Stranger Stories: An Anonymous Story About Being the “Other” Woman

a note from Mary: this story contains sensitive subject matter, please be aware. 

Like the author of the last fabulously-written anonymous story, I too reached out to Mary to be a guest writer on her blog. I have found that some stories are harder for me to share, and this is one few people want to hear let alone try to understand. This is the story about being the other woman. 

I know what you’re probably thinking, because I can almost guarantee I’ve thought the same things too. I’ve called those women numerous names and made assumptions about them, and then one day, somehow, I became the other woman. 

Four years ago I was entering my freshman year of college. I instantly became friends with this guy Scott (changing his name for the purpose of this story). Scott and I had many common interests and instantly became not just friends, but best friends. I knew I could call him at any second of the day or night and he’d coming running across the quad to my dorm and sit with me until the swelling of my eyes settled from crying so much. When I first met Scott I was still dating a boy from high school. The distance became too much for my little naïve heart to handle, and I soon started dating another guy, we’ll call him Mark. I knew from the start Mark was a bad idea. He was 3 years older than me and certainly more experienced than me. You know when you’re little and your mom tells you if something really makes you sad or uncomfortable that you don’t have to do it, that you should trust those feelings? Well unfortunately 18-year-old me didn’t listen to my mom’s advice. I wound up in an extremely physically and emotionally abusive relationship with Mark. It wasn’t until I was laying naked on the bathroom floor of my dorm room covered in bruises and blood that I realized I needed to get away, that I needed help.  

For the weeks to come, I distanced myself from everyone and everything and Scott and my friendship started fading away. It wasn’t until the summer after our freshman year that I told him the truth about Mark. This angered Scott. Okay so anger doesn’t even begin to describe how furious he was with Mark and the situation and how he wasn’t there for me, but somehow this turned into a conversation of Scott telling me he loves me. I told Scott I didn’t know how I felt. Looking back four years later I knew in that moment I loved Scott as far more than a friend, but I also knew my perception of love and life had been greatly altered by my relationship with Mark. 

So, Scott and I learned to live our lives separately. He loved me from afar and I hid under the covers of other men. Eventually we started dating other people and falling in love with them. Senior year of college came, and Scott was still in a very long-distance relationship with this girl (we’ll call her Emma) while I was single again for the first time in a long time. Scott and I quickly began to spend more time together. Scott would complain to me about how hard his relationship was with Emma being so far away and having so many differences, while I tried dating man after man, I realized I wasn’t happy and in love with anyone like I was with Scott. So one cold winter night, while I was crying over another boy, Scott comforted me, and we kissed. Right away we apologized, and said it was a mistake. I mean it was a mistake right? He had a girlfriend. I finally confessed to Scott how I felt and he said it wasn’t fair to him- he had felt that way before about me and I wasn’t ready and though he was miserable dating Emma right now it just wasn’t fair. So yet again, Scott and I drifted apart.   

Months went by without a single word shared between us, until one Saturday at 3 in the morning I received a phone call from him. The rest of that night is blurry. I’m not sure if it’s that I don’t remember it, or that I don’t want to. We ended up hooking up and then I just started hysterically crying telling him how much I love him. I told him to leave Emma. I told him if he wasn’t happy with her that he needed to break up with her, and be with me. He said now I knew how it felt, now I knew what it meant to have my heart broken, and I began to cry even more. He quickly apologized, and said that’s not what he meant. He said that’s what he wanted too, for us to be together, and we fell asleep. The next morning I woke up in an empty room, trying to figure out if the night before really happened or if it was all a dream. After a few days passed I called Scott and said we needed to talk. So we did, and suddenly I realized I was the other woman. Scott didn’t want to be with me, but he didn’t want to let me go. Scott told Emma what happened and I was suddenly blocked from all of her social media accounts and all of his. I spent my last few weeks of college walking around campus with puffy eyes and baggy sweatpants, keeping my head staring at the ground as people called me a “homewrecker” and a “Whore.” I started to believe those names people called me, and I started hating myself.  

