The "Good" child

I've always thought of myself as being the "good" child growing up. The one that did what I was supposed to for the most part. The one that did well academically. The one that didn't seem to cause too many problems.

Sure I got into trouble several times as a child. Particularly when I was in Elementary School. I admit that I pushed things a bit too far at times.  I even got ISS a few times. I didn't always learn my lesson the first time and I was punished when I got into trouble.

But still, I was generally a good child. Most of my teachers remember me not because I was a big troublemaker because I really wasn't, but because I was a high achiever in class. I always tried hard to do well and most of my teachers could tell I just had the drive to succeed.

They aren't at all surprised when I've told them I was working on my Master's degree. They knew I was going to go far in my education.

 My parent's never were overly concerned with me when it came to my academics. I just generally always did well. Now whether it was for them or me or for someone else that I did so well, I really don't know.

I just did well in school. If I struggled with something, my parents were concerned and try to do what they could to help me. They would talk to the teacher if necessary.

When my struggles in Math reached their peak during 7th grade, they were really concerned. The sacrificed much of their Saturday's to drive me to the Sylvan Learning Center in Las Cruces to help me get back on track.

Anytime I struggled with something in school, they would try to help me even in High School.

When it came time for me to graduate from High School, they were never concerned that I wouldn't. Same when I graduated from college. It has never been a question of IF I would graduate.

So yeah, I've always considered myself to be the "good" child.  The one who just seemed to do well and not have a whole lot of problems.

But now the more I think about it. Perhaps I wasn't such a "good" child after all. I mean I was but I would never have thought that being a "good" child, meant that I would be struggling with things like I am now.

Honestly, I had problems growing up as a child. I had my share of struggles. Yet I never really thought that those struggles would cause such problems later in my life.

I honestly never thought I would end up in therapy because of some of these problems.

My older brother had some difficulties too growing up. He wasn't like me when it came to academics.

Like I said, I seemed to do everything right. But that was what he told me to do. My brother didn't 
 want me to turn out like him. He would try to make sure that I wasn't making the same mistakes he did and he would tell me that constantly.

Maybe it's because of him telling me that I ended up trying so hard at things. Maybe I pushed myself more because I didn't want to end up like him; I didn't want to make the same mistakes.
Maybe this is ultimately the reason I try so hard; that I'm so afraid of failing.

If you've read my previous blog, then you know how my brother and I were punished whenever we got into trouble.

 My mom has at least apologized for this punishment. She feels that it's because of that punishment that my brother and I are struggling with the problems we are now. She had recently heard information regarding how this particular punishment could have an impact on mental health.

Perhaps she's right.  But the thing is that I don't blame her or my dad regardless. Not really. I mean it's hard not to feel that it is partly their fault but at the same time, I don't blame them for what they did. I don't really resent them.

But the fact remains, that both my brother and I have some mental health issues. My brother has depression and it's an official diagnoses. For me, I'm not sure if I have a specific diagnoses but I do know I have some anxiety issues.

I know we both have problems and perhaps there is some sort of genetic link. It's entirely possible.

The point is that I never would have thought I would be someone who would be struggling right now. I mean after all I was the "good" child. 

The thing is that my life seemed to be pretty good. I seemed to be getting through ok for the most part. Yet somehow, here I am in therapy right now and somehow I feel like I'll be in therapy for quite some time.

Then again, perhaps it isn't too surprising that I ended up in therapy after all. Maybe things just weren't all that great as I thought growing up.

I don't feel so much like the "good" child anymore. Not lately. Not with all the problems I seem to be having.

I'm in therapy because I'm having difficulties in my life. I can no longer handle things on my own. 

I'm not saying I'm not still a "good" child. Sometimes it just doesn't feel like it so much anymore. 

Revealing secrets

 *Be advised: This is a long blog post. *

This week's session took place yesterday instead of today like it normally is due to my therapist leaving for the Thanksgiving holiday.

As always we covered quite a lot in our hour long session. First of all I told her about finally finding a friend here in Denton. She was very happy to hear this and she knows just how significant this is to me; exactly what it means to me.

We reached a point in our conversation where I struggled to tell her the truth about something. Something I feel I just can't reveal because I'm afraid of what she might think. I'm afraid that she might misunderstand.

The thing is that I don't exactly know why I can't tell her. Why I'm holding this one thing back from her.  I trust her I really do. I know she's just trying to help me. If I can't tell her what's wrong then she can't do much to help me. I have to be honest with her and with this particular thing but I struggle to do so.

