Cheers to positivism

I’ve never really let my guard down around people but I truly want to enjoy quality time with some friends I know I  can confide in. Between the backstabbing, the misunderstandings, the fights and the gossiping, I find it hard to trust someone that will sell me out the moment we get a set back. 

This is why my pessimist self is so glad to have been proven wrong today when I enjoyed a sunny Friday afternoon with my classmates. It’s hard to imagine having a good time with acquaintances because we just keep it superficial but sometimes we can get a very enjoyable moment out of it. 

So cheers to good surprises in life

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Casual hookups 

I’m thinking how difficult it is to just trust someone and how more difficult it is to open up to someone. All those expectations that you have of a new friend and all of what is expected from you to be to that person. It’s exhausting to explain, it’s indelicate to ask and it’s infuriating to be patient. And that’s where casual hookups come in. 

It’s enough to have someone you only have this one thing with that makes you understand each other and be comfortable around the other, like your language learning buddy or your coworkers. Someone you can still freely talk to but not have to get deep and heavy with or at least not more than what you share in common (hard to not  get deep and heavy if you’re both attending the same AA meetings for example). Just casual occasional conversation that doesn’t have to lead anywhere, that doesn’t imply an involving future in each other’s life. A bit shallow or superficial and maybe even pointless but it’s like a midnight snack or having sweets for breakfast, doesn’t it just make you happy? 

Important “Know”s

To know when to quit

To know when to leave

To know when to follow 

To know when to insist 

To know when to protest 

To know when to give up 

To know when to forgive 

To know when to forget 

To know when to believe 

To know when to repent 

To know when to not love 

To know when to breath 

To know when to cry 

To know when to shake it off 

To know when to thrive 

To know when you’ve learned to always be 

Nymphomania 

Nymphomania is a word often wrongly used. People with a lot of sex drive are called nymphomaniacs, prostitutes are also called that and people who just keep the door open for more and more people to get in are also called that. 

But in reality, a nymphomaniac is someone who can’t be sexually satisfied so he searches relentlessly for sexual partners just so he can finally climax. 

Being a nymphomaniac is a more like a kind of suffering and frustration than love a pleasure because no matter how much they seek it, it never lasts or worst, it never comes. 

Addicted to “being special”

With a straightforward face, 

With a shamed look, 

With dead eyes, 

With a big smile, 

I can mutter / I can easily say / I can finally utter / I can desperately whisper : I suffer from depression. 

While, in my darkest days, I’d wish for someone to understand, help, just talk or listen to me, I realized that I don’t want to snap out of the vicious cycle though. 

I remember someone asking me once if I could change anything about me, what would I change; and I remember answering nothing. Everything that turned wrong, ugly, or troubling are all parts of me that made me the person I am today. Idealistic answer and totally sincere at the time. 

Now, I just think that how common would I turn out without the migraine or my depression to differentiate me from others? Without maybe my poor relationship with my father, I’d just be another happy little girl within millions. If I never had experience some of the struggles I did because of my imperfections, I’d probably be one like many many too many other human beings breathing on this Earth. 
And it’s troubling to think that the only way to be unique is to actually burden something or have something more or less than the common man. 

Two big examples are college and teen supernatural / paranormal frenzies. 

To be able to attend a good college with great reputation, you’d need a curriculum vitae filled with skills, perfect marks, lots of involvement and more and more extracurricular options. Going to school ain’t enough to qualify for college, it’s an excuse so you can apply for one. What would be my chances to get in Oxford if I only got perfect grades, 2 or 3 club activities and no special skills?? None! Nowadays, college preparations begins at kindergarten with foreign languages, music classes, dance practices and participating in many competitions. I’m pretty much happy and blessed I didn’t have to live up to such expectations and still got into a good one, thank God for being a 90s baby. 

The new craze is supernatural powers or paranormal phenomenon. If toxic waste could be legally sold, it would become one of the biggest profits probably. Everyone wants to have superpowers, being able to fly or be abnormally strong or to read minds. How awesome would that be? The next big thing beside that would be to be possessed by some demon or to know about a parallel world that nobody knows about. Don’t talk shit to me, I can redirect death to your door, he owes me one. Being called freak or abnormal would be such a low cost to what possibilities you’d have access to. 