Graduation came, the summertime came, and I thought I was free. But, life never works out quite that way does it? Soon it was October, and I received numerous phone calls from friends in the area saying that Scott was talking about me. So I finally worked up the courage to go sit down with him face to face and talk about everything. Amongst the awkward silences were a lot of “I’m sorry” and “I want you to be happy” and “let’s try to be friends.” So we did, try. Four days later of us “trying to be friends” landed us both in my apartment bed, cuddling, and you guessed it-me crying. I told him I didn’t want him to leave this time, I wanted to wake up the next morning and see him. By some miracle I did, which of course was when he decided to tell me that him and his girlfriend were on a break and he needed to figure out what he wanted. Although they weren’t together at this point, a part of me still felt guilty, like I was trying to weave myself into someone else’s story. I decided this time to trust that gut instinct. After a few weeks of back and forth arguing, I’m not sure if I’ll ever see him again. 

So here I am, writing this, finally typing up my story. If you’re still reading this, you’re probably wondering what I want you to take away from it, why this story is important. It’s important because it’s not just a story, it’s my life. I am not THE OTHER WOMAN, I am A WOMAN. I have a heart and a conscience and a mind and soul. I do not have “bad morals.” I fell in love with a guy who had always been there for me. I fell in love with my best friend and he fell out of love with his girlfriend, and I thought that by some miracle we could be happy together. What I have come to realize is that it will never happen, us. So often I read stories about how much it sucks to get cheated on, and trust me I know, I have been there too. But what hurts even more is being “the other woman,” the one who always saw the good in people, the one who put up with people calling her a “fucking whore” and her supposed best friend telling her “you have no morals and you’re a homewrecker,” all because I believed that Scott really, truly did love me and wanted to be with me.  

“I am not THE OTHER WOMAN, I am A WOMAN.”

My mom used to tell me, “once a cheater, always a cheater.” She warned me about heartbreak and loss, but she never quite prepared me for this empty, disgusted feeling with yourself. So, here I am, trying to move on and live my life, without Scott. Believe it or not, I was the one who ended things. I don’t care if him and Emma were on a break or broken up or whatever the hell you want to call it, but I was and am done with being a part of his life. I am learning to forgive myself for the mistakes I’ve made, but more importantly, I am learning to love myself again. Sometimes we invest so much of ourselves into someone else’s potential that we forget who they really are and who we are and what we believe and what we want. I want someone who wants me, and only me. Emma, if you’re reading this, I’m so sorry how things happened, but I really did love Scott. And Scott, if you’re reading this, you need to make up your mind. I would’ve/could’ve loved you with everything that I had left to give, but I realize it was never really me that you wanted. Maybe it was all just a game to you, and you were reaching to feel something again, but it was always so much more to me. To my audience, I’m not sure what you think of me, and frankly, I don’t care. I am learning to love myself again. I am learning that no one is perfect, myself included. I am learning that we all make mistakes. I am also learning that everyone is deserving of love. One day, I will find the love meant for me. 

So before you go around calling people “homewreckers” and “slut-bags” and whatever witty things you think you can come up with, know this: We are each just trying to find our way in life, trying to find love and all deserving of love. And yes, I “the other woman,” have a heart too.  

Also, to those who are in abusive relationships, or have been assaulted or raped, I hope you find the courage to tell someone. I hope you find the courage to leave and to seek help. I still have moments where it is hard for me, but I am so thankful to have family and friends who love and support me and will never make me feel alone again. Surround yourself with people who make you happy to be alive. Those are the friendships worth having, and never settle for anything less than that.  

If you have a story that you would like to share, anonymous or otherwise email me at marysaverageadventures@gmail.com.

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Stranger Stories: An Anonymous Love Story

An Anonymous Love Story

A couple of months ago I asked my dear friend Mary if I could be an anonymous guest writer on her awesome blog. Because she is literally the nicest person I probably know, she willingly accepted my request. So hello Mary’s avid readers! I’m sorry I can’t introduce myself, but perhaps if you continue reading, the reason as to why will be made clear.

