When the Unexpected Happens

"You didn't blog for three days!" True.

"You were supposed to." Did I make it part of my Lenten penance? Yes. Am I going to beat myself over the fact that I went a couple of days without blogging? No.

Why? Because life happens.

Did I anticipate my mother getting injured and being at the hospital for more hours than we had anticipated on Tuesday? No. (side note: she'll be okay; she just has to allow herself time to rest as much as possible and it'll take a couple of weeks for her injury to mend. Please say a prayer for her since she's super active... and she still has to work despite her injury.)

Did I think that all of that -- and another hiccup that didn't let me sleep until 5 a.m. the next morning, thus leaving me more fatigued -- was going to make me fall behind on things that were more important than blogging or some of my other self-imposed Lenten penances? No.

Did I need yesterday to recover (read: get 11 hours of much-needed sleep), catching up on things I'd fallen behind on, and then unwind from the events of the previous days? Absolutely.

Life happens. This is why I'm trying to not let a schedule or routine box me in; because life happens and then I feel the (self-imposed) pressure to do what I planned for myself. This is something that is hard for me to let go of.

I like routines. I like to plan things in advance. When something happens and things don't go according to plan, I have a tendency to get frustrated and anxious about squeezing what I have written down in my planner into the little time I have left. Type-A problem? Most likely. But I'm trying to change.

I wasn't always this way. I think this started when I started suffering from panic attacks and social anxiety. My need for control over something -- anything! -- manifested itself in my planning things and carrying them out, no matter what. Since I felt out of control when I had the panic attacks, I clung to what I could control. While -- thanks be to God! -- I no longer have panic attacks (or, at the very least, very rarely), the habit has stuck around.

This happened at a time when I didn't trust in God... or even think about Him. It was at a time when I was away from the Church and was years away from reverting. It became a terrible habit that I still struggle to let go.

This is one of my Lenten penances -- letting go. Cue the Frozen song that seemingly everyone hates. lol. Seriously, though, it's not easy. It's years of a terrible habit that reminds me that I've yet to master the art of letting God have complete control of my life; to remind myself that I have no control over... and if I do have control over something, things can always change and that's okay.

When the unexpected happens, I'm learning to adapt to it... something I once was moderately good at doing. I'm learning to not make so many plans but to also be prepared for anything that may happen. It's an interesting balance -- being prepared but not having a backup plan... and a plan to the back-up plan.

Do I want to trust God more? Yes! Of course! Will it be easy with this terrible habit? No. But, then again, nothing worth doing is easy, right? There will always be obstacles on this journey to Heaven. This is where I put my money where my mouth is and trust God to send me the graces necessary to overcome this habit.

Do any of you struggle with this problem? Has anyone overcome it? If so, please feel free to send me your tips.

Anyway, these are my thoughts for the day... and an explanation for why I was M.I.A. from blogging for a couple of days.

Now, unto the articles that I have due today and this week (one of which I'm late on).

I hope your first week of Lenten has gone better than mine. ;)

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :D

Holding Mama Mary's Hand

If you're following me on social media then you might've already seen me asking for prayers over the weekend. I had a lovely week -- made lovelier by good news from the doctor -- but things started to fall apart on Saturday. For once, I'm keeping the exact details to myself; only a few close friends know the full extent of what's going. Let's just say that it's a mix of a new health (heart related) worry for me, seeing things happening to Mom that are beyond her control and completely unjust, and a number of other things that created the perfect storm of intense anxiety.

I literally could not sit still for more than 4 seconds most of Saturday evening and night. I would sit down and immediately bolt up and pace the length of my apartment. That's how intense the anxiety was. You'd think that I'd eventually calm down enough to sleep it off, right? Big fat "nope." Our new next-door neighbors decided to throw a party on Saturday night that lasted until the wee hours on Sunday morning. After they calmed down, I was still so wound up that I just couldn't fall asleep. Having to get up at 4 a.m. that morning was a massive pain after sleeping very little. While my anxiety got a bit better during the day, I still couldn't fall asleep last night and, again, slept very little.

