Grief is brutal.
Monday night I found myself laying in bed, sobbing all over the pages of my journal which I was finding myself hard-pressed to write in, with wads of Kleenex strewn everywhere, and the prayer card with my dead friend's face looming in the candlelight. I was setting myself up for this misery, but I couldn't help it. I kept thinking about the would have/could have/should have situations that we all punish ourselves with when something doesn't go the way we'd hoped. I couldn't shake myself out of it which is unlike me. Usually I can fight my own brain with logic and win! I can tell myself I am being ridiculous and go run outside or drag myself to the shower to shake off the bad vibes. Monday night won the battle - and I broke.
My head was filled with regret and disdain. I should have reached out to my friend sooner. I should have been a better friend over all. I wasn't. I was MaryAnne the Recluse. I pushed myself away from my friend as I did with most of the relationships in my life. Its easier that way right? Oh was I so wrong. Instead of feeling detached and callous, I felt ruined.
There have been upwards of 3 trillion times that I have passed by a name in my phone or just hit like on FaceBook and never stopped for a minute to say "Hi." And not "How are you?" No one cares about that; most people deliver a generic response anyway. Sometimes I think, oh, I should text him/her - and never do.
With my friend that passed away, it was his birthday two weeks before he died. I saw it come up on my notifications, eventhough I have always remembered his birthday, and I said "I am going to text him. Not message him on FaceBook." And then I forgot.
Today I am filled with so much sadness about it.
I wish I could have told my friend that I loved him one more time.
Tonight, I text 30 people that I don't text or speak to on a regular basis.
Some not even at all. I simply put it in to the universe that I was thinking about them, I missed them, or I loved them. In some cases, it was all three. I was legitimately thinking of most of them. I have been all week. But I really just needed to tell some people in my life that I care about them. Caring for people comes easy to me; however, telling people I care does not.
I had three people respond with a "Thank you. I needed that tonight." Each of those three responses brought me to tears. I couldn't help but think of my friend and if maybe he would have needed something like that. I am glad, though, that I, in my small insignificant text, can mean something to someone.
No one didn't respond.
Most people replied back right way. Telling me they loved me too or missed me. A few wanted to get together. A few wanted to catch up right then with foot-long texts back and forth. It was so nice to catch up and make plans; To give love out and to receive it right back.
Normally when I grieve, I want to push everyone away, build a blanket fort, and watch Little Women or Anne of Green Gables and be alone. This time has been severely different. I don't know why Brandon's death has made this impact on me, but I am glad I was able to reach out to some people that I truly care for and tell them I love them or I miss them.
And I will do it again. Because it has to be done.
Thursday, February 4, 2016
Friday, January 29, 2016
Rubber Soul, Broken Heart
"There are places I remember, all my life though some have changed.
Some forever not for better; Some have gone and some remain.
All these places have their moments with lovers and friends, I still can recall.
Some are dead and some are living. In my life, I've loved them all."
Some people listen to music for the beat. I have never been one of those people. I have always listened to music to hear the poetry in the lyrics. Each word a piece of a story that would capture me. I used to sit at my cassette player with a notepad for hours, pressing play/stop/rewind over and over to learn lyrics. I had notepads full of different song lyrics that spoke to me and made me feel. Music was never about tapping my toes or swaying to the beat, it was a language that I understood on a different level than other people.
The first album I wore into oblivion was The Beatles Rubber Soul. I can remember rifling through my brother's cassettes and seeing this one. Having heard most of the songs many times due to the wonderful musical education of my mom and dad, I listened so intently. Scribbling every lyric and thinking my life had some connection to the words. Hands down, my favorite Beatles song is "In My Life." And playing Rubber Soul upwards of a thousand times helped to solidify that. I cannot hear it today without nostalgia soaring through me and my eyes welling with tears.
