Yeah. That was totally a, "It's Wingardium LeviOHsa, not LevioSAH" moment.
Anyway. Today is a much better day. It may have something to do with my normally unruly hair cooperating and anxiety medication, but I'm not saying either way.
That's the beauty of struggle. With the steps back come steps forward. Is that too Yoda for 9AM?
So today is the first day back to school after winter break. I know, because there was a sudden influx of sad looking kids in snowsuits shuffling around outside. I know that sad look well. It's one that says, "Really? I'm waking up at 7AM again to go sit in a stinky classroom? God, why hast thou forsaken me?"
It's one that every high school student wears on a daily basis.
And we thought we were excited to grow up. Pshaw.
As per my early morning routine, I'm trying to avoid having to do anything productive. So, I thought that I'd give you my late new years resolutions.
Ready?
1. Finally become able to distinguish between English and Australian accents.
2. Always carry a book in my purse so that in awkward situations, I don't have to pretend like I'm texting someone.
3. Get up the sack to get on an airplane. Not actually fly anywhere, just get the balls to.
5. Convince my mother that Moleskines are good investments.
6. Find a perfume that doesn't smell like pee the second it hits my skin.
7. Widen my collection of hipster jewellery. Forever 21 will work.
8. Sell my hand in marriage for just enough to get the monarch butterfly tattoo I've been wanting for two years.
I found out that there are Supernatural conventions. At first I was all, "I'm too cool for those nerd fests." But then I heard that actors attend them. Actors, like Jensen Ackles. So naturally, I was all
And then I heard that you can actually get your picture taken with the actors. So I was all
But then I heard that it costs 300 dollars to get your picture taken with both Jared and Jensen. Then, I was all
Knowing that there was no way I'd be able to come up with that much cash, I got to thinking, and was all
And then it hit me. What do all crazy fangirls like me do? They stalk stars and accost them at their hotels! I wondered then if that was illegal, but I was all
So, I decided to become a medical experiment monkey to make the cash. But then I got to looking up all the medical experiments I could have done on me for money, and I was all
So that plan didn't work. So then I decided to consider thievery. Knowing me though, I'd get to the first house and be all
So that wouldn't work. Then, I decided on becoming an exotic dancer. But then I remembered that my dancing is all
So that plan didn't work either. Someone suggested I get an honest job and save up, but I was all
Then I realized that if I ever actually met Jensen, I'd be all
I've got a story. It's a sad one, so prepare yourself. I'm going to illustrate the story with pictures to help emotion across. It's called, "transference of emotion".
So I watch Supernatural.
But, it's on break right now.
So there's no new episodes until the 27th.
So, naturally, upon first reading that piece of horrible news, I was all
But then I got the 3rd and 4th season for Christmas, so I was all
But then I found out that everything awesome happens in the fifth season, which I don't own. So I was all
So I thought, "Let's go read fanfiction. That should tide me over." But then I came across a term called Wincest. Not knowing was it was, I read some. And then I was all
So then I actually had to be productive because there was no more Supernatural to distract me. Then, I was listening to the news and they were all, "Supernatural is on this Friday." So I was all
But then I found out that it was just a rerun. So when the news anchor came back on and said that Supernatural was gonna be on on Friday again, I was all
But then I found the fifth season episodes online, so then I was all
Today is a day where I will spend more time crying and generally losing my mind than I will spend time breathing or thinking about Jensen Ackles.
Yes, that bad.
Anyway. One of my previous therapists, who was a lovely woman whose office was tucked into the back corner of my local hospital gave me the magical advice to write down how I was feeling on my bad days.
This instruction was a little bit like flossing. Go with me on this one.
You go to the dentist. The dentist asks how often you floss. You lie and say once or twice daily when the reality is the only floss your teeth sees is in the form of the occasional toothpick after a steak. He examines your teeth, and finds a little work needs to be done. You get your filling, and go on your merry way. For the next two weeks, you floss like it's the only thing keeping all your teeth from spontaneously falling out of your head. Then, as the sound of the screeching drill leaves your psyche, you go back to your old flossing ways. Then your annual dentist appointment rolls around, and the whole cycle starts over again.
What was I saying?
Right. Writing down feelings.
Well, it worked for a while. I'd write every day for a week, and then it was suddenly three weeks later and I'd have no idea where my notebook was. I would also have another appointment, where I'd have to present my notebook for apprasial. I'd apologize, and promise that it'd be done by next session. And the whole cycle started over again.
Back to my point. It's been a bad day. I didn't sleep well last night, even thought I took enough medication to fell a small horse. That's never a good sign in itself. Lo and behold, I wake up this morning already ensconced in a panic attack. Anxiety disorders are no fun, fer serius.
So, I'm being treated to a day of constant fear, and no appetite. I suppose that's not so bad, everything is closed today anyway.
