Depression

The sad passing of Robin Williams this week has sparked many discussions about depression. This is good. More attention needs to be paid to mental illness. I was especially struck by one article that I read that talked about depression being the cause of someone's death, not suicide. It is a very valid viewpoint and one I feel that society should adopt. Here is the link so you can check it out:

http://www.tomclempson.com/2014/08/robin-williams-did-not-die-from-suicide/

Some of the comments that I have seen have made me want to share my own story. I've only ever told this to one other person, and not even all of it. So why not share it with the entire world, right? But it's something that I think people should know because depression can be very hard to understand if you yourself have never suffered from it.

When I was in high school, I definitively believed that depression was something you could just get over. I thought people, my friends, who came to school and said they were depressed were just looking for attention or trying to cause drama. I had bad days too. I got over them. I tried to look for the positive, and I always pulled myself out of my funks. With no other frame of reference, I thought my friends were the same way, so I never took it seriously when someone said they were depressed. Honestly, I didn't really think depression was even a real thing.

In college, things started to change. Nothing in my life went wrong per se, but I began to feel down a lot. There were days when I would skip class just to stay in my room and sleep. I felt like I was slowly sinking into deep mud and there was no way to pull myself out. This went on for several years.

The day after my 22 birthday I woke up and wanted to die. There was nothing wrong in my life, everything was going great with family, college, and friends. Classes hadn't even really started yet (my birthday is early in September), so I wasn't under any pressure. And yet I woke up and felt such an overwhelming sense of hopelessness and panic from the hopelessness that I immediately crawled down from my loft and began digging through my medicine drawer to see what I had on hand.

Luckily, I didn't have much, and my roommate was waking up. I set aside some melatonin supplements and ibuprofen and faked being cheerful as I chatted with my roommate and pretended to get ready to go to class. I had no intention of going, though.

As soon as my roommate left, I turned back to the pills. Knowing that supplements wouldn't be enough, I got online and began to research methods for killing myself. There is a lot of detail that can be found on the Internet, and I thank God for the suicide prevention forums that went into graphic and explicit detail about how horrible a death by pills is, especially if you don't have enough pills to guarantee that you will die. I definitely did not have enough pills, and I didn't want to go through so much horror, so I began looking up other ways.

This whole time, the day was going by. The sun was out. I saw friends in the hallway when I left my computer to go to the bathroom. Everything should have been fine, but my brain kept insisting that something was terribly, horribly wrong, and the only way to fix it was for me to die. I felt like there was no other choice.

Finally I came across a method that seemed like it would work well. I planned to go to the hardware store and pick up what I would need the next day. Settling on a method weirdly made my brain relax a little bit. A decision had been made. This was going to happen.

This moment was the first time, in the entire day, when I felt that something was wrong. I don't know if it was because I had made a plan and my brain could relax because it thought things would be over the next day or what, but suddenly I was able to think that this was not normal for me. I still had an overwhelming urge to end my life. But I also knew that something was wrong. I immediately called the school psychologist. I was put on anti-depressants and began twice weekly counseling sessions. Nothing ever really came out in the counseling sessions, though, and that is my point.

I have never felt that way since, and I hope I never do again. I am constantly paying attention to my mood, but I know that that may not be enough. For me, it came out of the blue. There was no reason for it, no cause. Something went wrong in my brain, and that was it.

This is what people need to understand. Depression is not something that a person can control, any more than they can control cancer, or diabetes, or heart disease. Depression is an illness that someone gets.

Looking back, the scariest thing for me is that I had no control. No other thoughts. There was nothing I could do to stop it. It came so suddenly, and I was completely convinced that there were no other options. Looking back, I can see that there were options. But when it was happening, no. I had no control over my brain, and that is absolutely terrifying.

