Reddish Musings

So many decisions to make, and so very little time to make them in.  I have 2 semesters left in my undergraduate career.  Two semesters in which I need to make straight A's to bring up my dragging GPA.  I like to joke that falling in love messed up my GPA, but I think I can honestly say that I would not have gone to class the first two years of college even if I had not met my then-boyfriend now-husband.  The first two years were Grade 13, and they were entirely pointless to the furtherance of my education.

That said, my GPA is floating around a 3.45, and I'd really like to see it bumped to at least a 3.5 before I start my applications.  This is where making a name for myself really comes into play.  I need to study hard for the GRE (I just registered for it!) to show that I am more capable than my GPA would have the reviewers believe.  I need to make nice with my professors so that they know my name and will be inclined to write me a few letters of recommendation.  And because I'm tired of being the quiet girl who makes A's on the tests but never wants to say anything out loud.

But there are bigger battles than the GRE and my current grades.  I have to decide Big Things, like where I want to live and what I want to do.

Sure, I've gotten by saying "I'm going to be a clinical psychologist!" for a while now, but I haven't been able to answer the question, "But who do you want to counsel?" Because it's hard!  I've grown up as an overweight, middle class white girl who got a full ride scholarship to an okay school.  I know I deal with anxiety and depression, and my sister has autism, but overall I haven't been exposed to a great deal of psychological variety in my life.

Part of picking a graduate school that is crucial is finding a school with faculty that have similar interests to yourself.  Well, what are my interests?

I talked a lot about studying autism as I was growing up, but I think I've come to realize that I am too close to the issue.  I don't know if 17 years of dealing with an autistic family member would help me  or hurt me when it came to helping families deal with these issues.

I probably would not deal well with autistic children on their own.  I could probably assist in helping families deal with autism, in helping them understand that it's not their fault, and they should not feel guilty for being overwhelmed by the disorder sometimes.  That would be nice.  But can I make a corner market on that?  Or should I focus on something more vague?

My current drive is helping people feel okay with themselves as they are.  That sounds fruity and vague, but I think I can boil it down into more scientific terms.  I'm probably the biggest fan of cognitive-behavioral therapy.  I believe what you think about yourself determines how you feel about yourself, and informs how you act.  I believe anxiety and depression are rooted in self-destructive thought patterns that are self-reinforcing.  I believe that some aspects of yourself are unchanging, and some aspects are completely within your realm of control.  AND I believe that adolescents in particular have an absolutely terrible time picking out what they DO have control over and what they do not.

I think I could do the most good reaching out to the "forgotten" class of adolescents.  There are degrees for child psychology, and adult psychology, but few seem to focus purely on that transitional period where multitudes of problems seem to either begin gestating, or fully blossom forth.  Eating disorders, self-injury, depression, anxiety, suicide, additions, sexual promiscuity, bullying, sexual questioning and shame at the answer, overly risky behaviors all over the place.

My heart goes out to gay or questioning kids who can't find a safe haven to accept themselves.  I cry for girls like me who can't figure out what to do with their bodies, so they let them lapse into obesity or work them to frailty and death.  Social injustice makes my head and heart hurt because I know it's more than just a societal problem.  It hurts every single person in the neglected, prejudiced, hated categories, and they are all PEOPLE who deserve the same rights and respect and chance at happiness that everyone gets.

So... maybe that is where I want to focus.  But how do you quantify that?  "At-risk youth" is probably a good term for it, I guess.  There are so many layers in each of these though.  There's depression, anxiety, poverty, personality, age, developmental psychology, etc.  And faculty at these schools tend to focus on narrow targets within these realms.

But if I'm honest about my passions, and I try to match with different topics the faculty study, I should be okay.  That's just where my Personal Statement (how do I write that? Argh.) comes into play the most, I guess.

So I'm working on it.

I'm deciding to work backwards.  Instead of finding schools in places I like, I'm looking over the list of schools that are APA certified, going through the faculty and the funding, and the programs and everything I can get my hands on, and seeing how the schools sound.  Then we'll look at locations.

Unfortunately, that means I may have to move away from my family.  Which is something I haven't even tried thinking about.  I used to strive to get out of Texas ASAP when I was a kid, but I never stopped and thought about the guilt and difficulty that would go into leaving the family behind for a while.

And thus, the future awaits, and I just have to figure out how the heck to get to it.

Speaking as someone who has shown the ability to type upwards of 130 words per minute, I am going to shock even myself with what I'm about to say:

Perhaps it's just the spirit of Finals Week that has be waxing philosophical about the room in my mind, but a thought occurred to me just now.  Here I sat, gazing idly at a review sheet for a comprehensive final in Abnormal Psychology, feeling the words hit my eyes and bounce away into nothingness.  No matter how hard I try to focus on a textbook, a review sheet, my notes, any written word that I want to absorb into my comprehension, I just can't seem to do it.

All right, so, I have something slightly embarrassing to admit:

I don't like taking showers.

I've never liked taking baths or showers.  Even as a kid, I remember it always being something of a struggle to convince me to get clean.  The problem is not that I enjoy being dirty.  No, the problem is now, and I suspect it was then, that showering has always seemed utterly pointless.

