Supesss positive.

Hi.

Earlier this evening I had someone ask me how I stay positive all the time.

I told her years and years of practice in turning the negative thoughts positive. Training my brain. And that’s not completely false. But it’s also not completely true.

The truth is I’m not positive all the time. Matter of fact, I’m positive like 30% of the time. And that 30% turns up on social media.

The other 70% is mainly in my head and it’s some heavy shit.

Having depression SUCKS. I know I’ve said this sooooo many times. But it’s the truth. I wouldn’t wish this shit on my worst enemy.

This is going to be a long one, so I hope you’re ready…Here goes nothing. My “positivity” started with middle school bullying.

Yeah, yeah. I know. Everyone was bullied. I’m just not strong enough to hold up to the “poking fun”. Or, it’s middle school—why do I still care? Think what you want, but this was so much more than “poking fun” and it’s not something an impressionable 12 year old just gets over.

I’m crying as I’m writing this because it wasn’t until so many people asked me about my positivity that it really made me think where it came from.

Back in middle school—7th grade to be exact—I had one of the worst years of my life. Sounds dramatic, and maybe I’m being over dramatic, but it’s my trauma—I’m allowed to feel that way. ANYWHO, I had these “friends” in middle school. They were all a lot smarter than me and didn’t have to study nearly as hard to get A’s (or sometimes B’s). These “friends” partnered with my perfectionism and anxiety weren’t a great match. Hindsight is always 2020, right?

I remember it like it was yesterday. We had a huuuuuuge biology exam coming up and I was seriously stressing. It was known to be “the hardest test in all of middle school”. Looking back, it really wasn’t that bad, but for someone with test anxiety and normal anxiety and perfectionist tendencies, it was a big deal.

I shared with my “friends” how stressed I was, asked for study tips, and if we wanted to study together since we all were in the same class. They blew me off and I figured it was just because they were stressing too.

A few days later, we got our grades back on that exam (I got a C by the way—my first C on an exam) and I was crushed. I swore this was going to be my grace for the whole quarter and there would be no going to high school in GT/AP classes with this kind of grade. Regardless of the dramatics, I was crushed and I shared with my “friends” how upset I was.

The next day I found a note in my locker. And although I don’t still have that note, it went something like this…

“Alyssa. Shut the f*ck up. No one cares about you or your stupid grade. It was just a test and you’re being a b*tch about it. Stop being a slut. No one likes to listen to you. Just grow the f*ck up. NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU, SO SHUT UP.”

There were a lot of other profanities, accusations, and honestly pure shit in this letter, but I figured you got the gist.

Did I mention I was in 7th grade? I had never even held hands with a boy, and I only said cuss words when I was jamming out to Avril Lavigne in my bedroom alone. And even then, I whispered them because I didn’t want to get in trouble.

It was after getting this letter that everything seemed to change for me. I started listening to “emo” music. Started wearing all black, and later that year started self harming through restricting my food/skipping meals. Then a few years later, I started cutting. (In case you haven’t read my previous posts, I haven’t self-harmed for the last 7 years.)

This is when I first remember feeling like other people saw in me the worthlessness that I saw in myself. And that realization destroyed me like a hurricane. It was this time I always came back to when I wanted to complain or bitch or just let off some steam. I kept remembering how “no one cares”. And how I should just “shut the f*ck up”.

Now, my conscious mind knows that I’m not worthless and that I’m not alone, but a million words later, THAT is why I’m so positive on socials. I don’t know how else to be. I spent most of my teenage—adult life being positive because I knew that no one wanted to hear my complaints and eventually the positivity stuck. Eventually I found that being a positive light for others helped me feel better about myself and I the positive mark I was leaving on the world.

So, in conclusion—a million years later—I’m positive for YOU. Because I want you to know you are loved, you matter, you are worthy, and I CARE.

Love,

Me 🖤

Ripping Off The Bandage

Hi there!

 

So, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been on here. It’s been quite a while since I’ve shared my struggles. My triumphs. My happy times. My not so happy times.
Well, boy has a lot happened. I have been thinking what to say to get started all week. I’ve been thinking about what I want to say. What to write about. What to share. And even in this moment, I have no freaking clue what to write, but my heart is still being tugged to share my words. So, that’s what I’m doing. I’m ripping the bandage off the wound I’ve had covered up for over a year with the hopes this might reach you. The one who’s been feeling alone. The one who’s been feeling useless, unworthy, used, abused, hurt and any combination imaginable. Well, I’m here to let you know, for real, that you are NOT alone. You are NOT useless. You are NOT unworthy. You do NOT deserved to be used, abused, or hurt. Ever. So, here goes nothing.

 

I started this post by reading through all of my old posts and at first I felt embarrassed because, well, that’s how I feel about anything I’ve done. I rarely feel proud of something I’ve done because it could ALWAYS be better. We’re human. I’m human. But I don’t like to hold myself to human standards. Ever feel like you’re not enough? Yeah. Me too. Like all the time? Yeah. Me too.

