Why I'm Harley Quinn

Long before Suicide Squad was extremely popular, Harleen Quinzel was a popular character. Now days, you can easily see Harley prancing around any convention. This beloved character has a blessed place in my heart for all of eternity. When people ask me why, I usually just reply simply with, "because I relate to her a lot", a simple humble answer. I haven't sat down and really written out how we are similar, so, this is what this blog post is for.

Harley is fucking crazy, we can't deny that. She's scheming, devious, and very out there. She is a strong character who knows her faults but truly embraces them. She's a crazy bitch but she loves it. Harley has fun with her insanity, she goes against main stream morals and easily switches sides to see whatever benefits her the most.

She's incredibly intelligent as well. Harley has a very strong feminist appeal because she's independent and can exist on her own without the Joker, but she's a hopeless romantic, much like me, who will go to the end of the world for her Puddin'. Even if he repetitively keeps throwing her away.

She has this undeniable ambition to search for herself, even though she doesn't completely know what she's searching for. Harley wants to create order because growing up her life was very chaotic, which I can myself highly relate to as well. So, she pushed herself through college and to work in Arkham. She changed herself into her alternate persona, Harley, for the Joker. "I loved flushing away the control. The goals. The regiment way of life I'd had. I was finally free. Free to forget. To play for fun. To play crazy."

Harley has a strong sense of compassion towards people she cares about, but if you don't fall into that category, she often doesn't care.

Harleen continued with a life of crime that she didn't feel was right, but forced herself to become so that the Joker would love her the way she loved him, which I can strongly relate to as well. Once Joker steps back and stops controlling her, she hits a new identity crisis. Exactly where I am in my life, actually, currently.
Harley uses obsessions to help define herself, it creates who she is.  Harleen builds these personas, similar to the ones in the Harley Quinn comics. She meets Power Girl after she has a spout of amnesia and confuses her into thinking they are best friends. Something, I myself would do.

In the end I can mostly relate to her passion. She's passionate about change and going against societies norms, she only feels free when she feels as if she can do anything she wants. Her actions cause chaos, so many people write her off as just a "female joker", which simply isn't true. Harleen is constantly trying to figure out who she is and what her role in the world is.

Am I An Extreme Introvert?

Last night I went out (somehow I convinced my grandmother to let me, don't ask how because honestly I have no idea...) with my current boyfriend. We went to his friends house for a bit and honestly? It was kinda nice. We walked to the park and played pool, we weren't there long though. I was a little anxious, don't get me wrong, but it was nothing compared to what was to come later. Later that night we attended a party, aka a hell-hole for me. There was maybe 4-5 people, less than that because they came in and out. I felt incredibly uncomfortable. I refused to speak and all I wanted to do was to cry! I kept my nose in my phone as long as I could until it died. So I left. I sat in the car until my boyfriend waddled out to let me take him home.
This had me thinking about being an introvert. I know, I suffer from PTSD and it is the reason I feel like I have to constantly have an escape route. It's the reason for my unneeded fight or flight instinct, too. But, what exactly is my introversion? Is this normal? Is it bad that I'm an introvert?

Introvert is defined as a shy, socially reluctant person.

If it was up to me, I'd describe it as crippling anxiety and fear of social interaction, but then again maybe that's just me! If I walk by a group of people and they start laughing, my mind instantly shoots to the idea that they're laughing at me. I did something wrong. They hate me. Is this introversion? I don't think so, I personally think it's more of a symptom of my anxiety.

I love being alone. I love being in company of someone I care about deeply too, but there's a limit until I have to resort back into my hermit home under my covers nuzzled into my computer. This is a terrible thing because it makes it hard for me to keep friendships. People assume I don't like them, or I'm rude just because I prefer to be alone.

