Depression.

Hey, hi, hello. It's been a while. But I'm back. And in a writing mood. So here it goes.

*takes deep breath*: Hi, I'm Jasmine, and I have mild to moderate depression.

*chorus of voices*: Hi Jasmine.

This last year or so I've battled with anxiety and depression. In college it was mostly anxiety, and mostly related to social anxiety, so meeting new people, going to unfamiliar social events, that sort of thing. But as graduation came up, and the daunting and terrifying idea of no longer being in school and having to figure out my life as an "adult" loomed, something changed in my mindset.

Depression is weird. Sometimes I forget I have it. But most of the time, it is a constant shadow in the back of my mind. Sometimes the shadow is darker and heavier than other times. Lately, it's like Karl the Fog and rolls in at the end of the day, makes things hazy without clouding them too much. I never noticed it before, so now that it is such a constant, it's hard to remember what it was like before. I know there was a time where I wasn't afraid of everything, wasn't so timid to do new things, wasn't so quick to anger or quick to cry or quick to doubt myself.

I guess it seems so weird because your brain tells you one thing while making you feel another. It's like a disconnect between reason and the deep sense of self, somewhere in you. When I'm in a bout of depression, it's like a weight is on my shoulders. I can still laugh, still talk to people, be polite, enjoy being with family or doing things I like. But it doesn't seem to touch anything in my head. It doesn't make me feel, even though I know it should.

I can't even really describe it, because I don't really understand it. When I think about it pragmatically, there's no reason to feel these things. But it doesn't matter. It's infuriating to not have control over yourself. It's frustrating. And it makes me sad that I can't remember what it felt like before.

On November 1st, I have my first depression class that teaches people how to cope and work with depression (and anxiety). And while I'm doing much better now than I was a month ago, due to figuring out ways to do things that I enjoy, I have a long way to go before every second thought I have is "I should feel happier about this, more excited about that, this isn't how I would've reacted before." And maybe it's because I've changed as a person, grown up or something. But it feels more like a regression than progression. But, hopefully, I'll continue to find things that bring me joy, that helps fend off Karl (sorry Karl), and eventually, even if I can't go back to before, I'll learn to accept and work with the now.

Anyway, I just wanted to get this off my chest. I don't think many people know about this part of my life. To be honest, it's fairly new, and a lot of people who knew me would have no reason or way to know. I've suffered with self esteem issues and such all my life, but kept it inside. But I think it's important to get it out there, because I feel like I'm known one way to the public but feel another.

If the way you feel inside is in complete disconnect from the person other people see, even those you love, it doesn't make your feelings any less valid. It took me a long time to get there.

Anyway, here's a list of things I've found to help me feel better when I'm feeling down.

1. Petting my cat 

2. Writing and drawing in my bullet journal

3. Watching videos of calligraphy or cooking on YouTube.

4. Listening to podcasts while driving. 

5. Writing creatively on my blogs or working on my stories.

6. Watching movies

7. Crying in the shower. 

8. Posting pictures of Europe on Instagram.

9. Writing one positive thing every day.

10. Taking lots of deep breaths and knowing it will be okay, even if it doesn't feel like it. 

Universal Studios Hollywood and Disneyland | 2016

Look at this face full of joy and magic and slight nausea after going on The Forbidden Journey.

And then we went to the Happiest Place on Earth!

I tried to catch some moments that aren't always documented in Disneyland. Like these cute little ducklings hanging out near the entrance to Adventure Land.

It's surprising how much green is actually all around Disney, like this little oasis across from the castle.

My favorite roller coaster and the ride that helped me conquer my fear of roller coasters in high school! It's the music that does it. :)

While Cars is not my favorite Pixar movie (though I like it a lot), Carsland is freaking gorgeous, especially when you are sitting in the shade and the weather fits the landscape (it was 2 days before the 100˚+ heatwave in LA).

My mom decided to wait for fireworks hours and hours in advance, which scored us some great seats.

Backstory: My favorite thing in Disneyland since I was a wee child (like, 5) was story time in the castle with Cinderella and her assistant, Todd, and churros. My parents would give me $5 a day to spend however I wanted and I would always spend it on churros.

 I wanted to take a picture with the castle and my beloved churro, but this lady was ruining my shot. That is, until I figured out a way to showcase the real highlight of Disneyland.

Overall it was a wonderful trip. I always love watching little kids and their parents when it's their first time in Disneyland. The happiness and the wonder makes me so happy, and the work that Disney does to make everyone's day magical warms my heart every time. And the Disneyland Forever fireworks! UGH. :')

I hope that everyone gets the chance to visit Disneyland someday. It's a truly magical place. 

France: Finesse | #Europe2015

Paris was a test of survival. 

From the moment we got off the plane late at night and every form of public transit was closed or under constructions, we had reached the first part of our trip that wasn't conforming to our organization and preparedness. We ended up paying for a taxi to our hostel, madly googling on slow airport wifi the proper manners and rules in accordance to a French Taxi. He was very nice though, even being so considerate as to change his classical music to an English pop station. Appreciated but unnecessary. We splurged on a nice hostel close to the heart of Paris, knowing that by the end of our adventure, we would be ready for a four person room with our own bathroom. And it was heavenly. 

We woke the next morning to take a nice stroll down the canals right outside our hostel. The only way I can describe the feel was 'Parisian'. No one was walking around in berets with baguettes yet the canals, the buildings, the layout of the streets - even the ducks - somehow felt distinctly French.

 The next day was devoted to museums. I had been warned over and over again how vast and time consuming the Louvre could be and we planned to tackle both it and the Musee d'Orsay in one day. Honestly, one of my favorite parts of Paris are probably the museums. The buildings themselves were a piece of art, meant to show off the things inside as well as be a signal to anyone walking by, as if to say, "There is important stuff in here. It's pretty. It's cool. Come in and see."

