Anxiety.

How can someone with anxiety be loved? I ask myself that question every. single. day. At a moment in history when we’re being told that anxiety is more common than we think, it seems that I am surrounded by people who aren’t personally affected by it. And that makes me feel hard to love, even hard to like. 

I think I was always anxious. I think it started affecting the way I looked at myself and relationships when I was cheated on the first time. One thing; people don’t understand the impact of cheating if they haven’t experienced it. It's not just trust issues. Another thing; In my experience, people don’t understand the impact that not only one, but three consecutive cheating relationships has on a person’s mental state, self image, ability to trust, and easiness in making and keeping relationships unless it's happened to them. And this is when sympathy matters the most, people. But it's not their fault, people don't know how to begin to understand something they don't personally experience.

But Derrian, why not just send this in a mass text to all the people in your life? BECAUSE! I hope this helps other people too! People with anxiety! People who know someone with anxiety and don't know what it's like! I wish I had someone sharing their anxious thoughts online. Oh wait, I do. Her name is Caroline Calloway. She's my idol, and the person who inspired me to start sharing the good and bad things in my life, because whether you're having a good or bad day, the feeling of togetherness is always a mood-picker-upper...I will be patenting that phrase. ANYWAYS, here we go.

I don't know how it started but all I know is that my anxiety is here now. And sometimes this word will come up in a conversation with my friends or my family or a guy I'm talking to. The word will be greeted with a passive “I understand” only to be ignored after that. Or maybe a short conversation, but one that only brushes the surface. Anxiety isn't something we talk about. But why? Let's talk about it!

Because anxiety is not just a word. It's not a casual word like "tissue." "I have anxiety" shouldn't be treated as casually as "I love Beyonce." It doesn't fix itself with a simple swish of the wand of someone you love saying they "get it." Because if they did, they wouldn't tell you they "get it." But it's what people say when they think they get it, or they want to get it, or they just want the person to stop fucking talking about it. But I can't stop talking about anxiety anymore because it's eating away at me.

Anxiety, much like depression, is different for everyone. I cannot say that for everyone anxiety is being confident and completely unconfident simultaneously. But for me it is. Sometimes anxiety shows on the person's physical being and other times it's all psychological. Sometimes anxiety pairs with other things like depression, in my case that is also true. For me anxiety is something that has both fueled and held back my potential to become someone successful. And frankly, I just find that odd.

Anxiety for me specifically is saying hi to people I know from high school. Or getting so nervous talking to people that I can’t look at them in the eyes and therefore stare at the air conditioning vent in the ceiling or the windows behind them. Anxiety is worrying about SATS in October of freshman year in high school and feeling physically ill from worrying. It's not being able to look at photos of me from junior year in high school because I felt so nervous about my future that I stopped eating.
It's panic attacks while on vacation.

Anxiety for me is sometimes stretching the truth a tiny bit but not understanding why. Anxiety for me is thinking that getting to the airport 6 hours ahead isn’t enough time. It's sitting in front of a suitcase and a mess of rolled up clothes but not being able to pack them. Just sitting there panicking.

Anxiety for me is thinking that one small change of wording or punctuation in a text message means a permanent change of the relationship I have with the person sending it. It's misreading and misunderstanding. It's legitimately worrying when I don't need to. It's thinking I'm not doing enough for the people I love and then overcompensating for it. It's staying up all night stressing to make sure the text I sent doesn't piss the other person off, even if the text wasn't negative.

Anxiety is being so plagued by the thought of death that I needed to start taking sleeping pills just to get at least 3 hours of sleep because the thoughts wouldn't shut off; it’s getting up at night to rush to the bathroom because I think I’m going to puke just thinking about the fact that one day my parents will not be alive. Anxiety is worrying when I don't hear from loved ones for a few hours after they said they'd text me, or when they aren't answering their phone. Anxiety growing up was not being able to sleep and pacing back and forth in my kitchen until my mom got home safe from visiting my grandpa in the hospital. Anxiety is shaking right now as I realize how far my anxiety dates back.

Anxiety is not being able to speak while my mom comforted me after I had a panic attack on the couch one night from, you guessed it, folks! Thoughts about death. Anxiety for me is stressing the act of planning and organizing to the point where I end up accomplishing nothing. Anxiety is procrastinating.

Anxiety is second guessing standing up for myself; it’s saying “this is what I meant” to soften something I say when I think I sound too harsh, even when the harsh things I said are really how I feel. Anxiety is not understanding that being truthful with people doesn’t always mean they’re going to leave. Anxiety is being afraid of losing people for just speaking my mind. Anxiety is sometimes taking back something I said I needed in fear that I'll burden or lose another person. It's sacrificing self care as to not overload someone I love with my emotions.

