Monday, February 3, 2014


I started this blog how many years ago to talk about this journey I've been on to find myself?  But I haven’t been very loyal to writing, and by the time I think about what I am going to write, or have any desire to write anything at all, I realize I've forgotten my password, or I’m too lazy to open a word document, or some other lame excuse that keeps me from sharing my feelings with everyone else who may or may not know me and who may or may not judge me.

But let’s be honest here, ever since I started this blog, I've had a few readers here and there who I have never felt like for one second judged me based on my thoughts or beliefs, or especially my fears.  Which is why I am sitting down tonight in an attempt to say everything that is on my mind and let this out of my system, because I can’t think of any other way to do it.

It the many many many months since I have written a word on this blog my entire world has changed.  I have traveled to and from another country. I have lived on my own.  And a lot of big changes have occurred in my life.

First of all, in May I filmed and uploaded this video to my youtube channel talking about my huge quarter life crisis I was going through.  I haven’t found much relief from this yet, but here’s the video if you want to see what was going through my head back then:

If you remember way back to when I first started this blog, I often complained about my job.  I was working at a veterinary hospital and if it wasn't obvious that I was miserable, let me stop you here and tell you that for three years of my life, I spent every day I was at work debating if I should quit or not.  I stuck it out.  I put up with a very mean boss and allowed myself to be miserable, because despite how much I hated it most of the time, the people at that office were like family to me. 

While I was away on my Study Abroad trip, something very serious happened that I don’t talk to a lot of people about: My boss committed suicide.  I was, despite how much I didn’t like her at times, very upset by this.  She had given me a chance to work somewhere I would have never been able to otherwise and although I spent a lot of time hating that job, she had taught me so much and I had learned a lot about myself in more ways than I could even try to explain. 

I can’t decide if being away from home at the time made things better or worse.  I was a mess for a few days (not to mention it was around finals time too).  I was even more upset that I couldn’t be there to support people I considered my family at the time, not to mention I had no idea if I was going to have a job when I came back or not.  It was not a good time in my life.

However, that being said, it did have one benefit.  For a good year before this happened, I had decided that I no longer wanted to be a veterinarian.  And although I had found a way to tell my parents and a few others, I had never had to heart to tell anyone at work.  I didn’t want to disappoint anyone or make them feel like they gave me the job and I was actually just wasting their space and money.  When my boss died, I finally felt a sense of freedom, despite all the bad.  I didn’t have to face her and disappoint her.  I didn’t have to keep lying to myself that maybe I could convince myself that I could still be a vet even though I was 100% sure that wasn’t what I wanted to do anymore.  It was relieving to not have to worry about that anymore. 

I feel horrible saying something good could come out of someone’s death.  But despite how much I miss my boss as a vet, and despite all that she taught me, and all that I’ve come to realize from working there, I finally felt like I was ready to do what I wanted to do and wasn’t going to be disappointing anyone.  I could finally be honest.  And surprisingly, everyone at work was very open to my decision to no longer pursue Veterinary Medicine. 

With that said I was supposed to start the process of applying to graduate schools early in the fall, but as time came around I kept pushing it back further and further and further, until I had no choice but to sloppily apply to some schools I felt I would fit in well with.  I was pursuing phd programs in Ecology and Conservation and applied to only six programs. 

Flash forward to about January 7th when all my applications were done and the last 60 dollars was spent sending in my applications.   I wanted to at that point forget that I had applied and just wait until somehow magical acceptance letters showed up in my inbox, but with graduate programs that’s never the case and for almost a week after I was dealing with lost transcripts or advising problems and everything else that could stress someone out during an application processes.  To this day still, not everything has been taking care of, but I am to the point where I am so tired and so depressed that I don’t even have the energy to put the effort forward anymore. 

Basically what I am saying is that since about January 7th, I have found myself in a horrible depression that stemmed from what is called an existential crisis.  I don’t have the energy to do school work, or to respond to emails, or to schedule meetings.  It’s hard enough for me to roll out of bed in the mornings and get my hair and makeup done so I can look like I have it all together, when really on the inside I could just curl up in a hole and die. 

It’s just senioritis.  No its not.  I feel like I’m staring down a deep dark hole of oblivion that is trying to eat me alive.  I can’t see passed tomorrow and I have no idea what is going to happen to me after May and that scares the hell out of me.

I’m terrified. 

Of everything.

