say are well-intentioned, but that doesn't help with the sting that the words leave behind.

What makes it harder is that my parents' opinion of me matters a lot. I want them to be proud of me. I want them to be okay with me. I don't like disappointing them. And while this sounds obvious, I mean it on a deeper level. That my parents' approval holds great weight in my day-to-day life. I always want them to think highly of me. I want to be a perfect daughter to them, because I genuinely believe that is what they deserve. The problem is that it's an impossibly high standard.

Regardless, I just want my parents to think well of me. Or rather, I need them to.

And it can get... exhausting.

You see, when I define myself, I first define myself as the daughter of my parents. They are the most important people to me.

So the words that they say often hold a lot of weight in my mind.

And so, when I'm struggling with depression and anxiety as much as I am. To the point where I needed extensions on 85% of my assignments. To the point where I dropped 2/5 courses. To the point where getting out of bed was a struggle. To the  point where going to class was difficult. To the point where I would constantly scream words of self-loathing and self-disappointment. To the point where I can't focus on homework without getting anxiety. To the point where I have to leave my classes because of anxiety.

Don't tell me I am not trying hard enough. Don't tell me that I am not giving this fight a fair chance.

Because I'm doing everything I can to beat this. Because I'm trying my hardest.

And with my mental health in the dumps, sometimes getting out of bed will be the best I can do.

Sometimes making it to the library is the best I can do - regardless of how much work I can get done.

Keeping it together. Not falling apart. That's the best I can do.

So don't you dare tell me I'm not trying hard enough.

Because I am. And you know what? I had to work very fucking hard to accept that.
That this is my best. That I am trying. Because for the longest time, I wouldn't believe it. I wouldn't give myself that break.

Don't tell me I'm not trying.

Because it honestly hurts.

Because I hear that as "You are going through this as a result of not doing enough. Your depression is a direct result of your lack of effort."

Hey. I'm still here. I'm still in school. I'm taking my meds. I'm going to therapy. I'm pushing myself.

So, how dare you tell me I'm not trying hard enough.
Because you, saying that, feels like disappointment. Feels like disapproval. Feels like I am not being a good enough daughter for you.

And if I'm trying my best, and that's still not enough. Well, what can I do?

My mom's telling my to stop talking about my feelings. That I get too worked up about them.

Sure, cool. But just because I don't say them out loud, just because you can't hear them, doesn't mean those words go away. Because the voice in my head is still there. And if I can't talk to my parents about it, then who?

The fact that what I say when having an episode are dismissed because, to my parents, the "depression is talking." When truthfully, I am saying what I mean. How I'm hurt. How I feel. What I need.

And my voice isn't heard.

Forget my emotions, forget the points I bring up. The first thing that they want to know is if I've been taking my meds. Are my meds even working? Maybe I should try some new ones, they suggest.

And it's so frustrating.

And it hurts so much more because it's coming from my parents.

Home use to be my escape, and now all I want is to escape home.

Why do I feel so good right now?

Because I'm not home. And I feel very guilty admitting that.

But on a less dramatic note, I'm loving my life here.

I've taken the list I made last post pretty seriously, and am working towards it.

So far, I've made some DIY wall art. I'll post it next time.

I also have made a set schedule to go to the gym every weekday with one of my friends. She's fantastic. And quite fit. She's patient with me, and totally motivates me. And she's just really cool and rad. And working out just feels... good.

I have another friend who I am doing weekly lunch/library dates with. She's also the sweetest person ever. And she also motivates me to do work. I just... feel productive around her. And she's just a fantastic human being with a big heart.

I'm able to read through textbooks now too! It's great, and I hope it lasts. It sounds silly, I know. But reading was so incredibly hard and impossible for me last semester. So the fact that I'm able to read and study, only stopping because of boring content - not even because of anxiety - is something. A real big something.

I've tried to keep my like super organized, which has been taking time. But it's so worth it. I have a clean room, a clear desk, and realistic goals. Not to mention I'm trying to get in the habit of punching things into my calendar. And it's been a rewarding feeling.