I feel like I just can't tell her for some reason. It's hard for me to talk about it. I'm sure it's frustrating to her even though she doesn't give that impression. I just know that if I was her, I'd probably feel a little bit of frustration and perhaps a bit hurt that my client cannot trust me enough to tell the truth.

I guess I'm just afraid. Afraid of what anyone would think by revealing this. Afraid to admit it because then perhaps it would be misinterpreted. Afraid that it might make it seem worse than it really was. That maybe I'd become resentful revealing it.

Yet I have already determined that it's partly because of this that some things are the way they are.

It's just a struggle and honestly  I feel it's the last big thing I'm keeping from my therapist. It's almost like the last piece of the puzzle.  Once I reveal it, I'm sure things will become clearer; make much more sense. Perhaps it's the one thing that will help explain a lot of my problems. I don't know.

I've revealed a lot to her at this point. She knows pretty much everything there is to know about me and my life. I've told her pretty much all I could.  I've told her about my being in counseling previously. I've told her about The Incident. I've told her how I've felt like disappearing for awhile just to not have to deal with some of my problems for awhile. A lot of things I've revealed here in this blog and more, I've told her.

Except for this. This is really the only thing I have left. The last thing I'm keeping from her.
 Perhaps part of me is afraid to reveal all to her? Perhaps I'm afraid to let someone know the real me? Let them get to see the real me? Perhaps I'm afraid to let go entirely and let someone see how vulnerable I really am? Regardless if this person is trying to help me.

Ever since we got to the subject towards the end of our session and I couldn't bring myself to tell her quite yet, I've been struggling with the idea. I'm torn because I want to tell her and I know I should. She deserves to know this in order to be able to help me. But at the same time, there's still the fear of what it might reveal; what it might say about me; what she might think.

After our session, I had another errand to run on campus and just couldn't stop thinking about telling her. By the time I was heading back past the clinic to catch the bus, I had made up my mind: I decided to tell her. I would've gone right into the clinic and told her then if I could. That's how much I wanted to tell her. I just wanted to get it over with before I chickened out again. I even thought about calling her and telling her, although I'm sure that wouldn't be a great idea necessarily. I just have to keep this desire in mind when I go for my next session.

It's not going to be easy to tell her but I just have to do it.  I asked my friend for advice since I know she's also in therapy and she told me to just take a deep breathe and tell her. So that's what I'm going to do.

And there I go again; talking about everything else and basically avoiding the reason I really wanted to write this blog.

The real reason I wanted to write this blog is because I wanted to reveal what it is that I'm struggling to tell my therapist. I've thought about it since last night and I feel like perhaps revealing it in writing; in my blog; will make it easier when I finally reveal it to my therapist next week.  After all, it's seemed to work before.  I've talked about stuff here before I ever mentioned it to my therapist.

I haven't mentioned this but growing up I would get into trouble at school. Knowing me now, many people wouldn't think that I was in ISS (In School Suspension) more than once as a child but I was. I only got into trouble in Elementary School.

I pushed things, I'll admit.  I didn't really learn my lesson the first time when I would get into trouble. There were a few behavioral issues but I wasn't a big troublemaker. I was not the "problem" student at all. In fact, most of my teachers that remember me, remember me as someone who was an overachiever. They remember me in a positive light.  I eventually did improve and by the time I was in Middle School, I was someone who didn't get in trouble.  I was the "good" girl.

Still though, I did get into trouble and I was actually scared to get into trouble. Being that my dad was a P.E. teacher, I was a "teacher" kid.  However, my dad worked on the Air Force Base so I never actually had to deal with him at my school. But, because he was still a teacher, other teachers knew him and would let him know things.

That was the problem. I would get into trouble and usually when I did, my dad would know before I even got home and explained myself. I'll admit that I was afraid to get into trouble even though I still did. It didn't stop me completely. But still, I remember being scared of getting into trouble because of the punishment I would receive as a result. 

Now before I finally reveal what that punishment was, I have a few more things to say.  First off, my parents did the best they could. They were punished as children the same way my brother and I were.
I don't blame them for what they did. They just did the best they could.

Second, I'm almost certain that's it's because of this punishment, that my relationship with my dad isn't as close as it could be. I'll admit that it was because of this punishment that I was also scared of my dad. He was the stricter parent.  Still though, I loved my dad and I still love my dad. I really do.

I also just want to say that the punishment is a bit controversial and I guess that's also partly why I'm afraid to say it. Because people have different opinions on this. I also just want to say that the punishment might make it seem as though my dad was a terrible person and that's not true at all.

*takes deep breath* 

The punishment was that my dad would spank me with a belt on my bottom whenever I got into trouble.

It's hard for me to admit this. It really is. It's a painful memory of mine. I honestly still cringe at the thought of this punishment.

