Rambling and Venting: Grocery Strangers' Judgments

I've been having trouble letting go of other people's opinions. My recent interactions and social grazes with strangers have been more negative than I'm used to, but maybe I was just never aware of the negativity before, because I assumed that everyone was just mostly neutral like I was.

Lately, when Mark and I go out to buy groceries, he has pointed out that people near us in the checkout line have been glaring at us and calling us show-offs because we often have a full cart since we typically buy a month's worth of groceries. But they don't know that at least 90% of our cart are discounted sales items; usually one or two things are not on sale. I've been ignorant to strangers' opinions because I intentionally avoid people as much as possible and usually don't interact with them (*social anxiety~ hence the only-once-a-month groceries). But Mark has pointed out these public comments to me afterward more than once. I know I shouldn't care what other people think, but it bothers me.

And to be clear, I don't feel bad or embarrassed. I'm angry.

Like, who thinks like this? I know there are people who think like this, but why put this kind of energy into the world? You don't know me, how I live, who I live with, who I'm taking care of, who I'm splitting costs with, or anything else about me. You could be saying this to someone who is struggling and who just happened to get a really nice work bonus or a gift card from their grandma and could afford a full cart this time. Or someone who saves up their money to get a full cart. Or someone who's picking and choosing all the sale items to save money where they can. Why are you gonna shame someone who is working their ass off to get this full cart and make them feel like shit? Fuck off with that mentality.

I know people don't know me and they have their own lived experiences and perspectives. But so do I. People don't know that I grew up poor. They don't know that, when I got my first job, I could only afford to live in a friend's living room and to buy enough Hot Pockets for a week at a time. I was pinching so many pennies that my coworkers at my first job pooled their money together so that I could afford better lunches and save a little more money. My friends were feeding me out of their generosity. When I was able to afford a room in someone's house, I was living off of Hot Pockets and instant ramen. I could hardly have imagined that I would be in my 30's and be able to afford more than a few days' worth of groceries at a time. A month's worth of groceries? It still blows my mind when I think about it. I've come a long way in a decade, and I'm proud of it. And everyone else who's been able to improve their lot in life should also be able to be proud of themselves for doing it every day without shitty strangers injecting their negativity. I'm glad these strangers did it to Mark and me because we can let it go for the most part, but it pisses me off that they probably also say this shit to other people who definitely do not deserve that kind of treatment even if it's just a blip in their lives. I hate people just trying to make other people feel bad.

And I know I'm very privileged to be able to afford the life that I have. To be able to go on vacations. To pay for much of my family's expenses. To have a job that pays well. To be able to save money. I'm aware of my privilege, but I'm working my ass off and burning myself out to earn it. I didn't come from money. I've never looked down on other people because of how much or how little they've had in their cart. I know what it's like to not have enough and to have other people look down on me for not having enough. I fucking hated it. People talking shit about my parents for not providing enough. People talking shit when my parents bought something expensive because they thought my parents were flaunting their money, when the reality was we scrimped and my dad worked so much overtime so that we could splurge once in a while. I just never understood the negative judgment and assumptions when people knew nothing about my family. And now to receive the same kind of judgment from strangers when I'm just another adult working and figuring my shit out, I'm just so fed up.

My parents' money mentality has been my money mentality for a long time. They did the best they could with the money they got. I was lucky that I got any college education, thanks to all the financial aid I was granted. There was no way I was ever smart or motivated enough to get scholarships. When I finished undergrad, I was proud to be the first person in my immediate family to get a college degree, probably the second in my entire extended family. Over time, I've been fortunate enough to go from job to better job and to afford necessities and luxuries. I've been able to save a decent amount because my parents taught me to save when I could. I've been so lucky with how my life has gone, and I'm so grateful for that. And I know not everyone gets that kind of luck. I try to be cognizant of that and do what I can to help others, and I know there are many people who think and act very similarly. It pains me to think that anyone who's just trying to do their best could be on the receiving end of a stranger's indignation or vitriol for some perceived BS. And again, I know strangers know nothing of me, and I'm not going to change any minds. But I just wish people didn't judge so harshly when they know so little of the people around them.

When I was younger, I used to look at my friends who had more I did and think, "Wow. I wish I had that much." But it was never with any animosity. It was more awe that people could have so much and maybe a sense of motivation, where I thought I could possibly get just as much in the future. It doesn't make sense to me to feel any other way, unless I think they didn't earn what they have.

I've lived paycheck to paycheck. I've lived off the generosity of many good friends and family. I try to pay it back and pay it forward when I can. But there will always be people who see how much I've got now and think I'm some pompous nobody because I've got a full cart. I got lucky and worked hard to get this full cart. And so did every other person in the line. Fuck off with the shitty mentality. Be happy that people can afford their groceries.

Burnt out

On the last day of a holiday weekend for my workplace. Today, I logged in to do some extra work to not fall farther behind from the 4-day weekend, saw the immense backlog, paused, responded to a couple of emails, and logged off. I cannot.

I've been putting in overtime nearly every work day since last September and hitting 60-hour weeks since the company layoffs in February. The layoffs disproportionately affected my immediate team. We lost half the team, even though we had been on the precipice of falling behind with the number of people we had before the layoffs. Now, the backlog grows regardless of how many extra hours anyone works.

I'm fucking tired. The past two weeks, I did minimal overtime because I've been so burnt out. I felt little relief, knowing that our pile of work is not going to shrink to a reasonable level anytime soon. It is draining my motivation.

I feel like my brain is processing as fast as sludge, which only contributes to the backlog to be honest. Most days, I just want to quit.

I feel fortunate and grateful to have my job, but I've been finding myself occasionally wishing I had been laid off instead.

2022: New, new, new

New job. New love. New home.

I moved to Seattle with Matt just over a year ago. It felt like the start of the next chapter of my life. I made a few new friends in Seattle, but I haven't really connected with them all that much.

I actually started to reconnect with a lot of friends from the Bay Area instead, after Matt essentially moved out of our apartment and in with his new boyfriend (with my encouragement). My Bay Area visits have been finding me missing my friends more every time I fly back to Seattle.

The end of 2021 brought me to the end of my time at my old job. I started off 2022 with a new underwriting job that gives me great benefits that I never imagined I would earn. I can now plan a little better for the future. It boggles my mind. I'm learning something completely different from my last job. So it's slow progress, but I'm doing decently well after two months. And my colleagues are all wonderful people who are super willing to help me. I'm so grateful to join such a collaborative and genuine team.

