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Marching on, I have downloaded Spotify on my phone and made a special list of classical music to sleep to. Mostly Piano, but also some violin, flute and other instruments. So far, it has definitely helped me sleep.

While I have still woken up, it hasn’t been nearly as much as normal. (2-3 times compared to 6-10. Not joking.) Still not the greatest sleep in the world, but for me, a chronic insomniac, this is great.
Happiness level has still so far only been minimally effected. I believe that sleeping well will help, but it will not do everything, of course. I wake up better, but I still end up irritable, easily annoyed, frustrated and depressed.

Intelligence is still largely neutral, but I am still doing good with Words with Friends, silly as that seems. My mind also seems to want to read a lot, so that is promising. But without any difficult problems coming my way, it’s hard to assess right now.

Creativity is up, but slightly. Still having issues dealing with writing while people are around, so it’s hard to say if creativity is really up since I haven’t had much time to test it out.

 

Overall, sleeping to classical music sounds good. Perhaps I will look up some research as well…

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So I have now tried a new experiment. For general happiness, creativity, and intelligence. People say that when you have babies listen to classical music, they get smarter. They are born smarter. So I wanted to see house it affects sleeping adults such as myself. Not only for intelligence, but also for better sleep, since I have a hard time sleeping and I have to listen to something in order to sleep.

So instead of trying to listen to white noise, I wanted to try listening to classical music. I did it last night, for about two hours, but pandora’s radio station is not the best idea. Besides the volume changes between each song, there were changes in the mood of the music. I’m going to work on finding which songs are better, but this could work. I’m going to try again tonight with more selective music.

Wish me luck!

This topic is currently very sensitive to me. With my dear friend’s recent suicide, I believe this contributed to her depression. Therefore I feel the need to reiterate. The path to happiness, the quest out of depression, is personal.

No two people will find their peace in life in the same manner.

For some, it will be religion, for others, it will be family, or friends, or finding their passion and embracing it with open arms. It will be similar for many people, but two families are not alike, two friends are not twins. As people are so vastly different, so must their journeys be.

This means that you cannot force your path to happiness on anyone else. You cannot tell them that the only way to happiness is “blank”. It is simply not true, and sometimes it can even make things worse for others.

I will say that those of religion are often the biggest offenders in this matter. I believe that it is because religion gives many people such a sense of peace that they do not see how it cannot give others even a small piece of it. The path to happiness through God or through religion is often so dramatic, so instant compared to the others, that it is easy to see why one would believe that it is indeed the best path.

And while I will not go into the folly of an absolute religion, those who tout theirs must realize that many people find their happiness in other religions, in other methods. There are people who found their happiness through Christianity. Some through Judaism, Buddhism, even Atheism. Some found their happiness through their family, some through their best friend or lover. Some have even found it in solitude, in passions such as acting, running, or painting.

The paths to happiness are as varied as the people seeking them. Always remember to keep that in mind when helping others on their quest. You cannot force them onto your quest.

I found out today that a very dear friend of mine committed suicide. I have spoken with her many times about her struggle with depression. I have shared with her my own struggle, and we had talked about many, many things. I loved her with all my heart, and I am very sad about her passing.

I had not been updating my own blog with updates, advice or, really, anything, lately.

I am now committed to change that.

I am now committed to updating this blog, to working on my quests.

Not for myself, as I don’t always need to write and keep a regular update in order to stave off sadness, but for others. For the same reason that the It Gets Better Project exists. For the same reason that any of us sit and talk to our friends when they need us.

I will admit, I feel as if I didn’t do enough for her. I lived states away, and despite knowing of her suicidal thoughts, I did not talk to her as often as I could have. I did not remind her of what she means to me every chance I got.

I will now regret that every day of my life.

Suicide is one of those things. Many people see it as a last resort. Many people use it, and while it may end their pain, it hurts others. While I do not believe in sin, it is selfish.

While we can help those who are contemplating it, while we can support them, love them, pray for them, and do whatever is in our power for them, they are the ones who make the choice in the end. They are the only ones who can decide if the pain is too great for them to bear.

I have lost too many friends to suicide. I can only hope they found peace.

And I can do my best to help others who are contemplating suicide, who are depressed. I will do my best to help others who need it. I will be posting more information on the how as I determine that.

Much Love. -Samie

No, just busy. There is a few updates to follow through here.

