Anxiety and Education

There is an absurd amount of fear running through me right not, all regarding having to get an education. Aside from the chaos that is the post-secondary system, I am really afraid of my anxiety hindering me. I know that I'm already psyching myself out by thinking so, but I'm worried that I won't be able to cope with finding my way around a campus, having to talk to others or stepping way out of my comfort zone. I'm still struggling to force myself to go do recycling on my own, although I've done so a few times already.

I think that's why I've started to look more at distance courses and I'm just using a temporary move as an excuse. I don't know how I'll be able to continue on with any kind of productive life if I continue to give into my fear. Even if I did manage to complete a program completely on line, how will I be able to get myself a job?

The worst part about this is that I have no idea how to combat it. Saying "Just do it" doesn't help, nor do cliches like "Just think of it as a small step", in fact I've heard them too much and now I just completely ignore them. They hold no meaning or comfort to me, they're just like singing "Oh Canada"; you've done it so much on auto-pilot it's unlikely that you know the words off the top of your head or even stop to consider the meaning behind the song's words.

If getting out of a habit is like rewiring the brain, like I've heard so many times, then how do I do that? If I've been running the same script over and over again in response to a certain situation, it's not as simple as writing a new script and clicking enter. I've been struggling with religion lately and it's the same problem. How can I even try to learn about something else if I've been engrained with a certain belief since I was born? It has been wired into me and it then becomes incredibly difficult into believing something that, even if I do agree with the philosophy, goes against it.

Months ago, I wrote that I was afraid of being nothing. Of having no purpose or being a worthless waste of space. I still have that fear, although I've discovered that its core is guilt. I'm not worried of being someone who sits at home writing, researching and making little money. I'm worried about not being able to support myself and having to add to someone else's burden. It's the same thing with my religious worries, I fear having my family members tell themselves (if I agree with something outside of what I've been taught) that they're the reason for my different beliefs.

I am not nothing, I will never be nothing unless my brain no longer functions. There is always value of an individual so long as they continue to create, whether it be abstract or material. Yet, I worry that I will disappoint my family if I do not become the traditional idea of 'something' and that's why I fear not getting over my anxiety.

I'm Not Worthless

There are times when I wonder if I'll ever have a life worth living. All too often what should be a new and fun activity turns into a fear fest with me slamming on the brakes. Every time I fail at an attempt to face my fears, I feel as if I have just lost my shot at a future. As if this one activity or challenge determines all my future attempts at facing my fears. The only time I have ever succeeded at over-coming any fear is when my feelings of guilt outweigh it. Even as a little girl, when my mom was pulled over because I wasn't wearing a seatbelt, I couldn't take the guilt and hid in my grandmother's bathtub. I'm out of high school and I'm still hiding. Not once have I done something for myself. Never. Always for my parents or friends or grandparents or teachers...etc.

My mom finally cracked at me today and said probably the worst thing that could ever reach my ears, "You can't help someone who doesn't want it". Granted it was after I told her to stop telling me to "think of it as a small step" because it was too cliche and didn't hold any meaning, and after 2 hours of discussing my fear with her, I'm sure that she was tired of it.

I want to be able to face my fears. I want to walk outside my house without worrying about every little social interaction. I want to be able to get a job and do things I want to. I want help, but it can be hard to accept it.

I am not worthless, I am fearful. There is a difference. Every word that is written on a page or typed into a computer is not a word from someone who is worthless. I have worth. I'm still trying to figure out how to show others that worth, and it's not easy to. I feel as if every second spent with my family is a second that tries to destroy me. Every minute in the presence of any family member, extended or immediate, is a minute in which everything I do is criticized. In which, I am mentally beaten to the point where all I can do is curl up into the fetal position in a corner.

Right now, I am thinking of where I can sleep away from them. I have a cousin in my room, my brother sleeping on the couch, my parents upstairs. There is no where private. I need not to speak to them. I need them to ignore me as if I don't exist. I don't want them talking to me, I don't want them acknowledging me or worst of all giving me advice. I need to be somewhere without anyone. I've debated sleeping outside or in the car or in a closet because I don't want them to be here.

