Thursday, February 20, 2014

My Confessional

So I've had this blog for a little over two years now and in that short space of time a lot of things in my life changed. I moved from my American home to one out in the foreign tropics. I've gotten two years older, which in and of itself yields its varying changes. I've changed schools and made new friends. I've gotten into volleyball, a sport that seems to dominate my life nowadays. I've fallen in love more than once and had more than my fair share of heartbreak and heartache. I've done some... not-so-great things. I've gotten into a lot of trouble with my parents, and am now thus trying to earn back a whole lotta trust. I've gone to the brink of just giving up on everything, and even trying to end my life. These past two years have felt like the longest two years of my life and here I am now. Problem is... well... I'm here now, but I don't really know how I feel about it.

I feel like the greatest battle that I've been fighting is that of trying to find Katrina and to really love her. Often, I feel like I've found her and I've gotten to embrace all of her imperfections and perks, but then something comes up that makes me stumble and fall and it's pretty much like I've lost her. I felt that way recently when Kody and I stopped talking. It's been quite hard for me because he was just kinda always there and I felt like if it was anyone right now that I could rely on, it would be him. However, by doing that I let myself down again because now that he's not around, I just feel really lonely I guess. It's often an empty feeling of being in a country so far from home and your true best friends and you're just the foreigner. To be honest, although he reminded me that he's still here for me, it's just kinda evident that he's happier without me around. He has his own friends and he's moving on without me and it's kinda like a hint that I should do the same. I'll admit that its a valid point, but the way in which our friendship broke apart and the time in which it did has left me searching again for who I really was.

I hate who I've become in the process- it's been an obnoxious way of living. I guess in order to put out an outward display of happiness, I've become really loud and jubilant. I hug everyone and I yell and I smile just a bit wider that I used to and I laugh REALLY REALLY loudly. But on the inside I just feel disgusted. I really dislike Katrina in every shape and form and it's been something that I've battled with since I was really young. Because of this front that I've put up, by the time I get home, all I can do is cry. Cry and cry and cry and cry and just release all of my frustration.

That's another thing that I hate about myself- I'm too emotional. It really is a good thing that I prefer to hang out with guys rather than girls because I deal with enough emotion within myself. I don't know if I can take any more. Often my display of emotion is misread and people automatically freak out but... I hurt a lot for various reasons and often my reactions to things aren't specifically regarding that situation, but rather that problem mixed with the emotions that have hung on the brink from other things, too. My reaction becomes a melting pot that starts to bubble over. It's cost me many relationships, be it friends, family and/or romantic and all it does is add to my frustration. I'm not a crazy person by any means, but sometimes when I start to cry and I say things that are just WAY out there, I look like it to everyone else and even feel like it myself. It hurts to know that because I haven't been able to find an avenue to channel my feelings properly that people that mean so much to me, but don't understand what I go through, will continue to distance themselves.

In terms of physical appearance, I'm not one to consider myself attractive on a regular basis. I tend to hide behind vibrant colors and large glasses that distract people from my physical features because while there are some things about me that I find beautiful, they're few and far between. A big part of that has been my weight and ANYONE that knows me well will say that I complain about it often. Currently I weigh around 156.5 lbs on a good day, but that's after an extensive diet that I've worked on and losing almost ten pounds. It's not the worst out there, and a good deal of it (I'm sure) is muscle but it still bothers me.

Often my idea of beauty is relevant to what the person I like at the time likes. Currently the general look is light skinned, long, curly haired, skinny, yet curvy with perfect teeth and radiant eyes. As for me- that's just almost the complete opposite of what I am and it upsets me. I feel almost like I've tried it all, from the diets and workouts to the braces and contacts and in the end I'm still left with 100% Katrina. In the end, it all boils down to just accepting that I'll always be Katrina and that I'm wasting my time trying to be someone else. C'est La Vie.

I often return to a solemn feeling inside that just kinda inquires as to WHY I'm here. Why I wake up every morning to a beautiful sunrise that hits the pool outside my window just right, why I breathe in rhythm, why everything around me moves when inside I feel like I've been standing still. Those thoughts proved to be dangerous only about 6 months ago when they materialized and became suicide attempts.