My first point: Showering is unproductive.  What can you really DO in the shower?  You can sing, I guess, but Oscar Wilde would argue that, since music is a form of art, that is useless.  You can brainstorm, MAYBE.  But unless you have some kind of magic writing device that functions in water-based environments, you won't really be able to retain many of your ideas.  I guess you could hold a debate, if you had someone willing to stand in the bathroom and argue with you while you lather up.  But overall, nothing really gets done.

Some people get a therapeutic use out of showering, but I just don't.  I can count on one hand the amount of times I've gotten home at the end of the day and looked forward to hopping in the bath, and enjoyed my time under the spray.  So, for some, I guess, there is a use, but it still feels entirely pointless.

"But Red," you might say, "isn't getting clean productive? Isn't shaving and shampooing and washing an end result?"

Maybe.  But it's not a very good result, because... and here's my second point:  Showering does not fix the problem it intends to fix. Sure, it might get you clean for a second.  But, living in Texas, I know firsthand that sometimes I start sweating and feeling gross again before I am even out of the shower at all. And maybe your cleanliness lasts for a few hours, but before you know it, you've gone outside.  You've produced sweat, your hair has gotten oily, your legs have gotten prickly, and the next day you're back where you started.  It's maddening to me.

I just can't really get behind it.  However, society demands that I not stink, and I understand that request, I just wish showering didn't feel like such a time sink.  It feels like a chore, not something I enjoy.  And the older you get, the more stuff you have to do while you're in there!  As a kid, it was basically: Soap up, wash off, get out.  Then it was: Soap up, shampoo up, rinse off, get out.

Now?  The ritual goes: Shampoo hair, rinse out, wash face with daily pore cleansing lather**, rinse off, condition  hair***, rinse out, soap up with scent-free dove soap because my skin is terribly allergic to everything, rinse off, shave armpits, shave legs, tend to lady bits, rinse everything off, dry off, apply lotion, apply powder...

And I'm sure with this list I am not even doing half of the things a Modern Lady is expected to do.  Because I don't care about all of that. All of this is JUST to maintain the absolute minimum amount of health and cleanliness I can bear.

** Face Wash Sidenote:  I used to have perfect skin.  I'd get a pimple every now and then when I put my face in my hands too much, but I never experienced this "acne" thing, and barely had a greasy face or head at all.  Then I got the Mirena IUD.  Sure, 5 years of not worrying about spawning SexFruit is great, but if I still had insurance I would contemplate getting it removed simply because of what it has done to my HEAD.

My hair gets greasy within hours of showering.  It used to be bouncy and full of wave, and now it's often flat at the top due to the oiliness that I can't seem to get rid of.  And my face.  Ugh, my face.  I feel like I need to wash it every hour on the hour.  I can feel it now. I can feel my face getting oily and it just won't stop and aa;sdfja;slkfj aaaaaugh.  There's gotta be something I can do. Maybe a hormone balancing act? I don't know, but it's driving me nuts.  Anyway.

*** Conditioning Sidenote: I HATE CONDITIONER.  When possible, I buy shampoo/conditioner combinations, because I detest the feeling of conditioner in my hair.  I was raised to wash the feeling of soapiness completely off of me, and conditioner never really leaves your hair.  That's the point of it.  I understand that logically, but some minor obsessive-compulsive aspect of me goes berserk when I can still feel it.


*deep breaths*


Anyway.  Showering.  It's my least favorite chore, one that I am making myself pay attention to and do daily, because that's what adults do.  It's always the last thing I want to do during a day, which is the real reason I normally take them at night.

It's just not fair that everything else in my life can get washed while I attend to other things (dishes, laundry, etc.), but I can't just hop in a cleansing suit and get on with my life while it goes through a cleaning cycle?

Come on, Science. Catch up!

I'm going to do something shocking.

I'm going to defend the Twilight series.

...okay, back from puking in my mouth a little.

All right, so, much like any other popular young adult fiction in this decade, the Twilight series are under attack from "concerned" parents.  These parents are so concerned with what their children are reading that they are challenging the books' rights to be in public libraries.

Now, part of me quails at the idea that this means Twilight and Harry Potter are somewhat related to each other.  In fact, according to this article, Harry Potter books aren't even in the top 10 of challenged books anymore, meaning Twilight is beating the HP series at something.  Even if that "something" is really "pissing off Christian parents who can't be bothered to actually investigate what their children read," that just isn't right.  Come on, pastors! Keep preaching the evils of black magic over the evils of lame vampires!

I kid.

Whenever I hear about books being challenged, banned, or burned, it makes me angry.  I don't care what is in the book, how much I like or dislike the material, the author, the characters, any of it.  The idea that someone out there can decide what is okay for me to read angers me.

But these parents have been on crusades since public libraries began, I imagine. There have always been "edgy" authors who endorse sex, magic, drugs, alcohol, and anything else that these people feel will cause their children to immediately join gangs and go to jail without passing Go.  There will always be misguided parents who feel that the only way they can keep their children in line is to purify the world around them, rather than encouraging their children to make good decisions based on their shared morals. It's sad, really.

