Looking Forward!

Forward Falcons,
Forward Falcons,
Fight for victory.

Show our spirit,
make them fear it,
Fight for dear Bee Gee.

Forward Falcons,
Forward Falcons,
Make the contest keen.

Hold up the fame of our mighty name,
and win for Bowling Green

Can we just all collectively agree how cute this fight song is? Sorry, but I really like it. So, why do I have BGSU's fight song posted? I was accepted! I'm so excited for it, too. 

My goal is to go in there and leave with a double major in both music education and education/English. I'm almost entirely sure I want to be a teacher, and double majoring is the best way to go about with it at this point. This makes it a little easier for me, too, since I love both things so much and I can be prepared for whatever curveball life throws at me to some degree. I'm really looking forward to this. 

Giving Blood

I'm running short on my time today as I'm typing in intervention and that is never very long. In addition to that, I missed a good chunk of it. Intervention is a short study hall basically. I donated blood today, though. This is my second time donating and it went really well. A lot better than last time. However, I ate too  many donuts after and now my stomach is upset. Not full donuts but the the hole part of the donut. So, it was pretty much a ball of a donut. Anyway I had too many and I feel a little sick. I'm a little dizzy and light headed to be quite honest with you, but it isn't bad. Just ever so slightly. more importantly, I've been having issues with my... uh, digestive system and expelling waste. So this has been very uncomfortable. I have to go again and it's only half way through the day. I've already gone twice in the past couple hours. I hope it goes away once my monthly is over with. I tend to get gravely ill often times. Last night was pretty painful for me to endure and this morning sucked. I woke up drenched in sweat and I couldn't even shower. I feel so gross but I did what I could. I brought my deodorant to school just in case. You should always have some on you, I feel, but a lot of times I just reapply whenever I get home. I seriously hope I don't stink.
I've said pretty much everything I wanted to say but I have time to kill and I need to stay busy and distracted.

So, there was this girl that came up to me and started talking. She was really nervous. I don't know if she ever did donate. She was a student volunteer, though. So, she stayed with me the entire time. The kid next to me finched and made a face of pain when he had his needle put in. I stared at it and didn't even budge. Needles don't even phase me, quite honestly. She was really surprised. I used to be terrified of them when I was little. I would scream and cry and shout. It was terrible. Now, I just hand over my arm like I'm giving a toy to a dog. I can do them when I'm half asleep, as well. I was in a mental hospital a couple of times in the past and they get your blood really fucking early in the morning. Well, my second time there, I was prepared for it because I knew it was coming. The nurse flipped on the light and immediately I just tossed my arm over and let her do what she needed. She was a little weird about it. "It's okay. It's just a little pinch," that sort of bull. I just wanted to get it over with. I guess she thought I was nervous. I was just half asleep. So, yeah. I don't mind needles anymore. I'm so used to them at this point. Every time I go to the doctors, I feel they take my blood. I have to go in to get my blood tested to. The medication I'm on now tends to do something to it. I'm not sure what. I didn't get the original tests before the meds either. My psychiatrist felt it was more important to start treating me than to wait three months to get my blood looked at. I don't blame her. I'm so ready for a nap. Well, I only have a minute left in intervention. Signing off. See ya'.

You Do What?!

Well, I don't think I've mentioned this before, but it's quite possible that I have already, but I suffer from trichotillomania. I'm sure you're wondering what the hell that is. Well, it's an obsessive compulsive disorder that is characterized by the urge to pull out one's own hair. So, yes, I pull my hair out. Specifically, the thicker strands or the ones that have kinky textures. (I don't mean kinky as in sexy, but kinky as in a kink in a water hose). Ones that just stand out from my thin, straight hair. (Something on me is actually straight. Surprise!). I actually used to have thick ringlets in the back, right above my neck. I buzzed off the back and the sides, however, but the hair their is still very course. That tends to be a spot I pull from a lot. Right behind my ears, the top of my head where my colic is, which, normally doesn't appear when you cut your hair as short as I do, but mine defies that odd. It sticks up a lot of the time, anyway. Sometimes I'll sift through my bangs, trying to find the right strand. But the thing is, I can do this for hours. I tend to do this all day during school, with certain times of the day where it's real bad. I tend to get the urges the worst during 3rd and 4th period. This makes it quite embarrassing because I tend to pull out a lot during 3rd period. Almost everyday, I leave hair all over the floor and it's just very... gross and sad at the same time. I've very self-conscious about this condition.

