Closer to God

I still cannot believe I got accepted to Smith. I prayed pretty much every night about it, and during my mental breakdown last week, I had an out-loud, verbal conversation with God pleading for Him to help me make it in.

Even if I hadn't been accepted, I know I would still believe in God and have faith that what happened was for the best. But because I was accepted, I believe that this is part of His plan for bigger (well, smaller in terms of student population) and better things for me.

It's kind of funny how I went from being an anti-religion snot-nosed punk to a faith advocate. I'm still not a fan of organized religion because I think any institution, especially the Catholic Church, has a tendency to abuse power and manipulate people for malicious intents. However, I recognize there are plenty of good Catholics out there whose reputations are marred by the select few who are intolerant, ignorant bigots. Yet I don't want to give myself a religious "title," though, for fear of being associated with said bigots.

But anyway, the whole point of me reflecting on my faith is that I hope it doesn't seem like I'm a fair-weather devotee. I do tend to pray most when I need or want something, and I realize that I don't thank God enough for all the good in my life. But isn't that how most people are? I'm just human. I love God no matter what, even if there seems to be an overwhelming amount of pain in my life (which currently, there isn't). I am positive that whatever happens to me has some sort of purpose behind it.

At the same time, I believe I have an effect on my future. But this is going to have to be a conversation I save for another day, because I have stuff to do before I go to sleep in a half hour.

/end spiritual ramblings

!!!

I GOT INTO SMITH!!!

Illusion of Control

As most people know by now, I am a recovering anorexic and orthorexic. I have made considerable improvements since the beginning of my disordered eating behavior period, but I do relapse every now and then. I am currently in relapse phase.

I know this phase will not last very long - a week at most. I plan on restricting my food intake at least up until Sunday, enough to fully detoxify my body, shrink my appetite, and build up my will power once again. I know this can be achieved in healthier ways, but this is the way I know best and it's one that I know I can accomplish.

It's kind of a rush, really. At first I despise the feeling of being hungry. All I can think about is how badly my stomach hurts, and I want to take out my frustration on everyone and everything around me. But after a day or so, I get lightheaded and loopy and my anger wanes. I don't have enough energy for any emotion other than happiness. It's like being high.

But the high comes from more than just being loopy. Mostly, I feel high because I feel powerful. I am in control of what enters my body, what I do with my body, and how my body will ultimately look in the end. It's a complete power trip.

This disorder has been with me long enough for me to know when and why a relapse is coming. I relapse during times when I feel like my control over my life is slipping. When my fate seems to be out of my hands, I refocus my efforts on something I do have control over: my weight.

Last week, I had a slight mental breakdown because I realized that my admittance into Smith College is completely out of my control now. My application has already been reviewed, my interview has already been conducted, and I have already been judged. I keep thinking about all the things I could have done differently to make myself a more attractive candidate, but at this point it is too late. My letter of rejection or acceptance is probably sealed and in queue to be mailed.

This letter will have drastic consequences. If I am rejected, I will have to face another two years of trying to find my place at this giant university in a city that I hate living in. I will also have to face another two years of putting enormous amounts of effort into maintaining my long-distance relationship (on top of the three and a half years I have already put in). If I am accepted, I will inevitably be paying more money - probably another $10,000 per year - and may face some problems with transferring credits. I will have to start over once again, learning all about my new environment and breaking out of my shell of shyness to make friends. However, I will have an easier time creating a niche for myself at a school with about 15,500 less students. Also, I will finally know what it is like to be able to see the person I am utterly in love with whenever I want to or, most importantly, need to.

I feel so helpless knowing that the next few years of my life will be determined by a piece of paper.

And so this is why I am in the midst of an anorexic/orthorexic relapse. I would advise you not to worry because the period won't last long, but I know that request is futile. Instead, I ask that those who read this simply let me do what I need to do to feel better about the situation, and be ready and willing to accept me back into the real world when it's over.

Wanted: Personal Therapist (unpaid position)

I know people want to help, but I don't talk to them for a reason.

I wish I could find somebody I could talk to who wouldn't judge me, who would support me no matter what I'm going through, who would actively listen to me without preaching in response, and who could approach me and ask "How are you doing?" before I even got a chance to tell them something's wrong.

I actually feel like there are many people like that out there. I am one of them. There has to be others.

But why can't I find them?