The idea that libraries should not be allowed to carry these books at ALL shows no trust in your children, no ability in yourself to monitor what your children read, and an obnoxious arrogance to assume you can control OTHER people's reading choices.

However, like I said, these little wars against books have been happening for a long time, so I don't really waste my time getting worked up over every indictment against a novel with dirty things in it.

What upsets me this time around is that some people are supporting it, only because it's Twilight.


I get it.  I do.  I don't like the books, either.  But before we all grab our torches and pitchforks, remember who you're giving the power by joining the fight.  You are not giving power to the intelligent elites on the internet.  You are not giving power to people with good taste.  You're giving power to people who argue that Pokemon endorses communion with demons.  You're giving power to people who think Harry Potter  teaches you how to kill people with "Latin Words."  You're giving power to people who wanted to ban Shel Silversteins A Light In The Attic because it had "a suggestive illustration that might encourage kids to break dishes so they won't have to dry them."

If you don't like Twilight, that is completely okay.  You're not alone.  But I'm pretty sure I read some books that other people don't like. I also know that it's way more fun to bicker about taste in books than it is to all read nothing but The Bible* all day.

So, encourage people to read better things.  Don't ban them from reading the bad things.

~Red

*Nevermind the part where The Bible has a lot of magic, sex, drugs, and murder in it, too.  Somehow that always gets overlooked.

I've got a problem.

There is one question I get asked on a semi-daily basis, and yet I have still been unable to come up with an acceptable answer. You'd think all the practice I get fielding the question would allow me to have some kind of stock answer, but one just does not seem to be viable.

Office drama has always seemed absolutely ridiculous to me. There's no point in getting up in each other's faces when the very environment separates us into our own little cubes. My goal when I work in an office is to sit in my cube, not talk to anyone, do my job, and do it well. It is not to earn appreciation from the bosses, it is not to show off my ability to learn faster than the average office citizen, it is not to have how many tasks I do a day counted and touted to the rest of the group.

It’s odd, but I can tell a good day from a bad day very easily.

 A good day, I wake up, I take my pills, I brush my teeth, I read my news and webcomics, I do reading for class, I pack up and I go to class.  

A bad day?  I’m lucky if I even wake up.  But eventually I do, begrudgingly so.  I take my pills, but here’s where the difference comes:  A day can be decided on whether or not I brush my teeth.  

It’s gross, I know, but it’s a sign of the problems I sometimes face.  I do struggle with mild to moderate depression, and part of that mental disorder is the inability to do even the simplest of things, especially those that need doing.  

On a bad day, I look at my toothbrush and I think, “Eh. I’ll do it later.  Maybe after I eat something and read a little.”  Then I mope to my computer chair, huddle under a blanket and sulk about going to class until I either go late, or skip it altogether.  

So my theory is this: If a day can be determined by how I feel about brushing my teeth, can I beat the game by taking that out of the equation?  If I take my pills and brush my teeth, even while I’m sulking, will that jumpstart the process of other things that must be done?  Will I accept my duty and go to class anyway?  Will I do my homework?  Will I put down the WoW for long enough to live life?

It’s an interesting theory, at any rate.

So, little kiddies, brush your teeth.  And drink your milk, and take your vitamins, and do your homework, and clean your rooms.  Not because it makes your mom happy, because it just might be good for you after all.  Be health and head conscious!  Like me, the overweight and depressed college student who hates college!

Cheerio!

So, anyone who has been in contact with me recently has become somewhat aware of a few things. One, I hate school. Two, I'm getting married this Halloween, and I'm trapped in the craziness of wedding planning. Three, life is hard.

Basically, I let myself get trapped up in a ball of negativity that has been rolling along steadily for a few months now. It's not fun, and I refuse to stay with it any longer. In its place will be writing, listening to music, reading, meditating, happiness in the face of stress.

I will do what I must to make myself go to class, even if that means blocking out every stimulus besides music and the lecture once I get here, with the magic of my MP3 player. I will plan my wedding without fear of failure and without making myself stress to death. Instead, I will be grateful that I have been given the chance to marry someone so perfect for me.

I will not snap at my friends, or be unfriendly towards anyone. Being negative is the lazy response to life, and I have been coasting along on the tide of anger for too long. Behind every jerk who pisses me off is someone who probably has a problem I could care about, but hating them because of surface behavior is so much easier that I forget what I am.

I forget who I believe in, what I follow as my personal code for my life, and what the heart I've been given feels about people. I am not a negative person. I am not happy when I view the world through rage-colored glasses, and I have grown tired of living in that state of being.

So I'll stay to the sidelines in class, but I'll be here. I'll turn in my assignments, I'll do the readings, I'll pass the exams. I'll plan my wedding, I'll hang out with friends, I'll play my games and read my books, and I will keep my eyes open for what other people need while I do it. I have always been able to juggle many lives concurrently, it just happens that sometimes I get selfish and begin to feel angry at what I used to love doing.

I am only human, after all.

Oh, and I need to find a job or win the lottery. Good luck on that, right?

