A Letter From Senior Year Me

I arrived back from treatment on Thursday and along with a Makar plushie from the Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker sent from my brother, I had a letter written to me, from me. I didn’t remember writing a letter to myself recently so I opened it confused. It was a letter from when I was a senior in high school while I was doing this program called “Inward Bound”.

I was a speaker at this program for the middle school kids at my school about bullying. I went through a ton of bullying while I was in middle school and the therapist at school wanted me to share my story along with four other seniors. I had completely forgot that I wrote a letter and I didn’t expect to receive it nearly 3 years later. I thought I’d share some  of it and my reply now that I’m nearly 3 years older and in college.

“Dear Little Miss College, 11/8/13

So I’m currently at the Middle School participating in Inward Bound with the 8th graders here. I have to talk about what happened to me in 8th grade (note, it was horrible). Not gonna lie, it was one of the most difficult speeches I’ve ever had to write. A lot of feeling threatened to rise again, but they need to hear it. I’d be shocked if at least one of them wasn’t going through something similar to what I went through. We’re taking a trip on the emotion roller coaster. Woo! (Woo indeed).

Happy belated birthday miss a-dult! Its only been a few days, but the high of entering this new point of my life still hasn’t worn off. I just applied to Lewis & Clark College, Bard College, and Clark University 2 weeks ago (but I still haven’t heard from Bard…). I hope you are having an unbelievable time at one of these schools, and I hope you are using and taking advantage of all the tools college will have for you. 

I’m so jealous that you’re in college. I just can’t wait to get out of this fucking place once and for all. I can’t imagine missing it right now, but do you? Is college better than high school? Are you able to do all of the things I am hoping and dreaming of doing now? 

I hope that through all of this new, you are still sticking to some of the old. Please never lose sight of who you really are just because you’re in a new place. I like who I am now. Don’t change. 

Good luck with the rest of your life! -Zoey” 

Here is my reply.

Dear Little Miss High School,  5/29/16

I’m currently at mom and dad’s house in California (yes they actually moved) after being in treatment for that crippling anxiety and depression you ignored for that entire year. But I’m better now! I remember that day like it was yesterday, my friend. A girl came up to you crying her eyes out and thanked you profusely. I hold on to that memory dearly. One of your teachers wrote you an email that you never deleted thanking you for your words. You never realized what an impact you made and you won’t until you receive an award at graduation that you never expected. You will finally feel respect from that toxic community and its gonna feel weird as fuck.

I’m glad you enjoyed being 18, but let me tell you if you thought that felt weird, imagine almost being 21. I am now at the college you fell head over heels in love with and I am so happy. I am taking advantage of everything it has to offer, even if it gets overwhelming quite a bit. Its so worth it. I wish I could show you to shed some light on this dark point in your life.

To answer your questions: I do not miss high school. I have not missed high school ever since I walked across that stage. Yes, college is way better than high school. Better than you ever imagined. I don’t remember all of the things you were hoping and dreaming of, but if being in a cappella, rehearsing 15 hours a week and double majoring in things you love was part of it, then girl you are living the fucking dream.

Zoey… I needed to change. Yes, I am still still true to myself and some of that old of being whoever the fuck I wanted to be without other people giving a shit. But I finally let that wall you painstakingly built come down. I know it was so helpful while you were in high school, but it does nothing but create problems further down the road. I am so much happier not just because I’m in college, but because I’m finally loving myself. I know its so hard for you to fathom that but its actually happening and its wonderful.

You are going to have a very tough couple of years after this. You are going to feel that depression again and all of the toughness you felt isn’t going to go away; its just going to be manifested a little differently. But girl…you are so fucking strong. You survived that shit of a school. You can do anything now. You are so strong and I know its hard being strong, but you can do it.

Also you end up bisexual. Hope that’s alright 😉

Good luck with the rest of your life!

Have a day filled with kittens, Okay?

Zoey K.

 

Nightmare Turned Dream

So it is known that I have nightmares quite frequently (according to my psychiatrist thats not normal but eh…at this point nothing is normal about me) so much to the fact that they don’t really faze me anymore. Last night I had a really strange nightmare.