What if I don’t get into grad school? What am I going to do with my life?  Taking a gap year is no problem really, but where will I work? Where will I live?  How am I going to make enough money to live off of? Will I even be remotely happy?  Am I even going to want to reapply to graduate programs again, we knew this time around was hard enough for me.  What if I can’t? 

What if I do get into grad school? What city am I going to end up in? How am I going to move there?  Where am I going to live? What am I going to do?  I’m going to be moving out of my house.  I WILL BE MOVING OUT.  And that isn't exactly something that is a small deal.  For someone who has lived at home for all but 6 months of her life, leaving home to move out for good is a REALLY big deal.  

I am so scared that it’s ridiculous.  I have never had a time in my life where I haven’t been able to plan my life out.  I have no idea what I am going to be doing in May, June, July, April, the rest of forever.  Everything after graduation is a huge giant void of I don’t know.  And to say that shouldn't be scary…I’m sorry but that would be wrong.  


 I know. I know.  I shouldn't worry about the “what ifs”.  I shouldn't worry about things I currently have no control of.  But take someone like me, who is desperate for what little control of her life that she can manage to get a firm grasp of and take that away, and what do you leave her with? 

So there’s my honest truth.  I am afraid.  I am depressed.  This is oblivion

In a few months we’ll know I guess.  We’ll know where I’m going.

I can’t get over the overwhelmingly numbing feeling of fear to feel anything like curiosity or excitement, so I guess I will leave that up for you to feel.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Forgetting How to Be Me

Wow, it’s been awhile.  5 months?  I guess I’ve just found myself unable to put thoughts into words and say anything even remotely worth saying.  Not really sure why I am attempting it right now.   

Since I’ve been in New Zealand (hard to believe I’m there already huh?) things have changed.  I have gained so much independence (yet at the same time I still have so little), I think I’ve figured out a lot more about the types of things I WANT to do with my biology major. FINALLY!  Although, I’ve said that before, huh? So we’ll see how long this one sticks.  Who wants to place their bets?  I give 3 months from when I get back from the states.

A lot more about ME has changed.  Turns out, despite how much I hate it, I’m quite the little Hufflepuff and when it comes to having roommates, I’m very much the non-confrontational one.  I would rather have peace than the group of us fighting.  Strange huh? Often enough I like to think of myself as the person who WILL call out bull or at least throw a fit at the situation (Slytherin very much so there). 

Actually, I have become quite the people pleaser.  And it’s weird.  Since getting here, I have cared more about what people think of me than I’ve cared of what I think of myself.  And it’s starting to destroy me.   I should NOT be fighting my depression here in New Zealand.  Yet here I am, fighting it like I was back at home when I thought I had it because I was suffocated.  Nope.  Here, I am so afraid that people will think negative things about me or just not like me.  I’m afraid of people judging me for the way I am.  Basically, since I’ve gotten here, I’ve forgotten to be myself. 

Not that I know who I am totally.  Then again, do any of us?  But, I know who I’m not.  I am NOT a people pleaser.  So should I really care what people think of me? Should I care that there are people out there who don’t like me?  Who don’t understand me?   It should come down to me.  It should be entirely about me.  I should be doing what I want to here.  I should be happy with who I am, not with who other people want me to be.

I am a nerd.  I love poetry.  I love cinema.  I’m not afraid to go to the cinema alone.  I would rather spend my evening with a book than a group of people drinking.  I love quotes because hell if I can ever say what I’m thinking but someone out there can ten hundred times better than I can.  I am that person who will call you out for being a douche bag if you are.  I’m not the type to let people step on me. So why am I?

I think I got too caught up in the hustle and bustle of being forced to be around so many people that I don’t know anymore that I thought I had to be friends with that I forgot that I can still choose my friends.  I thought I had to make everyone happy, but just because I live near a hundred people doesn’t mean I have to buddy buddy with them.  I can be acquaintances, or I could just be neighbors with others.  I’ll make some friends, but only the ones I can be me around.  Crazy, manic, nerdy me.  This adventure is about me (how many times can I say that before it finally sinks in? we have to be at at least 3 dozen by now!)

I’m here. I’m me.  Allons-y

Monday, December 3, 2012

Being Unable to Deliver

So, this semester we're venturing into something completely new to me.  My first C in a class.  Actually, make that 2 C's.  Whereas, the rest of my grades will more than likely be A's, 2 of my classes are going anything but well.