Class will be starting soon, but I wanted to write something, to document the turning point of this race I've been in. Wish me luck. The idea of turning off my MP3 player and listening to the dribble coming out of the other students' mouths is really not sitting well with me right now, but eventually I must.

*whimper*

Antisocial powers activate!

All right, so the pity party is over.  I successfully went to all of my classes, despite my campus' best attempts to make that impossible, I bought my books, and I'm back home after eating less than half of a chicken calzone for a late lunch.

College and I are not getting along at the moment. It’s not something that’s easy to define, considering that I’m still pulling above a 3.5 GPA, despite my hatred of most of my classes/professors so far. In fact, regardless how much I realize that all of this nonsense is just high school again, with more pretension and unnecessary tedium (I didn’t even think that was possible), I still feel completely unsure of my every move.

I am good at school. I am a nerd. I like learning. The problem is that I hate inefficiency and I often feel paranoid that everyone knows something I don’t. Like, I do well on tests that everyone else does poorly on, yet they all seem to be doing better at this entire “college” thing than I am.

What sense does this make? I have a major, I have an idea for what I’d like to do with my life, albeit not all hammered out. I know I’d like to work as a counselor somewhere. Teaching seems like a good thing to do, as well, so maybe I just need to make up my mind about my chosen career path. That’s something most people in college have to do, so I’m certainly not behind in that regard. I’m engaged, I’ve got my own bills and debts to pay, and I make them monthly with no real problem. I’ve taken out loans, I’ve bought books, I’ve passed classes, and I’ve managed to not throw my life away by making dumb choices, so that puts me ahead of the curve somewhat, right?

So why do I feel so cripplingly inferior in every class I’m in? My confidence disappears when I step foot on this campus. I get jumpy, I feel lost no matter how many times I’ve been to the same classroom, and I’m constantly looking at every person walking by. I don’t even know many people on this campus, why should I be checking every face that goes by?

It just feels like everyone else is playing a different game. Including the professors, sometimes. It’s like, I’m here to learn and get my career going and get on with my life. Other people seem to be here to engage in the College Process, to play a game with credits and advisors and professors and acceptance letters, and I just want to get out. My goal is to reach End, get my diploma and get a life of my own. Their goals all seem to be to rack up as many accomplishments and inconsequential pieces of trash on the way as possible.

And the advisors here? Suck. So very hard. Every time I enter one of their offices with a question, I leave with a gray-area answer and more questions than I had going in. They are the anti-helpful. Not only that, they also mislead you on what it takes to get what you’re trying to do. One says you need to minor in an area to be able to teach it, another says you need to major in it. Some say, “Maybe you should change your major altogether, except you don’t really have to, because one guy didn’t, but maybe you should.”

Thanks for that golden advice, Mrs. Vague.

Maybe the problem is just how alone I feel. I recognize people in my major classes more and more, but I don’t… I don’t have any friends here. I’ve never been good at the friends-at-school game. I always had one or two in grade school, but that tapered off when the guys discovered girls. High school was just a game of being friendly and involved with groups at school, but I never had anyone to hang out with after school.

Now I have people to hang out with after school, but I can’t find anyone to relate to AT school. I’m here for the majority of my day, and I’m alone, stuck in my thoughts and concerns about inadequacy. Also I’m constantly exhausted. It’s just so tiring, life.

I just want to be done. I want to have a steady job, have some freedom, instead of constantly fighting back the stack of papers and homework that chase me down the halls. Instead of worrying about how much I hate my classes. Instead of being crushed by depression and anxiety, to the point of not being able to get out of bed to go to class, no matter how much I worry about my grade in doing so.

The older I get, the more my goal in life seems to be to not be bothered and not be noticed. I just want to get things done, and not be a hindrance to anyone else’s comings and goings. I want to blend in.

But I don’t. That’s not what I want, it’s just what I’ve been reduced to. I want to help people, I want to care, and I want to feel that passion I had for learning and getting grades and reading and helping out and… I want to live again.

If only this place would stop strangling me, I think I would be able to. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do anymore. I mostly just want to sleep and cry.

I don’t think the Celexa is helping yet.

So, I've been through a few things in the past month or two since I posted on this dealy-o. I guess I kind of let it slip my mind... or really, I let myself ignore the urge to process and write about what was going on and instead focused on clinging to my problems like some kind of backwards life preserver.

But that's neither here nor there now, is it?

We're in Florida at the moment, Fiance and I. Sitting in our hotel room, because I have become too anxious and stressed to drive around in this frantic traffic in a new town (for me). We decided to take this day to relax... if that's even possible.

I've been having a very difficult time unwinding my little ball of stress lately. It's like it has become a part of me, something I love to lean on, because it gives me an excuse to feel as miserable as I do sometimes.

Without going into agonizingly melodramatic detail, it appears I should probably schedule myself an appointment with a psychiatrist at some point in the near future, perhaps in an effort to get some anti-depressants or anti-anxiety pills. Or at least to talk about my problems to someone who won't immediately make me blame my parents for everything, like my only other therapist did.

