feeling broken

This is how I'm feeling in the current moment. I know this is not forever. I am stronger than this. Breathe.

This past Tuesday, I lost my grandfather. He has been very ill for months now, and I had been trying to prepare myself for the worst, but wasn't sure exactly how to do it. I have never lost anyone in my life before. My other grandfather (who I was named after) died before I was born, and I was too young to truly remember my great grandmother passing away. This is all new territory for me. I didn't know how to go about this. I still don't. And I look at my mother, who has just lost her father, and she seems so strong compared to the shriveled, sobbing mess I feel that I am becoming. I'm crying for so many reasons. I wasn't even particularly close to my grandfather, yet I still feel so completely lost. The funeral for my grandfather was this morning in Maryland, and I stayed home alone while my family drove all the way there for the service, because I was so afraid of my emotions and what they would do to me if I attended the funeral. I thought I was doing the right thing by staying away, because I didn't want to be influenced by all of the sadness at the service and be in an even worse place than I am now. However, as I spend the day alone in my home listening to Kesha's new album, I can't help but cry. Did I make the wrong decision? Did I avoid my grandfather's funeral and miss out on this opportunity to grow stronger as a family because of my own insecurities? I feel so weak and vulnerable in this moment, and I am truly feeling broken. Luckily, I know this isn't forever. More is coming, and I hope these things will bring goodness into my life.

I'm incredibly anxious about returning to school tomorrow to start my senior year. I feel like I'm in no place to start classes. I'm not ready. I've already emailed staff at school to let them know I'm dropping classes and backing out of commitments in fear of my emotions getting the best of me. I'm trying to set myself up for success, yet all I see in my future is fear, darkness, and emptiness. I'm moving into my very own apartment where I will be living by myself. At first we thought this was a great decision, because I will finally have the space I need for myself to breathe, relax, and grow into a stronger, more grounded soul. However, as I sit here crying, I feel like I've made all of the wrong decisions. What if I feel completely alone? What if I actually need a roommate? What if I become more isolated than I am already? 

In this moment I can tell that all of my thoughts are being clouded in negativity and anxiety, yet I'm letting them out anyway. There are many times where I criticize myself for writing negative things on my blog, but then I remember that there is negativity in my life. I can't stand behind my writing, which is raw, vulnerable and real, if it's not the truth. I can't write that I am happy when I don't feel that way. So, if you're reading this, don't worry about me. If you know me at all, you know I am resilient and brave, and I take on new challenges with an open mind and open heart. I'm not shying away from sadness or fear. They are real emotions that are here to be experienced, even if they are uncomfortable. Feeling broken isn't permanent. Feeling sad isn't permanent. I will grow stronger from this. Although it seems hard to believe, I see each difficult situation as a learning opportunity, to grow stronger and learn more about myself. And I'm saying that, after suffering from depression for nine years, at times wanting to disappear and never return. This is not forever, Tzipora. Keep reminding yourself of that. You are stronger than this. Please, just keep breathing.

celebrating my 21st birthday without alcohol

On Sunday, I turned 21 years old. Do I feel any different? Not really. Maybe a little bit, but besides receiving a lot of unwanted attention from people I haven't talked to in years, nothing really has changed.

"What are you talking about?" you may ask. "You can legally drink now!" 

Yeah...no...I don't...I can't...So...yup.

Over a year and a half ago I stopped drinking alcohol in college. I hated the taste of cheap college beer (I'm not really a beer fan in general), I didn't like feeling out of control, and I despised being around drunk people. I realized I was forcing myself to go to parties and consume alcohol as a way of fitting in and trying to be social, and how incredibly uncomfortable that was making me feel. It was increasing my already spiked social anxiety, and I just wasn't feelin' it anymore. So I stopped. Yes, I would have a glass of wine with my parents occasionally, or try a fancy margarita my sister made, but I really was not into drinking anymore.

This past year, I stopped going to parties at school. I realized I wasn't having fun anymore. My anxiety was so high from trying to deal with drunk people (yes, that includes some of my best friends) that I wasn't having fun. I use to stay longer than I wanted to because I felt obligated to socialize on the weekends, until my therapist said to me, "If you aren't having fun, why don't you just leave?"

"I don't know...I feel like I should be there with my friends." I replied.

"Were you enjoying yourself? Were you having fun with your friends?" he inquired.

"No...not really."

"Then leave. You don't owe them anything."

And he was right! People go to parties to have fun in the first place. If I wasn't enjoying myself, I should have just left! I was causing more anxiety than necessary by forcing myself to stay at these parties and try to socialize with intoxicated people who were on a completely different level than I was. It sucked, so I started leaving the moment I got uncomfortable. This escalated to the point where I just stopped going. I wasn't enjoying it, I was having panic attacks, and it was horrible. 