It started with me riding my bike in to high school (so already you can tell its a nightmare). I am greeted by my friends and we walk around my high school and its very dark and stormy looking, but its not raining. All of a sudden, I see pamphlets everywhere for different things, but one of them is my report card but not even from high school, from collage. The thing is that this is like an interim report card where its just to let me know where I am during the semester and its not final. But these grades are bad. It starts out with As and ends with Cs and Ds because certain grades hadn’t been processed. I started freaking out. Trying to rip them off every wall I could see. They were bright yellow. Next to them were more posters that had curses at me and saying what a failure I was. I ended up in my art history room crying my eyes out, wishing they would all disappear.

Suddenly, my friends, from high school and college, were beside me. They were asking me how this happened and if I had any idea who did this. They were there for me like they are in real life. They helped take all of the pamphlets and posters down and got the administration and teachers involved. It was like my brain solved my own nightmare. It was completely bizarre.

The best part was when I found out who did it. It was a girl who was the exact opposite of me in every way; the anti-Zoey. She wasn’t anybody I had ever met in my past. It was like my mind had manifested everything I had never wanted to be and put it in this human manifestation. So she admitted to me that she did this. So I grabbed her ear and punched her in the eye and dragged her by her ear and arm to the administration and got her to admit (unusually) what she did. And then I got to sock her in the stomach for fun.

Besides the unusual amount of random violence in this dream, I think it held a certain kind of meaning. I’m currently in treatment in Sacramento for my various problems and I am determined to work through them and get better. I think this dream shows that all of the bad sides of my mental illness are showing themselves and I am taking charge and making them punished and socking them in the stomach (for fun). It also showed that even in my dreams I’m not alone. I have friends who are willing to help me and will always be there to back me up.

As awful as it started, it had a pretty dope ending. Lets hope that I too will have a dope ending come the end of May.

Have a day filled with kittens, Okay?

Zoey K.

My London Experience: A Conclusion

I apologize in advance for how long this took me to get to. Jet lag and general laziness helped with the delay. This is going to be a long post, just so you’re prepared.

Here we go..

I am finally back in California surrounded by mountains and fresh air with an improved mood and looking forward to my future. Sure I’m exhausted because my inner clock is all whacked out and I think its 1 am at 9pm and 11 am at 5 am but I feel my mood significantly lighter. I mean, it is pretty difficult not to feel great when you’re staring out at an amazing view with a cup of tea in your hand. But in all seriousness, I think the lack of nature was a huge impact to my mood and was a source of my depression. Although I know my depression isn’t gone, nature certainly helps keep my head afloat.

The reason why this post also took me a long time is because I have trouble putting my experience in words. So I decided I’m going to do this in categories because why not.

What I learned:

Lets start with the obvious and not get too wishy washy (which is going to happen knowing me). As far as academics go, I gained an amazing new insight into paintings and how people interacted with them. My entire independent project was based on what people saw first in paintings and to see if there was a connection between that and how the painting make them felt (spoiler alert: there is none) and I had a blast researching it and presenting it to my peers. I learned and finally understood (somewhat…as best as I could) English politics and how their political system works. Coming from America, its always fascinating to see how other countries are run and how their political system worked. I learned all about the history of English music and theatre (even if the teacher  who taught me those things was a pain in the ass).

As for what I learned about myself…I learned that I am not a city girl and last Summer I learned that I’m not a country girl. I’m a nice in between. I didn’t realize how badly I needed nature or how much the lack of it would impact my mood. People are now going to complain and say, “But Zoey, there are lots of parks in London! Plus you can just go right outside of London and go hiking, right?” Well.. yes you’re somewhat right. There are lots of parks of London, but its manicured and not a substitute for natural nature. As far as going outside of London, let me tell you finding a trail is not that easy. Also I simply didn’t have that kind of time where I could just pop on a 3 hour train and try to go hiking. If I wasn’t working my ass off, I was mentally recovering from it. I learned what it was like to pick myself up without any help and not because I wanted to, but circumstantially I was forced to. I learned how some of my panic attacks are caused: exhaustion and being overwhelmed. I learned how much long distance really FUCKING SUCKS but also how it brings a couple more together and stronger.

Overall rating of the program: 8/10

This rating is based on my fellow participants, my professors, the trips we took, and how I felt in London in general. So here are the breakdowns

Fellow participants: 9/10. I loved most of the people I was on the trip with. There were a couple of people who I didn’t feel any connection to whatsoever but thats not necessarily their fault. My biggest pet peeve was the fact that our kitchen was constantly filthy and I was always having to do other people’s dishes.