I don't hate them. I feel extreme loyalty and devotion to them, but I can't live with them anymore. I can't have them lecturing me any more. I don't need them to tell me to get a job, face my fears, just do it or try to read my mind. I would like them to leave me alone. I just need to be alone.

I'm tired and confused right now. I need to go to sleep, but I don't want to because then I'll have to deal with them in the morning. I wish I could go somewhere else, but I don't know where. I want help, but once something is said too many times it isn't help. Just like at a grad ceremony, after ten inspirational speeches, suddenly all those comforting words become uninspirational and draining.

Alternative Living

I swear, some days I think I'm crazy. I have a hard time trying to wrap my head around whether or not a thought is influenced by just some wacky emotions or if it's something worth considering. My fear whenever I write these thoughts or ideas down is the reaction my father will have. I'm not entirely convinced in his ability to analyze me because I disagree or grow frustrated whenever he tries. He makes me out to be someone who's every action is done in order to gain attention. Granted, I do try to gain attention sometimes, but I consider that to be normal for everyone. Maybe by analyzing me, he's trying to gain attention for himself or trying to seem smarter than those around him, however because I cannot read his mind I wouldn't know... yes Dad that was a hint! ;)

Anyway, my parents just came back from a trip and I'm sad to say that my anxiety has just shot up a few levels. I was almost excited, and a little bit sad because I'd just lost some of my freedom, when I went to pick them up, but five minutes in the car and I was ready to drive them right back to the airport. One of the things that bothers me is that they did nothing wrong, I'm just irritable and am nit-picking everything. My mother, especially, tends to tick me off. I'm still a little upset about the last few fights we've gotten into  and because it was never resolved, my frustrations have been building.

This is where my dad will really put on his analysis hat and begin to judge. Still love you Dad! :) Anyway, for some reason, I have the desire to runaway. Just to become homeless and forget about money. Well, at least use very minimal money. I know it sounds crazy, I know it's really hard to think of me being about to do it, but I just want to disappear. I've had this thought for awhile now, but it's gotten to the point where I'm being to plan out how I'm going to do it. I'd need to get a job in order to have some money to buy the things I need to get started, like a few gift cards and money for a bus, I've already made a mental list of the things I'd need to bring with me and have researched homeless shelters across Canada and how to backpack, etc.

My greatest fear, other than going into this blind and coming out feeling like a complete idiot after proving that I am unable to cope with a life like that, would be how my family feels after I leave. I don't want them to be constantly worried about me, or start blaming themselves or anything like that. I don't want them to guilty or upset because of me. As much as I want to just completely disappear and not have anyone know where I am, I realize that doing that would hurt my family and I would need to make an attempt to call them or email them every now and then.

For those who are questioning my sanity and ability to think of the future or consequences, I just want to make clear that I think that experimenting or thinking about alternative options is ok. I want to be able to try things out and I don't expect myself to spend more than a few months in that kind of lifestyle. In fact, I'd like to just try it out for a month, just to see how I'd be able to function. I'm curious to see how my shyness and anxiety would play out in that kind of situation, even though I'm terrified that I'll fail miserably.

Anyway, thanks for reading. I know it sounds a bit crazy and the majority of you are thinking that I couldn't ever be able to this, but I just need to get it out there.

Story: Chronicles of a Gryphon Keeper

Hey! I'm in a pretty good right now after two hours of some serious pampering and meditation, so I thought I'd share one of my newer stories with you. My writing has seriously changed since last year and I'm loving, so hopefully you will too! :)


3rd Day of the Rainy Season
6th Year of Reign of Amaranth,
The 17th Gryphon Keeper


To Whom It May Concern,

To think of the passage of time as if it's solely linear and as unstoppable as a stampeding elephant would cause me to laugh. For it is as far from such as I am from ever obtaining a stable level of sanity. Sanity happens to be a great enemy of mine for it only produces what has already been invented. Insanity is the realm of the greats, a place where thoughts are created and inventions made. For no one but one who is insane could ever dream of accomplishing what those who are sane deem as impossible.