 

Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we push ourselves to work three jobs? Why do we push ourselves to ALWAYS say “yes”. Why do we let ourselves work over 50 hours a week, every week? Well, my friend, we do this because it’s our only mode of survival. We work ourselves to death because we’re scared of getting let go if we say “no”. Then, once our bodies shut down, we succumb to the idea that we’re failures. Cue the panic. Our anxiety TELLS us we’re failures. And that’s where the black hole opens. It opens up to our depression. And the depression TELLS us we’ve always been failures and we’ll always be failures. Why even try? Why even get out of bed? Whey even go to work? What’s the point. Everyone would be better off without us.

 

Then we talk to our psychiatrist that we see on a monthly basis and tell them we need more meds, because the meds are the only thing that’s worked. And, well, they tell us no. Well, damn. If my psych won’t even help me, then WHAT AM I DOING HERE? WHY AM I EVEN TRYING? They tell you that you need therapy. But you don’t WANT therapy because therapy means missing work. Missing work means work piles up. Work piling up means being fired. Being fired means losing the house. Losing the house means losing my family. Losing my family means the end of my everything. Again, cue the panic.

 

This is MY LIFE. Every damn day. I pray on it. I ask others to pray on it. I pray that one day I won’t feel this way. One day I’ll believe people when they say I’m enough. One day. One day. One day.

 

Today is not that day, but damn it feels good to be back. THIS is my therapy. Writing to YOU, whoever you are, is my therapy. And for that I thank you. Same time next week? Cool. I’ll be there. Until then, take care.

 

Love,

Me ❤

I’m Not The Only One

Hey guys.

So, these last 30 days have easily been some of the roughest and toughest 30 days of my life.

I keep waiting to hit rock bottom. I wish that I would just get there already. Every time I think I hit bottom, and begin to build my life back up, it’s like the ground is pulled from beneath me and I’m left to fall again. I’ve experienced some new lows such as losing the sport I loved for almost 16 years, and some repeating lows, getting dumped…again, and tons of other lows in between. I have to be honest. I’m so freaking sick of crying. So freaking sick of it. I wish my body would stop producing tears so they would stop rolling down my face. (If only that was possible!)

So, obviously after being broken up with today, I can officially say I feel depressed again. Good thing I’m going to see my therapist tomorrow. I am feeling very at a loss. I don’t know how much more I can take. I better get to rock bottom soon because I’m ready to start my rebuilding process. Which I know is a step in the right direction, but I feel like it’s a step I’m taking on molten lava rocks with no shoes or socks on my feet for protection.

Now, as a 22 year old woman who is going to be graduating, I need to focus on myself. But my problem is, I do not know how to focus on myself. My entire being revolves around helping other and focusing on others well-being that mine inevitably falls to the wayside.

With that being said, I’m going to do just that, put you all before myself. I wanted to write this post as an aid to anyone who has been recently (or even not so recently) broken up with.

First of all, I am sorry. It is super shitty. Like one of the worst things in life, shitty. I’ve been cheated on twice, fallen out of love with once, and now, this time, I was just not enough. Everything I do seems to be me not being “enough”. And I know many people that feel that way, but I need you to know, and I need to figure out for myself, that IT IS NOT OUR FAULT. IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT and IT IS NOT MY FAULT. Sorry for my hyper-capitalization, but I wanted to get my point across. Blaming yourself for others decisions is not what needs to be happening. I’m not saying you should blame the other person because blaming the other person is not going to make anything better, but DO NOT BLAME YOURSELF. Whether you have been in my shoes as far as break ups, or maybe your shoes are even stinkier, you will get through this. I promise you that, despite how guarded your heart may be now (I sure as hell know my heart is going to hide away for what seems like forever), there will be another person. It will happen, eventually. I know that is hard to believe now. I personally do not want to think about ever being in a relationship ever again, but my head knows that is just not logical. I am a relationship person. I thrive in relationships, but that does not mean that I cannot learn to thrive outside of one. I know “I’m not the only one” who feels this way, and “I’m not the only one” who can succeed. You can too.

I get that this process will be hard, and it will freaking suck, but learning who I am, and who I want to be as an individual is worth it to me. I think it should also be worth it to you. Unless you’re a twin, you came into this world alone. Yeah, you had your mom’s help with the beginnings of life, and you’re damn right that I am as thankful as anything for that every day (love you with my arms all the way behind my back, Mom), but in the end we only have ourselves. We come in alone, we leave alone. Life is an individual process. You live with people, you date people, you love people, you celebrate with people, you disagree with people, you support people, you marry people, etc, but in all of these things, you’re still your own individual person. I know for a fact I need to learn how to be myself in an individual sense, and maybe, if you’re in a similar place as me, you need to learn that too. And even if you’re not, we can all learn something new about ourselves. We’re constantly changing, so there is constant learning to be done.