5 Erotic Novels That You Should Read Instead of Fifty Shades of Grey

 The craze that is Fifty Shades of Grey has been plaguing our bookshelves for several years now. It is unfortunate that we put such a piece of crap out there for people to read as "literature," especially when there are so many better options available. People like Fifty Shades of Grey because they think it pushes the envelope with its scenes of sexual dominance and submission. Truthfully, it was one of the tamer books that I have read as I state in my post, Fifty Shades of Meh... Not Impressed. The sex scenes actually bored me. That's not easy to do. And the writing... The writing was so bad... I have no words.

If you are looking for something to read that sends those little forbidden shivers up your spine, then steer clear of Fifty Shades of Grey and check out some of these other choices instead:

The Bible

Believe it or not, The Bible is full of really steamy stuff! Sure, it reads like a history text rather than something written for entertainment, but if you stop to think about what is being described then I guarantee that you will blush. For those of you looking for that "scandalous" BDSM edge that Fifty Shades of Grey supposedly has (it doesn't), then The Bible has plenty of that too. And it is more accurately portrayed for the historical time period. 

Kushiel's Dart

Jacqueline Carey's epic masterpiece is one of those fantasy series that should be placed high on a pedestal with other timeless works. The story centers on a young women pricked by Kushiel's Dart, an affliction that causes her to experience immense pleasure from pain. Her society is divided into several houses, each with a different sexual proclivity. As the only person of her kind, this young woman's services are highly sought after, and she ends up embroiled in a political plot that ends up with her being exiled to the far corners of the world. She faces many dangers to return and warn the ruling powers of the plot and imminent war. This book is packed with action, very kinky sex, and it features some of the most elegant and beautiful prose that I have ever read.

Sleeping Beauty Trilogy

The sex in the Sleeping Beauty Trilogy will make you cringe. Anne Rice has taken the original story of Sleeping Beauty and turned it into one of erotica's classic novels. Before it received the Disney treatment, Sleeping Beauty was a much darker story. The prince does not kiss the sleeping princess to awaken her; he rapes her. Anne Rice takes this horrific theme and extends it into three novels worth of graphic sex and abuse. Sound awful? It's basically the same thing as Fifty Shades of Grey as far as the abusive relationships. However, Sleeping Beauty is actually written professionally and has a plot. 

Anything in the Romance Section

Think about all the times that you have gone to the bookstore. Have you ever seen that huge section labeled Romance? Any one of these novels is better than Fifty Shades of Grey. I guarantee it. Mainly because these books actually had to go through a rigorous manuscript submission process. Then they were edited and proof read. They weren't just pulled off of a fan fiction site, slapped into a binding, and tossed onto shelves. Read something that is an actual book and not a lazy pile of talentless crap.

Fan Fiction that is Actually Good

Technically this is not a novel, but too bad. There are some very talented amateur writers out there, and they are releasing their work for free on fan fiction sites. Now, you might encounter some duds when you visit these sites, but Fifty Shades of Grey is a dud anyway, so what do you have to lose? Best of all, your chances are extremely high for finding a little gem somewhere that will not only be written decently but will also have a plot. Much better than the drivel that is Fifty Shades of Grey.

Needle in a Haystack

I wrote this back in high school, and it needs some work. Still, I like the concept and may develop it into a series of shorts or even a full book (of course).

Needle in a Haystack

The body was slumped almost gracefully over the small writing desk. It was the first time in his terminated life that Count Halrick Melborne had ever looked graceful. His body overflowed from the chair in gently rolling waves of fat, and his once ruddy complexion was made fashionably pale by the coldness of death. His eyes were open, and where once they had been a pale azure, now they were like chips of ice that matched the sparkling shards of a broken wineglass lying on the rug. It was a beautiful and poetic death; it would almost seem as if the count had died of a heart attack. But, then again, there was the knife protruding rudely from the count’s back to consider.

“I fetched you as soon as I found him. I know you’re here to relax and get away from the city, but I didn’t know who else to turn to.” The young maid wrung her hands nervously and looked out from behind a protective curtain of lank, dull brown hair.

