Walk Over Me

A broken relationship is like shattered glass- you're left trying to figure out which of the pieces can be put back together, and why you broke the goddamn thing in the first place. I think the longer I stand there, staring at the pieces; re-shuffling and glueing, losing bits here and crushing other bits there, the more I just want to sort of sit down with every single piece in my hands, and just hold them there forever.

I am obviously doing very poorly right now. Some days are better than others, some days are terrible. I came home this weekend, and walked into a home filled with memories and knick knacks that I didn't have to deal with before, and its quickly turning things towards the ugly side. I also had to talk about the whole ordeal (at least, the generic bits, the gritty details are no one else's buisiness) to someone in-person for the first time, and it was like watching a tunnel narrow until everything turned dark. I'm told that things will get better. I guess I'll just wait for that to hurry up and happen.

Sorry for the misery. I'll post something kind, and smiley next time around. Pinky Promise.

A Quick Thought

Its days like today that I truely appreciate college life. How else would I get to experience what its like to own one bowl, one fork, one spoon, a single cup and a fridge filled with only pudding, milk, and free ketchup packets from the campus burger king?

Whirlwinds

College has been a strange entity so far. While I am adjusted (mostly) to my schedule and the habits I've adopted and the people I am around, I can't fight the feeling that its temporary. Its as if my body thinks I'm at some sort of hardcore summer camp, and in another month I will wake up one day, pack everything into a dusty duffel bag, and head home.
This mindset bothers me, A. because I am going to be here (hopefully) for another four or five years and B. because I'm trying as hard as I can to make college my life. I don't want to feel as if things are temporary anymore, I'm looking for a sense of solidity. Something I can hold onto. But for some reason, I feel more like a guest here than a resident. The sad part is that when I go home, I know I'm going to feel like a guest there too, because I will be living out of a travel bag for the weekend. Am I doomed to not feel at home for the next four-five years?
Part of the guest feeling probably has a lot to do with my new(ish) tendency to clean, often. I've always been an untidy person in a strange way- I will throw my clothes on the floor, but only in a specific spot, my desk may be a mess, but I can feel myself getting flustered the longer it stays that way. Knowing that the inside of a drawer is disorganized makes me cringe, and want to clean it. I have cleaned out my wardrobe, desk, under my bed, and the cabinets in the bathroom more times then I can count since I have been here. Its not the mess that really bother me either- its the little things like crooked sheets and lopsided pieces of paper that really drives me up a wall. I can have five million things cluttering a desk- so long as they're all equal distance apart and arranged in some sort of order.
So as I settle into college, I can see a litle bit more of my more obsessive side begin to peek its head out of the water, which I expected coming here. After all, a new place with all new people and an all new schedule calling for all new routines was bound to have an affect on me. For the first week, the impact showed intself largely in panic and anxiety attacks. Now, I'm becoming more compulsive, because being able to restore some sort of order helps me feel better about the realization that this is the longest I've been away from my hometown in my entire life, and while I'm making friends and hanging out with people I still don't entirely know what to do with myself. But I guess the biggest thing to do is take this all one step at a time, and try to get my head centered as best as I can.

A Dream Upon Waking

Maybe its the new enviornment, or the stress, or maybe I really am finally going crazy- but ever since I moved into my dorm room I've begun to have strange dreams. They're dreams that, if I had one every once in awhile it wouldn't bother me so much, but having one or two each night is beginning to concern me.
The dreams themselves are not exactly nightmares, although a great deal of them are disturbing. Most of them seem to speak to the errors of human nature via things we find as a society to be particularly horrific. The thing I think bothers me most is that when I myself am placed within the dream, I'm not doing anything. I just observe the hellish things going on around me, in comparison to other dream I will have in the same night that puts me center stage in whats going on. What does it mean when I witness terrible things but I don't seem to exist in the situation? What does it say when I am only an observer, I can't help the situation?
I'm trying to figure out if the dreams are speaking of a fear of mine- that I will only be able to observe issues, never take place in the solution, or are the dreams telling me that that outcome is already inevitable, because of the path I'm on? I've always believed in the power of dream interpretation- it helped me cope through very, very difficult times- but because I'm only able to interpret certain aspects of my dreams and only when I spend a long time thinking about it, I'm afraid that I'm not interpreting with accuracy in this case.

Peeling Back The Curtain

Throughout my high school career I only dated a handful of guys. And by a handful, I mean that from freshman year to senior year there were three. Each of them were different, each was compatible to a different part of me, and some of them I dated more than once, with the blind hope that "this time, it would be different".
Shortly after graduation I got back together with one of these guys. He was the one I had dated the most often, the one who being with was as easy as breathing. The one I (stupidly) could see myself marrying. We spent the entire summer in love, we worked through conflicting schedules and barely being able to see each other. And even though we were going to college a few hours away from each other, we decided to see if the relationship would survive. Both of us believed that it could. We expected it to.
Last week that relationship fell apart. Its amazing how quickly something so powerful can splinter into nothingness. We went from being convinced of our future, to not having one in a matter of days. And I'm not writing this to point blame at either one of us, because in the end, what does it really matter what went wrong? We each relinquished our end of the relationship- starting with me, and soon afterwards he did as well.
Since the breakup a few days ago I've been burying myself in creative endeavors, trying to remind myself who I was before this summer. Its been a strange sense of relief, that through the intensity of everything I can still create. I'm writing again, and I'm connecting with people. I believe that the latter is because in a way, I lost a connection that I held onto very tightly. Now that that connection is gone, my need to create new connections has heightened.
So I guess the reader (you) would be wondering why I would talk about this publically. Aren't I afraid he will read what I've written? To a degree, yes. I don't want it to be taken out of context, and I don't want to be seen as cruel. However I am doing this "project", so to speak, to network through honesty. And right now, this situation is at the forefront of my life. So if he reads this then there is little that I can do about it. Would I be upset if he did the same? Probably, depending on what he was saying. But being a hypocrite is sorta the axel on which my life spins. For now, I'm just trying to balance something new among a million other new things. And I guess this is the first sign that some of these things, I'm going to fail at. But its the way I pick up after that failure, how I get everything back on track and plunge ahead, that categorizes how my life will be.