I've tried taking naps yesterday and today but it hasn't gone smoothly. During the first hour or two of the attempted naps, I've kept waking up (and sitting up) suddenly just as I was drifting off to sleep. I knew I had things to do both yesterday and today but I simply couldn't stay sleep, no matter how exhausted I've felt. Finally, I remembered the words that one of my best friends said to me when I told him what was going on and what my fears were: "Clutch our Mother's hand." I got the idea of holding Rosary beads in my hand as I tried to rest and both times that I've done it I've been able to drift to sleep and rest for at least an hour.

Has anyone been in a similar situation in which their minds and/or their hearts were troubled with something and nothing was helping ease the worry? I pray the Rosary on a daily basis but I sometimes don't feel at peace as quickly as I'd like. I'm not sure if holding the Rosary beads helps me drift off to sleep because, psychologically, it's a sort of security blanket during times of trials or if it's because Mama Mary is there with me, helping ease my anxiety. I'd like to think it's the latter. All I know is that imagining that Mama Mary is, in a way, holding my hand while I feel helpless and alone (when I'm physically alone) is very soothing. I've often wrapped Rosary beads around my hand when I've had horrific anxiety attacks but this is the first time I've held them to help me fall asleep.

By the way, please don't say "don't worry!" or "trust in the Lord" because, as well-meaning as they may be, I really don't want to hear those words. It makes me feel like a complete failure when my anxiety gets so bad that I can't stop worrying. I do try but sometimes it gets overwhelming. I ask God for help and I do trust Him but sometimes the mind is weak, especially when it's sleep deprived and can't think rationally.

Anyway, this was a quick blog post to share this in hopes that this may help someone else in a similar situation. If you can't pray the entire Rosary or even a decade, I highly recommend holding a strand of Rosary beads and praying any way you can. Even if it's as simple as "Lord, have mercy on me" or "Blessed Mother, pray for me" -- prayers don't have to be fancy as long as they come from the heart.

I should go eat something... and study. I really hope my anxiety (and the issue that is causing my anxiety) get better soon because I have two exams coming up next week and I really need to concentrate. Ain't nobody got time for your shenanigans, anxiety!

To those who've prayed and continue praying for me: thank you! I know that it's due to all your prayers that I haven't had a full-blown panic attack because this situation is intense and I would've already had a major attack by now.

I hope everyone had a lovely weekend and that you have a great week! :D

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :D

Keeping God in Mind During Attacks

Last night I felt a pretty intense attack... but unlike any panic attacks I've had. I wasn't shaking. I didn't feel like I couldn't breathe nor was there a heaviness on my chest. I wasn't lightheaded. I just felt a sudden wave of hopelessness and desperation. I glanced at the iPod next to me (yes, I need to break the habit of having it nearby when I sleep) and it read 1:37 a.m.

"Nooo," I said to myself. "Not when I have to get up before dawn for Mass." I tried to fight it. I could hear Mussorgsky's "Night on Bald Mountain" starting to play (okay, that's not true but the song pretty much expresses how it felt) as it grew stronger and stronger. Next thing I knew I got out of bed, left my room, and started pacing the perimeter of the living room. At some point I started crying because of the frustration. I hadn't had one of these nights in a really long time; so long that I honestly can't remember when the last one happened. Two years ago? Three?

I know what triggered it. I know what thoughts invade my peace of mind, causing this attack to come to fruition. Though I rationalized them away, they still held strong. "You're weak." "You're doing this to yourself." "There is no hope." Every time a thought like this popped up, I countered it with "But God has my back." "I trust in Him." The more I fought the negative with thoughts of God, the worse the negative thoughts hounded me. Still, I fought.

