Stuck in the Middle

Hi.

Lately I’ve been feeling seriously stuck. Stuck in how I’m feeling about the world. Stuck in how people say we should be acting, reacting, thinking, advocating, fighting, rioting, etc.

I’m stuck in the middle. Stuck between feeling passionate and feeling muted. I have really strong feelings about shit that’s going on these days, but with everything going on, I don’t feel like I have the right to share it. But because I’m not sharing it, it comes off like I don’t care. But I do care. I care a lot about all the shit that’s likely to start a Civil War Pt. 2. But I want to keep those feelings to myself because I don’t feel like arguing. I don’t feel like being beaten down by people with opposite opinions. Everyone has an opinion, and I care about everyone’s opinion, but I don’t want to be suffocated with it—which is all that happens when you share your opinion on social media.

You’re like a metaphorical punching bag getting the shit beat out of you, while also throwing yourself in front of punches aimed at your friends and family who are also trying to respectfully share their opinions as well. Frankly, I’m over it. And I have been for a while. I don’t remember the last time I shared anything political on my pages, and I don’t plan on sharing anything political for a long time to come.

It’s not worth the bullying. It’s not worth the pain. It’s not worth the tears. It’s not worth the anxiety attacks. And it’s not worth the BULL SHIT people put you through when you try to express your opinion.

Because in reality, everyone has an opinion, but no one wants to hear it—they just want to brainwash you with their opinion that they deem factual.

So, here I am. Stuck in the middle. With lots of passions and nowhere to express them.

So, if you feel stuck in the middle, I hear you. I see you. I feel you. Your opinion matters. You matter.

Love,

Me ♥️

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 🖤

Rookie Year, EVERY Year

Ever feel like your stuck in your rookie year? I can’t be the only one, right? The only one that constantly feels like this whole adulthood thing is just a bunch of rookie years piled one on top of the other. Like, being the freshman on the team. The ones who do the clean up of the field after practice. The ones who fill the water bottles. The ones who do the grunt work. Well, unless you’re me. Then you do that freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior year. Because I HATED being a freshman and I didn’t want to make anyone else like I did when I was their age. I also have this thing where I don’t like to tell people “no”. So, there’s that.

 

Regardless, it’s EXHAUSTING being the rookie all the time. And as a perfectionist with a NEED to constantly do things, well, perfect, being a rookie SUCKS. I hate feeling like I can’t do anything right. I FINALLY feel like I have things under control, and then a mistake pops up. And then another one. And another one. And another one. Just a snowball fight of mistakes being thrown RIGHT in my face. The more people tell me “it’s alright”, the more upset I get because I know it’s not alright and I always am afraid of what mistake will be the one that ends my employment? And all the while, my anxiety is through the freaking roof. Which, honestly, causes me to make more mistakes, or be more forgetful. Then I feel depressed. My depression tells me that everyone else thinks as little of me as I think of myself. It’s been true and it will always be true.

 

And the self-doubt is never ending. I keep telling myself that I should have the hang of this by now. I should have my life straight by now.

 

But I don’t.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE learning, growing, and becoming the person God made me to be. I’m just having trouble becoming who I was made to be because I never feel like I have a grip on the present. I spend ALL my time preparing for the future by reflecting on the past. I need time to STOP. I need everything to stop for one freaking minute. Just one. So, I can take a deep breath and listen to what I’m being told and where I’m being guided to. But that’s not possible. I just feel like I’m stuck in this never ending cycle of self obliteration. One where I don’t have time to build myself back up after I’ve been broken down. So, I put together what I can and keep trying to run on empty. When is this going to end? Maybe the better question is WILL it ever end? Or will I be stuck in my rookie year forever? God, I hope not.

 

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