Starbucks Should Make Decorative Tiles

One of the difficult things about living on campus freshman year is that, like most colleges, I'm not allowed to have a car. I suppose since I don't actually own one I shouldn't be bothered by it that much anyway, but overall it definately cuts down on the amount of time any freshman is able to spend off-campus. Its annoying in many ways, one of those being the inability to buy food for the dorm or find something that you forgot to bring from home. Even if you do have a car, the parking lots are a decent distance from the residence halls anyway, so its a five minute walk just to find the car in the expansive lots.

However some students have special permission to have cars on campus (for off-campus jobs and lessons and things) so last night I went out with a few girls to Target, in search of dishtowels, pillows, and a lamp. We did our thing, grabbed dinner (Starbucks and Pizza Hut in a Target? Sold!) got back to campus, and began the attempt at manuevering our way to the residence halls. The other girls were loaded down with either a lot of bags or bulky items. I had just one bag, but I was banancing two small pizza boxes and a starbucks frappachino in my right hand.

Inside every residence hall is a check-in desk, where you swipe your I.D. before you can go up to your room. Its an annoying but also relieving part of the security system. Anyway, we all ambled over to this desk to swipe our cards and just as I went to slide the pizza boxes onto the desk to retrieve my card, the half-full starbucks frappuchino went sliding towards the slate floor, tipped upside down until the exact moment of impact, where the lid seperated from the cup and the innards of the beverage actually propelled itself throughout every inch of the room. The projection itself was the most shocking thing at all- because, as I said before, it was only half full, and it had been the smallest size to begin with.

So now the floor, and a few innocent bystanders, are covered in frappuchino and the only option (well no, thats a lie, the quickest option) was to go four feet into the public bathrooms(one of those single- toilet room deals) in search of paper towels. There weren't any. The bathroom was equipt with the epitome of "clean"-esque machinery; motion-sensored toilet, sink, and hand dryer- no paper towels to be found.

I guess at that point I should have just gone up to my room to grab the roll of paper towels balanced on top of my microwave, but I was all about "efficiency" at that point, and decided instead to use half a roll of economy sized toilet paper to clean up my mess instead. So for the subsequent ten minutes I ran back and forth from the bathroom, attempting to clean up frappuchino with 0 ply toilet paper from a bathroom whose machinery turned on every time i ran past, giving the over effect of having the toilet flush every time i left the room- announcing my arrival to the "scene" with a glorious flush every.single.time.

They definately left this sort of adventure out of those College Pamphlets.

The Third First Entry.

Two days ago I tried to post an entry on this blog. Yesterday I tried to post another. We are now on day three and still no post.
This is typical for me- I am constantly re-thinking, re-organizing, and throwing away old things in my life and trying to replace them with something else. I had a website before this, but I'm trying to start fresh.
I guess one of the reasons I decided to start from scratch (yet again) is because I started my first semester of college last week. Its a tiny, but decent college just outside of NYC that has a little bit of everything. So far the college itself has a few kinks it needs to work out- there has been a lot of miscommunication between the administrative offices, but everyone is incredibly friendly and there are a lot of comforts the school offers that make up for the other things.
Of course, as I expected, I've struggled with a few things now that I've been here for a few days. Panic attacks and Paranoia, which I've always experienced at home, have intensified a lot since class ended on Thursday. I've also been cleaning like a crazy person- cleansing every surface and sweeping every few days. I don't have a roommate (a story for another day) so its just me in a room with twice as much furniture as I need. Overall I'm doing okay- I'm making friends and being more social then I tend to be at home, despite the anxiety I've felt overtaing me almost all day today and most of yesterday. I've found myself having to do a lot of soul searching recently, but hopefully I'll be able to come out the other end okay. As I've mentioned before, I very much expected this.
So if you're still reading at this point and you're wondering what you can expect from me in the future- well, here it goes:
My name, for the purposes of this blog, is Luna Marie. Luna after an old internet name i associate myself with and Marie after my mother, who I miss terribly even though we drove each other crazy when I lived at the house. I'm going to be talking about college a lot, what its like, how i'm dealing with it, and how my anxiety manifests itself during this time. Maybe that seems too personal to put on the internet- but I've always needed to use words to express myself, and I've always found solace in the stories of others. I guess I'm hoping that if I write these things on here, someone who needs to will stumble across this blog and know they're not the only one out there who is trying not to struggle with this adjustment. After all, I know I'm not alone- so why pretend that I am?

More to come,
Luna Marie