Inspiration

If you need a different perspective on life:

Looks like a black sheet with sparkles, doesn't it? This actually a view from the Hubble Telescope. My professor showed this in class, and I nearly cried. Each of those sparkles aren't stars or moons or planets; those sparkles are GALAXIES. So imagine yourself as one in 7 billion on Earth, then imagine yourself in relation to our entire galaxy. Then look at this picture. Where are you here?

It just made me see how each of us, no matter what we do in the world, is just a tiny little less-than-a-speck in the grand scheme of things.

My Epiphany

I've been doing night duty taking care of my grandma, who is--for the most part--successfully recovering from her surgery, so I spend many nights quietly in room and reflecting on my life. Ever since I returned home from Europe, I'd been back to my old ways of feeling sorry for myself, realizing what I'm lacking, remembering all the horrible memories. I don't recall feeling like this while in Europe, and I think it's because I knew I was experiencing something most people don't get the opportunity to have, so I considered myself lucky. Now that I'm back, 15 pounds heavier than my very heaviest weight, with no friends with whom to socialize and have fun, my self-pity was easy to return to.

Let me say that I've been in therapy on-and-off since I was 15. 15! Maybe I've known some pretty well-balanced people, but no one I knew had as many mental problems as I had at 15. So here I was now trying to work on myself by myself. I always feel it's beneficial to put into practice all that you learn in therapy. I tried moving forward, immediately erasing any bad thoughts in my head, not obsessing over people on Facebook. But no matter what bad memories kept popping into my head, feelings of worthlessness made me want to compare my "pitiful" life to others' more exciting ones. Although I've had more happy days than sad ones, I still felt bad for myself and craved for more--more friends, achievements, and just more things to be proud of.

During one of my quiet nights, my epiphany finally hit. I can't tell you exactly what led up to it, but I remember exactly where on my bed I was sitting when my "a-ha" moment came at me like a flash. I have to be honest here, which leads me to admit some embarrassing details: I'm pretty sure I was at least somewhat influenced by Phoebe Buffet on Friends. I've recently kept up with the syndication on Nickelodeon, and I adore the character: she's quirky, doesn't care what people think, doesn't follow social norms, and most of all, she's thoughtful and moral. I realized I have spent SO much time striving for better. I read about people and hear people's stories about going to a good school, having loads of friends, getting scholarships and honors, and having a good job. Maybe that's not the life for me. God knows I'm not particularly academic or a social butterfly. I've never been good at accepting myself because a) I just wasn't happy enough with myself, and b) I thought it would be akin to giving up on myself. But then on my epiphany night, I realized, "What's so bad about 'giving up on myself.'?"

Now hear me out: Think of all that seems to be occupying your mind you at this moment. How many of those problems involve YOU? I know a lot of mine have. I wanted to be successful. I wanted to have a lot of friends. But it wasn't happening for me, which was why I was always depressed. But I look at other aspects of my life, like my family, and I realize how lucky I am. My grandma basically nearly died--in fact, she may have died and then been resurrected--after the first surgery's complications, no one had a tragic life or death, and my mom...I am the luckiest person to be the daughter of such an amazing woman. How can my life be so horrid if I look at everything else outside myself that is so wonderful?

And I think of my mom. She's a simple woman; she constantly says how she doesn't need much to be happy. At first, I'll be frank, I felt sorry that she expected so little out of life. Not until now do I see what she meant. A happy life is very simple--literally. A happy life only consists of the bare necessities and love for others. And if you're truly lucky, love from others as well. That's all. I feel so much love from my family and I have so much love for them. And I know that everything I've obsessed about--my weight, my looks, my low popularity--means little to them.

My goal in life now is to make others happy because that is when I feel irrevocably happy. When I carved this goal in stone, I literally felt a burden lifted from me. My problems were solved. And this is saying a lot, since I can proclaim that I've felt depressed since age 12. Now at 23, I think I've found the secret to happy living. And, to whomever reads this, I would like to know your feedback. I just want to get this out publicly, because I would have avoided years of self-pity and depression if I could have just realized this earlier. But I know that people go through their own self-discoveries and sometimes hearing or reading it doesn't suffice as opposed to experiencing it.

First! and Let it Go

I started this blog to a) record the milestone "a-ha" moments in my life that I can look back on when I feel start to feel lost again and b) share with others the new philosophy of living that I have realized and that has helped me TREMENDOUSLY.

As a whole chunk of my new "philosophy" is not to think about myself and my past, I do not want to go into detail about how screwed up I used to be. And especially since I am my blog's only reader...at this point in time, anyway. Maybe later I'll purge all the details. I really want to reveal my epiphany when my life gained purpose and continue to remind myself about how I can live a fulfilling life not for myself but for others. But I need to first write about what's going on now.

My immediate thought right now is to STOP HARBORING HATE AND BITTERNESS. Case in point: I was livid at some people who seemed to have lost a care package from my mother. I was mad that said people were too lazy to look for my package, I was mad at the people who may have stolen it. The only way I felt I could reduce the anger was to come to terms that everything in the package was pretty much replaceable. ("Don't let things control your feelings, " as my mom would say.) Just as I was really beginning to let go, my old boss emailed me notifying me my package has been found and is on its way back home to me! Gone now is my hatred, anger, and resentment. And I'm not saying that only when things turn out can you truly "let it go". I just realized that it wasn't worth it for me to be angry. I'm so happy my package finally turned up just when I had finally accepted it was lost, but I was so satisfied at that moment of acceptance. The weight on my shoulders was self-inflicted. It wasn't the stupid mail workers that were keeping me angry; it was me. So, let go.

Just had to write that while it was on my mind. More to come. Especially a proper introduction.