Anxiety is plaguing a guy I’m dating with questions, sometimes multiple of the same in one day about if we’re okay and if I’m fucking insane. Telling him he can leave if it gets to be too much, but hoping he'll stay. Anxiety makes relationships fucking hard. Anxiety and trust issues. Trust issues are thinking everyone is same and then almost convincing yourself that they are. It’s being a hopeless romantic while also being a stubborn nonbeliever. Anxiety and trust issues make you feel crazy even though you know you're right.

Anxiety and trust issues aren't a good mix. Sometimes trust issues are anxiety.

Anxiety is having to explain what I need from people who don’t understand it enough to realize how big of a deal what I’m asking of them is and just give it to me. I get angry when they think they have a better way to handle it. But sometimes, I'm too afraid to speak my fucking mind and tell them no.

Anxiety is feeling like a burden. Unlovable. Tired. In physical and mental pain. Naive. A joke. Psychotic. Confused. Scared.

I have days where I just worry, about everything or nothing at all. I replay scenarios in my mind that I know would never happen, but I worry nonetheless. I pull myself away from people I love the most, but I can't help it!

Anxiety is being afraid of one day bringing a child into the world because I don’t know how I'll handle that life change.

It is the most terrifying experience I've been faced with to date. I'm moving to another country in 2 months and even that isn't as daunting as waking up every morning worrying.

I've never been faced with a more difficult task than trying to explain my anxiety to the people I care about. I can't explain it though! I can't explain it without wanting to cry or feeling like I'm explaining it terribly wrong and immediately wanting to take it all back or feeling like I'm being judged because I know there are people that don't believe anxiety exists.

This feeling of drowning in my words, not being able to pull myself out long enough to catch my breath, gather my thoughts and explain my feelings has more than once brought thoughts of suicide to my mind. And that's a terrifying fucking feeling because I don't want to leave this earth! I want to live and thrive and grow this blog that has connected me with so many people since I started it!

And in continuing in being open and honest about my struggles and my feelings, I wanted to talk about my anxiety. I've tried talking about it more, specifically when it's bothering me the most.

Some may feel this is oversharing, but in my experience, speaking openly helps me and helps others, and I think I get my point across much better when I'm writing sometimes. So this is it! It sucks! And I want it all to be gone! And it will be one day! I just need to keep working on it! I just need to keep talking about it! The best thing to do is talk about it, but it's so incredibly hard when the people you need to understand...can't. But I'm going to try my best! And I hope you do too! Yay for struggles and bumps in the road! Let's overcome it all.

Love you all! Thank you for reading! I can't wait to be openly candid more and more. It helps me, and it helps you (I hope!)


xxx
Derrian

A Vow to Women, From a Fellow Journalist

From the beginning of time, women's well-being and accomplishments have been pushed to the back burner in favor of men's. From Olympic headlines, to the most extreme cases, aka rape accusations, men have been the favored party. So, in light of these misfortunes towards us ladies, I vow, as a journalist, to more than half of the world's population that I will advocate for women, always.

If we're talking about rape, I recently read an article that brought up a good point; when you take the perpetrator out of a headline, its as if the misdemeanor committed itself, or was prompted by something the victim did. When any media outlet takes people like Brock Turner out of the headline, the blame falls on the undeserving victim, in this case, the brave young woman he took advantage of. Male bias happens on the opposite side of the spectrum as well. Take this year's Rio Olympics for example; Michael Phelps ties with his rivals for silver, and Katie Ledecky sets the world record in women's 800 freestyle, yet the text about Phelps' achievement overshadows Ledecky's secondary headline. There's something very wrong with the way women are presented in both articles, but I vow to make our gender proud because we deserve it.

 I've unofficially changed my major 3 times before settling on one: theatre, history, language. All seemed thrilling but left little room for impacting change, until I found Journalism. Thanks to my favorite teacher (what's good, Mr. J?), I stuck with a profession that mirrored my young heart: ambitious, risky, and tenacious. When I started my blog in November of 2015, impacting others was just a dream. I wrote because it was what I knew I was best at. History and Language called for skillful memorization and although I had that, it never surpassed my ability to find just the right word to make a sentence flow. I found my voice after writing about feeling lost and stagnant during teenage years. The feedback I got fueled my creative juices, and I finally knew that using my writing as a tool or weapon to help others similar to me was exactly what I needed to do to achieve my dream. So here we are, its 2016, the presidential campaigns are in full swing complete with Clinton and Trump throwing jabs every which way (don't you love biased headline season!), the summer Olympics are coming to end, and I have found a cause that needs to be brought to attention: bringing an end to the slandering of powerful women like Hillary Clinton, and the lack of acknowledgment of trailblazing teens overcoming boundaries and struggles like the women of the 2016 Rio Olympics.

