"It's all in your head"

There are a lot of mixed ideas about anxiety. And unless you have anxiety, it's hard to really understand what the big deal is. Before I had my first attack, I honestly thought it was people overreacting.

But then you get hit with an attack and you literally don't know how to deal with it. Because it's a brand new sensation, one you never want to relive. It's one of those things that, when you explain it to someone who doesn't suffer from anxiety, they simply don't get it. Like you once were, they think it's all in your head.

But that's the thing. It IS all in your head.

That doesn't make it any less credible, less painful, or less significant. It's just simply that it's a mental disorder, and those without it, can't wrap their heads around it.

I've had people tell me to just deal with it. That it's not a big deal. That I probably have some other sort of problem that I'm overlooking, a bigger problem. I've been told to focus on other things, rather than my attack.

You wouldn't tell someone with the flu to simply "not think about it", right? Because if you stop thinking about your physical ailment, you'll be cured, right?

No.

I'm not saying positive energy doesn't help. I'm just saying that it's a lot more complicated than that.

Everyone experiences anxiety slightly differently. I mean, it's not a cookie cutter thing.

The first time you have one is possibly one of the most terrifying attacks you'll ever have. And it'll hit you at a time you didn't expect. You knew that the bell tower made you feel uncomfortable, but you had no idea it would make your head spin. Sirens had always made your hair stand on end, but the helplessness you feel just doesn't make sense.

It's a hot, trapped pain in your chest. You feel tight and irritable. That's how I know it's coming. my chest just feels constricted by something so incredibly warm in the most uncomfortable way, and you want so desperately to escape but you simply can't.

As the attack intensifies, your heart rate sky-rockets. Your breathing becomes shallow and quick, as your mind is filled with panic-ridden thoughts. You want to cry, and sometimes do, from the physical and emotional pain of it all.

Sometimes it passes quickly. Sometimes it's only a few minutes of headache and tears. But sometimes it can last much longer.

The whole time the attack is going on, you just feel despair. You don't know what to do, or how to handle it, as hot tears roll down your cheeks. You feel at a loss. You feel miserable, and in pain. And you just want it to stop. And you don't have control over it.

This is how anxiety feels.

It's not a hopeless cause though, as it seems. During attacks, it honestly feels like nothing you could do could fix it. You feel so powerless.

But there are ways that I've learned that have helped considerably. At the beginning, when I start to feel hot and tight, I do temperature and texture changes. I clutch an ice cube, run my hands under cold water, or step outside. I have certain procedures that I do whenever I feel an attack coming. It's almost reflex. If the temperature doesn't lessen or stop it enough, I grab a fuzzy blanket and rub it between my fingers. I know it seems silly, it's almost a security blanket.

There are definitely ways to prevent or lessen the pain that is afflicted when an attack hits.

The thing that makes it the easiest to go through is knowing there's someone that will empathize with you after. Bonnie doesn't feel what I'm feeling, but she doesn't discredit my mental state or my emotions, and we work out what triggered the attack, so I can learn to prevent a future one.

Anxiety is a delicate thing. Treat those who suffer with love. Don't put down their emotions because you don't understand. That's honestly the worst thing you could do. even if you don't necessarily seek to understand why or what is happening, at least empathize.

Don't grow up

The longer I've lived away from home, the more grateful I am for my wonderful parents and all they've done for me.

I remember many, many years, however, when I didn't feel like this. At all. I remember resenting my parents wishes and regulations, and kicking against the pricks.

The more I've thought about this over the last few months, the more I've been reminded of my many younger siblings, specifically my sisters. They're going through the same things that I went through. So, this post is dedicated to my younger sisters, so they don't make the same mistakes that I did.

1. Love our parents.
Take a moment and just revel in the love our parents have for you. Not every kid has it as lucky as us, with parents who are so understanding and accepting, and so full of love. The love they have for us is equal and unconditional. Let them know that you're grateful for that love.

2. Listen to our parents.
I know that a lot of the things our parents say don't make sense. Or they do make sense, but we feel like we know better than them. Please trust me when I say that they know better than we do. if they advise you not to date a boy, listen to them. If they enforce curfew, keep up your end. If they ask you to stay in one night, please, PLEASE listen to them. They have years of experience, and insights that you don't. Take advantage of those, because you no longer have the close guidance once you move out.

