cordiiiform-blog

[cordiiiform-blog]

hello, houston, we have an update

dear 0.5 reader count, i’m back again (maybe) temporarily, for now, but hopefully forever. originally this blog post was going to be a continuation of something i was planning to upload but it never went through so we have two parts today (yay?!) PART 1: i just want to explain myself so please hear me out my 0.5 reader count i’m struggling, and it may come off as selfish but i really am. i feel like everyone around me, they’re having the time of their lives. exceeding in school, friends, career ideas etc etc etc. but i, i am in this dark pit that i keep digging and digging myself in. and i can’t get out because one i physically can’t. i don’t know what to do to make myself stop feeling sorry for myself or to stop being so anxious that i literally cry and panic each time something comes my way or to stop wanting to lay in bed always, because i’m “sad”. it’s awful, and i feel like another thing on top of this layer of awful is that i don’t deserve to feel this way because i am awful. i’m such a horrible terrible human being. here i am spewing about my feelings and my thoughts when have i cared for others? but then thats just it, i feel like i always care for others. can’t someone see that im struggling, that im trying, that i’m dying and help me out? no, because i am such a horrible terrible human being. second i can’t get out because i put myself here and in the deepest darkest part of my heart, i want to be here. why? maybe because i’m scared but really only God knows. i see that He’s offering me everything, gifts beyond my imagination, His hands are literally stretching out. but i just can’t receive it. i just can’t get it. i don’t know what’s wrong with me. and i want to say i’m sorry. i know i suck. i know i’m a failure. i know i’m awful. i know i can’t freaking make a friend or relax enough to stop saying idiotic things or even chill out because i’m reckless and wild when anxious. i’m sorry. i just, i’m sorry. (written: 11/12/18) PART 2: it’s ya girl B on her daily existential, angsty bs that no one cares about. on this episode, she will talk about how much she doesn’t care about life. now you may be thinking(maybe? maybe not? maybe you don’t care) but girl, didn’t you say you care a whole lot and that is what you’ve been stressing since day 1?! let me explain: i don’t care about life to the point that all i want to do is sulk in bed and cry. i’ve come to a place where i don’t know what next step to take. i am at a crossroads where i need to take a step or else i’m doing nothing but wasting time. like for example, my major. who the fricking frack knows what my major will be because i surely do not know. and if i don’t figure out my major asap i can’t take the opportunities i want OR i’ll take them and it’ll turn out to be a waste of time because i’ll finally decide that’s not even something i want to get into. and if i don’t take opportunities at all, then i’ll be behind where i’ll have no experience whatsoever and if i do begin to realize what my major is, it’ll be too late because guess what? ya girl will be unexperienced as frick. AND THEN if i’m not experienced, then i’ll have a harder time finding a job or finding something to even do outside college when that’s done with (whenever that will even be done with because i don’t know my major and i won’t be able to graduate on time, cause, i’m wasting time!!!) and if i don’t find something immediately after college, then i’ll be deemed as a failure and not only will i let myself down, i will let everyone around me down, and their disappointment will get to me. seriously. and at the same time, i’ve been learning so much about God, that it makes me feel bad for worrying this much. for example, God is the creator of all things who preordained everything. He is Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. if he makes sure that the birds in the sky every day find what they need to survive, wouldn’t he take care of his child who he loves? and if i’m literally held in his hands, my future already planned, shouldn’t i not be stressed about anything? yes i shouldn’t, but then that complicates matters even more, like what the heck am i supposed to do? it’s quite funny actually. pre-college B who thought she had it all together but boy was she wrong. and now, all i want to do is sulk and cry, feeling a little empty & dead inside.

-B

(last updated: 2/18/19)

[cordiiiform-blog]

who am i

there is so many emotions that flood in and crash over me but the most dominant one that lingers especially if its due to an incident is anger.

anger that is so consuming i dont even want it or even like it. this anger that just completely wrecks me and it doesn’t even hurt the other person i’m mad at or even hurts the thing. no, it eats at my intestines and waits till i’m nothing but carcass for a scavenging hyena. and then i’m dead.

but there are other emotions, some of which are my only friends as i walk around the blocks of my campus. it’s kinda crazy to think a few months ago, i was happily talking with a lot of people but now my thoughts are the only voice i hear. sometimes, i forget what it means to talk to people.

and thats how i know im losing it. how i’m losing myself.

i dont really know who i am anymore. nothing but sleep makes me happy. i honestly couldn’t even imagine ever being in this place, but here i am. my parents constantly told me that if i don’t stay home for my first year, i’m going to go insane. i’ll get bad grades. my faith will be weak. my mental health will deteriorate as well as my physical health. overall, not good. but if i stay home, it’d be better, somehow.

im home.

it’s not better

every day feels like i’m suffocating. pathetic act after pathetic act after pathetic, antisocial, and really awkward interaction.

what am i even doing.

who am i.

i feel like i’m spiraling.