Professors: 7/10 I wish I could exclude one professor mainly because he was the only reason why this is a 7/10 instead of a 10/10. The other 3 professors we had were absolutely incredible and I’m even friends on Facebook with one of them and they’re just awesome people in general.

Out of London trips: 10/10 Out of London, we went to Glasgow, Edinburgh, York, Oxford, Stonehenge, Bath, and Leeds.

London in general: 7/10 As far as a city, its pretty incredible how much it can jam into one place. Not only is it a art hub of the world, but it has an incredible theatre and music scene. The biggest issue is that it is scattered all over the city and at times can be very difficult to find. It also seems like there are really stable communities in all of these fields. It is a shockingly neat city seeing as how everyone smokes and are constantly throwing cigarette butts where they choose.

 Conclusion

I don’t know why this was so hard for me to write but it was. It was one of the first times I’ve ever gotten writers block writing a blog post. I wouldn’t trade the experience I had, even if it was ridiculously tough at many times, for anything. I learned invaluable things that I wouldn’t have gotten from any other experience and for that, I am incredible grateful.

Now I will start my journey into fixing my mental stability. (eep)

Have a day filled with kittens, Okay?

Zoey K.

I too, am a Winged Victory

So if you follow me on twitter  or instagram, you would know that I got myself a new tattoo.

 Thats it right over there. If you don’t know what it is, its the Winged Victory of Samothrace (or Nike of Samothrace) from the Hellenistic Grecian period.

Why did I get a statue on my forearm?

Well, its for a couple of reasons. One, I fucking love tattoos and I can’t not pass up the opportunity of getting a tattoo. Two, I wanted to get a tattoo from London so that I would never forget what I’ve learned here not only as a student, but how I’ve grown as a person during these 4 months. Three, if we’re going to be honest (I mean its my blog, when I am I not brutally honest about this shit) I really needed something to cover up the new scars I’ve made on my arms.

The Winged Victory to me symbolizes how much shit I’ve gone through mentally on this trip, but I am victorious over it. I wanted to leave London and go back to California so many times during this program because my mental illnesses were getting to the point where they were interfering with my everyday life to an extreme. I have gotten to ridiculously dark places on this trip that I thought I would never see again. I considered suicide and I self-harmed myself.

But you know what?

This tattoo shows that I did it. I went through all of this shit and I emerged victorious. I may have gotten a few hits (like my head and arms) but my wings are still spread in victory and for that I am a survivor. This tattoo is going to serve as a reminder that I can truly do it. That I have gotten to a dark recess of my mind and life and when I thought I couldn’t do it, I was victorious. It reflects my continue tattoo on my other forearm perfectly. I put my fists up and I have these two reminders of how strong I can be.

And you know what else? If you’ve been through similar shit as I have and you’ve gotten to a dark place but emerged victorious, you too are a winged victory. Even if it was being able to get out of bed for 5 days straight, you are a winged victory. We all can be winged victories.

SO FUCK YOU DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY I AM THE WINGED VICTORY OF ZOEYTOWN

Yeah, bitch. 


 

And another thing I can’t help but mention. I was exposed this past week to an amazing community via twitter, known as the Bloggess Tribe. The Bloggess has this amazing community of people who always help her our through panic attacks and her mental illnesses and she decided that it would be pretty rad if we all actually talked to each other, so she opened a forum for all of us to talk to each other. It has been an amazing experience seeing that I’m not alone and how strangers can help each other out in this kind of forum. So thank you Bloggess Tribe. Ya’ll are pretty damn dope.

Have a day filled with kittens, Okay?

Zoey K.

When in Rome…

In case you don’t follow me on Instagram or Twitter, I have been in Rome by myself for the past week. A lot of things happened while I was there and I did a lot of thinking as well. So here comes…

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(like the banners by the way? I think it adds some spunk)

The Good:

  1. Art: In case you are new to my blog, one of my majors is art history and its truly what I want to do with my life. To be able to visit a place like Rome…it was like walking through the beginning of my art history text book. I saw structures and sculptures and paintings I thought I would never get to see because they seemed so far away and fantastical upon studying them. But I really did get to see Caravaggio’s The Calling of St. Matthew and I really did get to sit in the Sistine Chapel staring up at the ceiling for 45 minutes. It was a dream come true when I think about the fact that I got to see so many works of art and history from my dreams. Walking through the Roman Forum made me feel like I was transported to Roman times. It was astounding.