To this day, I still connect moments of my life to songs. I can't remember what I did yesterday or the day before, but I can remember 3 months ago sitting on a bench in the rain with my best friend listening to Sara Bareilles "She Used To Be Mine." I can remember driving to Lansing to an Army base listening to Eminem's Marshall Mather's LP, rapping our brains out and thinking we were invincible. Or driving to a deli in Miami, Florida with a childhood friend while her dad played Jay and The Americans; I can still remember every word. Sitting in a bowling alley parking lot while OneRepublic's "Stop and Stare" came on. Or reading the lyrics to my therapist of Bob Dylan's To Make You Feel My Love when I was 15 and thought my love for a boy was endless. Or even the first time I heard City and Colour, which is now one of my all-time favorite artists. Music has left it's mark on so many moments.
Music is so much more than something to listen to for me. Music is the basis of my existence and is behind every single thing I have done. It speaks to me in ways I cannot explain and it makes me feel...well... everything. Do I drum to the beat of songs? Sure. I also sing them, harmonize them, and do background vocals. I adore music for all it has to offer.
So now I will circle back to my story about The Beatles:
A friend of mine and I tried dating for a while. We flirted a lot at work and one day he finally asked me out. We didn't date very long as we were in very different places in our life, but we never held our failed relationship against each other. I was I was 26 with a 6 year old at home and he was 22 and living the life that most 22-year olds live: wild abandon. We didn't have a lot in common in regard to life and leisure, but what we lacked in commonality, we made up for in a general respect for each other.
One night, after working a seemingly endless shift, we decided to sit in the empty parking lot at our work for a while and just talk. We smoked cigarettes and played loud music. And then a song came on: In My Life. He reached over and grabbed my hand, "This is one of the ultimates right here." I recognized the look on his face, which took him to another place, because when I heard the song, it did the same to me. We had both been through a lot in our lives, but in many different ways. Yet somehow, this song brought us together. He proceeded after to play Don McLean's American Pie and tell me how much that song meant to him as well. Another night I will never forget.
My friend passed away yesterday. And as I sift through the emotions I cannot fully understand, I have to listen to the song that takes me back to that night in his car in the Lowe's parking lot. While life was still moving outside, life inside that car slowed as we enjoyed a wonderful song. I will always love my friend for giving me a nickname I adored, for keeping me from fighting a girl at a party one drunken night, for giving me awful Valentine's Day memories, for understanding my love of music, and for always being himself around me.
"Though I know I'll never lose affection for people and things that went before,
I know I'll often stop and think about them.
In my life, I love you more."
Some forever not for better; Some have gone and some remain.
All these places have their moments with lovers and friends, I still can recall.
Some are dead and some are living. In my life, I've loved them all."
Some people listen to music for the beat. I have never been one of those people. I have always listened to music to hear the poetry in the lyrics. Each word a piece of a story that would capture me. I used to sit at my cassette player with a notepad for hours, pressing play/stop/rewind over and over to learn lyrics. I had notepads full of different song lyrics that spoke to me and made me feel. Music was never about tapping my toes or swaying to the beat, it was a language that I understood on a different level than other people.
The first album I wore into oblivion was The Beatles Rubber Soul. I can remember rifling through my brother's cassettes and seeing this one. Having heard most of the songs many times due to the wonderful musical education of my mom and dad, I listened so intently. Scribbling every lyric and thinking my life had some connection to the words. Hands down, my favorite Beatles song is "In My Life." And playing Rubber Soul upwards of a thousand times helped to solidify that. I cannot hear it today without nostalgia soaring through me and my eyes welling with tears.
To this day, I still connect moments of my life to songs. I can't remember what I did yesterday or the day before, but I can remember 3 months ago sitting on a bench in the rain with my best friend listening to Sara Bareilles "She Used To Be Mine." I can remember driving to Lansing to an Army base listening to Eminem's Marshall Mather's LP, rapping our brains out and thinking we were invincible. Or driving to a deli in Miami, Florida with a childhood friend while her dad played Jay and The Americans; I can still remember every word. Sitting in a bowling alley parking lot while OneRepublic's "Stop and Stare" came on. Or reading the lyrics to my therapist of Bob Dylan's To Make You Feel My Love when I was 15 and thought my love for a boy was endless. Or even the first time I heard City and Colour, which is now one of my all-time favorite artists. Music has left it's mark on so many moments.