In case you somehow missed it, I've been pretty depressed this entire summer. It's had its ups and downs, but overall, depression and anxiety have controlled my actions for the past two months. Alcohol is a depressant (WHAT??? Shocking, I know), so why would I engage in something that I know would make me more depressed than I already was? I definitely was not into that. So what did I do for my 21st birthday you may be wondering? I went out to breakfast with my parents, ate a lot of pancakes and whipped cream, treated myself to the new Tartiest Pro Glow Palette (highlighter galore) at Sephora, got a free Starbucks drink, and spent the evening sitting on my porch with two of my best friends catching up on life and listening to music. I lit an incense, drank some non-alcoholic champagne, ate sushi and chocolate cake, and had a wonderful time. I felt happy. Yes, you read that correctly. I felt happy! It was pretty damn exciting. 

As you can see, I had a fun birthday without putting any alcohol into my body. Was it the way most twenty-one-year-olds celebrate their birthday? Probably not. Was it a fun and enjoyable and positive experience? Absolutely.

feeling blue

I was shown this video a few months ago and I've seen it pop up on my timeline a few times since then. I think it's so so important and Barbie worded "feeling blue" perfectly. She's cute, quirky, and honest. You don't need to be upbeat and positive all of the time. Peace.

body image

Let's talk about being fat, kids! I'm just kidding. Well, sorta. I wanted to write a post about a very touchy subject that has played a very large role in my life over the past few years. My body. I hate it. Actually, no, that's not entirely true, but I'll admit there are parts of my body I am incredibly insecure about. Some people think it's weak to admit this. I, on the other hand, think it's courageous. I think it's important to talk about our insecurities. How else are we going to change the stigma about body image as a social construct? 

I dislike my stomach. It's not flat, which according to society equals acceptable. I have rolls. I just rolled up my shirt to double check as I'm writing this, and I do indeed have belly rolls. Sometimes a bit of my tummy hangs out over my jeans (which is why I have switched to only wearing high-waisted jeans so that problem is eliminated). Does it sometimes cut off my circulation and hurt my stomach? Absolutely! But it keeps my belly looking flat so who cares about pain? 

I hate my arms. I have huge brachialis muscles (below the bicep) which make my arms like twice their size when flexed. I should be proud of my muscles, yet I despise them for weighing my body down at times. Did you know that muscle weighs more than fat? I didn't. 

I have a strange love/hate (but mostly hate) relationship with my thighs. Yes, they have saved my phone from falling in the toilet a number of times, but there's no gap. And we all know everyone must have a thigh gap or you're considered fat right? Wrong (if you haven't noticed by now, wrong is my thing I seem to add in every post without intending to). My thighs are muscular, but I have cellulite. Screw you, cellulite! I don't like you! No one does!

When I open up Instagram on my phone, as I do about forty times a day, I feel like all I see it Victoria Secret model, after model on the beach in a thong bikini showing off her ass, after #bodygoals, after more Victoria Secret models (why do I know all of their names???) I've realized recently how incredibly unhealthy this is for me, and the rest of our generation. We want to feel connected to celebrities, so we follow them religiously on social media. But do you realize how poisonous this can be? If all I see are flat stomachs, big butts and tiny waists, it's viewed as the social norm. And then I look at myself, someone without a flat stomach or a tiny waist and I feel like shit about myself. It's taken me so long to learn to love my body. And clearly, my journey is far from over since I just talked about all the parts of my body I hate. 

I'm not here to tell you to unfollow all the celebrities on social media. I'm not here to tell you to join a bikini body challenge and lose 20 lbs (if you're into that kind of stuff, I commend you!) I'm not telling you to pretend to love yourself. I'm recommending (not forcing, because that would be rude) that you look in the mirror after reading this post and find five things you love about yourself. If five seems too difficult, start with three and work your way up. Here's mine:

I love my organization skills and handwriting.

I love my abs.

I love my long natural eyelashes.
I love my tiny hands.
I love the necklace of freckles around my neck

Now it's your turn.

shoulds and shouldn'ts

I'm just gonna come right out and say this, and whoever wants to freak out about it can freak out about it. I just need to get this off my chest. 

I think I don't like the outdoors. 

I'm so sorry to everyone in my life I have lied to, but the truth is, I didn't even realize it myself until recently. I've spent so much of my life outside, and I am constantly surrounded by nature, but I just don't like it. I don't like bugs, I despise bug bites, and I'm pretty sure I have this constant feeling of bugs crawling on my legs even when there's nothing there.

