SIFE Ya Later!

The Drake SIFE team is very much like a family. I mean that almost literally. We get along very well (almost too well at times) and we fight constantly. It's like we have grown up together our entire lives. It's just...interesting.

I was in charge of planning for our team training conference today. For the last week, I have been running around campus like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to get everything organized. These random items included filling out paperwork, filling out requests, obtaining driving forms, registering our team, finding a place to stay for Friday night, and getting a head-count (which changed daily). I didn't think it would be as hectic as it turned out to be, because I feel like I am an organized person, so things like planning events are second nature to me.

However, when the President of the organization is a Type B personality who tells you he doesn't care how things are done, then complains when you do your job, things get a little sticky. Let's just say, this week was very, very stressful for this girl.

Thank goodness this weekend training went without a hitch and we all made it there and back safely. One ironic thing we learned in the officer training session was appreciating others on our team. As I said before, our team is very close. In fact, we are "those people" who never take the training sessions seriously. We are too busy talking to one another or answering all of the questions the presenter asks. Pretty much, we are the team everyone else loves to hate.

With us being close, we tend to fight often. Like I said before, the President constantly got on my case while I was trying to do my job. Eryn finally told him off, which doesn't surprise me.

Anyway, we learned to appreciate every little thing each person in the team contributes. I think it's a great thing for our team to implement because we tend to make fun of one another, rather than build each other up. In fact, during our working lunch today, the President called me out in front of the team to thank me for my "hard work" planning the event. It was completely unexpected and I didn't deserve it, because I was doing my duties. However, I appreciated it because that was the first time he told me thank you for the entire thing. It felt good.

Overall, it was productive for our team to go. If nothing else, we were able to bond. Who doesn't love team bonding?

Zach, one guy who rode in the same vehicle as me, started saying words replacing "SIFE" with the actual word. For instance, he'd say, "SIFE ya later!" or "What the SIFE?!" It was quite entertaining. It may catch on.

Another side story to this weekend deals with our boxed lunches from today. At the end of the day, they set out the leftover lunches for us to take home if we wanted to. I grabbed one, along with the others in my vehicle, to have something to snack on during our ride back.

As we were leaving downtown Minneapolis, we saw a homeless woman holding up a sign. We sat a red light, staring at her and sharing what each of us normally do when we see homeless people. Instantly, Eryn blurted out, "Let's give her some of our food!"

I agreed and packed up my boxed lunch I picked up for the ride home. Others grabbed apples, bags of chips and sandwiches for her. We pulled up to her and dropped off all of our food for her. She flashed a huge smile and thanked us.

It made me feel good knowing that food went to a better place. She needed that food way more than any of us in the vehicle did. I wonder if she ate the sandwich and other food we gave her. I sure hope she did. It was clear to me that entire situation was controlled and planned by God. There's no way that was coincidence. 9 out of 10 times, I wouldn't have grabbed a boxed lunch, but decided to do that today. Turns out, it wasn't for me afterall. And that's totally okay. :)

Love and Marriage

Why is it that when someone tells me they "need to talk to me" or "need to discuss something with me" I automatically think the worst? If it's my boss, I assume I've done something wrong. If it's my boyfriend, I assume I've done something wrong. If it's a professor, I assume I've done something wrong. You get the idea?

I don't know where this fear of failure is coming from. I never used to think the worst, especially in situations like these. I used to think they had another project for me, or a surprise, or just a "good job." Not anymore.

I believe I am on edge because my life is all about the unknown right now. I am no different than any college student in this aspect. Most of us have to get jobs after we graduate or get into graduate school or complete internships or do something with our lives once we are done. Not to mention, we have to start taking care of our finances on a more extreme level and we have to decide who we are going to marry, where we are going to live, and what we want to do with the rest of our lives. No pressure.

I learned in Adolescence last semester that the ideal age to attend college is around 24, when most adults' brains have fully developed. Ironically enough, the brain is most vulnerable between the ages of 18 and 24, because the transition from adolescence to adulthood is a rough transition biologically. In other words, high school should last until we are 24 then we should begin the rest of our lives. Oh and marriage should be illegal until people reach the age of 24. Our brains would be mature enough to handle big decisions like the ones we are now making at the age of 20.

Of course that messes up anyone's life plan, especially when society doesn't allow us to loaf until we are 24. It just doesn't work. And personally, marriage sounds like so much more fun at 22 than 24. lol. That doesn't change much I guess.

At any rate, it's hard to make so many crucial decisions when we still have several years before our brains will fully develop. That is one reason why so many college students find a release in drinking, drugs, or even an addiction to food. If only our brains could be done growing when the rest of our bodies are done. That would make life easier.

