My Life is Anything But Perfect

For some reason I am unable to fathom how some people seem to think that I live a perfect life that has nothing to complain about. Now I will admit that I complain more than I should, and I’m working on it, and I’m not advocating for you to think life is terrible, but I’m also asking you to not think anybody’s life is perfect. The truth is, everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. So be kind, always. So I am going to talk about a few, not all, of my battles.

The first thing I’m going to talk about is depression. The fact that I struggle daily with depression is inevitable. I can hide it from people’s eyes but I can not evade the fact that it's true. There are many different events going on that factor into this so I’ll talk about a few key ones. A large contributing factor is that I lost a lot of key people in my life all at once. It was unbearably hard on me and I wanted the pain to end. Sometimes I felt I would have done anything to make it end. I wrote in my journal once “I’m so fucking tired. So fucking tired of this. I want it to end.” I have decided to not go too far into the next reason but I will mention it, because it was significant. I don’t have a stellar relationship with my mother. We do not always get along, and it is tiring to live with someone you are always fighting with. But even more so, it’s tiring to have such a strong love for a person you are constantly fighting with. In another journal entry I wrote “She is never happy with me, at least not for long. I am so tired. I want to stop being tired. I want to stop pretending I’m happy. I want to stop trying. I want to it to stop. I want it to stop. I want it to end.” I want you to know that I have thought of self inflicted harm but I have never come close to attempting.

Secondly, stress has driven me to insanity and keeps on adding the miles on. Mainly stress causes me migraines. Migraines have taken over my life. The best way to explain what they've done to my memory is making an analogy. Let’s say my life is a glass window in the back seat of a family car right beside the car seat of the youngest child. As children I’m sure you remember swiping your sweaty little fingers tips and palms all over that back window. Your parents would always scold you, for now they need to clean the window from the greasy streaks. But in my case, no one is there to clean the smudges. Sometimes I have flashbacks, usually of insignificant events, but other than that migraines have made grades six through nine a complete fog. Migraines have pulled me up by my roots. Some people say I’m one of the most down-to-earth people they’ve ever met. I find this quite ironic because I have such a down-to-earth disposition, but truly it’s so hard for me to stay grounded. I am in wonderland half the time, just sitting in the back of my head. I have an extremely small attention span now, I have loads of nervous energy and anxiety, and truth be heard, I wouldn’t be surprised if my pediatrician diagnoses me with ADHD. The stress amounts I undergo are to the point that at any given moment you asked me to cry, it would take me anywhere from a minute to a few seconds to burst into tears. I am on the verge of tears perpetually.

When you add these two things together, they make for quite the ordeal to be dealt with for one small fifteen year old girl that already has to think about getting decent grades in school if she wants to have a nice future ahead of her. The coalition of these two tribulations has caused me a variety of other issues such as malnutrition (not due to or related to any eating disorder), depreciation in grades and school work, issues with close friends, and loss of temperament control.

I want to acknowledge the fact that there are people out there with much worse problems than mine but I also believe that you should never degrade your emotions just because someone else out there is dealing with something worse. Point is, don’t assume someone’s life is flawless and remember, everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind, always.

Photo courtesy: Electric Sekki

168 Hours in a Week

“You’re lazy.”
“You don’t work hard.”
“You think the world revolves around you.”
“You get all of what you have handed to you.”
“You get good grades because of the school that you go to.”
“You ride horses? You must be rich.”
“You’re a selfish little bitch.”
This pretty much sums up what people think of me. This sums up what I hear every week, or even every day. It makes me sick to my stomach. It makes me cry. It makes me feel unappreciated. It has caused me to have depression, at the youngest of ages.

I first experienced depression in sixth grade when people told me “You’re so skinny, you’re going to die.” Or they would ask me “Are you anorexic?” or “Do your parents feed you?” Nearly every day I would go home crying my eyes out because people would bully me about how much I weighed. I began to develop clinical migraines from the amount of stress that I was experiencing.

