So earlier, I was watching some national news report today. They, of course, had a bit about the recent CO shooting. The whole bit with Holmes' psychiatrist. You know what bothered me? She had a chilling specialty. Oh no, not just any specialty a chilling specialty in schizophrenia. I'm sorry, but I find that horribly offensive. Why is a specialty in schizophrenia any different than one in mood disorders, bi polar, anorexia, drug addiction, Alzheimer's or any other? Is society as a whole that scared of schizophrenia?  What if he was bi polar? What if he was actually anti social (in the clinical sense)? Would we still be saying she had a chilling specialty? By saying that, you've created and reinforced the stigma of schizophrenia. Does anyone personally know someone with the disease? I do. I might even know two.

By calling attention to her specialty, it's drawing negative feelings and hundreds of thousands of people saying "I knew it" when they really didn't. I'm not surprised he has a mental disorder or if he was simply getting help. But what if he wasn't schizophrenic? What if it was just a coincidence? Why does it matter what she specialized in? By calling attention to her specialty, you begin to label all schizophrenics and murderers. But that is far from true. That is so far from true it's offensive. Is every Muslim a terrorist? No. So why does it matter that she specialized in schizophrenia? I'm sure there are thousands of psychiatrists that do.

There are also millions of people getting treatment for mental illnesses. Does that mean they're all going to become mass murderers? Are they suddenly criminals because they aren't as sane as the rest of us? Of course that's down right absurd. So why does it matter what she specialized in? Why do you have to make it such a big deal that she even did that? Is the reason for the report to continually paint Holmes as the bad guy, even though we know what he did was down right despicable? Or are we continually painting him as the bad guy and adding a mental illness, something completely out of his control, as proof?

Personally I find the specialization noble. It's absolutely terrifying living with schizophrenia when you have it yourself. I don't even have it, but I've been witness. To find a treatment. To find a cause. To find a cure. All of that is so noble. I want my friends and family and strangers I've never met to live a completely normal life free from the grips of the disease.

So I'm sorry, but one single word  is terribly offensive. Maybe if the media didn't subconsciously plant the stigma of mental illnesses (especially schizophrenia) maybe people would be more open and more willing to get help. I understand why people target the disease. Depending on the type of schizophrenia, you are suspicious of everyone and everything. You see things. You hear things. You slowly go insane because you don't know whats real. Yes, violence can stem from the confusion and possible rage. But having a mental illness just isn't socially acceptable, it seems. If you have something wrong with you, you are liable to be teased and pushed over the edge. Do this to someone with a mental illness and the consequences can be dire.

Holmes was the right age to show symptoms of schizophrenia in the traditional sense. He had triggers to begin the disease, as well as triggers to make him snap and become a killer. Would he have become a killer without the disease? That's hard to say or judge. The point is, he is not his disease. He is not a killer because something is wrong with his brain. He was seeing someone that could help him. I am also assuming that he was going to this particular psychiatrist because he is schizophrenic. But like I pointed out before, it could be coincidence.

I just wish news could report straight facts. No fancy words. She was a psychiatrist that specialized in schizophrenia. That is a fact. Do you know how I feel about that? She is a person doing good for the world. Of course, why do I need to know what she's specializing in? She's a psychiatrist that was helping Holmes. At least he was getting help. He was doing something that so many people need to do but are too afraid to. She has a chilling specialty? No. She doesn't. She had a specialty in a disease we don't understand. She is doing something to help people and the media is only soiling the idea of schizophrenics as real people. Is my dad any less of a good person just because he is a paranoid schizophrenic that's afraid to take his medicine because it might be poison? Is his quiet, god-loving, never-hurt-a-fly demeanor undone because he has something going on in his head he can't control? Is his love any different? Or is he simply a 62 year old killer in disguise? If he is, it's news to me.

In the end, choose your words a bit more carefully next time news. Maybe you should stick to what's true and leave the adjectives to the audience. I can judge for myself if her specialization is chilling or not.

I love going barefoot and that's no secret to anyone that's known me for more than three days. In fact, I love going barefoot so much that it's earned me the nickname "River" among my friends. (River Tam, from Firefly for those of you that might get the reference).

I got bored earlier and started looking at wedding related stuff (okay, so I was watching TLC and I got kinda inspired). That turned into realizing that I will probably walk down the aisle barefoot. Of course, I had to look at laws regarding barefootness.. and to my surprise, it is legal to drive barefoot (YES) and entering public places barefoot is totally legal too. So you know what I'm going to do with much more frequency?

Leave the house.

But in all seriousness, I do want to go out barefoot a little more often. I think it would be fun.

I also don't understand why it's so socially unacceptable to be barefoot. I love the feel of the earth on my soles and the construct of shoes just feels unnatural. Maybe I'm a slight hippie at heart, but I hate shoes. I can barely stand them in the summer when all I wear are flipflops and flats... now imagine winter when I have to wear socks and actual shoes on top of that! Needless to say, I mourn very heavily the first week of truly cold weather.

I wish that it was safer to go around cities and such barefoot. I mean, there's the danger of glass and other sharp objects which, if you are careful, you can avoid. I would much rather like to roam around freely and not have to worry about. I understand that feet can get dirty (I'm so guilty of coming home with black feet), but that can hardly be avoided. It's unlikely though, that actual diseases are contracted through the feet. Half the problem with walking around barefoot is people go and put wet feet into closed toed shoes!