Yeah, I know what anyone in college is thinking right now, "A C is great. It's passing. I pull C's all the time. It's no big deal." Either that or you're sitting there thinking about screaming at me for being stupid and unappreciative of what I have in life. 

The thing is is that all my life I've had the expectations to be smarter than the average.  I mean like people EXPECT it out of me.  I walk into my mom's work and people go "Still pulling off those straight A's?".  No. No I'm not. I haven't since my Freshman year.  In fact, I have only made Dean's List once since starting college.

When did I become THAT girl? The one that can't get her own act together so she can pass a class?  When did I start getting D's and F's on exams?

It's not like I'm not trying.  I study a lot.  Besides the fact my sorority takes up a lot of my time and I work on weekends: I have no social life.  I don't see my friends ever.  I don't go out drinking at the bars.  Yet those people who do are still doing better than I am in school.

I am failing everyone's expectations of me.  I'm failing my own expectations.  I am no longer able to deliver what I was able to in High School.  School has become entirely too difficult to me.  Biology has become some foreign language that I cannot fathom to understand. 

I miss math.  I miss the simplicity and direction of math.  There's an answer in math and that is the answer.  That's not the case with Biology.  I can't seem to understand the topics that I should be able to.  I can't make much of anything make sense anymore.

I feel like I've lost all my passion for everything this semester.  Like this struggle has literally killed something inside of me.  NaNoWriMo didn't excite me and I was just glad to get it over with (Yes, I did win).  The things that I used to care so much about, I just don't anymore.

I don't know what's wrong with me.  I don't know who I've become or what I should do from here.

75 days until I leave for New Zealand.  I hope to God that I can figure myself out there because I sure can't seem to do it here.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Learning how to...Drown

People who are drowning can swim better than I can.  Yet for some unknown to mankind reason, I decided to take a scuba diving class this semester.  Go ahead call me crazy, plenty of people already have.

The funny part is, I used to be a great swimmer.  When I was a kid, my parents called me a “little fish,” and in middle school I was put in the advanced swim class during gym and even considered joining the diving team.  For some reason or another though, after middle school, I stopped going in the water.  I think a lot of it had to do with my self confidence in myself and not wanting to be in a swimsuit, because honestly I will to this day avoid any situation which involves me having to wear a swimsuit.  I don’t have a swim suit body and I never will.  Over the years, I got rusty with my swimming.  I just didn’t think I got THAT bad.

 So if I’m a horrible swimmer, why did I decide to take scuba diving?  Yes, partially because I actually was naive enough to think that being able to breathe under water was going to make me a good swimmer.  And yes, I didn’t think that I was going to have to be a swim team level swimmer to take this class, but that’s not why I wanted to take the class.  I wanted to take the class because I’m moving to New Zealand in a couple of months, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get to travel to Australia at some point while I am down that way.  And diving in the great barrier reefs would be entirely too amazing. 

 But here’s the thing.  I have to be able to massively swim for this class.  And when half your class is made up of swim team swimmers, the fact that you can’t even do one length of free style the right way, makes everything intimidating.  Yes, I could work and work and work doing free swim hours to improve my swimming, but it comes down to this: this is a class at school.  I am getting credit for taking this. This means I am also getting a letter grade, so my GPA is going to be affected by this class.  

 I came home from class last night to an email from my teacher saying that things would get better if I only worked at it.  It was nothing more than a pity email. Her feeling bad for me because she doesn’t want the only girl in the class dropping and she knows that I obvious want certified if I am taking the class.  But it was nothing more than a pity email that implied that if I work hard, I’ll get a C in her class. 

 I have already put a good hundred dollars into this class, and have a good 200 more dollars to put in this class (getting scuba certified is expensive!)  I’m paying extra to drop my GPA? I’m pretty sure I’m paying enough for my regular classes already to just get the same affect. 

It boils down to this.  Yes I want this certification.  Yes I want to be able to go to Australia and swim the reefs.  But I just don’t know if it is going to be at all possible for me to do it.  I don’t think I am going to have the time and energy to reteach myself how to swim like a care free 7 year old again.  I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to teach myself how to be a “little fish” in a matter of 8 weeks on top of all my other classes and commitments. 

