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Thursday, May 29, 2014

Too many



There have been so many reasons to do it...stress, pressure, and loneliness all coming together to spend the night in my head without a proper invitation. Too many times I have told myself that I am not worthy when in reality I have earned everything I've got.

These demons floating in my brain have sickened my mental immune system to a point where I can be officially known as "mentally ill." These monsters become so bold as to stop hiding under my bed and start hiding under my skin, sprinkling all of my positive thoughts with a dash of "you aren't good enough try harder," or "they don't really love you," or "you will end up just like your father"...the list goes on and on until I simply have too many reasons to not get out of bed in the morning.

I claw my way out of the monsters clutches, finding good days in the bad, just to realize that it's not that easy to just "get over it". I spend my time in the company of good people enjoying life and doing what I love but when night falls and I am by myself the too many troupe starts to rear its head and...Well screw it...maybe death is the only true silence to these monsters that have taken it upon themselves to scream in my ear.

But as the blade approaches my wrists and with it the very blood I feel is poisoned by my tormentors I remember my mother. I remember my friends and family and all the episodes of Buffy I have ever watched along with every time my high school friends have made me cry tears of laughter. I remember my first kiss and every kiss after that and how special those people have been to me. I remember every Indulgence dance practice when Rob would do a move in a ridiculous way and we would all mock him for it. I remember when she thanked me for being the only one who saw anything special in her. I remember the first time I showed someone my poetry and they didn't laugh at me. Then the blade gets heavy and all of a sudden my boiling blood starts to calm itself. I remember the reason I have made it thus far and all the love that has kept me afloat.


And then I have too many reasons to keep on fighting. 

Monday, May 12, 2014

The Rising Junior


In high school I remember being told that Junior year was the hardest year by far, I remember getting anxious and almost breaking under the weight of the idea before the year even started. How could a year be harder than social awkwardness, romantic rejection, and being in that spot where you can kind of dance but still don’t have anything worthwhile to show? By some miracle I made it through and now 3 years later I stand faced with the same problem. Coming off the most difficult semester of my life I cannot possibly imagine what Junior year has in store for me.

At the beginning of Sophomore year I told my mom that this would be the year that makes me or breaks me, I have no idea why I thought that, but I could feel it in my bones. I needed to stake my claim in the world, to solidify what I wanted to do in life, and to stop questioning every move I make. I wanted to be a dancer, to actually be a dancer. She wants me to go to graduate school and get my PhD in Psychology. I vowed to do both because I have always been a good son and a good student. I thought this would be the year that convinced me I could only do one but I was wrong. These two paths of academia and expression do not diverge as much as our career-driven society would make you think. There is no rule book saying that we can only be good at one thing, that we have to find a profession and then do nothing but that profession for the rest of our lives. Sure that works for some but as humans we should never be satisfied with ourselves until we are at the peak of what we can do.

I've made it no secret about the things I have gone through or felt this semester; it got to the point where both of my parents asked if I would be happier transferring home and I honestly considered it. The reason I didn't is simply because I am stubborn and do not want to leave behind the people I have grown fond of at my school. They have made any depression, dark moments, etc. bearable for me and I is because of them that I know I can make it. Childish Gambino (Donald Glover) once said in an interview “Well yea I’m sad, of course I am. But I don’t think my sadness is any worse than anyone elses. I am just not afraid to say the kind of stuff we are all thinking.” I always want to be able to be real with myself and the people crazy enough to listen to me or read this blog. I wanted to give up this semester, to pack it in and come home to the golden state where everything made more sense, but I have work to do. I have dreams to aspire to and it was in my lowest of points that I was reminded why I wanted to leave in the first place. I needed to be able to make it through all this funk, otherwise I would always just give up when life reared its head. In reality that is probably a terrible reason why but I stuck it out because everyone else did. We all go through our own hells and if my friends and family can stay strong through theirs, then I cannot back down just yet.