I’ve felt the need, over these last few months, to get something off of my chest but life gets hectic and the feelings I’m about to share were not nearly as important as the other aspects of my life. As things begin to calm down and my routine is more set, the feelings can’t be pushed aside much longer. They pop up out of nowhere and they pester me at the most inconvenient of times. As my therapist once told me, writing can be extremely useful for people who have a hard time expressing their feelings. And so, here I am, hiding behind anonymity in the hopes of being able to find some type of peace of mind.

Years ago, I fell in love. Or at least I thought I did. I’ve come to realize that what I loved was the idea of him, the idea of being in love with him, the romance of the entire situation. But not him, I never really loved him. And the only reason I’m able to say this is because now I actually love someone, and it hurts substantially more. It started as this perpetual cold feeling somewhere between my heart and my diaphragm, like someone punched me with a snowball. Now there’s just this empty feeling there, as if a part of my side was ripped out entirely. If I try to visualize the space it’s a black, empty void. Somehow, that hurts worse than the snowball punch.

I met him a few years ago. I was recovering from a really tough year and we were studying at the same place. We became instant friends and spent most of our time together. I’ve never had a male friend like him. We have the same interests, same passions, same humor. We grew close and soon he became one of my best friends. When we said goodbye to each other, I (accidentally) told him I loved him and turned around and got on a bus. It was a very friendly ‘I love you’ but even still, I meant it.

It was months before I saw him again but nothing changed between us. We picked up right where we left off. Again I was leaving on a bus when he hugged me and told me he loved me. Once more, strictly in a friend way. I smiled and walked away.

Years went by and we kept in touch; a skype call here and there, a couple snapchats a week and few friendly text messages. He was still one of my best friends and I loved telling people about our adventures together and how great he was. Then we saw each other again.

I was so excited to see him and we had one of those running into each other’s arms at the airport moments. It had been years since we had seen each other and yet, we were as comfortable as ever. Before our reunion, my friends kept asking me if I thought we’d hook up, which in my opinion was an absurd question. “Hook up with him? He’s like my brother guys, never.” So naturally we hooked up.

I was terrified. This would totally ruin our friendship. Everything was going to be awkward now. I’d royally screwed up. Thankfully, I was entirely wrong about all of that. But the one thing that I was right about was that I’d never be the same. The more time I spent with him and the more intimate we got, the more attached I became. Despite my best efforts, I knew I was falling in love him. I couldn’t have stopped it even if I had wanted to.

We spent two weeks together, 24/7 and not once did I get annoyed. Not once did I want to rip his head off. Not once did I need alone time. I can’t do this with my best friends that I’ve known for years. I can’t do this with my sister or mother or anyone. But with him, I’m a different person and I really like that person. I want to be her more.

The time came and he was leaving. His bus was leaving late, he was heading to his next adventure. (As I’m writing this, I’m starting to realize what an important part buses play in this whole little story). I looked in his eyes while tears streamed down my face and I was speechless. I couldn’t say anything. So I smiled while he told me how much fun he had, how much he’d miss me, how excited he was for our next trip together. We hugged, I looked at him once more and walked away. I didn’t turn back. I couldn’t turn back. My life wasn’t behind me and I had to keep moving forward. But that wasn’t the real reason I didn’t look back.

You see, his next adventure was visiting The Girl. The Girl is a friend of mine and I knew from the start that he was going to visit her. The Girl is someone who he told me he could see a future with. We were very open about The Girl and talked about all of it after we had hooked up. So the real reason I didn’t look back is because I didn’t want to know whether he was watching me leave or if he was on the phone with her. It would have broken my heart in that moment if I knew the answer. I wanted to remember him fondly and hold no grudges. So I walked onward, content with my oblivion.