At church, we are currently going through a series covering marriage and family. It is very interesting, mostly because I can't wait to have a family one day. Some of the things he talks about actually pertain to my life, as screwed us as my mind is right now. :)

One of the biggest things I took away from yesterday's service is that men deserve/crave respect. Not that women don't deserve it, but we don't crave it as much as, let's say, listening to us. It makes sense to me now why guys will tear up during an action movie but not during a chick flick. They see value in working hard and being respected by others, that when a guy accomplishes something great in a movie, they respect him. But they won't cry when a man and woman get engaged in a movie, then she dies of cancer a day before their wedding. Silly boys.

I can't wait until service this coming Sunday to learn more about what God's word says about raising a Christian family. :)

Love and Marriage

Why is it that when someone tells me they "need to talk to me" or "need to discuss something with me" I automatically think the worst? If it's my boss, I assume I've done something wrong. If it's my boyfriend, I assume I've done something wrong. If it's a professor, I assume I've done something wrong. You get the idea?

I don't know where this fear of failure is coming from. I never used to think the worst, especially in situations like these. I used to think they had another project for me, or a surprise, or just a "good job." Not anymore.

I believe I am on edge because my life is all about the unknown right now. I am no different than any college student in this aspect. Most of us have to get jobs after we graduate or get into graduate school or complete internships or do something with our lives once we are done. Not to mention, we have to start taking care of our finances on a more extreme level and we have to decide who we are going to marry, where we are going to live, and what we want to do with the rest of our lives. No pressure.

I learned in adolescence that the ideal age to attend college is around 24, when most adults' brains have fully developed. Ironically enough, the brain is most vulnerable between the ages of 18 and 24, because the transition from adolescence to adulthood is a rough transition biologically. In other words, high school should last until we are 24 then we should begin the rest of our lives. Oh and marriage should be illegal until people reach the age of 24. Our brains would be mature enough to handle big decisions like we are now making at the age of 20.

Of course that messes up anyone's life plan, especially when society doesn't allow us to loaf until we are 24. It just doesn't work. And personally, marriage sounds like so much more fun at 22 than 24. lol. That doesn't change much I guess.

At any rate, it's hard to make so many crucial decisions when we still have several years before our brains will fully develop. That is one reason why so many college students find a release in drinking, drugs, or even an addiction to food.

At church, we are currently going through a series covering marriage and family. It is very interesting, mostly because I can't wait to have a family one day. Some of the things he talks about actually pertain to my life, as screwed us as my mind is right now. :)

One of the biggest things I took away from yesterday's service is that men deserve/crave respect. Not that women don't deserve it, but we don't crave it as much as, let's say, listening to us. It makes sense to me now why guys will tear up during an action movie but not during a chick flick. They see value in working hard and being respected by others, that when a guy accomplishes something great in a movie, they respect him. But they won't cry when a man and woman get engaged in a movie, then she dies of cancer a day before their wedding. Silly boys.

I can't wait until service this coming Sunday to learn more about what God's word says about raising a Christian family. :)

Past, Present, Future

After class finished today, I assumed I would stay at home and do some homework. Or, at very least, plan out my day for Saturday and find various things to do around the house. Well, I was wrong on all accounts.

I found out Matt was also free tonight, so we decided to hang out at Saylorville Lake. There's a beach, boat dock, and various rocks to climb over and hurt yourself. Just a fun time all around. We found a large rock in the mass of rocks and staked our claim. We just sat there, enjoying the nice weather and the beautiful water in front of us. It was so peaceful, very much like something you see in the movies.

After it got dark, we decided to walk along the beach in the moonlight, while looking at the stars. Again, sounds like something else from the movies, but it really happened. :) We then goofed around, trying to jump and touch the Big Dipper. We knew if we jumped high enough, we'd finally reach it one day.

My entire night was something out of a romantic movie, but it is was even better. I cannot remember being this happy, this comfortable, this loved. Everyday with Matt feels like a daze that I never get out of. Since meeting him in May, I really feel like I have been in a dream. It's crazy to think that less than 4 months ago, we didn't even know each other existed. Well, he didn't know I existed. My fabulous stalking skills allowed me to know bits and pieces about him before we actually met.

And here we are today, thoroughly enjoying each other's company, talking about what is on our minds at that moment, and goofing around like children. I will never regret staying out too late with him, living life. That's right, I am actually enjoying life once again. I have tests coming up, training for SIFE and projects due in the next couple of weeks, but these no longer consume my life. I have someone in my life replacing all things I used before to consume my free time and distract me from the real world.