“I’ll forgive you this once, Mena.” Lucky smiled to take the sting out of his words, but the smile did not reach his grey eyes. Running a hand through sable hair, he stepped closer to the body. As a thief, he was no stranger to death, and he could understand why Mena had called him of all people. He was, after all, the man who had found and killed her brother’s murderer. It had been an accident at the time, but still.

Carefully, the thief stretched out one long-fingered hand and touched the body just where the knife protruded. He pursed his lips in puzzlement, and stepped back until he stood beside Mena. Idly, he scratched his head.

“I’m not used to being on the side of the law. But…well, I suppose the first question to ask would be, what killed him?”

“Lucky, there’s a knife in his back.”

“I see that, but do you notice how little blood there is? That’s wine on the floor. The count was dead long before he was stabbed. So what killed him? We can’t even call this a murder until we know that. Also, who would be vengeful enough to stab a corpse?” Lucky looked around the room and nodded to a closed door. “Where does that lead?”

“To Lady Ursula’s quarters.”

He walked over to the door and jiggled the handle. “Is it always locked?”

“Usually. The Lady and the Count haven’t so much as spoken to each other much since their son was born. But when I got here this morning, it was open a little ways. Someone must have closed it when I sent for you.”

“Huh.” Lucky glanced at the count’s bed. It was neatly made. “You didn’t touch anything?”

“No.”

“Well, the count obviously didn’t indulge in any…activities last night.” Grinning lasciviously, Lucky dug a bent wire out of his pocket. Inserting it into the keyhole of the door, he jiggled it around for a moment and triumphantly pushed the door open. He stuck his head into Lady Ursula’s room, but only looked around before withdrawing and closing the door.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that the Lady did enjoy some late night antics.”

Mena paled. “You don’t think…?”

“It’s a possibility. If the lady preferred her lover to her husband, it’s entirely plausible that she would try to get him out of the way. The door being open is very suspicious.”

“But you said it might not be murder.”

Lucky shrugged. “It might not. Then again, it might. I really want to find the person who stabbed him. Their motive could be interesting. But for now, let’s visit the dear Lady Ursula.”

“Uh, well…” Mena hesitated. “I really should be getting back to my chores.”

“Right. I’ll talk with you later then.” They left the room, shutting the door carefully behind them. Lucky walked quickly toward the entrance hall of the mansion, hoping to find a servant who could direct him to the Lady.

He reached the grand staircase leading down to the hall and paused as raised voices floated up to him. Mentally, he saluted Lady Luck, his own personal deity and namesake. It would appear that his search for Lady Ursula was over before it had a chance to begin.

“To hell with that!” a man raged, “I want it now! None of this damn investigating! You will give me my money, or so help me…!”

“How dare you speak to me that way? I am your mother! For god’s sake, your father is dead! Show some compassion!”

Standing at the top of the stairs, Lucky cleared his throat.

“Who the hell are you?” Lord Halvard Melborne snapped. Lucky opened his mouth to reply, but Lady Ursula cut him off.

“He’s the investigator, dolt! Am I correct?” She glared at him suspiciously.

“Uh,” Lucky stammered, “You’re correct.” He descended the stairs.

“You look somewhat familiar…where have I seen your face before?” Lord Halvard turned away, muttering to himself. Lucky winced; there were wanted posters for him all over the country.

“Ah! Have you ever visited Clarissa’s?”

Recognizing the name of a popular brothel, Lucky smiled. “Guilty as charged, I’m afraid.”

“I knew I liked you.” Lord Halvard beamed. His previous bad mood seemed to be completely gone. “But now, about this investigation. Is it really necessary?”

“The count was an important man with important friends who will be curious about the suspicious nature of his death.”

“He was stabbed, wasn’t he?” Lord Halvard’s morbid curiosity shone clearly on his face. Lady Ursula was pale.

Lucky hesitated. There was no sense in telling them more than they needed to know. “Yes, he was stabbed.” But that wasn’t what killed him.

Lord Halvard waved a bejeweled hand nonchalantly. “I don’t give a damn who killed the old bastard. I want my inheritance.”

