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Imposter Syndrome

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This tragic facial expression = how I feel when I'm battling imposter syndrome. imposter syndrome n. 1. a psychological term used to define a phenomenon where you feel like an imposter in your own life  2. a knockout to your mental health that makes you feel a) like everyone else has their s*** together while you don't and b) like you don't deserve to be where you are in life despite having earned it  symptoms include: feelings of incompetence and inconsequence and low self-esteem In the picture above, I'm looking off into the distance. This represents my comparison of myself to idealistic versions of other people. My mouth is forming the tiniest smile, but my eyes convey my true feelings of isolation and falsity. This represents how I have been guilty of furthering the cycle of imposter syndrome by faking that I have my life together.  Imposter syndrome is incredibly common and "normal," especially in a world where social media surrounds u
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Idealization
(Leaving Pt 3)

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Photo by Sidney lima on Pexels . I don't know if I miss you or the idea of you.  idealization n. the action of regarding or representing something as perfect or better than in reality I idealize people. People I love, people I don't like, people I've met a total of twice. I consume memories like an alcoholic: not because I like the taste of them but because I need them to function, to remind me of who I am. Memories that are saccharine-coated nothings that leave a bitter aftertaste in my hippocampi. Some conscious brain got it right when it named the hippocampus. The word feels fat and self-indulgent. My hippocampi are sleeping on the job; memories come in but they're not filed away for easy access; sometimes I sift through whole piles of memories and sometimes I can't remember anything no matter how hard I try. I remember how I felt when I was with people but I don't remember how they felt unless they told me or I felt it too. Empathy only gets yo
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Friends
(Leaving pt 2)

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One week from today, I leave for college.  And you can call me overdramatic all you want, but every friend I graduated with has been, is, or will be struggling emotionally with the concept of leaving. In my life, I am the one leaving: moving out of my hometown, moving out of my parents' house, moving away from my friends. Many of my friends who have already left are feeling homesick and struggling to adapt to this lifestyle change. This is not a unique feeling, but that doesn't mean it's any less painful. On the other hand, my friends staying in my hometown are struggling with the feeling of being left behind. I only have to say one round of goodbyes; these friends have to do them over and over as each friend moves away from them. Surrounded by positive images of dorm life on Snapchat and Insta, many crave moving out of their parents' house and into an apartment. Some are even rethinking their decision to remain in our hometown. Long-distance relationships of
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Recipe for the Last All Nighter of the Summer

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Ingredients -utensils- at least 1 physical person, just yourself is fine, but it's more fun when you add some high school friends (4 is the perfect number) 1 handful of online friends 1 vehicle (we took Caren) alternatively: bikes, skateboards, rollerblades, or personal ambulation but use any of these modes of transportation at your own risk 1 reusable bag (optional but if you're not using one, try carrying your items instead of getting a plastic bag) optional: at least 1 picture-taking device like a phone, digital camera, or film camera -daytime ingredients- 1 magic nutrition-shake shop that is only open when you go there with a certain friend 2 1/2 thrift store runs (feel free to substitute any thrift, consignment, or antique store here) >>> 1 Goodwill run (acid-wash vintage jean jackets for only $4, anyone?) >>> 1 1/2 trips to UpThrift (where we strip mannequins to get the good clothes and then wander back in to purchase a hat for a frien
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Leaving

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Photo by Louis on Pexels . Tw: death This is a blog about my life: the good, the bad, the grey. Today memories wrap themselves tightly around my mind, fogging my vision of the present. I grasp at a few of them but they disappear behind others who push urgently to the front of my mind like puppies wiggling for attention. My grandmother passed away a week ago today. Three weeks from today, I will attend my first class at university. These two events, past and present, collide in the chambers of my heart, scraping against each other like earth's plates along the San Andreas Fault. It's only a matter of time before one finds purchase and grinds its way over top of the other, toppling me under shockwaves so strong that they create aftershocks felt by those close to me. Whenever someone I love dies, my thoughts turn to death as a whole: the deaths that came before this one and the traditions our society has created to help guide us through them. Several of my fam
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A Q&A with Carley and Caren

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Meet Caren: my minivan. This is not a blog about Caren. It's a blog about my thoughts and experiences. However, since Caren has been such an integral part of my life over the past year, I'm dedicating this first post to her. If a blog about my life sounds boring to you, consider that in the past six months, I've almost been trapped in a bison range, accidentally sat in on a grassroots anti-Trump party meeting, beat an old lady out of a GoodWill dress, pulled an all-nighter in the back of Caren at a state park to watch the sunrise, stayed in an old jail, almost been hit in the head by a pool ball falling into the pool, made a Lego me, hiked two miles to this yurt in the dark, and assumed a police car was my Lyft (it was dark) only to have my Lyft driver pull up to find me standing in front of a cop car with its flashing lights on. I might fall back on telling these stories if I don't have new content in my life to blog about, but today I'm doing a Q&am
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