It's so nice to live in the moment, even if for only a couple moments. It makes me realize how boring and uptight I have been all of these years. There are definitely more important things in life than a 4.0, especially if I've already blown my chance at that 4.0.

Matt is a blessing in my life that I thank God for each and every day. I don't care about the future at this moment, when the present is so amazing.

I'll Cry if I Don't Want To

On the lengthy list of things about myself I wish I could change, being a "crier" definitely falls towards the top of that list. I find myself crying quite often, especially recently. I have cried at least once each day for the last 3 days straight for different reasons.

Here are situations when I find myself shedding a tear:

• When watching sad movies
• When watching happy movies
• When I get really angry
• When I hear an amazing song
• When compelled by the Holy Spirit during worship
• When watching a sad music video
• When I feel loved
• When I am too happy for words
• When I'm scared, especially when I am placed in a situation alone
• When I get frustrated
• When I disappoint others

These are just the ones I could recall within a couple of minutes. Trust me, this list could go on and on.

I found a section on WebMD.com which calls people who cry often, "criers." Wow, it's like a diagnosis. Crazy. There are sections for coping with crying and how to force yourself to stop when you are about to cry, like it is a rash or something.

It also mentions those who cry are more likely to be women who possess anxiety, empathy, or are extroverted. Well, as a self-proclaimed introvert who refuses to work in groups in classes unless it's absolutely necessary, I doubt it is the last one. So it dwindles down to my stressful nature, which is unlikely, or that I am empathetic. It's probably not my anxiety because I have only been stressed since college and I have always cried like a little girl for as long as I can remember.

That leaves the last reason of "empathy" as the demon that causes me to cry. Haha. Let's see here, I am the person who laughs at inappropriate times because I think it is funny when others get hurt. If that's not the opposite of empathy, I don't know what is. (I also realize this must change if I wish to become a successful Psychologist one day.)

Now, I must give myself some credit. I really do have a heart for small animals, babies, and those in need, among other groups of living things. Freshman year of college, all business students were forced to take a personality test to see where we would best fit in a business. You could be an entertainer, thinker, analyzer, or amiable. Of course, I scored amiable. What that means is that I am the one who should work in Human Resources because I somehow care about others. Go figure. Eryn got thinker, if that adds anything to this paragraph.

Long and pointless story short, I am known from different tests to be an amiable person. So I am going to say that is why I cry, especially when others are hurting. Now, I have yet to figure out why I cry when I get happy. It's weird, because when most people get happy, they smile, they laugh, they jump around. Not me. I get quiet, reserved, and I am often almost to the point of tears. I'm not sure why, but I do. For a self-proclaimed happy person, I would say most other people may not think that about me because I constantly seem like I am about to cry.

Chances are, I probably am about to cry. I think I have two states: I'm either crying or I'm on the verge of crying. It's a great quality to have if you want others to feel sorry for you. Just saying.

So, if you know me at all, you have most-likely heard, seen, caused, or wiped up my tears at one point in time. I apologize for that, but I also know it is a part of who I am. I guess you'll just have to deal with, because that's what I have to do as well.

Food is a Four-Letter Word

While on PostSecret this evening, I found a secret that I can relate to. The second one ever that I could actually say, "I could have written that!"

The first one I found was a couple of months ago that read: "Since becoming a psych major, all of my friends are secretly my experiments." Oh my goodness, this is so true. I apologize if this is how you are finding out about my experiment on you. Trust me, it will help someone else in the future.

The second one I found is very coincidental, at least in my mind. Just last Sunday, I shared my secret with Matt, though I didn't know whether the timing was right when I told him. In retrospect, I KNOW the timing was right. He needed to know.

Here's the secret I found:


The summer before my junior year in high school, I developed an eating disorder. Since then, my life and my relationship with food has not been the same. One thing I can say, without a doubt, is my relationship with Christ is stronger because of it. Well, it became stronger once I started to recover from it, at least.

I was in an unhappy place when the disorder began. In fact, it was kind of interesting. I was sick of being "chased" by a couple of guys that weren't good for me and I was determined to find "the one" at 16. I decided it was because I was ginormous why I didn't have a steady boyfriend, so I stopped eating. Well, sort of.

It started out with restricting calories, then it became more severe. I enjoyed going 10, 12 hours even without eating, because I liked the feeling of being hungry. It made me think, with every hunger pang, that fat was evaporating off my body. It gave me a feeling of control.