So why do I feel so guilty about it? Because I felt like I should like it, due to my background and upbringing. All the yogis I look at love the outdoors, so I should too, right? Wrong.

A psychiatrist at my day program said to me a few weeks ago, "You should remove the word 'should' from your vocabulary. That word is poison!" At first I was like, dude please chill out. It's just a word. But then I started to think more about the word, the meaning of the word, and the essence behind it. And eventually, what this guy was saying actually started to make sense.

When you say you "should" do something, it adds unnecessary pressure onto whatever said thing is. For example: I should lose weight vs. I want to lose weight. Those are two very different sentences! Adding the word "should" to a statement makes it a command, as if your brain is forcing you to do something and you'll be punished if you don't. That seems a little drastic don't you think?

Next time you say the word "should", take a step back and see if you can re-word your statement to make it less demanding and more natural. I've listed a few possibilities below.

I should do this assignment vs. It would benefit me a lot to do this assignment.

I should clean my room vs. I may feel better if my room is clean.

I should like the outdoors because I have a house in the woods vs. I can like and dislike whatever I want!

I hope you enjoyed my little vocabulary lesson. 

goat yoga

Today I had the privilege of getting to practice goat yoga. 

It was one of the most distractingly cute experiences ever and I'm so grateful for the Hancock Shaker Village for hosting a second and third class for all us yogis who also happen to be obsessed with goats. 

I filmed my adventure to showcase not only the goats running around and chomping on grass, but to also show some progress with my yoga skills and proud moments. For example, I touched my toes today. It was a big fucking deal. There's a lot of fun surprises in there so I hope you enjoy. 

I love goats. Especially baby goats (included in video). Today was awesome.

expectations vs. reality

I've had some a lot of experiences with expectations and reality, whether it's from a makeup tutorial that looked horrible on me, or trusting myself to get off book for a scene and end up failing miserably in class. The biggest struggle currently, is my summer expectations and the reality that has now set in.

When I left college in the spring, I was preparing for a trip to Amsterdam and Ireland with my boyfriend for a week and a half, and then returning home to start my job teaching at the preschool "camp" at my Temple. My expectations were to have a wonderful time exploring Europe and seeing a culture completely different to my own, and then returning to a job that brings me so much joy every day, no matter how exhausted I was at the end of the day. I love little kids so much (not so much that I'm ready for my own just yet, but soon......ish.) Anyways, my trip to Europe was incredible, as expected. I ate some Dutch pancakes, saw real live prostitutes standing in windows waiting for their next prey (it was real weird), and did a whole lot of walking (our first day we walked almost ten miles!) When I came home however, things began changing rapidly, and my summer plans started to come into question.

I began feeling hopelessly depressed almost immediately upon returning from my trip. Having struggled with depression for years, I know when things are "normal depression" vs. something different. I could tell this was different. My energy was zapped from my body, I could barely get out of bed, I didn't have an appetite, I was exhausted all of the time, and I just felt so sad. I was constantly in tears, too afraid to leave the house, and I felt like my life was falling apart. I was terrified; I was to start work in two weeks, working almost a full day every day with four-year-olds. How could I possibly do my job if I was having panic attacks and depressive episodes several times throughout the day, unable to function? I felt so lost, so hopeless, and so alone. Even though I did have people in my life to support me, my brain kept telling me I didn't. It would contradict every positive message I tried to tell myself, so I just stopped trying to help myself, and dwelled in sadness for days. I adjusted my medication (with approval from a psychiatrist), and there was little/no reaction. Did it make things worse? It's hard to even remember at this point. I just remember thinking, "one entire week of full-on depression...this sucks." and then "two weeks...this is bad." and then "three weeks...are you kidding me?" and now, "a month. a month of sadness and emptiness and wishing it would all end." I've been to doctor, after psychiatrist, after therapist, changed my medication three(?) times now, and things are still...bland.

I will say, I am improving, slowly. I've had some good days. It's hard to grasp how well I'm doing because I just feel so shitty all of the time, but I'm working on it. It's so difficult to think of my kids playing in the sun at camp while I lay in bed crying because I don't have the energy to get in the shower. It's upsetting to have to leave the restaurant after ordering drinks because I had a panic attack and was crying in the middle of the outdoor plaza. I'm sad to turn down Red Sox tickets because I'm too scared to sit in a big crowd of people. 

But you know what? That's okay. It's okay to not be okay 100% of the time.