I tried saying the Memorare prayer over and over, only to not be able to concentrate on the prayer. I thought about praying the Rosary but knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate. Then I did something I never thought I would ever do but it was done without second thought: I literally dropped to my knees and began praying.

The worn out carpet hit my bare kneecaps hard but I didn't care. I cried harder and I began praying. "I trust in God. I don't know why I can't fight these thoughts right now but I trust in You. I trust in God. Our Father... Hail Mary... Glory Be..." Slowly, the negative thoughts began to disappear. "You won't make it to Mass; you have to get up in 2-3 hours. You won't make it" the thought said. "Yes, I can. I'm used to 2 hours of sleep when I drive mom to work and it sometimes takes me 2 more hours to fall back asleep for a nap. I can always go to Mass and come home to nap," I countered. "I WILL go to Mass tomorrow." My rational/logic explanations and my positive thoughts began diminishing the strength of the negative ones. A few minutes later, it had all passed. It still took me a few more minutes to settle down before I fell asleep again.

I can already hear some of my friends theorizing it was a spiritual attack. It certainly wasn't a typical panic attack but whether it was spiritual or not, I was glad that I was able to keep my thoughts on God. If you suffer from panic attacks, you know how hard it is to concentrate on anything that isn't what you're feeling. Even after having suffered through them for half of my life (they started when I was 15 though they've diminished in strength and frequency over the years), it's still hard for me to focus on God during those times. It's worth the try but I know not to beat myself up if I can't automatically go there.

I'm sharing this because I get a lot of blog hits from people searching the key words "Catholicism / Catholic" and "anxiety." Anxiety and panic attacks are still a major taboo with some people. There is still that stigma that there is something "wrong" or "off" with us. There isn't. We're not going crazy, though it may feel like it at times. Part of my anxiety stems from having medical PTSD (years of adverse reactions to medications and food allergies, plus seeing my dad suffer through 7 years of cancer, have left me nervous when it comes to medical emergencies). Some people have a chemical imbalance in their bodies. All are valid reasons that no one should hold against us... and, trust me, most of the time there is nothing but compassion towards us.

Whatever reason there is for these attacks, please know that it has nothing to do with what's "wrong" with us. Some things are beyond our control. Other things -- such as my medical PTSD -- can be worked through. I am making good progress on it though I know it won't be something that will go away overnight. No matter what we go through, we can always ask Him to help us carry those heavy crosses when we feel like we can't. During our times of weakness is when He's right next to us.

Anyway, that's it from me today. I still haven't gone to Mass but I need to start getting ready for one of the later Masses of the day. :) I hope y'all had a great weekend!

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :D

The Kindness of Strangers

Subtitle: Don't be Buster Keaton in the gif.

I haven't blogged in a couple of days because of a series of unfortunate events (though this is far from a Lemony Snicket book.) From the day of my last blog post until today, it's been "go, go, go." Let's recap, shall we?

My brother was supposed to get in at 9 a.m. on Sunday from Texas. Crazy weather had him stranded in Albuquerque, NM and then Phoenix, AZ for a couple of hours at each stop. I had to go pick him up from the airport at nearly midnight, over 14 hours late. When we returned a quarter after midnight, a drunk/high guy began harassing us for money in the parking lot. That was quite a scare because the guy was obviously not in his right mind and we were worried that he would try to hurt my brother. Thankfully, we all hauled tush back to our apartment and nothing more happened.

The following day, I woke up feeling off. I didn't want to drive; I just wanted to stay home. I guess it was a bit of women's intuition because I ended up getting sick at IKEA... and an ambulance was called. What happened? Well, you know how I'm not supposed to exercise? Guess who walked up all those stairs at IKEA? Yep. My heart pounded so hard after walking (yes, walking) up the stairs. Then I felt like I couldn't catch my breath. That led to weakness (think jell-o) feeling in my legs and a feeling like I was going to faint. I tried to catch my breath but I just seemed to feel worse and worse so I sat down next to the IKEA food area. I guess I looked pretty bad because, next thing I know, a fellow customer (a young woman) called 911 and an ambulance was sent for me.