This Year I took a variety of classes that allowed me to learn from the past and connect to my future in new and interesting ways. From my Blues class to Advice and Dissent to My Dance Improv and Dance Therapy classes to my Psych courses I have learned so much value information and little ways to improve myself. I have always valued education for educations sake and now I am proud that I have found new ways to apply my knowledge in my actual life. It was also this semester that through the dance program at UR I had the crazy idea to throw myself into modern dance. I no longer want to just be a hip-hop dancer, I do not want to constrain myself from learning new ways to move. So I stepped out of my comfort zone. I performed an amazing chair dance in front seasoned dance veterans at the ACDFA gathering over spring break, I was part of a dance thesis concerning rape and the importance of non-verbal communication and expression, and I finally got over my fear of the women in the dance program long enough to meet some great new people.

I want to start a dance company, I want to write a comic book, I want to be a voice for others and help people. Even when I am home my mind races with the possibilities and opportunities for me to create, express, and inspire. So that’s where my life is right now. I made it through hardest semester of my life and I want to act like it. To prove I learned something, to stop myself from getting that overwhelmed again. I want to balance love and work so that I never neglect either. I am a dancing writer who wants to study the mind and help others find their way. Sounds kind of complex doesn't it?



Just another day in the Star World.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

What it's like



Every time I am about to start a new entry for this blog I contemplate why I still keep the star world around. For years it has just been a little project that I never put much time or effort into. I started it because I used to think that people cared about what I had to say, that my voice could help people or somehow make a difference. Thinking back, I wasn't even a Senior in high school then. Somehow things have changed though. This blog means more to me than it should, through it I can tell people things that I might be too afraid to say face to face. It was through this medium that I was able to tell people about my depressive disorder and for the first time in years not feel ashamed of who I was. So here's to honesty, because amidst all the madness it is the only thing I can really rely on nowadays.

Pretty much anyone I have talked to who is also going through the same mental health fiasco as me will tell you about two things: good days and bad days. On the good days you feel like the way we are meant to feel as people. Happy, able to relate, able to feel, etc. We can wake up and be genuinely happy that we opened our eyes that morning. These are the days we live for, because they provide hope that one day something like “being normal” can actually be achieved. The problem of this lies in the opposite side of the scale: bad days. I can't speak for everyone but for me my bad days consist of waking up and being genuinely surprised that I woke up. I just want to sleep and hide from the world because there is no power in the world that could convince me that I am worth something. On my worst days I have been suicidal, anti-social, and generally aloof towards the world all before I go to my first class.

The only reason I bring this up is because as of lately it seems that my good days are getting better and my bad days are getting worse. I don't feel like I can relate to people anymore. Like there is some sort of divide between me and the rest of humanity that I just cannot bridge. I do not know what is causing it but its starting to scare me, mostly because I do not understand why this is happening to me. Day in and day out I rack my brain trying to find a solution that is not there to a problem that is consuming my life. Is this because of a person I interacted with? Is this because of my location? Or is this simply because I am broken and cannot ever return to how I used to be? I am tired of my depression being a reason that I cannot do things anymore. Anytime I think about hanging out with people or making plans a little flag pops up in my head and says “don't forget that no one cares about you and that this whole outing is worthless”.

I don't feel like a good friend anymore, which kills me because if there was any aspect of myself I was proud of it was my bonds with my friends. I know just how hard I can be to get along with, so I treasure the people close to me and try my best to repay them for all they do for me. Now though... I just feel like I am letting them down. Like I am the “friend with a problem”, that everyone pities and talks about when I am out of hearing range. My bad days have been defining me and it is just weighing me down more and more. I have been told to go talk to a therapist again but my trust issues with people have just made life that much harder.

I am starting to feel trapped within myself and I know I need help to get out...the problem is I do not know who to trust. People have reached out their hands to help and I slap them away just because I am scared and paranoid. I want to connect with people again, I want my friends to know how much I love them, I want to be the guy that people want to be around again...but I just can't see that happening anytime soon.


But hey that’s only on my bad days...

