It Got Real

In my English class today, we went to a presentation. We were wonderfully elected to be test subjects for this as some general education thing. I'm not sure exactly what, but a lot of professors were there observing. I think we were all also a bit too shy, especially me, who was frozen half the time like "Oh no." We had to talk about things in little groups, and my group learned that I cry when I'm out of my comfort zone. (Not because I cried, but if it had gotten any more real, I might have.)

The presenter showed us clips from the films he'd made, and one of them involved a guy who had to stop going to university. He used his time and effort to help his neighborhood, the place he literally grew up in. He wanted everyone, especially the children, to be able to eat regularly and gain some form of education. Halfway through his explanation, he burst into tears. Watching him earlier in the clip engaging with the children in their classroom and seeing how passionate he was just talking about it hit me hard. I almost started crying myself, and the rest of my class and I left without a word really. It got real.

In the beginning, we had to explain our passion and a social issue we're concerned about. All I want is everyone to be accepting of one another, specifically regarding sexuality and mental illness. (Not together, just separately even though they can be related based on circumstance.) Another thing I really want to do, which is the main point of this blog, is help others who feel anxiety, depression, or both feel confident enough to seek help and to talk about what's going on with them even if they can't describe it with words. I want to do something.

For me, on campus, it's a little weird and stressful to go into the place, get the forms, fill them out, and give them back to get accommodations and special help. (Hence why I haven't done it yet. I'm too nervous about it. I just tell my professors so they know why I might clock out or have a freak out. It just scares me.) I want to get over my own fears of that and help others who are in the same boat I am do it. If your anxiety is as bad as mine, you probably feel uncomfortable walking in there, asking for the forms, and talking with whoever you're supposed to talk to. I don't know. I feel like there should be some support thing even if it's student run. I don't know if I could do it because I'm too panicky. I suppose that's the point, though. If we're all afraid to do it, it won't happen.

I want to do something. I want to help people. I just don't know how to go about it.

I might ask my advisor for, well, advice. I want to know if such a thing exists, and if it does, why I don't know about it. If it doesn't, I want to see what we can do about making it happen.

Maybe this is a little too ambitious...but this is no time to second guess myself. For once, I want to throw that voice under the bus and let said bus turn it into roadkill.

Pieces of Me

During my second semester, the only class I felt comfortable in was French. That was where I first thought of the concept of there being more than one me. That sounds strange, yes, but let me explain.

Whenever I find myself in a panic attack, I tend to not remember what even happened. It's only happened twice to me, and each time, I've been described as someone completely different. I sat in class, waiting for it to start and oddly enough listening to music from Les Misérables, and I thought about that concept. It started with just myself and what my mom described as "that scary girl who yelled at me". My mind then drifted back to my first semester when I felt confident and normal. To me, that felt like another person as well.

Thus, the concept of these pieces of me was born.

It helps me personally deal with my own anxiety to think of my three parts as separate states of mind that I experience. That way I can bring them up and banish them at will. (At least, that's the hope.) So far, it's worked. The scary girl only happened twice, and neither of those times was after I started thinking of her as a girl inside my head.

Here's sort of the example. I'm going to use DreamSelfy to help me since my strength is in writing, not drawing. (Now you're all going to know that I love animus and mangos.)


This is Kayla. She goes by the name Tiki, and she's a writer. She loves playing video games and roleplaying on Tumblr. She likes to talk to her friends on Skype. She's a big fan of photography as well. Being alone isn't her favorite thing, and that's why she sometimes gets stressed out. When she's too stressed, she faints, and another takes her place.

This other is Lyka. Lyka is afraid of everything, and she uses anger to cope. She has a hard time breathing, curling up into a ball and holding onto a plush doll to keep herself from crying too much and too hard. She may be scary, but she's easily hurt, too. She's like Kayla in the respect that she gets stressed. She just handles it
differently. She has to get through it somehow. She'll do it in any way she can even if it means hurting others. Unfortunately, Kayla usually gets the blame for it.

When Kayla is feeling determined, she zones out. When she zones out, Kyla comes into play. She's a diligent worker, unable to be distracted by anything (except her favorite video game or TV show characters). She studies in her spare time, and she attends classes, taking notes with color-coded pens and answering questions after encouraging herself that her answer is valid. She hates to be interrupted, but she's kindhearted and will help anyone who asks her if it involves something she understands. She'll even take the time to help someone find what they're looking for on campus and even in the library.

All of these are parts of me that I've found. They're all parts I can utilize and make work when I need them to. I don't consider it split personalities so much as I do putting faces to portions of me. Personifying them helps me have better control. It turns the situation into one that I feel more comfortable working with. It makes me feel like I have more control over my anxiety. That's one of the biggest steps to recovery.

If all three of them are in one place, then I can stay in control of myself and my emotions. I use Kayla's creativity and technical skills. I utilize Lyka's passion to keep herself protected from outside forces. I use Kyla's calm, cool, and collectedness to go about tasks that would make the others collapse.

All together...this is me.

Launch

Hello readers. My name is Kayla, but online, people generally call me Tiki. Let's get down to business.

In 2013, I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder that extends to just about everything. I also seem to have social anxiety to a lesser degree. A few months prior, I learned that there was such a thing as an anxiety disorder and that a doctor could actually help you out with it. Ever since, I've been taking Zoloft and doing my best not to put too much stress on myself. This involved taking a break from college until I felt safe in an academic setting. I returned a year later, but it wasn't meant to be.

This year, I'm coping well, and I feel more like myself again. I'm making the same grades that I did my first semester, and I'm having fun instead of worrying about everything that could happen to the point of immobilizing myself in the doorway with fear.

Awhile ago, I joined Yik Yak, and I discovered that there are other people that feel like me posting their feelings where no one can find them and judge them for it. Every day, there's at least one yak about someone's depression or how they feel trapped by their mental health. About a week ago, it dawned on me that some of these people might be experiencing what I did during my second semester of college. Some of them might be just barely hanging on. Some might even still be here because of some anonymous acorn who told them things would be okay.

It made me think that there needs to be someone more accessible to help others with anxiety and other mental illnesses that seem to be so prominent among people my age and even younger. The best way to do this, I suppose, would be forming a group within my college campus to help support other students, but come on. I have anxiety, too. I have to give myself a mini pep talk before I answer a question in a class discussion. I highly doubt I'll be able to confidently run a group like that regardless of how important it would be for others to experience. That's also excluding the possibility of those who need the space feeling too anxious about being around other people and potentially being judged. What does it matter if we advertise is with safe space if someone's too afraid to come forward to see if it really is safe?

In lieu of that, I decided to make this blog and hope that someone who needs it will find it. I'm going to share my experiences and thoughts regarding my own struggle in a way I consider safe, and I'm about 99.9% sure that my usual blogs of choice are the opposite of safe. (One word: Tumblr.)

So here's to a good time posting and potentially helping another human being!