I am awkward

This stupid lady who owns like a scammy modeling agency interviewed me to be a nanny for her... "you're not here for modeling are you...?" sizing me up.  me, "no..." her, " oh good..."  ok now that we started off on such a great note, no I will not cook, clean, and watch your kids every day for 8 dollars an hour. Also I don't know how to talk to boys anymore.

Hot oil to the face.... yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss. actually no, but miraculously I am fine.

Long story short, we were cooking a Korean feast for Thanksgiving. The rice cake exploded into my face and eyes, all of the oil did anyway. I thought I would have third degree burns, or go blind or something, but as stated above I was completely fine, aside from some minor embarrassment and a slight amount of trauma. As silly as it sounds I feel like it is a strong statement about my mission. I was protected and watched over continually, despite some pretty wild things happening to me.

한국 서울 (Korea Seoul)

저는 행복하게 살겠습니다 ^^

삶은 아름답습니다           Here is my Seoul Korea photo dump.  Enjoy

Daft punk is playing in my house...

one of these days I'm going to stop being nocturnal.  knowing who my friend thinks would be a good "match" for me in the singles ward has made things awkward...well I guess I'm the one who made it that way...  The other night talking to my friend's mom after watching the U game, everyone wants to know who she thinks in the ward should go out (utah culture) first they ask about me and she says she won't say with me there, then  they ask her about this one guy who is kind of cute but a little strange (I've known him from the last time I was in the ward before I left for korea)  (and who isn't a little strange these days I suppose...) so she says, "I haven't discussed this with Amanda yet" .... uhhhh... now fast forward to tonight, he sits by me and says hi and I respond, "hhuuhhhi" (I don't quite know how to depict it, but it was awkward)  then he asks what I've been up to and I respond, "I don't even know anymore"  In my head I was just thinking, "ohmygosh he KNOWS"  that I like him? no... that someone thinks I should like him/he should like me.  what the heck?!  hahaha.  I kill myself.  In reality though we are probably perfect for each other. (except he is wayyy older than me and he loves asians and sadly I am not asian, and also he drinks).  But my subconscious doesn't want to get married anyhow, I keep having nightmares about it.

my dad was strangely excited when he saw that i painted my dresser and desk so now he wants me to finish making my room look good by painting picture frames and such.

And later I got in trouble for not finishing it. Haha. Granted it was mostly something to keep me busy and out of the way. It was therapeutic and I didn't really care how it turned out. The process helped me through the lonely times of being one of those "I came home early" RMs. Looking back yeah I would have tried to reach out more, but I am grateful for all that I keep learning from times like those.

I have begun my seasonal addiction to knitting and crocheting once again.

Real

 (i've posted this before but I am doing it again so na)

To Become Real

"...Generally by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints, and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." (The Skin Horse from The Velveteen Rabbit)

The Velveteen Rabbit is one of my favorite books from my childhood. If you have never read it or had it read to you I recommend you go here: The Velveteen Rabbit

The excerpt above has always stuck in my mind, but I don't think I ever realized the magnitude and depth of this seemingly simple children's story until just now. As I watched this again on YouTube I found myself beginning to tear up. The wise words of the Skin Horse ring out, "He knew that they were only toys and that they would never turn into anything else." Throughout my life I have always felt to some degree a sense of my invisibility, whether by my own misgivings or not. Quickly forgotten and easily tossed aside like the Velveteen Rabbit, I wanted to become Real. It's about loving, and being loved, and with that love inevitably comes pain. Pain is what shapes us, making us Real, giving us abilities that go beyond present concerns.

"When you are real, you don't mind being hurt."
That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or who have sharp edges, or have to be carefully kept"

You have to become real, and once you do, it lasts. I believe that to become real is the most beautiful thing one can become.

"...once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

"you're not safe in your own family"
so what do you do when the person who has basically caused all the trauma in your life wants to "help" you? When you are supposed to go somewhere safe in order to heal, but nowhere is safe? You tell your mom and she just catastrophizes and wishes she never would have gotten married and starts blaming herself. They wonder what you talked about in counseling but you can't really just say, 'well you traumatized me and that caused my brain to create an extreme emotional response to any situation in which I don't feel safe, even though rationally  and psychologically I am fully aware that I don't have to react that way.  So telling me to just not let it bother me, or 'just get over it' is just about the least helpful thing you could ever say.
Memories can continually be unzipped and re-zipped with new emotions every time you recall them..  this is why exposure therapy doesn't work when the trauma keeps coming back.  you have to feel safe in order to progress.  Finally a psychologist who is helpful, who doesn't scold me and make me feel like I have more problems than I really have.  But I have to keep it inside still.  So for all of you who told me to "just be happy"  "don't let it bother you" get over it" etc.  I pity you.
You will never understand.

