I live under the impression that horoscopes are just helpful suggestions. I do not know actually what they are all about, or how they are obtained, or how they’ve remained so relevant for so long. I mean this is the best way possible; they’re fun, I like them. But I don’t live my life based on my monthly horoscope; instead, I use my sign to reflect on why April, for example, was a lot. To say the least.

I am not going to get into April so hard, but be aware that it was a lot of stress and complicated almost-mental-breakdowns and birthdays that I kind of sucked at celebrating. I also decided that I’d tell my mother how I felt about graduating in a couple weeks, and how I felt about being left out of planning the festivities surrounding the big day. I did this politely in the middle of a craft store as I we perused boxes of string lights. I suggested we do a mix of a bunch of them so it looked really funky out in the backyard (yes, I said funky), and she promptly reminded me that we were having about fifty or so people over and that the party couldn’t look “thrown together”. I said I didn’t feel like I was being told enough about my own graduation party, and I reminded her that I am the one who is about to terminate the bane of my literal existence (high school) forever.

I am a Scorpio, and before I continue any further: no, I don’t like plotting murder; no, I do not feed off of jealousy and act on explosive envy; no, I do not seek intricate revenge when scorned; and no, I don’t walk around in a black cape and go by a pseudonym. So when I approached my mother about my feelings, I did not do so in a roundabout or aggressive way; I was frank and reasonable.

I still hurt her feelings. All this, after four birthdays that came and went without me paying enough attention to these happy aging friends of mine (and my brother, R.I.P.). All this, after probably three breakdowns (one crouched in the bathtub, one in the yearbook lab with my head flat on the table, and one with my face buried in my bedroom’s carpet). The beginning of May rolled around, and I thought to myself: Why am I so relieved that April is gone? I love April. Explain??? So, I looked to the stars – or, really, Lucy’s handy horoscopes that go up the second of the month right here.

And there it was. I was apparently supposed to be badass in April. I was supposed to say everything I meant to say and nothing I didn’t. I could expect some turbulence with my family and friends. I twisted my month’s disaster track to fit the outline of my sign’s “helpful suggestion”.

I was running into some issues with my friends in basically pissing on their birthday cakes. I was “duking it out” with my mom – which I never do – in the middle of a craft store because for once in a while, I was speaking my mind without a pencil in my hand or my fingers clicking keys on a keyboard. I was being so much of a badass that I made myself have a complete come-apart while there was still shampoo in my hair.

This isn’t the first time I’d done this, but it was the final catalyst to share my process of making myself feel less problematic with the Internet. I know this sounds crazy, and most people will probably not break the rightful habit of reading their horoscopes in preparation for what’s to greet them later. But here I am, doing everything backwards all the time here on Earth. So, the cosmos are naturally the next step.