I write this all down in hopes that I can help someone, like that one random person who'll google "panic attacks" and see a post of mine, and click on it on a whim.
To you random person, are you struggling? I sure as hell am.
But there is one thing I know for absolutely certain. This does get better. There are better days, better years.
Some nights you'll experience what I experienced last night. Last night I laid down, pulled my covers up and immediately became overwhelmed at the thought of how I was going to get through the next day.
I won't lie to you, random stranger, or anyone. I have taken those long glances at that bottle of pills and thought about how good it would be to take a nice long nap. I took those glances two years ago, and I took one of those glances today.
But there is one thing that I need to remember, and you the random stranger needs to remember. It gets better. You can win. In that moment of overwhelming fear and helplessness, you can take a baseball bat to your thoughts and rise above them. It's possible, trust me. It's not easy, but it's possible. I don't say this because I have mastered the art of stomping down fear, I say it because I haven't.
Trust me, this can get better. Tomorrow can be a better day, and you don't have to hope for it. You can take your fear and bitchslap it. You can even add in your best gangstur voice, "Bitch, you weak. Next time, I rip out tha nasty ass weave a' yours."
In all fairness, I did forwarn you that I'm a little crazy.
Now, on another note, I bought Linkin Park's new CD on a whim titled "Giftcard for iTunes but nothing to buy... oooh look a shiny".
And call me crazy, but I really, really like it.
Here's one of the songs, plus it's live. It's awesome. Like, party in your pants awesome. You should really click play.
No, not just because I'll be legally able to gamble by the end of the month, though that's pretty awesome.
It's because today is the day where everyone whose brain isn't in an mooshy state known as a "hangover" does something special. So special, that once it's acknowledged, it's never mentioned or thought of again. It's called RESOLUTIONS.
Now that 2011 has crashed the party, it's officially the time to get that paper out and write down your ambitions for the year, only to hide it in a spot so magical that you can never find it again. We humans are funny creatures, really.
Anyway, one of my ambitions/resolutions is to blog at least once a week. I do this not to get rich, though that would be pretty cool. I do this because I feel the inescapable urge to leave a mark somewhere in the world wide web. And, to possibly get rich.
H8ters gon h8.
Anyway. I should probably introduce myself, because any post below this was written by a person who is not me. Except if you go back in time, and then it is me. The me that types these words is almost an entirely different person than the one that wrote those. I mean, that person hadn't even figured out her secret love of slam poetry. Pshaw.
So. My name is Megan, and I'm nearly legal gambling age. Figure that one out at your leisure. I read more books than is probably healthy, and I like to write stories in extensively overpriced journals called Moleskines. I don't have a job, live with my mom, and play a lot of video games.
That last part would be a lot worse if I were male, 30 years older, and 300 pounds heavier, amirite?
If you take a little glance to the left, there is a playlist for your convenience. It contains a few of the many songs that reside on my iPod. Whenever people utter that lovely sentiment to me, "You like weird music," I always give them the same shake of my head and denial. Upon rounding up that playlist, I think from now on I'll agree.
So. What do we know so far, class? Megan, girl, 18, weird music, stories, books. Sounds about right.
I also have what's referred to in some medical circles as "Generalized anxiety disorder", which means I have these things called "panic attacks". I say this, because I'm sure it will come up in the future, so I want to have that part of my insanity explained beforehand. This, combined with an overactive imagination makes me someone who is just a little nuts, but who has badass dreams. Like, I wish I could record my dreams. I would kick Avatar's little blue ass with the stuff my grey matter comes up with.
I also like this T.V show called Supernatural, and may have on occasion thought to myself that I could be okay with polygamy, if I could marry Jensen Ackles. Again, I mention this to forewarn anyone for future posts. Oh, and just saying, Chuck is God. That is all.
So. That's okay as far an introductions go, yes? No? Screw you imaginary audience, I'm not a part of your system.
No, I didn't take that from an SNL skit, and I'm offended you asked.
On the plus side, I googled Tuna Fey instead of Tina Fey today. Didn't get the results I was looking for.
Anyway. Life is back in full swing, now that the summer is over. Grade 11 is good, specifically my math class. My teacher literally used the words, "I don't want to do any math today. Talk amongst yourselves." AWESOME. Fer serious.
Oh, watched A Hard Day's Night on Saturday. John Lennon in a tub full of bubbles? Made my life. xD
Oh, also. Some mildly good news. I won first place in a short story contest here in my hometown. No biggie, right?
WRONG. CUE BRAIN EXPLOSION X INFINITY. :D
Okay. I'm calm. It's okay. :P
Oh, right. Go listen to "Cobrastyle" by Robyn, and "What New York Used To Be" by the Kills. Just do it. :P