-B

(last updated: 10/12/18)

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untitled 2

im sorry

-B

(last updated: 9/21/18)

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untitled 1

it’s a drug

i’m addicted

and i hope to die

-B

(last updated: 9/20/18)

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pain

it’s consuming, and i sound like a freaking cliche, but it’s true.

it is consuming.

the phagocytosis of any part of me thats left pricks at me unlike a fluffy blanket.

and i hate the conceitedness of it. wallowing in your own misery but what else can you do? and at times, there is no consolation that others are unhappy too.

if we’re both unhappy, how will we get anywhere?

instead it makes me so mad i cry.

as im heaving, my body shakes to my inner core, where pain takes it’s permanent residence and my only reflex is disgorging all will. so suddenly i’m in a hub of loneliness or abandoned at stormy seas or rotting deep in a ditch or in midst of creepy meadows.

then, where can i go? i’m the worst role model and i’m the biggest hypocrite.

and i’m sorry.

i’m trying.

i’m trying.

i’m

trying.

-B

(last updated: 9/19/18)

[cordiiiform-blog]

inadequacy

typically, if i ask someone if they like the rain, they’d reply with something along the lines of “no, it’s so depressing!”

but au contraire, mon frere! it’s chilling and also livelier than a hot summer’s day. rain like this eases my anxious heart where the little pitter patter tap against windows and the loud booms of thunder reverberates straight to the pit of my stomach.

however, i do have to say the season of life i’m in right now, rain is neither heightening or easing these college woes.

it’s mere background noise to the biggest problem here: feeling inadequate.

let me set the scene for you: bustling crowds to and fro classes with high energy state of minds that drags out till about 5; there’s chatter, probably about tests and quizzes. maybe about some internship and job type talk. or maybe about professors. and while they complain and complain expressing an anger they supposedly have, they seem to do just fine, completely exuding experience, professionalism and finessery while simultaneously going through the motions—like to be like this is to just be. it’s done. it’s simple. and you want a professor to curve the class grades?

from 6 to who knows how late, that same energy is redirected into a function where drunk adults that manage to manipulate the art of procrastination. you can’t just be this to be. it’s a carefully crafted art or it’s completely bull.

now, an anxious (and the complete opposite of extraordinary and experienced) person such as i would feel really inadequate in this scene.

i know i already feel really inadequate in this scene. the heroine is not me in this play. i’m just a supporting character making the protagonist look good. i have no redeeming qualities, not even the slightest bit, like i’m made to be pitied and fixed.

the thing is this dilemma is quite funny, because as i’m writing this i remembered something:

not only does God equip you with what you need to deal with whatver you need to deal with as well as whatever He asks of you, He’s got you with life itself. there’s no reason to feel inadequate when the creator of the universe says He empowers you.

and that, mon frere, is the danger in comparing yourself is. a terrible evil. that is the antagonist in your story.

so if i’m already equipped with everything i need, why do i still feel so little standing next to the girl sitting beside me getting 100s on her quiz? or why do i feel so idiotically inferior when staring at a test of 49 questions. 49, not 50.

the other funny thing is that homegirl really used to think that these habits from high school would go away, and when i shouted off the rooftops that i don’t, won’t care, it’s actually quite the opposite. i care incredibly more than i did before.

and that’s frightening.

which makes the combination of fear and inadequacy another evil...

(usually i try to land on a lighter note with some positivity. but this time i don’t know what to say since i’m not sure how to implement the answer to my life and i don’t want to be a hypocrite.)

sometimes you dig yourself in a hole and once you hit rock bottom you revel in it. you sink in the the deepest sorrow and think, how can this be different, before you make yourself a ladder or climb til your callous have callouses.

then you whisper reality away. but the pain of being inadequate has been your companion this whole time, though; that pain is a nagging discomfort but familiar, and you have a hard time letting go.

but letting go is the first rung to that ladder, and i have yet to take that first step.

-B

(last updated: 9/18/18)

[cordiiiform-blog]

cordiform

someone asked me today what does cordiform mean. i feel like the answer should be here too.

i’ve self proclaimed myself as the heaviest heart. technically speaking that isn’t quite possible. there are animal hearts possibly bigger than mine therefore heavier in mass. there are probably human hearts with different variations that may make it a bigger heart hence heavier heart. and then, spiritually speaking, God’s heart aches for us the most. with all the burdens and pain we carry, He undoubtedly has to heaviest heart for US.

but i also look at myself, and think, dang girl, you care way too much.