 As a fellow woman, I vow to report on woman's achievements. I want women like Katie Ledecky and Simone Manuel to shine just as bright as Michael Phelps and Jonathan Schooling in the media. As a fellow woman, I will not allow faces of rapists, like Brock Turner's, to be plastered under headlines praising their academic achievements and accomplishments, while forgetting to mention their flawed morals and values.

 As a fellow feminist, I vow to never overshadow man's achievements as they have done to us, but I will praise and recognize women when they show true ranking in their fields. Their names will not be a secondary headline, but a bold header mirroring their resilient courage, strength, and drive in six very short words that describe their never-ending fight to succeed.

 Journalism is ever-changing, its accepting, it shows no boundaries. So why must we act like displaying love for our ladies won't get us as many shares, likes, or page visits on social media? Women are just as strong as men; we don't falter when we cannot seem to win, we work just as long and just as hard as our male counterparts, and so we deserve to be treated as so. I have yet to meet a weak woman; what we lack in one strength, we make up for in another. We are not sure who the next president will be, or what doctor will cure cancer, so why count females out of those fights? Nobody is predestined for greatness, so why tell women they can't be president, or make them feel like dedicating their life to their career/research is wrong?

 I want to see Simone Biles and Aly Raisman on the front page of my local newspaper for a change. I want to see Brock Turner get what he deserves, which, if you couldn't tell, ISN'T a news headline about his successful swim career and slap on the wrist for raping an unconscious girl. I want newspapers to honor Simone Manuel's achievement the same way they honor Phelps' 23 Olympic medals.

 So, as I venture into the many obstacles I will face as a female journalist, I will not only write about what women are about, I will also show what women are about. I will be fearless, I will not allow myself to be talked down to, I will write in favor of our badassness, and I will fight the injustice and bias that we have been subjected to. I will not disappoint you. I vow to make you all proud.

Yours truly,

A Fellow Female 

Here's to the Lost Ones

I know the feeling; the feeling of stagnancy and ineptitude. That self-loathing that you just can't seem to shake. The mini panic attacks residing in a compilation of words - "Am I good enough?" "Will I make something of myself?"- or Instagram posts thrust upon us by our seemingly more "put-together" former classmates. There's nothing worse than the thought that you're, in the words of my mother, "floundering." But for all of those who have yet to embrace their confusion and lack of direction, worry not, because this, my love, will be the best time of your life. 

It took me a while to write this first sentence. I wasn't sure what to say, and I wasn't sure if what I was going to say was going to be good enough. I chose Journalism as my desired major on every college application I held my breath and sent off, but I often question whether or not I'm even good at that, the one thing I'm best at. I'm not saying that I feel alone in feeling that way, in fact I know I'm not alone. So this for the ones who have chosen to follow the path that is put in front of them, the ones with no plans, or the ones whose life didn't exactly work out in the way they had initially planned it. We're the Lost Ones.

Doe-eyed, and bushy tailed we planned our lives while coloring outside the lines in our coloring books. I'm sure some of you, like me, planned to be the future Meredith Grey, or a princess, or even a cashier at a supermarket. We made our parents buy us the all the items necessary to fulfill these dreams: in my case it was the Fisher Price Medical Kit complete with a stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, and thermometer. On the weekdays, we presented our future dreams and goals at Career Day in preschool, completely ignorant to the reality of what we so excitedly shared with our classmates, and on the weekends, we gave our family members a daily checkup, a fashion show equipped with princess-worthy ball gowns, or a mobile grocery store brought straight to the living room.

We grew up a little bit and changed our minds. Talking with our friends in our rooms after school, we dreamt of being an actress, POTUS, or a future Taylor Swift. We began studying really hard, or picked up singing and acting lessons. Still somewhat doe-eyed, but more aware of the journey to our dreams, we ventured into our futures with our heads held high.

We entered high school, and were grilled with questions about our future: "What do you want to study?" "Where are you applying?" "Where do you see yourself in 5 years...10 years?" Our reality suddenly became surreal, and the pressure and anxiety began to settle in. We threw ourselves into our studies...or didn't...and we hoped all the time spent learning shit we'd never use in real life (ahem....the imaginary number "i", or the year of the Watergate scandal - don't get me wrong, I love history...but is that really necessary to know?) paid off, and we'd be left with a hefty scholarship offer from our dream school. We applied to schools all over the country because the least cool thing we could possibly think of was living home with mom and dad while everyone else got to live out their college experience at least 30 miles away from home. Finally it was over. The lockers cleaned out, graduation right around the corner. Everyone excited about their future lives at name-brand schools...and then there's you.

