Topic Tuesdays: Raw & Personal

Epilepsy through a 4th-Grader.

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I was once a child with epilepsy, and it’s something a lot of people don’t know about me.

My epilepsy story is weird because it truly came out of nowhere with no explanation to this day. To be honest, because of it being a brain disorder, I don’t remember much about this time because this disorder had me feeling disorientated and forgetful most of the time. What I remember, though, is that it started around May 2003 and I was just about to finish the third grade. I don’t remember having seizures at this time, but my mother started to notice me doing this weird head moving, arms moving motion every once in awhile until it became more frequent. Every time she would ask me what was wrong, I told her I was fine because I truly thought that I was fine. The truth, though, is that I had no idea what I was doing. My mother took me to my doctor and recommended for me to see a neuro doctor. This was the start of my frequent visits to the hospital.

Continue reading “Epilepsy through a 4th-Grader.”

Topic Tuesdays: Advice

What Grad School Taught Me.

I’m the first one within my immediate friends’ group and family to be attending grad school. Ultimately, I didn’t plan on going to grad school for my Master’s because I thought four years of college were enough to last me for a lifetime. I knew I wanted to expand my studies in Cinema because I wanted to become a scriptwriter for awhile, and I needed more studies in film and television if I wanted to pursue that as a career. I applied in Fall 2015 to attend a film school in Fall 2016. I got rejected due to limited spots within the program, and by that point, I felt extremely discouraged and told myself that grad school was officially out of the picture.

Until CSI granted me the opportunity to continue my studies in their MA program for English. I felt blessed to have this handed to me without having a backup plan after the film school rejected me, so I decided to stay at my college and study English (again) as a grad student.

I am currently wrapping up my first official year of grad school. I will be graduating this time next year.

Boy how time flies.

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If you were to ask “22-year-old college senior Liz” what grad school would be like, I would tell you that it was going to be tedious, but nothing that I can’t handle. I still remember my last famous words being “I did 5 classes for two semesters straight; how hard could two classes be?”

Dear “22-year-old college senior Liz”, you played yourself.

Prior to attending grad school, I planned to do a lot of things with the spare time I thought I was going to have. I wanted to be more involved with my school’s drama club, I wanted to write a lot more scripts and potentially make them into short films or scenes, and I definitely wanted to finally get a job. After realizing that I had a project already due the first day of grad school, I realized just how intense grad school was going to be.

Grad school is definitely a different type of commitment you make than regular college. Nowadays, it’s ideal to go to college after high-school; most careers and jobs require a Bachelor’s degree. Going to grad school and getting your Master’s isn’t as common, hence why it’s more a commitment. The reality of it all is that you don’t have to go to grad school; you could be perfectly fine with life with just your Bachelor’s degree. So when you decide to pursue grad school and it becomes too much to handle, the question of “do I really need to do this?” definitely comes up. I know it did for me.

Grad school, especially studying English, requires a lot of research. You’re writing 20-page final papers, you’re putting on presentations for 4 different projects, and your vacation days and breaks that you have are strictly for doing work.

Grad school has definitely taught me a lot about my work ethic and how to properly handle my time management. My undergrad years I did my work very last minute, especially in classes that I really didn’t like. I went through many semesters not reading any of the books for my literature course and still managed to pass all of them with A’s and such. Grad school… a completely different ball game. The readings are longer, dense, and require a lot more of your time in order to engage in class discussions and most of all, you’ve made it this far. People don’t understand that at when in a grad-level class, everyone made it just as far as you. People are a lot more intellectual, and the people who may appear like they don’t do much in class are the same people who are honestly just low-key geniuses.

The truth of it all is that you have to physically prepare yourself for grad school and even then you’re not fully ready. People assume that grad school is just going to be a little bit harder than undergrad (or even easier) when really, two classes feel like two full-time jobs. Grading is different, attendance is different, the work is different, and yes – even the stress is different.

In my bad habits turned to good ones’ post, I explain how I had to revamp my time management skills by pretty much using my calendar to write down even the days that I have to do work. Grad school work is nothing like undergrad; YOU CANNOT LEAVE IT FOR THE LAST MINUTE. It’s impossible, to say the least.