Compared to that, just being an ordinary human, living a normal life, going to community college or working full time on a hour pay job is so unappealing, and to some demeaning. 

I guess we all have to be special somehow, we all want to be like no one else. 

The little meaningful things

Sometimes I have little things bothering me. Finding a good hair salon. Futile, mundane, vain, superficial.. But they still bother me. Getting pierced and not having an infection. If it looks that way to me, useless to say how worse it looks to the outside world. Some of them make me really anxious. Dining in a posh restaurant for the first time. Some of them brings me microseconds of happiness. A lipstick color that suits me. 
Every single time, I pray desperately so it goes well. I pray and pray, almost giving God ultimatums. Their final outcome have enough impact on me to make me feel God’s presence or even go as far as resent Him. And those aren’t things you can speak openly to anybody. You do know there are kids dying of hunger in Africa right? I am fully aware of that but it won’t make my problems go away. Instead of worrying about such worthless things, why don’t you do something helpful or meaningful? It’s not that I don’t understand that, otherwise I wouldn’t be annoyed but it just matters to me anyway and I’d wish, from the bottom of my heart, for it to go well. 


To protest 

Vegans, ecologists, feminists, etc… A lot of the protesters tend to be harsh, agressive and hurtful. 

If I want to use plastic bags instead of reusable bags or other alternative is my own preference. If I’d like to eat meat until my belly explodes, again my favoritism. So what that I’m black and don’t feel concerned about today’s racial insecurities? Because something is wrong by your eyes as well as possibly generally and universally wrong doesn’t give you the right to attack me, as long as it isn’t illegal or a cause of moral issues, I am allowed to live how the hell I want. 

I see people throw paint on people wearing fur, women trying to shame housewives, vegans trying to almost make you do suicide because you still eat meat… And it’s wrong… On so many levels. 

The problem is that people don’t try to freely inspire or talk anymore. We’re more into advertising, arguing and imposing. And it might possibly be the result of our poor listening and the fact that we’re gradually getting more self-centered (it has nothing to do with me). 

Disputes, misunderstandings, demeaning, war, war and war would have a bigger impact, right? 

News ranting 

I didn’t write for a long time and to be quite honest, it’s like I lost my touch. 

What’s going on with you? With me huh? Well, my education took a 180 degree turn and I have to transfer somewhere somehow. A part of my family is ganging up on me in favor of my father, the other part either remain silent or is indifferent to my troubles, which causes even more trouble for us all. My dog is basically giving life to insects, there are more tricks and fleas on her than Mother Nature has, she has an appointment this week, I hope she’ll get rid of them for good. I’m crushing hard on a book series, that is unfinished and seems like its about to be abandoned too. I’m still empathetic and a crybaby (I only need 2 seconds alone and I’ll be crying over stupid crap, water just overflows on its own, I’m getting dehydrated too fast). My sinus are really irritated lately which was the root to a few migraines that I could have lived without. 

That’s about how much I’m willing to share, since I even got lazier. 

The right to be called ill

I probably have some of the worst sicknesses of all, the invisible, most stigmatized, most misunderstood illnesses and the most easy to brush off. I’m not saying they’re all at the top of the list, they sure are somewhere in it. 

I suffer from :

  1. Depression 
  2. Migraine 
  3. Minor Acrophobia  
  4. Serious Claustrophobia 
  5. Anxiety 
  6. Panic Attacks
  7. Constipation 