Did it teach me a lesson? I don't really know. Maybe. But it certainly has impacted me. I know it's impacted my relationship with my dad. I'm not really that close to him. I mean, I'm close to him but I'm certainly closer to my mom than I am to my dad. I really think this is a reason why. As it is, I think I'm still a bit afraid to talk to him.

I sometimes feel as though that he doesn't really understand me. That he expects different things from me or wants me to be different than what I am.

Again, this is how he was raised. How both my parents were raised. They were both punished this way.  That's just how they were disciplined and how they chose to discipline my brother and I. I admit that I don't like it and I'm sure it has had an impact on both me and my problem. I wouldn't doubt that it's because of this that we both have some mental health issues.

I've heard the arguments for and against spanking. That's why I say it's a controversial subject. Some people see no problem with it and others say it's wrong. I think it's because of this controversy that I'm afraid to tell this to people.  Being the librarian I am, I've done some research online that spanking contributes to some issues. But I've heard other people say they were punished the same way as children, and they grew up to be just fine.
Maybe I'm just a more sensitive individual and this greatly impacted me even though I didn't really know it until now. I just know I didn't like it when I was a child. I was afraid.

As long as I'm being honest here, I feel like I should also mention that there were a few times when I was almost a teenager and when I was a teenager that my dad pointed out my weight to me. He thought a few times I was putting on a bit of weight. It hurt me to hear that but I guess it didn't impact me that much. At least not from what I can tell. I say this because I never really focused on my weight. I didn't go to the extremes dieting or exercising or anything like that. I never even developed an eating disorder either because of this.

I've never been terribly overweight or skinny. I've never really had a really big problem with my weight or anything.  I've pretty much always considered myself to be average in terms of my weight. I've never even really been someone who ate a lot of junk food to begin with. I've also never really been all that athletic. I'm not a big sports person or even exercise person really.  I know I could be more in shape than I am right now but it's not something that really bothers me a great deal. I know that there are some things I cannot do because I'm not all that strong. I don't do a lot of exercise and I know it. I know I should try to get more into shape. But the point is that I'm generally fine with the way I am right now.  Yet sometimes I feel as though my dad isn't that fine with how I am.

Now looking at all this, maybe this does explain a lot in terms of my problems. Maybe I just don't give such things enough thought as contributing to my problems now.

At least I'm being honest now. I'm trying to be honest. Perhaps admitting these things here will make it easier for me to admit to my therapist on Wednesday.

I'm hopeful about it. It's not going to be easy but after admitting it here, it seems like it's going to be easier. I can do it now. I have to do it.

Wish me luck!

Friendship and Feelings

I've got a lot on my mind right now. Which really isn't all that new.

However, I feel as though something has changed about me. Something is different and has been such since yesterday and specifically since last night.

Last night, I met up with someone with whom I'm Facebook friends with but had never met in person. In other words, we were strictly online friends.

I found this person through Tumblr several months back. The Tumblr was called "This is what a Librarian Looks Like" and is basically a Tumblr dedicated to breaking down the stereotypes of what a Librarian looks like. Librarians are shown hiking, riding motorcycles, with crazy colored hair and doing all sorts of things that people wouldn't think a librarian would do.  Library science students and librarians of all types are invited to submit photos.

Well, this one person submitted a picture of herself wearing a Hufflepuff Team Captain Quidditch shirt. I recognized the shirt right away as I own the exact same one myself from Teefury. She also said how she was a SLIS (School of Library and Information Science) student at UNT (University of North Texas).  Plus she said she loved Harry Potter! I was interested to know more about her right away based on the information she posted. Mostly the fact that she owned the same T-shirt as I did and was a grad student attending the same university as I was, was what got me intersted to know more about her.

I reblogged the post commenting on it and hoping that she would respond back but I didn't want to wait. Here was someone that I could potentially get to know more about and maybe even possibly get to be friends with.

So being the Librarian I am, I decided to search Facebook to see if perhaps she had a profile. I guess I figured someone who knew enough about Tumblr to submit a photo of themselves would have a higher chance of  being on other social media sites too.

It turns out I was right. She did have a Facebook profile. It turns out that she was actually living in Denton which made me even happier.  I sent her a message just saying hi and telling her that I'd seen her photo submission.

A few months later she responded back. It had taken her awhile because Facebook hadn't let her known she had a message for some reason. She also sent a friend request which I accepted right away.

From then on we were Facebook friends but it wasn't until the beginning of this semester that I considered perhaps meeting up with her in person. I've been looking for a friend here in Denton for some time now but hadn't had much luck.  From what I knew about her, she seemed like someone I could be friends with in person.  I figured I'd at least try.