Last but certainly not least, you have to change your attitude towards school if you want to pass grad-level classes. Specifically, at my school, I have to keep at least a 3.0 GPA (in other words, a B) in order to graduate. My GPA right now is a 3.3, which honestly can change with just a simple bad grade in one course. The pressure that comes with exceeding in grad school literally wears you out, and if you don’t have tough skin to handle the ups and downs of grad school, then grad school isn’t the place for you.

It’s the honest truth.

Of course, grad school isn’t just this horrible place of negativity and anxiety. If anything, grad school has made me into a better writer and has been teaching me the reality of what it takes to be respected in academia. In the near future, I’ll be writing a post about the writing/rhetoric composition side of writing I learn in grad school that I never knew even existed; but that’s beside the point. As a grad student, you are granted this freedom that you don’t get as an undergrad. In grad school, you are allowed to have your own ideas and explore all these different things without having your professors tell you you’re off-topic or some shit (of course, some professors are just naturally one-sided). As a grad student, there is this certain respect you get from your peers that you don’t necessarily get from undergrad because the classes are just overly crowded on the undergrad level. You also get to connect with professors better when you’re on the grad-level (honestly, Professor Carlo has been such an inspiration for me while on this grad school journey, so thank you for making me a better writer).

All in all, grad school is a risk that you should take if you believe that you can do it. It’s okay if you know deep down inside you can’t handle it; it’s not for everyone. I didn’t know that it was essentially for me, and I’m still trying to cope with the new surroundings and identity being a grad student. Yes, at times I feel like the stress and anxiety do take over me, but personally, I feel like grad school has made me grow into myself and to perfect my craft as a writer.

So, if you’re thinking about grad school, I say go for it. There’s nothing wrong furthering your education. If you’re not thinking about grad school, don’t sweat it. Don’t do it because you have to, do it because you want to.

-Liz (:

Self-Appreciation Saturdays

SAS: My Social Anxiety Story. (4/22/17)

Over the years, I’ve realized just how bad my shyness can be, especially at social events and gatherings. I always wondered why it scared me whenever I was invited to a party, and why I decided to never go. I’ve always enjoyed having a good time, so why did I never allow myself to by just saying yes to the invitations I get? I realized that as I got older, the anxiety got worse, and when I tried to take control of it one time, I realized that this wasn’t just a little episode of anxiety, but that I have some sort of social anxiety.

When I was younger, I was extremely outgoing. I had tons of friends in my neighborhood, school, and going to parties and to friend’s houses weren’t so nerve-wracking. I would classify myself as a leader when I was younger; I never followed anyone and I was always fearless to do the things that no one else wanted to do. I guess after I graduated middle school and moved on to a school in a neighborhood that none of my friends lived in, I became very timid and shy. Even though my high-school experience didn’t make me introverted since I had tons of friends in high-school, the fact that I felt like I couldn’t fit into most groups made me fall into the category of “quiet, smart people”.

The earliest memory I have of feeling anxious at a social gathering was when I was invited to a friend’s “Sweet 15” back in 2009. I went with a couple of my guy friends from middle school, and when I got to the party and they started to talk and dance with the other girls there, I was left at the table by myself. I left at midnight, crying because none of my friends were there hanging out with me, and I felt super awkward being there. After that whole thing happened, I declined Sweet 16 invitations and decided that my best bet was to stay home and be comfortable in my own setting.

When I graduated high school and started college, I realized that because the school was so big and filled with thousands of people, I knew it was impossible to be “popular”. It was also going to be impossible to make friends and actually keep them because most of these people lived in Staten Island, and me in Brooklyn. For four years, my only friend was Obie, my high-school best friend since 2009. I didn’t have a group of college friends until I was in my senior year of college when I decided to take acting classes for my drama minor requirements.