My thoughts on Health Care Reform

I love how people throw around the word "freedom," i.e. "Universal health care is an imposition on freedom!"

Does this freedom refer to the freedom to choose whether or not to participate in the health care market? I'm pretty sure most uninsured people don't freely choose to not have insurance. Usually, they can't get approved for it or can't afford it.

Or does this "freedom" refer to the freedom to shop around for insurance? If so, what about those who aren't even able to shop around? What about the people who can barely afford basic necessities, like food, clothing, and housing? Does their health not matter?

I've heard the argument that it's unconstitutional to impose health care on the individual. However, I argue that requiring someone to take care of themselves isn't an imposition; rather, it is a right. Being healthy is a right, just as is life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. After all, how can you be happy if you're sick and nobody will take care of you? How can you be free if a chronic or untreated illness is holding you back? How can you fully live your life if all of your energy is put into trying to keep yourself well without any offer of assistance? Furthermore, how can you be alive if you are not approved for health care for an illness that, although it could have been prevented, kills you?

I like how Congressman James Clyburn of South Carolina puts it: "This is not about health care. It's about trying to extend a basic fundamental right to people who are less powerful."

It really peeves me that people turn the debate about health care reform into one that's about money or complications between federal and state laws. To me, this is purely a moral issue. Is it ethical to require people to have health insurance? I say ABSOLUTELY. As human beings, we have the responsibility to preserve life in all forms. Offering health care to everybody, regardless of their cultural background, financial status, or medical history is an important step to fulfilling our responsibility.

I try my hardest to avoid identifying with a political party because honestly, I think political parties just make a huge mess out of everything. Too many people get wrapped up in being consistent with their fellow party members' views that they forget to fairly evaluate what's going on in Washington and form their own opinions.

So please, I beg you: forget all the bullshit your political party stands for. Do your own research and think for yourself. Hey, I'll even make it easy for you:

http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-503544_162-20000846-503544.html

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/03/22/health-reform-bill-summary_n_508315.html#s75147

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=125030078&ps=cprs

Those links should get you started, but don't let that be the end of it. Think. Discuss. DON'T JUST SIT THERE AND SPIT OUT OTHER PEOPLE'S OPINIONS.

Here's a bit of Social Psychology for ya!

I wrote a kick-ass paper for Social Psychology this past week, and I feel like sharing it. Please don't steal it because I worked really hard on it! (And if you do steal it, I'll hunt you down and pry off your fingernails and toenails one-by-one with a pair of pliers. :])

Conforming to the Nonconformist Image:
The Development of a Teenage American Punk

Blue hair? Check. Black-painted fingernails? Check. Tickets to the Green Day concert? Check. An “I don’t care” attitude? Check. With most of my image completed, there was only one thing left to do to be considered a true teenage American punk: become a full-blown anarchist.
Herein a problem was presented: how could I be a punk if I didn’t believe in anarchy? Despite my recent behavior changes (acting out aggressively, resisting authority figures, showing a general decrease in concern for others, etc.), I had always been a believer of justice, order, morality, and peace. I knew that without rules, society would collapse – two years of AP United States History had provided me with more than enough evidence of this. Yet, to the punk society, any person or institution which tries to control people’s beliefs, attitudes, and behaviors must be destroyed. Authority lies in the individual – screw everybody else who tells you otherwise.

As a young, fresh punk convert, the pressure was intense. I was of low status in the punk world, so there was much I had to do to prove myself to my elder rebels. Image is one part of the identity, but as I previously stated, I had that part down. It was the attitude thing I was missing. Though I personally disagreed with the idea of anarchy, there was no way I could publicly reject it and still wish to be accepted by the punk community. Belief in anarchy is the group norm. You never hear of a punk supporting totalitarianism or a dictatorship; most punks barely even tolerate American democracy. Vastly outnumbered by the punk-anarchists, I decided to hide my preference for rules and structure and to support the fight for individuality and disorder. And to show my dedication to the cause, I purchased a belt decorated with the anarchy symbol.

The best way to explain the reasons for my compliance would be to examine the particular occasion on which I purchased the belt. I walked into Spencer Gifts well-aware of the store’s reputation as the premier retail outlet for rock memorabilia, gag gifts, and sexual paraphernalia. People go to Spencer’s to buy items which define their personality and push the limits of social norms. Not only does the store reflect our culture’s value of individuality, but it also encourages the punk ideals of nihilism, mischief, and rebellion. In going into that store, I essentially surrounded myself with a representation of the community of which I was trying to become a member. I was subject to the influence of punks all across America, even though they were not physically present and even though I had never even met them.