So I asked her if we could meet up sometime. She agreed that we should meet up but unfortunately, she wasn't able to right at the beginning of the semester since she worked in the undergraduate admissions office and was extremely busy.

I wanted to give her time for things to calm down before we tried to meet up and so I let time go by. Eventually things just got really busy with me and I sorta forgot about it for awhile. I mean, I didn't exactly forget entirely but basically we were both just so busy with our own lives that it wasn't exactly a big priority at the moment.

I've been struggling with loneliness in addition to other things for the longest time. Loneliness increasingly so this semester. I've just really been wanting a friend this semester. Someone here that I could just call and talk to or even  just to hang out with. But with so little time left before I graduated and moved, I didn't think  I'd ever find someone and basically just started giving up.

Then things got really difficult for me this week. I guess things just reached a breaking point of sorts and I felt I could just really really use a friend.  Therapy has been great and it certainly has helped but I only go once a week and sometimes it just seems like a really long time from one session to the next. Plus with only about an hour a week, sometimes not everything gets covered.

I just really need someone else to talk to. Someone close by. I can't talk to my family since they're actually part of some of my problems. All my other friends are way too far away to be of much help. My Oklahoma friends have lately been too busy with their own lives and own struggles to really be online when I've needed them. Basically at this point, I've just felt like I've been left alone. That no one is there for me when I need them. That no one really seems to care.

I've mostly kept this feeling of me feeling so alone to Twitter and Tumblr and here. I haven't really said much on Facebook. I'm not entirely sure why that is but I guess part of it is because I have family and good family friends on there. Perhaps I just never wanted them to be overly concerned about me when there was no real reason for concern. But on Monday, I finally posted something about it. I tried to be honest and just say how I could use a friend and how I've tried to find one without much luck.

Not long after that, I received a message from the fellow SLIS student. She had seen my status update and it reminded her that we still hadn't gotten together. She wanted to meet up  and wanted to know when I'd be free in the evening. I told here I was free anytime and we set up a meeting at a coffee shop downtown for last night.

Last night, we met up and it was great. The only thing was that some random drunk guy joined us. He was a friendly guy though but he was just completely drunk and you could tell. He certainly made the conversation interesting. Despite this, I still had a good time.

I was a bit nervous prior to meeting her since I only knew from online. It's just how things are.  Also since the last time I had met up with an online friend in Denton, things didn't exactly work out afterwards. I guess I was just hoping this time would be different.

But things went great and I felt at ease with her even with the random guy joining in.  Afterwards, she asked if I was doing anything on Saturday and when I told her I wasn't, we made plans to meet up again. Honestly, I think we both just wanted to try again to get to know one another without having a random drunk guy join in.

I don't know what it is though but already I'm feeling better about things. I don't feel nearly as alone as I have before. Even though, I still really don't know her that well yet. Still there's something that tells me that she and I are going to get along just fine. I get a positive vibe from her and I think it helps knowing that she's going through some of the same things I have in terms of the Library program. That wasn't the case with the other two Denton people I'd met up with before.
She's also the same age as I am and again, that helps a great deal.

 It's just weird I guess. I already feel much better about things and yet, I barely know her! One night of conversation in which it wasn't even just the 2 of us and already I feel different. I feel like things are starting to look up. Things just seem more positive.  It's like I already feel a bit of weight has been lifted off my shoulders.  I have a feeling that things will improve even more after Saturday.

I needed this to happen and now that it has, I can only hope that things are going to start improving. The downside is that I've probably finally found a friend and now I'll be leaving her. I plan to stay in contact with her though. Still though, if I had only been able to have found her earlier. Perhaps things would have been even better than they are now. I know they would have been. Some of the things I'm dealing with in therapy now probably wouldn't be problems.

My therapist this semester has been amazing and she's certainly been helping me a great deal. I feel as though things have certainly improved.  In fact I'm actually a bit sad that I'm going to be moving when I feel as though we've begun making serious progress. I feel bad about having to leave her after only being with her for a semester and I wish that didn't have to happen. But it does.

She's done so much for me this semester and at least I know I have someone to talk to on a weekly basis. Still though, I know I need support from someone else other than her. That it would help to have someone else besides her that can support me and help me further. I need someone else I can trust and so far I haven't had that. So far I've had to deal with things all on my own without the support of anyone else. I need someone else to help me continue to improve.  I hope I have finally found that here. I'm just tired of trying to handle things all on my own with what feels like no support from anyone else because I really don't have anyone else.