Quick Questionnaire About Me

1. How old are you? I'm sixteen years old.

2. Do you consider yourself mature for your age? Surprisingly, yes.

3. Are you an optimist or a pessimist? Pessimistic by far.

4. Do you hold people to higher standards than you hold yourself? Depends, really.

5. Do you constantly self-analyze? Yesyesyesyes.

6. What do you think when you look in the mirror? "Ew, gross."

7. What do you get most complimented on? My hair.

8. Is having lots of friends or having great grades more important to you? Great grades usually.

9. Are you patient or do you have a temper? I'm pretty chill about most things honestly.

10. How often do you think about human kind and our destiny? Wayyy too often.

11. Do you plan your life to the detail or leave it up to fate? I like to plan every detail but I'm learning how to "go with the flow" more often.

12. When you make plans with friends, how far in advance do you plan? A couple days, not too long that I psych myself out, but not too soon where I'm unprepared. 

13. Do you frequently speak exactly what’s on your mind? Out loud? Not often. 

14. Would you rather read or party with friends? Read, obviously. 

15. Are you really organized or super messy? I have a "organized chaos".

16. What’s more important, the process it takes to get to a solution or the solution? Why? The process because that's what determines your solution.

17. Are you afraid of failure? Failure, rejection, regret, yep. 

18. What is your favorite trait about yourself? I can kinda write decently on a good day. 

19. What is your favorite trait in other people? Honesty.

20. Name a celebrity or icon who you think has a personality close to yours: Ash Costello. 

Reasons I Hate "Tumblr" Girls

Now, before I get started please note that; ***I do not intend to offend anyone, I simply detest the way such people carry themselves. No, that does not mean they are immoral people, (or immortal as I originally accidentally typed) I just simply do not agree with their choices**** I find myself disagreeing with Tumblr girls for a numerous amount of reasons. To begin, I'll simply define the basic terms.

Tumblr- Social media site/blogging site.
Tumblr Girls- Stereotypical teenage girls who all act similar.

Most of you have probably heard of tumblr, if not, where have you been? Living under a WIFI-less rock? If you have, kudos to you. I couldn't do it personally. The idea behind tumblr is a blogging website that is easy to design, allows you to post videos, pictures, videos (if the video player EVER works right), and audio as well as chat dialogues. You can 'heart' posts, and reblog them as well. Seems like a great platform if you ask me, but if you agree you would be wrong.

In the beginning, sure, tumblr wasn't that bad. Now it's became mostly a washed up exaggerated tale of teenagers being...well-teenagers. Hormonal, overly sensitive, complicated teenagers.

Some tumblr users fall into a specific category though, a specific niche if you'll allow me to say, where they all feel like they have to be "so different", but in the long run end up acting all the same. Many users fake their way into the LGBT community, which I find completely disgusting. Yes, there are actually trans, bi, gay, and lesbian people out there. But no. not every single person on there has to fall into one of these categories. They feel like they have to though, it seems. They have to be their own "individual snowflakes".

These users also often have an inflated head full of an ego filled by their "followers". Often, these followers don't ever talk to this "tumblr celebrity" anyways, but that doesn't stop them from bragging about their 200k followers. These girls are wanna be hipsters who feel superior to the rest of their gender because of their little account.

How do I become a tumblr girl? You ask. Simple. Be perfect, photoshop yourself until you look like society's perfect girl. Act like you hate yourself even when in reality you love yourself and your "tumblr fame". Make up crazy fake stories about your life to get attention. Hate on people who you feel are less than you.

Sure, outside of these tumblr "cliques", the website isn't too bad. It's a great social platform for different types of people to contact anonymously if they'd like, it's a great place for adolescents to become more educated on different types of people as well as to help them learning about themselves.

Not Having Any Friends is Actually Pretty Cool According to Tumblr

Am I the only person whose utterly sick of every other person saying, "I don't have any friends, boohoo."?

A majority of these people really bother me because their claims are so empty that you're able to hear their own statements being echoed back at full speed. Sure, some of these speakers really have a vacant friend list, I get that. Quite frankly, I get that on a way too personal level.