Being in a Neuroscience class, we went over what happens in a depressed brain. As we pored over the chemicals and the feelings and signs, something clicked. I had joked around about being "a little depressed" before, but it's been hitting me in longer, harder to shake off, chunks of time. I kept thinking that maybe "after this paper" or "after this project" or "after the finals are done" or "after we get off the plane and get the car and check into the hotel," maybe then I can finally relax and be happy.

Unfortunately, it doesn't appear to work that way. It would seem that I'm just unhappy, for no conceivable reason. I've been eating poorly and shirking off household responsibilities, all because I feel like sleeping and moping all the time. I've been sleeping more and feeling less rested, which just adds to the trouble.

I can go from happy to a stressed-out wrecking ball of anxiety in only a few seconds. When one thing doesn't go right, I'm spent. If I have to be around people for more than an hour, I'm exhausted, and so I've been ignoring my friends and being less emotionally available to Fiance. Something needs to change, and so it should. And I think it will. 'cause I don't want to live like this anymore.

Oh, also, my grandfather died. It has nothing to do with all of this, except adding to my stress level. He was my mother's father, and we all have very few happy memories with him. He was somewhat... negative towards my mother and my father, and towards everyone in his life. So all I can say is I hope he is finally happy wherever he is, and I hope my mother can relax soon.

She carried the world on her shoulders for the week he was in the hospital and near to death. Her whole family leaned on her through the whole experience, and you can really tell she needs some rest.

So... that's about all, really. I passed all of my classes and managed to come out with a high-enough GPA to secure my scholarship for another go-around. So now I'm going to focus on getting myself healthier in the head, and the body (which always helps with the head-bit, too), so I can tackle next semester without crying myself to sleep every night!

Fun!

Obama won.

Landslide, it would appear. Or at least very close to it.

McCain conceded with grace and dignity, and earned a modicum of my respect back. I salute the man for his service.

Yet I can't help but feel like crying. What should be a historic and momentous day of celebration is soiled by the hatred and disgust that those on the opposing side are spewing out. People saying we're all doomed, welcoming us to a Socialist nation, threatening to move.

I'm sorry. If you love America as much as many of the opposing side claim to, Democracy should NOT make you want to leave. You should not be AFRAID of letting the people speak for themselves. Perhaps you didn't win - disappointment is inevitable in these kinds of deals, but recognize what has been accomplished:

We have made progress in the seemingly eternal struggle between the races. We have broken many barriers this election season, with both African Americans and women making great strides in the political world. We have opened our hearts up, and changed many people's lives because we see the need for a new strategy in this country.

What we have now is not working. And the same old game of hate and fear did not work. But people will not let it go. People are clinging even more so to their vitriol, ignoring even their own leaders' pleas to accept Obama as their president, to lift him up in prayer even if you do not agree with all of his stands on issues. To follow the leader elect of our great nation, and help us all bridge the gap that has been bringing this country to its knees instead of keeping it high where it has once been.

I do not glorify America overmuch. But last night made me so proud of our country. Red states went blue. Some red states kind of went purple (Texas tried!), but people came together. There was no booing at Obama's victory address. There were tears, many tears. The man presented himself as someone with, as my fiance noted, the weight of the world on his shoulders. Looking into his eyes as he gave that speech, one could see how much he cares for this country.

I hold that I am a decent judge of character. At the very least, certain people rub me the wrong way. Kerry rubbed me the wrong way. Sarah Palin rubbed me the wrong way. McCain started to by the very end of things.

Looking into Obama's eyes, I almost completely give into the belief that he not only wants to change things for the better, that he really can. That not all of his campaign promises were merely platitudes to get himself elected. That he legitimately desires good for America.

You can find him flawed, most people are. You can disagree with his policies, that's what America is about. The freedom to say "I don't like that much." We speak with our votes and with our hearts here in America.

If you want to continue the discourse of hate, then please, make good on your promise to leave. We don't need that here, anymore. I am sick to death of the cries of "Terrorist!" "Socialist!" and many worse. I am shaken to the core at the fact that I could not look away during his speech last night for fear that some ignorant racist with a gun would assassinate him before he even got a chance.

What moral high ground do you really stand on when you cannot look a man in the eyes because of his ideals or his skin color? What righteous anger do you really have when you slander a man without knowing his heart? I know this plea is overly emotional, but I cannot help it. For the first time, my heart is breaking for my country.

I wanted today to be celebratory. Despite having a test I've barely studied for, I woke up today feeling that things were going to change.

Then I saw... amongst my own acquaintances, the bile spilling over into every status update, every bulletin, every newspost.

We wanted change. But you people won't budge. And my heart is breaking. You've not only crushed the American spirit, you've crushed the American dream. When America fails, it will not be Obama's fault. It will not even be Bush's fault.

If you can't find a way to cooperate with your fellow man regardless of ideology and religion, then you have broken into the halls of American History and stolen the book written on what the American dream should be. You have taken it, set it ablaze, and replaced it with the doctrine of the Ignorant American. Clinging bitterly, yes, bitterly, to your outdated hatred and refusing to look out the window to see if its raining or if the sun is shining.

Because to you, if "that one" is on your television screen, it must be raining. If a woman somewhere is having an abortion, it must be raining. If a gay couple somewhere is holding hands, it must be raining.