 So what if I don’t end up swimming in the great barrier reef right? Plenty of people go there and don’t do that and it doesn’t make my trip any less incredible right?  I’m still getting to travel the world and see amazing places that I could only dream about going and seeing.    I’m still going to get to see different animals and organisms, even if they aren’t under water.  I had no other plans for a scuba certification other than this trip, so nothing else in my life is really affected by my decision to drop out of the class. 

 The lessons we learn in life aren’t always the ones we expect to learn.  I learned the hard way that sometimes remembering things isn’t always as easy as remembering how to ride a bike, and usually those are the things that we can survive our lives without knowing.  Sometimes the things we want to learn we can’t.  I have realized one thing.  I am a master at drowning, which is something some other people can’t do.  So there.  I’ve got that to keep me going.
Side Note: I am selling some scuba equipment (unless I end up returning it) which is brand new and not opened yet.  This includes, mask, snorkle, and small/medium sized fins, and mask cleaner.  I'll be selling them for around $110 plus shipping if they need shipped. 

Thursday, August 23, 2012

The Mistakes I've Made in the Papertown

I have made some pretty big mistakes in my life.  Especially within the last few months.  I have pushed everyone who has ever tried to get close to me post elementary school away; including friends, guys who like me, my parents, and other adults.  And it’s all because I’m afraid.  I’m afraid of commitment, of relationships, of hurting every single person I get near: emotionally, physically, and mentally.  I have lost so many opportunities and hurt so many people, and I could make so many excuses for why I am the way I am, but I don’t even know why I am this way.  

What I do know is this: this town, this papertown, is suffocating me with every breath I take.  I have lived in this town for 20 years and nothing has ever changed about it.  The houses are the same.  The people are the same.  And I’m still here.  Those paper houses, those paper people, and that paper me.  And we don’t leave because we don’t see what it does, staying in the same place that is.  We don’t see what else there is.  And if we do, we so often only stay within a three hour radius of where we began because we’re all afraid a little, of the commitment, of getting lost.  

But I have gotten lost and I haven’t even gone anywhere.  I’ve stayed in the papertown.  I’ve burnt my future here.  I’ve lost who I am and what I want.  I don’t recognize myself half the time I see myself or am alone with myself.  I’m not the same strong, bubbly, controlled me.  I’m not depressed by any means.  I’m just not happy anymore.  

I’ve been spending the last 4 months or so trying to figure myself back out, but I just can’t.  The pieces of myself have gotten lost and I can’t find them.  They’ve been scattered.  I know who has some pieces, but I don’t have the courage to get them back because they belong to those people who I have royally screwed up with.  Who’s trust and happiness I don’t deserve to share.  The rest of the pieces are somewhere locked within me, but putting them back together is going to take a lot of time and a lot of heart.  

January can’t come quick enough.  I need to start new.  To figure out what I want in life.  What I want to do with my life. Where I want to go in life. I need to go somewhere where no one knows me.  Where no one knows how broken I am or how lost in myself I am.    New Zealand. Where I can be whatever me I need to be.  Or I can be figure things out for myself again and just be me because I really miss myself.  I don’t like this side of me.

I can’t promise I’ll come back.  Leaving this papertown could be the best thing I could ever do to myself.  And instead of going to the papertown and never coming back, I am leaving the paper town and leaving for good.  I’ll be like Margo Roth Speigleman and make myself the mystery.  I’ll be an entirely new me.  Healthy, and ready to go.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Kat and the Y.A. Novel

I am living in a young adult novel, and to be deadly honest it's not a fabulous as it would seem.  When you break it down to what it is, the answer is that this is real life.  Because despite the fact that in Y.A. novels, the protagonist always ends up finding love, or at least finds some form of life long happiness, none of those things seem to be coming my way.  In fact, my entire life currently seems to be rotating around guy drama.

There is more guy drama in my life than you would probably even find in an episode of "Awkward," and if you watch that show you know that Jenna, has A LOT of drama in her life.  But between two guys that like me, one of which I definitely don't like and one that I could potentially like in the future, a guy I like that I absolutely shouldn't because 1. he has a girlfriend and 2. I really just shouldn't, and that guy in the coffee shop that I am completely lusting over but has no idea I even exist...yeah it's a lot to process over time.  The funny thing is, is that I read books like "Anna and The French Kiss" and "Lola and the Boy Next Door" and wish to myself "why can't my life be like that?"  Well here.  For example I am going to explain how, although I am like a girl from a Y.A. novel very much, I am nothing the same.

