Dear Santa...

Dear Santa, you are probably wondering why on earth I would be writing you a letter. I have to admit, as an almost 18-year old, my belief in you is about as strong as my belief in that I'll become a Powerpuff Girl one day. But why shouldn't I believe in you just because I got older? I've outgrown you, the tooth fairy, and well I never believed in the Easter bunny to begin with. If people can still believe in God or multiple gods when I don't, or at least have faith, then why can't I have faith in something that seems a little ridiculous?

I doubt that you'll have time to read this letter - after all it's already December and you're busy making toys and iPads for the kids of the world, but I still have things I want to wish for... I know you can't grant every wish - even fairy godparents can't, but I'm hoping your magic can do something.

1. I want to come out to my family and not have them judge me. They have never been rude or anything towards homosexuality, but I feel like me being bisexual would just give them more reason to be disappointed in me. I can tell that they aren't thrilled with who I've become.
2. I want to get into UIUC. It's my dream school, and I'll cry if I don't get in.
3. I want a significant other - boy or girl. I'm nervous to try being with another guy, for reasons I've blogged about time and time again, but there is this one guy I wouldn't mind being with. He's extremely confusing and random, just like all of my friends, yet still something I haven't encountered before. I know you probably can't make people fall in love, but if you can somehow erase the nervousness or ask Cupid to push us a little closer together, that would be nice - I'll try to take it from there.
4. I want my friends to be happy. A lot of them aren't happy for different reasons. Maybe you could give them all puppies.
5. I'd like a puppy too. I might have to wait till I get my own place though - my mom isn't an animal person.
6. I want to be able to spend my life without worrying if my depression will take over me. I hate feeling suicidal. I've held off from harming myself for 8 years now - how much longer can I handle that?
7. I want my mom to be... less of a pain. She has anger issues, but I'm sure that if anyone tried to tell her that, she's bite their head off. My grandma already tried telling her about it, and my mom has little respect for her.
8. I want there to be a cure for Autism. My brothers have been affected by it for 19 years now, and it's been a burden on them, me, my mom, and my whole family. Imagine the other families struggling to stay together because of the problems Autism causes for them.
9. I want to meet my father, just so I can find out why he isn't here now.
10. I know this is a job far beyond your power, but if you ever get a chance, could you help end world suffering? You know: famine, poverty, disease, bullying, senseless murder, all of those terrible things. If Pandora held a box with all the sin and evil that would ever plague the world, then why can't someone who created them and put them in the box in the first place be able to put them back? I know you don't have all the answers, Santa - I'm just wondering.

There are plenty of other things I would love to do with my life - I have career goals and ideas and such, but I'd rather do those on my own. All I'm asking for is for you to give me a reason to keep trying to get to my future. I know suicide seems like the coward's way out, but there are so many problems and questions that I just can't deal with anymore. If you could give me at least one of the things on my list, then I'll try harder to live my life.

Love, Jerica

P.S. I try to leave some cookies out for you.

"A Steaming Cup Of S.O.S."

"A steaming cup of S.O.S."

This is a picture I drew. Notice the person standing on the spoon is holding a sign that says S.O.S. S.O.S. is my abbreviation for Stop Our Suffering, a name I came up with for an organization that I have not yet started. I wanted to start SOS for people like me and my friends who usually suffer in silence and either don't go get help or can't get help for the problems that they have no control over in life.

The idea of it being a teacup and having people trapped in a teabag, that came to me out of nowhere. I guess it's somewhat morbid, but I don't bother trying to scold my brain for what it comes up with anymore. I like my drawing - it's different from the poems I usually put in my sketchbook, which was bought for the purpose of me drawing in it.

An Old Sample College Essay of mine.

I'm busy writing college essays right now, and I remembered one practice essay that I wrote a couple years ago in a college readiness program. Right now, I'm writing an essay for a school and it must be no more than 300 words. My old essay is over 700 words. -_- You can see how hard it is for me to cut down my words on this new essay. But I really like my old, 732 word essay, so I will post it here. And if I ever finish with my other college essays, then I will post them here too.

    I’m used to “being the other one.” My brothers always take the spotlight, their autism disability making them the V.I.P.s of my life. I’ve missed out on numerous experiences and put countless things on hold because Julian’s and Jordan’s needs come first. Julian personally makes sure that he gets taken care of, no matter what the obstacles are: his inability to talk, his inexplicable dislike of Jordan, authority figures, locks… There’s a reason we call him the “Tazmanian Devil”, but sometimes he’s nothing more than a troublesome lost puppy.