  2. Sweets: Ok this may sound really childish (but you know what, if you thinks sweets are childish you seriously need to rethink your life) but I ate so many pastries and gelato and yummies. The gelato is good no matter where you get it and everyone makes pastries different and its so fun to try different ones in different parts. Seriously, there are about 4 pastry shops on every street. But you know whats even better that they have? These INCREDIBLE hybrid gelato/pastry/coffee shop/bar/restaurant style things on literally every street and they are the greatest things (and relatively cheap for Rome). If we put these on every street in America, our unemployment problem would be solved. You’re welcome Obama.

  3. CATS: Ok so you know how I’m always telling ya’ll to have a day full of kittens? I ACTUALLY HAD A DAY FILLED WITH CATS! Let me tell you, all of you wonderful followers (you guys need to come up with a cutsie name for yeselves) need to have a day where all you do is literally cuddle cats or dogs or whatever suits your cuddle fancy. Go to a shelter and just ask if you can cuddle their dogs for a bit or cats or lizards whatever. It will warm your heart and instantly make you happy. But let me say, the 2 hours I spent at the Roman cat sanctuary is on par with my day spent in the Sistine Chapel. Thats how amazing it was. I literally had a cat stands on its hind legs and HUG. ME. I had a cat who curled in my lap and fell asleep. It was an amazing experience and I wish it upon you all.

The Bad:

  1. Price: Rome is ridiculous. I paid 11 euros for a really mediocre plate of not a lot of pasta for 3 days before I learned my lesson. So you pay a lot for not great food, but then you’re thinkin’, “I’m in Italy, I should get a glass of their house wine. Thats cheap in other parts of Italy.” but you’re wrong because Rome thats why. A glass of house wine costs about 9 euros. I can get a pint of beer in LONDON for less. So no wine. Fine. Whatever. Just give me some tap water. BUT NO. Can’t use tap water for some reason even though literally there is tap water pouring out of public fountains for you to fill up your water bottle with literally EVERYWHERE IN THE CITY so they charge you for a bottle of water and before you know it you’ve spent 20 euros on a plate of not great pasta, bread you didn’t ask for and WATER. So heres a pro tip: Bring a water bottle with you to every restaurant, you really don’t need that wine, and if they bring you bread, decline it.

  2. Men: Now here is where men will say, “Not all Italian men god Zoey you raging fucking man hating feminist.” but let me tell you, it really felt like all men. I have never felt so uncomfortable walking around a city by myself before. Yes I’ve been cat called. I’m from Miami, I had men cat calling me from out their car windows when I was trying to cross the street on my bike sweaty as hell and gross. I thought that was bad. Nope. In Rome, I had men outwardly look me up and down. Even when I was wearing baggy clothes, I had men whistle at me, attempt to coax me to come to them, call me beautiful in one moment and then a whore the next when I didn’t react to their “compliment”, follow me, and even walk with me attempting me to get a drink with them. This happened to me every day. It was pouring rain and I was covered in my rain gear and men were still saying “Hey beautiful come here”. It was terrifying to be a woman in Rome and I hated it.

  3. Selfie sticks: I’m not talking about actual selfie sticks. I am talking about the people who attempted to sell me selfie sticks, umbrellas, scarves, tickets, everything. It was so horribly obnoxious that I couldn’t walk down the street without some guy shoving a selfie stick in my face or blocking my path to look at a fucking umbrella. I get it, they’re trying to make a living but it is just ridiculous.

    4. Being alone: I thought I could travel alone, but I was wrong and I found out in a lot of bad ways. See, being alone and not talking to people gives you way too much time to get inside your own head. I got in unnecessary spats with my boyfriend over things that shouldn’t have been spatted over because my mind over thought everything. It can’t just leave something alone without dissecting it and it ended up making a lot of things worse. Then came the loneliness. I had to ask for a table for one everywhere I went with nothing to keep me company except for Anna Karenina or solitaire on my phone. Waiters looked at me weird, customers looked at me with pitying eyes. The people in my hostel had people to giggle with and talk to at the end of the day; I had the Legend of Zelda’s Phantom Hourglass (great game by the way). My depression ended up trying to creep back the longer I was alone. And then the panic attacks. I got my first one while I was seeing La Traviata and luckily I was close enough to home that I didn’t think it was a big deal and I felt very proud of myself for handling it so well. And then I went to the Trevi Fountain, about a mile and a half away from my hostel. I got a ridiculously severe panic attack where I couldn’t just go to a quiet place. I was in a place full of people. So I found a little corner of the plaza and shook and cried for 30 minutes. I can’t handle that happening to me again so I will not be traveling alone from this moment on.