Between my therapy session on Wednesday and my meeting up with a new possible friend, already things seem to be doing better for me. Less stressful. I guess I just also needed to get out. I guess I've just been pretty much stuck inside my apartment too long that I don't really know what it's like to get out and be with other people. Again though, I haven't exactly had a lot of people to go out with either. Still though, it's what I needed and I'm extremely grateful for it.

I've just in general felt a lot better since yesterday. I feel less stressed. More relaxed. The pressure and stress I've been feeling the past few weeks is still there but it doesn't seem as bad right now. I think a combination of therapy and meeting up with someone has a lot to do with it (That and partly due to the fact that I went to the chiropractor for an adjustment today. I just feel very relaxed at the moment).

Switching topics here now, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately regarding therapy. I mentioned yesterday how my therapist noticed that I brushed over feeling inadequate; that she stopped me and ask me directly about it and that's when I broke down. It's happened before. I've mentioned how during other sessions she's asked me how I felt about things and I would give a long drawn out answer that didn't really answer the question. That I basically just gave a ran around and didn't really give an answer.  I still trying to figure out why this is exactly. Why I just can't seem to give a straight answer about how I'm feeling. At least in conversations with my therapist that is. I seem to have no problems expressing how I feel in my writing. At least that's how it seems. Then again, I don't think I've really ever been able to express how I feel verbally to people. It's like I'd rather not talk about how I really feel. At least not in person. I'll express myself in my writing but when it comes to telling someone face to face how I feel, I can't seem to do it Which now that I think about it is actually partly why Twitter person got upset with me. I wrote about how I felt rather than actually telling her in person. Then again though, I really couldn't tell her in person since we didn't really hang out together. Also I'm not sure I would've be able to tell her how I really felt to her face.

Even when someone is trying to help me, I can't seem to tell them how I really feel emotionally.  I mean, I should be telling my therapist exactly how I feel. She needs to know what I'm feeling in order to better understand the situation and to better be able to help me. She's asking because it's important.
Yet I don't get why I can't just be honest even with her. Again, I don't seem to have any problems writing about my emotions. Sometimes I wish I could just send her to this blog or even my Writing Tumblr blog. I honestly feel as though she'd gain a better understanding of me and my emotions about things that way than from me telling her.  I feel that she'd find a lot more about me and pick up on patterns. Sometimes I just feel it would be easier that way. I just seem to be better at written expression rather than verbal expression. I just wish I knew why this is.

I want to be able to tell her how I honestly feel about things but I just seem to be unable to do so.  I feel as though we had another breakthrough moment during our session on Wednesday so perhaps I'm getting there.

As of right now though, things just seem to be looking up. I'm hopeful that things continue that way. 

Stupid

Stupid.

Inadequate.

This is the takeaway from today's therapy session. This is what I must also reflect on this week.

How many people have felt these way? My guess is pretty much everyone at some point in their lives. Who hasn't felt stupid or inadequate? 

The problem is that many of us know we aren't stupid but somehow we still believe we are.

This is me. I know I'm not stupid. I've certainly proven it enough through my education.  I'm about to graduate with a Master's degree! I should know I'm not stupid!!

Yet for some reason, I still think I am. I still don't believe I'm not.
 
This week's therapy session was a bit of a breakthrough moment for both me and my therapist. In fact, I even made her emotional at one point.

I managed to keep my emotions mostly in check this week at least until we started talking about me feeling inadequate and then I just lost it completely.

As always, a lot was discussed prior to this. I honestly can't remember what we were discussing exactly before we got to talking about feeling inadequate.

I just remember talking about so much: being scared of growing up; making decisions; finding a job; feeling pressured by family. Being afraid to find a job because I was afraid I'd be thrown into something and not know how to do it.

It was at this point, my therapist asked about if there was a time where I was thrown into something and didn't know what to do which led me to bring up my School Library class in which she asked me to talk more about it.  I just remember talking about it. Telling her how I struggled with it. Telling her how everyone else was in the School Library program and I wasn't. Telling her I felt like I was just thrown into something that I really didn't understand. I basically was telling her that I felt inadequate but not saying it directly and brushing over that fact. At some point, I was just talking about it when she stopped me and asked me  if I felt like I was inadequate. She had noticed that I  just brushed over the fact. That I didn't exactly say I felt inadequate so she asked me directly.  I lost it. It hurt to admit that I did feel inadequate; that I felt stupid. I did feel like I was stupid. That was exactly how the class made me feel. I often said I felt stupid during the course of taking the class.