When I made this group of friends in acting, I was very anxious in interacting with them outside the classroom setting. The first time my friend, Tori, drove me home after class, I was definitely a different person than the one I was in that classroom. Tori was like my other half in that class, and everyone knew it. But something changed in me once we both left that classroom; I was nervous, I was quiet, I was wondrously looking around to keep myself from focusing in on the situation itself. I remember sharing this during a “human behavior” session in Acting the following class, and she admitted that she saw that happening to me. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

Because I was determined to keep this new group of friends, I wanted to put myself out there more. Not only did I have this new-found group of friends, but my best friend is Obie, aka “Mr. Social Butterfly”. No matter what day it is, he constantly has someone to hang out with because he’s just so sociable and outgoing. He’s been that way since as long as I’ve known him, and I realized that if I wanted to be a part of his friend circle and interact with everyone in it like a normal fucking human being, that I needed to fight this battle I have with social anxiety. For years, Obie has known my struggle with my social anxiety, and I appreciate that he doesn’t try to put me into situations where it could be overwhelming. At the time though, I felt left out in that part of his life. I wanted to be cordial and on a talking basis with his friends and family, I wanted to be invited to his gatherings or to the bar whenever he went with his friends; I just wanted to feel like I was able to fit in with him and his friend group. After the many failed attempts in trying to be sociable with the people who came over to his place while I was there, I told him I wanted to be formally invited to his 24th birthday party. He warned me, and after not listening to him, I realized I should’ve.

Over the years, Obie has cut down his “turn-ups” and parties a lot, but the only big bash he really throws his one for his birthday. His birthday is usually during the “unofficial start of the summer” weekend, aka Memorial Day weekend. Of course, he was throwing another party at his house, and I finally wanted to be a part of his birthday celebration. We went back and forth on whether or not it was going to be okay for me to go, yet I told him I needed to do this for myself. So, I went.

That Saturday night, I got to his place two hours before the party was supposed to start. (Red Flag #1: people who tend to show signs of anxiety usually make it their mission to be one of the first people at a social gathering so that they don’t walk into something that’s already crowded.) When I got there, I was one of 6 other people there, and these other six people were friends and family that I see whenever I’m at his place, so I felt comfortable. As more people came and the more crowded his apartment was getting, I was getting a little anxious. From the time I got there to the time I left at midnight, I stayed in one spot of the entirety of the night. (Red flag #2: people who tend to show signs of anxiety usually stay in one particular spot at social gatherings, making it hard for them to mingle and socialize with other people, and even feeling anxious to get up from their spot to use the bathroom because you’re afraid someone is going to look at you when you do get up.) The people who I was first there with were now all over the apartment talking to people, playing Uno (which I wanted to join in but was too scared to get up which is Red flag #3: people who show signs of anxiety don’t create opportunities to join into something, they wait until someone who is doing the activity ask them if they want to join, which in that case you say yes.) Of course, no one asked me to play, and I sat in my spot, just watching those around me, feeling awkward.

Every once and awhile, Obie came to ask me how I was doing, and when it became too transparent on my face to continue saying I was fine, I told him “I feel weird.” In his attempts to keep me company and to help me feel better, I knew he couldn’t cater to me all night; it was his birthday and his party and those who came to his party wanted to see him. He had to be the host that night, not my only friend at the party. After awhile, there was no room to get by and my anxiety began to skyrocket. By 11 o’clock, I was ready for my father to come and pick me up because I started to get really hot in the face and every person that came up to try to talk to me, I responded in jibberish. I was a mess, to put it kindly, and when my father finally texted me that he was downstairs of Obie’s building, I pulled Obie to the side and told him I was leaving.

In my attempt to remain calm and content, Obie saw right through me. He knew that something was wrong, and after trying to play it off all night, I finally told him that I was having a really bad anxiety attack. I saw him through blurry, panicky eyes. I was hot, I couldn’t breathe, and I don’t remember if I actually heard anyone or anything around me besides Obie. He handed me a glass of water and walked me downstairs. He hugged me bye and I cried all the way home.

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Most people will never understand the severity of social anxiety, and that’s just a straight up fact. Every now and then, anxiety can go away and be prevented, but it takes more than “just start talking to people” or “just be yourself, silly.” It’s when you feel stuck in your seat and no matter how badly you need to use the bathroom, you hold it in because you don’t want anyone to see you get up. It’s when you rather let someone else answer the question that a professor asks because you’re too afraid of answering and being told that it’s wrong. It’s the awkward jibberish that comes out of your mouth when trying to socialize with people and then feel embarrassed when you sound dumb because your mind is too nervous to function right. It’s when you unintentionally make yourself the oddball in a group of people but at the same time screaming in your head “please talk to me first!”

It’s all these things and more, and it’s something that people will write off as being rude or “not being friendly”. Some of my old friends don’t even talk to me anymore because they think that I don’t care about them anymore because I never reach out when really, being the first to text someone scares the shit out of me because I’m afraid of annoying them. The truth of the matter is is that’s the last thing I’m trying to do.