3. Respect our parents.
Last one of these, I promise. Even if you obey our parents to the letter, it won't mean much if you don't respect them and their decisions. One of the best ways to show love is through respect. Let them know that, even though you might not understand all of their desires and decisions, you at least trust and respect their judgment. They were once your age. They get it. I promise.

4. Squeeze the kiddos.
You have roughly a thousand siblings. ;) But seriously, we were so lucky to get so many wonderful siblings. And I know it's sometimes hard to appreciate them when you're living with them, but remind each other that you love each other. Give hugs and kisses openly to each other.

5. Your words mean a lot.
Use your words wisely. They can have so much weight. Pick your words carefully, and speak like you would like to be spoken to.

6. Learn.
Once you move out, you'll be working, you'll have an enormous school work load, and the time to learn whatever your heart desires will be over much too quickly. Take advantage of this time. Soak up knowledge and experience. Cook lots. Learn how to clean(seriously). Snuggle with mom and read books together. Go on walks around the neighborhood. Go rock hunting. Take pictures of the sunset. Make mudpies(in a contained area, so mom doesn't kill me ;) ). Draw pictures and hang them on the wall(but please don't draw pictures ON the wall, this isn't Croods). Spend time just enjoying the presence of your siblings and parents. Don't hide in your rooms on Sunday. Lay on the floor with Dad and the puppy, listen as he falls asleep reading "Work and the Glory" to you. Pay attention when you all watch "17 Miracles". Soak everything up.

7. Be creative.
In every way possible. Learn what you love doing, explore everything.

8. Your family are the best friends you could have.
Friend. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. All of the above include the word "end". But family doesn't. We all want to get to the Celestial Kingdom together, and you won't be going with the cute boy from Sunday School(probably), or the friend down the street. I'm not saying that those aren't relationships worth cultivating, but the most important relationships are those within the home.

9. Talk to our parents.
When something is wrong, please tell them. This is seriously one of the things I regret the most, now that I've moved out. Things are so much harder to deal with when you're dealing with them alone. Talk to mom about all of your feelings. Have debates with add about health and fitness ideas. Cry in their arms when something goes wrong, and feel no shame. Because they will always love and support you, no matter your problem.

10. Keep your eyes on the Lord.
This is so important. It's very easy to lose sight of this, and it just gets harder once you move away from home. Solidify your standards now, so there will be no questions later. I know you've heard this a thousand times in Sunday School, but this is so important. Be steadfast, and never have any doubt in the Lord.

I miss each of you every single day. I miss your goofy smiles, the way you'd use my legs as a jungle gym, and how you can't pronounce your "r's" yet. The pictures mom and dad send of you melt my heart. You will never know the degree of love everyone has for you.

Ya'll are adorable. I love you. Keep dancing to Enya and Jack Johnson. I'll see you in a month and a half!

Love, your big sister <3

When all else is gone, at least there is bacon

Life has been going so fast the past month or so, I have barely enough time to breathe.

About a month ago, I picked up a second job. I am now working between 60 and 80 hours a week.

I've been making a lot of plans and preparations for this summer and next semester.

I've been learning a second language.

I've been doing homework like crazy, and I still seem to be failing.

Bonnie and I dipped our toes into the paleo pool a little over two weeks ago.

I still drink a lot of kombucha.

I would never waste bacon.

My lovely family came to visit and gah I love them so much.

I have a few huuuuuge updates, but, nothing is set in stone yet. So. You'll have to wait another month or so to get information on them.

I seriously feel as though my creative pool has been drained, because I feel as if I never have anything to share here.

 

Homeskooled

I wish I could have a picture of the exact moment that I totally ate concrete this afternoon, because I need another reminder of how graceful I am.

Yesterday was my birthday and it was filled with the people I love most and I am so grateful to everyone that was there. Bonnie woke me up with a stocking full of candy and crayons, and a ginormous coloring book. I got a package from my family, who I got to facetime shortly after opening it. Two of my dear friends made me a shirt that said "#HOMESKOOLED" and I love it to pieces and I wore it today, when I totally biffed it on the longboard.

And my father posted on my facebook wall and I laughed so hard upon reading it. Seriously. Hilarious.

I have been so beyond stressed and everything has been crazy lately. It was so nice to have a day that was much more low-key and it was one of the best birthdays I've ever had.

I'm so blessed by those around me.

Aaand...now this is the end of an incredibly boring blog post. Sorry yo.

And at last, I see the light...