Another thing about shoes. Mine almost always smell because my feet sweat. It's an unfortunate fact of life, and I know I'm not alone. That's why more often than not, I am barefoot in the summer. I simply despise shoes. However, flats are about the next best thing if I have to conform. I go through them like crazy because I practically destroy them with how I walk/run/stand and so on. I was made to be barefoot.

I think it's easier on my joints if I do everything barefoot. Sure I'm extremely short, but I can manage on tip toes. Not a huge deal, all in all.

Maybe the only shoes I like to wear (if only for a short time) are high heels. It's mostly because they make me feel tall, confident, and depending on the heel... kinda sexy. But that's usually not for too long. I abandon heels ASAP.

So, my consensus? MORE BARE FEET! I am going to strive to be barefoot as often as possible. Obviously in my profession and studies, I won't be able to do that for fear of actually losing my feet... Chemistry deals with some fantastically dangerous stuff. But I'm going to try and throw off the social construct. Within reason, of course. I don't think I'm about to go on a date barefoot any time soon...

 He must become greater; I must become less.
    -- John 3:30

A very disjointed post follows.

I cut my hair. It's so short. I kinda miss my long hair! Aaaaahhh... oh well. Not much I can do about it now. I just gotta wait for it to grow. But oh well. I think I can deal with that reasonably well.

College shopping is mostly done! HALLELUJAH. OMG. I'm seriously fed up with all this shopping.

My eyes are pretty much the same. Again.

I miss people.

I have to laugh at a text I got from one of my best friends. "My parents want to know when they'll get to see you again."

I've seen his parents more in the past few weeks I was up there than I had ever since I've known him.

Yay. I'm liked.

I guess that's all.

I'm bored.

I've been sewing. My machine has been oiled and no longer squeaks. I also got a rotary cutter! Now I just need a cutting mat, but all in due time.

I'm sewing a jacket. It should be fun.

I don't even know what my next project will be...

Anyhow... I should sleep. I'm up far too late.

 "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock
and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives;
he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be
opened."
    -- Matthew 7:7-8

I don't even know how long it's been since I've updated this thing. All I know is that I've been sucking at being a regular blogger. Mostly because I just haven't had the motivation.

Overall, things have been iffy with me. I've been having some fabulous days, and I've been having some less than stellar days. I'm riding a lovely roller coaster of emotions and straight up feelings, but I guess that's how it's always been. I just need to make sure I keep myself in control of everything that's going on. I also need to regulate myself because I sure as hell don't have anyone with me to help me with that. I just gotta man up and take care of myself for once.

I hardly have any idea of what to say. I've been thinking about starting my own sewing blog, not like anyone would really frequent it, but I've been doing a lot of sewing lately. It would be interesting to see if I could maintain something like that. I guess I've just been throwing myself into different passions because writing just hasn't been cutting it for me. Either I haven't had the inspiration, or anything that I've been writing is just... sucking.

I just... I don't know anymore. I've been riding a rough wave of depression that's been coming and going. I've recently started eating regular meals again, thanks to a friend. However, now that I'm not living with her, it might be easier to just stop again. My motivation to stay healthy can just... go away. Same with my sleeping patterns. Now that I don't have anything to do, I can stay up super late, sleep in like crazy and just not do anything. I can retreat into my mind and speak only a handful of words a day. I can cut myself off from any social interaction with ease now. The fact that I'm thinking all of these things is a little off putting. But I don't care anymore. I'm ready for the aches and pains that have already started. I'm ready for the dramatic change in my psyche. I already know how my life is going to go.

Maybe I need help.

Maybe I'm too afraid to ask for it.

Maybe I'm too afraid to accept it.

Maybe, just maybe, I don't want any of this to be true.

I swear, if I didn't have the fear of having scars to explain, I might actually devolve into self injury. But I never want to have to explain my scars. I already have one too many.

I'm crazy, aren't I? I'm starting to delve into something I should never be. Right now I'm not sure if it's the late night talking, or if I'm really truly upset. I'm not sure if I just have some anxiety about college, or if this is something that needs to be dealt with right now. I just don't know.

I think my problem is that I don't like talking to the people that could truly help me because I'm afraid of being judged. I know that the people that can't help me won't judge me because they're my friends and they accept me. That's the end of the story. Sure, my family is one thing, but they have to live with me and they can have whatever thoughts they want. I already know what my sister would/does/could think about all of this. I'm afraid that mentality spreads throughout the family. Even thought I know it's not true. Whatever I'm battling, I'm not alone... and I just refuse to believe that in my core.

Maybe I just want to suffer alone because it's easier that way. That way no one can be hurt by my actions. That way I don't have to worry about anyone being sad when I leave. That way I won't have to worry about people wasting their precious time on me. That way, I can make a nice quiet exit and not have to worry about the backlash.

I hate this. All of this. I'm endlessly conflicted. I know why I have to live, but at the same time, it gets harder and harder for me to carry on. I love my friends, but they're slowly slipping away from me. I've had a dream that I've always wanted to realize, but maybe I'm in over my head. I'll never be able to accomplish such a large task. So why should I try in the first place?

I just don't understand.

I need something.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience,
kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
Against such things there is no law.
    -- Galatians 5:22-23