You are the one unsure of your life after graduation. Either you're going to school, but have no idea what it is you want to study, or maybe you're not going to school, or could it be that, like me, you ended up in a place completely opposite of where you thought you'd be...your life not exactly panning out to be what young you pictured. You're depressed, confused, and angry because everyone else seemingly has their lives figured out. I was there. I know the amount of times you cursed your parents, your school guidance consolers, and yourself for not trying harder, or not having the money to support your doe-eyed dream. I know the stress of not feeling good enough, because if you WERE good enough, you'd be at your dream university right now, wouldn't you? I spent so many nights wracking my brain about what I had done wrong, where I had made a wrong turn, what I could have tried harder in, but then I realized that life has a funny way of working things out, and the best way to find yourself and your place is to follow the path that life leads you on. Although you may run into a few bumps in the road, it is impossible for you to remain there forever. I know you, you're me, and we can make it through the trials and tribulations thrown our way.

We are the lost ones, and if you told me seven months ago that I'd be attending a community college and working two jobs, I'd laugh and tell you that you were crazy. But, here I am. I am happier than ever. I promise that being lost isn't the worst thing that can happen to you. Yes, the structure is comforting, but also borderline monotonous. These are the best years of our lives, and that is no bullshit. We're young, wild, and free, so shouldn't our journey be just that? I am not telling you to get lost, nor am I telling you that if you do have structure then your life is boring. I am simply saying that being lost is exhilarating and fulfilling. There is such a misconception about teenagers who are lost, and that stigma must be broken. You took a detour on the way to what is destined for you. So be adventurous, courageous, and resilient. Do not take this journey for granted. You were given this opportunity because destiny believes that you're too rebellious, and too creative to be stuck with the same everyday routine, so don't think of this as a burden. This is your road to many ineffable things. Be adventurous. Be courageous. Be resilient. Embrace the lost. It looks good on you. 

"They say that you are what you do, not what you say you'll do. So that must mean that I am all the times I chose to laugh instead of cry and smile instead of pout when I thought of you. I am all the moments in which I chose to venture out instead of stay in bed and replay all the memories we shared. It means I am made up of all the instances where I thanked you for loving me and teaching me so much instead of cursing your name, your being, and everything you stood for. So I am strong. I am resilient. I am everything I did to make myself who I am, right now, after us. And I know now not even you can stand between what I love today, and what I loved before. I am different. I am strong. I am resilient."

-Me. 

What nobody tells you about graduating...

Nobody tells you that after graduation, there will be moments...many moments...when you will feel at sea. You’ll feel lost, without any sense of direction, wondering all along if the path you chose was the right one. A teacher described it perfectly to me when I took the first chance I got to go back to my high school. I walked the halls that once seemed so scary, but eventually started feeling like home. The shortcuts I had taken when I knew I would be late for class led me to my senior year Forensics classroom, and to my garden-tending, pesto-making, costume-sewing Forensics teacher. After defeatedly and over dramatically throwing myself into the desk where I spent many 55-minute class periods sneaking text messages behind textbooks and sprawling out what seemed like full 3 course meals, I began to vent to the woman who taught me how to secure a crime scene and dust for fingerprints. She was used to my constant rants, and even though she’ll never admit it, I think she missed them. “Derrian, you feel lost because you’ve lost all sense of structure.” That was it...besides the literal bricks and cement of my high school walls, the hellhole I so desperately wished to get out of held a sort of invisible structure. The structure that came from the first period bell, the alertness in class necessary to obtain the information to ace the test, the daunting task of additional work that came after the long line of traffic filled with students eager to leave the building we all agreed was hell on earth. All those years of having to ask to go to the bathroom, and raise your hand to answer a question you are confident you know the answer to all goes to waste, suddenly, it’s as if you're now an adult, and you're expected to make real life decisions, all on your own. Needless to say, it was a bone shaking realization. Nobody tells you that after graduation, you will doubt yourself, your path, your beliefs, and your morals. But, they also don’t tell you that this is the most incredible time of your life. This is the time for self discovery. It’s the time to get lost in the city you’re trying to get to know, it’s getting up late and learning a lesson from it, it’s about realizing the types of people you wish to surround yourself with. This time is about making your own structure, finding what works for you, not what someone says will work for you. So, make mistakes, my loves. Take the wrong subway, wake up late, eat a little more than you should, let go of people who aren’t changing your life for the better, learn what works for you. Become confident, and independent, and strong. At times, you will feel lost, but as cliche as all this sounds, one must be lost to be found. Make your own structure, if you don't like something, change it, because you have that ability now. What nobody tells you about graduating is that it is okay to make mistakes if you embrace those mistakes. You will live and learn, and that’s all a part of finding your true self. 

xoxo,
Derrian