of mondays and joy

experiencing fully fledged joy that isn’t mania as a depressed person is a strange experience. it’s very alien, and today has left me fulfilled yet super tentative of tomorrow, because i know something has to go wrong or back to normal, at least. it’s regression to the mean.

in the northern hemisphere (and now, all over the world too), the third monday of january is known as “blue monday” – the supposedly most depressing day of the year. it’s recognised everywhere and people really feel terrible and everything sucks, until tuesday. on tuesday, things go back to the way they were, and people no longer feel blue. for most people with depression, it doesn’t work like that. it definitely doesn’t for me.

i’m a happy person who’s depressed. i love people, and i thrive on the happiness of others. i adore belly laughs and tired sighs from days full of loving, but my brain also doesn’t make the neurotransmitters it needs to be making, so what we get from that equation is me. i rapid cycle between excessive optimism and damning despair far too much and far too fast. i’m dealing with it okay, though.

however, today has been a really great monday.  much like this one.

i didn’t get any sleep because i don’t get sleep, and had a really teary two a.m. i freaked out because i had so much to do including mailing transcripts for university admissions (keep those fingers crossed for me please!) and an interview for Lush. LUSH. The super amazing smelling, ethically brilliant and people focused brand. I was so stoked that I got an interview, but I was pretty sure it was all going to go to shit because of how my morning went. It was 21 degrees outside and I was sweating like a Christmas goat while trying to do my eyeliner because ya girl was anxious as HECK and also I was running late for a thing with a friend. It’s okay. I got there. Then the goodness began.

Jo bought me a hazelnut honey latte and I lost my mind because it tasted so good. We ran generic errands and I bumped into a storybook boy at the printing store. STORY. BOOK. As in curly hair big smile British accent story book. BOY. I sang to him about capitalism and he had a very cute laugh. I ran away because I’m an IDIOT and Jo gave him my number. He probably won’t text, but I’m glad I met him nonetheless. I have a boy to put in my stories now. I played with a Newton’s Cradle in a birthday store and got really giddy about science.

By DemonDeLuxe (Dominique Toussaint) – Image:Newtons cradle animation book.gif, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3717500

I then almost skipped out of my interview because anxiety, but went ahead and did the damn thing. I have a trial shift on Thursday! I am SO EXCITED. I then went to get some tea, paid for a short and got upgraded to a grande for free. YES. I then got free samples of cheese and of bread at Woolworths and bought a cheese and tomato baguette that surprised me with the best tasting basil & mayo I have ever had. My eyebrows also did the damn thing. I got home and napped for three hours, ate a pie for supper, found a blog that’s probably my new favourite (do check out Dora @ For The Goldfinches because wow – follow her on instagram too! She’s a joy.) and got invited over to swim with a friend tomorrow. It’s also MLK Day, so I got to smash down some microagressions regarding not being black enough, which was exhausting but necessary. I’m glad I did. Happy birthday to my biggest writing hero, Lin-Manuel Miranda, too! There’s a gif party on twitter if you wanna come. #gifTparty

I’m a bit sad that today is over, honestly. It’s been the best day that I’ve had in years. I’m grateful for it, but also hyper aware of the fact that everything has to swing back to the middle eventually. I learned about regression to the mean from Teen Wolf. I have a weird relationship with that show.

Despite how well today went, I still have the undercurrent of despair running through me, but I’m okay with it. It’s not the loudest in this moment, and every moment that my brain allows me to just be is one I am grateful for. I’m about to knock myself out with some heavy sleeping pills, and I’m really glad that I can. On Saturday, I didn’t think I’d make it to the end of the day. Thank goodness I did though. Who else would have taught that cute boy the capitalism jingle?

love and light,
shalom xo

S-a-t-u-r-d-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-y

Aloha, Scootonerinos!

That, friends, was a Louise SprinkleOfGlitter referenece. I think I’m starting a Youtuber greetings pattern here.

I’ve been really busy, and it’s quite ridiculous seeing that the things I’m busy with are little things that should not take too long to complete. Except if there are exactly 43 million of those little things that follow you everywhere. I’m not kidding, this grade eleven thing follows me into the shower  (don’t forget your physics assignment), into the bathtub (did you really think that your essay was due tomorrow?), under the blankets (oh, yeah, that rehearsal is today), and even in my tea. My schoolwork is working its way into my tea, and I can’t drink a hot beverage without thinking about the fact that I have an anthology due in two weeks.