EDC 2021 in October was a new and old experience for me. I didn't go with Matt. We flew in and out of Vegas together and I stayed in his hotel room before and after EDC, but I did RV camping with Nick and Jamie's group. Matt met up with me once each night to check up on me though :) Camping with the new fam was fun. I barely got sleep, but it was nice not to deal with traffic after each night. I was usually not alone, and I appreciated everyone's company. EDC gave me new memories, new friends, and the start of a new love.

The love was gradual and unexpected. It was kinda ideal how it developed. I think I was in denial because I had fully believed I would be single for the rest of my life. I had made my peace with that belief. But this person just kinda made a home in my life. The start of 2022 then hit me in the head with the realization of what had happened right in front of my oblivious face haha. I was confused and uncertain. But after thinking and talking about it, I realized my feelings were genuine, and so were Mark's.

This love isn't like my past crushes. My feelings in the past were typically intense and thought-consuming. My feelings now are not that intense but definitely gentle and growing as we get to know each other better. There are no impossible hurdles or unrealistic expectations. We talk. Not perfectly, but we're willing to discuss things and learn how to navigate this relationship. And honestly, I had some worries about dating a guy because my limited experiences didn't really give me much hope about men. But so far, Mark has proven to be someone with values and needs that align with mine pretty well. We don't always get each other, but we both try to be understanding. I'm quite happy with him. Weird haha.

2022 is busy for me. In 2021, I had made 2022 plans for myself to get back into the swing of things and enjoy my singleness more. This year, I've been readjusting some plans to include Mark or to spend more time with him. We're gonna go to a few events or festivals together. I always wanted a rave bae haha. Then I can retire. Maybe haha.

The biggest change of plans happening in 2022 is that I'm no longer going to stay in Seattle when my lease ends. I had originally planned to stay in Seattle for at least three years. Now, because he lives in the Bay Area (Why the heck did it take me leaving the Bay to finally meet someone I connect with? Haha), I'm going to move back after less than one and a half years in Seattle. I like Seattle, but I miss the Bay vibes. Seattle gave me enough of the break that I needed from my family and the Bay. And now, I got a love back in the Bay, and I don't think I can do the long distance for too long.

I can't wait to move back to the Bay. 2022 has been an interesting year so far, and I wonder what else it has in store.

Was I lazy? Am I lazy?

I grew up believing I was just an extremely lazy person. Even though many friends and strangers told me I was smart and had so much potential, I never believed it because I was never proactive about my future. I watched many friends develop career goals and make moves to achieve those goals, and I am super proud all of of them. I wanted to aspire to be like them, but I just never acted. I didn't know how to find motivation or direction.

My mom frequently called me lazy because she would catch me during my breaks from my homework assignments. She called me lazy because I didn't do more in my free time. The irony of the previous statement is my mom didn't allow me to do extracurricular activities for most of my teen years; I always had to go home after school and not go outside unless it was to accompany her somewhere. So I stayed home, did homework, read books, listened to music, watched TV, and surfed the Internet. When I was feeling brave, I'd ask my mom if I could go to the movies, a birthday party, or a school play. I sometimes had to deal with her anger before she'd finally say yes, probably because she saw how much I wanted to go or how sad I looked.

It was only in my junior year of high school when one of my classes had an extra requirement to choose between joining our school's Model UN club or doing something else. I chose the MUN club and told my mom it was a requirement, and she begrudgingly allowed me to stay after school once a week so that I could attend the meetings and do research. And she had to let me stay on the days where we had mock trials or went to actual MUN conferences. In my senior year, I lied about having to continue being in the club as a requirement for class. Instead, I just joined the club because I wanted to and my friends were still a part of it. I had to lie so that I could do things after school at school.

Also, during my senior year, I was in our ASB elective class; so I was allowed to stay after school frequently to help prep for school events. The upside of my mom not being very involved in my education, aside from confirming that I had straight A's, was that I could choose my classes without her input. The decision to join ASB was intentional. I wanted to be involved in school and in the things that my friends were doing. (I think this is partially the reason why I have fond memories of my school years; school was the only place for me to connect with anyone.)

Looking back, I know I wasn't any lazier than the average teen was. If I wanted to do something school-related or otherwise, I did it, if I was allowed or lied my way into it. I'm not trying to blame my mom. I know she worried about me falling in with the wrong crowds if she let me do what I wanted, and she had a very narrow view of what success and security meant for a teenager. But because of her trying to control my life, I wasn't allowed to explore many options. I felt trapped into doing what I thought my mom wanted me to do (get good grades) while never actually finding a direction for my future. So I just didn't do anything when I was home.

Anyway, as an adult, I learned to acknowledge that I was not lazy, at least not always or not as frequently as my mom claimed. I was definitely directionless and apathetic, but I was likely dealing with undiagnosed depression as a teen. The thought of that possibility had passed through my brain several times ever since I had learned what depression was at age 13, but I always told myself there were people out there with worse problems; I didn't even know what my problem was. And I had friends who cut themselves. Obviously, compared to them, my problems weren't that bad. My suicidal ideation wasn't a problem because I never actively took steps to harm or kill myself. I just felt conflicting emotions; there was inner turmoil, apathy, longing, rage, and disconnectedness. The consistent thought was "If I wasn't alive, I wouldn't have to feel this anymore, and I wouldn't continue disappointing my family."

I didn't fully prepare for college because I didn't think I was going to be alive by the time I was 18. I did the minimum of applying for universities that didn't require an essay. "Why put in all that effort if I might not be alive to attend?" I didn't have active plans to end my life. I just didn't see a future with myself in it.

I'm well past my teens, but I only started to acknowledge my depression in my mid 20's. Therapy didn't happen until I was almost 29 and in a crisis. Anxiety, depression, PTSD. I got better. I am better now. I still struggle. I stopped going to therapy earlier this year because I moved out of state and my therapist isn't licensed outside of California. I haven't tried to find a new therapist yet because I don't want to jump into online therapy with a new person and therapy is so damn expensive. I've had brief moments of questioning how I'm going to survive life without therapy. I'm really glad they're brief. I'm still alive haha.

All right, I went on some tangents away from where this post started.

Recently, I have felt very lazy toward work. I mean I still do the work, but I don't want to do it. So I guess the better description would be "I feel unmotivated at work." But I categorize that under laziness out of habit. I talked to some coworkers about how I was feeling, and they said they were feeling the same way. They pointed out that I just switched to another team and had been training new hires, helping with documentation, kicking off a side project, and answering a steady stream of questions from various teams; it was okay to feel overworked and overwhelmed. And they called what I was feeling "burnout," which set off the alarms in my head. "Oh yeah, I'm experiencing burnout." I used to feel it every six months or so because it would go away after a short vacation. Now, it feels like I experience it all the time no matter if I take a day or a week off from work. Probably because I know, when I return to work, there's a pile of emails, questions, and issues to deal with.

