The Mystery Incorporated Gang always helped each other.
“I can do it myself!” This is one of the first phrases that children use. Independence appears to be one of the first lessons that we learn.
In many ways, being independent is a good thing. We are self-sufficient, confident, and strong. Functioning alone is possible as well as in a group. As the word implies, you are not (“in”) needing to relay (“dependent”) on anyone else.
Uplifting in both beat and lyric, this band refuses to let the hardship of the past hold them back from enjoying the future.
60. American Authors
Hearing ‘The Best Day of My Life” numerous times on the radio was my first introduction to the band American Authors. I enjoyed the song but did not think much about it. However, another one of their songs, “Believer,” really touched me. As I began to hear more of their songs, my admiration for their simple style and optimistic lyrics grew. That is why I decided to discuss them today for Media Monday. Hopefully you will have your spirit lifted a bit by their music like mine is.
This British driving sign states what I want to do right now.
This week has been so crazy. I began an internship, started a new job training, had a huge fundraiser for where I work, wrote for my client, and tried (am still trying actually) to finish a mystery party for this Saturday. Right now, only a few minutes are left before I must get ready for work.
Sometimes things in life are hectic. That can be difficult, but it can also have benefits. Today for Thankfulness Thursday, I am going to focus on the good parts of being busy.
Right now, I feel like a butterfly with the wings pulled off. Although I love my family and Minnesota, all of me long to be back in Oxford. Or at least somewhere where I am free to soar, grow, and learn. Everything here is stagnant, including myself.
Each day, my spirit seems to sink a little lower. I am trying to stay positive, but my energy is draining fast. Why is it that when we have little to do, we feel the most tired? Depression is a strange and crippling thing.
Being back home has been bittersweet. My family is amazing, and babysitting my little brother every day has been a joy (you’re welcome, Mom). However, I feel like I am going crazy without the intellectually stimulating and independent life that I left in Oxford. Depression is beginning to set in, making me even more miserable. What am I supposed to do with my life now?
Instead of complaining about my current situation, I am going to look at the positives in the past few days. There are many benefits to being home. This Thankfulness Thursday will be focused on these wonderful elements of being back in Minnesota.
I don’t know the first real thing about the dating game. I don’t know how to talk to a specific person and connect. I just think you have to go to person by person and do the best you can with people in general. – Jason Schwartzman
Last week, I met with my psychiatrist. Soft-spoken and white-haired, he encourages and converses gently with me in a way no psychiatrist has done before. As I chattered about my load of homework and increasing independence, his smile widened with relief. After months of therapy, I finally seemed to be ready to go out into the “real world.”
When I finished explaining my situation, he scribbled down a few notes before looking straight into my eyes searching for the truth. He asked several questions about symptoms. Used to this routine, I answered quickly with hopes of moving on to address other issues. As I honestly but swiftly replied to his wonderings, the tension left in his body eased out as he believed my progress. Then my doctor suddenly asked, “Are you dating anyone?”
Yesterday, I made an awful mistake. In the morning, I took the wrong medication. Instead of taking my vitamins, I swallowed my night pills that lower my already low blood pressure (to help with bad dreams) and make me extremely drowsy. In fact, this medication basically makes you look drunk with slurred speech, extreme fatigue, and in-cohesive thoughts.
Needless to say, my mother was not pleased. She truly proved once again what an amazing woman she is in so many ways. Not only did she drive me to school, she also came back in to take me to my dietitian and then back to school so I could watch a film that evening for extra credit. Although my mom spent her day caring for me, she remained kind and never blamed me for my medication mess-up.
Last night at supper, I excitedly showed my father and sister the best thing since sliced bread: my jar of PB2. This amazing creation is powdered peanut butter that is delicious and not as scary for me to eat. As I added water and mixed the spread, I explained excitedly “It tastes just as wonderful as I remember peanut butter!”
Eyebrows raised in skepticism, my younger sister snorted. “That means it must not be very good.”
I felt like I was slapped in the face. So because I have an eating disorder, I can no longer be trusted about the taste of food? Yes, my anorexia has confused my body but I still have taste buds. Can’t I have preferences or opinions about food?