Venting Like A Boss.

So my five best friends aren't online for some reason.  It's currently 10:43 on a Thursday, and I promise you this: I usually see three on until midnight each night.  I need to vent.  Why?  I'm a verbal processor.  If I can't talk things out with them right now, I must vent in a way that they'll all see it eventually because they love me. :)

And yes I know.  I only post when really bad things happen in my life. . . Blah blah blah.  I know.  But good things happening aren't as interesting, as my sociology teacher said yesterday, good news doesn't sell, bad news and drama sells.  It's what's interesting.  It's why we watch drama filled TV shows.  If everyone lived a perfectly perfect life, no one would care.  [But I DID post a nice post in January so BAM! I post good things too.]


So. Things that bug me:

• People who delete people on Facebook who they are legitimate friends with just because they're mad or had some disagreement.
• I mean seriously.  We have almost 200 friends in common, do you think I wouldn't notice? Erghh.
• Actually.  I'll expand on this.  The last two people who have deleted me [that I know of] I was good friends with. . . But they were boys.  We all know what happens when boys and girls are close friends, someone develops feelings for the other one, that emotion is not returned, someone gets hurt.  One I'll accept, it was my fault.  It was a mutual "I dislike you now so let's just never ever talk again."
• But the other guy. . .  He deleted me because I didn't return the "love" even when I made it clear forever ago that it wouldn't work?  Cool. Beans.
• So now I know.  I cannot be friends with boys.  Not close ones at least.
• I have two exceptions to this rule in my life.  Three actually.  For some reason, we work.  Maybe it's because we act more like siblings and help each other find love.  Or because we've know each other too well and we're meant to have brotherly/sisterly love.  Whatever the case, these three boys will be the only exceptions.
• Then there are people who leave and then come back and ruin your thought process for a few days.
• Person in case: The mutual-deletion-of-each-other-man
• It's kind of a fact.  He came in and messed things up.  I let down my guard and let a new person into my life, so yes, that was my fault.  But being manipulated, I'm realizing it's not my fault. [Besides I'm apparently supposed to learn how to not blame myself?]  In any case the whole not talking to him for over a month was great.  I was happy and have forgiven myself for not being cool.
• But BAM! They come back in to "apologize" and stir up every silly thought I had before.  I feel myself slipping into the messed up kid I used to be.  But I have God this time around, plus some awesome friends who I'll let help keep me on track.  I will not fall into any unhealthy cycle again.
• And finally on things I dislike more than ANYTHING right now: People who can't type.
• What in the heck is going through your mind when u tlk lyk dys?!??!!
• Even as a twelve year old talking online with people.  I made sure to use proper spelling, punctuation, capitalization, EVERYTHING so I wouldn't tick off who I was talking to.  I was twelve.  The people who I see talking like that are college and high school students.  
• You guys write papers for school right?  How do you make the transition from the English language to pure bad typing?  
• Yes, some people have legitimate learning disabilities and have a reason, but my friends who have them type WAY better than my friends who don't.  
• I'm tired enough when I get online at the end of the day.  I don't feel like deciphering messages from people who don't care enough to TRY.  So what I do?  I don't respond after awhile, I know it's mean, but so is making my brain work so hard.
• Actually I have a new final thing: I hate how pessimistic and narcissistic I can get when I'm stressed.

Happy note: It's been 36 days since I purged. :)

The end.

. . .

You lied.

I'm done.

The end.

Day One.

Today is the first day of many.
Last night I admitted the truth to four people.  Now I'm admitting it to you, my two readers:


I, Michaela, am a bulimic. I am not that perfect student leader that I am "supposed" to be.  I did know better, and yet I let this disease take control of me.  I let my own pride and selfishness get in the way of reaching out to people who I know could've helped me if I had asked for it long ago when I first started throwing up again.  I didn't want people to know how messed up I truly was, and I'm sorry about that.  I'm sorry to God and to all of those who I know care about me.


For so long I thought that I couldn't mess up.  I'm a student leader.  I can't be the one who needs help. I'm supposed to be the one who helps others.  Which is why I let myself get involved in so many ministries with so many people.  I had to take the focus off of myself and put it on others so no one would notice my pain.  Bad idea, right?


I can't expect to fill the cup of others, if my cup isn't being filled elsewhere. 


If I'm denying the help from others, what hope is there for me?


Well I took the first step and told Casey, our speaker from Summit View.  I wasn't even expecting to.  I just wanted to tell him thanks for speaking because it helped me realize some things, and he asked what stood out the most. . . 


And in my telling of what stood out, I broke down and told him everything that was going on.  
About how I was screwing up, but was afraid to tell anyone from church because all my leaders seem so perfect.  He told me I had to tell them, I had to get help; I already knew that, but God had to remind me through Casey that I needed to do it soon.  Or else I could end up seriously hurting myself.


Back in my small group, God reveled to me that those "perfect" leaders have messed up too.  They didn't all live the cookie cutter Christian life like I had assumed.  He provided me with a leader that shares a story similar to mine, something I've never come across in this lifetime.  She and one of my closest friends, Miranda, listened to me and my crying testimony of purging and cutting.  And they sat right there, holding my hands while I confessed to Scott that I wasn't who I said I was.


I braced myself because I was sure he would say that there was absolutely no way I could go to Indonesia now.  But it's not what he said.  I'm still in the running for being considered for Impact Indonesia, that mission's trip that I've been dreaming about since I was twelve years old.


My second step is dropping out of one of my classes.  I need to get healthy.  And I can't do that with the added stress of taking 20 credits.  I'm going to go be a normal college student person and take 15 this quarter.  Goodbye Geology.  Until next quarter.


The third step is telling mom and dad.  I have to have that at-home-accountability thing, so just in case I can't reach out to a friend, I have my parents on round-the-clock watch.


Now it's time for sleep.  I think. 

Baby Bird

My life is just falling right into place, isn't it?
Everything is going.. What seems to be perfect. A humanly perfection, at least.


I got accepted into my dream school. And trust me, everyone knows. Cheney and I spammed everyone's newsfeeds with our happiness of getting in. I've had three other friends tag me in their posts saying their proud of me and whatnot. My mom went and texted all of her friends. Everyone is so happy that Michaela is going to a university instead of sitting around next fall.


About a month ago, when deciding on schools, I narrowed my choices down to two. Pacific Lutheran University and Portland State University. One is close to home, where I can also stay extremely connected to my home church. One is a bit farther away.


The way I saw it was: If God allows me to go to PLU, it means I'm ready to stand on my own two feet spiritually. He knows I'm ready to grow without the constant support of a huge church helping guide my every step and giving me the tracks. And that is what's happening! 


I'm a baby bird ready to fly.


I am not going to be one of those Christians who relies solely on her church to help her grow. Counts on the church events to revamp that spirit. Only serves when the church provides means to.


I'm ready to trust in God.