So I was asking myself why I was calling myself lazy instead of saying I was dealing with stress and burnout. Partly, I compare myself with other people and see them pushing past their stress to get things done, while I feel like I don't do that. But I also realized, when I call myself lazy, I hear my mom's voice, saying "quá lười" (too lazy). I don't give myself the same emotional support I give my friends when they share similar feelings. I tell my friends they deserve to take breaks and what they do is enough or more than enough. I don't always feel the same way about my efforts because my job title isn't as great or high as my friends' job titles are, even if the stress may sometimes be on par.

I spend more energy believing I'm lazy than acknowledging when I'm putting in work. It's hard to break out of the habit of calling myself lazy, even while I am making an effort to get things done.

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The purpose of this whole thought dump was to say: I label my handling of stress, anxiety, and depression as laziness. And I've learned the voice in my head that calls me lazy actually belongs to my mom. I don't think anyone else in my entire life has ever seriously described me as lazy. Yet, that's the first descriptor I use for myself.

I probably should go back to therapy sometime to work through this. My therapy sessions in California left off on my dubious sense of motivation, agency, and planning. I've been unable to plan very far ahead because I still don't see the future with me in it. Not like I want to die. But I just can't actively see myself in the future. I don't know what I want. I'm so used to doing things with other people's goals in mind; I don't have any longterm goals other than to survive.

Tbh, moving out of California was probably the biggest decision I've ever made in my life, and I did it. Granted, I still kinda looked for my mom's approval before I did it (old habits die hard). Anyway, I think moving out of state definitely disqualifies me from being a lazy person haha. At the beginning of January, I suddenly made the decision to move with one of my closest friends; by the beginning of March, for the first time in my life, I was no longer a resident of California.

Cognitively, I know I'm not a lazy person, but I can't help but feel that I am one anyway. Despite all the effort I put into doing anything, I feel lazy. It's frustrating that I won't believe otherwise haha.

For Shiva

Date Written: 26.X.10


Dear Shiva,

Did I win the bet? :3 If I did, I get to say, "I told you so," and you owe me a lunch date. If not, I owe you a lunch date.

Just call me, yeah? Or email me. Or write me a letter. Get in touch with me however you want. I'll answer. You know I will.

If I did win, then you better let me say, "I told you so!" XP And we should totally party and celebrate :)

If I didn't win, well you can say, "I told you so," and we can have a friendly debate about the terms of this bet.

Deal:
By or on October 3, 2020, if I, Thuy, still don't hate you, Shiva, then I win, and I get to tell you, "I told you so!" and to be treated to a nice lunch with one lovely Shiva. If I do hate you by or on that date, then I owe you a lunch date.

I hope this is clear enough :O

I hope the Internet is still around; is it? And I hope you still read my blog too :) I hope I still update this blog :O

Anyway, I am most certain that I have won the bet. From the start, I had an advantage: You are just so.... I'm going to be cliche and say there are no words that could truly describe you. I hope you don't doubt that now. I hope I've managed to show you the truth in what I say and in what I've been saying (for hopefully ten years).

How could I hate you? Especially if you are honest with me. I wouldn't hate you for being honest. Never. I will only love and appreciate you for being who you are, a beautiful woman who has enriched my life and made it meaningful. You have truly opened my eyes, my mind, and my heart.


Love,
Thuy
aka Steel Cheeks
aka Chubby Kitty



P.S. Yes, I know I've written this letter as though I know I've already won from the beginning. I'm pretty sure I have. But no matter what happens, I hope this letter brings a happy smile to your face :) Please always cherish the memories, the good and the bad, that we have had together. Remember that we got through the toughest storms together, and we're still both ok.

P.P.S. Whether as a friend or more, I love you.

P.P.P.S. For all the pain I have caused you in years past, I am truly sorry. For all the pain you have caused me in years past, I've never held it against you. You were always forgiven. You've brought more light than darkness into my life. For that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart and the depths of my soul. You will always be one of the greatest gifts I've ever received in my life, even if I didn't deserve you. I love you, Soul Friend.

Still anxious and lonely in 2020

People have been saying that 2020 has been an apocalyptic year. Australian bushfires, COVID-19 pandemic, recession and stock market crash, Black Lives Matter, murder hornets, hurricanes, three of the largest US West Coast fires. Plus, we're hearing more about human rights violations and atrocities around the world (e.g. government responses to BLM, Uyghurs in China, Hong Kong protests and security law).

It's weird that we react like this stuff was only happening this year. Everything happening now is a consequence of everything happening before it.

Thinking about the world and the state that it's in, I can't help but think we were already and always in this situation. Being stuck at home with less to do just means it may be harder to distract ourselves from the world. Some folks are reinvigorated in their actions to promote some kind of change in response to what's happening now. Some people want everything to go back to the way it was before 2020, but doesn't that just mean the events of 2020 would repeat itself? Or maybe no matter what we do now, history will repeat itself anyway; so what's the point?

I think the point is that we at least tried to make things better. Change something, even if it's small, because we know something wasn't working before.

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The world makes me anxious. The news makes me anxious. My thoughts make me anxious. My anxiety has been manageable.

I'm still talking to my therapist. Thank all of the intelligent thinkers and inventors who paved the way for video conferencing. Thank humanity for developing psychotherapy to help itself.

I won't lie though. Sometimes, therapy makes me anxious too. Like I learn or discover things about myself that I thought I already knew or had already ruled out, and they just hit me harder than I would have expected; and I just feel frozen. How do I face these discoveries? How do I address them? How did I miss them? How did I overlook them? How did I misinterpret them? It's a spiraling path of thought.

At this time, I'm facing my loneliness again. It's something I have acknowledged before and proactively worked at. Learning how to be okay by myself and not seeking others to distract myself from loneliness. But now, it seems I've gone to the far end of passively isolating myself (again). I still talk to my friends through group chats, but that's limited in itself. And when I have difficult moments that I struggle through, I reach out to them. But not always. Do I not trust my friends enough to reach out to them every time I'm struggling? I know I trust my friends. I guess maybe I worry that my friends will get tired of having to help me, even though I know through experience that they will always find a way to help me and to be there to support me. And that's all I ever really ask of them. Maybe internally, I'm hoping for someone to magically take away the erratic thoughts and feelings, even though I know I'm the only one who can make a difference in my actual mind. My friends can only do so much from where they are; they can't go into my head and change anything. So maybe it's not an issue of trust; maybe it's my unrealistic expectations. I know the limits of what my friends can do for me, but I still want more because I'm not sure I can do enough for myself.