As I lay on the floor, back on the IKEA floor, feet up on a chair, I couldn't help feeling grateful for the young woman and her mother, as they tried to get help for me. My brother stayed with me as my mom stood outside, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. My mom later told me that a young woman walked up to her and asked her if she could pray for us. At the same time, a man (who said he was a pastor) asked if he could pray for me. My brother wasn't too happy with the question but I nodded my head, letting him know it was okay. I don't care if you're not Catholic, all prayers said with good intention are always appreciated. He knelt down and asked God to be with me and heal me from whatever ailed me.

The paramedics came, one of whom looked like the late Fr. Alexander Lewis (whose last words to me were that he was going to pray for me and my anxiety). They checked my vitals: no heart problems, blood pressure and blood sugar levels were normal. Verdict: just a severe panic attack (most likely from the palpitations and pounding in head I felt; that must've triggered a serious fight or flight response in my body.) Of course. (btw, later on that night I found out that my best friend had also ended up in the ER over a similar situation; full moon conspiracy theories commence.)

The whole episode was personally embarrassing because I really don't like bothering people and I felt like I really was. After the paramedics left (after I was given instructions to go somewhere quiet and rest), I had a couple of people ask me if I was okay. One even got me a cold water bottle. I told them it was a severe panic attack and thanked them for asking. At the same time, I was reminded of the kindness of strangers.

No one had an obligation to me. None of them knew me... but they still did everything they could to make sure I received the help I needed. As I look down on my green/white/red "Verso l'alto" band (which I wear as a reminder to perform at least one act of charity daily), I'm reminded of what I've done in the past for others... and what I will continue to do in the future as a way to repay for the kindness shown to me.

It's so easy to forget to show kindness to others; to do acts of charity. We live in a society that focuses on what I can do for "me"... "me, me, me, me, me." We Millennials have the unfortunate reputation of being selfish because, yes, a good portion of us are... and this included non-Millennials. It's just the message we get -- how I can improve me (in superficial, materialistic ways), how I should be my main focus, how I need to be successful (in the world's version of successful, if you know what I mean) in order to show my worth, etc.

This week I'd like to challenge all of you (as well as myself) to think less of yourselves and more on what you can do for others. It can be something as small as helping someone picking up something they've dropped, opening the door for someone, etc. In can start at home -- taking a chore off of someone's hands, helping clean, doing something for your spouse/child/parent. Little acts of kindness add up... and they plant the seed of kindness in others.

Anyway, this is my story for the day. Oh, and if you're wondering, I'm doing well now. I slept in (woke up after 11 a.m. this morning) and I've been putting my feet up whenever I feel the palpitations (an unfortunate symptoms of anemia which I have, unfortunately, been unable to take anything for due to side effects with the iron pills.)

Alright, I have a couple of things to take care of before I head to bed so that's it. :D

I hope y'all are having a good week thus far. :D

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :D

Back to School: Week from Heck

Yes, that's me and, yes, that was the reaction I had to everything I endured past week. (Side note: so no one wigs out, that is my claddagh ring. I'm a Hibernophile and am also part Irish so I can get away with it. ;D) To say that this was the hardest week I've ever had in my academic career would not be an exaggeration. I had to make some of the hardest decisions I've had to make and all I will do is pray to God that I've made the right ones.

Believe it or not, I spent every day of my first week back to school (and first week at a new school) crying. Despite trying to remain optimistic and having the support of both my family and friends, I came very close to dropping out of this school and applying for enrollment at another. If you're following me on Twitter or are a friend on Facebook, you probably read my tweets and status updates in which I expressed my indecision and unhappiness. If you read my last blog post you got just a small glimpse into what was going on in my mind as well. Actually, right after I posted that blog (which I wrote on campus, in the library) I attempted to take a much needed nap but it didn't end up happening. At the end of the day, the combination of my anxiety of being the odd girl out as well as the lack of sleep ended in the worst panic attack I've had since the day my father died.