‘cause the amount i care about everything and everyone is, like, unfathomable. i saw this really pretty blue butterfly almost get run over by a car the other day and i almost cried. over a butterfly. that probably doesn't even acknowledge our presence. a butterfly.

and i know, like, our culture is so for cutting people off. toxic boys come your way, cut. toxic friends come your way, cut. but like, the way i live is so against that. even if someone hurts me, i’m flooded with an immense feeling for them that isn’t hate, and for some reason i’ll probably take them back if they come running. to some extent, that’s probably not good. but it also explains why my heart is the heaviest.

i care too much and i have too many emotions just bottled up in there.

and while i could have named both my blog and username “the heaviest heart,” aesthetically speaking it didn’t vibe with me. but if we’re speaking without any consideration of a e s t h e t i c s, then i’d have to say cordiform means the shape of the heart.

and if my heart is the heaviest.

and the blog is named cordiform, the shape of that heavy heart.

then the blog revolves around what makes that heavy heart heavy?

which brings me to big discussion numero uno: love.

i’ve heard plenty people say love isn’t real, rather just a concept someone somewhere somehow made. but love is real. it’s just. it’s patient. it’s compassionate. it does not boast nor envy. it is probably the one thing everyone on earth can agree they’re looking for, second/first to happiness. it is quite hard to love when someone does you wrong, and even harder to love when someone does you wrong repeatedly. it is something we all argue about. it is something we can’t fully comprehend at times, and because of that, maybe we’ll act out of fear, or discomfort. maybe we’ll act out of jealousy, rage, impatience, or selfishness.

i just wanted to put it plainly that love is real, and love is waiting for you. it’s something that fills an aching heart so heavy. it takes tainted hands, broken bones, open wounds and heals it all up. it hands over a purpose and overrides nothingness. it washes over any thoughts of unworthiness or feelings of disdain. it moves the indifferent and the careless. and if that isn’t plain proof that love is real, i don’t know what else to tell you but that love is God and God loves you and knowing that love is the first step of just letting go the last shallow breath, and sucking in a new one of relief.

that nothing can break you ever again.

and i just want people to feel some love, is that too much to ask?

-B

(last updated 9/16/18)

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[cordiiiform-blog]

the beginning: perfection

so, i’m sitting here at my desk wondering how will i ever start up my first blog. it’s not like i’m ever going to become incredibly famous on tumblr, but if i do that’s a lot of responsibility and maybe even higher expectations to always hold myself up to a certain perfection. which makes me think that, this first blog post must be perfect just like how my first four years at college must be perfect and just like how i must be perfect in my interactions with everyone around me. 

i’m pretty sure everyone already knows how being perfect isn’t plausible. i’m pretty sure no one in their right mind deep down actually thinks that anyone could possibly be perfect in every aspect of their life. there’s no way. we’re simply not perfect. but why does everyone strive towards that perfection anyways? like where i go to school, everyone’s on that grind, bro. hustling to find the perfect job, the perfect internship, the perfect opportunity to make their big break of being somebody. it’s a lot of stress to be always surrounded by the mentality that success is measured by the number of accomplishments one has. and hoping to one day go to medical school doesn’t help either, like, suddenly i have to do a million things at once this first year in order to actually make a place in my future. the perfect candidate would be taking all stem classes, involved with like 8 different student organizations, either already in an internship/shadowing opportunity/volunteering or has already got one step up. they would probably be running on 4 hours of sleep every day, and somehow manage to get all of their work legitimately done. they’d be that one kid you see with a smile on their faces all the time, and is always all work but somehow you find them hanging out with their friends on the daily? and on top of that, they got perfect relationships--the perfect family, the perfect significant other, the perfect friends, the perfect teachers. 

while that definitely sounds nice, what happens at the end of the day? when you’re laying in your bed extremely exhausted after packing so much about freaking biology in your brain and the clock reads 4:00 AM (and lucky you, you get to wake up at 8:00 AM)? i think the least thing on that person mind is perfection, but rather happiness. consistency. permanence. and i already know how it goes, how to get there, but it’s the matter of actually doing it, and not getting sucked up in this picture perfect idea of what could be, and keeping my first priority at heart. 

but then, there are the countless other priorities to worry about--the family who isn’t perfect nor the significant other you love but you’re always raging at for no reason, or the group of friends and connection with professors you seem to lack at school. and how to be the one. the one who is the most compassionate, the most loving, the most considerate. the one that spreads real love and that Jesus loves you everyday. and how often times because having everything perfect or rather in order is difficult enough, it’s also hard to just sit in your burdens on your own. and then you become that burden to others. and then you’re just a plain mess. so i’m sitting in my bed at 12:00 AM wondering about happiness, consistency, and permanence, and maybe sometimes wondering about if the growing pain (that seemingly hits at random moments) will ever be completely gone.

but it’s 11:35 PM right now, and i want sleep, so it won’t be that kind of night. 

-B

(last updated: 9/15/18)