I grew up with a single mother. My father left us when I was two and after I turned four I never saw him on a regular basis. He made many promises and never kept them. My brothers were old enough to understand when he was lying and exaggerating the truth, I still had loads of faith in my father. But after time I became immensely jaded. Now I rarely reach out to people and I never take anyone’s word. I try to be nice, but I’m always afraid of being hurt in the long run.

   In my history class, the Islamic world from Muhammad to 1800, we’ve had a lot of reading assignments that are based in the time of Muhammad and his prophecies. Many people just accept his word. and the strange occurrences that happened to him. People had complete faith because they believed in humanity. It got me thinking.

   Not only am I jaded, all of humanity is.

   Time has changed, and so have customs. Trust issues and skepticism are the most common. This is why I like other cultures, more primitive earthy cultures.

   The end of Christmas break is coming in hard and fast. Only a week left and I haven’t done anything productive at all. I was sick the first week, perma-high the next, drunk the third, and here we stand. I didn’t even finish the scarf I was knitting for my friend’s Christmas present, and her visit has long passed.

   I have been trying not to let my brain wonder too much this break, free time causes anxiety for me. I tend to over think everything even things that have never nor will ever happen. Hence the anxiety. I tend to always dwell on the far future, where I’ll be in my career, how my little sister will see me when she graduates high school [that’s still ten years off, I won’t be 30 when she graduates now because my little genius skipped a grade], if I’ll get the internship to the Ute reservation, if I’ll get the internship to Kenya, how many years will it take to graduate, where I would be if I wasn’t in Colorado.

   A girl I worked with this summer and my older sister both suffer from what I like to call “Getting the fuck out of Colorado” disorder. I’ve loved living in Colorado my whole life, I think it’s a beautiful state. But lots of other people who’ve lived here there whole lives can’t stand being here one second longer. For a long time I didn’t understand it. Hannah always babbled about living in all these other states, and doing all these other things and just getting out of Colorado. I always planned to stay here forever. Even back when I wanted to be a teacher I wanted to teach at my old elementary school. I never wanted to leave. After writing a letter talking about my Africa internship and career goals I realized I suffer from a less severe “Getting the fuck out of Colorado” disorder. In all these fantasies I have dreamt up in my head, I’m far from Colorado. I’ve lived here my whole life but every time I imagine my future, I’m not in Colorado.

   After such an uneventful break, and such a shitty semester, I can only hope that the pieces will start falling into place and just like all of my plans I will be where I want to be when I want to be.

   At the end of this summer I began packing all of the things in my room to get it up and out of the way. My mother had the reputation of changing all rooms, after the children move out, into storage. I didn’t want my things to disappear in the mess of fabric. I found a large box of stuff from my old and many Girl Scout years. One of the things in the box being a large binder with every paperwork I filled out for every badge I earned. One specifically surprised me, each answer had to deal with math or hockey. I always dreamed of playing in the WNHL (‘cause they would have that when I was 18, was my excuse), but I hate math now.

   I took a test for test anxiety here at college. They found out I have an anxiety for mathematics. I used to love math, what happened? Aesoph happened. Not the mind behind the fables told to small children, but the wobbling bitch of a seventh grade math teacher. She taught me that whatever I did was wrong. I may have got the right answer but I didn’t follow the problem just right so I was wrong. I had to sit face forward in my desk, and not the sideways way I had become accustomed to after a tailbone injury. Any action I did that wasn’t notes, or class work I was trying to disrupt her class. The first time I ever received detention was from her. I by no means excelled, but I wasn’t an idiot. I could be taught a formula or solution and I had it down. I was one of the few students to take algebra in middle school. Then accelerated math classes in high school. But then Wynn happened. She did not show bias to her students like Aesoph, but she was a tough love teacher. She taught that you should get the method and know whenever to apply it, no matter how obscure the problem seemed to be. Kids were forced to go to the board and when the problems were wrong it was pointed out to the entire class and no help was given for correction. I hated being put on the spot, and having problems thrown from left field simply at the teachers whim.

   Psychology taught me that students may struggle in subjects but it is more likely that a bad experience causes them to subconsciously fail. I apparently used to love math. But now I am held back from my studies because it is my most faulted subject. I am currently barely passing the lowest math class offered at my university because after three attempts at the placement test that was the highest class I was able to place into. It does nothing but give me elective credit, and if I fail places me as a “sophomore” after taking a summer course and entering into my third year of college.

   To not so eloquently put it, I fucking hate math!!!!

   I haven’t posted in a long time, and I think it’s about time I start again. Tumblr has changed from when I first started posting, and that’s what drew me away. I don’t care if I lose or gain followers, I still need a place to type out my frustrations. So here we go…

   I last left you in the heat of my freshman year of college, I’m now a “fully aged sophomore man” and obviously still in love with 80’s movies. I moved out of the dorms and into my own townhouse with two friends on the edge of Old Town. The friendships and relationships I created last year did not fare well over the summer months. I lost all but a few, and with my shy demeanor have not gained any new ones. Since last time I spent a summer tucked away for reality in the high mountains of Boulder teaching kids how to swim and kayak, and I finally declared my anthropology major.