The Louvre was absolutely amazing. It's overwhelming how much stuff there is. We all split up to look at different things, knowing we could only see so much in our allotted four hours and so Janna and I ended up wandering through almost all the exhibits on the first three floors. As time ticked down, Janna made it her "life's goal" to try and find pivotal pieces of art she had always planned to see, the Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa. We wove through exhibit after exhibit, getting lost and distracted by Mesopotamian statues and Babylonian artifacts. It began to feel like a real life National Treasure or DaVinci Code. We had a map but all the information cards were in French, so we were guessing by color and the few signs that were in English. It was exciting and exhilarating and fun. It is one of the fondest memories I have of our whole trip.

 I basically made my friends go into the catacombs with me. I was expecting to be terrified, and I was, at first. But there is a calmness down there, a very deep sense of respect and peace and quiet. The only time my heart truly raced was when an attendant sitting in a dark corner asked us where we were from and told us facts about the catacombs, using his flashlight to show us a nameless skull that had a bullet hole, and the feet of bones that lay behind the initial walls of bones that lined the catacombs. 

I also made my friends go to Père Lachaise Cemetery and find Oscar Wilde's grave. His words and his wit, his struggles and perseverance is fascinating and beautiful. His grave has a plexiglass wall around it, since it's tradition to leave a lipstick kiss there. Behind it, though, someone managed to slip the note above inside. There was just something about someone thinking about him, thinking about his struggles, and thought "He would appreciate this," that touched me. As busy and overwhelming as Paris was, it was a revelation to think that among million plus graves, there was this incredibly personal, yet anonymous, message. 

We took the Metro all around Paris, from the Notre Dame Cathedral, then to the catacombs, then the Eiffel Tower, and then Arc de Triomphe. It was a test of patience, and perseverance, and buying endless amounts of Metro tickets at a given time. It was crowded and a little confusing. But the thing I realized, even though we didn't have much time or money to get truly close enough to study any of these places, was how detailed everything was. There was this delicacy, this finesse to everything. I'd never realized how fragile the Eiffel Tower was, how it looked almost like filigree, or how much more there was to the Arc de Triomphe than just a large archway.

 The last day was spent in Versailles, where we arrive 30 minutes early to wait for 2 hours in line to get in. The Chateau was gorgeous, the finery and glamour apparent even in today's day and age. Unfortunately there were so many people it was hard to truly study and appreciate all the details and touches created so many years ago. As we ventured out into the gardens, just to get some fresh air and relieve some claustrophobia, it became clear where the true beauty and time went on the estate. There were so many fountains and gardens and there was such a structure to the nature, the gardens so pristine and organized, the fountains and the whole estate symmetrical and clean. 

Paris was a test of survival. 

There were far too many tourists around, making it hard to appreciate anything. We were on the last four days of a 21 day trip, and we were past the point of exhaustion. Everything was in French, the streets are winding, and it was hard to find anything despite signs and the map on my phone. There were public bathrooms in the middle of the street that clean themselves but hosing the entire interior down once you were done. I think many people like this aspect of Paris, the bustling and the business, the urgency and (sometimes) ostentatiousness. However, it was the quiet moments that really stayed with me, the morning walk down the canal, watching a woman take a video of ducklings, going to the bakery after a busy day and buying some bread and a cookie, feeling like a treasure hunter in the empty floors of the Louvre, walking around the removed gardens made for Marie Antoinette to escape the chaos of Versailles.

My feelings towards Paris seem to be indicative of the city. It's tough - it'll test you and help you grow. It'll teach you and challenge you. And it will do so while looking beautiful, while appearing deceivingly delicate and fine, while being incredibly steady and strong. It's a testament to Paris, I think, that I could feel so constricted and stressed, and yet still balk at it's beauty, it's fragility. So kudos, Paris. Let me know when there are less people in you, and I'll come visit again.

Italy: Relax | #Europe2015

If there was one word I would use to describe Venice, it's relaxation. While the streets of Venice were pretty crowded, we stayed at a hostel on a neighboring island. The whole vibe was incredibly calming - the sway of the water taxi we took from the airport to our hostel, the sky that was like a watercolor of blues, pinks, and purples, the dampness in the air. Outside the window of our room, we could see St. Mark's Square, or Piazza San Marco, from across the water. We wandered the length of the island in light rain, the weather still warm, and ate some pizza and gelato before the thunder and lighting hit. After four countries and four cities, Venice was a dream. 

We wandered around the city after taking a water taxi from our hostel. We wove up and down and through the streets, seeing what Venice had to offer. I was entranced by how fully the buildings had become one with the water, the doorways and steps that were half sunken, the streets that would just suddenly end with steps leading into the canals. We'd stop and get fresh fruit every so often, before winding down another street. We got lost a few times, ended up where we began, but we didn't mind.

Venice was a paradox. It's small but feels huge as you're wandering through the maze-like streets. It has moments of such simplicity, like the Peggy Guggenheim museum, and moments of such complexity, like the details on the many churches and in St. Mark's Square. It's prepared to calm you as quickly as it tries to overwhelm you. 

Venice had such a unique feel to me. Despite the streets and plaza being filled with tourists, there was such a intimacy throughout the city. Everywhere there were touches of the fact that people lived there, probably grew up there, called it home. Each building, packed so tightly together, leaning against one another and slowly sinking into the sea, had its own character. 

Venice for me just emanated this feeling of celebration and festiveness, a ferventness, while also somehow telling people to slow down, take a break, grab a cup of gelato, sit as the water laps against the steps, lift your face towards the sky, and feel the sun on your skin.