Additionally, I experienced pressure from a smaller, more immediate group: the people in the store. There were about five or six other shoppers, and while they were not punks themselves, I felt the need to distance myself from their normalcy by showing off my alternative lifestyle choice. I also desired to impress the store clerk, who, clad in a sleeveless Misfits shirt, torn Dickies pants, a studded belt, and multiple facial piercings, looked like a true punk. It is clear to me now that what I felt at the time was Normative Influence, as I wanted to fulfill the shoppers’ expectations of what a punk was, and I yearned to be accepted by the clerk as a fellow member of his community. I was also prey to Informational Influence in that I accepted the reality that punks support anarchy, and, wanting to be a “correct” punk, I chose to make a public response by outwardly displaying solidarity through a clothing accessory.

But why me? Why did I fall victim to conformity? My attitudes certainly did not reflect punk ideologies, but then again, social psychologists have found that attitude rarely predicts behavior. I believe that my age was partly to blame. It is a pretty widely accepted idea that the teenage years are a time of questioning previously held values and beliefs and forming a more distinct identity. At 15-years-old, I was a prime subject of this process. Up until then, I had been known as the “good girl”: I went to Catholic school, I got excellent grades, I enjoyed spending quality time with my family, and I was kind to everybody. When I realized that very little of my hard work and good deeds were being recognized, and when it became evident that this “goody two-shoes” social role was not exactly desirable in high school, my self-esteem plummeted and I grew resentful of my peers and those who had failed to support my efforts – primarily, my parents and teachers. I soon found solace in punk rock because I could identify with the anger and frustration expressed in the music. While it was easy enough to change my image and behavior to match my music preference, the last step of adopting the punk belief in anarchy was more difficult because I possessed conflicting values. However, I think it was my disappointment in my parents and teachers which allowed me to justify my compliance. According to punk ideology, parents and teachers are representatives of a larger oppressive force, and so I used this logic to conclude that if they were my enemy, all authority figures must be my enemy. Even if my logic was not strong, it was enough to convince me that wearing a belt that endorsed anarchy was acceptable.

My personality is the other contributor. While I have always shown a rebellious streak and a thirst to be different (like when I chose to be the only bat, amongst plenty of bunnies and kitties, in my pre-school’s production of Jan Brett’s short story “The Mitten”), I have also always felt a need to gain others’ approval. Additionally, while I rarely go out of my way to get noticed, I really enjoy getting attention. I think these personality qualities explain why, of all social groups, I identified with the punk community. Punks are the outcasts of society. By becoming one of them, I could differentiate myself from the rest of society, but I could also feel a sense of belonging in a smaller community. Furthermore, I could get attention by barely doing anything more than dying my hair and buying new clothes. Yet it was my need for approval which pushed me to make the full conversion and buy the anarchy belt. I needed to conform to every aspect of the social role in order to be accepted by my punk peers.

With the pressures of group size, unanimity of beliefs, status, and public response weighing on my shoulders, and with my age and personality making me especially vulnerable, I grabbed the anarchy belt from the rack and approached the punk-clerk at the check-out counter. “$14.99,” he said, and I handed him the money. As he bagged my purchase, he looked up at me with a smirk. “What?” I asked with a pinch of attitude. “You know,” he said, his smirk growing into a grin, “if you were a true anarchist, you would have stolen this belt.”

Though I felt horribly embarrassed and insulted at the time, I look back on this memory and laugh at the irony. The clerk was completely right: I was attempting to make myself different from society by making myself similar to a group of people which society deems to be “different.” In trying to become a nonconformist, I ultimately ended up conforming to the standards of the punk community. What a conundrum! Luckily, I grew out of that phase and realized what a walking contradiction I was. Yet, punks still hold a special place in my heart. I do not condemn the punk scene because I think that it is simply misunderstood, and its ideals widely misconstrued. While many understand the term “punk” to mean rebelling against authority and endorsing wide-spread destruction and disorder, I hold a different definition. To me, “punk” means never compromising yourself in the face of adversity. Punk is liking what you like, doing what you do, and being the person you want to be. And screw everybody else who tells you otherwise.