Hearing my therapist say it to me; point it out to me; was hard and I think that's really why I lost it. It was just really hard to admit that. It's always been hard for me to admit feeling stupid even though I've most certainly felt it. I've said it to myself too but it's different hearing someone say it to you and to understand where you're coming from; read between the lines essentially, it's just a little overwhelming.

It really hurt to say I felt stupid but it got me thinking about other times I've felt like this.  I'm supposed to reflect and think about this. To be honest, I've already been thinking about this a lot since after our session. It's come to my attention that in reality, I think I've almost always felt stupid. Not all the time of course but when I struggled at something I certainly did.

For instance, when I had trouble with Math in school, I felt stupid because I just wasn't getting it. I remember being in 2nd grade and taking timed addition and subtraction tests, I never did very well.
I  had to count my fingers which slowed me down. I did that a lot and still do sometimes when I have to add or subtract.  I didn't have addition and subtraction facts down. It was mostly math class where I struggled and often I did feel stupid. Especially when I could see other classmates getting the concept but not me.

Then there's the time in High School where I struggled with European History AP. I just could not get the dates and information  to stick in my brain for tests. Especially when we had to write essays for the tests. Again, I felt stupid because I'd see other people doing well but not me.

Could this be the reason I try so hard to do well? Because I want to prove I'm not stupid? Is that also why I'm so afraid of failing? Because I'm afraid people will think I'm stupid if I do fail?

I've never really considered this possibility. It's something that has been brought up as a possibility before but I've brushed it off a bit. I just didn't think it was really something to consider but perhaps it has more to do with it than I originally thought. I've feel like I've been searching for something more concrete. But what if this is the whole reason for things being the way they are?

I've mentioned that I was picked on as a kid and how the other girls in my girl scout troop often left me out of things. Could this be why? Because they thought I was stupid? Did perhaps at some point someone call me stupid and I felt that I had to prove to them I wasn't? Was there a point during the times I was picked on that someone called me stupid and did I just eventually come to believe it after awhile even though I knew I wasn't?

Again,  I've been searching for something more concrete to explain my problems. Some sort of specific incident that could have led me to where I am now. Yet, what if there really is nothing concrete. What if it's just this? That I was called stupid at some point by someone being mean to me. Did it just happen so much that I eventually start believe it and retaliate by working harder to prove I wasn't? Could it just really be that simple of a solution?

And yet, there is that question: If it's so simple how and why did it cause such a problem for me? Many people have been called stupid. Many people have been picked on. If this is really the answer, then why did I react so differently? Why am I now struggling so much with being afraid of failing?

Could this really be the answer I've been searching for? Did something like this subconsciously impact me and I didn't realize it until now?

I've searched and searched and I've come up empty for a concrete solution.

I know I'm not stupid and yet, I guess I sometimes still feel like I am.

Lucky

Ever since reading a blog post from a YouTuber regarding this word, I've been finding myself struggling to use this word accurately. I've had moments where I use the word but then I stop and think if that's really the correct word to describe. I feel weird when I now use that word because of what such person said.

Still though sometimes it cannot be helped but feel that such word accurately describes how I feel about things. I don't mean the word in a negative connotation either but I really don't know what other words to use.

For example, I feel that the fiveawesomegirls truly are lucky to have the friendship they do. I'm not saying that they don't deserve each other or anything like that. I'm glad they found each other and became such good friends. They are all wonderful people. I think it's lucky that they have such a wonderful friendship because some of us aren't so fortunate when it comes to our friends. I'm just saying that I envy them and their friendship. I don't exactly have a lot of friends and I've really really struggled to make and even keep many of my friends. So whenever I see a group of friends like them, it makes me envy their friendship. It makes me wish I had the type of friendship they have. I just feel like they are lucky to have such a wonderful friendship since not everyone does.
It's not that I'm a terrible friend or anything. Things have just happened. Most of it was because my friends did something to break my trust. In other words, they weren't a good friend to me.I've finally found some good friends but our friendship could use some improvement.I still wish for the type of friendship others have.

Then there's the whole relationship thing. I envy Hank and The Katherine's relationship. The are lucky to have found each other and just seem so perfect for each other. I know not every relationship is perfect though. Still though, I can't help but wonder if I'll ever find the right guy for me and have the sort of relationship that they do. I've never been in love. I've never been in a relationship. Many people I know have. Many of my friends have. But me? No. Never. So yes, I do envy them. I do think they are lucky to have found someone because I don't even know what it's like.  People can spend years searching for the right person and never find them. Sometimes people just find the right one from the get go (I know of at least 2 classmates where this was the case).  Yes, quite a bit of it is luck in this case.