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Well...If I Am Being Honest




So full disclosure time. Earlier this semester I went to the hospital because I had an unhealthy mental state. My friend was worried about me and called security to prevent me from harming myself in someway. Now fun fact: I hate hospitals, I don't trust them and never will, so being trapped in one for a whole night basically against my will was not a good time for me. So what happened after? Well I signed a behavioral contract through the school basically saying I would not hurt myself and I went to therapy. That was a little while back and now I feel confident enough to speak my mind about some things. First off now matter how this comes off I am not doing this for attention, I've just always been the kind of person to be honest about my life. Good and bad I try to be as open as I can because I think it is impossible to connect to others if you aren't willing share your baggage. So while some might see this as “brave” or “stupid” I just see it as me being me, same as always.

So I guess you could say that I have always been prone to some kind of depression or profound sadness, I am an only child whose single mother has been working a 9-5 job (most of the time more than that) even since I can remember. As a result I was alone with my thoughts a lot, not to say that my mother is anything less than my hero and one of my biggest role models, but even for her it was impossible to be in two places at once. Since it was me by my lonesome I developed a very harsh cynical mentality of me against the world, save a few people I deemed worthy to be on my side. I spent a big portion of my teen years feeling like nothing I ever did was good enough and pushing myself to be better in ways that was sometimes just not possible. I struggled a lot with my racial identity, never feeling black enough to fit in or white-washed enough to stand out. I worried whether or not I would grow up to be manly enough, since there was no prominent male role model living with me I always feared that I would end up leaving whatever family I help make. All these tiny things stuck with me and just when I thought I had a reign on them in college, they came back in full force to trip me up again.


Freshman year was not so bad, the excitement of being in a new place overwhelmed my doubts...for a while. Soon after the feeling of new washed off there was a feeling of loneliness that I could not pin down. I wasn't home sick (I loved my school), I wasn't unpopular (I had my dance team and close hall-mates), and I wasn't unhealthy (I was eating better than I did at home). So what was this feeling of crushing loneliness? Well as I would find out in my sophomore year, it was me still fighting myself. No matter what I did I ALWAYS doubted myself. Dance, school work, my relationships, etc. I always came down on myself harder than anyone around me could, and I always felt like trash because of it. This developed into ideas of “just die” that, while not prominent, stuck in the back of my mind for longer than I would like to admit. They say that you cannot love someone else until you love yourself, but no one ever tells you how to love yourself, turns out it is not easy.

I had to try and rebuild myself from scratch it seemed like. Tell myself what seemed like lies. “that dance looked okay, that grade was good, you look nice today”, all the things things I once took for granted I now tried to thank myself for. It is incredibly difficult to be an adult and still be convincing yourself that you aren't a terrible dancer after you have been dancing for years. It was necessary though. I was tired of being my own worst enemy, and I'm still tired of it. So everyday now I try to stay positive. I am still not sure if depression is something that you can control, but I know that you can make it so it does not control you.

Going into more details could be pages and pages worth of boring things I know you don't want to read, so I will leave you with this: you are wonderful. No matter who you are, where you come from, and where you end up, if you are struggling with any sort of situation like mine I can assure you it gets better. I'm no doctor, but I have seen people do amazing things, and live on to tell their stories. No matter who you are you need to learn to live with yourself, because at the end of the day the only one looking you back in the mirror is you. Find what you love whether it is people, hobbies, or both and hang onto them. Life is too short to hold yourself down, to tell yourself that you are not worth it. Living with yourself is a learning process that never really stops, but the more you try the easier it gets. I think the most beautiful thing about life is that no matter dark things get, the sun always comes up the next day. Know that there are people out there who care, and never let your inner voice be crushed under the weight of life.


No such thing as “too screwed up”.  

Saturday, February 22, 2014

A Reflection on Horror




      So I spent my Valentines day watching The Conjuring with one of my good friends, and all the while they were acting the way people usually act when they watch something scary (holding breath, hiding behind hands, reacting to jump scares, etc), I was calm. Afterward I told my friend that the movie did not scare me, for which I was bombarded with a barrage of “whats” and “hows”. I told them that the concept of the movie was scary, but in general the execution of horror movies just don't scare me anymore. When they went home for the night I couldn't help but wonder why that is, and this is what I came up with.