The What?!

  1. I met someone from Miami IN ROME! The last night I was in Rome, some Americans (finally) came into the hostel room so I asked where they were from. Turns out one of the girls went to a high school that rivaled mine! It was pretty sweet to share some familiar memories, even if only for a few minutes.
  2. I had a waiter sing “You are not alone” while showing me to my table for one.
  3. I had a guy think I was Italian because I “look Mediterranean.” (Keep in mind, I think the only thing Mediterranean looking about me is my huge Greek eyebrows, but I’m pale as fuck otherwise).
  4. One waiter only referred to me as “miss book lover” as he served me.
  5. The owner of the cat sanctuary’s favorite cat was a cat named Piopo who only had 3 legs, half a tail, one eye and he couldn’t use a litter box. He was her favorite because “he snores”.

Well I think that about wraps it up.

I got a Facebook page! If you like my stuff, go on over and give it a like!

Have a day filled with kittens, Okay?

Zoey K.

Strange Encounters: January/February

Oof its been a while. Sorry about that. Its been a rough couple of days for little miss Zoey over here. I think I could use a laugh and all of you could use a laugh, so lets laugh at the weird shit that has happened to me thus far. These aren’t necessarily in chronological order because I’m remembering them as I go.

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1. The Proposal

I went to Glasgow, Scotland with my group two weekends ago. It was wonderful and Glasgow is a truly cool city when its not kinda scary at night covered in drunks, but its really awesome besides that.I had to leave late because of a meeting I had for my almost had job (long story) so I got on a train to Glasgow at 5 and didn’t get there until 11:45. Within that large span of time, a couple of things happened:

  1. I lost my train ticket
  2. I met a really nice guy who had the thickest Scottish accent I ever heard and he kept asking me why people liked Donald Trump.
  3. I was proposed to.

Here is how 3 happened.

*Zoey walks out of the train station. Looks at her phone trying to figure out which way she is supposed to go. She picks a direction and looks up.*

Cue a random guy walking on the street. 

RANDO (while making direct eye contact): MARRY. ME. *he walks away* 

*Zoey stands there confused* 

Keep in mind the entire time he did this he kept walking but maintained direct eye contact with me. Lets just say it was quite an odd welcome to the city.

2. Sometimes interviews get a bit weird

As you may know, my project while I’m across the pond is to interview strangers about art (CAN LIFE BE BETTER???) and while I do get a lot of great answers, sometimes I get the strange ones too. Here are some things that have happened when I asked people about art.

1.Me: Ma’am, where does your eye go first?

Her: The eyes.

Me: Why?

*Looks at me directly in the eyes* Her: Because the eyes are the window to the soul my dear. You can see a lot about a person by staring into their eyes. *Kinda bobs around while she says this* 

2. Me: Sir, why do you look at the light in the painting?

Him: I don’t know. Ask Vermeer. *walks away* 

3. Me: Sir, where does your eye go first?

Him: Did you know that this painting is made of pastels?

Me: Um yes it says so-

Him: It was done in 1760 and he is such a brilliant painter. He is the best French painter to come out of this era. I think…*He continues to trail on and on about the painting, basically re-explaining what the info card says* 

Me: Thank you sir, but where does you-

Him: Thank you, you’re welcome, goodbye. *walks away* 

3. I finally got hit on

Its not often that I get hit on, for whatever reason. Sometimes, I think its really awesome, and other times its kind of sad. This day, was not one of those days I didn’t get hit on. In fact, it completely made my day.

I was sitting in the Tate Britain taking notes on Ophelia and waiting for this large group of art students to leave so I could interview people about it. As they start to leave and I start making my way towards it, this happens :

*girl runs straight at me *

Her: Hello uh hi hhello! I just think you’re very beautiful and I couldn’t stop staring at you so um okay heres my number just call me okay?

Me: Oh thank-

Her: I got to go to class bye!