I still don't trust myself. I don't believe in my own strength. Or I do believe; it's just not a consistent belief. I forget what I'm capable of. I've brought myself out of dark places. I've risen up from rock bottom multiple times. Even if it felt temporary, I've been capable and strong enough.

A moment of weakness is really a moment of strength because you fight for the next moment. If you can look back on that difficult moment, that means you had the strength to make it to the next moment.

I tell my friends that because I truly believe it for them. I want to believe it for myself.

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I still have moments where the symptoms of anxiety suddenly appear out of nowhere. But I know they're not out of nowhere. I have to consciously focus on the triggers and acknowledge they just happen; don't let my brain believe in any non sequitur thoughts. Those long moments of random fireworks shooting in September don't mean anything, except people celebrating Labor Day; I'm not in any moment other than that; I'm not having a panic attack during the EDC fireworks. The sudden icy cold feeling on my skin is just my body sweating in reaction to something that I'm not consciously aware of yet; I'm not disappearing from reality. My current experiences of anxiety are just a lot of talking myself down from these intense and irrational what-if's.

I miss being able to listen to music and not worrying about if the music will trigger something. I have to actively choose the difficult music to listen to and walk myself through the music. Last year, I had to stop listening to a lot of my favorite music (Rezz, Kaskade, Sasha Sloan) because they kept triggering weird fears and memories of trips. But I'm back to listening to most of my favorite artists again. I haven't listened to Rezz's EDC 2019 set yet though. That's still the one that I'm unsure of because my panic attack started during that set. But I was able to listen to her Room Service set back in April. I meant to listen to the EDC set soon after, but I kinda have been avoiding it. Need to be brave. Sometimes, listening to a random artist still triggers some fear (reality suddenly feels unreal). My initial reaction is always to turn the music off, but I'm trying to get myself to just sit in the discomfort a bit and remind myself that it's just music. Reality isn't changing; my anxiety is affecting my perception of reality; it is what it is; just let it be.

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2020 has been a year. Not the worst for myself; 2019 was the terrifying one for me, but 2020 has given me some things to think about. It has amplified the loneliness that I thought I was managing okay. How do I address the loneliness without simply ignoring it or distracting myself from it? I'm still trying to figure that out. My anxiety is better than it was a year ago, but it's still there. I question why it's still there. Why can't I let it go? Why do I feel like I'm holding onto my anxiety?

Maybe I need to go skydiving and face my mortality again haha.

Thoughts on recent state violence (BLM)

My head is all over the place; I don't know how to organize my thoughts or even where to share them. When I try to engage strangers in discussion on public Facebook posts, no one responds to me. Or if they do, they stop after my first or second rebuttal. I'm tired of that shutdown in communication. I'm honestly not trying to debate anyone on the facts of what's happening during the protests because none of us are participants of the protests being discussed; and this kind of discussion just becomes a murky pool of he-said-she-said since we don't trust each other's sources. I'm trying to reason with people on why Black Lives Matter is legitimate and worthwhile, and their arguments essentially boil down to something like "Your methods (arson, looting) suck, so your message (BLM) sucks. The feds should beat and arrest all of you."

----

We can agree a bad actor is not a protestor. If the average person is able to logically separate bad actors from peaceful protestors, then why can't the police and federal agents do that as well? It seems some people are claiming that violent force must be used in response to the bad actors hiding amongst the protesters. Okay...

If the officers and agents know who the bad actors are, then they should go after the specific bad actors in a lawful manner; there is no need to go after the peaceful protestors who haven't committed any crimes. Picking nearby people off the street, detaining them for hours, and then releasing them without any charges kinda tells me they don't know who they're looking for and are just grabbing anybody off the street.

If they don't know who the specific bad actors are, then why are they going after anyone at all, especially people who have been shown to be peacefully protesting or just recording the events? Why are tear gas, batons, and kinetic impact projectiles being used against protestors if someone else, the bad actor, is causing damage or harm? If someone committed arson in any other situation and you didn't see who started it, you don't just turn to the person closest to you and start beating them into submission because you don't know if they did anything.

I thought officers and agents were supposed to be trained on how to catch suspects with the least amount of harm caused to the general public. This was what I was taught through the media. If you have a suspect running away from you in a crowd, you don't shoot into the crowd just to get that suspect, unless you think everyone is a suspect and therefore is subject to the same level of force, despite not knowing anyone's level of involvement in any alleged crime. And just in case you weren't sure, while officers and agents are busy rounding up the peaceful protestors instead of the bad actors, the bad actors will continue to cause damage and harm.

I think it's just strange to claim that the violence of some people justifies state violence against all people. It seems like a fear tactic and a diversion tactic meant to deter people from protesting at all and to keep people's focus off of the BLM message of the protests and more on the general state response to the protests, the irony of which is that the protests are against law enforcement's use of excessive force against the Black community.

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Since it is well-documented in American history, civil disobedience (à la MLK, John Lewis, Rosa Parks, and many others) is a tried and true method of protest for minorities.

Acts of civil disobedience are disruptive and illegal; the purpose is to break laws to draw attention to injustice. Unfortunately, this also draws in the bad actors who are not necessarily in support of the cause (the 1960's non-violent protests also had bad actors employed by the government and others). So the state response is expected. The question is: Is the state violence against the civil disobedience justified? You can't say that the recent state violence is only in response to the street violence occurring during the protests. If that were the case, peaceful protestors and observers wouldn't be targeted.

And if the state violence against civil disobedience is technically justified under current law, I definitely think that needs to be changed. How does it make sense for the government or anyone to punish everyone for the actions of the few that they don't know how to catch? And you can't turn this logic around on our response to police brutality with "Why punish all police officers for the actions of a few bad officers?" We're not seeking to punish all officers. We're seeking to punish the ones who've caused harm and murdered people. We're seeking to change the system that allows police officers to commit crime and murder with impunity and allows their mistakes or ill intent to be overlooked just because they have a badge.

If we are to have law enforcement at all, we need to have a system that we can trust to punish criminals fairly and equally, regardless of their skin color, wealth, or job title.

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I needed a break from my emotions and from the ridiculous defenses of indiscriminate state violence. So I read about civil disobedience from the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy: https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/civil-disobedience/. It's an interesting but somewhat long read. It's a summary of philosophical perspectives; what else can you expect?

Here's a paragraph that underscores my understanding of and reaction to "If people just follow the law, then they won't have any problems" 🙄:

"On the assumption that people have a pro tanto obligation to follow the law (or at least those laws that are not excessively unjust), it follows that people then have a pro tanto obligation to use the proper legal channels of political participation before resorting to illegal methods. On this view, civil disobedience can be justified only when employed as a last resort. But since causes defended by a minority are often those most opposed by persons in power, legal channels may be less than wholly effective. Moreover, it is unclear when a person could claim to have reached the situation of last resort; she could continue to use the same tired legal methods without end. To ward off such challenges, Rawls suggests that, if past actions have shown the majority to be immovable or apathetic, then further attempts may reasonably be thought fruitless and one may be confident one's civil disobedience is a last resort."