These letters that I am writing to you, my unknown friend, might very well be the very spawn of my insanity. For some reason, the desire to write letters that detail my life and thoughts spring upon me while, in all places, I was trying to remove the gryphon that clawed at my hair with a vigor that only someone who has never lost the hope of having a great and glorious life.

So, read my letters if you suddenly have the odd desire to do so (I certainly hope that you don't discover said desire whist having a tiny devil rip out your hair) and learn how not to become a great gryphon keeper, for learning from others mistakes is most definitely better than learning from your own. Onwards now to my undoubtably wonderful thoughts! If such things do exist...

There must have been a time when I was normal, when the noise didn't affect me or cause me to run for the safety of a darkened alleyway. The must have been a time where I had a name and a family who cared for me; a time where I wasn't always alone and didn't have to fight for my own survival. There must have been something else or I wouldn't recognize the absurdity of my own situation.

I often wonder of my family and why I am no longer with them. It really can't be helped since people are always curious of what they do not know. As a girl I faintly recall being submerged in the idea that I was once a princess who was adorned in jewels and beloved by everyone. I would have had both a pet elephant that would carry me around not allowing my feet to touch the ground for even a split second and a striped tiger that would lay at my feet when I went to sleep, guarding me from the evils of the night. I knew, as that little street girl dressed in rags, that I must have lived that life. How could I have been born into this poverty and desperation?

So, I lived as a runaway princess for many years, a princess who was forced to scrounge in garbage bins for food and cut the clothes off a dead man so I could be warmed, until I grew to realize that I couldn't be the lovely princess I thought I ought to be. To come to such a realization is painful and heartbreaking. It made me give up on myself and caused me to become worthless in my own eyes. Yet I couldn't have lived my entire life in the bubble I had created for myself and the whole process was simply something I had to go through.

At what age I went through this process, I do not know for I am unsure of my own birth year. However I do believe to be after the Naesean wars and before the first attempted murder of Kalajhan's fifty-second king, making me no younger than six according to the diviners.
Shortly after the first attempted murder of the king, I began to be extremely bothered by noise, and therefore people by default. Instead of spending my days playing with my fellow street children, I choose to hide in dark, secluded alleyways until darkness took over and the noise began to fade. My odd habits did undermine my pickpocketing and stealing, since there were few people to steal from and those that were out late were people that you quickly learned you should not steal from lest you wish to have your head forcefully removed from your body.
Nonetheless, I was able to get by at the expense of many decent people who awoke to find both food and silver missing. On several occasions I barely escaped being found as I crawled out of windows with my dirty pockets filled with day-old bread and clanging bracelets. Fortunately, my love of silence allowed me to blend into the dark shadows.

Maybe it is that same silence that let me remain faceless and nameless, even to myself, for all those years. I do not regret those years I spent out on the streets living in a prison I crafted myself. I do not regret a single moment in my short life, for regretting even the smallest of moments would allow the darkness that drove the king's fourth son to his murderous ways to enter my own heart. One commits to darkness and evil only to prove their perceived worthiness. However, that worthiness is only an illusion and darkness only vanquishes the true worth of the individual.

To end this letter, I offer only an obvious piece of advice. Allow your worth not to come from what you possess, whether it be material things or intelligence, but from the acts you preform while using all that you possess. Is someone good because of the pureness of their thoughts or the kindness of their actions?


May the sand fall slowly in your glass
Amaranth, the 17th Gryphon Keeper

I know what I'm doing...mostly

I honestly don't know what to write. I'm tired of writing about what's bothering me, because I always feel like have to defend myself. Every time my name gets called, for anything, I'm immediately on edge and prepared to fight back. My name has become my most hated word and I cringe even when writing it on tests.