  • I wrote so much about my depression here. And since I started, it still doesn’t feel like people around me have started to understand the true meaning behind my isolation. Labeled as capricious, needy, spoiled, attention seeker, gloomy, boring, mute, cold, empathetic, indifferent, a drama and crisis lover, I just stopped explaining what I suffer from and how it affects me. This way, I don’t get disappointed and hurt, in the end, when I realize that the same people who where nodding to my explanation were the first ones to throw me under the bus when things got intense. 
  • I think I used up all my energy trying to convince my parents and friends that migraines are an actual illness. They all blame it on anemia, fatigue, lack of /too much exercise and else. Even my doctor, once told me they were just bad headaches. And until 6 years ago,  I couldn’t understand why I had to take a specific pill, why I had auras (I didn’t even know they were auras), how a simple headache could make me so hypersensitive to sound, light, touch.. So many unanswered questions until a doctor told me about it when I was discussing of it with my mom at the hospital. She still doesn’t believe it’s an illness though and the number of times she hid my pills from me because she said it was irrational to take one every single time my head hurt, “you’ll get accustomed to it and it won’t work on you anymore, just get used to the pain once in a while”, she’d say. 
  • Acrophobia is the phobia of heights. I say minor because it doesn’t get as alarming as people afraid of getting on chairs or up the stairs. But it is a problem for me since I can’t look down from a certain height without the feeling of jumping. Even if there’s a crossbar, I  have to stay at a certain distance or the desire to jump will increase. I remember hiking with friends and we got at the top of this small mountain (less than 2000m high) and they were all taking pictures at the edge of it with the view of the foggy scenery below. It only took me one look and I couldn’t even stand anymore, I had to crawl away from it which got me a few mockeries and sarcastic comments. Even if I’m not the one at the edge, if my friends are too close, it gets to me too. It’s a freaky feeling and I’ve been called suicidal because of it sometimes, which it’s understandable when people had to stop you once or twice from walking to your death from a cliff and still have to keep an eye on you every time you get too close to one. 
  • Claustrophobia is a real problem in my daily life. Cars, elevators, closed rooms, anything that doesn’t have an immediate access to the outside scares the hell out of me. Once I was staying a weekend at a building apartment in NY with some friends, I almost got a heart attack from climbing 19 flats of stairs every single time I wanted to get in or out of there. It’s not easy for me specially in spring (sinusitis) and winter (cold) when I can’t keep the car windows down. I fainted once in a closed room with no windows, even my own room doesn’t stay closed for too long, I fainted twice in a elevator and I couldn’t even get into a store once because I didn’t see any other apertures than the front door which was locked after every customer got in. It’s a real struggle.
  • My anxiety has many triggers like the storms (since the time I’ve been almost hit by a tree struck by lightning), too longs distances (that’s due to another trauma I’m not ready to share), claustrophobia, etc. and it gives birth to the panic attacks.
  • Panic attacks are almost common with me and it seems like the older I get, the more often they are to happen. If I don’t take the time to control my breathing and cast away the trigger, I hyperventilate then pass out.. My father used to say that I was being pampered too much and this was the result of my resolve being too weak. Maybe he’s right, I don’t know. Any type of storm particularly the rainy ones are an enough reason to get me shivering to the point of me rarely consulting the weather report. What I don’t know can’t hurt me, right? 
  • Well that one is a bit of an embarrassing. I’ve been constipated since I was a baby, my mother never had problems with my diapers or potty training. The most time I held it in, until now, have been two and half months. Two awful months to be frank, I had multiple colics, bloatings, I felt uncomfortable, and it even reflected on my skin. But I can’t possibly do it once a day or even a week. It’s impossible for me. I tried many fiber diets or supplements. I used to love prune juice. But now, it doesn’t help me at all. It all just works temporarily. I actually have a support group for that because my doctor is worried every time he touches my belly. At most, I’d go to the bathroom every week or twice every 3 weeks. It’s something apparently concerning but I must say that I’m used to it by now. It doesn’t really worry me. Even the images of sick ugly black colons didn’t get to me so I guess it says a lot about me and my peristalsis intestinal. I do resort to laxatives once in a while. 

The reason why I’m being partially naked for you to see, it’s because of the stigma and misunderstanding attached to these illnesses. Beside my constipation and panic attacks, I’ve never received proper treatment for any of those; now that I think of it, I don’t know if breathing exercises count as treatment unless it is the actual treatment for panic attacks. Nobody thought it was necessary, just man up and cope with them or just snap out of it. 

I’m shamelessly showing to all of you some of my weaknesses, not to brag or to attract pity and sympathy. It’s awful that you can’t be accepted for who you are just because your surroundings fail to understand what you’re going through. It’s the way we are, whether we were born like this or have been affected by it through our life journey. It would be nice once a while to be truly supported by people that aren’t the same as you.