And it is you who hold us all back. Those of us who have seen past the rain to see the sun streaming through the clouds. Those of us who can look past the horizon of rainclouds and see that the day will shine again will forever be hindered by you, sitting in your dank living room, stewing in your own filth.

We do not believe in your words, but you will not join us on the journey. Even if the rain is pouring, there is a path to the sunshine. But because the path is not covered with the right layer of brick, or because the wrong kind of people will be walking beside you, you'd rather we all just drown. And since we are bound together by the chains of kinship in this country, we will.

I'm sick of it. I have empathy for many types of people in this world, but I cannot feel pity for you anymore. I feel angry, hurt, and so very frustrated.

We have places to go and people to be in this world. You deserve to have your say, because this is the United States of America, but if what you say has not changed in the past few decades because your thinking has not updated either, then please. Just stop. You are only hurting all of us.

So, up there with abortion in the ranks of issues that will continue to divide Americans on "moral" grounds yet will never actually be cemented in stone (because then nobody would come out to vote), is gay marriage. Some people are for it (equal rights!) some people are against it (one man, one woman!), and each have their logical and illogical reasons backing them up.

But the phrase that gets tossed around a little too much for my comfort is that we need to "protect" marriage. The sanctity of marriage is under attack! One man, one woman! O noes!

Let's look at this, for a moment. Why do people start attacks and thus wage wars? There are normally a couple reasons: The Attackers want to destroy it, or the Attackers want to take over it.

In the first scenario, it's pretty easy to wave that off as nonsense. The LGBT community (and however many other letters they've added lately - first the rainbow, now the alphabet. Share, people!) has little interest overall in wiping out marriage as an institution. There are those who hold that marriage should not be a government thing, that it should be put back into the hands of religions and privately dealt with so as to remove this whole debacle anyway, but the majority of people are not saying they want it gone for good. I mean, think about it - if they wanted to wipe out marriage, they wouldn't be petitioning to be granted the right to GET married.

That would be like wanting to destroy the Christian church by reading the Bible and paying tithes every Sunday. Given that "Marriage" isn't even an actual location or group of people, there's no way that infiltration would do any good, even if that was their goal.

So, no, they aren't out to destroy it.

Now, are they out to take it over? Again, let's think about this: In the history of wars, overtaking a country normally had one of two or three outcomes. Either the people who used to live there were destroyed and the Attackers take over, or the people are permitted to stay there, either to be assimilated into the new society or to pay tribute to remain as they were.

Let's talk about the first idea: Do the Gays want to storm in, wipe out heterosexual marriages, and claim marriage as a Homosexual-Only institution? No. That's what Heterosexual fundamentalists are doing right now. Most couples just want the right to be married, regardless of whether they're in the current phase of their relationships to do so RIGHT NOW. They want the tax breaks, the hospital visitation, the next of kin rights. They want adoptions, they want to live a normal, happy, monogamous life. That should make opponents of the "Homosexual Agenda" happy, since they normally point to how adulterous and dishonest the dating gay world can be. How dare they want to settle down and be boring like the rest of us? Buh?

So, that leaves the other option: Are the homosexuals attacking marriage in order to rule over it? Seeing that I have heard no legislative ideas that require heterosexual couples already married or seeking marriage licenses to pay tributes to the Gay Marriage Czars, I think not. Nor do they really seem to be hunting down straight couples in order to sway them to the gay persuasion.

Some war. It's really more like immigration. They want IN to the marriage world, not to take over it. They want to function in its society, legally, and get all of the perks of participating in it as the current citizens get. Civil Unions are really like visas, but marriage would be akin to a permanent citizenship being granted. And those gays living together? Well, I guess they're the illegals? It's a faulty metaphor, I'll agree, but it works for a little bit.

You can oppose to gay marriage all you like, and I can't do anything to stop you. That's your right, and I'm not going to challenge it. All I ask is this - whose marriage would really be endangered by the ability of some couple somewhere in the country to get married? Who would really be at threat in that scenario? The couples who can participate in society and have to deal with Homeowner's Associations and taxation and insurance policies just like everyone else? The kids who are adopted into loving homes instead of being left floating around in the foster system? YOUR marriage?

In short, my opinion still stays the same, albeit somewhat trite and abrasive: If you don't like gay marriage, don't get one. But no gay man or woman will be knocking down your door to take your wedding rings away from you anytime soon. So chill out.

I've been through quite a few experiences in my day. I went through almost all of my high school years glued to my laptop, playing World of Warcraft and chatting my days away with people from all over the world. It was nice, even if it was a tad bit... well, the word fake doesn't seem right. It wasn't fake, not to me, not then. They were real people, and we were real friends who cared about each other. I still keep in contact with a few of them, but now I know them by their real names instead of their characters. So we are now "real" friends, I suppose. I still haven't met them, though, so that makes them still pretty "imaginary" to those not in the know.

But anyway. In the midst of the chatting, relationships grew. Good friendships, and more. I had a few... oy, it seems almost silly to refer to them as "boyfriends" now, but I do have to admit that I felt more than a little bit in love with them at the time. So the term remains.

