Scattered

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Much has not changed in the last few days. I am still greatly exhausted, and yet sleep continues to evade me. I still have just two more finals left. Both of them are online in Blackboard, and should be relatively easy and then I will officially be done for this semester.

 

…. And I just realized I have to go to the campus tomorrow to do my paperwork for Financial aid. Crap. I forgot, forgot, and forgot. Darn it. Well, okay then. I should do the online stuff before I forget as well. Shoot.

See? I need sleep. My brain is so scattered and all over the place while my body is dragging along. This upcoming semester is definitely going to be a challenge. I have three classes that will be finished in just seven weeks. That is less than two months. I will have to really buckle down this summer if I want to get the same kind of scores I did this past semester.

I’m so tired. 

         I saw my psychiatrist for the first time in three months, and he said he was surprised. Surprised how such a stressful environment such as going to school full time, seemed to actually be helping, and dramatically so. He told me to call him when I needed a refill on my anxiety medication, and sent me on my way to see him in four months.

I need sleep.

         I began writing this post since I felt I needed to reach out and connect with people. I feel like I have not been able to really do that, lately. Once again, my brain is scattered in the wind.

         There are some ideas in my head for a few projects, but I will need to work on them, and flesh them out first before I really talk on the topic.

         I am off to do some paperwork. Yay.

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I took this a couple weeks ago at the Flower and Garden Festival in Epcot.

Delirious Exhaustion

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I have been exhausted lately, and by lately, I mean the last two weeks. I already do not have much a sleep cycle, so I am quite used to not being able to sleep often. I have slept maybe no more than three hours every couple of days for the last fourteen days. My body is worn out and ragged. Whenever I tell my professors why I look like death warmed over they predictably blame finals season. While yes, finals, and school in general, are to blame, it is mostly due to outside influences in combination with school.

We are in the home stretch, and marathoning homework on Sundays because I am procrastinator of the highest order, will soon be over. The rest of my energy through the week is taken up by our two new puppies, my younger sister, and studying Korean.

That is going well by the way. Well enough for not studying as much as I would expect of myself normally. I have been informed that I have been accidentally responding in either Korean (written and spoken), or using Korean gesticulations. Whoops. Sometimes it is as simple as a 네~ (yes), or 응 (another version of acknowledgement). I have been caught accidentally sending of whole sentences, or… cursing out fellow students that have been causing me some frustration since the beginning of the semester. My professor luckily found it entertaining.

I actually based my business applications end of term project on learning Korean. Since I have been living and breathing the Korean language, it was relatively easy to push out all that easy content (it was a simple power point). The hard part was the narration I had to record. That… took close to five hours. I had to do it again, and again. If I made a simple mistake, I had to start over from the beginning of that slide. It happened a lot. I was stuttering and stumbling. It was a mess.

I am so exhausted. I still have two hours left in this class until I can go home and hopefully fit in a nap of some sort. If I am home by four, and asleep by four thirty – that would be ideal. That would give me an hour or so to nap.


Here we are at the next day. I managed to make it to math where I just practiced my penmanship over and over, since I was falling asleep at my station.

All of my finals except for my objective in CGS (not the practical), and my Psych are tomorrow! The other two are online so I will be doing those, I think, on Thursday. Also, I got a 100% on my research paper! That blows me away. I have been chasing hundred in two classes this whole semester, and I finally got them at the very end.

On a separate note – I ordered a face mask off Etsy since it seems one of my biggest blocks in regards to being out and about are smells.

This is one I found that seemed to suit my needs – simple, lightweight, and cotton. They have a ton of cute designs, and shipping is included in the cost. I only ordered one for now to see if I like it or not. It shipped last night after… about a week? No, four days. I ordered it on the 22nd. It will take 2-3 weeks according to the note from the shop. So, I will be waiting quite some time on two packages from South Korea!

That BTS concert I was hoping for? Well, they just officially released all the dates and stops for the HYYH Epilogue tour, and it looks like it is a strictly Asiatic tour. Which… yes, I cannot deny I am a bit sad – but I know they will come back to the US one day. They have been so insanely busy, I can only imagine the stress a true world tour would bring.

This just means that I will possibly be getting a new phone is all!

Okay, I am starting to ramble, so I think I will cut this off here. Have a great rest of your day, and see you next time!

Trash Only. No Recycling.

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There is a realization for myself that I have been avoiding, yet expressed for years all at the same time.

Music is vital for my sanity. It is well known that I never, ever, go anywhere without my high quality headphones. Music fuels my emotions, and brings perspective to my surroundings. It translates my pain, my hopes, and my dreams into something that does require a shared language.

And precisely because of that… communicating my language is so hard. You feel isolated. I try sharing my music.

This means something to me.

                “But, I cannot understand what they are saying.”

                “I can’t really sing along to this.”

When I share music – I am sharing myself. Offering a deep emotion that I feel I cannot express in words otherwise. It has been a running joke for quite some time on,”Lara Language”. Since, communication is such a trial for me. My vocabulary is vast, and I have to constantly adjust in the moment, so others can understand the terminology and context I use. I learned to communicate in a short hand due to this. Either via gesticulations, music, or images in hopes that by removing the challenge of my words – one can understand my meanings universally.

Yet, this never seems to happen.

One of the worst feelings in the world is the that of oppressed silence. An empty room where the vibrations bounce off the walls to echo for an audience of none.

Listen to me.

I have something to say.

Will you please listen?

                My composition professor today, after class, sympathized saying it must be difficult being the smartest person in the class.  It is, and it is not limited to the classroom. With which an astounding intellect that seems to be inversely proportional to the rich social interactions that are possible. Add in a (very misunderstood and difficult) personality disorder… It is difficult. You spend a lot of your time feeling lonely, and yet there is a dichotomy of preferring the solitude over the lackluster interactions you would have to face otherwise.

I am a very articulate and intelligent person. So, why is it that I am so often misunderstood?

Or is it no one wants to understand.

Check, please.

 

What Pisses Me Off

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Or, more accurately: what makes me feel robbed.

Robbed of a childhood filled with actual affection, and praise. It is only now, when I am in college of my own doing, with high grades and no longer in the steep depression that were years before.

Ever worse – they are using my niece to base off whether or not I am “boastable”. My niece is fifteen. They just found out she has been hiding a currently 18 year old boyfriend for the past two years. She is failing every one of her classes. Getting detentions, referrals and skipping school.

Now, my brother-in-law says I am not a mooch in comparison to his daughter. When I would have probably been the same way if it was not for my personality disorder, since this is all entirely due to my sister’s raising of her. My niece needs guidance, and care – not shipping her off to military school. Which they cannot even afford. Admit that you are shit parents, and let me talk to her.

My mother has come to love this show that Steve Harvey hosts called, “Little Big Shot”. Children of various ages achieve grand feats of musical talent, intellect, or skill. And she coos, and boasts about them as if they were her own. However, when I was a child, and even to this day, nothing I did merited praise. Straight a’s? Eh. Learning college algebra at age four? Eh. “I was a mathematician, no big deal.” A painting of mine is featured in the school’s select art show? Who cares.

 

Nothing I did was ever good enough, and still is not good enough five minutes ago.

Maybe, this is why I crave assurance and praise so much, since I was robbed of it as a child.