1.  My life and surroundings are average.  
As in, I live in a neighbor hood where the average family has both a mother and a father (even if they are split) with 2.5 kids and a white piked fence.  I don't live in Paris, I don't live in New York, I don't have two gay dads, I'm not suffering from some life threatening illness.
My life is average to say the least.  So it makes sense that nothing extraordinary would ever happen to me.  All the girls in Y.A. novels live somewhere exciting, or have something VERY different about their families.  That's just not me.

2. I'm not that type of girl at all
I'm not the type of girl to go out of her comfort zone to talk to a guy.  I'm not the type of girl who knows HOW to date or what to say to guys or how to treat guys.
Prime example, when a guy asks me out, my instinct is to decline.  Because I don't who I want to date let alone how to go about the dating thing.
I'm also not the type of girl a guy would leave his girlfriend for. I'm not super attractive, or model skinny, or nice. Ever notice how the girls in Y.A. novels seem to be flawed but only to a minimal amount? My flaw far outweigh my strengths, as it is with many real people.Or even if they do seem real enough, they always seem to find a guy that doesn't care who they are only and fall in love at first sight anyway, but let's face it.  We get one happy ending if we're lucky.  Out of all the people we will meet and who come in and out of our lives, the chances of this time being the one are SLIM.  In Y.A. novels, he's almost ALWAYS the one.

3. No one is writing my story but me
And although I'm a writer, I can't tell myself what to say when and set up the perfect occasions for me and a guy to fall in love. I can't create perfect conversations or perfect moments.  It just does not happen that way.

Here's the reality with each of my guys:
For one, I don't like him the way he likes me and I have to spend my time ignoring him or trying to let him down easy.
For anther, I guess we just start as friends and work out way to what might happen and risk it not working out if something does happen (which I am not at all saying will ever happen because I don't know him well enough yet at all).
I continue to admire the one from afar with all realization that I will never have the courage to go up to him and say "Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's my number, call me maybe." Because that IS NOT HAPPENING.  Besides my luck, he's gay.
And for the last, I guess I just get over him.  Because I don't think anything good will come of it.

So yeah, my life is a Y.A. novel, but its certainly a grimier, more worn down version where no one tells me what to do except myself.  Maybe I'll get lucky and something fabulous will happen, but I think it's time to realize that although we read about love and perfect relationships, the reality is that it hardly happens that way at all.  Guess it's about time we realized that.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

The Annoying Truth about Friendship and Facebook

Dearest Readers,
Please excuse this really really quick rant I have to go on about friends and the way people react to facebook friendship.  It's nothing serious, just something that has been popping back up in my life.  Yes, it's directed to a few people in particular.  We'll be back to the normal type of blog next week.  Don't worry.
Best Wishes

I’ve never been one for making friends and keeping friend.  Which probably explains why I only have maybe 5 or so really close friends.  Other than that, I let people just come and go in my life.  For different reasons for everyone of course. Mostly its just me trying to find the people I WANT to hang out with.  I’ll tell you, college is a hard place to find friends believe it or not.  There are just so many different types of people out there.   So yes, my friends have come and go throughout the years, but is that a crime?  If it’s not then why is it that sometimes I feel like I get treated like it is?

I realize that sometimes I’m the one who jumps to the conclusion and deletes people from my life.  Come on, with facebook and other social networking sites it’s simple to click a bottom and temporarily delete people from life.  It’s facebook though.  It’s not law.  I always say with people, just because we’re not friends on facebook doesn’t mean I hate you.  A lot of the time I’m not friends with people on facebook if they debate too much (as it tends to get out of hand online way too fast) or if they comment and like EVERYTHING I post because it just blows up my newsfeed and annoys me.  A lot of the time it’s not because people do anything wrong.  It’s more or less because I just can’t handle them at the time.  And even at that, we’re not best friends anyway, chances are we won’t be. So why do people get so up in arms when they get deleted or ignored.  I think as a hole we put too much pressure on what facebook shows instead of what people think.  Before facebook how do you think people communicated and got to know each other?  They became friends with the people they actually saw.

So maybe we’re friends.  Maybe we’re not.  Maybe just because we’re not friends on facebook doesn’t mean we’re not friends.  Let’s get over the facebook drama that ALWAYS happens.
I don’t know where I’m going with this, I’m just having that wonderful gut wrenching feeling about these sort of things.   I don’t know.  Just a rant I guess.