Music is so much more than something to listen to for me. Music is the basis of my existence and is behind every single thing I have done. It speaks to me in ways I cannot explain and it makes me feel...well... everything. Do I drum to the beat of songs? Sure. I also sing them, harmonize them, and do background vocals. I adore music for all it has to offer.
So now I will circle back to my story about The Beatles:
A friend of mine and I tried dating for a while. We flirted a lot at work and one day he finally asked me out. We didn't date very long as we were in very different places in our life, but we never held our failed relationship against each other. I was I was 26 with a 6 year old at home and he was 22 and living the life that most 22-year olds live: wild abandon. We didn't have a lot in common in regard to life and leisure, but what we lacked in commonality, we made up for in a general respect for each other.
One night, after working a seemingly endless shift, we decided to sit in the empty parking lot at our work for a while and just talk. We smoked cigarettes and played loud music. And then a song came on: In My Life. He reached over and grabbed my hand, "This is one of the ultimates right here." I recognized the look on his face, which took him to another place, because when I heard the song, it did the same to me. We had both been through a lot in our lives, but in many different ways. Yet somehow, this song brought us together. He proceeded after to play Don McLean's American Pie and tell me how much that song meant to him as well. Another night I will never forget.
My friend passed away yesterday. And as I sift through the emotions I cannot fully understand, I have to listen to the song that takes me back to that night in his car in the Lowe's parking lot. While life was still moving outside, life inside that car slowed as we enjoyed a wonderful song. I will always love my friend for giving me a nickname I adored, for keeping me from fighting a girl at a party one drunken night, for giving me awful Valentine's Day memories, for understanding my love of music, and for always being himself around me.
"Though I know I'll never lose affection for people and things that went before,
I know I'll often stop and think about them.
In my life, I love you more."
Thursday, December 31, 2015
My 2015
'Tis that time for reflection again, and whilst I like to reflect after each event happens, I figure I would give a more general account here.
1) I grew some roots.
1) I grew some roots.
I am 18 months in to this job and it feels like I have been there for 10 years and it is still my first day wrapped in one. I was promoted in May, now it is December, and I have hardly ever done the same thing twice; therefore, I retain next to nothing, but I seem to be pretty decent at it so onward we go. I look forward to coming into work (most days) and my co-workers and I seem to have quite a bit of fun together. They are one of the best and most cohesive groups of people I have ever met. They want me to step ahead and start solidifying my future there, so I suppose that is in the cards for me for 2016. Series 7 or bust?
2) I remembered how horrendous Junior High could be.
2) I remembered how horrendous Junior High could be.
My girl, Lou, has had one hell of a year. At first I wasn't sure if I was going to pull her out of her current school. The lack of attention by administrators was disheartening, her friends were rotten, bullying was running rampant, and my heart was breaking. I would come home from work and go directly to school, so I was seeing less of her. But when I would come home after a 15-hour day and find her in bed, defeated, and crying, I wasn't sure where our road would take us at all. I would sit at my desk at work and weep for her. Knowing that from two cities away I couldn't rescue her on demand or save her from one of the worst rites of passage. If I remember anything from Junior High at all, it was that it was one of the worst times I ever had. And this, for me, was the whole of 7th grade. Friends abandoned me, new friends came and went, I had to drop classes due to bullying, I stopped showering for a few months (uhm, ew!). Junior High was a disaster! Yet here I am doing it all over again. You want to know what my sage advice was? I'm sorry, but "we all have to go through the horrible to not only find respect for ourselves but respect for the things we want most."
I can't go into school and beat children up for you.
I can't kick down every mother's door and tell them to parent better. Maybe they work and go to school, too?
We only have 6 months left and then it is off to high school *barf* where the bullying and judgement from friends is on steroids, but I am sure after all this we will be fine.
I can't go into school and beat children up for you.
I can't kick down every mother's door and tell them to parent better. Maybe they work and go to school, too?