Finally there's the whole thing with job hunting. I've applied for at least 2 positions already. Both are Youth Librarian jobs (1 Teen and 1 Children) and both are in San Antonio; my ideal location. I meet the qualifications already. Now I'm just waiting  so I can decide what my next move is.
In this case, it mostly is luck after meeting the qualifications and submitting all the necessary information. If I sound like a potential candidate, I could get called for an interview. If everything goes well during the interview, then I might get the job. It all depends on who else applied, how many applied, how well the interview went, etc.  It is mostly luck in cases like this. I could do well on the interview and impress them and still not get the job. Sometimes luck does have a lot to do with it. Ive already worked hard to get to this point but now, it's not really in my hands.

Going back to "lucky". Yes, sometimes it's not always luck that leads people to get to where they are. People work for it. But yet, sometimes people aren't as fortunate in comparison to others. People feel that others are lucky because they could be envious or jealous.

I do believe that sometimes it is just simply luck that has gotten people to where they are. It's just how things worked out for them. Sometimes it is about taking a chance in life and just being fortunate enough that everything turned out. Luck isn't the only thing though. It's also about hard work and sacrifice.

So "lucky"? Perhaps it's not such an absurd word after all. 

Sometimes I just wish I had a bit more of it myself.

Decisions

Another therapy session where much was discussed. If your wondering, I'm in psychotherapy to be specific. I found that information out fairly recently.

This week we talked about a lot of things. I told her that I was tired. Tired and stressed out. I've been stressed out almost nonstop since the ultimatum was set and I had to begin applying for jobs. Too much going on. Everything is just happening way too fast for me. Everyone is putting pressure on me. So much that I'd rather give up just to not have to deal with it anymore. There's just so much going on with me emotionally and mentally. It's just hard to know where to begin sometimes.
Then there's the fear I'm dealing with about not knowing what's happening after December. As it stands, December is it for me. I can't see past December. I don't know anything about after December and it scares me.  The uncertainly frightens me. My future right now looks cloudy.

On the plus side, I at least managed to keep my emotions during my session more in check this week. I felt like I didn't break down nearly as much. I still cried but it wasn't like it has been previously. I teared up but was able to keep myself calmer. Keep myself together more.

Basically, a lot was discussed today. At one point my therapist could just feel how frustrated and pressured I've been lately.  She  understands what I'm dealing with.

Again it was asked if I've ever gotten so depressed that I wanted to hurt myself. Again the answer was no. It's not something I've ever consider. No matter how depressed I've gotten or how terrible I've felt, I've never considered hurting myself.  I don't really know why either.  I don't understand why I've never considered that but I just haven't. I just find it interesting. According to my therapist, she thinks maybe it's because some part of me still feels hopeful. Maybe she's right. She feels hopeful and I guess I do too most of the time. That's why I'm in therapy. Because part of me feels like things can change.  

At the end of today's session she told me she got the sense that I want her to tell me what to do. That I'm clueless of what to do.  I honestly felt guilty about her saying that because honestly, that's exactly what I want her to do. I've felt this way for some time but just haven't come right out and said it. I haven't really confronted it until now. I do want her to tell me what to do. Mostly because I no longer know what to do.

I feel so lost. I really have no idea what I should do anymore. It's never been really easy for me to make decisions to be honest. But now, it seems nearly impossible for me to decide. I don't really know what I should do anymore. I don't know which way to go. I'm just so lost and so confused.

I feel like I just can't make decisions on my own anymore. Not that I've ever been able to on my own without some sort of struggle. 

I just feel like I need help to make decisions. I feel like I've tried to decide things but have failed to make the right ones. I've tried on my own and things haven't turned out the way I've expected. Therefore, I no longer trust myself to make decisions on my own.

The thing is that I don't exactly want her to tell me what to do because I don't feel like she can do that. Then again maybe she can. I mean, after all, it's me that's making the decision not her. But I do want her to at least help me be able to make decisions on my own. I want to her to help me be ok with my decisions and not regret them.  Because that seems to be what I do sometimes.

I'm just dealing with so much right now it's hard for me to do much of anything.  I think my struggles with making decisions came from the chaos of not making the program in Oklahoma. Maybe that's where my problems really began. Although, I'm almost certain that it's been a longer process than that. That everything has just built up to now.

I just feel that I had made decisions to stay in Oklahoma and when things didn't happen, I no longer knew what to do.The uncertainty about my future just freaked me out too much. I made decisions that while I don't exactly regret, I often wonder if they were really the right decisions after all. Like moving here for instance. I feel like I didn't get much of a chance to think about things before deciding. Again, everything just happened so fast. I made decisions quickly.

Looking back, I wonder if I really made the right decisions. I don't know and perhaps it's partly because of that that I'm struggling now.