Lifeness

So I just had an out of body/near death experience with trying to swallow a pill.  So in this quest for health which I have set out upon since returning from korea I have been put on a regimen of supplements due to a rare genetic condition which everyone on my dad's side of the family has.  The good news is that I feel a lot better when I take these pills.  The downside is that I have to take about 12423455 of them every single morning and this morning my throat stood up for itself and then that set off my gag reflex with the pill stuck in my throat for what seemed like 6 years.  But I'm okay now in case any of you were wondering. Holla.  I think the Prozac has had its last little stab since I stopped taking it a couple of weeks ago.  Panic attacks in the middle of 'super FHE' are not fun in case you were inclined to think they are. Also if you've never had a panic attack I'm sad to say you will never understand.  Once in 4 weeks is a lot better than 1 a day though, that's for sure. 
Anywho, that's my life as of late.

Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise

so i kind of went crazy on pinterest.  had a hilarious time with my family.  I'm getting a car! and it's a stick shift!  a little scared to drive again though since it has been over six months...
my sister has to get surgery because her ulnas (ulni?) are too long...crazy.
I have to get an ultrasound tomorrow...no I am not pregnant.  They have to figure out why my immune system has started attacking itself.  Hooray!  I painted my horrible blonde-veneer-from-the-90's-desk and dresser combo all black and my room looks awesome.  I still don't want to date, but I am growing out my hair, maybe it will be longer enough by the time a certain boy gets home except what the heck I barely know him and am best friends with his mom...let's see how that one works out.  Anywho that is my life right now for anyone who cares.  mostly I am too lazy to bust out my journal right now and my shoulder hurts.

the mission psychologist called me and said he was baffled that I was the only missionary to have experienced such severe side-effects from prozac.  Really dude? you’re not supposed to make me feel like I’m hopeless and messed up… that’s kinda the reason I was talking to you in the first place, to get over that.  But now that I’m off the prozac and on the supplements, I am me again.  I can think and feel and be normal and not have headaches and importantly I can laugh and cry again.  Life is good.

anxiety

I had another dream last night that was pretty vivid.  A guy I went on an awful blind date with about a year ago happened to be at a friend’s house last night so in my dream somehow I got talked into going out with him again and next thing you know I was married to him.  I was in my parents house and in the bathroom when it hit me that I had somehow let myself get talked into marrying him.  I came into the room where he was and confronted him saying we shouldn’t have gotten married because he didn’t even break up with his girlfriend first and I knew he only wanted to have sex.  Then my dad came in the room and said he supported us getting our own place but wanted us to know he would be visiting every day and he was going to buy a gun.  I was wearing sweat pants and a hoodie and said I was going to go to sleep but he wouldn’t let me (the guy I married).  He started pulling lingerie out of his backpack and said I had to put it on.    I freaked out and ran away, at first I made it only to my front yard and he was coming after me yelling and was threatening to bash my head in with a rolled up sheet (I don’t even know…) but my sister protected me and then my mom was there showing off her new blue shiny robe so she wasn’t much help at that time so I took off running and ended up at the house of the family of the guy who I wanted to write a letter to.  I desperately wanted to talk to his mom but I couldn’t find their front door anywhere.  I climbed in through a window and their house was like on stilts and no real rooms, just stuff hanging everywhere like mattresses suspended from the ceiling so I climbed in and ended up on the bed of one of their son’s and woke him up but he told me to climb a little higher and talk to his mom so I sat on their bed for a while and talked to her and she said she would help me get everything straightened out.

Update: I just reread this and for some reason I can't stop laughing. I mean, it really was a terrifying dream. But it is kind of hilarious and telling about my fears. Very symbolic. 

you're my air when I can't breathe

I found out that my immune system literally is attacking itself so that explains why I have been feeling the way I have been…
I feel better though.  Not 100% but at least psychologically I am no longer inept/drugged.  I realized it’s perfectly okay to take time for myself.  I don’t have to beat myself up anymore.  I can’t stop thinking about this boy I barely know.  It’s ridiculous. I want to write him, but I don’t.  I had an interesting dream last night…
… I was with my companion Sister Ellis and we went to a big meeting with all the missionaries and to get to the group we were supposed to climb up these huge rocks.  She didn’t look back once to make sure I was doing okay and I kept getting stuck and feeling like a failure because I couldn’t keep up with her.  I finally got to the top and I couldn’t find her anywhere.  I was in distress because I needed her and she was gone and no matter how many times I called her name she wouldn’t come back.  I sat down and started crying.  Then a lady from my ward was there comforting me.  For some reason I had some extra clothes with me and I lost them and then we had to go back and climb some other rocks to get out and everyone was behind me, impatiently waiting for me to get over the hardest part to the top.  I was stuck and scared and then all of the sudden I felt this insane pain in my left calf muscle like someone was slicing it open with a knife.  I looked down and realized that a few of my ex boyfriends were there and one of them was cutting me and I was bleeding and it hurt so bad, but as hard as I tried I couldn’t get away from it.  Then I looked up and saw a hand.  This boy I met once from my mission, but can’t stop thinking about.  He grabbed my hand and pulled me to safety.  He hugged me and all was well.
Sometimes I hate my subconscious.  But better things will come.