Maybe it's just be, but I think it truly feels like teenagers are beginning to actually want to not have any friends. For some people, it's an easy task. For other's, their extroverted inner agenda's simply won't allow it. So in the end you'll end up with a large room full of these teenagers that claim "I don't have anybody." when two seconds later their phone blows up with 1,000 texts from their boyfriend/girlfriend, best friend, neighbor, and everybody else they know.

I get it, teenagers want to be cool, it's whatever. I myself feel this constant weight on my shoulders to be accepted by my peers as well, so don't feel like you're alone by any means.  I simply don't understand why this stigma of being alone in the world emerged in the first place. Isn't the objective of being liked, to have a large social group?

I think the trend began on tumblr, in all honestly. I used to be one of these people, a band member loving, other-people's tattoo/piercing/hair-dye obsessing, thinking-I-was-edgy, things. (Okay, I still love these things, but for god's sake I don't obsess over them anymore!) It seems like every blog I used to stumble upon or follow always had their descriptions plagued with something about how "alone" they were, and how they were infected by a string of mental illness, all self diagnosed using an online quiz, by the way.

Being alone constantly isn't at all cool. I'm a major introvert; I like being alone, don't get me wrong. But being alone constantly? I'll be the last one to admit that sometimes I get lonely truthfully. Being alone all the time is filled with longing feelings for contact, the dread of dying alone, you have nobody to trust or talk to, and most of all it can be extremely painful.

On the other-hand, there's people like me. We try to make friends, but struggle sufficiently.  No matter how hard I try it feels like everyone ignores me irregardless. I've tried everything, but I always scare people away from me. I'm sure I'm not alone on this, either.

If you're truly a loner, someone without friends, you'll understand when I say that I hate talking to people about being lonely.

"I don't have any friends, and it sort of sucks."
"Yes you do, you have tons of friends."
"Actually I don't."
"I'm sure you do! Stop being so pessimistic!"

OR

"If you're so lonely, why don't you make some friends?"
"I can't."
"What do you mean, you can't?
"I've tried, it isn't working."
"Try harder."

I don't understand why some feel the urge to make outrageous claims of being completely alone when in reality they have a slew of friends, and people that care about him.

I think my main point of this post is: if you actually have friends, please stop saying that you don't. Being friendless isn't cool, it's depressing. If you don't have friends, please know that you're not alone. There's others out there who feel just as lonely as you do, or maybe even more. Reach out, never stop trying.  

How to Quickly Get Over a Breakup

You don't. I mean this in the nicest manner possible. You can't quickly "get over" a breakup, especially a long term one. I think after two of these devastating events I'm pretty advanced on the topic though, so I figured I might as well try to give SOME tips, if I have any at all. I haven't exactly prewritten this post and I'm kind of totally winging it, nothing new, right?

1. Live your life. Seriously. I know it's going to be hard but, I mean, what have you left to loose? Maybe that's pessimistic optimism, I don't know. You're the only person who can live your own life though so don't rely on others.
2. Focus on you. In the end you're all that matters. Yes; the person you loved very much walked out and changed on you. That doesn't mean it's the end of the world even though it probably feels like it. 
3. Preoccupy your time. Spend plenty of time with friends and family, try not to have much if any free time. Time to sit, is time to ponder. Nothing good comes from dwelling on old memories and all thoughts. 
4. Learn from your mistakes. Look back, what caused your break up? Was it you or them? Try to figure things out honestly before pointing blame. Take this as an opportunity to learn from your mistakes. 
5. Don't deny it. I know it's a common coping method, but honestly denying your pain is only going to cause more pain in the long run. Accept fate, accept what happened and try to make the outcome more positive rather than negative.
6. Think of the bad times. Remember when your partner stole your hat and didn't give it back for months, without your approval? Or when they burped in your face and laughed about it on your first date? Try to remember all the negative things, even though your mind will want to keep reliving the happy moments. If you broke up, there's surely more negative times to keep your mind on.
7. Be thankful. Fate says you didn't belong with that person, be thankful you didn't waste even more time with them. 
8. Remove anything that triggers painful memories. I'm not telling you to throw away every gift they ever gave you, just hide them somewhere you won't accidentally find them. I know, I had a Build-A-Bear from my ex and when you pressed it's paw his voice said, "I love you". I used to ALWAYS stumble on it or accidentally lay on it and the voice through me into memories and endless tears. You DON'T want this!
9. Remember; crying is okay. It's okay to cry if you just lost a very important person in your life. It isn't okay to sit in your room all day moping and sobbing endless though. 