While I write this, I know that I’m heartbroken. I know that the person I love doesn’t know that I do and most likely doesn’t harbor the same feelings. But I still love him and I always will. Perhaps that’s the heartbreaking part of this whole story. I really do believe that I will always love him. He is my first love, the first person I can envision a real, viable future with. I want to spend my life with him, I want him by my side through all of the adventures. We’re still best friends. We still talk frequently and on the surface, nothing has changed. I haven’t told him I love him because at this point in time, there is no benefit in doing so.

Perhaps now you understand why I chose anonymity. I need to confess to the world that I love someone who doesn’t love me back and I need to do so without anyone knowing I did. The irrationality of love annoys me. I hope you don’t feel like your time has been wasted reading this story. Perhaps no one will even get to the end of this blog. But I can pretend that I’ve shared my story with people and I can pretend that they can at least relate to it.

I suppose the lesson I’ve learned from all of this is that sometimes there are heartbreaks so enormous you can’t just get over them. I will always love him and I will always remember this heartbreak, but it won’t define me nor will it stop me. I’m not bitter and I don’t regret a thing. Now that I’ve fallen in love I know how great it is, even though it hurts so much. Sometimes, it’s ok to be broken for awhile because then you can learn how to put yourself back together.

If you have a story that you would like to share, anonymous or otherwise email me at marysaverageadventures@gmail.com.

Job Searching is Work, NOT Luck.

I walked across the stage at graduation with the knowledge that within the next month I would be starting a full-time job using the diploma they were about to hand me. I was told a multitude of phrases when I told people, family, close friends, and all of my mentors were very congratulatory, they knew how hard I had been working towards getting a job post-graduation. My roommates knew that I spent most of my free time applying for jobs and going on interviews that lead nowhere. On top of my school work (and work) applying for jobs was essentially a full-time gig for me.

Acquaintances, random people who felt obliged to ask me what I was doing post-graduation were less congratulatory and were far more likely to tell me how lucky I was. “You know not very many people graduate with a job lined up, you’re quite lucky,” was a response I got quite often. Let me tell you, luck had absolutely nothing to do with it. I had worked my butt off for 17 years in school, and I wanted something to show for it, more than a piece of paper. I worked extremely difficult to get a job- it wasn’t easy but you can do it.

Here are my tips for your job search:

  • Start sooner rather than later- it’s better to start early and know early then start late and no have anything lined up.
  • If it says 3-5 years experience and you’re just graduating college, apply anyway. Use your experience from school, internships, etc.
  • The worst that can happen is they say no. Trust me- you can get really far and they’ll say no and it’ll SUCK, but then you’ll get a different job and be fine. I know from experience.
  • Networking is important, knowing people helps, but at the end of the day, you need to sell yourself. Know your strengths and how you can help a company grow, that’s what will get you far.
  • Ask for help, see if your connections know of any places hiring or know of people that are top rated in your industry that can give you advice.

Work hard to work hard, but if you do something you love it’ll be worth it.

Dating Diaries: The End?

I started a series in the mindset that I would be trying online dating, hopeful, but not expectant of anything. Well shortly after, I fell for someone and I wanted to keep it to myself, it was new, I don’t fall often but when I do I fall hard. I felt giddy like a school girl. I’m sure you can assume it ended. It ended for exactly the reason I wrote about in my second dating diaries post, plus he didn’t know what he wanted.

I did what I normally do when a guy ends things (or pretty much makes me do it) I hop on an online dating site. I made it about four days this time around when I realized how hurt I actually was. I was at work and honestly had a little bit of a melt down. Was it fair for me to talk to boys that were nice to me when I was so unemotionally available? Was it fair for me to make fun of them to their faces unbeknownst to them? No, none of that was fair. So I deactivated my accounts. I said goodbye to two: two that I was supposed to go on dates with this weekend. That’s what did it. Two dates in one weekend, there was no way I would get through one let alone two, so I said goodbye, wished them well.

So why is this the end of dating diaries? Well, it’s not really, it’s just how I’m not dating anymore. When I’m ready I’ll come back; when I’m ready I’ll spill all the juicy gossip of how gross guys are on dating apps.