Also, I've been spending quite a bit of time with my Frosh Group. Which is really just one of my core groups here. Every one of them is so pleasant and lovely, and truly are the highlights of my week. They are just such sweethearts, and they put up with me, and we all just genuinely enjoy each other's company. And it just works. I love it. I love them. I love us.

I think at the end of the day I just need to take this in stride. My therapist and I will work on a letter to send to my parents, calmly explaining to them what I need from them. And confront the whole situation in a less hysterical way that I've been doing. Which I think will help me be at peace with myself. Because as it stands, I just find myself doing a lot of things to avoid thinking about my parents. Or specifically, pry on the hurtful things they said.

When I'm alone, walking to class or whatever, I do feel these waves of sadness. Like I need to cry or release or something.

It makes me nervous that this happy spell won't last as long as I hope/

But I hope to prove that thought wrong.

Remember, self, one thing at a time. Take it in stride.

New Year, Same Fears

Starbucks Christmas Cups 

Well that's a title. So update from the last post - my mental health is not really in the cutest state right now. It's been pretty rough, and because of it first semester has not been as smooth-sailing as I wanted.

But since I started this blog to document my university experience, I think its only fair to let myself do so as half of the school year has already passed.

University in a nutshell: I really, really enjoy it. I like university. University is cool. University can stay.

Keeping on top of my work has been a struggle, as any human university student will tell you. (We don't count the robotic ones. We keep our distance from those.) But considering the fact that depression and anxiety have been kicking my ass, it's been especially difficult to do the basics. Getting out of bed, going outside, eating properly. These are things that I usually don't struggle with, and they have become a bit (read: a lot) more of an effort. And because these things are now hard to deal with, due dates, attendance, and homework are often compromised. Which I already feel like dick about.

But to anyone who struggles with mental health: You're trying. Believe it.

The thing about university...

Breathe. (ft. Sushi)

Mmmmmmmmmmm.

When I am nervous about something, when I have anxiety over something, when I feel that terrible things are going to happen: I run away. Not literally, because the lord knows that running a quarter of a block is enough to get the knock me out. But I do everything in my power to not face the problems at hand, and usually resort to vicariously living through people from TV shows, movies, and/or YouTube. Live through other people's lives to escape my own. To distract myself. And I don't mean confrontational situations either -I actually handle those ones pretty well. Communicating feelings is never a problem in my relationships with others. It's more in the situations that aren't people. Situations where failing is a real possibility (and would impact more than just myself).

For instance: If my friend really upset me, it's easy and natural for me to tell her/him how they hurt my feelings - and we'd usually talk it out and come to a resolve. This is not a problem for me. But in my situation right now: having 20 days to finish an entire grade 12 university leveled course, and only having two and a half days to finish the last quarter. These situations I am terrible at handling. And by terrible I mean that I don't handle it. I run away.

I just avoid thinking about it or dealing with it, because it makes me feel stuck, trapped, and suffocated.  The voice in my head just chants the word "failure" and avoiding the problem altogether seems to be the only way to make it shut it up.

But that's not the way to solve problems. That's not the way to handle situations. It's self-destructive and won't get me anywhere. It's giving up. And that's not good enough. Giving up is not good enough of a reason to fail.

Push forward. Keep pushing. Have you tried your best? No? Well then keep trying.
Try to do your best.
Try your best to do your best.
And keep on going,
keep on keeping on.
Your best is all you can do,
And I mean, if you still are unable to make it.
If you don't quite make it across the finish line this time,
that's alright. It really is.
That's not a failure.
And it does not make you a failure.
Keep your head up high.
Because you what you could.
Even when you felt the odds were against you.
Stand proud.

And try again.
Never stop trying.

And remember to breathe.

Now if only I could listen to myself instead of the nasty 'failure' voice in my head.

P.S. my grandma made sushi and it was gr8.

-Ashley

Early Mornings

way to early for yours truly

Don't really care to go into details about my workload, because shit. (Just that: shit.) But I'll say this: I have been up since 1:00am this morning, working since (roughly) 2:30 am, and it is nearly 10:00 am and I am ready to just cry and give up. But enough about that, this is my happy blog.