I had to leave the classroom (I was in math class) and I nearly fainted in the hallway. I had to sit down and I cried my eyes out (and a special "thank you" to the 3 people who stopped and offered me water or tissues while I endure the panic attack) while I tried to control my breathing. I felt too weak to stand up, my hands and feet began tingling and I was extremely lightheaded. I've never had a panic attack that bad at school and never in public. Once I controlled my breathing, I walked into math class but was so lightheaded that I nearly fainted again. I had to catch myself on the piano stool in the classroom (math class is offered in a music room) before making it to my seat. I had to endure the whispers and stares from my classmates and that nearly set off another round of panic but I was able to focus on drinking water and writing down whatever was on the board. Have I ever mentioned how easily embarrassed I get and how uncomfortable I get when the spotlight is on me? This is why I hate getting anxiety in public and why I avoid public speaking at all costs. Anyway, after that experience, I was ready to call it quits.

So what exactly triggered the panic attack? As I said, I believe it was a combination of the lack of sleep, the general anxiety I had (and have) about my classes, the uncomfortable feeling I've felt since day one, and a slew of other things. I just don't feel like I fit in... and I probably don't. As I mentioned in the previous post, if there are "traditional" Catholics on campus they're all hiding. It's almost a crime to be this way... or at least it's the way it feels. While I have no personal problems with any of my professors (they've all been lovely and helpful in terms of my anxiety and working with me because of it), I don't agree with what they teach. One of my professors asked us to erase the thought of Hell out of our minds because it didn't exist... and this was in a Religion class. Of course Hell exists, as does purgatory and Heaven. A lot of things that are being taught, well, I am just not comfortable listening to but I sit there and don't say anything because I've already been warned not to p.o. my professors unless I want to fail. They have a school policy, which I recently learned, which states that we are able to speak our minds regarding religion and that we can't be punished for our beliefs. Regardless, things said about "traditional" Catholics are extremely passive-aggressive. Every time I had a break, I'd go into the chapel and the St. Therese alcove and I'd pray for the strength to make it through my classes because I just didn't feel great in them. Every time I would come out I just dreaded going back to class a little more.

After going through all of these things the first three days of school, plus the elitist snobbery permeating from a great deal of classmates, I was ready to call it a day. Why subject myself to all of that? Why endure two more years of this treatment? Deadline to withdraw without penalties (fees) was Friday so I had hard decisions to make. The anxiety got worse and Wednesday night into Thursday morning was a nightmare. I ended up missing all my classes on Thursday because I was so exhausted from a day of back-to-back panic attacks (they can be both emotionally and physically draining) and I ended up sleeping (recuperating) most of the day. By the time I woke up, I'd missed the entire day. Thursday evening and night I got words of support and encouragement from my mother and friends. The majority supported whatever decision I ended up making while some tried to get me to either leave or stay because it was what they wanted for me. While I appreciated it, I am not a fan of being told (especially when it sounds like I'm being forced) what to do when it comes to my personal life and decisions. It was something both Joe of Verbum Veritatis and Andrew of Per Fidem said that really made look at the situation differently: endure the classes as penance and offer it up. While I usually do this (offering things up for souls in purgatory), I hadn't really thought about doing it for school. I actually spent the rest of my Thursday night going back and forth with Andrew on the whole issue of staying versus going until I had a moment of clarity that really helped me make my decision.