On November 1st, 2013, my mood perfectly matched the cloudy gloom hovering over downtown Salt Lake City. I thought my world had come to an end, sure that I would never recover. Even after you had moved on, I hadn't. For months, I clung to a hope that someday, you'd return to the inverted city, and we'd pick up right where we left off. I thought I'd never be over it. Everyone I knew prayed that I would get over it, because frankly, it was getting annoying.

It took 3 1/2 months.

Having the little bit of perspective that I have, finally, I can say that I'm grateful it ended.

You were a great guy. You taught me a lot about myself. You showed me how to love myself, how to open up, how to share what I needed to, how to get help. I learned that it was okay to fall quickly, and I learned to fall for myself as well.

I also learned that you were a bit of a douchenozzle.

My name in your phone was "Danger Slut ;)". I thought it was funny at the time. It's not.

I thought it was funny how you would call your mom and call her a whore or a skank. It's not.

You liked video games way too much. There's nothing wrong with video games. But when they took priority over me? On multiple ocassions? Yeah no.

Everyone has baggage. I get it. I can handle baggage. *I* have baggage. But if you're gonna constantly tell me that I can't handle all your baggage? I shouldn't even try.

You had a bad past. You let me know, and I'm grateful for that. But you shouldn't glorify your past, talk about it almost as if you're proud of it. I loved that you were honest about your past. But there's no need to bring it up everyday... Please.

You would always joke that the day we met was the best day of MY life, but for you, it was just another Sunday.

The way you would objectify me, sometimes make me feel like such an object?

"Aurora, do you know why we're friends?" "Because I bring you ice cream." "No, that's because you're in love with me." "Than why?" "Because I love your butt." It was funny the first time.

Dead fishing is just gross. Please no.

After the first few days of us dating, you would usually only kiss me when other people were around, for your own comidic satisfaction. Not because you loved me, or because I wanted to kiss you.

Let me repeat. I am not an object.

My sister hated you. You tore us apart. You honestly didn't mean to. But I should've listened to her.

You were my first love, and I was absolutely smitten by you.

And I never wanna have a love like that again.

The real reason I quit my job

"Hey, I'm on my way to work now. Please text me when you leave. I love you, and I'm going to miss you so much." I felt like I was sending my entire heart away as I sent that text, breathing into the cold air, shoving my hands into the pockets of my plaid peacoat at 9:45 on November 1st.

My boyfriend was moving.

And it was the saddest thing of my life.

He and I fit together so well, I couldn't imagine finding someone who fit better. We had talked about marriage, somewhat seriously, and even though we would fight about it more often than not, we had ultimately decided that it was a mutual desire. He had even called my little sister asking for advice on how to pop the question.

We had known for 3 weeks that he was leaving. And we had spent 2 of those weeks pretending it wasn't happening. And then, the final week, I spent every moment I wasn't at work or in class, with him. I spent those few moments between said activities with tears streaming down my face.

And the last day before he moved? I woke up with tears in my eyes. I cried my way through the day, as I sat in class, doing homework, getting my Halloween costume ready. I had to hold back on the costume makeup and make sure that what makeup I WAS wearing was waterproof.

His last words the night before, as he kissed me goodbye on the stairs outside his apartment, caused my heart to feel like it was being ripped in half. "Hey, I really care about you, okay? I always will. I love you, Aurora." he said, before shutting the door. I called back, "Yeah, okay, I care about you too," in the joking manner that I normally would. The second the door shut, I pressed my face against the wall, his door still in sight, sobs racking through my body. I heard the door opening again, and I slipped around the corner so he wouldn't have to see the mess I had become.

I clocked into work, and tried to pretend that my eyes weren't puffy and red as I got chatted in. I got my daily assignment, dressing room, and struggled all morning to blink away tears. I blew off the questions from coworkers when they asked what was wrong. I told them I had allergies, which we all knew was BS. When my emotions got bad enough, I would rush to the bathroom to throw up, and I made excuses(at least one of my coworkers was convinced I was pregnant). I processed box after box of shoes that I couldn't actually see past the veil of tears over my eyes.

There was one box of shoes that I will never forget.

Shortly after 12, after 2 hours of struggling to keep myself together, I stood in the dressing room, processing a box of some of the ugliest shoes I'd ever seen, and I looked up to see the most beautiful human being walking towards me.

I had always thought my boyfriend was attractive. But he seemed to almost glow as he walked up to me, in his jeans and a red hoodie.

