on my name change

my old name carried so much weight with it. it carried a lot of pain and hurt.
my new name I like a lot, it was a thoughtful and inspired. it's also gender neutral. I love it.
and I hope you'll respect that by calling me by that.

I wrote this in passing

people, people everywhere
milling about
and rushing about
while they make quick judgments
and shake their heads assuming things about me in their oakley shades, aldo suedes and ralph lauren sweaters
'cause I'm wearin' no name brand jeans, a yellow t-shirt, and $5 dollar shades that says more about me than they'll ever bother to wanna about me.
looking down on me 'cause I eat generic food and buy shit at thrift store that they'd pay $300 for.
then got the nerve to ask me "why you look like that? are you okay?"
am I okay living in a world where buying designer clothes and eating top notch dinners is more important than trying to get to know someone despite their status?
am I okay living in a world where sometimes the financial pressures get too heavy to bear and my life seems like it's about to tear.
am I okay barely keeping my head above water wondering where my next meal is gonna come from?
am I okay with trying to keep a straight face while you describe your last trip to urban outfitter and how much you spent buying this and that.
I ain't okay and sometimes it gets so hard I'd rather succumb.
and thanks to you one day it'll make me lose my mind
and honestly that'll be divine.

-- Lexy

once again

I'm tired of people coming in and telling me what to think and feel about my life.
I was riding the high of finding out that I'd gotten an A on my paper in communications. I've never gotten an A on anything on unc. it leaves me hope that maybe I am good at something. but then people come in with their "experiences" and sweeping accusations and they never cease to make me feel like less.

your life was rough
you've got the experiences of a grown woman
you've experienced so much hurt and loss
but I have too
and you talk to me as though I want what I've got
as though I'm proud of the things I have to do to get myself outta this slump
I was already sad and down and mad and hurt
that I had to take those things
those mind altering drugs
but I had become okay with it
I was dealing with it
and I should have known it wouldn't last
known my high would be blown by something real fast
and just as I should have know
you come along
with your sweeping generalities and knowledge
putting me down
letting me know that I shouldn't be down
(as if I already didn't know
as if wanted to be)
'cause life was gonna get much harder
and 'cause I wouldn't be able to keep my fixers forever
and I sat quietly recieving your message
feeling as though it was all true
slowly breaking down
and you left
and I cried.
feeling as though I was nothing.
absorbing your words
feeling weak and hurt as I always do
feeling sad because for some reason that's what I always resort to
feeling alone because I have no one to run to
(or don't want to 'cause i don't like getting people down with my troubles)
feeling like shit.
all just like I always do
starting this cycle of self hate and abuse all over again.
and even though I don't understand why (and probably never will)
it's what I always do.
and that's why I need the "fixers".
something to help me find new ways to cope with this hell we call life
so I don't feel so hopeless all the time
but then I remember needing fixers is for the weak and helpless
so now I hate me. . .
once again. . .

-- Lexy

a breath of fresh air

today was pride. I'm still awake. I have yet to go to sleep from yesterday and I had to drink a five hour energy but that's okay 'cause I loved it. it was like a breath of fresh air in it all.
in the heteronormative world we live in where the fight for rights is continual.
where the fight for live is continual.
it was a breath of fresh air to someone like me whose been under the weather for quite some time now.
a burst of energy for those who felt like they had none left.
a canvas for those who thought they weren't creative.
an outlet for those who are scared of what others may think.
a home for those who feel like an interloper everywhere else.
a place for outrageousness.
a place where everyone is loved.
a place where I felt at home.

pride was amazing, it was my first one but it was so great to see so many people out and people bought out their children and babies too. that was encouraging.
it was great to see that streets got blocked off and police escorts were provided for our day of celebration too. it was great to see so many people so jovial. everything was so amazing.
there were plenty of flaws in sight but the amazingness swallowed them whole and I will always cherish this day no matter what.

&& I'm out.
-- Lexy

and so it still exists

this university every year never ceases to show me that racism still exists.
this girl indirectly told me she was racist last night on the p2p and that it was intrinsic, she couldn't help it. I never knew ignorance and hatred came natural.
anyways I've never felt so marginalized but in my tiredness I couldn't respond. couldn't lash back. for you see I had only had 2 hours of sleep the night before and it was then 11 p.m. I was beat. she caught me on the right day and good for me I suppose because any other day I would have slapped her ass.
so for those of you who question whether race is still relevant just look to me to let you know.
on a happier note today was payday and I can finally stop feeling so shitty about my bank account.
I live a true paycheck-to-paycheck lifestyle. some would say but not really 'cause you've got your parents but not me. they live one too. we aren't that well off. so I depend on others and that's a blow to the psyche. it sucks.
I haven't got much to say though. just that it was an okay day today. life seems like it can be okay. like I can breathe a little more.

&& I'm out.
-- Lexy

when will it end?

it's been "three" days since I've posted and I apologize. I've been trying to update every other day but sometimes it's really hard with my busy life especially since I like to post very thought provoking, heartfelt blogs.

today I read "a very hungry girl" by jessica weiner, yet another book for women's studies. it was depressing at first but then she actually gave us solutions at the end. she makes it seems like the tunnel actually has a light at the end. I still feel crappy though and often times I feel as though life has defeated me, like I want to throw up that white flag of surrender but my friends won't let me. mainly haley and trinh. so I would like to give a very special thanks to them. continuing though I'm supposed to be going back to cws this morning but I'm really apprehensive and sort of ashamed. . .why you may ask, that is because I did this same thing last year. I feel ashamed that I'm needing this help again, that I've let myself slip so far off the bandwagon. it hurts and it sucks. now that I'm writing this I kind of don't even want to be talking about it at all especially not with the internet but I've learned that if we share our stories we can prevent someone else from experiencing our immense pain.