I'm so stressed and I feel so lost. I can't talk to my parents anymore and they were my go-to people when I got stressed or didn't know what to do. I resent them a little bit right now, because I don't feel like I can talk to them. Everything that comes out of my mouth has to be defended or I'll get called out on it, even if it's obviously an emotional state or when I'm really confused. It's stressful to have to defend both sides all the time. I have to state how I'm feeling, how I know it's wrong, how I want to change it, how I don't know what to change it, but I still know you're opinion on it, etc. I just want to be on my side right now. I'm tired of having to play both sides of the field; it's draining.

My friends feel distant, my extended family will probably think the same way as my immediate family and I can't talk to my therapist for 2 weeks. I don't really find that I have any opportunity to talk to any of my teachers this semester because I'm not really close to any of them, and frankly, student services causes me so much stress than help. I really, really need someone to talk to and I don't who.

I'm not going to defend or back up anything in this post. I don't care if you think I'm irrational, it's how I feel right now. I'm having a really hard time attending classes again. It's being to show physical signs now. If I feel like I'm doing something I don't like or if I feel extreme guilt, I get the urge to vomit. My neck muscles haven't un-tensed for over a week, I get constant headaches and I'm over-eating. Every day I have to go to school I feel that way. Everyday I feel guilt over something like procrastinating, lying to my parents about my attendance or skipping class, I feel that way. On the weekends when I lie in bed, I'll have panic attacks about having to go to school or finishing homework that I've procrastinated on. I haven't slept for a full night without waking up, for over 3 weeks.

I can't apply for a job. I'll go to the stores and park outside, only to wander around the store or walk past it because I can't work up the nerve to hand in a resume. I almost need someone to go with me and sit in the car while I apply; they don't have to come in, I just need someone there so I vent when I get out of the store. I'm tired of my dad saying "Just go in and do", because I can't. This may be an unfair comparison, but it's like telling a smoker to quit cold-turkey. It relieves my stress in one way because I don't have to go through that one unpleasant situation, but it causes more stress because I'm constantly feeling extreme guilt over it.

The more I skip class or can't hand in a resume, the worse it gets. I can be fine, then I miss one day of class and suddenly I can't do it. Last week, I missed Thursday because bad roads and then I couldn't get myself to go on Tuesday because I was afraid that I'd missed too much math and would now be deemed stupid.

I know what I'm doing hurts me, that's why I'm so stressed. So much guilt and anxiety have built up, and now there's a constant battle between the two. Generally, guilt wins because I really hate disappointing people, but every now and then the anxiety crushes me. I want help. I want to know what to do, but I can't ask anyone. If I tried, I'd probably get the "just do it" advice which doesn't help at all. My parents are frustrated, it's easy to see. They're as tired of it as I am and it shows in how they choose to handle the situation now. I can understand that, but every time they point it out, every time there's an argument over it, it only makes me feel worse.

It only makes everything harder. It makes it harder to sleep, to relax or to do work because I'm trying to de-stress and can't. I've tried watching tv, reading a book, taking a bath, listening to music, writing, etc, but nothing's helped. I've tried meditation to relax both my muscles and my mind, but I can't focus. I sit in class and remind myself of how much of a loser I am: "Why the heck couldn't you have gone to school yesterday? Honestly, how stupid are you? Get your frickin' life together!", "You're too quiet, why can't you be normal? Everyone else in this class has friends, but you're too shy to go and talk to someone. Even if you did, you'd probably be so awkward that they'd spend the next week making fun of you", "Why can't you do any of your homework? It would only take like half-an-hour, but you're too busy wasting time on those stupid 'did you know' sites. Can you imagine what your marks would be like if you did your work? Maybe then you wouldn't always feel guilty about disappointing your teachers" and "At least you used to write novels; you had a project and could say you were productive. But now, all you have is short paragraphs of random stories or thoughts. Who would want to read those?".