I pull my hair out as a way to deal with anxiety or depression. Pulling out my hair eases it, but then it creates more anxiety!It's a nasty cycle. I'm trying to stop, though. It'll take time. I've been pulling out my hair since 2014, so, it's been three years. I almost have no eyebrows, either. I used to rip them out real bad. However, I don't really pull at those very much anymore. Which this is good. I want them to grow back. ALl summer of 2016 I looked like a fucking Shiba Inu, you know, those little dogs? Here, I'll show you one:

I'm not that cute, however. I also don't know how to get the typing to be on the right hand side of the page again. Oh well. I hope it's not too noticeable. Anyway, yeah,

It was a pretty shitty time. I hated it. They grew back in come September but I had to go and rip them all fucking off again. Look at me! I really should stop being so self deprecating. I've been getting a lot better with the eyebrow pulling, at least. I hardly ever pull them now in school or even at home. I feel tempted as I talk about them, but I'm going to resist that urge. I'm also incredibly hungry and feeling a little shaky because of my hunger. Oh well. I can go eat later. Right? I always feel sick after eating anymore, so I don't really eat as I would like to. Last night was an exception, however. I ate so much.

I actually started typing out this article, well, one similar to it on my hone yesterday during third period. I was pulling like a mad man so I decided to use one of my techniques, which is one that I hardly ever use, and I asked to leave to use the restroom. I stayed in there for a while, trying to calm myself down and reiterate my mindset to focus on school and try to think of a different way to direct my urges to pull. I remembered I had this rubber fidget toy in my book bag so I decided I would take a trip down to my locker on the main floor, on the other side of the academic wing and get it. I brought it with me to class. It's this little ball of nothing but rubber strings. It's like taking 200 rubber bands, cutting them in half, and then stapling them all together. I try to use it as "faux hair". It's pretty effective but not 100%. Which that's normal. The purpose of it is to act as my hair that I can pick and pull. Sometimes it snaps and I end up hurting myself. Which is something I'm okay with. Maybe I can train myself to learn that if I pull I will get hurt. Like how some people decide to use electric fences and shock collars on their dogs. Maybe I should get a shock collar for myself. I'm just playing. I don't really support those sorta of objects.

I've tried to keep an agenda where I would put a sticker on each day that I don't pull out any hair except for ones that I plan to, such as the pesky ones you sometimes get on your chin or cheek or just random stray eyebrows or ones that are just weird looking. I don't know. But that was actually really affective and a good motivational tool. That one really helped, honestly. I guess I just kind of forgot about it.

My therapist suggested I get an eyebrow pencil and draw them on. So, that's what I do every day. That also helps deter me now as I don't want to smear it or have it rubbed off in school. It's pretty embarrassing without eyebrows honestly. Even around my family. I'm hoping for the best, however. This is just an on going struggle that I may never be able to overcome. It's something I have to learn to live with and something that I have to learn to manage, control it, and cope with it.

Who is My Friend the Couch?

So, this is by far a quite perplexing name. Especially for a blog. Let alone the blog isn't even about couches or even remotely any friends. It's just about my life and pretty much what ever comes across my tiny teenage mind. So, where does my name come from?

My eighth grade year, in jazz band, our director at the time, Ells, gave us our music. One of the songs was titled "My Friend the Couch". Everyone loved the name. It was just so random and had appeared to have nothing to do with music. I still have no idea what the inspiration was for the name of the song. It was Craig Skeffington that wrote it. I'll post a link down below if you guys want to listen to it.

That's where the name came from. A jazz band song. I didn't particularly like this song either, to be quite honest with you. It just was super long and the flute part was either just flat out boring or too much for me to handle. No in between. I don't think I'm a fan of it still. Nonetheless, the title still intrigues me.