I think this little mini-heartbreak has taught me a lot. It’s taught me that I know what I want, and I shouldn’t settle for someone who doesn’t. It’s taught me that if someone else is afraid of where it’s going I should be as well. It’s taught me that I can be alone and be okay. It’s also taught me that I shouldn’t let my friends set me up with people because parties from now on might be a little awkward.

Now, I’m going to take myself, pour all of the love I have into hobbies and side hustles. My rebrand will be done before I go to Ohio, and everything will be ready for BloggyCon (anyone else going?!). It’s time for me to focus on me and everything I want out of my own life before I try mixing someone else’s in. So for now, I’m saying goodbye to dating diaries, and hello to something else, who knows what!

When’s the last time your heart was broken? Was it full-blown or just a little tear?

Dating Diaries: Waiting Until Marriage

Family who reads my blog– please do not feel obligated by any means to read this post as I will be talking about sex quite candidly.

This is one of the hardest blog posts I’ve ever had to write because it’s such an unpopular choice that I have made. I don’t know when I made the conscious decision to do so, it’s just something that I decided I was going to do: I am going to wait until I’m married to have sex.

This makes dating complicated. We live in an extremely sexualized world. There are apps people use for the sole purpose of finding someone to have sex with. Then there’s me, making the extremely unpopular decision to wait. So why have I decided to keep the promise I’ve made to myself? To be quite honest, the decision started because I’m religious but I’m no longer doing it because of that. It is one part because it weeds out a lot of really shitty guys. If he gets annoyed about your wait to want or even tries to convince you to do otherwise you know he’s not even worth the slightest amount of time.

Aside from the benefits of weeding the shits out, it’s still not an easy conversation to have with anyone. There never seems to be a right time or place to blurt out “I’m a virgin and I’m staying like that until my wedding night.” In the past, I’ve found it easiest to say while intoxicated, but that’s just really not bright because it’s more than that. It revolves around boundaries and decisions that you have to be grown up enough to talk about. It’s  not fun, but it’s important.

Here’s my advice to anyone sitting down to have the conversation, just do it. I usually start by saying, “I really like you and I hope this isn’t going to change anything, but I’m waiting to have sex until I’m married.” After that, it’s hopefully a conversation, or at least he’s respectful of your choice. Every now and again you might meet someone who has the same plan, but for me, it’s been few and far between. It’s only impacted a relationship once or twice, but if I’m being honest I like to wait for them to get at least a little attached. The only downside to that is I also get attached. The sooner the better, but it’s also important for you to go with what you are comfortable with.

I’m not writing this post for other people to make the same choice that I have. It’s hard and it’s not for everyone. Due to my anxiety and severe commitment but also extreme attachment issues, it wouldn’t be smart for me to do. So I’m doing what I can for my Lord by saving myself, but that’s not all of it. It’s so much more than that.

What are your thoughts? Any other waiters out there? How do you have the conversation? One, a few, ongoing?

Dating Diaries: “Costco Sunglasses”

 

So I’m dating again. As you probably know, I hate dating. It’s the worst. But alas, I would like a boyfriend because one day I’d like to get married and have a family. However, it’s not going real great so far so I thought I would start a new series about dating*. I like to consider myself fairly low maintenance when it comes to men, I don’t want to be paid for (example A bought my own coffee), I’m fine making decisions for myself, and I don’t require excessive amounts of attention, all I ask is for them to be upfront with me.

This afternoon I went on a first date. Personally, I thought it went well. I did a lot to prepare, got a new outfit (okay I wanted an excuse for a new outfit), shaved my legs, used a facemask, did my makeup very well. To be honest, most of that was just needed as some mental self-care. Went to meet him at a local coffee shop, he was late and the wait at the place was 30 minutes so we walked to another. We sat in that coffee shop for almost two hours. Then, we walked all over downtown for nearly 3 hours. By the end of the date, it was nearly 5:30. He walked me to the car and said he would definitely text me with plans for another encounter. Well, he did.

However, he said that he didn’t think that we would be good romantically. THEN WHY THE HECK WOULD YOU LET ME GET BLISTERS WHILE WE WALK AROUND FOR THREE HOURS.