    One time, I was at a SibShop event – a program for kids who have siblings with autism – when my mom told me that Julian was in the hospital. I was terrified – my mom wouldn’t tell me what happened, and I kept assuming he got hit by a car. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case. Julian had apparently crawled over Jordan, climbed out of our van, and went into the store my mother had gone in. He had to go to the bathroom, and my mom always takes him to the women’s restroom with her, but since he couldn’t find her, he went on his own. Well, a woman was more than a little shocked to see a guy (Julian looked like a grown man by then) sitting with his pants down in the women’s restroom, and she called security. The guard tried to talk to Julian, but since Julian can’t talk, the guard labeled him as nonresponsive. As a result, Julian got pepper-sprayed; we took him to the hospital so the doctors could stop the effect of the pepper-spray in his eyes, and when he was better, we went to the police station so that Julian could get his mug shot. Now this event is his criminal record. I didn’t go back to my SibShop meeting that night, but everyone was quite amused when I told them at the next meeting.

    Not every experience with him is so comical. Once, my mom had taken Julian to the bathroom at White Castles, and she was walking him back to the car when he got out of her grip and took off. I was so used to my mom taking care of my brothers at this time that it never occurred to me to help her until she was yelling at me to run after him. I didn’t know what he was headed for, but he was already darting across the street so I ran to catch him before he got hurt. Somehow, not a single car was on the road when he got halfway across the 4-lanes, but as soon as I set foot on the street, traffic flows again. I couldn’t believe my rotten luck as his guardian angel helped him as he flapped his arms, still running ahead. We made it across the street, and as I caught him at a gas station, I noticed this boy was running to his favorite restaurant: Popeye’s. He was blissfully ignorant to the dangers that threatened his life while I’m still scared to cross the street with him.

    Julian has certainly taught me about perseverance. But he’s also taught me that I’m stronger than I thought. I showed my bravery when I ran after him across traffic and when I have to push Julian back when he’s mad so he doesn’t hurt Jordan. I practice patience when I have to listen to countless sing-along tapes with high-pitched mice and chipmunks, or Julian’s high-pitched squeals, or Jordan’s constant chatter. When my mom is ready to pull her hair out, I’m ready to take over and help keep these boys content. I feel like I helped raise them. And most importantly, these boys taught me that I can deal with any obstacle. If I need help, I will not rest until I get it. No one can bully me or talk about me because I won’t listen to what they say. When I thought my autistic brothers were my biggest obstacle for what I want to do in life, they actually became my biggest drive to become as strong as them. Their disabilities have put them at a disadvantage, but Jordan and Julian help me as much as I’ve helped them. If they can keep trying to take care of themselves and work to get what they need, then so can I.

"When life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means that it's going to launch you into something great."

The ups and downs of depression are entirely frustrating. It seems like every time I post on my blog, I go from a happy and hopeful post to a "woe is me" post, as if my blog itself is bipolar.

I'm not exactly sure how to phrase it, but yesterday, one of my "friends" kind of... molested me. I can't find a better word for it. All the seniors had a field trip to a movie theatre to watch a documentary b/c most of the school was taking practice tests, and I don't know, it's just, the whole time after the lights dimmed, he was... I just... okay if I don't write what happened now then I'm not helping myself at all. He was touching my breasts, and I'll explain right now that that wasn't a red flag for me b/c my friends and I have been known to do that for a while now. I know it's stupid, but I've had an apathetic attitude since 6th grade, and that includes not caring if people invade my personal space, unless they touch my stomach b/c it reminds me that I am not comfortable with my weight - I have a lot of issues. He was laying on my shoulder and kept touching me, but what raised a red flag was that he kissed my hand - numerous times. Even when I pulled my hand away, shrugged away from him, turned to face my other friend, or tried to keep him from taking my hand again by folding my arms and not letting in easily, he did not get the hint. When the movie was over and we were leaving, he kept hugging me from behind and I told him stop and moved his arms off of me, he still didn't get it. Back at school, I was still uncomfortable with him and he was still with me and my three friends, and I told two of my friends what happened, and Brandon was like "why didn't you say something?" In fact, most of my friends asked that same question when I told them - I still can't find an answer. One of my other "friends", Loretta, kept messing w/ me, sending me texts saying "He's next to you" and "Is he bothering u?" when she was right behind me. I didn't find it funny and she was getting on my nerves. Then she kept calling my name when I tried ignoring her. When we left the auditorium, I blew up and shouted.

"YOU'RE A BITCH (Loretta) AND YOU'RE A PERVERT (Andre) AND I WISH YOU WOULD JUST LEAVE ME THE F*** ALONE!!" and I stormed off. A minute later, Brandon came after me and tried to cheer me up. And then I noticed that Andre was still following.