“You inherit quite a lot, don’t you?” Lucky smiled disarmingly.

“Everything. I inherit everything.” He rounded on his mother. “And the first thing I’m going to do as count is get rid of you.” Turning on his heel, the young lord stormed out of the mansion.

“Quite a temper that one has.” Lucky turned to Lady Ursula. “May I ask you a few questions?”

“I suppose. If you think it will help. But I will tell you flat out that I didn’t kill my husband.”

“Oh, I know that. You were much to busy last night to worry about your husband.”

“How…?”

“I am a very good investigator, Lady. Who were you with last night?”

Ursula shifted uncomfortably. “He’s a servant.”

“A servant? That’s quite a comedown from a count.”

She snorted. “Not really. At least Alexander has a decently sized…” She froze, eyes wide in shock. “Forgive me. I should not speak with such vulgarity.”

“I find it charming.”

The Lady smiled nervously. “Is that all you wanted to know?”

“No. The connecting door between the count’s room and yours was open when the body was found, but closed and locked when I arrived. Do you know anything about that?”

“No. That door hasn’t been opened since I conceived Halvard. How strange. Is that all?”

“I have one more question. May I have the body?”

“What?”

“I would like to examine your late husband more closely.”

“Please. I may have been married to the man, but he was not my husband. You may mutilate his body in any way you wish.”

“My thanks.” Lucky turned to leave, but Lady Ursula stopped him.

“You will be staying here tonight?”

“If I don’t solve this murder today, yes.”

She nodded. “I will have the servants prepare a guest room for you.”

Lucky bowed and left the hall. After a slight hesitation, he decided to leave his examination of the body for later. He would spend his time questioning Lady Ursula’s lover instead. It would be interesting to compare their stories.

It took Lucky half an hour of wheedling with the maids and another half hour buttering up the cook to track down the elusive Alexander. It turned out that the boy was a groom whose love affair with the Lady Ursula was the most openly kept secret in the mansion.

The stable was dim. For a moment, Lucky stood still, letting his eyes adjust. A soft nicker to his right made him turn toward his gelding, Jackpot. He slid his feet sideways so as not to bump into any unseen objects and held his hand out to his horse just as a pitchfork whistled past his head and buried itself in the floor where he had been standing. Lucky lunged forward, placing Jackpot’s body between himself and his unseen attacker. Mentally, he thanked his Lady Luck.

Footsteps pounded in the hayloft above him. Lucky leapt out of the stall and scrambled up the ladder. He saw the dim shape of a man hiding in the shadows before a pile of straw was thrown into his face. Sneezing convulsively, he scratched frantically at the dirt in his eyes as a body tackled him. They rolled through the hay until there was emptiness below them and they fell from the loft. Lucky twisted in midair so that his attacker was under him when they crashed into the floor.

Breathing heavily, Lucky staggered to his feet and looked down at the broken body of the young man who had tried to kill him. Slowly, Alexander opened his eyes.

“Why…?” Blood frothed at his lips; a broken rib had punctured his lung.

“I am sorry. I didn’t want to kill you.”

Alexander closed his eyes wearily. His breathing gurgled gently as larger bubbles spilled out of his mouth. “You! I…saw the assassin…he came in…through Ursula’s window.... It was...” Alexander never revealed the murderer. Blood frothed out of his mouth as his eyes dimmed.

Lucky slowly bowed his head. “No witnesses,” he whispered. Giving Jackpot a quick pat, he left the stable.

Lord Halvard stood just outside holding the reigns of his palomino stallion. “Detective, tell that layabout of a groom to get off his arse and attend me.”

“I’m afraid I can’t, my lord. Alexander is dead.”

Lord Halvard stared at him. “What the hell happened?”

“He fell out of the hayloft,” Lucky shrugged.

For a moment, Lord Halvard just stared. Then he grinned sadistically. “Probably got a little too feisty with one of the maids. Serves him right; he was a lazy bastard.”