I don't exactly know how to explain it except mood swings but generally at one moment I can be happy, okay, ambitious, ready to tackle the world and literally moments later I'm full of rage, hate and anger and once that phase passes I swiftly move into sadness. it usually lasts much longer than the other phases, ranging from hours to days. a sadness that is filled with despair and hate of my very being, every single thing that makes up me. eventually that hate builds up to intense suicidal thoughts and impulses in which I am on the verge of throwing myself into traffic or jumping from a tall building (both of which are highly accessible on unc's campus). my friends though knowing how close I am to losing my sanity are constantly looking out, watching and stopping me. they stop me but it doesn't stop the intensity of the feelings. the only thing that does that is sleep or music but sleep is highly elusive since my mind is usually racing with thoughts making music the default. it only quells the feelings and thoughts though, nothing completely gets rid of them. in this stage I'm usually very antisocial and mean. I hate it, I push my friends away and isolate myself exactly what I don't want nor need. I have no idea where this came from and why it's so intense this semester. sometimes I think it's this campus, I don't know. the pretentious bitches who walk around making us all feel bad about ourselves.

it's like here I am nothing. I have nothing. no special talents, no extraordinary writing ability, no physical beauty, no charisma, no academic success or anything. I am average, if that. it's hard to feel special here, especially for me. I feel constantly marginalized by other people. I am fat, I am ugly, I am undesirable. I feel these things on a daily basis and no matter how many times I confide in my dad he comes at it with a firm hand rather than understanding and in the end it just makes it all worse and makes the self loathing stronger. I have no assets, I have nothing to offer this world is what I constantly feel like and I don't know how much longer my mind can withstand such a beating. . .

&& I'm out.
-- Lexy.

My Thoughts May Just Be The Death of Me

last night I was up far too late as usual because I took a nap earlier and I was thinking about the phone conversation I had with my dad earlier that day. I called him to catch up because it had been far too long since we'd had a conversation of substance. at any rate we were chatting and what not and I was talking about the triangle pride parade this coming weekend except I didn't say that. I just said "yea there's a parade this weekend so I don't think you all should come up." my dad's always been the nosey/inquisitive type so he asked if there was a holiday this weekend and I was like "yes, sort of. I mean", exactly like that. the next thing he said was "are you in a place where you don't feel safe talking about it?" I thought, wtf? no. if anything the people here all rush to the gay pride but to him I simply said "no, it's the triangle pride parade." pause. it's not as if my parents don't know, I mean they do it's just that the conversation is always awkward and I would just prefer not to talk about it with them plain and simple so whenever I do gay things I just say it and move on or don't bother telling them. resume. he then says "well you know we're okay with your choice. . ." I really don't remember much of what he said after that because I was so irked by that comment that I was off the phone within a minute later. the one thing I really pushed to them about my sexuality was that it was not something I chose, it just was. and he says that all the time, every single time he brings it up and it's quite annoying. it's disrespectful and honestly it leads me to believe he is not really okay with it, he's just saying that to say it. I was so irritated by the conversation I didn't even think about the fact that he said my family wouldn't be home for my birthday even though I would (another blow to the face). I was supposed to call my mom and nana after that but I just couldn't because I was so agitated.

it was later while I was thinking that it would be a lot easier than people think for me to become estranged from the majority of my family just because of their silly opinions, sexist attitudes and ridiculousness. I love them and they helped me a lot while growing up but they also hindered me and hurt me too. and continue to do it even when I inform them, making them better informed people! that means they make conscientious decisions to further hurt me and say mean things and honestly I don't want to be associated with such nonsense. I don't hate them, I never could but I strongly dislike their actions and the opinions they display sometimes. so until I see a change. I won't be putting myself in harms. *shrugs*

&& I'm out.
-- Lexy

Why I'm No longer Eating at Thanksgiving

at t-giving I'll no longer be participating in the talk around the dinner table, chowing down on baked ham, dressing and cranberry sauce or taking that after dinner nap.

why you may ask. well it's simple: blatant sexism. the men in my family believe heavily in gender roles and I refuse to take a part in the laziness they exude every year at thanksgiving. every year the women slave in the kitchen the night before and day of cooking all those dishes and making sure everything is perfect. and every year the women serve the men their dinners and every year the men eat their food, pat their stomachs, yawn, get up and push away from the table to go lie on the couch and watch football or smoke or whatever. and what do the women do after they've slaved over the stove, served them, and eaten themselves? they then proceed to march back in the kitchen and wash scores of dishes. the huge pots all the food was in, the plates we ate off, and the silverware we ate with. it's utterly ridiculous and I REFUSE to participate in it anymore. if I don't eat, I don't have to take a part in that cleanup madness. don't the men think that the women are perhaps a little tired after two days of cooking? or do they just not care at all? I honestly believe it's the latter. I constantly bring it up and they either laugh or brush me off as just a rebellious teenager.
well no more will I be laughed at or brushed off.

will it suck to smell all that delicious food and know that I am not allowing myself to partake in it? yes it will but it can and will be done. these men need to learn I am nobody's servant and just like I have two hands to wash a dish, so do you. so you can shove your chauvinistic, sexist, bigoted point of view up your ass for all I care. and the women are just as guilty because they LET their men get away with it and what do they do while they let them get away with it? they complain! ha! I will no longer listen to the complaints and I will no longer watch those fellows sit idly by. I will take matters into my own hands and prove a point because at this thanksgiving I won't be eating.

besides who needs all that fattening food in one day anyway?

&& I'm out
-- Lexy