I'm really aware of what's going on in my head. I know what's right and what's not. Don't tell me to 'just do it', I've tried. Don't explain to me the consequences, I know what they are. If I didn't would I being feeling as crappy as I am? Every moment in a day that I procrastinate my stress levels go up. Every day that I sit at home watching shows on my computer, I feel like I've wasted it. I don't have much to look forward for. Weekends are now just days where my parents are around more often, which means more chances to get lectured. Holidays are the same. What do I have that I care about? I don't know. I care about my thoughts, that's it.

I'm back to the point of hating myself for being worthless. I hate myself because I know that I'll never amount to something. If I can't hand in resumes or go to high school, how can I get a job or go to university. If I don't have any money, how will I even be able to live? I've mentioned this before and my parents can disagree all they want but I still fear it. I fear the day that my parents are done with me, where they say that I'm too much work and I need to move out. I don't know what I'd do or where I'd go. I can just imagine myself having to live on the street and out of soup kitchens, because I'm doubtful that I'd ever get better once that's happened. Even now, I'm doubtful that I'll ever get better. I don't think I have enough courage or bravery to get better. I don't have the drive, and that's going destroy me.

The Family Reject

I really hate that I'm writing this. Partially because I find the topic to be something from an over-emotional mind and partially because I feel stupid that I feel this way. Let's start off with this: although I often complain and rant about my parents and siblings, I love them like crazy. My parents are so supportive of me and they do their best to help me get the best life I could have. My siblings I love because of their many other traits that are often looked-over when I'm upset, and a little bit out of obligation on those days where I want to ring their necks. I know I'm loved in this family, however somedays I can't help but feel like the family reject. 

I think the biggest factor for these "emotional confessions" of mine is the compilation of many little irritants that are ignited by one or more small events that one would think to be inconsequential, but they wind up triggering either a rant or, in rarer cases, tears. The general event for today's rant/tears is "movie night". My dad and my visiting uncle, as well as my brother, decided to go see Safe House in the theatres. I usually love action movies, and my dad tends to (I blame this on him being unable to learn from past mistakes rather than something he does on purpose) over-look me, asking my brother instead. This time he did ask, but it just wasn't my kind of action movie so I passed. No big deal really, besides my mom and my aunt were planning on renting a movie, I could just watch with them. 

I should have known how it would turn out. It usually turns out this way every time my mom rents a movie. She and I have very different interests when it comes to movies. She likes drama and romance, the "chick-flicks" if you will, and the only time I watch romance is when it's piggy-backing on an action/comedy. Five minutes before we went to rent the movie, we had a conversation about my dislike of romance and drama. Ten minutes after, they rented a...chick flick. Yup, she has ears that don't hear. Of course, after I got up to go downstairs she makes a big deal about how I should have told her that I didn't want to watch that particular movie. Gee, thanks for making me feel like you care. 

And when I get downstairs, I start tearing up. I hate crying, it doesn't make me feel any better when I cry, in fact I feel worse because I wind up with a headache and a leaky faucet for a nose. I don't know why I want to cry, I just know the things that bother me. 

I feel like the outcast; the person who's always on the outside looking in. It seems that no one in my immediate family likes the things I do. It's hard for me to find some middle-ground or something in common with anyone. At least that's how I feel like at the moment, ask me again in a few days. I feel like what I enjoy isn't of any importance to anyone else, that they just don't care. 

My mom won't even watch 30 seconds of one of my favourite tv shows because it isn't her "kind of show". How the heck would you know? You haven't given it a chance. You have no bloody idea what it's about. I have a hard time finding someone to go to the theatre with me because they don't like the movies I do, in fact I've stopped asking them because it's the same thing. I'll go and watch the movies I don't have an interest in at all because I enjoy the company every now and again, and I believe that you need to allow people to watch what they want. 