----

2020 has been an intense and confusing and terrifying and edifying year so far. COVID-19 and Black Lives Matter are the dominating concerns on my mind. What will become of the world as we move forward with the second half of the year? Will COVID deaths rise exponentially? The US is nearly at 150k deaths now. Hadn't someone predicted 200k deaths by the end of summer or something? We're not far off. How much more violence will befall the Black community before we acknowledge our roles in the harm to their community and hold ourselves accountable for the damage done?

Will we all learn to work together and to put the needs of others ahead of our own? Do we all really believe in the greater good, or do we just say we do so that everyone else thinks we're good people? Only our actions will reveal our true natures, right?

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One last thing: Don't lose focus. Black lives still matter.

2019 has been a challenging year

Well, I accidentally deleted my original draft for this post. That sucks.

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2019 started off well enough. I went to a couple of events and hung out with friends. I went to Gameboi in February. To be honest though, I don't really remember the beginning of this year all that well. My focus this year was on my anxiety, my fears, my health, and my relationships.

2019 shoved me to the ground and kicked me to the point that I didn't know if I was going to survive. My mind has been in dark places before, but this year found me in some of the darkest and craziest. I felt like I was losing my mind and myself. I didn't know if I would ever find my way back to normalcy. Everything felt like an endless maze that kept shifting every time I thought I was on the right track.

I used to want to escape from real life. The party life used to help me do that. Now, I don't want to escape anymore. I want to be present and to face life, but my mind keeps trying to go off into some other place I don't want to be. It happens when I expect it to; it happens when I don't expect it to. It has been a struggle. I've cried, I've hid, I've prayed, and I've frozen in fear. I've hated myself for the choices I made that led me to this point of my life.

Now, I don't hate myself. I still cry. I still pray. I try my best not to freeze when I'm scared. I'm practicing having compassion for myself. Not always successful, but I'm not so hard on myself for continuing to struggle with my thoughts and feelings. I'm not as afraid of being alone. I still struggle to fall asleep, but it's getting a little easier to fall asleep every night. I have some safety measures in place in case I start to panic, but I haven't had a strong need to use any of them in a while. It's just nice to know they're there.

I'm grateful for my friends and coworkers who've become good friends. They've given me their time, warmth, and lessons. I'm blessed to know I have their support in my darkest moments. Who knows if and how I would have survived this year without these thoughtful and caring people (and therapy)?

Therapy has opened my eyes to a lot of the issues and obsessions I've had in my life. I've grown so accustomed to them that I didn't even realize they were problems. Or if I did realize, I kinda just let myself forget about them until they built up into an uncontrollable mess that got exacerbated by my partying ways.

Talking things out with my therapist and my friends has helped a lot. Steady pressure relief. It's nice. My sense of hope has returned. I'm trying to hold on to it and do things to help it grow. I'm trying to get myself to go out a little more again. For a while, I couldn't watch movies because of my overactive imagination. I've gone to see Last Christmas, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, and Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker. Funny thing is the movie about Mr. Rogers probably freaked me out the most because of its realistic nature and a dream sequence it has; too reminiscent of some experiences for me.

Anyway, 2019 has led me down a foreign yet familiar path. I've had to deal with emotions and things I can't really explain, but I'm fortunate to have friends, who don't fully understand what's going on, stand beside me while I figure myself out and make changes to improve my situation. I'm relearning lessons and learning new lessons; hopefully, this time, I really keep these lessons with me and don't make the same mistakes in the future; and if I do, I hope I'm developing the strength to keep pushing myself to do better and not to feel sorry for myself.

I'm planning for a future that was always blurry to me. It still is blurry, but I'm hoping it gets clearer.

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I'm going into 2020 with some hope and plenty of friends. Hoping I'll turn hindsight into foresight. Hope into action haha.

I don't have any set plans yet. But I want to make 2020 a good year. I don't want to fuck things up again. I don't want to scare the people who care about me. I want to make better decisions. I want to take smarter risks and to take better care of myself.

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I wanted to go into more detail about this year, but accidentally deleting the draft just made me realize I don't need to focus on all of the details. I just want to focus on the journey and the progress of how I'm feeling.

Today, I feel better. And I know I can feel even better in the future. I just gotta keep putting in the effort.

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Thank you, friends, for holding my hand, holding me, and loving me when I couldn't do anything for myself. Thank you for all the goodness and strength you've shared with me. Thank you for reflecting all my goodness and strength that I couldn't see on my own.

Struggles: Depression, Anxiety, Panic. Solution: Self-care, Connection, Trust

A reminder to myself: Add good into the world, even if you don't think good will come out of it.

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I have dealt with depression since I was a teenager. Undiagnosed until recently. I used to tell myself that I wasn’t depressed because someone else definitely has it way worse. But on some level, I knew. I have had days where I just could not get out of bed and I let life pass me by. I didn’t reach out to anyone, even when I couldn’t bare to be alone.

I felt apathetic toward myself. I didn't want to try at anything. If I did try and succeed at something, I didn't think I deserved it. I didn't know how to use my little successes to propel me forward. I just did enough to get through each day. I didn't know how to look forward to the future. I was in this depressive murk for years, and I became so used to it. I didn't know what life looked like outside of this murky lens.

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Looking back, I know I've always been an anxious person. I just didn't know that I was dealing with anxiety. I thought my worries and fears were normal. Who wouldn't be afraid of someone breaking into their home? Who wouldn't be worried about the car that has been trailing behind them for several blocks? Who wouldn't be scared of the next mass shooting?

For me, my worries and fears led to some obsessive and compulsive behaviors. Whenever I go on vacation or to a show or just do something new, I always worry that something terrible or catastrophic will happen, especially to my family, while I'm out having fun. Maybe as a punishment for having too much fun. When I start worrying about something like this, I start praying internally. I repeat the prayer until it feels right, until I think I mean it enough.

I've been able to get through life, even with all these thoughts crowding in. I've been able to ignore the thoughts on most days. But they always come back when I'm alone. The overthinker in me rules much of my life. I've managed to pass myself off as a very laidback person, but I'm such an intense overthinker on the inside.

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I've had several panic attacks over the past two years. Most of them were triggered by my own irresponsible and reckless decisions (read: alcohol and drugs like LSD). I had been warned, but I thought I could handle the consequences of my decisions. I thought, because I had made so much progress on my self-improvement, I could handle some recklessness. And I was okay for a while. But I went overboard or just overestimated my capabilities, and now I'm facing the consequences.