So, no. I don't have a friend who is a couch.

https://www.jwpepper.com/10311439.item

Cruelty of the Sub-Conscience MInd

The sub-conscience of the human mind is such an intriguing part of each of us as individuals. Everyone has something different going on in their mind and that turns into their own, very different dreams.

I had a terrible dream last night. A rather cruel one, too. I woke up anxious and depressed. I couldn't believe how terrible I had felt. I felt so helpless, so useless, and out of control. 

I'll go ahead and share with you what it was.

So, I don't remember everything about the dream, but I remember begging my mom for info. She's my only way to have contact with a person that I dearly care about and I haven't spoken to this person since December, I believe. But this whole dream is about her. 

So, I kept begging my mom to let me talk to her, but Mom kept telling me that she hasn't had any sort of response from her. I continued to beg. She showed me that she hasn't responded to any of mom's texts messages or phone calls. They were all read and noted by this person, but no response. I took this as this person's way of saying that she wanted nothing more to do with me. This, of course, was devastating. I couldn't comprehend why she wouldn't want anything to do with me out of the pure blue. It just didn't add up. My tiny, little, teenage mind began to express this dissatisfaction through my writing. The characters I wrote about came alive, by only for a short amount of time before they disappeared. 

So, I began to look around on news sources for anything I could find on this person. To my luck, I did! I was so excited! I found a news paper article about her. Apparently the media was praising her because she had took her group of kids on a camping trip. (She's a teacher.) And I thought that was pretty cool and all. There's a gap after that, so I don't remember anything else after that exact moment. After the gap, however, two other people I know and I, all get a text message from my Teacher-Friend. She said that she "needs time to heal" and "not to talk to her until April 28". I forget what else had happened here, but all I could remember was being petrified that I couldn't help her; that I couldn't save her. 

Fighting Demons

They say, as in just people of society, of our world; they say that everybody has their own demons that they fight through a daily basis. I agree with this statement for the most part. Before I explain why I don't always agree with it, I will talk about the different demons that we do face. Which is much more than our own, but we can claim them as our own.
We fight our own, our friends' , and our family's.
The demons that belong to other people that we fight, now become our own demons as well.  Not only that, but sometimes, the demons we fight, are other people. They're not always something you can't physically feel or see. Sometimes, they're the ones we can easily touch the most. The real people in our lives. Our "enemies", as we like to call them.
Now, as for why I don't always agree with this statement, is that sometimes we can win over our demons and we don't let them conquer our lives. We don't let the control it, and for that reason, sometimes we just don't have to fight. Other times, our demons just refuse to fight. This is where me and my demons are at now. I want to fight them, but they don't want to fight me. I guess this is still fighting in a way, them resisting to battle, but I don't see it that way. I don't consider this battling my demons. I'm trying to get my demons to quit laying around so we can fight. I want to battle my demons, but they don't want to fight! They don't have the energy to. Does this mean I have won? No, and that's by a long shot. I'm too worn out to fight and so are they. This leaves me stuck in an awkward position because I can't fight and neither will they. They don't have it in them anymore. This stage is the stage of giving up. Giving up on whatever it is that you're fighting. My demons find it useless to keep going. Does that mean we can make up and become friends? No, because they're not supposed to be my friends. But this is exactly what they're doing. They're too tired to fight, so they try to be my friend. Because I'm a friendly person, I give in and become their friend. Now I'm friends with my demons. They are taking over my life. They have won without even trying.

Numbing Kind of Feeling

One of my own personal, least favorite feelings, is when you're depressed. Not just any kind of depressed, but the kind where you don't know what to do with yourself. The kind where no matter what you try to do, it just doesn't feel right so you just want to crawl back into bed and play and waste your life away on your phone or some sort of mobile device or console. This sort of behavior does nothing to help the body or the mind. If anything, it worsens it. It makes it become harder to feel motivated. Harder to do schoolwork. Harder to shower, Harder to breathe, It's such an uncomfortable, yet somehow painless type of depression that leaves you feeling emotionless like a robot. You become the robot. It's a numbing kind of depression in which your feelings no longer exist and start to fade away into a dark, black, void where it will never been seen again.