*Runs away* 

Although I couldn’t call her to thank her for the compliment, I did find her on facebook and thoroughly thank her for the compliment and sadly break it to her that I am in a relationship but I would like to be friends with her. Haven’t heard from her sense. *sigh*

Anyway, sorry about the wait. I will try and post twice a week from now on.

Have a great day filled with kittens, Okay?

Zoey K.

Follow me on: Instagram: okayzoeyk Twitter: @okayzoeyk

 

 

Q&A Part 1: the basics

So I decided that maybe people want to get to know me a bit better, understand anxiety and depression a bit better, or just have burning questions. I have a list of some brief questions first, and then later we’ll get to the deep stuff. If you have any questions, please leave them in the comment section below and I will answer them!

Lets get started with some basics.

Where are you from? 

If you haven’t read my letter to Miami, that answers the question. But I am born and raised in Miami, Florida, specifically in Coconut Grove. Now I go to school at Lewis & Clark College in Portland, Oregon.

What are you majoring in?

Art History and Music with a vocal performance concentration.

Did you always want to do that?

Heeeeeeellllll no. Up until my junior year of high school I 150% wanted to be an actress. My heart was sold on it. I was willing to do anything to be on Broadway. I had been in the theatre community since I was in elementary school and I had been in every play in middle and high school. And then I took an art history class and my whole life changed. I always knew I wanted to keep music in my life because I’ve been doing it since I was 5 years old. I’m still open to change in my life. Who knows? Maybe I’ll go to med school when I graduate. (Doubtful but who knows)

Favorite artist?

Really? Um… uh… nope. No honestly I don’t think I have one. I do have a favorite painting though: The Arnolfini Portrait by Jan van Eyck (incase you didn’t see my post about that one)

How about music. 

When I say I like something from every genre, I am 100% serious. I really do. But my favorite band is the Decemberists, but I’m a metal head, a jazz freak, an opera enthusiast, growing EDM liker, country dancer, anything.

Have you ever been in love? 

Yep. Before my boyfriend (who I am currently in love with) I was in a relationship with a great guy for 6 years and I was definitely in love with him.

Puppies or kittens?

Are you fucking kidding me? Thats like asking me to pick a favorite child. They’re both amazingly adorable.

Did you always know you had disorders?

Well this took a turn from puppies and kittens. Nope. I had a hunch when I was in 8th grade that I was depressed because it was the first time I wanted to kill myself, but my mom convinced me that I wasn’t. I couldn’t even imagine having anxiety. I just always thought I was ridiculously hard on myself. Like REALLY hard on myself. I’ve been terrified of heights since I was 8 years old and I’ve always been a bit of a hypochondriac.

When were you diagnosed? 

I was diagnosed with a panic anxiety disorder when I was 18, a month before I went to college. I started having panic attacks in April of my senior year of high school. I was never officially diagnosed with depression until college.

What happened? 

I  was going to prom with a friend of mine. Sure I missed my boyfriend at the time, but I was determined to still have fun even without him there. However, while I was in line for photos, I suddenly couldn’t breathe. My heart was racing and I didn’t know why. I had to be escorted home because they were worried. So I came home from prom early with my shoes over my shoulder and tears in my eyes. Although it was my favorite prom look, it was definitely my least favorite prom. Then, I had 2 panic attacks later that week, one that ended up with me in a hospital. I broke up with my boyfriend that May because I was worried about my mental health, but then I continued to have them nearly weekly the entire semester.

And how about the depression?

Thats for another post friend. In short, lets just say it had to do with some really really REALLY mean girls and nearly a divorce. Also I was depressed all of my senior year of high school.

Where did okayzoeyk come from?

I’m not sure. I think that I’m “just okay” so I’m okay zoey k. The underneath title came from a snapchat my friend made of me of that photo.

Why did you decide to make a blog talking about your weird ass life?

Well, I think a lot of other people are like me and maybe feel really alone. I want to reach out to those people and show them that there are people who are as strange and weird and suffer from similar mental disorders and are still trying to get through life. Plus, there are so many misconceptions about mental health. I think if I start being more real about it, people will take it more seriously and get educated. Plus I think my life is kind of funny and nice despite it.

Thats all I got for tonight. Have a great day filled with kittens, Okay?

Zoey K.

P.S. Question: Why do you always sign out like that?