I'm taking my time, working on myself, and trying to push myself ever so slightly towards my next goal. My last goal was to be able to hold a crow pose in yoga, and I did it that day! I'm only getting stronger. Yes, I have ups and downs and horrible attacks and incredibly puffy eyes every day, but I am learning so much about myself and who I am as a person. I'm not thinking about next semester, or next month, or even next week. I'm not even thinking about tomorrow. I am working on today. Day by day, I can only grow stronger and persevere more. Clearly, my expectations of this summer are not the current reality. Could they be in a few weeks? Possibly, but I'm not thinking about that right now. I'm focusing on the now, because I'm being mindful and staying in the present moment, and maybe splurging on some new sneakers because they are super cute. We'll see. 

learning about love

What does love mean to you?

I asked the President of my university this question in a private interview I was having with him for an upcoming theatre assignment (I could write pages about that interview, but we talked about some real serious stuff. It was intense. Tears were shed. He's an incredible president).

So here's what I think about love:

[Disclaimer: Author is twenty years old. She knows nothing] 

What I Thought

I watched my parents grow up very much in love. As mentioned in my anger post, it scares me when people argue, and if they argued, I immediately thought they were going to get a divorce. I couldn't understand why people who said they loved each other would yell at each other and leave the room angry. Continuing to hold onto this thought of "argument = divorce/breakup/end" as I started being in relationships, I kinda assumed this was the rule for all relationships. Happiness. Adventures. Changing things about yourself so that it makes the other person happy so they won't be in conflict with you. That's what it's supposed to be, right?

Wrong. Again.

Dear Tzipi, get your ass off of social media gawking over couples that are "instagram famous" just for being in love and having perfect lives. Please, Tzipi, I beg of you. Stop comparing yourself to people who only post the good stuff on social media and create this fantasy you're supposed to believe. You are not those social media starlets, because why the fuck would I want to be one in the first place? 

What I've Learned (...Still Learning)

"Real love"- like the kind of stuff you don't necessarily see in the movies and rarely see because people aren't around to take photos and videos of it - is amazing. Being content in the company of one specific person (or many persons, whatever floats your boat) without any of the glitz and glam is really special. I'm slowly learning to let go of those "movie moment" expectations and just accept reality, which, in fact, is amazing all on it's own.  I'd like to thank my boyfriend (who I'm going to try my very hardest to not talk about all that much) for teaching me what real love feels like. 

I've had a twin bed for the majority of my life, and I remember complaining when I was young about how I wanted a bigger bed because I was becoming a big girl. No luck. Okay, so imagine sleeping in a twin bed for the majority of your life, and then sticking another person in said bed who is even bigger than you are. It was a real adjustment. But we suffered through it anyway so we could be close to each other (I'm a snuggler). 

I learned how to start saving money. I used to look for fancy restaurants to eat at because they got good reviews, however, the random sandwich shop on this side street that he'll suggest is also pretty good too, and probably cost at least $15 less than the fancy shmancy place. We grew up in different lifestyles, and when we're together I usually feel like an idiot because he's much more logical with everything than I am. 

I'm learning how to be a freakin' adult. 

It's weird, but I'm in love and I'm happy.

Don't change yourself for someone else.

Find someone who accepts you for you.

Be open-minded and caring.

 Don't be a dingus.

yoga: the beginning

I may have mentioned that I'm an "aspiring yogi". I'm not really sure if that's entirely accurate, but what I can say is that I have fallen in love with a new form of exercise that aids in relaxation, builds strength, and connects my body, mind and spirit. For the past few weeks, beginning on June 2nd 2017, I joined a yoga studio called Stil Studio. It's about a ten minute drive from my house, in the middle of a popular outdoor mall, hidden in the back of one of the stairwells that leads up to the parking garage. It seemed a tiny bit sketchy...but as soon as I walked into the studio I was hit with the scent of burning incense, and was greeted by a group of smiling staff members. I signed up for their new welcome program: 30 days for $30. You can attend as many classes as you want to for 30 days. I thought to myself, why not? I thought I would maybe go three of four times to see how the classes were taught and if I was even comfortable practicing yoga. Three weeks later, I have gone almost twelve times (don't quote me on that) and have found a new hobby. 

When I first began practicing yoga (like really practicing), I found myself getting lost in my own mind. It was difficult for me at first to silence all of the negative self-critical thoughts that were flying through my head while stretching in cobra pose. The first few classes, there were several moments where I had to simply curl up in child's pose and cry. Luckily, from many years of practice, I'm really good at silent crying so I wasn't causing a scene, but I knew that I wasn't at peace. Should I get up and leave? That requires making noise to roll up your mat, and letting light into the dark studio to open the door a.k.a. drawing more attention to myself. Nooo thank you. So I just stayed there for a long time. At one moment (I should mention that this studio is hands-on, and instructors often come around to guide you through the poses and help stretch you further) the instructor placed his hand on the small of my back. He didn't say anything, and it didn't linger there long, but from that one touch as tears were pouring down my face, I knew I was understood. I'm not sure if I believe in spiritual energy just yet, but his touch sparked something in my body to want to try and continue my practice until the end of the class. 

