Feeling good

It’s hard to feel good about yourself. A lot of times our society parallels feeling good about yourself or being proud of an accomplishment with bragging.

But guess what, It’s taken me a long time to have something that I can be proud of myself for, and I fully intend on celebrating it.

Yesterday I threw out all the candy in my house. And the cookies. Aaaand the chips. And all the self deprecating humor (haha NOT.)

For the past two weeks, I’ve been working out at least every other day. It’s not much to be proud of, but I am.

Don’t EVER be afraid to be proud of yourself. Sometimes a little pride and bragging is just what you need to keep going 🙂

So how am I celebrating this momentous achievement! WITH CHEESECAKE!

Haha, just kidding. But I did say I didn’t throw away the self deprecating humor!


Acts of kindness

I haven’t really had many friends in the past, but now that I am in college I’ve found that people are much more mature than before, and take the time to actually get to know me before they judge me.


For the first time in my life, I feel popular. The other day in class, 2 people wanted to be my partner. Heck, I don’t think anyone has EVER asked me to be their partner. It was always me asking , and the answer was always “no.”

I’m still getting used to the fact that people want to be my friend without anything in return, and that when I ask if someone wants to hang out, I’m not burdening them.

The point was really driven home the other day at an APO meeting (the service fraternity I’m in.) The president of the club announced that they were considering partnering with the ASL club to learn sign language, because when I had a seizure I was trying to sign something and nobody understood. When she asked who was interested, every hand shot up.

I was so touched by their gesture that I didn’t have the heart to tell them that I don’t know sign language!

That darn word

First, let me introduce the purpose of this post:

I HATE the “r word.”

Now, to elaborate:

For those who don’t know, the r word refers to the word ” retarded.” I don’t understand why anyone would use it. It’s degrading, and unnecessary. It’s no longer the medical terminology, thanks to Rosa’s law in 2010, and if there’s any possibility of it hurting someone, why would you use it?

It’s really that simple. But I hear it all the time-and I’m a college student!

Let me tell you a little bit about myself- I’m a wimp. I avoid confrontation at ALL costs. I’d literally be the worst salesman in the world . Don’t get me wrong, I’m passionate and always speak my mind, but if someone disagrees with me, I’ll say “oh, yes, I totally agree.” Or “I could totally be wrong. Yep, you know what, I’m wrong.”

I can’t stick to my guns, because I don’t like arguments and I don’t like seeing people unhappy.

Which brings us to the original purpose of this post: the r word.

I hear it. And I cringe. And I open my mouth to say something…..

….and I shut it. I can’t do it. Despite how passionately I hate the r word and want to advocate the ‘@$& out of anyone who says it, I can’t. And it hurts that I can’t, because I know how much the word hurts, and it is my job to make people aware of it.

I tried it once. I heard an acquaintance say it like 4 times and when I called him out on it, he said “I didn’t say it.”

…”oh. Ok. My bad. Sorry.” The most awkward 30 seconds ensued and I CONVINCED myself that I was stupid and wrong when in reality, he had said the word- 4 TIMES!

Does anyone have any advice on how I can- to put it colloquially- “grow a pair?”

Minding my own business? Is it my business?

The other day one of my good friends posed a question- when you see someone in public who you think has Tourette’s- do you say something?

The first answer that comes to my mind is “are you crazy? Of course not! That’s none of my business!”

But I really want to ask. I really want to know that there’s somebody who understands.

So that poses the question- how do you ask?

“Hi sir, do you have Tourette’s?”


How about “Excuse me, you don’t know me but I KNOW YOU!”


Or this “at what age did you find out you have Tourette’s? Oh, 23? How old are you now? …..oh. 23.”

There’s just no good way to ask. And by this point, I have spent 20 minutes contemplating how to ask, and the person is gone. And I have realized how my desire to find someone who understands does not warrant inserting myself into someone else’s business….right?

But I still really want to ask 😦

How to make the best of the worst

While reading a TS forum, a parent shared that some bullies in her child’s school made a rap about her child’s tics. This brought back memories of middle school, where some bullies did the EXACT same thing to me. (See “the bully that everyone loved.”)

What it also brought back memories of was what I did to combat it. Their bullying was tearing me apart, but I wasn’t about to let them know that.

They would sing the rap between classes. It was a small school in the shape of a circle, and they made everyone walk the same way. (Dumb, I know.)

They would catch up with me around the third big turn (it wasn’t an exact circle) and start rapping as they came around the circle. I couldn’t avoid them because we all had to walk the same way (again, dumb.) I’d walk faster. I’d leave later. None of it worked.

….Well, if ya can’t beat em, join em!

No, don’t worry. I didn’t bully them back. Instead, I’d wait at the turn and as the walked around the corner, start beat boxing. That way, they could rap along with me, right?!

Wrong. Rapping was no longer cool. So they moved onto the next victim, and it was a whole 3 weeks before they bothered me again!

It’s the small victories in life …

When things get worse

The third week of school is approaching . Typically, at the beginning of school , my tics increase, and then start to decrease after I get into the swing of things.

Well, I’ve certainly gotten into the swing of things, but my tics have not gotten better. In fact, they’ve gotten steadily worse .

It’s not easy having tics , especially ones that are visible. As I walk to class, I can feel people staring at me. I want to tell them “I’m not actually weird! I’m actually a really nice person !” But nobody wants to make friends with the girl who screams “HAGRIDS buttcrack” every few seconds.

I fear that someone will confront me after I have my middle finger tic. I fear that the college won’t want me any more because I’m too much of a distraction. I fear that, even though my friends are soooo nice and supportive, they will tire of my tics quickly. I fear that people will think I’m faking, or just doing it for attention, since tics get better and worse and sometimes even go away for short periods of time.

I fear that people won’t understand that anything your body can do or say can be a tic, including SEEMINGLY purposeful movements and sounds , such as saying “the other day I went to the mall.” Even though it seems like a conversation starter, it’s actually a tic.

I know these fears are probably not valid. But thanks to OCD and anxiety, they’re not gonna go away. But a girl can dream, right?

Trials and errors, errors, and more errors

Do to you hate it when you think you’ve got everything out, but you don’t? (Profound, I know.)

I recently moved into a 1 bedroom apartment by myself to avoid the noise of having to live with others. My roommates last year were spectacular, but I wanted to try out living alone.

What could go wrong?

“Oh, our mistake. We had you down for a 4 bedroom again.”

“You can try to apply for a 1 bedroom again, we might have an opening.”

“Look, we have a 1 bed top floor open! Oh wait, we cleaned and prepped the wrong one. You’ll have to live underneath a bunch of stomping dinosaurs while you wait.”

“Yes, the unit is infested with black mold and puke stains, but at least there are no bugs…. Yet”

“Mail keys are overrated. Who needs mail anyways.”

“All our laundry card dispensers are broken. Ask your roommate if they have one. Oh, you don’t have a roommate? Too bad. Guess you’re gonna smell.”

NONE of this was a deal breaker, despite the obnoxiousness of it all. However, I moved into a top floor 1 bedroom to avoid noise since I have sensory processing issues. I wouldn’t mind that they built my apartment above the stairs if they had made the walls out of something other than cardboard and maybe, ya know, insulated it?

But they didn’t. And I can hear every footstep going up each of those three flights of laminate stairs. And I can hear every door open and close. And I can hear every thing you say to your roommate and your mom on the phone. And I have an ear infection from wearing earplugs and headphones 24/7.