     I used to hate horror movies. When I was Zeke Jr. I was unable to even walk through the horror section of a video store without freaking out. See when I was little I remember see a child's play trailer (Chucky the killer doll for those who didn't know) and from then on I hated dolls and horror. Being in the dark terrified me, dolls terrified me, and horror movies would just induce anxiety. My mom used to always watch scary movies with friends over and I just hide in my room until the movie ended, sometimes having to brave my house to go the kitchen and get good while ignoring the sounds of terror coming from the TV.

     Over the years I have started to notice a change. It was when I went on retreat with interact my senior year that I really noticed it. We were showing scary movies late at night (as is custom), and the movie was of course: Child's Play. The whole room was gasping and hiding their faces, scared of this foot tall ginger doll, but I was just laughing. This caused me to start reading more horror novels, play horror games, and brave my age old fear of watching horror movies. As people around my looked at horror as something that made them physically scared, I used it as an escape. Now I'm not saying that I am a horror movie aficionado or anything, but I just love the genre now.

     My own personal theory is that as life has put my through the ringer it let me take more solace in these dark worlds. The serial killers, demons, and monsters on the screen on in a book are pixie's compared to the real life obstacles like uncertainty, aging, and the future. I'm not ashamed to admit that I have been in a downward spiral recently, I've had to go to the hospital for my depression and that is something I am working through now. All this being said I have come to respect horror for what it is, how people like me write about their lives. People who write and make horror, for the most part, are timid individuals whose minds are abnormal and twisted in ways that society might deem crazy. So they write, like rappers write to escape their lives, and theorists write to make a change.

     Coming to understand my fixation on the horror genre has actually helped me learn a lot about myself, I am even dabbling in writing stories with a horror tone for my radio show. Along with my love of comics, video games, dance, etc. it has just shaped a big part of my personality and helped me relate to those like me. So the reason you wont hear me scream in a horror movie theater isn't because I am some macho dude who is unafraid of anything, quite the opposite. To me the world of scary stories is simply a picnic compare to the real world that haunts us everyday.


     So what are you really scared of?

Friday, January 17, 2014

An Introspective way to start the new year



New Year's is supposed to be a time where we reinvent ourselves, where we take all of our mistakes and internalize them so we don't get a chance to make them again. However as of late it seems like I have been so guarded against making mistakes that I have shut out the outside world as a result. It has been a long time since I have posted anything and for the 5 people that read this I apologize. Things have been hard for, in such a way that I have had to come to terms with aspects of my personality that I never really wanted to own up to. So now I am caught in a place where I feel I am on the brink of something amazing or terrible hidden behind a respective door 1 and 2, and I cannot tell which door has the answers I seek.

Last year being my first full year of college I finally accepted that I am an introvert, and it saddened me greatly. Not that there is anything wrong with introverts but I always considered myself the opposite. Due to things like my dancing I was really able to come out of my shell and interact more with people without worrying about the impression that I making, but it was all for naught because now I just feel like I never want to leave my room. I still do all the things I want to do, but the moment it ends I just want to retreat back to my own space, because at the end of the day the world scares me and we are all caught up in our own bubbles anyway. I'm not clinically depressed or anything (or I might be, who cares) I just had to own up to myself. So this year will be harder, somehow I am going to need to learn to be a good person again, to be a good friend again. I feel like I have been lacking in these departments as of late because for the most part, I cannot really stand a lot of people. I love my school and it is full of good people, but many of those same people never learned how to: shut their mouths, be considerate to how others feel, or understand that more exists outside their personal sphere of influence. So as I spend more time outside I find less and less reason to stay there (outside as in with others, not just outside in general). I get so sick of people that I start to doubt myself, maybe there is just something deeply wrong with me, some state where I just cannot emotionally handle being around people for too long. Either way I am done dealing with dumb situations, stupid drama, and he say she say crap. I'm too old to be dealing with high school situations, I'm just trying to ace my classes and move on.