I usually keep my anxiety to myself because it’s definitely one of those things that people will easily write off as being weak because everyone has anxiety in one way or another. I also keep it to myself because no matter how bad I’m feeling, I always feel like my little episodes of anxiety bother people when I express them. The fact of the matter is that yeah, I tend to make the littlest things and think about them all damn day, not realizing that it wasn’t that big, to begin with.

I don’t know.

I guess I’m just trying to be okay with myself and sometimes, it’s just not enough.

 -Liz. (:
Self-Appreciation Saturdays

Self-Appreciation Saturday. (4/15/17)

I hope everyone who is currently on Spring Break is having a lovely week off from school or work or whatever you are on vacation for; I definitely needed this time off to get all the week that I needed to get done GET DONE before the semester ends in a month. Again, this is what my Spring Break has been like for the last two years: just working on school stuff at home.

But now that we all had our week off and we all return to reality on Tuesday, it could be hard to transition from “lazy, unproductive self” to “did I forget to breathe during my long day of work?” self. We all got a taste of relaxation and days of sleeping in, and now we all have the Spring Break blues. 

So, how do you get rid of them before the break is actually over?

Continue reading “Self-Appreciation Saturday. (4/15/17)”

TNTH Related Stuff

Tomorrow’s the day!

Hey, TNTH followers and TNTH readers!

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For the past week, I’ve been reminding everyone on my social media accounts that the live-streams for TNTH will begin TOMORROW, April 8th! They will all start at 12:55pm EST (so if you’re not from America or on the East Coast, check your time settings and see when that is for you).

Make sure that if you will like to be a part of these live-streams this next week that you are FOLLOWING ME ON INSTAGRAM! It isn’t public for many reasons, do you will need to request to follow me and I’ll accept!

Thank you guys for following and supporting TNTH! Look out for more updates on new content and because planning for the summer content of TNTH has commenced!

I will be explaining a new topic that will be coming to TNTH in the near future, so I’m excited to share that with you all as well.

See you guys tomorrow! 😀

-Liz (:

Topic Tuesdays: Raw & Personal

Why “Find Our Girls” is So Important.

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There are teenage girls, specifically black and latina teenage girls, who are going missing in Washington D.C. These missing reports are linked to the ongoing issue of human and sex trafficking. These girls who go missing are most likely being sold. Human beings are being sold as sex slaves. These young girls who still have so much life to live are being SOLD AS SEX SLAVES.

Why is there little to no media coverage on it?

Why do women get the short end of the stick when they’re in danger? Why does a social media platform such as Twitter help find a girl named Kennedi who has once been kidnapped a few weeks ago in Baltimore, but not when the missing person report is initially made? Why is social media the only place out there right now concerned about these missing girls?

Don’t you guys realized these are daughters of mothers, sisters of sisters, nieces of aunts, friends of friends. These girls are not just objects that aren’t real just because you can’t feel them yourself. What would you want to do if this was someone you knew?

In any given circumstance, a disappearance of a girl never seemed to be important to media unless she was a white girl. Think back at all the famous kidnapping cases you can think of: Elizabeth Smart, Amanda Berry, Michelle Knight, Jaycee Dugard. They are notably all white teenage girls. Why don’t Black & Latina women get the coverage that they deserve?

The reality of it is that “things like this happen all the time to young women”. You know, because we love getting manipulated, raped, kidnapped, killed, and all the other possible things society thinks we love!

You don’t know how real it is until it hits you.

Last night while coming home from school, I got off at my usual bus stop to wait for another bus that takes me straight home. Usually, there are other people waiting for the same bus as me and we all carry on with our lives once the bus arrives. Note: the buses run every 30 minutes, so I’m usually left waiting for 30 minutes for a bus, or I end up getting in on time. Yesterday, the bus was 10 minutes away from the bus stop I was at.