I remember distinctly when I opened the cupboard ever so cautiously and cursed at the fact that all we had were allergy pills and two pain relievers. I grabbed them anyways and hid them under my shirt. I locked my bedroom door and blasted "Starry Skies" by Jaden Smith on my speakers, stared into the mirror of my bathroom and kinda said my goodbyes to myself. It's hard to look back on, to think that I was so okay with leaving behind everything. It took a lot of time before I finally decided to swallow a mere eight allergy meds and the two Excedrin. I guess thinking back, I was afraid of death. After they went down, it was scary to imagine that I just did that to myself. Images of convulsions filled my head and I kinda just went to bed and waited for the worst of it to set in. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep, made drowsy by the medication cocktail and hours of crying that I'd done hours before. The worst part was waking up. I woke up. I just remember being angry on another level and I felt like it was my fault, the same person  that I was trying to kill was fighting to stay alive and it was an internal battle that I distinctly remember me to this day. Soon after, I tried for a second time, still within a 12 hour period of the previous one. I went back and took out the whole allergy carton and just the sound, that "snap, snap, snap..." of the pills being popped out of the cartridge made my skin crawl. By the time I took them, I had taken a total of 23 tablets of 24 hour medication. Unlike last time, however, I had to go out soon after and the car ride was when I felt the effects.

You could say I was high, I suppose, The word faded is probably the best term given to the feeling that I had. My vision was so hazy and it was almost as if either the world was passing by too quickly or I was in slow motion, but there was a noticeable delay between myself and time. My speech was slurring and I couldn't formulate words, so I stayed silent. But- the effects were't enough to do much more than that. At that point I just gave up. I told myself that I would have to push through for a little while and get myself out of the slump I was in.

One thing that I learned soon after those attempts was that I needed to have a little bit more humility and stop thinking only of myself. I realized that in an effort to rid myself of the pain in my heart, I was willing to rip out those of my mom, my dad, my brother, Waffle, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, Amber, my friends, and everyone else who loves me more than I even love myself. That's something that showed me how selfish I was being and it put a new twist into my head. With me gone, the world only stops for me; no one else. Yeah, they might grieve me for a while, but life still goes on and there would become a point when days go by without thoughts of me in their mind. And where would I be? Six feet under.

Less than a week later, I started volleyball. I threw myself into it whole-souled hoping to find an outlet and some fun. I soon started to train with my school's team and that's when I really started to hang with Kody. I guess that's why his friendship meant a lot to me because he saw in me everything that I wanted to destroy. He was the one that told me that I was pretty on my messiest days and gave me a shoulder just to rest on when those old feelings started to rise back and... sigh, I'm gonna cry as I type this, LOL. Sometimes he would just say something that made my day for no reason and on many of those days, it prevented me from trying again. I can therefore say that to me he was my rock in ways that I don't think he would've ever began to expect.

I wrote this confessional to let you guys know that when sit behind this keyboard and promote the Lowell Militia that never stands down and fought to be who we are that I'm not a perfect girl in any way, form or fashion. I hate to play the victim card, but I honestly feel that a good deal of my potentiality to be more positive and joyous as I grew up was ripped from me from the time the bullying set in. I can't even begin to describe how hard it was for me as a little girl to just be hated because of my skin color and the texture of my hair. That's all it was- factors that made me me and that I couldn't control. I often compare myself back then to myself now and the same things that I was ridiculed about I still fuss about today. And even though I've made the realization, I still struggle with it all.

One thing that I've been telling myself as old feelings ride my heart as I approach yet another birthday and I seemingly lose a best friend at a time where I might've needed him most, is to take each day as it comes. I wake up, prepare for school, arrive at school, go through my classes and try my best, play volleyball, come home, do my homework, read a little, go to bed. My attitude has a range on highs and lows and I try to manage my lows and sustain my highs the best I can and a good part of that has been reading and trying to work on my writing on a daily basis. I often feel like I'm not heard and so rather than talking I type and it lifts me up like nothing else.

Music has also played a huge part in my therapeutic regiment. I often find songs that spell out my feelings and reassure me that I'm not the only out there feeling this way and if they're finding a way to express how they feel, then so should I. I've also started to secretly see a counselor and she's always giving me new challenges; new ways to combat my feelings and to move on. I've realized that I have a lot of anxieties, one of which is that of being alone so I try to hang on to people like a safety net and thus settle for anything and all that ends up happening is that I get hurt. That's one of the ultimate things that I've been working on in order to start moving forward.

Life isn't easy- not for anyone. But one quote that has kept with me throughout this whole ordeal is the one by Vivian Greene that states "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass... It's about learning to dance in the rain."

I am Katrina Lowell- and this has been my confessional. <3
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