Another thing is that this year there are a lot of artistic projects that I want to do. I want to write a comic, songs, a better radio show, and make dances. I decided to stop worrying about how things will tie into my future in long run and just start living. Holding yourself back for any reason I think is cowardly, being afraid to take a chance at living, and it bugs me. Everyone has their reasons for doing whatever they do, but if you quit playing music because someone told you it will never make you money I think that is dumb. The world is full of possibilities to do whatever at any point and giving up a passion because it may not get you down the path you heard is best is idiotic. Obviously I am just being the bad guy here and I know that life does always allow for everything we want, I have just seen a surprising amount of my generation struggle with something that also personally applies to me. When the dust settles we should all just strive to be happy with the person we are, and if you give up a part of yourself how happy can you be?

There is no rhyme or reason for this post. I have just come to realize how truly lonely I am, not that I do not have amazing friends, but the amount of people I can actually talk to and stand seems to dwindle more and more each semester. I am almost halfway through college, and I want to have something to show for it. I want to help people, to inspire others, to be a voice that people can respect (not trust per say but respect), and to create a way for people like me to feel like they are no alone. This is me whining about stuff I know a lot of people go through, but they would never say it so I will. It is a new year so it is time to do new things. Live life and appreciate what you have but always strive for greater. Don't put up with mess you don't have to because whether you are a social butterfly or shut in you deserve to be to walk your own way.


I still don't know why I do this, put my mind on display for all to laugh at and criticize. I am sure I will come off to few as troubled and a few more as an arrogant prick, but that's not the point, and if that’s all you get from this well...sorry. I guess I just...don't care anymore. About how I come off, how you view me, or how broken you think I am. I have always been aware that I'm probably a terrible person at heart, truth be told a lot of us are. The difference is that I am trying to do that right thing. To be more honest with people, whether I like them or not, and to be more honest with myself. 2014 will be more personal make it or break year, after this I will hopefully have a plan for what comes next. Until then I just hope I can survive. Welcome back the Star World, you didn't ask for this, but here it is. Happy New Year.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Just Listen




            I spend a lot of time listening to other people’s problems, in fact it is one of the reasons I study psychology. I want to help people, like Spiderman and Batman minus the masks and tights. So I sit with an empty mind and open heart listening to the lives of those who trust me with their business. I am not therapist yet but I can assure you that with me your thoughts are as sacred as my own. You who has also had to throw down with life in the ring does not to explain your tears to me for I have been there.

Just listen

Can you hear it? The sound of a one way conversation? The sound of a soul pouring itself out like golden lemonade out of a crystal pitcher, do you get the picture? When have you ever heard something so honest? Not since you were a child crying in your parents arms over how you don’t fit in at school. Not since you questioned your own sanity, looked in the mirror and said “I am done arguing with my reflection.” Not since you realized that you will never be “that guy” or “that girl” so you took out the crayons of your inner mind and started to draw a picture of who you really are.

Just listen

Is it clicking? Does it connect like Legos, stacking higher and higher until you finally have a ledge to stand out on and see the world? Do the puzzle pieces fit, muddled parts of a whole slowing being drawn together like magnets showing you an image of the truth? How does it feel knowing that when door opens and life floods out that the negative feelings do not have to be absorbed into your bones, that you can just let the dam break and wave goodbye to dark portions of the past?

Just listen

What are you listening for? We are all flawed and that’s the truth, but do you have the gall to listen to your best friend tell you about a wrong turn they made on the road of life without backstreet driving? The world is not new nor is anything that lives on it. Everything you judge has been judged before, everything you hate has been hated before, and everything you fear has been feared before. As you stand there and judge me I stand as I always have. Hands in my pockets and eye’s looking forward, for unlike you I have no reason to hate my own shadow. I can wait. I can wait until you are done picking me apart piece by piece because funny thing about sponges, they always put themselves back together. Are you done? Good.

So just listen, because now it’s time for me to speak the truth.