It was normally a gradual process - we would be in the same game channel, forum, or something, and make the same jokes. We would "get" each other. For one, it was just a lust of the moment. Someone was just paying attention to me, and I relished in it. We had somewhat similar tastes in music and movies and stuff, but there was nothing really cementing a relationship other than the fact that we were both looking for something. I'll refer to him as M.

M was Canadian, and quite a few years older than me. He also suffered from bipolar disorder, or something close to manic depression. He refused to take his medicines, and thus would be in slumps for days, treating me affectionately, and then ignoring my conversations entirely. I was a youth (15 or 16, he was 22), struggling to deal with life as an outcast, as someone different, and I realized pretty soon into it that I couldn't deal with his problems and shoulder my own. I spoke to a mutual friend about the problem, and he later found out that I had mentioned the medicines to her. That erupted in a pretty awkward, hurtful discussion after I had already broken things off with him.

A mistake, entirely. I knew that. But while I had been dealing with the burden of his depression and wondering if this was all I was meant for, I ran into another soul. This, this was N. N was also older than me - I was 16 at this point, and he was 20. A trend is emerging, no?

N was sweet. He was a Christian, something I had been lacking in M. He liked the same music as me, and some of the same books, albeit only on my "Christian" side, as I sometimes call it. I couldn't really share in my other indulgences with him, like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, heavy metal rock music, and enjoying a good dirty joke here or there. In fact, he was kind of Puritan-esque, I would later come to realize. He was very sweet, though.

He had helped me through the ordeal with M, and before I knew it, we were writing stories together and flirting back and forth all the time. We ended up deciding to try long-distance dating. He sent me text messages full of funny stuff. We talked on the phone all the time. It was amazing. I felt cared about, instead of just someone who happened to be there.

Then things got weird. It's hard to really describe the devolution of this relationship, being that you have to understand my game world a little for it to make sense. I played World of Warcraft, on the Horde, on an RP server. This means that we all played the game for the sake of the story, building relationships between characters and players, in and out of character, building upon plots and ideas while enjoying the quest mechanics set forth in the game.

N had originally played on the Alliance. But he had switched over, and started a Horde character to pal around with all of us, not just me. We both had different characters that took part in different storylines, with little reason to overlap much. We were still in contact with each other often, just interacting with different people most of the time.

He started wanting to know who I was talking to, and what we were saying, and what was going on, and what it all meant. He also started to become suspicious of me, I think. There is a phenomenon of those who engage in Roleplaying on the internet to also "cyber," through the voice of either their character or themselves, which basically means write out sex back and forth.

Now that I've been in a real-life relationship, I understand how kind of hokey it is, but trust me - when you're lonely, it's tempting to seek that kind of contact, that want, that value, from anything.

He started, not pointedly, asking after where I was. My character had begun dating, it's true. It was purely an IC (in-character, meaning only between our characters) relationship, and the fellow manning the character she had a total crush on was sweet, but not someone I knew really well. It was an innocent love story.

N also came to visit, once. He came down around the Christmas time, stayed in a hotel nearby, and I chauffered him around for about a week. It was a nice visit - he was chubby and cute and geeky, and he was a gentleman. Too much of one, really. After being so lonely, I was waiting for someone to come sweep me off my feet. To hold me, to tell me how beautiful I was, despite my weight problem, and to kiss me and treat me like a Queen.

He treated me like a delicate object he had no idea how to handle, so he best not try at all. Hugs were hard to get out of him, and they were chaste. There was one night where we cuddled on the couch by the fireplace, but that was it. So, nice, but... underwhelming, after all of the buildup of having a REAL BOYFRIEND who was coming to VISIT ME.

When the questions about where I was and who I was with began to become too much, I finally broke down. I called things off with him a month or two after his visit, which admittedly, he had paid for (we had paid for his hotel room). I felt bad about it, but it just wasn't working. He lived across the country from me, he was paranoid and suspicious, and it was driving me nuts. He even had the gall to ask how I felt about C, the boy who controlled my character's then-fiance.

Well, maybe gall isn't the right word. I had started to fall for C. He was sweet and kind, and slow to anger. He had a sense of humor and humility about him. He was also a broken human being, and God help me, I had the urge to Mother the hell out of him and save him from this cruel world.

C was my first love. To this day, I still wish nothing but the best for him, but I couldn't help him. He was also 20 (lol) and I was 17 I think around this point. We were together for 8 months. I remember that one. It started a while after I broke things off with N, but probably not long enough for his liking. *shrug*. I was young, my heart went where it pleased, and as a side note - N had been cybering with HIS character's WIFE behind my back since basically he started his character. He also tried to whip his e-penis out when one of my friend's characters was around him. While we were dating, both of these things. So, sexual repression and paranoia, much? ANYWAY. C.

My family went on a vacation around Yellowstone, and we took him with us, stayed in a big condo we rented for a week. I kissed him on that trip, tired of waiting for the right moment. Unfortunately, it scared him. He was too... I don't know. Damaged. My heart still breaks thinking about him. I have no romantic intentions towards him anymore, I just want someone to come rescue him from the doldrums that he lives in.