Hindsight, I definitely agree that we wouldn’t be good romantically agree. I mean, he showed up in plaid cargo shorts, what the boys in elementary school would wear! Add onto that his Costco sunglasses, he would need a little fashion change, and that’s coming from me who rarely matches. I realize this is something that makes me sound extremely shallow, and that there’s something wrong with all Costco sunglasses, or Costco in general and there isn’t. However, I think the look of the sunglasses, the fact that they were worn inside, and the plaid cargo shorts showed a level of immaturity that I’m passed at this point in my life.

I also had to push all of the conversations, ask so many questions, and just try hard. I definitely am just tired of being single and wanted it to work very badly. However, still a little offended he waited to text me that it wasn’t going to work out. We spent five hours together, plenty of time to tell me!

Be honest people. Dating attempt one: check.

*This segment is the first of an ongoing series about my life dating. I will go into things like waiting until marriage, what I’m looking for in a potential husband, as well as delving into my dates.

Weekend Coffee Share: New Apartment

If we were having coffee we would be sitting in my unmade bed (the sheets are in the dryer) with Leslie Knope, my new cat. If we were having coffee, I would probably make you help me move my dresser out of the living room and into my new room, once we finished our coffees of course

If were having coffee I would talk too much because I’ve been alone in my apartment for two days with only my cat to talk to. I would tell you all about my new job and how I’m so excited to dive in with the real work this week.

If we were having coffee, after I went on and on about my job, I might ask you how you’re doing and what’s new with you, but it is sometimes more like me just to keep talking about myself. So then I would go on and on about how this blogging transition has been hard for me and content creating has become difficult. Not because I don’t like it, but because I’ve just been in a rut with my thoughts and ideas. I’m either too ambitious or too underwhelming.

If we were having coffee, I would probably give your the mini tour of my new apartment, and it would definitely be a mini tour. I’d tell you how excited I am to have an office, but since we’re still unpacking it’s pretty much unusable. I would also show you the coffee maker so we could make a second cup. Then we would go back to my bare bed because the dryer takes forever.

If we were having coffee, I would ask you what I should wear to work tomorrow, and then tell you about my idea for a photo shoot of different work outfits but I lack a photographer, since that is what I do for others. I would also tell you about all the ideas for that I would need help to accomplish which is sometimes very frustrating.

If we were having coffee, I’d ask you for advice– what should I do with my life? Like yes, I have a job and I love it, but what should I be doing with the rest of my time, certainly not just watching Netflix and coloring like I have been. I just want to know what’s next.

If we were having coffee and our time was up, I would walk you to the door and thank you for coming. “I’ll see you next weekend my friend.”

Weekend Coffee Share

If we were having coffee you’d be sitting on the other side of the couch at the home I babysit at every Sunday. We would be watch “13 Reasons Why” and I would be ranting about how much I hate boys and I just want to meet a nice man that treats me right and how I hope so badly it’s the one that’s talking to me now. Then I’d tell you that I don’t think it is, which makes me feel conflicted as conflicted can be.

If we were having coffee I’d be sipping my second big cup of the day. Trying to get rid of the headache, the tiredness I’ve been feeling from barely sleeping the past few weeks, and most importantly, just trying to enjoy the taste and calming down.

If we were having coffee I’d pour you a nice big cup. We would talk about all of the things that have been bothering me. My blog, boys, jobs, everything. I would vent, and then let you vent. I’d probably interrupt because that’s probably my worst habit of all. I’d complain about not knowing what to make for dinner, my diet, and then I would whisper “I’ll probably just go to Subway again.”

If we were having coffee, I’d let you know that I think it’s weird the baby has been sleeping for three hours, but I wouldn’t complain. Trust me I’m thankful. I would then go on to show you pictures of how cute he is, and how thankful I am for all of the wonderful families have allowed me to watch over their children this year.