I had a couple of panic attacks in March, April, and June 2017 and near-attacks afterward. I think one of these attacks was triggered by excessive sugar intake. I struggled for a couple of months to find normalcy. I found it. Then I had another panic attack in October 2017 after a show; this was triggered by excessive amounts of caffeine. Again, I struggled for normalcy. My next major panic attack occurred in January 2018. It was after work and after too much THC.

Because of the 2018 panic attack, I decided to cut back on just about everything. I went through the rest of the year feeling better. Some anxiety, but no panic attacks. I felt really good and proud of myself.

2019 started off really well. I was going out and making plans. Then I overestimated myself again. I triggered another panic attack in April because of THC. It wasn't the worst. My friends were there to support me and help me stay grounded. A month later, my stupid decisions caused another panic attack while I was at EDC day two. First and last time trying coke, last time taking MDMA. This was probably the worst panic attack I had ever had. It still affects me now. I've had multiple actual and near panic attacks since May. Sometimes multiple within the same day. I can't listen to much EDM anymore. Certain lighting, certain sounds/music, certain physical sensations (wind), just anything that reminded me of the circumstances during my attack at EDC; it all would trigger high anxiety or panic attacks. My heart races, my muscles tense, I sweat, my skin tingles uncomfortably, my mind races through all these terrifying what-ifs about reality, I feel myself literally coming apart, and everything feels unreal and disconnected. I honestly didn't know how I was getting through these attacks. I just know I've gotten through them. I also know I scare myself about having another panic attack. Panicking about panic (and losing reality), ridiculous but real, terrifying.

I haven't been getting enough sleep because I'm too anxious to fall asleep. I have to leave YouTube videos playing for me to fall asleep. I wake up a lot during the night. My room is too hot at night, partially because of me leaving my laptop on all night. Also because I close my bedroom window. I've been overly sensitive to external stimuli for the past two months. It's ridiculous, but I hyper-focus on unfamiliar sounds and movements, especially when I'm exhausted. So I'm just trying to reduce my triggers.

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I started being honest with my friends about my depression years ago; recently, I started being honest about my battle with anxiety and panic attacks. I somehow managed to develop strong relationship with many extremely supportive friends. We've learned how to communicate and to listen. Even many of my acquaintances have listened to me talk about my struggles and my triumphs and shared their own stories. I have a community I can rely on. This community has helped me find my strength time and time again. When I forget my strength, my successes, and the good I've tried to add into the world, these loving people remind me. When I don't believe in any of it, they believe for me and encourage me to believe in all of it.

I started seeing a psychotherapist/psychiatrist at the beginning of July. I don't know if it's helping me, but I don't think it's hurting me. The doctor has helped me unearth some baggage I didn't realize I had, or rather baggage that I thought I had already dealt with. He has explained some therapeutic techniques to practice in my everyday life; they're meant to help me calm and retrain my brain to better handle anxiety and panic attacks. He has also suggested that I start taking an antidepressant. I'm hesitant. I worry about side effects, dependency, and effectiveness. I know medication can help some people. I know it could help me, but it scares me. I also just want to challenge myself to find my strength again and to trust and believe in myself. I told my doctor just as much. I want to get better on my own. I've been able to do it the previous times. I just fucked myself up each time by doing drugs again. This time, I really mean it. I won't touch any of it. The risk of anxiety and panic attacks is too high, and I don't want to risk losing myself completely. Of course, if it gets to a point where I feel like I can't do it on my own, then I'll consider medication.

I've decided to abstain indefinitely, likely permanently, from drugs and alcohol. I used these things to escape from my life and to help me be more sociable. They were my crutches. But now, I want to be present in my life. I want to be here to be able to support and help all of the wonderful people in my life. Despite my desire to stay here in this reality, my mind seems to take me away from the present whenever I start panicking. I'm fighting hard to stay. Plus, even drinking alcohol triggers anxiety now. So it's just good overall for me to abstain.
-It's been a little difficult. Going out with friends is slightly challenging because I end up being the only sober person. I'm okay with being DD. But it's challenging to socialize with inebriated people. I'm too in my head. There's also an irrational part of me that's worried that if I'm surrounded by inebriated people, I'll somehow absorb their inebriation. Or someone will get something into my system because they think I should loosen up (some have told me as much, maybe jokingly, but it still worries me). These anxious thoughts would trigger panic attacks too.
-This also means that I'm foregoing future shows and festivals (no lie; a lot of people go to these events to get fucked up). I've been selling whatever tickets I bought earlier this year. I've lost a lot of money. Alaska got $300 out of me not flying to Seattle this past weekend for a festival, and two people got some cheap tickets to the festival. I still have many tickets left to sell. I'm holding on to a pair of tickets for deadmau5 in October though; my brother is supposed to go to that with me. We've never been to a festival or EDM show together. So I'm hoping that I'll get myself into a good mental space by then; I want us to share an experience. But if I don't feel ready, I won't push myself.
-This past weekend, instead of going to the festival, I went with a group of friends to Lake Tahoe. I was sober the whole weekend. Everyone else drank or did other things. It worried me, but I didn't want to ruin anyone else's fun. So everyone did their own thing. Somehow, I managed to not have any panic attacks. If I thought my anxiety was starting to increase, I would focus on my breathing and remind myself that reality was still here and I was with friends, good people who will help me if I need it. This vacation actually felt like it helped me reset my brain a bit. It was nice. Of course, coming back home, my anxiety has kinda started up again, but I think it's more manageable now. Though, I did almost trigger another panic attack because I was thinking about my panic attacks on the drive home from work haha. Still a work in progress. Anyway, after this weekend, I'm probably gonna make sure I hang out in more sober settings.

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If I could choose, I would rather deal with depression than anxiety. Apathy is easier than constant fear. Listlessness is easier than overthinking. But I don't have a choice. I just have to deal.

I'm grateful for the love and support that I'm getting from my friends, especially since they're all dealing with their own lives. I'm lucky to have these folks in my life. I hope I can repay them just as well in my support of them.

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I started writing this because I needed to get some thoughts out. Maybe as a sort of confession/clearing of conscience. Now, I don't really know what to make of this.

I know I need help. I've reached out for help. I've reached out to friends and a professional. Now, I'm learning and relearning how to help myself and how to trust myself/others. It's been hard and daunting most days. Some days are easier to get through; other days, each step feels impossible. I feel like I'm making progress, but I have setbacks. The setbacks feel so monumental, but I'm trying to hold on to hope that I will feel and do better. I'm trying to add more realistic positivity and positive realism into my life.