I know I'm certainly not an expert, and this post is very terribly written, but I figured maybe I could at least help one person. That's all that matters. 

Another Visit to the Psychiatric Unit

“Jail was preferable. There they only limited you physically. In a mental ward they tampered with your soul and worldview and mind.”  ― John Kennedy Toole

This quote is something I thought of today during my seemingly endless spirals of panic attacks and ever flowing tears. Most of today has ended up a blur in my mind, maybe it will become more clear as days go by, but I want to repress the fear and the anxiousness I've endured today. At least for now. I've cried for it seems like the past 24 hours constantly, cried on my way there, cried when the cops came, cried when I was there, cried when I took a nap after I got home. I'm an emo dirtbag, as you can to realize. At least in jail in you get phone calls, at least there you have some control over your time, you get told what's happening to you, and you have people there that listen. I can't say all psychiatric unit's are like this, but what I've experienced is pushing me towards that type of thinking. Yes, this visit wasn't as bad as my last, but it did not make it any less distressing at the time. I will highlight that fact later on as well.

As some of you might have known, I've been in the psych ward once before now, and my life's been filled with numerous threats for me to return. Today I had a temporary return, it certainly wasn't a bad as it's been before, but that doesn't make it any less scary. I think the best way to get you to really comprehend the immense toll this particular visitation, as well as former events, is to begin quite simply.

The last visit I made to this exact hospital was around last May, due to something similar than what had happened this time. One day I came home from school, my Mom wasn't there, by my Mom's, boyfriend's, Mom was. We lived with her. For a long time she was my best friend, she was like the relative I never had because a lot of my real family had disowned my mother and I due to past events, which I haven't decided if I would discuss or not on this blog. To put it simply, we weren't trusted nor liked. It didn't exactly bother as, or at least we liked to think so. My mother wasn't home when I got home from school because the night before she was put away for a very short while. I know it was temporary, it didn't upset me or startle me. It was just a fact of life. Just something that happens every once in awhile.

My route when I get home from school is to go into the bathroom and breathe, I sit on the floor and just listen to my mp3 for a few minutes to try to relax. I think now would be a good time to explain that I have a strong phobia of school, due to my anxiety. I fear social interaction extremely, and on top of that I'm a major introvert. I need a lot of time to myself, needless to say. I heard a knock on the bathroom door, I stripped my earbuds from my lobes and quickly stood up thinking it was John needing into the bathroom. If he wanted something, you needed to comply right away, or he would get angry. He could yell and threaten to call the cops and accuse of you of drugs or whatever he had on his mind that day. It was just a fact of life, something I had come to accept.

I quickly unlocked the door and ran out without thinking trying to make room for him to get inside before he became upset. I didn't look up for a couple moments because I was shuffling through songs, I heard a voice I didn't recognize so I looked up. What I had presumed to be the less threatening reality, ended up being one of my major phobias. There was a tall, broad shouldered, moustached cop standing in front of me with his arms crossed sternly. He proceeded to guide me into my bedroom and told me to pack my bags, I was leaving.

"Leaving?" I couldn't figure out why. I'm a good kid. I don't break laws, except the occasional jaywalking. I don't do drugs, I don't party, I'm not in a gang. I'm a honors student, I keep good grades and I get lots of awards in school and I try to make everybody like me. My mind started to race, trying to come up with a logical reason to what was happening, where I was going, and why. What had I done wrong? The cop further explained that my grandmother had filed for emergency custody of me that morning. It was a nightmare. I started panicking. Emergency custody? Going with a woman who I rarely ever saw, and when I did it was usually fighting? What about Mom? What about Brenda and John? I wanted to flee instantly. I felt tears began forming and before I could wipe them away they ran down my face making cracks in my makeup and soon washing my face bear. My heart rate sped up, shaky hands, racing thoughts. Am I dying? No. I know I wasn't. I couldn't be having a heart attack, I'm too young.