When I got off the bus, I notice this man standing alone by himself at the bus stop. I usually never stand too close to people on bus stop because I respect personal space. Anyway, I stand a good 10 feet away from this man, until I see him turn in my direction, facing me. Usually, when people do that they are trying to ask for directions – so I took my headphones to hear what he had to say. Initially, I couldn’t tell if he knew any English until I heard him actually speak English, but he was slurring his words like crazy. Oh man, he’s drunk, isn’t he? I told myself as I was trying to comprehend what the hell he was trying to say. Once I actually understood what he was trying to say, I gave him the directions and proceeded on my night. Every time he tried talking to me, he got closer to me, asking me the same question over and over in a very particular way; every bus that came by he didn’t go on. He started to talk to me even louder but in a more aggressive tone as I try to mind my own business and pay no mind to him. By the time he was close enough to me so that I was able to smell the alcohol on him, I started to feel my gut telling me to do something.

I was in this constant thought of what I should do next: If I leave to go to another bus stop 5 blocks away I might miss the bus but if I stay here any longer he might get on the bus with me and I don’t want that happening– I honestly didn’t know what to do. I sent Obie an S.O.S text to call me immediately so that at least I have someone on the other end of the conversation. So I’m just trying to have a conversation with him, and this man gets even closer; he’s about a foot away from me now and he’s now looking at me with this certain look. He just kept staring at me with his aggressive, glossy look and talking under his breath, nodding his head at me and now I’m at a loss for words; I’m tensing up and this man can see it. Obie is trying to guide me out of it, and sooner or later, I say to Obie, “Hey, where are you?” Clearly, Obie is confused as fuck, not knowing what’s going on, and I just kept saying “Where are you? I’m about to meet up with you.”  Eventually, he caught on and when I was turning the corner to walk away from the bus stop, I finally told Obie that I got out of there and I was walking to a different bus stop. After what felt like forever, I got home and immediately just started crying.

The fact of the matter is, anything could’ve happened. He could’ve been aggressive to the point he pulled out a knife. He could’ve threatened me. He could’ve followed me when I walked away. Life just happens in unfortunate ways, and things could have gotten worse.

God forbid if I became just another statistic that no one spoke about.

I relate this to what’s happening in D.C. because situations like that aren’t so blatantly out there now, but they still happen all the time to young girls and women. They are in fake job offerings, drive-bys, they are in people who simply need help with directions. And nobody is taking it as seriously as it should be because “things like that happen every single day”.

Yeah, young girls getting kidnapped happen every single day. Young girls getting sexually assaulted happen every single day. Young girls running away or disappear happens every single day. BUT NO ONE IS DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT. 

Instead, hashtags are being made in order for top notch news platforms notice it and put it in their 10 o’clock news slot. Twitter and Facebook (as bad as social media can be for a person at times), remind everyone each and every day that these girls are still missing and are not backing down to help find them and bring them home. Instead, many women and young girls who’ve been sexually assaulted or harassed still remain silent because they know nobody cares to do them any justice. (Nah, instead people think we cry out “rape!” for the attention and want to humiliate ourselves.) Instead, many young girls and women end up dead within 72 hours because there’s simply no more we can do. Instead, we are put in the back-burner behind Kardashian/Jenner gossip, Donald Trump nonsense, and what new iPhone is coming out next.

There’s just simply no time for the safety of our girls, huh?

If only we mattered more. If only we “knew better.”

-Liz (:

Topic Tuesdays: Raw & Personal

Being a “White-Hispanic” in Today’s Society.

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My skin is white, but half my blood is Latina.

The lack of knowing and speaking the language makes me “less” of a Latina. The lack of complete knowledge and embrace of my culture makes me “less” of a Latina. My skin, my voice, my style, makes me “less” of a Latina.

Society sometimes forgets that I am half Puerto Rican because I am not “Latina” enough, and because of that, people tend to classify me as being the part of the group of white people who are internally racist and arrogant without even knowing it because of their whiteness. You know, those “reverse racism exists, all lives matter, I don’t see color, I see humans” type of whiteness?

That part of whiteness is whiteness that I even I say white people are stupid as hell.

I will admit that because I am half white, I do have “white privilege” embedded in me. I’ve had friends in the past, of different ethnicity and race, in light of the Trayvon Martin case, tell me they feel safer around me because “they wouldn’t be suspicious and shoot down and kill a white girl.”

It saddens me to think that the beautifully diverse people I call my friends are targets in today’s society, but people will assume I don’t think like that because to the outside world, I am just “white.”

Continue reading “Being a “White-Hispanic” in Today’s Society.”