Thank goodness for YouTube (Michelle Khare, Safiya Nygaard, Ladylike, Pero Like, The Try Guys. Basically all the BuzzFeed-related videos. Also, Good Mythical Morning.). I've binged on so many videos over the past two months; they've helped keep me distracted and also given me food for thought in regard to my own challenges.

Making better decisions for myself is hard because it requires me to really think. I'm trying to find a balance, so that I don't overthink. Hopefully, I can get this right.

Ending 2018; Starting 2019

2018 went by so fast. I feel like I only just started 2018 a couple of months ago, but a lot has happened this year.

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Usually, around this time of year, I like to look back on the events of the current year and make plans for the next, occasionally waxing poetic about changes. This time is no different haha.

2018 was a personally fulfilling year. I did things I wanted to do, whether on the spur of the moment or as part of a planned bucket list activity.
+Donated peripheral blood stem cells (Feb)
+Started my Invisalign adjustments (Mar)
+Attended Seven Lions’ Chronicles Chapter 1 in Seattle (May)
+Left a $100 tip on a cheaper meal (May)
+Attended my 10-year high school reunion (Jun)
+Donated my hair after growing it out for nearly 3 years (Aug)
+Visited Colorado and attended Illenium’s show at Red Rocks (Aug)
+Walked through a corn maze (Sep)
+Went skydiving (Nov)
+Went axe-throwing (Nov)

I spent a lot of money (14+ shows, Audiotistic, 2 Dreamstates, and EDC LV) because I decided to forego a reasonable budget. But because of all these fun adventures, all my lovely friends, and some calculated personal changes, I was able to get myself into a better mental space. The splurging was a way for me to take a break from reality and to reward myself for doing better.

2017 and the beginning of 2018 had me struggling through a lot of depressive and anxiety-ridden episodes; I sometimes wondered if I would make it to the end of the year. However, as this year progressed, I gradually turned my thoughts and worries around; I'm not super peppy or overly optimistic, but I feel more level-headed in my mental/emotional approach to my fears and worries. I definitely still have occasional setbacks, but they don't feel as oh-no-it's-the-end-of-the-world as they did at the beginning of 2018. The things that I can't seem to change, I've learned to accept; I'm always going to be an over-thinker, but consistently recognizing that what I think doesn't necessarily reflect reality has helped me maintain a grip on my sanity and perspective. Woo, progress!

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I had planned to quit my job on my birthday, but I decided to stay after my employer offered to increase my pay a bit and move me to another team. I'm grateful to still have a job during the holidays. I'm still helping out my old team because of an abnormally large amount of work that came in; so I haven't really learned anything for my new team. To be honest, I haven't really felt motivated to learn new workflows. And the reasons that made me want to leave in the first place are still there. I'm still putting out the best work I can and helping the team as much as I can, but I find myself feeling extremely apathetic about the job on most days.

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Recently, I had developed a minor crush on a guy. It's been an interesting experience. We're getting to know each other better. We're friends. We've kissed.

At first, I didn't know what it meant because we didn't really talk about it. We're friends, but we're physically and intellectually attracted to each other; overall, this is the most attracted I've felt toward any guy in my life. I wasn't sure if the emotional attraction was or would ever be there. I said as much; he concurred.

In my weird mistrust of people's words, I thought he was playing games and really could be interested in a romantic relationship. It worried me because I don't like the imbalance of feelings in any relationship. So I worried myself, wondering, "Could I be emotionally attracted to him? Emotionally attracted to a man? If I could, what would be so bad about that?" Other people's opinions... I think my mom would feel relief, which bothers me because of the I-told-you-you're-not-really-gay aspect of it. I'm also uncertain of how my queer friends would take it. Hopefully not bad because I've always said I wanted to be open to the possibility of being emotionally attracted to and falling in love with a man. And I am open to it. I came to that conclusion after some major self-reflection.

I let him know what I was thinking. He said we can just be friends. (What he says is what he means, which I'm learning to trust and take at face value. Typically, some guys, who said they only wanted friendship, were really hoping for more, which put a weird strain on our friendships.) I was disappointed by his response but not as much as I thought I would be. Probably because of the lack of emotional connection haha; he's not a very emotional person, whereas I am; he's more of a let-it-go person, whereas I'm not. So it works out. I'm over it now.

We're still friends. We're still physically attracted to each other. We've set our boundaries.

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I'm going to ring in the new year at Kaskade's show in SF with Matt and his new boyfriend, Khai. I don't think any of our other close friends will be there; they're either keeping it low-key or going to another NYE event. This will be a different experience. I've always gone to NYE events with people who were there with me. I know Matt and Khai will be there, but I don't know if it will be quite the same with my third-wheel status haha. I know I'll have fun no matter what though; so it doesn't really matter.

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I don’t have many plans for 2019 yet, and the few I have are tentative as always. I’m also gonna set another EDM ticket budget, and I won't scrap it this time.

Shows and Festivals:
+Wobbleland - SF
+Gryffin - SF
+Excision - SF
+EDC LV of course

Other:
+Finish my Invisalign adjustments sometime in March
+Bucket list: Go to a range and shoot something. (I've put this off for so long.)
+Bucket list: Walk across the Golden Gate Bridge. (I've also put this off for too long.)
+LASIK
-I bought a camping package for Electric Forest 2019; however, I’m going to sell it to put that money toward the LASIK and/or family instead. (The brother is out of a job; so I feel weird trying to plan multiple expensive vacations while he's struggling.)
+Attend a different, cheaper, and closer music festival instead
+Skydive again, hopefully without glasses this time
+New tattoo
+Camping with friends
+Visit at least one new place; haven't decided where yet

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I'm always thinking about change. About how I really want it, about how I strongly want to avoid it, about how it's necessary for life.

But at this point, I don't know what changes I want to make. I think the best I can do are the physical changes (i.e. Invisalign, LASIK, wardrobe). The mental changes are harder because I don't know what needs to improve. My self-image is better than ever; not great, but better than it has been.

I think getting a new job will probably become a priority for this year. I've been on my team for 3.5 years now, and I don't feel much like a valued employee. I mean I am still here and got a small pay raise, but watching most of my coworkers get laid off and be replaced by new hires through a different agency left a terrible taste in my mouth. And the coworkers that are still around are slowly getting jobs elsewhere and leaving. I don't want to be the last one here. I don't want to lose that sense of family that we had all built together. But it's happening. I feel like we're all just hanging on to the last bit of family we have on this project until we can find a new workplace to call home.

Anyway, change is always happening, whether we're aware of it. I guess I just need to take charge of the changes in my life as much as I can.

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2018 has been a good and weird year. Not my favorite, but it was an enjoyable learning experience.