In seventh grade it only went downhill. First my grandpa died, he was the closest family member I had after my parents and his death rattled me. I never let myself grieve his death. I forced myself to forget that he even ever existed. This wasn’t by choice, it was because at the time I was already emotionally unstable, and I wasn’t about to let myself fall into the deep pit of grief that I knew was awaiting me. But this did not fix my depression, and next my very best friend left me the summer after seventh grade. She went from FaceTiming me for hours at a time each day to not ever texting me back. I didn’t know what I had done wrong, all I knew was that another huge people figure in my life was gone.

In eighth grade I developed what I called separation anxiety. When I felt alone, too alone, I would have an anxiety attack that would begin with me feeling nauseous, then shaking, then full out balling, rocking back and forth on my tailbone as my whole body shook like an earth quake. I got migraines every one to two weeks, and school didn’t help.

I forced myself to forget about all of this, just like I forced myself to forget my papa (grandpa). But it all came back the other day when I was with my friend. We were talking about the sadder aspects in our lives when it all came rolling back into my brain. How hurt I really am, how messed up I really am, how bad my depression actually was and still may be. But I got so goddamned good at hiding it from others that I could hide it from myself too. I had ignored it, shoved it into the very back of my thoughts, but it was still there. School gives me no time to handle my own personal needs. I have no time to have a mental health day. I have no time to waste crying over what my life actually is because I spend approximately 40 hours at school, 21 hours on homework, 12 hours at the barn, 10 hours eating, 56 hours sleeping, 2 hours showering, 5 hours getting ready for school, and 4 hours on the bus every single week. Do you know how many hours are in a week? 168 hours. Do you know how many hours those numbers add up to? 168. This is how I spend my weeks. Do I have enough time to be stressed? To take a minute to just focus on breathing? No. So am I lazy? Is using every single hour of your week that you can for productive purposes what you call lazy?

My cat being adorably lazy, as always.

Work Smart, Not Hard

“Work smart, not hard” is my dad’s favorite thing to say to me aside from “I’m going to be cleaning my guns when you bring a boy to this house.” Well I’ve been applying that quote of his (the first one) to my future. Working smart, career wise, would be getting a well paid job. But I have not yet found a job that brings money in with ease and would make me genuinely happy to do. I do know what job I want. I want to train and professionally compete horse. But the money that goes into that and the money that comes out, aren’t compatible.

So I will have to make a decision between worrying about the bills or not being completely satisfied all of the time. Or I could marry rich, but I can’t count on that. What I have come down to is that my job needs to have something to do with animals. Every one always says “Then be a vet” to that, but I don’t think that would necessarily be my ideal job either.


When is school going to teach me to balance my happiness and my success? When is school going to teach me anything significant to my life ahead? When is school going to stop asking me "What would be your ideal job?" and start telling me what different jobs are out there?

What I want most in life is to find and thrive in my happy place. But my happy place is too expensive for me to not have to stress about bills. And the second thing I want most in life, is to not stress about bills. The only way I am finding that I could possibly pull off both is if I found a well paying job, probably not animal included, and then train and compete in my free time. And still have time for a family and sleeping and eating.

Why does happiness seem so hard to find in this world? Why am I fourteen and already stressing about my adulthood?

Sorry for ranting but I feel the need to express what’s going through my head right now.

 Photo courtesy to Annika Amilie

The Plain Out, Uncultured Truth of Why School Sucks

Adults seem to have this twisted view of why exactly their kids complain 24/7 about school. “Oh, she just dislikes school because of the homework” or “He doesn’t like school because he’d rather be gaming than learning.” This is not the case for many of these students.

School is cringed upon not because it takes effort or because we have to do home work at night. Kids actually want to learn. They want to have something to do. They want to have something to get better at. School is shamed upon by them because of the way it is set up. The way it is scored. The way it is taught. The way it is shoved into our brains as hastily as a toddler pokes the buttons on a remote. School is hated for its standards.