We only have 6 months left and then it is off to high school *barf* where the bullying and judgement from friends is on steroids, but I am sure after all this we will be fine.
My girl has a thickness to her skin now, that she will use going forward. She sees people differently. She understands more clearly that a lot of people are rotten, but the good ones are worth holding tighter.
3) I graduated.
When I was pregnant with my daughter and about a year after I had her, I had been taking a class here and a class there. Never with any real intention to go on and become a scientist or a sonographer or a journalist. In 2004, I chose work over school. For the next nine years, I would choose raising a well-rounded child who wanted for nothing over going to school. I would always say "When she needs me less, I will go back." Getting fired from Lowes gave me that gift. I suddenly had a surplus of time on my hands and was able to enroll back in school full time for two semesters, which got a large portion of my credits out of the way. When my year of unemployment was over, I went back to working full-time, being a parent 365 days a year, coached softball, and also went to school 2 or 3 nights a week. My kid could finally stay home alone, where necessary, and I was in a place in my life where I was able to juggle many tasks at once. It all just worked. 3 years later, I graduated with honors. Role model? Check.
3) I graduated.
When I was pregnant with my daughter and about a year after I had her, I had been taking a class here and a class there. Never with any real intention to go on and become a scientist or a sonographer or a journalist. In 2004, I chose work over school. For the next nine years, I would choose raising a well-rounded child who wanted for nothing over going to school. I would always say "When she needs me less, I will go back." Getting fired from Lowes gave me that gift. I suddenly had a surplus of time on my hands and was able to enroll back in school full time for two semesters, which got a large portion of my credits out of the way. When my year of unemployment was over, I went back to working full-time, being a parent 365 days a year, coached softball, and also went to school 2 or 3 nights a week. My kid could finally stay home alone, where necessary, and I was in a place in my life where I was able to juggle many tasks at once. It all just worked. 3 years later, I graduated with honors. Role model? Check.
Oh and with no tutor, pulled off an A and then a B+ in Algebra.
4) My big brother got married and I was his best man?
4) My big brother got married and I was his best man?
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| Toes in the sand and one beautiful sunrise. |
After a half a dozen Xanex, one book, and two boxes of Good N' Plentys, we finally settled into our ocean-front resort hotel in beautiful Virginia Beach. My brother, at 39 years old finally was able to say his vows to the woman of his dreams and the whole family got to be there for it. I had been asked to be the best man and I loved every minute of it (with the exception of the Bachelors Party; being the only girl kinda sucked!)! Either way, I prepared a wonderful speech, we took lots of freezing cold pictures on the beach, and we celebrated with total strangers the way families do.
 |
Guys and girls on both sides. Beautiful new family and friends. <3
|
Everything was right out of a fairy tale. The dress was to die for, the food was wonderful, the people were fantastic, the DJ wasn't awful. The weather was crappy that day and we had to shiver outside, but amidst the cold I got to witness two people who make each other incandescently happy.
We went to Jamestown and Washington DC afterward. I rode the subway for my first time. I ate at a food truck for my first time. I went to Arlington for my first time. I got lost on the DC Highway system for the first... and then second time. My 6th trip to Virginia Beach (and elsewhere) proved to be a lovely adventure.
5) My Bird and I went on some new adventures.
5) My Bird and I went on some new adventures.
I don't have a spouse or even a significant other. I haven't actually been in a relationship in many years now, but what I have been missing in companionship with a spouse, I find (for the most part) with my Bird. We coexist in perfect harmony. We don't often yell, we do what the other expects, we like most of the same things, we use a lot of the same products, and we share this innate longing for adventure. I live and breath for taking in new sights and sounds; my girl shares my affinity for life in that same special way. I don't have to explain to her why things are the way they are, why we just went to this new place, or why I am silent or why I am crying - she just gets it. 13 years of someone every single day will get you that way I suppose.
This year, I forgave one of my biggest offenders for their past transgressions.
I even thanked them for being a part of my life and contributing what they did while they were in it.
As cliché as it sounds, I slept better that night. I think I will always sleep a little better knowing that weight is gone forever.