Lucky nodded absently, then sighed. “My lord? May I ask you a few questions about your father’s murder?”

“The hell you cannot!” Lord Halvard’s temper snapped. “The bastard deserved what he got, and if I was facing the man who did it right now, I would shake his hand and offer him half the inheritance. Good day to you.” The young lord stomped off, leading his horse into the stable.

“Interesting,” Lucky murmured. Shaking his head, he walked into the mansion.

The entrance hall was empty. Lucky looked around, for a moment unsure of what to do next. No incriminating evidence had manifested and the only witness was dead. Granted, Alexander had attacked him first. Lucky sighed. He was not looking forward to facing Ursula over the death of her lover. Perhaps it could be avoided if he busied himself with the examination of the body.

He half ran up the stairs to reach the count’s bedroom. Opening the door, he strode in and began swearing. The body had been moved to lie on the bed. More importantly, the knife had disappeared.

“I thought it would be easier for you to examine.” Lucky whirled to face the side of the room hidden by the open door. Mena stood beside a cabinet, wringing her hands. Lucky’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he stalked toward her. She shifted, putting herself more firmly in front of the cabinet.

“Mena….” He growled warningly.

With a strangled sob, she dashed away from the cabinet. Lunging, Lucky just managed to catch her arm. He dragged her back and threw her into the chair that the count’s body had recently vacated.

“Stay there,” he snapped. Then he turned his attention to the cabinet. It was well made, but the lock was a cheap thing. He inserted his wire and had it open in a trice. Inside gleamed the missing knife. He removed it, and held it up. Mena buried her head in her hands.

“Why, Mena,” Lucky sighed, “Why did you stab him?”

“He raped me! The bastard raped me! And then he laughed. When I saw him there, dead, I couldn’t help myself. I had to get some sort of revenge! Please, Lucky, please believe me! I didn’t kill him!”

“We’ve already established that the knife didn’t kill him.” Mena hiccuped and looked on hopefully as Lucky moved to stand over the body. “I wish you hadn’t moved him.”

“Then you believe me?”

“Yes.”

She threw herself out of the chair and into his arms. “Oh, thank you, Lucky! Thank you.”

He pushed her away. “I want you gone, Mena. Leave this place. You know that to defile the body of a noble is a crime. Go back to the city.”

She hesitated, then nodded and left the room. Lucky sighed and shook his head. His attention focused on the body in front of him and his eyes narrowed.

“Let’s find out what really killed you,” he muttered. Deftly, he stripped the body and examined every inch. His hands gently probed, searching for wounds that the eye could not see. Below the count’s right ear, his fingers found a slight swelling.

He drew back and turned the count’s stiffened neck to view the area in the light. A tiny puncture wound marred the skin. He touched it again, and then stood back, smiling slightly.

 “Looks like nothing more that a bee sting. That’s the mark of a good assassin,” he murmured to himself admiringly. With a grin, he left the room.

Lucky prowled down the hallway until he reached Lord Halvard’s small suite. The door was conveniently unlocked, but he still took extreme caution slipping inside. Shutting the door behind him, he gazed around. His eyes lighted on a writing desk, and he approached it slowly. Sitting openly on the desk was the item he had been searching for. It almost looked as if it had been planted. Except there was a half-finished note in the young lord’s handwriting that mentioned some vague plan to murder the late count.

Snatching up the note and the other item, Lucky left the room and quickly descended the stairs to the entrance hall. Lady Ursula and Lord Halvard faced each other, once more arguing. Lucky quickly stepped between them.

“Lady. Lord. I have solved the mystery. I know who murdered the poor count.”

“Good man,” Lord Halvard stated, “End this damn investigation so I can claim my right as count.” Lady Ursula sputtered indignantly at this statement.

Lucky shook his head. “I’m afraid you won’t be the count of anything. You see I found this in your room.” He held out the letter. Lady Ursula snatched it from his hand and quickly skimmed the contents. Her eyes blazed when she looked back up at her treacherous child.

“How could you? He was your father!”

