Womp Womp

I find that to be a great sound effect. But anyways, I actually have a lot of stuff to ramble about, and if whoever is reading this knows me, or has been reading this for a while, then that person will know that I tend to stay away from anything overly trite. I also dislike using clichés and being terribly angsty and dramatic.

And now that I've said all of that, I would like to place a warning here saying that there's a good chance that the below post will contain all of the above. So be warned, beware, huzzah, onwards and upwards. And all that jazz.

I hate to admit this, but I'm pretty sure I've been legitimately depressed lately. Yeah, people say that all the time, when they're having a bad day, they turn to a friend and say, "Dude, man I'm like tots depressed, man." But this is legit. And you know it's legit when I use the word "legit." This was three weeks long and I skipped classes for the first time all year, all I wanted to do was sleep, plus I had no appetite. Oh, and I was prone to bursting into tears at any moment.

Now the big question is why. At the start of this bout of depression, I didn't know what was wrong with me. All I knew was that my leg was killing me and I could barely walk, let alone run. Now that I've had an x-ray and an MRI I know that I have a stress reaction. A "very obvious" one and a very bad one. A stress reaction is the step before a stress fracture. Basically I was in pain because my leg was this close to fracturing.

Excellent.

Now add to this that it's my senior season and I still haven't run my best and I wouldn't have been able to because of the fact that running made me feel like a hammer was being taken to my shin whenever I took a step.

The good news is that there's a good chance I'll be able to medical red-shirt since I literally cannot run. They even have me off the elliptical and back onto a stationary bike. Huzzah.

And now come the trite and awful, eye-gouging clichés. Everything manages to work out in the end. At least that's the hopes of it. And everything happens for a reason. I was bored of running, I was tired, and I was burnt out. I think that this injury is taking me away from running for long enough that I start missing it and that I'll be able to come back to it fresh. I'll have a new appreciation for it that I haven't had for a few months now.

As is very obvious by the last couple of posts, I've been a big fan of weheartit.com. Especially now since it has all these fancy pictures of sunsets and landscapes with inspirational quotes in Helvetica. And quotes in fancy typography, and such and such. But I feel like these are the things that have kept me hopeful about my leg and kept me up when I was so complacent to be down.  (Apologies for the angst)

And now onto another topic. Very much related, yet not at all.

My potential tattoo. Now before I go into this any more than I already have, I want to say that I'm not the type of girl to get a tattoo. I'm not adventurous in that sense. Yeah, I'll eat a snail just to try it, and yeah I'll eat almost anything without hesitation (talk to the old German lady I followed around the buffet), I'll even run down that treacherous looking trail with you. But I am not the girl who gets a tattoo. I have two piercings, one on each lobe. I have never died my hair. I am quiet and shy and not assertive. And in all 22 years of my life, I've never wanted a tattoo.

Where did this want come from then? I think it's because I've never done anything for myself. I always think of other people before I do it. Think of what they will think of me. That's one reason I was so terrified to be a creative writing – I was scared of what people would think of me and my stories. I'm terrified of judgement. I'm terrified of change. I'm terrified of putting my self out there only to be rejected.

I was am unhappy biology major for three years because that's what my parents wanted me to do. They wanted me to be a successful doctor and make lots of money and be comfortable. And that's not such a bad want for your only daughter. But I was incredibly unhappy (note, I didn't say depressed). I was failing classes and I was always stressed and whenever I talked about classes, I wouldn't smile. I would sound tired and worn out.

So one day, after I found out that I failed a chemistry class again, I went to the athletic academic advisor and burst into tears about what was I supposed to do?! I can't do chemistry and math? Shit, math was like brain surgery to me. Or rocket science even.

"What do you like doing? What are you good at?"

"Creative writing."

Simple as that. But that's all I needed to hear. That was the push I needed to switch majors. But then I needed to tell my parents and I was terrified of their reactions: disappointment, anger, and judgement are just a few of the reactions I was imagining. And there was definitely disappointment.

Step two. I've always planned on being a doctor. Now what do I do?
This is where the career center, a small building on campus, hidden away up a hill and behind some plants came in handy. I planned on going with one of my best friends and ever since then, everything has kind of fallen into place.

I finally did something for myself. Yeah, it was hard and I was scared the whole time, but the point is, I did it for me.

Being a creative writing major has made me open up and make myself more vulnerable. On the other hand, it has also helped me harden myself against what other people think. Because yeah, I won't lie. I care about what other people think about me, but these creative writing workshops, the professors always say not to listen to everything that everyone says. Just listen to the people who seem to know where you are going and are helping with that. (I'm not sure if they realize how inspiration this can be when applied to life instead of short stories.)

And now, I bring right back around to my stress reaction. A bookend if you will. Watch me throw out some creative writing terminology. Bitches. (Sorry, it had to be done.)

All pictures in this post come from weheartit.com where it probably came from somewhere else. They're all in my heart which is linked a few posts earlier. Check it out – good website.