As stressed out as I am, at times like these I am reminded how overwhelmingly supportive my parents are. I am so lucky to have the parents that I do. My dad even made coffee for me! (Well, I had to finish it off. But my dad always makes such yummy coffee! He's got the milk-to-sugar ratio down pat.) My parents are also doing my back-to-school/moving-out shopping for me (as I am too busy to do so myself) and my dad got me 4-5 cardboard cases full of Vita Lemon Teas. And omfg I am thrilled beyond belief. That adds up to a grand spanking total of about 150 of these Vita Lemon Tea juice boxes. You guys don't understand - Vita Lemon Tea is my absolute favourite drink. (Well, second to, you know, actual iced lemon tea. And no I don't mean that Nestea garbage. I'm talking about the ones you get at Chinese restaurants.) Happy dancing definitely happened.

Fun pen, pencils, and markers.

My mom also bought me a bunch of pens, pencils, and markers. Markers of every colour ever. Perfect. She also went and bought an entire bedsheets/pillowcases/comforter set for me. (Yay) (I love my mommy)

Anyways, I have to go and be productive or something.

 -Ashley 

Dim Sum Daze

Food. Food. Food. Oh my god. Food. 

So, it turns out that 5:00 am is not a great bedtime when you need to be up be 8:30 am. And I'm paying for it. Man, the eyes can barely stay open. But I'm not new to the game of three hours of sleep, no sir. Me and him are great friends, and we meet each other far more often than I really care to.
But anyway. My family and I went out for dim sum. It was pretty great. I've always loved (loved loved loved loved) dim sum. Seriously. Although, yesterday's (terrible) decision of late night instant noodles made me eat significantly less than I usually do. Eating less is actually something I should work on (or at least that's what my doctor said). Too bad this episode was caused by 3 am instant noodles. Uh -yay health?!

The Restaurant

At Last...

This is Real, This is Me (x)

 After hours of designing and tweaking, I have finally completed my layout!

I mean, it's not the greatest -but it'll do (for now.)

Over the past couple days, I've been hit with a sudden desire to start a 'lifestyle' blog... except I'm not entirely sure what all that entails. But -colour me intrigued!

To be honest, I've just been feeling pretty down lately. Sometimes I get stuck in the waves of negativity. Especially when I'm stressed -and even more so when I feel like I'm about to fail. I do struggle with depression and anxiety, and sometimes its hard to manage -cough- myself during the harder times.But that's not what I want this blog to be about (Besides, I already have a blog where I whine about my feelings and boohoo how hard life is.) I want this to be a blog where I document the great parts of my life. The big, the small, and everything in between. That way, when I find myself in the darker corners, I have a place to remind myself how lucky I am to be ,well,  me. I want to learn how to better cherish the happier moments -and force myself to find more of them (even when it's hard.)

But there are also a zillion other reasons for me wanting to do this.

 I'm entering a pretty exciting (read: horrifying) stage of my life, as I am going to University this coming September. And as if that weren't great (again: horrifying) enough, I am also moving out of home, and into a dorm room. Lucky for me, my roommate is one of my best friends! Cheers to that!
On top of that, I've really wanted to get into DIYs and room decor and artsy-fartsy shtuff. Don't misunderstand -I'm the furthest from being talented in the field of ~le arts~. But it is something that I've been wanting to get into over the past few years. With moving into a dorm and everything, what's a better way to get my DIY and decor on! Right? (Right!)
And maybe I can practice writing coherent (or semi-coherent - don't want to get too ambitious) sentences while at it. Maybe.

I've always been pretty terrible at keeping personal goals, so hopefully this will give me the extra push to bring the projects that I've had in my head (for the past few years) into life.

Here's to trying!

Oop,
And I'm Ashley. I'm basically 19 (in. a. matter. of. days.) and if you can't tell by now, I'm a rambler.


Cool. Coolcoolcool.

-Ashley