Then, when trying on clothes that fit perfectly just a month before, I felt even better. Jeans would fall off my body and shirts would swallow me. More importantly, people commented on my weight loss. I LOVED it.

However, on my 17th birthday, after suffering for over 6 months, I realized I needed help. My 17th birthday also fell on Thanksgiving that year. After eating probably 1000 calories that day, I felt terrible about myself. I just knew the slice of pecan pie would cause me to gain a pound and EVERYONE would think I was fat. EVERYONE.

After the meal, I went to the restroom to be alone and prayed that God would make sure the calories just disappeared. I didn't care what happened to me as long I didn't gain the weight. I promised Him I would never eat that much again, ever. I was so alone, yet so comfortable, knowing I had God. After my prayer, I realized something wasn't right with me. Why on Earth was I praying for something so selfish, so minute in the scheme of life?

I decided I needed help from that moment on, but didn't really know what to do. I slowly began to eat more, with the support of my best friend at the time, to slowly gain back weight. It took me until the end of the school year (about 5 months) to gain 7 or 8 pounds. I know that sounds crazy that I couldn't gain weight, but it's hard when your one enemy in life (food) is something you must face everyday.

Since then, I have gained a new appreciation for God's everlasting love. I realize I wasn't the most severe case of anorexia that ever existed, but I was a case. I know there is a reason God placed that burden in my life and that was to get through, grow closer to Him and help others who are going through the same thing.

4 years later, my relationship with food is still messed up and it will be until the day I die. I still can't eat actual meals because I have programmed my mind that an actual meal consists of too many calories. On the opposite end of the spectrum, I have also used food to control my emotions. For instance, last year, I got my first B in college. What did I do? I ate anything and everything in my path. Dry cereal, cookies, pints of ice cream in one sitting. Yes, I said pints, as in, more than one pint at a time. After vowing I would clean up my act, what happened second semester? The same thing.

However, I was then, and I still am now, afraid to gain weight. I don't like it and I see it as an "end of the world" type event. So why did I let myself go through two semesters of stuffing my face? Not only was it to control my stress, but it was also because I was sick of being chased by guys who didn't care about me, they cared about my looks. Just because I was thin, regardless of my face, my intellect, or my personality, guys would go after me. I disliked it greatly. I am not the prettiest, smartest, or even close to having the best personality, but I was nice and I was thin, and that's what guys wanted.

But as the weight came on, guys started to back off. Then I could focus on school and get those high marks. When the high marks didn't come, I ate again, hoping my problems would be solved. It quickly became a vicious cycle.

Finally, as this summer began, my eating has normalized. I have maintained my weight, which is something can honestly say I haven't done in over 4 years.

All of this probably sounds very messed up and I know it is. I can't disagree. I mean, I struggle with both extremes daily. I still love the feeling of being hungry, but I also eat chocolate when I get stressed. I will never have a good relationship with food again. However, one thing that I will always have from my experiences is God. He has always been there and will always be there for me, no matter how evil I see food in my eyes.

One day, I will show young men and women that they too can grow closer to God because of their mental illnesses. They were given those illnesses because God knew they could handle it. It'll be my job to prove that to them.

Psych Assessment

My Psych Assessment class makes me nervous. Sure, I love that we get worksheets in lab and have to complete them by the next class period. It's like being in middle school again with math homework. But, and this is a huge but, I payed zero attention in statistics class. I goofed off and did what I had to do to get an A. That sounds terrible, but it's true. It was easy for me, so I didn't even do the homework. I just showed up for tests.

Now that I am in Psych Assessment, a harder version of stats class, I am regretting my choice of putting forth less than required effort to get an A. I somehow got lucky to get my A. Anyway, now I am relearning everything because I was a bad college student. So much for "never using stats again."

In lecture, the professor, who just happens to be my advisor, will ask questions and the class stares blankly. Then she'll look at me and I'll answer the question. Yes, I'm that kid who is the default if the rest of the class is clueless. Nice, Kaila. Nice.

Lab wasn't much different. We have worksheets to work on and she is there to answer any questions we may have. At first, I keep moving along through the worksheets, wondering if I was doing something wrong. The rest of the class was still on the first or second page when I got to the fifth page. I really thought I was taking shortcuts when I realized I am better than the average human at math. Just slightly above average, but that apparently makes the difference.

When I got to a point where I was unsure what to do, I realized others would probably struggle more than I did. I'm not trying to toot my own horn, but I know my sense of struggling is different than that for most other people. Even though this class will probably be difficult for me, I may have the easiest time of everyone. So, in true stats fashion, if this class was graded on a bell curve, I'd have a good chance at an A. :)