On the topic of the anthology:

How it  works: You’re given free range on topics and you have to choose one that (a) you enjoy, (b) you can relate to, and (c) you pray you’ll finish. The project is assigned in January and is due in August. You have to write a preface of  1000 words, compile 3 songs, poems, fiction extracts and non fiction extracts, and write your own original poem, all related to your topic. The reading takes a while. The writing takes longer.

How it works for me: I only have to do one of each category, seeing that I joined the school about one and a half months ago. It’s a pleasure to do – my title is Life, Interrupted. It’s about fully functioning in a ‘functional’ society while living with mental illness. IT’S EXCITING. It’s also due on September 15th, the same day as a speech for Drama, and the week after my history project is due.

ABOUT HISTORY AT THIS SCHOOL

I’ve never failed a test. Okay, that’s a lie. I’ve failed math tests before, but that’s because I’m usually horribly useless at the numbers game, except if it’s the maths used to create the graphs John Green made use of in the novel, An Abundance of Katherines. You can read about it here. I failed a history test at my new school, and I’m not blaming it on adjustment issues or whatever. The thing is: I don’t fail history. EVER. I failed thoroughly though, not a half-assed fail. 19/50.  38%. THIRTY EIGHT.

After a discussion with my teacher (generally knows what’s in the textbook and doesn’t know much other than that) and the head of department (knows stuff and seems to love history a lot) they concluded the following:

  1. I haven’t been taught to think in the correct way
  2. I have a limited vocabulary
  3. My old school must have had a low standard of teaching

Problems I have with their observations:

  1. what?
  2. what?!?!????
  3. oh hell no – what??

Yeah, that happened on Thursday and I’ve never been so angry in my life. I don’t think I have – I even cried (?) so I think that that’s an experience that I’m forever going to hold with me. Hopefully, my resentful sentiments change with time – like 20 years of it.

In other news: I HAVE 15 MOTHS LEFT OF HIGH SCHOOL!

Today is also day 100 of my #100happydays challenge. I’m having very mixed emotions about it. It’s also also my smallest little sister’s 13th birthday today! That’ll take some of the attention off and I’m truly grateful for that. This is her on the day I got Getrude (laptop). Selfie game level 43 000: taking the first pictures on a new computer that isn’t yours.

picture015

 

I’m tired, people (and anything else reading this – there is a Dog with a Blog so we can’t be discriminating here). It’s 1:18 in the morning and I fixed the printer and have a planner for September (?). Here we go!
Screenshot (68)

 

Later/whatever/other teenagerism

-Scoot xx

 

Scoot on ~ consistency and procastiation

Okay, so I’m not the most consistent person out there.

I apologise profusely for my lack of posting over the past week or so, I’ve just been super busy with a big programming project. As you may guess, it’s important…therefore I should be working on it. But instead I’m here, ready to ramble on about something new that’s plagued me.

I have a problem called procrastination.

I know, we all do. But sometimes, there is need for an intervention. Like me for example. In preparation for finals in 2 weeks, I’ve been frantically making study notes that are illegible and to anyone but myself. I’ve also taken to leaving my study notes in the following format:

*writes title*…*draws flower*…*labels flower The Flower Of Procrastination *…*closes study book*

This is what I’ve been doing. I guess I’m not at the stage where I tie a towel around my neck and run around yelling “Pale Pixie to the rescue” like my friend Jess. Because that’s exactly what she did during mid-year exams.

I guess I understand the point of exams: to test knowledge gained throughout the year. But surely it’s a test of willpower as well? I mean, it’s like a giant competition: Who has enough willpower to cancel all plans, avoid the internet and study their ass off? I think that I should be allowed to refuse this willpower test. I mean, Jess & I are vegetarians — willpower much? MUCH.

It pays off. Eventually, I suppose. You see, some of it doesn’t though. CAN ANYBODY TELL ME WHERE I’M GOING TO USE TRIGONOMETRY? Honest to everything, I type this with an exasperated rage as I download extra trig notes. Believe me, I don’t make claims without doing my research: I did! If you want to use trig when you grow up, “Become a plumber,” my math teacher once said.

A plumber? Seriously?

I don’t know why these things exist, or why I keep having random OH MY GOD EXAMS ARE IN TWO WEEKS AND MY PROGRAMMING IS DUE NEXT MONDAY WHY IS LIFE SO DIFFICULT WHAT WHY IS THIS EVEN HAPPENING panic outbursts.

Life is getting too hard. I just want to stop and be  a cat, or a penguin, with no social responsibility except to be adorable and be loved by everyone.

Keep shining now. 🙂

All my love all the time,

-Scoot xx