I had just yelled at him, loud enough for others to hear, clearly voicing my disgust and anger, and yet he was still hanging around! Brandon sensed how awkward the situation was, so he continued to make things more awkward by saying random observations like "The sky is really blue today." I understand he didn't know how to fix things, and that's fine. Andre was still with us when we stopped to get food, and eventually he left on his own. Brandon was upset w/ me for not saying anything during the movie, but I really couldn't find any words. I couldn't verbally tell Andre to stop, I couldn't ask Brandon for help, I really couldn't say anything except "please sit next to me on the bus, Brandon."

I've told a few more of my friends what happened, and they were all in Anime Club, so they offered to talk to him. I just... didn't want to get involved.

The next day in Anime Club, we were watching anime... in the dark. I felt panicky and made sure I wasn't sitting near Andre, but all I could do was focus on him, and after an episode of anime, I got up and went for a walk. I couldn't handle being in the dark with him again. When I came back to the room later, he was gone, and my friend Sheridane said that she talked to him and told him it wasn't right, and he said okay. I really want this to all go away.

It just doesn't make any sense. Why do I keep having bad things happen to me? Why is it, even after all the triumphs I've made, I still find it hard to talk to people? I hate interviewing people even for a short question, and I'm a reporter, so that's a huge problem. I couldn't tell Andre to stop, or tell Brandon I needed help, and I even felt awkward telling my friends what happened. I really only told Brandon, Loretta, and Sheridane, but the group overheard me telling Sherry what happened, and so I explained it like five or six times.

What made matters worse was that I was really looking forward to getting the courage to talk to the girl I fawned over in two blog posts ago, but she wasn't even there today and I never see her around school. I felt like crying again today, but nothing actually fell. Some of my friends like Sherry and Ignacio could tell I was upset and kept bothering me to tell them why, but I just don't feel like explaining myself anymore. My best friends tried to make a joke of it, saying they would get me a mail order bride, and "kidding aside, you'll find someone some day. and they're probably battling the same demons so then you can battle demons together and be happy! right! because demons cancel out demons." I couldn't laugh, I just told them I wasn't going to talk right now. I don't think they were hurt - they just left the chat to do homework.

All I've been doing right now is listening to Coldplay and blogging my heart out. I just don't see why I keep dealing with shit like this. I'm highly unstable, and all I want to do right now is cry again, and do my homework and finish high school and finish my college applications and get accepted and go and get my career and just leave my stupid problems behind, but even if I could do that, the most random-ass new problems would pop up and next thing you know I'm gonna be found dead in my apartment.

I really don't want that to happen. I really, really, really want to live. I just don't want to live this life anymore.

Going back to the quote - the picture and the title of this post - I have to say that when I read the quote, it really filled me with hope for a minute. And I'd still like to believe that it is true - I mean I highly expect it to be true. I just wonder how long I'm going to have to keep pulling before I can finally break free.

Minesweeper

With my family, I sometimes feel like I'm playing a game of Minesweeper. It is a game that I am not particularly good at, and I am pretty careless with how I play because I don't know how to play with a strategy and I will always lose eventually, but I just have this desire to play it because it keeps me busy and doesn't require much focus.

I think of the game as me dealing with my family. I don't know how to do it correctly, but I still associate with them. I need to keep myself distracted until I can worry about my own personal problems in the future when I have my own life. If I make one wrong move, then it's game over and a massive explosion happens that you didn't expect and it can be devastating. I never know when something is going to explode and I can't avoid it, so I just have to keep clicking away. That's the only way to play the game - just click away and hope for the best. But the worst part is, no matter how many times you lose, the game starts right back up again for you to try and fail. It never ends, there will always be more hidden explosives to avoid in life. You just have to hope for the best.

One of my friends pointed out a quote I said in one of previous blog posts: "Friendship is my oxygen." I still agree with this, only now, I'm afraid that no matter how much oxygen I have, I still don't have the proper help. Air only gets you as far as living. You need a whole lot more to make sure you stay alive.

Thank You

Busy fingers today - three blog posts? It's as if I have important things to say now... oh wait, I do.

There is someone I haven't put the spotlight on yet, and she's been here helping me since before I started writing this blog.

She's a beautiful person inside and out, and I love her for not judging me when I tell her my problems. When I first met her, my only thought was "thank Bob we won't have to deal with our regular teacher for awhile!" A little mean, but I'm not the first person in history to think that. As time went on, she helped me realize that poetry is great for more than expressing your sad feelings, and that Shakespeare can actually make sense, and that Hamlet was bad-ass, and that Doctor Who and Hamlet can fit together like Paramore and dubstep (for those of you who don't know, that is an amazing collaboration and should always exist). Even when she stopped being our teacher, she stayed in my life and let me babble on about my life and talked with me, and she is my top commenter.

I'm glad you were there, because I wouldn't have started blogging in the first place if it weren't for you. And who knows what would've happened without this outlet.

Hugs and lemon bars. <3

P.S. I will try my best to stop being such a Negative Nancy. How about a Neutral Noelle for now? :)