In the end I decided to stay. As someone close to me told me on Thursday night "You are not a quitter." It's true. I don't like giving up and I like proving people wrong when they underestimate me. While I am still really uncomfortable with what will be said about "traditional" Catholics and even though I will want to cry every time they butcher Catholicism and the Church, I will have remind myself that all of this will help me learn what "progressive" Catholics and Christians argue so that my counterargument will be stronger. I am still unsure about whether or not I will sit there and fight all the time or if I'm just going to do it when I am asked (in essays and whatnot when I am directly asked). I have to learn how to pick my battles because I know that no matter what you present, and no matter how sound that argument may be, there are some people who will keep attacking just because they don't agree with you.

By the way, I'll also admit that part of the reason why I decided to stay was because of the tuition. If I stay at this school I'll graduate debt free since I am not asking for any loans. I'm a practical, frugal woman. Taking into consideration that my mother's paycheck is the only one regularly coming in and not knowing what the future holds or how the economy will be in two years, I felt it would be best not to overburden myself with any loans. I still have grad school to go through as well and I have to think about that.

To not make this entry even longer I will say that I dealt with all of this while fighting an upper respiratory infection (and taking antibiotics all 5 days of the week) and then getting cold. I was, and still am, physically drained so much so that I ended up missing Mass today. As I joked Thursday night, I better get some time off in purgatory for all of this. ;)

Alright, well, I have procrastinated long enough. I must get to my math homework which is due tomorrow. While I still feel anxious (which might explain the horrible weakness and fatigue I currently feel; I've been stuck in bed for hours), I've made a personal vow to really give it my all and go down swinging if it comes to that. We'll see how tomorrow and the rest of the week fares.

I hope those of you who returned to school this past week are having a better time than I am. To those who start this coming week: all the best of luck to y'all. :D

As always, thanks for reading and God Bless. :D

It's Fall? Nooo.; (Great!) Anxiety Update; Be Like a Child.

It's definitely NOT Fall in Southern California. At least not in my neck of the woods. When I was on my way home from English Lit, the sign read 99 degrees Fahrenheit. It's slightly cooler where I live (campus is in a different suburb/district) but it's still well over 90 degrees. When my group rehearsed for our upcoming Shakespeare skit, we had to seek shade after about 2 minutes in the sun... it's that unbearable. We had to look for a shade before we could continue with our plan to make the entire class laugh. :D

And while I'm on the topic of the skit... I'm SO EXCITED for it. Again, not just because we get to dress up one of the guys as a girl. (It's gonna take a lot for me not to laugh the way we have it planned. lol.) :D A few months ago I would've dreaded doing this and would've probably done all I could to get out of it. Not so much now. I truly think St. Dymphna has really interceded for me in a big way. That and the Lord showed His mercy on me, after all those times I would ask Him in mid-panic attack (while sobbing) to help me understand why I would get that sick. At the beginning of the year, until probably around mid-late July, anything would trigger a panic attack. It was very bad. I'd say it's the worst time I've had since I first started getting the symptoms (when I was 15). When I started cognitive-behavioral therapy, my anxiety actually got a bit worse before it got better, mainly because I had to talk about things that upset me and it would just make me more anxious. But I'm extremely grateful I had to do it all. I'm also blessed to have a therapist who's Catholic because when I mention things like the importance of going to Mass, or praying to St. Dymphna for her intercession, she gets it. I'm so happy that I'm able to do a lot of things, including travel, that I couldn't because of my anxiety. I'm able to stand in front of people and don't freak out. It's amazing. I've been truly blessed. I won't say more because I've already written much about it. You can read more about it and about St. Dymphna (including prayers to her) in an earlier post I wrote. For the record, I keep bringing this topic up because I know a lot of people who land on my blog do so because they're looking for information regarding Catholicism and anxiety. I hope I've helped those who come in search of answers. :D

Another way I've been able to keep myself from going nutty (so much homework, not enough time. lol) is being more child like. I'm taking St. Therese of Lisieux's advice. I'm doing these little things that I hope the Lord will appreciate. I've also reverted to my pre-anxiety self -- all silly and goofy. I've gotten to the point where I see absolutely no reason why I should stress over little things I used to wig out about. I've started singing and dancing around my room and the living room, like I used to when I was younger. It's the way I shake stress off. I'm not being childish but I'm just doing simple little things that make me happy. And from that happiness, I get more excited about praying and about my faith. It all works out. :D