That leaves us finally with K, whose name also starts with C, but for ease of distinguishing, we will call him K. After things got too depressing with C - he was moving with his family, he was unwilling or unable to enroll back in school, but he didn't want to move nearer to me to start a job or education, so we were stuck still in a long-distance tango, and I realized that I just couldn't fix it for him. I was miserable, he was miserable, and it just... wasn't working.

He quit playing the game, so I hadn't seen him, his character with mine basically dropped off the face of the planet, so I just went back to questing solo and trying to remain friendly with everyone else I knew.

There was K. He had always been a member of the channels I frequented. He was surly. He was mean, in a funny way, and everyone loved to hate him. He was the one who poked fights on the forums just to watch people start squawking. It was fun for him.

Also, he was C's best friend before C moved. I met him when we picked C up for that trip. Just the once. He, also, was damaged.

I could write pages and pages on each of these people's roles in my life. K was probably the most frustrating of all of them, the final straw, if you will. He and I were like yin and yang. Where he was surly and pessimistic, I was full of e-hearts (<3) for everyone. Where he liked cussing and flaming, I liked smoothing things over with people. Naturally, attraction was inevitable.

We flirted up a storm. He would show me kindness he showed nobody else in that world of his. I would poke and tease him, and he would take it with a patience, again, nobody else got to see. It sort of evolved into that whole "But you don't know the real side of him!" thing.

It ended basically as soon as it began. He seems to follow this strange cycle of chasing me. We would flirt, we would discuss, we would stay up late chatting... until we decided to go for being boyfriend/girlfriend. Then we would promptly forget how to behave with one another. He would go stale and surly in discussions, then mix that with being overly caring and boyfriend-like. It was as though we were both trying way too hard, and it just strangled the thing.

Eventually, I decided against the ordeal, 3 months or so into it, and we called it quits. We didn't talk much for a while, as was my custom with people I had cut ties with. Then, months later, presents show up for my birthday, from him, and I start talking to him again. Same ol' thing. We discuss, we flirt, we tease, we banter. Things are good. I offer to come visit, thinking things are maybe going to be good this time.

I pay $900 for a trip to Mid-Western America, to be tugged back and forth with misleading clues for what felt like an eternity shoved into a week's timespan. I was told he didn't want to be in a relationship, because, for real, he said this: "Bros before hoes," in response to being friends with C, when months before, in our FIRST attempt, he had said "Forget C, I want this." When I visited, he had really stopped talking much to C, due to his moving, and their drifting apart.

Then he would hold me, we would sit close, he would wrap his arm around me and treat me like a girlfriend, only to tell me again he didn't want anything. He said he was attracted to me, but then he wasn't interested in the long-distance, and back and forth and back and forth.

I left heartbroken and miserable, uncertain of where we stood, and also pretty angry.

Another side note - months after that whole visit debacle, after I had already begun dating my fiance, K called around Christmas time. I didn't even know he still HAD my phone number. It was awkward, to say the least. He apparently has taken up drinking and being miserable. So it's probably best for both of us that I'm not there.

At this point in my life, though... I forgive him. It wouldn't have worked, and I guess we both knew it, I was just desperate for someone to love me already. I was willing to sacrifice education for almost all of these men. I was willing to throw away cheaper tuition rates to try to go to school in states (and COUNTRIES) I'd never lived in, forever away from my family. I was willing to sacrifice everything for love.

And all of these things came together today to make me realize something - They taught me how to know what I want. When I look at my fiance, I see someone who is kind, patient, giving, loving, forgiving, and a Believer to boot. He doesn't get angry, he has never been mean to me in any action or word (on purpose - he flails in his sleep). He was close to me (he moved from Florida to Texas just before we started dating... literally, like, we met on OKCupid, talked for 2 weeks, then he moved here and we were inseparable, and it wasn't for me that he moved). He is older than me. He is smart, he loves reading, he loves music, he loves drama without needing to cause it. He trusts me, and I him. And he doesn't lead me on and disappoint me.

For once in my life, I am loved the way I needed to be, and I am able to love back the way I longed to. We were watching a bad horror/zombie movie today, and I realized as we joked back and forth, and also when he was laying back on my stomach as we both read books of our own likings... this is all I want. I'm going to school, I'm pursuing a career I think utilizes the most of my abilities in dealing with people, and I'm marrying a man who makes me happy, and who is happy with me in return.

There's no gut-wrenching feelings of guilt and misery as I sit there waiting for an IM response from someone I'm not sure how to love. There's no teeth-tightening sensations of agony as my stomach twists as I realize that I am unhappy here. There's only hope and comfort as I know that no matter what the future holds, we can be happy curled up together.

This is incredibly lengthy, and probably dull to anyone who doesn't know me, but it was more of a needing to get it out than looking for an audience.

All of these internet trysts, whether I met them in person or not, they all had their hand in my formation of romance and respect for myself. I don't understand the internet the way I used to, now that I see what it is like to really be loved. I think some long-distance relationships work (hi James and Aria!), but for the most part - I wouldn't trade being able to rub my fiance's head while he shoots Spies in Team Fortress 2 for the world.