“That letter doesn’t mean a damn thing! Yes, I wrote it, but I did not kill my father.”

“Oh,” Lucky said, “I think you did.” He held out his other hand. In it was nestled a thin silver needle. “Do you know what this is, Lady? I believe you do, Halvard, since you used it to murder the count. But for the Lady’s benefit…. It is a hollow needle. Filled with serpent venom. The needle was inserted into the count’s neck, just below the right ear. Very little blood would have been spilt, and he would have died within seconds. What say you to that, my lord?”

“I have never seen that thing before in my life.” Lord Halvard spoke quietly, aware that his life hung by a thin thread.

“But it was on your desk, next to this letter planning your father’s death.”

“It isn’t mine!”

“Lock him up!” Lady Ursula gestured, and two liveried armsmen appeared on either side of the young lord. They grabbed his arms and led him away, shouting.

“No! I didn’t do it! That damn woman wants my money! She gets everything, now! Everything! Damn you! Let me go!” His shouts died away. Curious servants returned to their duties until only Lady Ursula and Lucky remained in the hall.

“Thank you,” she said.

“It was no trouble,” Lucky replied, but he held out his hand. “I would like to be paid now so I can get on my way.”

The lady shook her head. “Your horse is already being saddled. You will find your payment in the saddlebags. Here. This is for your...extra trouble.” She handed him a small, heavy velvet bag. He opened it and peered inside, then raised an eyebrow.

“It isn’t half the inheritance,” Lady Ursula said, “But I thought you deserved something special.”

Lucky closed the bag, hiding the fiery diamonds within from sight. He bowed to the lady, and then strode outside. Jackpot was saddled as the lady had promised, and his saddlebags fairly bulged with gold coins. Lucky shook his head. No, it wasn’t half the inheritance, but it was a fortune for a thief from the city.

He climbed into the saddle and swung Jackpot out the gate onto the main road. After walking for a bit, he slowed the horse to a stop. Leaning down, he slid the small silver needle into a hidden seam in his boot. Beside it rested other, similar needles. Clicking to Jackpot, he continued on his way back to the city.

He had lived on his own since he was a very small boy and had learned many skills. He really was a jack-of-all-trades; policeman, judge, thief, forger, ...and assassin.

Life Sucks, So Write Write Write!

Things have not been going my way recently. I've been applying for numerous teaching jobs and have only gotten a single interview (didn't get the job, though), despite the fact that many of the schools I am applying to are places where I sub almost every day. Apparently my scores on a psychological test are too low. Um...ok...so the fact that the students love me and seek me out outside of class to get extra help does not matter. Teachers requesting me as their sub does not matter. Nope. One test, and if I don't score high enough, my application is not even looked at. Wow.

BUT, there is a silver lining to all of this! My frustration with teaching has led me to focus more on my writing. It seems to go in circles like that. With the rest of this summer and possibly next year, I am going to attempt to write some new short stories as well as share some old ones. Short stories are a particular weakness of mine. I have trouble limiting the plot and character development to anything less than a novel. Seriously. When asked to write stories in elementary school, I always ended with "To Be Continued" because my plot would get too complicated. And even with that, the stories would end up being around ten pages, a number that no fourth grade teacher anticipates reading from a student.

Long story short (ha ha) get ready for some experimental writing. Best of all, this is interactive! I need your help! If I want to grow and develop as a writer, then I need some feedback, so please leave your thoughts in the comments section. I would love to know what you think. Also, I will shortly be starting up a cooking blog, so get out your oven mitts and prepare for some not so fancy food from the Untalented Cook. It's going to be a blast! Don't miss out!