If we were having coffee, I would probably go on a feminist rant, tell you about how much I love social media, and how I wish my blog would thrive. I’d have a lot to say, but at the same time, nothing at all. I’d open up like I used to on my blog. Before I went public with it, before I was applying for jobs, and before when I didn’t have many friends. I’d share my worries, my thoughts, and my doubts.

If we were having coffee, I’d ask you if you want another cup but pour you another no matter what the answer was. The truth is, on Sundays I get to a point where I desperately need to talk to an adult so I wouldn’t really want you to leave.

If we were having coffee, I’d have to eventually excuse myself to get the crying baby and I’d thank you for joining me. I’d invite you back next week and be so happy for my friendships with you.

What would you tell me if we were having coffee?

Taking Care of my Anxiety

copy-of-happy-birthday-to-you

If you’ve been around for a while, and I mean like at least a year because 2016 has the year that I don’t blog really, you know that I have struggled with anxiety for quite some time now. I got back to school this year and I couldn’t sleep through the night. I didn’t have too much going on yet, but I would still wake up in a panic thinking I had slept through my alarm or forgot to do an assignment but really I had handed in the assignment the day before and it was 3 am so I obviously hadn’t slept through my alarm.

Seeking Help

It was interrupting my life in a way that it had never done so before. My school (and I believe most schools do) offers a free counseling center for students. Since I am a senior graduating in May, I figured this was the time to start going while I still had the opportunity to go for free. I got in nearly right away and had an appointment with a woman who is now my therapist. On the first day, since I had gone so longer trying to regulate it myself through giving up caffeine, breathing techniques and a variety of other solutions I had found on the internet that did not work, she said I should consider talking to the psychiatrist.

Considering Medication

For the longest time this is something that I heavily opposed. I did not want to be medicated, I didn’t want a medicine to regulate my mood, but I wasn’t sleeping and that was effecting me as a person and I couldn’t do it that way anymore. So alas, I decided to pay him a visit. At our first session he said that I was a good candidate for medication and to be quite honest, I was really just tired of fighting my anxiety on a daily basis. The way he explained it to me is that my brain is like an accidental bicycle path. One person ran through the grass, so another person did, and then another, and eventually there was no more grass there and that’s what my anxiety did to my brain. The medication he said would be like the grass seed, helping the grass to grow, it would help my brain to return to its original form almost.

Going into the appointment I wasn’t really sure the route I was going to take. It was a lot to think about, but the exhaustion I felt from being anxious all the time was overwhelming. By the end of the appointment I decided to try medication to see if it would change anything in me.

The Battle in My Brain

I kept going to therapy, every week like clockwork. I would talk to her about my issues with newspaper, friends, and other concerns and fears that I face in life. It has been extremely beneficial to have a third-party listen and give input to what I have to say without bias other than to make me feel like I’m not crazy. However, there was still that little voice in the back of my head telling me everything I was doing wrong, making me feel like I couldn’t do a lot of things, and really just messing with me still. I have a very busy schedule right now and it has made it easier to push to the back of my mind, however, it was still there. The panic attacks lessened and I was less anxious, but any downtime that I had, I reverted back to my old ways of anxious feelings and emotions.

Back to the Psychiatrist

After a month on being on my medication, and not having the improvements that should have occurred while taking it, the psychiatrist suggested that I up my dosage. While I was hesitant at first, I am so glad that I decided to increase it. The past few days, I’ve barely felt anxious and I’ve been very happy. With the last dosage I was inexplicably happy when I would forget to take my medication which really made me want to go off of it. However, by increasing it, the past two days especially, I have been on cloud nine. I have felt extremely positive about my life. Of course it’s not perfect, I still get anxious and annoyed when I’m in a situation that I’m uncomfortable in, but it is light years away from where I used to be even just a few weeks ago.

The Take Away.

Please talk to someone if you are suffering with mental illness. My own anxiety kept me from going for so long. I was afraid of what they would say, but at the end of the day they aren’t there to judge you, they’re there to help you. If you are in college, chances are it’s probably free and it will be extremely beneficial to your mental health. Don’t wait until you are at your breaking point to go. If you in any way, shape, or form feel like your mental health is suffering– talk to someone! Chances are you will feel so much better.

