The Truly Best Nights

When I think back to the past school year, the most stressful time period was not AP exam season, or finals season, or even cross country season. It was prom season. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy with the way my prom turned out for the most part. Still, I get so stressed thinking about how much energy I put into finding an inexpensive dress, figuring out the transportation situation, and making sure my hair and makeup appointments didn’t overlap. All of the drama that came with these conflicts made me so anxious, and at some points I just wished we never even had a prom.

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Don’t let FOMO win

     The other night I found myself feeling so upset about the fact that I couldn’t find anyone go to a local carnival with me. Everyone I asked was either busy, had already gone, or was studying for AP exams (which I probably should be doing more of). Even though my last two carnival experiences were rather crappy (the first time I was so sick and just in the worst mindset, and the second time my phone almost broke and my friend and I almost died of nausea), I still love the carnival. From the scary rides and greasy food, to the Ferris Wheel and bright lights, the carnival aesthetic is so exciting. All I wanted was to experience all of it with good company and without getting sick.

     The thing is, I didn’t even know the carnival was in town until I saw a girl from school post a picture of herself in front of those bright lights. The other thing is, I was so happy until I saw that picture. The other, other thing is, I was ready to buckle down and study for AP’s the whole weekend, and I honestly wasn’t too mad about it, until I saw that picture. The other, other, other thing is, I really love carnivals, but I didn’t want to force someone who I’m barely friends with to come with me simply out of FOMO (fear of missing out). If I had never seen that picture, I would’ve been completely content with the way my weekend was going. But alas, FOMO struck.

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Happy Birthday, Shakti

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     I’ve tried to write and edit this post so many times. For some reason, every draft I’ve written has sounded like a typical seventh grade Instagram birthday shoutout, and Shakti (also known as the person who proofreads all my posts) deserves much more than that on her 17th birthday. The truth is that I could go on and on about all the memories we’ve made such as singing along to music at the top of our lungs every car and bus ride we’ve been on together, Facetiming for hours every night, making music videos in my basement, spending every middle and high school formal together, and so many more. I could go on and on about how excited I am to room with her in Disney next year, graduate side by side, and go on our road trip next summer. I could go on and on about all our inside jokes from  “Guess the body part!” to “GO OFF SHAKTI”. However, no one will understand a post like that because 99% of our memories, future plans, and inside jokes are SO weird. So let’s stray from the “seventh-grade-birthday-shoutout” theme and get to the part that I want the world to read.
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Stop Putting a Timeline on Grief

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In our fast paced world, we try to convince ourselves that we need to be perfect in handling our grief. We’re supposed to be sad for a couple of days and then rapidly bounce back into our happy, energetic selves. This is beyond wrong. There is no specific timeline for grief. Whether it’s a death, job loss, breakup, or medical problem, no two people will heal in the same amount of time. By putting this unrealistic timeline on ourselves, we stop ourselves from fully feeling the pain that will only help us grow in the end. We rush the healing process, which only prevents us from accepting the pain in a healthy way.  We turn ourselves into happy-go-lucky machines that are more robot than human.

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What I’ve Learned from my Grandmother’s Dementia

Today is my grandmother’s 87th birthday. My mom and I went to visit her today with a bunch of gifts and flowers. At first she was a little confused, like always, but the day went very well. She opened the gifts and tried on all the clothes we gave her. I painted her nails with the new nail polish I got her and then ate some chocolates with her. I showed her my pictures from the holidays and we talked and took pictures of our own. It was a beautiful day. 

My grandmother has dementia.

She is so similar to me in a lot of ways. I inherited her small hands and love for romance. We both cry when we get emotional. We both love sugary foods. We’re both dreamers.

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