This is me.

I am having disturbing dreams. Otherwise known as nightmares. I've had them for a while but never spoken about them because they are the kind you only recollect small bits and pieces. All I could tell you is that they were scary. Scary not in like fleeing monsters kind of way... well kind of. Since starting a new job I have had no time to process what I am writing. My time is either spent writing or working. My plan is to start school up again when this book is finished and surprisingly my parents actually made me realize that doing all three would be really overwhelming. My old job I got about every other day off with considerably less hours than I work now which gave me time to process my thoughts and emotions collectively. I do not have as much time to process what I am feeling and they are coming out in my dreams or nightmares I guess you would call them. I had a nightmare last night that really tripped me up and left me half of the morning calming myself down. I've had...

Right now I am writing about my freshman year of high school. High school was an odd time and I am not sure how I feel about it. High school was not your average experience filled with friendship and parties and I wish that I got to experience that. I have to keep reminding myself that I was doing the best I could and that is all that mattered at the time. Now I am alone, now that I am out of school and I have to admit it is harder than I expected to find my place in this world. I have no idea what I'm doing, whether it is the right thing to do or not. What I do know is I am meant to be a writer, that I know for sure. I am meant to write this book for those who are like me. For teachers to recognize how their teaching affects students in a good or bad way. Most importantly to hopefully open their eyes to reality of what is going on inside their classroom. For me it has been difficult to navigate a social life as an adult, especially when you are not a social outgoing person. I ...

Throughout writing I have been beginning to realize a few things that is important to me in the writing process. Things that are helpful and things that are not, with anything it is important to know yourself enough to recognize what you need. For me what I need is acceptance without feeling the need to explain myself. This book has been a long deep wound that I am dissecting bit by bit and it fucking stings. More than I originally thought it would. First and foremost I need to process it through myself and having to explain myself and talk through things is not how I best work through things. How I have been somewhat successful at talk therapy is beyond me. It is easier to first accept it and then slowly begin to process each piece which is almost always followed by bouts of self-reflection. Through that self-reflection, the last thing I need is to talk it out which almost always leads to explaining myself as if something about the situation was in need of fixing. I feel as thou...

I am really struggling with something called derealization. In response to writing this book which is becoming harder and harder to write. Not necessarily the context but my connection to the little girl that I am writing about: Me. I still have this overwhelming drive to write which I am glad. Derealization is something I have experienced before when I was younger but it is back with more intensity than I am comfortable with. I feel as though I am not real, I am not real in my own environment. It is an interesting thing to experience because half of me believes I am crazy. In reality I know it is just the effects of my past coming to a head. I like to convince myself that I am over my past, I mean it happened 5 years ago? I'm supposed to be over it right? Unfortanetly not. I am learning to be accepting of the fact that in some ways I am not over it and that is okay. That is valid. My feelings towards the events are valid. This book is not getting easier to write, more so with th...

I traveled back to my old high school to watch my brother play in his basketball games. I knew going back to the school would be somewhat difficult but I would just go back on my merry way. I was mistaken. Going back to that high school was not remincising on the lunch room gossip (there wasn't any), the classroom discussions or the just plain simple fact that I was in school. The reminiscing was of that little girl. Me. The little girl who was only four years younger than me seems so very far away. Far away in the way she responded, to her outward world, to herself. Writing this book is even more of a reflection of that pain. Everytime I ask myself "Why am I writing this?" "Is this book going to make an impact?" I remind myself of her. To all the teachers who are somewhat blindsided with the society of the public school system. This is why. I am pursuing a transformation of the worst moments into moments of triumph. Moments of expressing my voice that I just ...

This blog is mainly for my own documentation, to look back on the process of everything that goes into writing a book. Today I showed my mom my draft of the lengthy story of my seventh grade year and the response I got was a very good one. Reading my words, made her cry in some parts and anger in others. I know my mom and she would not tell me that draft was good if it wasn't. I am glad I have her as an editor if you will because she will always tell me the truth. Hearing her response of how good it was made me feel even more motivated and passionate to continue on. I am proud of what I have written and will continue to write. I feel as if writing my times in middle school provided a closure that I didn't expect to occur. That chapter is done and I feel as though I can literally close that chapter in my mind and somewhat move on more than I ever have before. It feels good. I am no longer bitter, or just confused. I am confident with my story and for that I am proud.  Writi...