I've made a goal for myself to attend this yoga studio as much as physically possible. As of right now, I am going at least once every single day. The owners know me by name, and yesterday when I walked into the studio I heard an instructor say, "Tzipi!". It was amazing! When I told my mom this, she responded, "You're part of their family now." After just a few weeks??? That's crazy! I've spent so long trying to find a healthy community for myself where I am supported and challenged and accepted for who I am. I am not a professional yoga instructor who does headstands on the daily (yet) but I have been able to find a sense of relaxation during each day. I've been doing mindfulness meditation (that's for a whole other post), vinyasa flow classes, as well as fluid and core related practices. Am I slowly turning into a "yogi"? I did just buy some incense from the studio so maybe that's a hint.

I also thought this post was important to write today since it is International Yoga Day! This is my first time celebrating. Good thing I've already attended a yoga class this morning. Phew.

anger: the emotion

I've always had a difficult time with anger. I never get angry. Ever. I can get frustrated, but I just keep everything inside. Always. I'm terrified. I've been working on this in therapy for like, four years...and not much improvement has been made. Why does it freak me out so much?

When people raise their voice at someone, it scares the shit out of me. Any volume that's louder than the typical conversational tone I view as yelling or shouting. When someone raises their voice at me, I immediately start crying and telling myself to shut up. I interpret it as if I've made a mistake, and I am being yelled at as punishment. I'm not sure if there's some traumatic moment in my life that's triggered this fear, but whatever it is, it's weird and I hate it. 

This fear of anger (whether it's witnessing or experiencing) has stopped me from doing a lot of things. I've developed a fear of confrontation because I don't always know the outcome, and not knowing is worse than the experience itself. I'm unable to express honest opinions with people in fear of "retaliation" a.k.a. being upset. If someone is upset after I tell them something, it's my fault right? 

Wrong.

My therapist once told me, "If someone is upset at your actions, that is their response to the situation. Their emotions are not in your control nor are you responsible for them." He also once scribbled, "YOU CAN'T PLEASE EVERYBODY" on a sticky note for me that I still have tucked away in a journal somewhere. Anyways, the point is, it's time for me to confront my fear of standing up for myself, or telling someone how I'm actually feeling. I am my own being. The only person I am responsible for is myself. Now if only I could actually comprehend all of this knowledge into my noggin so I can stop being so hypocritical.

musical theatre final exam?

I hope my professor isn't too upset about me posting this on my blog? I hope my friends aren't angry that they may be on camera? It's a thing that I did, that I enjoyed doing. My friend was a huge help to me. I love musical theatre so much. It'll always have a place in my heart. I'm sorry there are so many question marks in this post.

why blog?

So you're probably wondering why I wanted to start this blog in the first place. It's actually quite simple. I'm feeling depressed. Like, really depressed. I've had depression since I was twelve years old, so it's not like I've been waiting until I was an adult to talk about my feelings, but I had this urge to do it publicly. I've been through therapist, after therapist, after psychiatrist, after group therapy, to a new therapist and a new psychiatrist. And I'm still depressed! Doesn't that suck? 

I wanted to make this blog because I am finally coming to terms with my brain health (my doctor likes calling it that because she says it makes it feel more like a "real" illness because the brain is an organ and you could easily be suffering from kidney failure). I'm finally ready to talk about it. All of it. Don't worry, this blog isn't going to be a sad tumblr sort of thing where all I post are gifs from sad movies and try to trigger you all into feeling my pain. That's the opposite of what I want! 

I want this blog to help erase the stigma about mental illness. I want it to be a safe place to people to talk about what's really going on (not just what you choose to post on social media). I want to improve my mood. I hope it will improve your mood too! 

And no, this blog isn't going to just be about me overcoming and learning to live with my mental illnesses (I've been working on that for eight years, dudes). I want to talk about my other interests! Because I have them! I love singing! I love singing so much. I've wanted to be on Broadway since I was seven years old, and it's never not brought joy into day to sing at the top of my lungs in my car by myself. I'm currently learning yoga. I'm finding it incredibly fascinating, but also physically strenuous! I'm enjoying the challenge, and I think my body appreciates it too. As you can see, there's a lot more to me than meets the eye. I hope you enjoy the ride.