Everyones day should always be filled with cute animals. Its an automatic happy thing. Why not have a day filled with kittens?

 

Thank god this year is finally over

I’m just gonna put it out there.

2015 sucked.

Like it really fucking sucked. I’m trying to think of good things that happened during 2015 and I can only come up with a few things but hey might as well focus on the good before we go into the bad shit right? Here is my list of the good, the bad, and the WHAT? Get ready folks. This is a long one.

The good: 

  • I got accepted to study abroad in London which by the way IM GOING IN 10 DAYS WWWWWWWHHHAAT IS LIFE. I am planning on going to a museum EVERY DAY and its going to be the best and I’m going to cry so many tears of happiness its going to be great.
  • I went to Hawaii with my choir and that was pretty bomb. I’m pretty sure most of us blinded the Hawaiians with our Portland paleness but it was worth it.
  • I got 2 new tattoos that I’m really happy with (and one I didn’t even pay for because my brother is the best)
  • My boyfriend and I celebrated our first anniversary and somehow my love for him keeps growing everyday and wow he’s great.
  • I didn’t spend the Summer in Miami!
  • I stopped being a teenager and turned into a twenty nothing so that’s always nice. I’m no longer one of those “dang nabbit teens with their gadgets and their kissing and their sex and their issues” oh wait thats still me but take out the teen.

But now we get to the bad. And there is A LOT of bad.

The bad: 

  • So.. I was pretty damn suicidal this year. I was constantly trying to convince myself why I shouldn’t end my life because my anxiety was so crippling. I didn’t want to end my life because I thought I was alone. Actually on the contrary. I didn’t end my life because of all the wonderful people in my life cheering me on. It’s hard to think of life worth living when its so difficult to just be alive because your mind is constantly against you and you can barely sit still at a dinner party because you feel like you’re being judged and all you want to do is take off your make up and crawl back into bed. What was scarier was that the voice that was trying to convince me was SO SWEET ABOUT IT. They were like giving me a choice and I was like, “gah this would be so much easier to push away if it wasn’t said in the voice of a fucking FAIRY SUICIDE GODMOTHER.” (Update: since I started taking some more meds and lots of therapy, my suicidal thoughts have dwindled to almost nothing)
  • The summer was pretty bad. Although it’s difficult to complain about living in wine country for 3 months, it is easy to complain about literally having no friends but your parents in an hour and a half radius. So I was pretty lonely, and I only worked once a week at a museum that was an hour away and saw my boyfriend and his friends every other weekend.
  • This semester. I just want to pretend this semester did NOT HAPPEN. IT DIDN’T HAPPEN GO AWAY.
  • I had to say goodbye to my boyfriend and I won’t be seeing him until May.
  • Literally everything that happened this fall.
  • I turned 20 and now I feel like I have to be an adult and lord knows I am NO WHERE NEAR ABLE TO ADULT YET.

There were some really weird stuff that happened this year too. Some that were rather humorous, but still strange.

The WHAT?! :

  • So this semester (aka the-semester-that-shall-not-be-named) I worked at this TEENY gallery in North West Portland called Yale Union that was run by some pretty cool people who were not affiliated with Yale University (I know that was confusing for me too) and I only went on Saturdays and spent 3 hours sitting at the “front desk” (it was a table with some pamphlets on it. I’d hardly call it a front desk) counting the three people coming in every time (sometimes no one at all) and trying to help people. I had to help people because this exhibit was insanely confusing. All of the names of the titles of the pieces and their artists were on a wall facing away from the exhibit. So people had no idea what they were looking at or who it was by and so they took their frustration out on little ol’ me. This exhibit was all about motherhood and so there were some cool things like three HUGE peitry dishes with spit samples and hair samples that kept growing to show how life is everywhere and there were some really neat-o photographs of spider webs. But then, there was this really strange pregnant mannequin that was always RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME when I snapchatted that had like twisted limbs and feet and hands and was supposed to show the pain of mother hood. Some people enjoyed it. Others did not. A conversation I had with a visitor:

Lady: Is there are pamphlet or something that I can have?

Me: Nope. There’s just this collection of material the curator and the artist’s put together that inspired them to make the exhibit.

Lady: So I seriously have to go back and forth between this stupid wall and the exhibit?

Me: Yes ma’am.

Lady: with a sneer This exhibit is very…obtuse.

Me: That’s art ma’am.