A History of My Hair

I had various, shorter hairstyles chosen by my mom for most of my childhood and adolescence. I was frequently mistaken for a boy and occasionally bullied for it, which made me feel really insecure at times. But I dealt with it somehow and I never once thought I should grow out my hair to make things easier.

When I was a junior in high school, I decided to let my hair grow to my shoulders, which felt very strange. I just wanted to see what it would look like; would I actually look unattractive? My mom used to tell me that I would, which is why she always had me have short hair. I thought I looked all right.

I decided to cut my hair short again my senior year of high school because longer hair required too much effort and I was lazy haha. Back to normal. Ish.

During my freshman year of college, I decided to get my first “radical” hairstyle, a faux hawk. I wanted to explore something new. My mom freaked out; we argued. I kept the faux hawk for a couple of months. I grew it out because I again got lazy with maintenance. It required product and at least twenty minutes to style every day. That was a lot of time and effort I didn’t want to expend anymore.

At that point, I also just didn’t feel like getting my monthly haircut. And that feeling lasted for two and a half years. Really, after a year, I decided I wanted to grow my hair long enough to donate. During the winter of my senior year of college, I donated my hair to Pantene’s Beautiful Lengths for the first time. :)

I tried another, slightly longer faux hawk this time. Again, my mom and I argued. She was upset that I looked “like a man.” She threatened to shave my head as punishment. I told her to do it because I would be happy to do it. She had no response for that.

I suppose I should also add that I had been out to my mom since senior year of high school. My coming out to her was not a positive experience, and we haven’t even attempted to broach the subject since. Anyway, my styling choices just aggravated her discomfort with my sexuality. She was freaking out that I was “flaunting my lifestyle to the world”; not her words, but I knew what she meant. I wasn’t; I just wanted to do something different with my hair. I was not trying to be gayer haha.

The tension between my mom and me increased exponentially because of this. So I mellowed out with the hair to ease the tension. A small concession just to make life bearable.

Fast forward to over a year later. I got my hair buzzed two weeks after I moved out of my mom’s house in 2013. I wore a beanie every time I saw my parents for a couple of months haha. And then I continued to let my hair grow for a year and a half. Then I donated it again in December 2014. I decided to keep a simple style, reminiscent of my adolescence.

Then for half of 2015, I did variations of a fade and slick back combo. I truly enjoyed the look. But you know what happened; laziness kicked in. All that product, meh.

So I decided to buzz my hair again. And I actually decided I would try to grow it out for three years and then donate it once more. I wanted to see if I would have the patience to wait for my hair to reach my hips.

I’m less than two months shy of exactly three years, but my hair reaches my hips. I was going to wait until October to cut and donate my hair. However, my hair is annoying me, and I want to have short hair while it’s still hot out.

This upcoming weekend, I’m going to cut and donate my hair. I would do it sooner, but I feel like I should see my parents first and give them a head’s up, so they won’t be shocked the next time they see me. I can already hear my mom flipping out. But hey, at least this time, I’m giving her some warning. :P

I can’t wait to feel the weight literally be removed from my head haha.

As for the style, I might go for a pixie cut. No idea yet. Might decide on the spot. I would buzz my hair, but I think I'll wait for another time. I'm also not sure when I'll start growing out my hair to donate again.

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I'm glad I grew up and matured. I don't care if people mistake me for a man or judge me for it anymore. So I'm willing to try different hairstyles.

I still kinda hide some of my style decisions from my parents. Not because I'm ashamed or guilty. More because I just don't feel like arguing with them every time I see them. They won't change their minds, and I'm not going to change mine. We're going to argue about my choices. I don't want to not do what I want to do just to avoid arguing. I only see them once a week. So I should do what I feel comfortable doing, especially when I'm the one living with myself. But I'll do my best to avoid conflict with my parents because it's not worth my time when it's not constructive.

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I legally have been an adult for almost a decade. Technically, I’ve had long hair for more than half of my adult life. Weird.

After all these years, I still don’t know how to do anything with long hair other than put it in a ponytail haha.

What not to say to a friend experiencing a mental health problem

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I don't necessarily think all of these are bad, per se, but when, how, and why we say them is crucial to the conversation.

If our friends aren't in the right mindset, then it's not a good time to say anything. It's good to just listen and pay attention for any warning signs. If we waste our time on unsolicited advice, we might miss some important signs. When our friends are in a better headspace and are more receptive to feedback, then we have an opportunity to add our two cents. Just remember it's our two cents, not fact.

Our word choice and body language are very important because it shows our intentions and our understanding of our friends' situations. Our demeanor shows them if we're listening or dismissive. What they think we're thinking or doing determines how much more they'll reveal to us and how much our words will sink in.

Our true intentions with our words will determine if we help or hurt our friends. Speaking out of frustration will never be helpful. Frustration is there because we want to help but we can't. We can't control our friends. We see the solution, but they don't. Or they do, but they won't follow through. We can't make them.

Speaking through encouragement (positive reinforcement) is slow and arduous, but I think it's the most helpful in most situations. It's definitely a test of our patience. But hey, we're only dealing with the problem for this moment; our friends have to deal with it almost every day alone. Tbh, if we're that frustrated with our friends, imagine how frustrated they are with themselves.

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Back to the link:

Therapists and counselors may try to get us to realize these things on our own. But there's a difference between a person who's trained to help us come to our own conclusions and a person who's just putting in their two cents on what they think our problem is.

One has built our trust, reminds us that they're coming from a place of understanding, and encourages us to take our next steps. The other doesn't necessarily make that same effort because it seems unnecessary when the message is coming from a friend. And this is why a therapist is a therapist, not a friend.

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Mental health problems suck. Sometimes, our brains know one thing, but they think the opposite; and we're so damn aware of this disconnect. Being bluntly reminded of how disconnected our brains are is irritating. "You just need to do this (i.e. take care of yourself, exercise, eat better, stop overthinking), and you won't have those problems anymore." Sometimes, it is that simple; but fun fact: It's not always that simple.

I get frustrated hearing things like that because I know it could be that simple but I don't let it be. I definitely don't feel encouraged when people say things like that to me. If anything, there's some irrational part of me that wants to do the opposite of what they say just to spite them. Or is it to spite myself? Because I fail at something that's so easy for others, I deserve to fail harder and hurt myself more. Irrational.

It's funny though. I've had conversations with friends about my issues and baggage. They offer advice. Sometimes, I ignore it. Other times, I listen. But I never take their advice immediately. It has to sit and simmer. Time has to pass before I put their advice into action. Although, if my friends bring it up again too soon, I have to let it simmer longer.

I like it when my friends don't give me direct advice. Instead, they offer suggestions. Suggestions don't have to simmer as long as advice does.