   This summer helped me decided what I truly want in life, and I’ve honestly became a better person. But I’ve also become a more shut in, distracted, and alone person suffering into further depths of my disorder. Even right now I am procrastinating my final paper for the only class I had in watershed this semester.

   I used to complain a lot about having trust issues and a huge fear of commitment. I still do, but I have passed on the notion of needing to be in a relationship. With those fears I have realized I hate relationships. I like that I am free to be on my way without explanation of my actions to anyone. I’m told I’m just a cynic about the situation and take a very pessimistic view to the whole situation, I have yet to be proven wrong.

   Recently I’ve had thoughts about going back on my medication. It’s been tougher to get through days, and living off campus makes it far easier to stay in and do nothing but sleep. It’s become easier for me to skip class and miss assignments. I like my education, but I’m lacking all ambition to even move at times.

   I finally got my mermaid scale tattoo, a long awaited and much needed relief at this moment. The tattoo has helped me channel my passion, and the painful process has helped me alleviate some stress. I am a fish out of water, and once I get my head in the right place my degree and career will reflect that as well.

   There is an internship I found that will take me to work with water resources in Africa. I will be applying and I will hopefully be in Africa in the next few summers. I learned this summer that that is what I want to do. I believe that if I can be helping people, and thinking about others I won’t have time to be wallowing in my own disorder and worrying about my own life.

   And if I don’t pass this watershed class I won’t ever be able to get there. So until next time…

          For the second time in less than a year plans to see my grandmother have fallen through. I haven’t seen her since I was 5 and she’s not in the best health. I don’t know if the next time I see her will be the last, and I can’t even see her.

         The relationship I entered into in November is still going as planned, but the stronger feelings I grow the more I’m going to get hurt in the long run and I’d much rather be in udder pain maybe a year or two from now then not be with him.

          I lack all motivation for school because I simply hate one subject and am no good at it. I gone basically laterally in my studies, and I tell everyone school is going far better than I expected. It’s actually going worse.

          I love my job, but right now I’d much rather work than go to class because I don’t enjoy my schedule this semester and money is more important right now.

          I left many friends when I moved for school and I found out this weekend it was harder to leave one of them than I had ever thought. I missed her more than I realized, and soon she’ll be gone (moving to another state) and I won’t be able to see her as much.

          I realized in recent times that I suck at making friends because I am so much better off on my own. I was fucked over as a little kid that I know how to be a loner, and that’s all I know. But society has fucked me over to want long last friendships. I don’t know how to do both.

          I know what I want to do with my life, but I have no idea how I’m getting there.

My name is Phylicia Kecskes. I was born May 13th, 1992. I stand a mere 5’3”. I’m a second generation American being half Hungarian, a quarter Irish, and the rest is mutt. I am a born and raised Coloradoan, with no greater love than for the mountains and the thin air at high elevations. I am very proud of my heritage and my background. I was raised by a single mom and I have two older brothers. My mother raised me to be an individual, caring, polite, and respectable. My brother’s taught me to be tough, defend myself, and not “take shit from nobody”. I grew up much faster than the kid’s around me due to struggles with a divorcing family, older siblings, and spending a chuck of my childhood in the Denver Children’s Hospital with a sick older brother. I can support myself and sometimes feel more comfortable alone than in a group of people. I make friends slow, but I keep them long. I am shy, and self-conscious. I think that everywhere I go there are judging eyes, and I put up a big fake front to confuse them. I act very confident, but inside I am not. I do drink, and at times I’ve been afraid I’d become an alcoholic. I have a very high tolerance for liquor, and that has caused many problems. I do smoke weed, but I try to limit my in take. I have trust and commitment issues, and I am hoping one day I’ll find a guy who understands that and helps me get over it. In relationships I am the best friend type of lover. I hate being clinging and PDA is weird. I much prefer a day on the couch playing video games over a fancy restaurant, guys don’t seem to understand that. I hope, like most, one day to be married and have kids. Though I have trust issues I give my trust away fast, and I’ve learned the hard way that it’s a bad idea, I still do it. I have a big, loud mouth that has gotten me into trouble more than once. I am more aggressive than most, and I will fight if necessary. When necessary is subjective. I’m more down to earth, and would prefer a life full of happiness, than full of money. I’ve realized in recent time that I am not afraid of death, but afraid that I will leave nothing behind when I die. I hope to have a legacy, and if it’s nothing more than “she was a wonderful person” I’ll still be satisfied. I’m afraid of aging, because in my family it doesn’t go well. I hope to never have to be in assisted living, I would always like to support myself.

This is me, take it or leave it. I am who I am.

Filed out and submitted my housing application today. I will now be living in my own place, with two wonderful roommates, Anna and Valarie. Should make for a fun year. : ]

makes me feel stupid. And makes me second guess my major only because I haven’t done half the freshman preqs because I don’t qualify.

Why do I always fell like I’m messing things up, and being judge for everything I do and every reaction I have to situations.

Sucks.