Alright, well, I'm going to do precisely what I just said... I'm going to sing and dance in a completely dorky/silly way to get some of the stress out. I have a lot due today so I need to get happy before I can proceed. :D

I hope y'all are having a good week... and aren't in the same hot weather as I am. Oy. lol. As always, thanks for reading and God Bless. :D

Thank you, St. Dymphna!

I am beyond exhausted so I'm making this short.

Thank you, St. Dymphna, for your intercession last night (from about midnight until about 3 - 4 a.m.)! I had one of the worst panic attacks last night and shortly after I asked her for her intercession, it went away. I wouldn't say it was almost immediately but I was very surprised at how soon I was back to normal. So, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, St. Dymphna!

When in need of help when it comes to anxiety, panic, depression or any other mental health issues, St. Dymphna is your girl! Remember that!

And now, I am going to go eat, pray the Rosary (as my promise to Our Lady) and then sleep for hours! As always, thanks for reading and God Bless!
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Anxiety, Mass and Childhood Friends.

Wow, what an incredibly hectic week I've had. I haven't been able to blog in nearly a week because of everything that's been going on. I don't even know where to begin.

Well, on Monday (which was a holiday here in the States) I ended up in the E.R. because of a massive panic attack I got. Hyperventilating, lightheaded, chest pains, crying -- the whole thing. I'd never gotten one as intense as it before. The best way I can describe it is feeling like I was going to go nuts. Panic attacks don't usually last more than 15 minutes but I somehow got about 2 - 3 in the space of about an hour (and in the middle of the Liverpool v Aston Villa game) so my mom worried and I was taken to the E.R. I spent about 9 hours there before I was released and basically, they already told me what I know... everything that happened last year has begun to surface and I've been feeling extremely anxious because of it. I was relieved to hear that I'm not going crazy and that I am in fact physically healthy. It just sucks to know that it's going to take a couple of weeks to start kicking the anxiety out of my system. Luckily, I'm taking the semester off so I can work on that before I go off to my new school.

And speaking of my new school -- apparently that is a HUGE source of my anxiety, which I never even considered. I've felt okay with the whole thing but apparently it's a bigger stressor than I had realized. Luckily, I've found these lovely counselors that are willing to work with me at a university nearby (and for dirty cheap -- compared to other places -- because I'm a college student) so I'm on the right path to getting better. I am going to have to postpone writing my book, or at least parts of it, for a while because I can't deal with additional stress until I start my therapy sessions.

You know... it's VERY common for people in this part of Southern California to have counselors, therapists and/or psychiatrists. In fact, there's a running joke that everyone and their dog has one. lol. It's very true though. I live in a very drama-filled city so I can see how that "joke" started. In my case, having to deal with my father's cancer (for the second time in 5 years), just coming off illness myself, having to plan my moving away from home, going through the transfer application process, having a heavy courseload (and I do mean HEAVY), and trying to keep this family together... NOT a walk in the park. Oh and I had the absolute worst summer (I took two 5-week courses, with professors who were partially insane, that were super intense) so... yeah. And, actually, this is the first time I've had vacation in a year. I was in school all of '07 (winter and summer included). Everyone who's had to help their parents out with major responsibilities and/or have had way too much on their plate because of things that have come up -- I completely for you and I know how difficult it is. I don't know how some people are able to cope with all of that but power to ya!

I'm very lucky that I know why I'm going through what I'm going and that I'll be able to work on it to get better again. Like the doctor said, I should be thankful that I'm not depressed (I'm a little too happy and joke around too much to be depressed, lol) and I have a great support system in my parents and my best friends. I know I'll be fine; I just need to really work on it and remember that I've dealt with worse things which I was able to overcome. I'm definitely going to be praying a little more than I was, spending a little extra time asking St. Dymphna for her intercession. As I always say, God never throws anything your way that you can't handle.