I quickly shoved all I could inside of my stuffed backpack. I didn't know what to grab, what to leave.
Should I take my sisters ash's? Should I take my Dad's blanket? Should I take my clothes? Should I take my hair brush. All the while this cop leaned over me, another close behind. I saw flashing lights outside and it through me into this rage. I shook and cried and pleaded not to have to go with them. He said he was sorry and he had no choice. I panicked. I don't remember what I said. I just remember feeling terrified. So much was happening, in such a short time. My Dad had only passed weeks before hand, and my Mom was put away. I felt alone. I felt out of control. I am a control freak, I need to be in control. I need to know what's happening. Nobody told me. Soon an ambulance arrived and I was escorted by the cops into the back of this ambulence. I started to cry as soon as my tears had stopped again.

I suffer from nosocomephobia (the fear of hospitals), politicophobia (fear of police), latrophobia (the fear of doctors), trypanophobia (fear of needles), and claustrophobia (the fear of being locked in/up), as well as other things of course, but this is mostly what pertains to this blog post. Usually in a normal day I would come in contact with none of these things, or at least extensively speaking. Sometimes I would have to suck it up and accept my fate experiencing maybe two of these fears. For example; I might have to go to the doctor to get a shot. Yes, that alone is a traumatic event as is for me, because of my overwhelming anxiety and PTSD. Facing two of those fears in one day is enough to knock me on my bum for weeks and to make me not want to leave my dark cave of a bedroom for a substantial amount of time. Luckily enough, today I got to experience all five of these phobias in less than a couple hours, back to back, even some at the same time! To someone who doesn't suffer from extreme crippling anxiety, this may be an overwhelming task, they may experience discomfort, that's normal. Now, imagine someone who their biggest fears were all cracking down on them, all at once, and they had no say when to stop it, when to calm it, or when to take a break. This was the reality I had to face.

Meanwhile, later on down the road while I'm in the emergency psychiatric unit I was talking to a nurse. Well...more like mumbling and gasping for air in between sobs. She tried to calm my fears by saying, "I'm a forty year old woman, and I'm still scared of horror movies. But sometimes I suck it up so my friends can watch the movie with me, and I know I'll be okay because it's an irrational fear, much like yours." And my smart-ass piped up by saying something along the lines of, "That's not exactly relatable. Your biggest phobia is something that you can pause and opt out of whenever you'd like. You get the decision on if you watch the movie or not, and you get to decide how to react. I cannot. I have an extreme reaction where I start to shake, sweat, and panic. A panic that is completely out of my control. A panic that is so terrible that people in the past have mistaken it for a heart attack or psychosis." Let's just say the nurse wasn't too thrilled with me.

After much discussion with the doctors and social workers, I finally somewhat proved to them that I was stable enough to go home, and that staying hospitalized would end up being worse for me in long run because of missing work and school. Yes, this visit was less traumatic than the last, thankfully. That didn't make everything that happened today okay though, afterall. It was a large mess, that maybe I'll get into in a future post, I don't know. I want to keep this broad and try to stay on topic better.

Yes, I haven't been forced to stay in the psych ward for a long time. I am no expert on the subject nor do I have a degree of any sort. I simply have my own experiences that I've learned from, and others that I have studied to learn from as well. Growing up I had a fascination with these places, family were in there a lot, it was normal. I wondered what happened behind closed doors. I am morbidly curious about the oddities, but I would have rather learned about this one from the safety of my own bed with my fuzzy kitten asleep next to me.

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p.s.
I wrote this awhile back but I'm just NOW posting because I'm a sad blob.