Standards are set by highly educated, fully matured, adults. The problem? These standards are for kids, not adults. So take the standards crafted by highly educated, fully matured, adults and add these to parent standards. Do a sport, be smart, be successful, do your chores, go to bed at a decent time, and have a social life. And then add the sum of highly educated, fully matured, adult standards and parent standards to sport standards. Sport standards differ due to what sport the child pursues but by high school it’s typically this: two to five hours of your sport at least two to five times during the school week, do well in competitions, condition at home, get good grades in school or we’ll kick you out. Oh, and have fun! If that doesn’t seem hard to you then great! Because there’s one last thing that everyone seems to forget about. Ready for it? Us students have standards for ourselves. Wow! Who would have thought? We have goals? Yes, we all have goals. I have goals, ones that are just as important to me, if not more important, than school standards. WHAT?!
Nope, nope, nope.
That’s not allowed.

School is more important than the way I view myself.

School is more important than what I want for myself.

School is more important than my happiness.

School standards, the standards made by people I don't even know for me and the other 1.436 billion students in the world are more important than my self-standards.

Strangers are deciding the path of my life.

And that’s the plain out, uncultured truth. Strangers rule me. Strangers tell me what to do everyday. Strangers tell me to shut up, glue my eyes to a white board for eight hours, and complete what wasn’t finished in the previous eight hours at home. Strangers tell me to not care about what other people think. And then they tell me to care more about what they want for me than what I want for me.

This is what parents don't get to see. This is what we are told to obey. This is school.

Photo courtesy: Friendship Circle

Stress Pt. 1 (6 Tests, One Day)

Okay, let’s talk about stress. I don’t mind small amounts of stress, in fact, I think that small amounts of stress are good. I would actually rather have minimal amounts of stress than no stress at all, stress keeps me from falling over in life in some ways, but in others it causes me to want to fall over and stay there.

I had six tests today. Six. SIX (please notice the amount of emphasis there.) Let’s go back in time for a moment. Two days ago, October 20th, I began to come down with a cold, I felt dead, literally, and it was the worst cold I have ever gotten in my fourteen years of life. That night knowing that I had a math final and a Spanish exam the next day, went to bed at eight o’ clock, with minimal study hours and my homework unfinished. When I went to bed I began to get a stomach ache. It got so bad to the point that I was physically shaking in bed, teeth chattering, and tears close to shedding. This kind of stomach ache had happened to me once before, we are not ascertain of the cause but it usually lasts twenty-four hours. The next day I typically am unable to walk and it is hard for me to straighten out my abdomen without an abundance of pain. ‘I’m screwed’ I thought to myself while lying in bed probably about five hours later, still wide awake. I got probably around three hours of light sleep that night and my mother didn’t even bother to wake me up at the usual 5:40 AM. That means from 8:00 PM to around 9:00 AM, I spent ten hours miserably in bed out of breath from shaking so hard. The next day, I was on the phone with my dad and he suggested that it might be caused from stress. And he must be right, there’s my little frenemy visiting me once again…

So I stayed home with my favorite reality TV show, Heartland, playing in the background (I was not watching it, I just played it in the background so that I didn’t feel so alone, okay) and studying for all of the tests I would be participating in the next day. First I did some math, then some geography, then back to math to switch it up and keep my ill brain from losing focus. By the time I had finished studying for math, I got a text from a group conversation named “The Hood *insert eggplant emoji here*” which read “I failed the math test” and I immediately started panicking again. Some one who I view as vert good at math is saying that she did extremely badly on the math test which is 100 points in the grade book.

So when my mom gets home I make plans to go to my dad’s house so that I can get extra practice for this apparently really hard math test that everyone I’m talking to is high Cs to low Bs on. I was planning on going to Dimple Dell for a nice trail ride on Cadenza, but little did I know that I was going to have to stay after school to make up a spanish and math exam and won’t even have time for a regular lesson afterwards. Riding is usually my time to unwind and get rid of some stress, but I wasn't even going to be able to have a moment of that. So I’m stressed as all get out is my point, and it’s not healthy. This was pt. 1 of my “stress stories” so stay tuned to that label.

Photo Courtesy to: Free Big Photos