Let's Take Another 360...

In spite of the fact that I've promised you all I'd start blogging more and journaling, I've done none it. I've actually found myself leaning ever so darker into the abyss that is the existential crisis.

Just when I thought I had left the circle of societal pressure, and beauty magazines as a whole, I found myself flipping through a beauty website again today. Like all other times, there was a present self-doubt accompanied by the sick hope that maybe, just maybe, if I had those products, thicker hair, and a more charming personality I might be more beautiful. I might be encouraged to exercise more and be skinnier, and who knows? Maybe I'd finally be inspired to finish that daft, short novel of mine.

It's a fleeting feeling, I realize, to feel elevated/encouraged by new make-up ideas, brighter, more organic ways to clear skin, or even simple hair masks. Yes, hair masks. Yet, the feeling is often quickly replaced by self-doubt, and a need to do anything to simply be pretty.

I want to look like the ideal Pinterest girl.

Skinny.

Trendy outfits.

Thick, natural curly hair.

Aggravating can't even begin to explain this emotion.

On those notes, I will continue to not let my looks affect my writing, and will be slowly be pulling myself from social media a smidgen. Not selfishly I hope, or jealous of everyone else's looks, but in an attempt to realize that we are all naturally beautiful, even if I don't look like someone else who I believe is more beautiful than me.

Do with this information what you will, but realize, you are more than what society pegs you as.

With love,

Gwen

Existential Crisis

Hello!

So I've seen and read, especially recently, a lot of people going through the common problem often referred to as, "The Existential Crisis." Basically, doubting the importance of their being often accompanied by a large feeling of self-doubt or that you'll never accomplish anything worth noting. (See: The Secret Life of Walter Mitty.)

So I thought I'd share mine because...reasons.

I was doing Trig. today *inwardly groaning*, which ended very anti-climatically in tears.

Yes, tears. Not just that though- no. These tears brought on a wallop of self-doubt, and before I knew it, I had connected the lack of understanding in Trig. with basically every disappointing thing I had ever done, which ended up contributing to how I was a generally disappointing person as a whole.

Real mature, I know.

I turned a math lesson into a self- pity -party which did nothing but emotionally destroyed me for an hour, and made me feel very close to worthless, and like I had no purpose in life.

So before you go on ranting about, "But you have to understand that God will put you where you need to go, and it will all be ok in the end," because I know that bit. That's the bit I've always known since I could basically understand human speech. What I'd like to know is how to survive the bits inbetween that bit. The actual decisions you have to make for yourself. Because seriously, neither society nor your parents tell you the middle part about you actually being an adult. It literally goes over everyone's head.

They don't tell you that Trig. will make you panic because, "I don't know what congruent triangles are, I'm going to fail college!" even when you're not quite sure what you're doing with your life.

They actually sugar-coat that part some.

I did some research on this and it would seem that a surprising number of people suffer from this "mid-life crisis." I may as well be added to that last. I'm not judging, I just spent the last hour crying over math, how ugly I was, how lonely I was, how un-approachable I was, how dumb I was, etc. Don't worry, apparently a lot of people are going through the same thing.

If we're mad, we may as well be mad together, right? *cries*

Yea, so I did that this afternoon. Then ate loads of chocolate and cried about my weight. *bangs head.*

The point is, I suppose, that you're not alone in thinking that you're unimportant, insignificant, and all together unnoticeable. We all go through it. I've even heard some people get over this and do important things with their lives. Who knew, right?

So I'll be keeping a journal (read somewhere that it helped) which I suppose you're supposed to make an entry every day, and then the next day when you go and make another entry, you read yesterday's, and it's supposed to make you feel better or something.

Like, if you wrote "Such a stupid-head today," then the next day you'd read it, kind of smile, and force yourself to feel good about yourself by seeing how ridiculous that entry was. So I'll be hopefully posting about how well that goes for me. *continues crying*

DON'T LET YOUR EMOTIONS RULE YOU.

Anyways, for all you self-doubting people out there, I feel you. We all go through those bad days, and it doesn't feel like it at the moment, but supposedly it's supposed to get better. And you know, you're only young once. May as well enjoy life while your vision is still good. :)

With love,

Gwen

Why So Furious?

Seabiscuit (2003) has possibly been one of the most well-done book-to-film adaptations ever to hit screens. It was nominated for Best Film in the 2003 Oscars, and although it lost, it's memorable cast and unique screenplay make it one of the best movies of that decade. Lovely as it is as a whole, there is something so thought provoking about individual parts of movies; and Seabiscuit is no exception.

Insignificant to some, there is a conversation that occurs between the jockey (Red Pollard) and the horse's owner (Charles Howard) which is greatly underrated. It happens after a boisterous jockey cuts off Red in a race. Red, having only done smaller, more unrestrained races, responds with curse words and even attempts to cut off the other jockey as well; this causes him to lose the race. Back in the barn, the horse's trainer (Tom Smith), chastises him for his mistake. This leads to an argument that seems to have no resolve, when Charles Howard finally steps up.

He says, "Son, what are you so mad at?"

Red is silent. He knows full well where his anger and aggression comes from, he understands that which haunts him, but it had never occurred to him that someone else might notice too. It may have crossed his mind, that yes, these people who for some reason have welcomed him into their home, fed him without price, would eventually call him out. After all, they've had some time to get to know him. Whatever the reason, Red is thrust face to face with his on-going inner battle. It's poetic, and especially heart-warming that Charles doesn't place the kid's mistake as immaturity, he notices that there are inner problems at hand, and if Red doesn't address them first, then he would get nowhere.

Mr. Howard himself had gone through much in the first half-hour of the film, which allows him to relate to Red's feelings, and see through what the trainer simply could not. Because, after all, in the words of Tom Smith, "You know, you don't throw a whole life away just 'cause he's banged up a little."

With Love,

Gwen