2013 The Best of Times, The Worst of Times

Foreword: It has taken me a long time to get up the courage to post this. Nearly six months. Half a year of agonizing. But because so much of this blog revolves around my life, it only makes sense that you get an idea of where I've been the past year and a half. I originally meant to post this Jan. 1, 2014, but I wasn't ready. I don't think I'll ever be ready, so here goes nothing:

It has been a crazy year. Part of the reason that I haven't written anything in such a long time is because so much has been happening. But now we are approaching 2014, so it's time to say goodbye to 2013. For this purpose, I am going to list the best and worst things that have happened to me this year. Some of it will be pretty rough. And some of it is awesome. There are a lot of stories that I will write more about at another time. But for now, here is 2013. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

As a note, this particular blog is almost more for me than it is for you. I need a way to express what has been going on. So if you enjoy having a look into my life, awesome, but if you are one of those people who is going to claim that I'm looking for attention, then kindly go fuck yourself. You don't have to read if you don't want to, and some of this is going to get a little angsty and possibly TMI. This is your warning. Get out now if you don't want to deal with that.

Bad news first.

1. My parent's divorce was finalized.

2. My parents are moving out of our home. Therefore, I spent Christmas packing all of my belongings and throwing away all of the things and memories that I could not find space for in my apartment. Merry fucking Christmas. It is especially hard because we all helped to build this house. It is sort of customized to us. I at least feel like it is a part of me, and I am losing that. It breaks my heart to look at my empty room. Plus I feel completely homeless now because there is nowhere for me to think of as the family home.

3. I walked in on my dad in bed with the woman he left my mom for.

4. My car was hit the day I moved to Wisconsin.

5. That day also turned into Tequila Night in which five of us finished a 1.75 of tequila from Costco. It was not good.

6. I informed my bosses that I would not be returning for the 2013 school year in September and spent January to June dodging their attempts to convince me to stay. Many people tell me I should be flattered, but it was really just aggravating.

7. I maxed out my credit card.

8. I have had more fights and arguments with friends and family than I have had in years. A lot of it is because I am so stressed out and wound up from constantly hiding how much I am breaking right now. But that is no excuse and I'm sorry.

9. My grandparents on my father's side passed away within 72 hours of each other.

10. Felix got out of the apartment and was gone for three stressful days.

11. Mocha got out of the apartment and was gone for five stressful days.




The BEST of Times:

1. I fell in love.

2. I moved to Milwaukee and am living with two of my best friends as well as only a short distance away from two more of my best friends and boyfriend.

3. I got a job substitute teaching and I LOVE it! The kids are fantastic, and even though I hate getting up insanely early, I love going to work.

4. I am still making money off of my writing.

5. Tequila Night. It was awesome.

6. I stuck to my guns and left my job rather than give up what I wanted in order to help people. Even though I was offered a huge raise. I'm much happier where I am now.

7. I am successfully living on my own, paying bills, and being a (semi) adult.

8. I found time to work more on my novel. Five chapters away from completing the first draft!

9. I started reading for fun again. I used to read 100+ pages a day in middle and high school but lost the drive when I was in college and reading for classes. I really enjoy being able to sit down with a book of my choosing again.

10. I lost 18 pounds, and I'm still losing.

11. I'm happy :)

What are some things that have been going right for you? Share in the comments!

The Whole Marriage Before 23 Thing

So, the past few days have seen a lot of posts on Facebook about a blog written by a young woman claiming that there are better things to do in your twenties than get married. And there have been several responses to her blog.

Here is the original article in case you haven't read it yet (I avoided it for awhile because I hate getting into this kind of stuff, but eventually I caved. Join me in caving! Join meeeeeeee!):

http://wanderonwards.com/2013/12/30/23-things-to-do-instead-of-getting-engaged-before-youre-23/

And here is the response that I read:

http://youngcons.com/must-read-young-woman-gives-amazing-response-to-the-23-things-to-do-instead-of-getting-engaged-before-youre-23/

I'm sure there were many other responses, but this is just one that I read and had some thoughts about.

First of all, the only thing that really annoyed me about the first blog (after I had a chance to think logically) was that the young woman kept referring to our favorite social media site as The Facebook. Nobody calls it that. Maybe old people trying to be hip or in the know, but nobody else. That was a little irritating to me, but other than that... 