First off I have, it seems, somewhat gotten back together with my ex-boyfriend. Long story there, but we’re sort of trying it casual. Or we were supposed to. It hasn’t really worked out that way. Due to his family life, he doesn’t want to spend time with them, instead, he spends time with me. Not his other friends, and this is because he only has a few at the moment. I need to get him to hang out with his other friends, because I have little time when for writing when he is here.

There are a lot of reasons for this, but the basics are: I do think it’s rude of me to be writing when I have someone over, and I do not trust him not to get upset by what I write. Especially when it comes to this blog, and obviously, that does not lead to a happy person. Being worried about what you’re writing is making people upset. Having to try and hide the computer screen. It’s definitely not something I like doing.

I definitely need to talk to him about this. I am so stressed when I am wanting to write and he is around, and I feel guilty, and concerned and agitated. When he is around in general, to be honest.

So, secondly, there was another boy who I was sort of dating, and he too has become more stressful than fun. Texting and at time almost nagging to hang out, or chat.

And a third person who is more often stressful than fun for many of the same reasons.

My issue is figuring out whether it’s because I’m introverted (and therefore I am more relaxed when by myself) that they’re stressing me out with their presence, or if it’s because they’re simply too dependent. Or if it’s a mix of both. I’m simply unsure.

My interactions with people, I will freely admit, have always been a bit messed up. It got significantly worse when I went through inpatient treatment.

Why would an inpatient treatment center give me such issues? Well, sadly, it is because I was mocked.  For many different things, most of which stem from expressing myself.

I’m sure that the counselors were well intentioned and did not mean to mock me, but the patronizing tone they took when I said I was bisexual [and having it “explained” to me that I was not bisexual, but ‘try-sexual’] was liking not meant to be harmful, but his honest belief.

The mocking, chuckling disbelief when I explained that I believe in reincarnation [in a center filled largely with Christians, or at the very least, of the Abrahamic religions]. The constant questioning of my spiritual beliefs and the constant push towards a more ‘acceptable’ religious viewpoint. The constant opinion that I won’t be happy until I join the religion that my parents belong to. [Despite that it has caused me endless grief and sadness.]

The constant shaming of anyone who was different.

I understand that it is because of the program. That because many of the people who went through it were drug addicts, or otherwise genuinely troubled in such a way that the ‘tough love’ method worked.

I was not one of these people. I came into the program where my biggest issue was low self-esteem and depression.

I do believe that this affected how I interacted with people. For example, I was always shy, but until then, I had never had a panic attack due to social situations. Now people scare me. While before it was largely more crowds than anything else [being trampled, to be exact]. Now I become fearful in many social situations.

I’ll explain more later, perhaps. Once I’ve had time to think of it.

For those who don’t know, circumstances have dictated that I live with my parents. At 22, it’s a bit odd, but with my mood disorders, it is hard to hold a high-paying job as usually these high-paying jobs are stressful. Due to some not too happy life incidents I have debt and such which makes it hard to move out. Not impossible, but with a strong desire to finish college and get a Ph.D. without getting a student loan, it isn’t easy.

So I live with my parents. Not the worst situation, however I have begun to find it more stressful to live with them than not. Let me explain.

One of my biggest problems with friends and with relationships has been with fear of people not accepting me. It hit me very hard today that this is because of my family. While they are not overly condescending, abusive or hateful, there is a distinct lack of acceptance. I do think part of it is because they don’t understand, but there is, again, more to it than that.

This came up because I was having a conversation with my dad. While I do bring up topics that him and I don’t agree on*, I don’t always feel looked down on when I express my opinion with these sorts of things. Well, mostly.

However, during this conversation, he mentioned that I should either “filter my facebook or de-friend him”. I didn’t know what he was talking about, so I asked him why. He said that there were things on there that he thought were offensive/inappropriate and that he didn’t want to see.

I just kind of ‘hmm’ed because I didn’t know what he could be talking about. Well, I later checked my facebook. The only things I post on facebook that could be deemed ‘offensive’ or ‘inappropriate’ are gay-rights and women’s-rights articles.

Now I know it’s not the women’s rights articles (or most of them) that he has an issue with.

It’s the gay-rights stuff.

I am a bisexual woman. I am just as likely (if not more likely due to personal preference), to marry a woman.

My dad has issues with me having the same rights with a woman as with a man.

No, I don’t think he sees it that way. He doesn’t believe that I am bisexual. He never has. It does not help that the psychologist that was assigned to my case while in in-patient treatment while I was 16-17 directly told me that I am not bisexual, but rather try-sexual. As in, “you’ll try anything once”!