Lady: Not all art.

Me: Yes ma’am all art. Goodbye now.

She left with quite a huff. (If you seriously want to have a discussion why all art is obtuse, I will GLADLY have that with you)

  • Yet another gallery story because all I do is work in galleries and tiny museums. Once again, I was in a super small museum in Sonoma as a front desk host (this was way more legitimate) and people LOVED  talking to me. The amount of people I had just tell me about their son’s for NO REASON or their grand children was astounding. We especially got a lot of older visitors who loved talking to me while waiting for their S.O to get out of the bathroom. An example of a conversation I had:

Man: Where are you from?

Me: Um… Miami. But I go to school in Portland.

Man: PORTLAND? Wait what on earth are you doing all the way over here in California Miss Miami?

Me: My parents just moved here and I’m spending the summer with them.

Man: Ah thats sweet. My son said Portland was full of hippies or something like that. Are you one of them?

Me: Well uh…I don’t know sir…Do you mean-(I was going to say hipster which is what I think he meant)

Man: Nah you’re too young to be a hippy. Plus you’re from Miami. They don’t have none of those hippies in Miami.  Have a good day now.

  • Other times at this same museum I had people try to swindle me out of paying the 5 DAMN DOLLARS to get into the museum. We were free on Wednesdays. One conversation with a rather wealthy looking woman caked with make up, probably about 60:

*She rushes in and doesn’t look at me*

Me: Um excuse me Ma’am, you have to pay 5$ in order to see the exhibit.

Lady: I have to pay?

Me: Yes ma’am we’re independently funded and its not very much-

Lady: This museum is so small though.

Me: Yes ma’am…

Lady: And you only have this Deeben whatever?

Me: Diebenkorn ma’am and yes. We only have space for one exhibit at a time but the exhibit is very wonderful and-

Lady: *looks around with her nose in the air* This museum isn’t WORTH 5$.*leaves* 

Me: BET I COULD HAVE PAID THAT MUCH FOR YOUR FACE LIFT. (Or rather I would have said that if I wanted to get fired).

Another conversation:

*man comes in and also doesn’t look at me*

Me: Excuse me sir, you have to pay 5$ to enter the museum.

Man: No I don’t. I didn’t last time.

Me: Well, you do now. You must have come on Wednesday. It’s free on Wednesdays.

Man: I’m pretty positive I don’t have to pay.

Me: Are you a member?

Man: Well no, but I didn’t pay last time.

Me: That’s not how this works sir. If you want to see the exhibit you have to pay 5$. I’m not sure why you didn’t have to pay last time but you do now.

Man: When did it switch to being paid?

Me: I’m pretty sure it’s always been 5$.

Man: I’m pretty sure you’re wrong.

Me: I’m not sir. Are you going to pay sir or shall I call my manager and have her explain why it’s 5$?

*he promptly leaves* 

Me: I WORK HERE ASSHOLE IM NOT WRONG ABOUT THE PRICE OF THE MUSEUM I WORK AT.

I don’t understand people.

  • I dog-sat a dog who would chase his own shadow. It was probably one of the most frustrating things that has happened to me when it comes to dogs.
  • While I was dog sitting the greatest Bernese Mountain Dog, I also cat sat a cat who would walk with the dog and I. The two of them hated my boyfriend.

Well, I think that’s my year in a nutshell spewing poison. Y’know, it sucked. Really bad. And I wish I could forget that this whole year even happened but at the same time, I learned a lot this year. I learned a lot about my limits as a person academically and that I really shouldn’t have so many hours of class in a day that I have 10 minutes to eat and maybe 18 hours of rehearsal a week isn’t so nice and that maybe I should not take a class when the professor is clearly an ASSHOLE. But you know what? I did. And I’ve learned from that. I learned that when anxiety gets bad and you think no one gets it, there may be one author who makes your shitty world make a lot more sense (Thanks Jenny Lawson). I learned that working in museums can be great but not everyone gets art and sometimes they take it out on the person working there and thats just what the workforce is like. I learned that even when you haven’t talked to your friends in weeks because you’re drowning in work and mental illness that they will still be there with open arms, smiles and a bottle of beer (thanks New World House and those who visited constantly).

Alright 2016, let’s not fuck me up as bad as 2015 did.

Cheers, internet.

Have a new year filled with kittens, Okay?

Zoey K.