My face broke into the biggest smile. "You are literally the last person I expected to see today." I said, as he came forward and enveloped me in his arms. He laughed, kissing me. "I know. That's why I'm here."

"I thought you left at 7, though." I pulled away, not wanting to get in trouble for PDA.

"We had a bunch of errands we had to run. I had to practically beg Kevin to let me stop by and say goodbye to you." He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes and my knees threatened to buckle. I looked down at the shoes, my eyes no longer threatening to spill over, for that brief, blissful moment.

"I can't stay," he said, as I felt my heart drop down to my feet. "Kevin is idling outside. He'll kill me if I take more than a minute." He reached out for me, holding me to his chest.

"I don't want you to leave me," I whispered, fighting back tears.

He pulled away, pressing his lips against mine for the last time. "This isn't for forever. I love you, Aurora."

"I love you too," I choked out.

As I watched that beautiful man walk away, I lost it. I leaned against the table, bent over double, as sobs threatened to loudly leave my throat, as my eyes burned with tears that couldn't be released fast enough. I saw him, barely visible through my tears, look back at me with so much sadness that it made my heart break even more than it already was, if that was even possible, right before he headed down the broken escalators.

The rest of the day my heart felt like it was going to stop working. I had never felt so much pain in my entire life. I begged my boss to let me leave early, and she refused. My eyes threatened to leak at the most inconvenient moments. My stomach lurched and twisted while I would be talking to customers, directing them to their dressing rooms, my eyes glazed over with tears.

Everyday, walking into that dressing room, was like a wound being ripped back open, for two months. Every time I'd see those hideous shiny shoes, a small part of me died.

I couldn't face everyday with that reminder of what I'd lost.

And so, I quit my job. I found somewhere new, somewhere that wasn't full of memories of him picking me up for lunch dates, of anticipating going to his place as soon as I got off work, the memories of him dropping me off and picking me up at work. The memory of my loss.

I quit my job because there was nothing else I could do to stop the pain.

Just another Sunday night

Being with you was like the kind of heart pattering that you're afraid will be audible to everyone in the vicinity.

It was sweaty palms, quick pulse, fast blinking, and explosive butterflies.

It was sweet, slow, and meaningful.

It was lingering, omnipresent. On my mind when I was sorting clothes at work, when I'd be walking under the street lights at 2 am, when I was making pinwheels for my roommates, when I'd wear those red pants you loved, or the navy sweater you adored, or when anyone would mention the Classic Doctor Who.

It was the kind of love that was reciprocated.

It was the best kind of love.

It was not being able to eat for the first week because the thought of you left me feeling too twitterpated and full of feelings to leave room for food.

It was feeling comfortable snuggling up on the couch and crying about the stupid things on my mind.

It was french fries and ice cream on bad days.

It was you pretending that I was 20 for the first few weeks, because the fact that I was 18 and you loving me was scary to you.

It was knowing that you were just as baby hungry as anyone I knew, and totally being okay with you referring to my belly as "the fungeon" when speaking of our future children.

It was feeding you beef jerky when you were wearing gloves.

It was feeling comfortable screaming along to Taylor Swift, because you thought it was funny.

It was loving that I could listen to Eminem with you, and listening to you keep up with him.

It was not being afraid to talk to you for hours outside while I felt incredibly vulnerable.

It was you starting to say "Super" in front of everything, the way that I do.

It was me sticking my neck out with a goofy grin and saying "noooooo" when something goes wrong, just like you do.

It was letting me beat you at video games, with that goofy smile on your face.

It was you covering my eyes when a shark would come on tv.

It was being okay with you seeing me in sweats and a big t shirt.

It was arguing about where we would live once we got married, since we'd kind of taken it as a fact.

It was constant quotes from "The Evil Dead" and "Army of Darkness".

It was falling asleep on your couch, woken up with a kiss.

It was piggy back rides to the grocery store.

It was watching you leave my apartment huddled under my flower printed fleece blanket, because it was too cold outside.

It was you surprise visiting me at work, and having lunch with me on my lunch breaks.

It was telling you about my family, and you enjoying it.

It was you being okay with me seeing you cry.

It was your proclamation of love to everyone who could hear when I brought you ice cream.

It was everything that I could want in a relationship, everything that I thought love was.

But at the end of the day...the day we met was the best day of my life, but for you, it was just a regular Sunday.