I was proud of two things while I was at the hospital -- 1) I was able to bring comfort to an older woman and 2) I was able to make people laugh. While we were in the E.R., I befriended this older lady who was maybe in her 80s. She was fine for a while until she started worrying about her surgery. I asked her if she was Catholic and she said she was. I gave her the St. Jude prayer card I had with me. She read it and then wanted to give it back to me but I told her to keep it so she'd have it as a source of comfort. Her daughter saw what I'd done and she thanked me, telling me that they were actually devotees of his. After that, the older woman seemed in better spirits, which made me so happy! That's all I would ever want -- to cheer up someone who was feeling down, despite how I am feeling. I was very happy I was able to make some of the other people laugh too. Apparently, no matter how much pain or how miserable I may be, I can still manage to make people laugh. I hope I never lose that ability.

Okay, I have said enough about what happened on Monday, which I want to put behind me. I ended up missing mass on Sunday AND Monday which makes me very unhappy! I felt icky on Sunday morning but when I was ready on Sunday afternoon-evening, dad had start getting sick so... I had to stay home. It's all a conspiracy to keep me from mass but, pfft, next Sunday I will be there! I HATE missing mass. I don't feel right... and I am perfectly aware it's a mortal sin (although I know it's not as bad if I miss it because I'm sick or because I have to stay home to take care of my dad). Bah! It's back to confession for me on Saturday, too (for missing mass). If anyone ever wonders why I seem to go to confessions almost every week, it's usually because I miss mass due to circumstances beyond my control. That and Liverpool games make me say mean things about refs who don't do their job properly. lol. Bah humbug! Oh wait... that's a Christmas-y saying, isn't it? lol. Well, you get what I mean. :D

Ooh, this is something interesting that happened last night/this morning. I had the most RANDOM dream about this guy I went to school with... when I was 5 - 11 years old! We were friends all through elementary school and when we went off to junior high, that was it. But it was so WEIRD to have a dream about him. Never in a million year would I have thought of him if I had not had that dream. I think I still have some pictures from when we were kids but I'd have to check. Anyway, I wonder why I had the dream... and it's made me very curious to know what he and his sister (who was also a friend of mine) are up to.

I still keep in touch with childhood friends but most everyone has lost track of everyone else. I find it funny that out of the friends I've known since ages 4 - 11, (that I still keep in touch with) only 3 of them are girls and only because my parents see their parents so we send each other hellos and messages through them. All the rest of them, the ones I personally talk to, are guys. The friend I have known the longest still comes and visits when he's in the area. We've known each other since I was 4 and he was 5. I also still keep in touch with my childhood sweetheart (my first 'boyfriend' who I've known since we were 5 years old), as well. He's off in the Navy so I pray that he gets back home soon to because I'm sure his wife misses him terribly. Thinking about it, it's so WEIRD to think that most of my childhood friends are married, with kids or engaged. Only one of the guys and I are still single. I know it's part of growing up but it's just funny because everyone thought I'd be the first to get married and have kids and I'm the last one. lol. I'm serious. Being the hopeless romantic, everyone pretty much bet I would be the first to marry (and as young as 17). I should've bet a lot of money that I would be the last. lol. While I do have someone I care about, everyone's gonna have to wait quite a while longer before they have my (potential) wedding as an excuse to have a reunion. :D

Yikes, I've written way too much. Sorry, I'm just making up for the last 5 days. Hopefully this will be the longest entry I'll ever write. I will go back to my shorter entries next time. :D

Anyhoo, if you've made it this far... have an imaginary cookie or go get yourself a real one as a reward. If you know me personally, come over and I'll make you cookies. :D lol. Thanks for reading and God Bless.