I’ve decided to share this because I can only hope it will encourage someone else to do something about their mental health situation. At the end of the day, I don’t want this to be a secret, everyone close to me knows, I put it in the newspaper, because it is an amazing resource that we have readily available as college students. Medication is up to the individual, I hope that this is not a lifetime thing I need to do, however, if it will keep me from being anxious, at this point I don’t care. I want to feel better, and I want everyone suffering from mental illness to feel better.

At the end of the day you need to surround yourself with positive people who care and love you. A strong support system will really help you get through anything, even if that’s a little encouragement to talk to someone. So to my personal support system– online and off, thank you.

Take care of yourself.

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July Birchbox

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So I know this about the same time I posted the June Birchbox, however, I’ve had this and have been suing the products for quite sometime. I haven’t been good at keeping up with much of anything but here we go.

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So this month I actually had six items in my Birchbox, and I’m not sure if it’s because two of the items are like a duo or if because I chose which mascara I wanted. I guess I’ll find out next month because I did choose one of the items for that as well.

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The first thing in the July box is the amika Perk Up Dry Shampoo. It is supposed to have an Obilphica scent, to be honest, I don’t know what that means and I’m too lazy to Google it. However, I do think it smells slightly better than most dry shampoos. It says full size ranges from $10 to $24 and I don’t know how to do that conversion to how much this one is worth. It’s a good travel size and if I go anywhere it’ll be good for that. I already have a dry shampoo though so maybe it’s something I’ll consider in the future after that’s gone.

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This is  COOLA SPF 50 Sport sunscreen in the scent mango. It smells not like sunscreen, but I don’t know if it would be a mango scent. Anyway, it’s organic so that’s cool. I only used it once and not when I was at the beach because there isn’t enough for my whole body. So I’m going to say it works, but the full size is $32 for 5 oz, which in my opinion is not worth it for sunscreen, like Target brand is good enough for me at that cost.

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So I think these are meant to be like a duo, but I don’t know. The bottle on the left is the Shiseido Ultimune Power Infusing Concentrate which is supposed to protect against signs of aging for a radiant complexion.  You only really need a very small amount of it so it really looks about the same as it does in the picture. I’m at the age where everyone says you need to start using anti-aging products because appearently women aren’t beautiful if they don’t look young so you have to start fighting when you are young. Anyway, it’s fine. I don’t have any strong feelings for or against it. The full size is $67 for 30 mL.

The other item is the Shiseido Ultimune Eye Power Infusing Eye Concentrate which helps blur out wrinkles and dark circles and it really did help get rid of the dark circles, however the sample was so small and not good for multiple uses. I was really surprised. The full size is $65 for 15 mL. I will probably not purchase either of these items because they are just too far out of my price range.

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This was definitely one of my favorite items of the box and I did pick it. It is the Smashbox X-Rated Mascara. The mascara I have been using separates my eyelashes really well but this one adds so much volume that I didn’t even realize could improve my eyelashes. I’m always afraid of them being too long since I wear glasses everyday but this is perfect for me. The full size is $22 and I honestly might purchase it. I can use my Birchbox points so I will really consider it. My only complaint about the product is that it’s very liquidy but I think that helps it stay on better and even out over the lashes.

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This is the last product in the box and also one of my favorites. It is the Supergoop! Daily Correct CC Cream SPF 35 in light medium. I’ve actually gotten so many uses out of this product.  The full size sells for $32 which is slightly above my price range for such products so we’ll see if I decide to buy it ever. It’s definitely like on the back burner for one day when I have money to spend on things like this. It has a lot more coverage than I would’ve thought.

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That’s what I got in my July Birchbox! What did you get in yours? I’m pretty sure I like this one more than June. Also, if you’re interested in subscribing for $10 a month for some great high quality products, check out this link https://www.birchbox.com/invite/marysavrgadventures!

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