So, with that being said, I’m probably going to cry a little bit, then I’ll go to bed, and I will wake up tomorrow (or I guess today since it’s after midnight?), with a new sense of adventure. I’m going to go on an adventure to learn who I am. Do you want to join me in learning who you are?

Hope to see you soon.

Love,

Me

Esse Quam Videri

So, I am very angry writing this blog post. I have tried very hard to keep this drama out of my blogs, but I cannot do it any longer. I have played lacrosse since I was 6 years old. I am now 22. And sadly, I was forced to leave my team this past Thursday evening. When I say forced, I was not actually told to leave the team, but I left because I could not longer stand for the emotional, and verbal abuse I was receiving on a daily basis. My coaches and the freshmen on my former lacrosse team were belittling and degrading me on a daily basis. I was forced to suck up to the freshmen, kiss their feet, and go out of my way to make them comfortable (at my own expense) while they bashed me publicly to other student athletes at my university, and texted me harassing messages on a weekend basis (while they were participating in illegal activities).

I was tired of the abuse, and of course I wanted to stick it out to not appear a quitter, but it had gotten to the point my character was being questioned, and I was not going to “stick that out” any longer. I was tired of crying myself to sleep at night fearing the adversity that I would face at practice the next morning. I cried when I woke up hoping that I would get in a fender bender on the way to practice so I would not make it there in time. I was so tired all the time from all of the crying. I was tired of being treated like shit by not only my coaches, but by the girls who were supposed to be my teammates. I’m sure many of you have seen the article about which I am writing, and if you have read any of my blog posts prior to this one, you will know that I am not someone who is violent; I only want to help people. I feel as if me being so brutally honest with the world about my anxiety and depression has shown that I am a trustworthy person who is always brutally honest. So, take this as you’d like, but Bryan Renbaum’s post is complete and utter bull shit. He took a letter written by one of the freshman’s parents/ Coach  and posted it on an online newspaper. He did not interview anyone but the male head coach, who declined the comments that he attempted to put in his mouth. Not that I am, in any way, standing up for the coach because he has made me cry multiple times, and put myself in physical and emotional danger for the past year and a half.

I came on this women’s lacrosse team for NOTHING. They needed a goalie, and I turned my life upside down to help them out. Quitting my full time job, losing income, switching classes around, missing out on sorority events, everything. Grant it, I could have turned that opportunity down, but I would not have met one of my best friends if I had turned that opportunity down. I have met some amazing women through this program, and the sad part is, my closest friends are the ones being slandered.

I believe I have enough character, and enough respect for myself to not surround myself with violent people. And I have stuck to that. NONE of these girls had any ill intentions, and the freshmen just wanted to get us upperclassman in trouble, and they strive for any little bit of attention they can get.

Many people have asked me why we did not go to the Athletic Director when all of this bullying by the freshmen began. My answer is we could not. We went to the athletic director, assistant athletic director, and the Student Affairs office at UMBC, and they all turned a blind eye last year after my coach threw a stool at a teammate. We went to them and they gave my coach a slap on the wrist. He called us terrible people, weak people, and many other worse names on a daily basis, but none of that abuse was towards the freshmen class, and none of it was taken seriously by the school’s athletic administration.

I am not saying that the things said in our PRIVATE group me were not inappropriate, they were. But they also were meant for our eyes only, and were deleted off of most of our phones a few days after they were said. There was one player whose phone was stolen and the pictures were taken from there. These pictures were taken three weeks after the comments were made, thus they were a mere source of venting so we did not engage in self-destructive behaviors. I am sure that 99% of people have said shit they did not mean because they were speaking from a place of emotion. If you haven’t good for you, but you’re also probably a robot. Humans are made from emotion. Emotion is love. Emotion is hate. Emotion is happiness. Emotion is anger. And emotion is every little thing in between. Emotions are the reason this Earth functions the way it does. If we are going to shit on emotions, then we might as well shit on the whole freaking human race.

I am disgusted with the freshmen class of my team, their parents, the coaches, the athletic administration, and the university administration. All of these people have either purposefully stolen things, slandered women, abused women, or turned their eye to the abuse that was ongoing in order to save their own ass.

I am EXTREMELY thankful that I am graduating in May because after all of this bull shit that my school has tried to sweep under the rug, if I was not a senior, I would most likely transfer. I cannot stand for a school that perpetuates and condones the abuse of young women on a daily basis.

So, basically, as angry as I am, I need to let it go and live my sorority’s motto. Esse quam videri; to be rather than to seem to be. I need to be me because there is only one of me, and despite the mistakes I have made, I’m pretty damn great.

And to all my TRUE teammates out there, you know who you are, be you. Because you’re pretty damn great too.

Love,

Me