I'm lost. I'm confused. I feel like I no longer know what to do anymore.

Things

 I just have a lot of things on my mind.A lot of random things that don't really have a connection. I figured I'd write a blog post and sort of combine everything into one post.

As it gets closer to me graduating with my Master's and thus essentially ending my schooling, I can't help but think about my life as college student and what it's been like.  I'm not a great college student. I don't really consider myself to be the ideal college student. I'm not talking about not doing well or anything like that. What I'm referring to is the fact that I didn't read the assigned readings half the time for anything.  I often waited until the last minute to do assignments. There was a couple of times, I failed to turn in any assignments or turned in only half-done assignments. Admittedly there were a couple times that I didn't go to class as an undergrad student (I overslept).  I realize I'm not unusual in terms of a college student. That many others have done the same things I've done. I guess the point is that I'm far from being the ideal college student. I'm not the "perfect" idea of what a college student really is. I've worked hard to get where I am in terms of my accomplishments don't get me wrong but in comparison to others, I probably have taken a bit of the easy way out. But I still got thru. I still managed to pass everything and get to the point I am. I'm just saying that I'm not the ideal college student. I don't see myself as being one.

I've been extremely stressed about applying for these two librarian job positions in San Antonio.They sound almost too good to be true and I'm getting my hopes up. I mean the fact that there are (at least) two positions that are exactly what I'm looking for and in one of my ideal locales, just makes it seem almost too perfect.   I'm hoping that maybe I'm just this lucky and will possibly get one of these positions. But it just seems like it's all happening way too fast. Everything is happening too fast for me to keep up.  It's just stressing me out. This is my first real big job and I just want everything to go well. Yet the thought that I might actually get one of the positions is scary too because I just don't feel ready. It's complicated because while I can see myself as being a librarian, I also can't.  Still though, I want to do well and if everything does go well, this could be a good thing for me.

I mentioned in a previous blog post how we got to talking about my parents in therapy this week. I have to admit that my dad was a bit disappointed over the fact that neither me nor my brother had interest in sports. My brother and I were interested in the arts. My brother was into theater and I was into music.  Even my nephew isn't into anything sports. He like art and video games.  None of us are athletic like my dad was. My dad was into sports as a child and he was a Physical Education teacher.  I know he wanted my brother and I to be interested in sports too but neither of us ever were.
My brother tried different sports like soccer when he was a child. The only sport I ever really tried was gymnastics and I wasn't very good.  I know it took my dad time to get used to the fact that neither his kids nor his only grandson were interested in sports and sometimes I think it still bothers him. Perhaps this is where I get my idea of disappointment. I don't think so though. Even if that's partly the case, I don't blame my dad for any of it.

There's also the fact that because I've never been athletic, I'm not exactly skinny. But at the same time I'm not extremely overweight either. I consider myself to be average body type.  It's never really bothered me that much but it has been pointed out to me several times by my father.  I'm actually surprised it hasn't bothered me more than it has. It has bothered me though and there have been times I've felt hurt about it. Still though, I'm really surprised that I'm not stressing over it as much as would be expected. Don't get me wrong, I feel like I could lose a few pounds but I'm not exactly stressing over it. As it is, I don't eat a lot of bad food to begin with and I've been trying to cook more and avoid eating a lot of TV dinners.  I don't exactly exercise much but I have tried to be a little more active. I walk and I dance. I'm so far doing ok in terms of my health. As for my weight, so far my doctors haven't said anything about it and really as far as I can tell, I don't seem fluctuate very much. My weight seems to have stayed about the same for some time. In other words, I'm pretty ok with how I am right now.

I really miss music. I miss singing in the church choir and playing my piano. That music. I don't really know why I haven't played my piano recently. I just haven't. It's not like I don't have time because I do. I just haven't played for some reason. Perhaps I just miss the motivation I used to have when I was taking lessons. I had to practice every day for the next weeks lesson.  Now I don't have that. I think that's why I don't have the motivation. Nothing is motivating me. Yet you'd think that without the motivation, I would also be more excited to be playing. But I'm not.

Then there's the fact that I miss singing in my church choir. Actually I just miss singing in a choir in general. I could join the church choir here but I really don't feel like it. I really haven't felt like singing in church in general. I guess I'm just missing my old church in Stillwater.  I just haven't felt like I'm part of the church here. I haven't felt the connection here.  I haven't found my place. I don't know where to find it either since as I've said, the church doesn't have a lot of young people.

I just get a lot of thoughts on my mind. Especially lately. Just needed to get them off my mind. Thanks for reading a random post.