Yes, my psychologist told me that when I came out to my family.

My psychologist blatantly and insensitively disregarded my feelings and sexuality when I ‘came out’.

And my parents, I believe, have continued with that belief. I have since had issues telling people about my sexuality as well as getting into relationships with women (because I am afraid of my family finding out and ostracizing me for it or otherwise making me feel worthless for it). I like women, emotionally, more than men, but I am afraid to enter into a relationship with a woman. I have dating bi women, and despite that we are still friends, it was never serious. Any woman who I might enter into a serious relationship with I have not pursued for fear.

I have slowly been opening up to people about my sexuality, but it has been tough.

I had a friend who introduced me (without my consent) to a girl as bisexual, where upon she told me not to have a crush on her because she wasn’t into girls.

My ex-boyfriend had trust issues because he was afraid that I’d leave him for a woman.

I’ve had lesbians say they would never date a bisexual woman.

I’ve been told that I just say that to get guys’ attention.

I have had my sexuality disregarded by many people. My parents included.

I am afraid of what will happen when they realize that I really am bisexual. I do not suspect anything abusive, but I may be kicked out. After all, when they found out that I was sexually active, they sent me to an inpatient treatment center for 17 months and we moved to a different state.

So I am going to be saving my money, paying off my debt, and moving out as soon as possible. Then when I ‘come out’ to them again, I won’t have to worry about ending up with no place to live.

 

 

 

 

*(in this case the whole debate about making religious employers cover hormone contraceptive pill, which is largely because it would effect me, as a sufferer of PCOS who medicates with birth control in order to have the chance to have kids someday)

I can hide who I am, not let anybody see, lie and pretend. I’ve done it all my life. I don’t assert that I’m bisexual, I rarely tell people at all. I had one year in school where I wore baggy cloth, cut my hair short and was called “tranny” by my peers. I never said I was a guy. I was wearing what was in fashion. Without wearing clothes that were too tight, as I always got unwanted attention for my chest. I was only thirteen. I didn’t want to be called a slut, either.

I know how to play the roles they assign to me. I can act and I can fool them. I play my role when I need to.

And the melancholy claws at my soul.

I can pretend I don’t like girls. Or I can pretend I don’t like guys. I can pretend that my gender is perfectly normal and in line with my sex.

I can pretend that I don’t love sex and don’t want to have it. That I don’t like it. That when it’s forced on me it’s doesn’t destroy me.

I lie so well, I often think ‘I could be a spy’! It’d be fun. My masks would serve a purpose beyond saving face. Beyond protecting me from pain.

I’ve only had rocks thrown at me for trying to be me. I’ve never been beaten for it. I’ve only had words cast my way. I’ve never been ostracized for it.

I’ve never been alone. I always had someone to turn to. I always had people who understood. Even if it didn’t make sense to them.

I’ve never gone to the hospital because of someone I love. Just a few bruises, nothing too bad. I got out of it before it got too bad.

I’ve never worried about the safety of my children, because I’ve never had them.

I’ve never had to make the hard choice between keeping a secret… And keeping someone safe. I’ve never had to tell people I just fell off the swing, or ran into a door. That’s never been my lie.

I can pretend I’m happy, and content, and that nothing is wrong.

It’s easy. Because nothing’s gotten too bad.

But I shouldn’t have to.

No one should.

But I know I’ve had it easy. Because there are people who can’t pretend. Who are cast out and aside and scorned and hated for things they can’t change. And as I’ve only touched on these things. Only felt the briefest edge of them. I know that it’s hard.

So I work to make it so no one has to go through it. I only ask that others do the same.

 

Love,

Samie ❤

So due to an amusing turn of events (and a mild challenge), I ended up dressing in an androgynous style. Part of it was because my friends didn’t believe I could, but part of it was because I’ve always been obsessed with Androgyny. In my last article titled ‘Sex‘, I discussed gender binary and my belief that it’s no ones business but your own how you identify and portray yourself in terms of sex and gender.

But I decided to give the whole thing a bit more thought. My obsession with androgyny is linked to my gender identity, but not the whole picture. Part of the reason, I believe, that I like the idea of being able to look androgynous is rooted in the fact that I like to pretend to be someone else.

Not just role-playing or acting, but being someone else. I have always used the metaphor that I wear a mask, and while thinking about it, I truly do. While I think on it, I wonder how many of my friends I know and truly trust to see the real me. Not many. In fact, very few.