That's one of the things that bugs me the most, especially when it comes to my siblings, and I'm sure they often have the same grievance with me. The fact that I feel like I constantly give, but that I never get any retribution. I often take my sister to Tims or Subway and pay with my own money, but it's extremely rare (like only once in the history of EVER) that she does the same for me. In fact, we've gotten into a few arguments about this. I'll often listen to them tell me about their day, but often when I try to tell them about my life they don't even bother to pretend to care. They never allow me to watch the movies I like with the rest of the family, I'll usually just watch them alone in my room on the laptop. They don't care that I've written two novels, my dad's the only one to have read even one. I spend over 1 year working on each one and I don't even get a good job smoothie or the opportunity to do something I want to do with the family. Granted, I didn't do something special when my dad finished his PhD, but if he wants, I'm game to do something he'd like to do. 

Somedays, today included, I feel as if I'm the one puzzle piece too many. I just don't mesh in with everyone else. Maybe it's my own fault. I enjoy being alone, so often they don't realize what I'd like because I tend to keep it more hidden. Not on purpose, it just goes along with that when you do things alone, people don't know what you do. Maybe I have, without knowing it, shaped myself into a puzzle piece from an entirely different puzzle. 

Thoughts: February Edition

It's been awhile since I've written down the thoughts from my green notebook, so there might be a lot. I actually really enjoy reading these after the fact because I think that there's some valid ideas...as well as a bunch of emotional rants. ;)

Irrational, illusionary fear. A fear that when thought about with a logical mind proves the individual an idiot. A fear that in the moment reduces me to a state of desperate escape. 


To release your mind to the world and say all that you want to say is the most freeing experience I ever was a part of. To let go of all concerns involving the fear of judgement in a maker that doesn't directly harm another person is to understand and learn about yourself. To constantly hide yourself from view and pretend to be someone else is to deceive yourself and lose your connection to your true thoughts and problems. By allowing yourself ftp opening show your flaws you prove yourself to be an individual and a human being. The flaws that we spend our lives hiding are badges of our own humanity. How dare we even try to cover them up. As long as our flaws do not harm others, then they should be exposed in, at the very least, a selective environment. Our flaws are also our strengths; my paranoias and the extreme way I experience them is a testament to my creative and imaginative abilities. If we hide our flaws, do we not also hide our strengths?


The goal of all things is to be perfect. Chemical solutions search for a state of equilibrium, the earth desperately tries to strike a balance between all elements, and humans cover up their flaws and are constantly searching of the fountain of youth. Perfection isn't a bad thing to aim for, but it must be kept perspective. Perfection is not possible for a human to obtain. We are too flawed. To be the best we can possibly be is what we should aim for, but we also must be aware of our limits and accept them rather than deny them.


I most certainly do not believe that people are inherently good, nor do I believe that they are inherently bad either nor are we entirely a blank slate. Genetics play a role in shaping an individual as does experience, but the general rule is that it is far easier to get what you want with bad intentions. Therefore, people will always have a tendency to take the bad path because it is the easiest. 


Can someone just "be"? Or must there be a purpose to life? Do we need to be productive to be deemed worthy? Does everything we do have purpose in some form? By thinking and reflecting, we still are productive because we create ideas, by exercising we fortify our bodies and by reading we strengthen our minds. Is there anything that can be considered just "being"?


I believe that everyone fears criticism; it's natural, no one likes to have their ideas belittled. However, criticism is what lies bad ideas and beliefs to rest, with some exceptions, and without it people become engulfed in a world created by their own minds. 


To what extent are my views governed by fantasied notions of honour and tradition. I have the desire to pass on something of myself to be remembered by, yet I wonder if it's a pointless endeavour. Does it matter whether I am forgotten years after I'm gone? Would I feel sad, angry or nothing at all? What good could I do after I've disappeared and what would leaving behind a trinket or piece of writing do?


I worry that I over-analyze and refuse to see the emotional side of things at times. It's almost laughable considering the mess of emotions I'm always jumping in and out of, although that could be the reason why I choose to analyze without them present. I find myself to be very conflicted between emotions and "rationalized" views. How can I find the balance?


I don't like conflict. I find it to be mostly pointless and more like the idea of brinkmanship than anything else. It doesn't resolve anything and only leads to stress as well as a high, unnecessary tension between people. The only solid way to resolve issues without too much backlash is by using forms of compromise.