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.