And a part of it, I believe is my unhappiness with myself. I will say flat out that I have a hard time believing that my friends will accept me for who I am.

Because I am quite convinced that they will not.

That I am somehow damaged, odd, and abnormal in such a way that people will not like me. That I am annoying. A freak. I know that many of us feel this way.

But the issue of showing who we are to those we love is an important one, because if we don’t trust them enough to see who we are, there is no way we will ever know.

So I encourage you to share yourself with your friends. They may surprise you.

If nothing else, it may be the proper reminder that you need to go out and find real friends. Those who can’t accept you for who you are are not worth your time.

'Masks' by Seraphim Azriel '07

Identity is more than how others view you, however. It is how you view yourself. Happiness in your friendships and your identity comes when you feel that your identity is accepted by those you love. When you’re afraid that they will not accept you, whether it is because of a history of such actions from others, or from your own fears and ideas about how society is, then you will be unhappy.

So many of us, myself included, will wear ‘masks’. These faux-identities that we believe people will accept. My most common one is a happy, ditzy, hyper and, let’s be honest, somewhat stupid individual. Another one is a hardcore woman who doesn’t care what anyone thinks.

Both ‘masks’ are a part of me, but neither are the whole picture, even together. When I am hiding the whole picture from people, I am not letting them accept me. And I believe they recognize that. Those who do not get to see the whole picture keep their distance just as you keep yours.

So, in an effort to take my own advice, I am going to be sharing this blog with my friends. And I will admit, I am positively terrified to do so.

I have been busy. A little less than a week since my last update and I haven’t posted my ‘Thankful’s daily. I will, however, be adding them as one massive, weekly post to make it easier to keep track of everything. For me, at least.

I have been trying to remember my meds. I have missed a couple days, but not as many. I think I am going to have to get one of those daily pill boxes to remember.

I have had depressive days this week. I have officially decided to tell my brother (who inspired me to start this blog) about them; he has been supportive. I think a major reason why he understands is not just because of his own experiences, but because his ex-girlfriend has depression. It caused a lot of issues in their relationship, and they broke up, but are still friends.

So while he doesn’t have to deal with (clinical) depression or bipolar or anxiety, it’s nice to have someone that understands.

I have also given up refined sugars, which are supposed to be really bad for you. Not just for your general health (chances of getting diabetes and such), but also for your emotional health, according to Anti-DepressionFoods.com

I am hoping that this helps. I’ll admit, it’s hard, since I’m a bit of a sugar addict, and my body is so far hating me for it, but I have seen an increase in my moods. I am not going to give them up entirely forever, but until my brother’s wedding (Feb. 20th) I am not going to have any. It’s also partially to lose weight for his wedding (which is in Hawaii).

So far, my list of changes are:

  • Taking St. John’s Wort and Fish Oil daily for their anti-depressive effects.
  • Eliminating processed sugars from my diet.
  • Daily/Weekly ‘I Am Thankful for…’/’I am…’/’Tomorrow I will…’ statements.

I am also going to start exercising daily from here on. At least 20 minutes every morning. That is my next goal for this. 🙂

Edit: Oh! I forgot! I also gave myself a haircut! I now have bangs! Amazing what trimming some hair can do for your self-esteem. 🙂

While I said I am only going to do five a night, I have some catching up to do and I’m feeling down. So here goes!

Goals will be five for tomorrow, five for the week.

I am thankful for: the oppurtunity to meet new people, making new friends, actually getting to hang out with a female friend, Applebee’s Bahama Mamas (YUM!), having a working car, having enough money to pay for the things I need, having a steady job, my success so far in running my own business, that my writing books came in, that I have a warm house for the winter, that I am going to be playing D&D tomorrow, a brother that will text me when I don’t show up, amusing webcomics that update on time, a mother who makes dinner, preparing food to eat in advance, friends who will help with my goals, my brother getting married in three months, his amazing fiance, winter clothing.

I am: beautiful, interesting, funny, intelligent, witty, charming, friendly, successful, capable, well-read, informed, active, talented, stylish, well dressed, likable, creative, inspired, curious, musical, casual.

Goals: Tomorrow I will: Finish my article for freelancing. Write a post for my main blog. Write a post for my fiction blog. Write 10,000 words for NaNoWriMo. Have fun hanging out with my friends.

This week (by 11/27) I will: Get up to 45,000 for NaNoWriMo. Set up my game plan for next week for marketing. Prep all necessary marketing. Finish Reading ‘Productive Writer’. Exercise every day.