Here's my point, and something that everyone needs to realize. We all mature at different rates. As a teacher, I cannot tell you how many kids I have come into my classrooms who are on opposite sides of the learning curve. I have kids in sixth grade who act like they are in high school, and I have other kids who smear poop on the bathroom walls. We mature at different rates, and that means that we will all live our lives differently. There is no perfect age for anything. 

The amygdala is the part of the brain that helps control whether we make decisions based solely on emotion or on reason. It is not fully developed until about age 25. And that's a rough generalization. In truth, it can reach full maturity at just about any point during the 20's. Or even earlier. Or later. It depends on the person. I'm pretty sure mine was developed when I was 12, and my 21 year old sister still has a ways to go on hers. Not really, but you get my point. Age is by no means an accurate way to judge whether or not someone is a fully functioning adult.

There were many things in the original article that were upsetting to me. I mean, make out with a stranger? Date two people at once and see how long it takes to blow up in your face? These things do not seem like good ideas. To me. But I have always been pretty mature for my age. Just by reading her blog, I could tell that this woman is not. In fact, I would put her mental age at about 19-21. And that's ok. In fact, kudos to her for realizing that she is not ready for marriage. She has lots of things that she wants to do with her life, and even though many of the things on her list seem quite childish to me, the fact is that they are right for her and her maturity level. She is not ready for marriage, especially if she is having anxiety attacks based on her friends' relationship statuses. Come on. No one else's life and decisions should make you feel bad about your own life, and if it does then you clearly have some self-discovery that you need to do. Good for her that she's out in the world doing it.

Now, she did raise some interesting points regarding the divorce rate for young couples. It is unreasonably high. I put this down to lack of maturity, and that is something that you may have to discover for yourself. After reading only the one post, it seemed to me as if her blog was primarily about her adventures of self-discovery and living her life to the fullest. Who's to say that having a bad marriage, getting divorced, and learning from it is not a part of someone else's journey? Personally, I'm all for living with someone for several years to make sure it works before getting married, but other people are not as logical as I am and tend to jump right in. We all make mistakes, but I truly believe that the biggest mistake is regret. 

The problem people are having is that her blog pretty much condemned everyone who has gotten married at or before the age of 23. That's not right either. There are plenty of people out there who are mature enough at 23 to get married. I have several friends who are very happily married with children. I also have several friends who got married and then within two or three years got divorced. Clearly they were not ready, but others were. And that brings me to the second blog.

This woman is happily married and she points out that most of the things on the list in the first blog can easily be accomplished with a spouse. In fact, she claims that many of the things on the list are more fun with a spouse. I totally agree with her. I would much rather travel the world with the love of my life than alone. Not to mention, the people at the DMV intimidate me, so I always get nervous when I have to renew my passport. I would be much happier having Kevin there with me as backup. In fact, most of the things on the list sound to me like they would be way more fun with a companion.

But we have the same problem with this second blog as we do with the first blog. There is a lack of understanding that we all mature at different rates. I understand why this second woman would be offended by the original blog. After all, she has made the choice to get married, she is happy, and she is living her life the way she wants. Then here comes some stranger telling her that she is in a cop-out marriage and that her whole life that she has built is a mistake. I'd be mad too. But what the second blogger needs to understand is that a sarcastic and negative response (though soundly reasoned for the most part and more accurate than the original blog) is not the mature, grown up thing to do. Then again, we all use our blogs as emotional outlets at some point...

That got a little off track. Bottom line: We all mature differently at different times. We are all going to live different lives. What is right for one person is not right for everyone else. Many people are not mature enough at 23 to get married, and many people do not realize this, so they rush into a marriage that is not right for them. On the other hand, though, many people are ready. They have taken the time to think about their future and what they want. They have discussed with their partner their desires, hopes, dreams, and goals, and they have formed a partnership that will work to make their lives the best that they can be. 

Don't condemn someone for being at a different point in their life, even if they are the same "age" as you. Live your life to the fullest, the way that is best for you.