7) I fell in love with some music.
For whatever reason I never fell in love with The Lumineers at the start; however, in 2015, they became a part of my soul. Yes, The Lumineers are a horcrux.
The song She Used to Be Mine by Sara Bareilles was like opening a window into my own soul. I know it is from the musical, The Waitress, but it is so MaryAnne and it moves me. I hear it and I have to sing, but then my voice cracks and my eyes water. Ugh. Love.
If you care, here are my favorites from this year (whether they are actually from this year, I don't care):
Sara Bareilles - She Used to Be Mine
Gregory Alan Isakov - That Moon Song
The Lumineers - Slow It Down
Sam Smith - The Writing's On the Wall
James Bay - Let It Go
Hello - Adele
Like Real People Do - Hozier
2015 was really quiet in all the ways that matter. There was loss and heartache like every year before, but there was also growth and understanding. There were moments where I went a wee bit crazy, but there were moments where I found peace, too.
I am hoping 2016 can exhibit more growth and solace. I am looking forward to learning more and going on even cooler adventures than before. I am looking to get out of my comfort-zone a little (high school, wahhhhh!), and I am anticipating finding out more about what I want and need from life. So bring it on 2016. Universe, I am ready for you.
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| My girl and my man! |
This year, we adventured to Traverse City, Glenn Arbor, Ann Arbor, Virginia Beach, Arlington, and Sarnia, Ontario. Each adventure was different and each adventure left us with unmistakable and unforgettable memories.
I am not a fan of forgiveness or any of the feelings that come along with it. I find it stressfull and my breath quickens just thinking about having to forgive someone when they were wrong. Hell, even if I was wrong. I don't believe you should be "let off the hook" for a great many things, but then I guess I should decide whether I would like to be the pot or the kettle. This year, I forgave one of my biggest offenders for their past transgressions.
I even thanked them for being a part of my life and contributing what they did while they were in it.
As cliché as it sounds, I slept better that night. I think I will always sleep a little better knowing that weight is gone forever.
7) I fell in love with some music.
For whatever reason I never fell in love with The Lumineers at the start; however, in 2015, they became a part of my soul. Yes, The Lumineers are a horcrux.
The song She Used to Be Mine by Sara Bareilles was like opening a window into my own soul. I know it is from the musical, The Waitress, but it is so MaryAnne and it moves me. I hear it and I have to sing, but then my voice cracks and my eyes water. Ugh. Love.
If you care, here are my favorites from this year (whether they are actually from this year, I don't care):
Sara Bareilles - She Used to Be Mine
Gregory Alan Isakov - That Moon Song
The Lumineers - Slow It Down
Sam Smith - The Writing's On the Wall
James Bay - Let It Go
Hello - Adele
Like Real People Do - Hozier
2015 was really quiet in all the ways that matter. There was loss and heartache like every year before, but there was also growth and understanding. There were moments where I went a wee bit crazy, but there were moments where I found peace, too.
I am hoping 2016 can exhibit more growth and solace. I am looking forward to learning more and going on even cooler adventures than before. I am looking to get out of my comfort-zone a little (high school, wahhhhh!), and I am anticipating finding out more about what I want and need from life. So bring it on 2016. Universe, I am ready for you.
Thursday, December 24, 2015
Slightly less...
Over not any one in particular, but everyone as a whole. And not for any one particular reason, but maybe for every reason combined.
I used to have some pretty selfish friends, then I had some boyfriends who cheated, and then it was feeling ostracized from my friends whom I had little-to-nothing in common with. While my friends hung out at bars and met people, found new friends, went new places, I stayed home, alone, with my child. While my friends moved forward in life, got married, began to have their own children, I continued to push myself further and further away from the human race. After all, pushing away is what I do best.
After a while I realized that when I am in a relationship, I am toxic anyway. And not just my significant other, but even, sometimes, with friends. Perhaps it is a great number of years of my "friends" using me, betraying me, or leaving; same as my significant other. I never devote myself to anyone anymore. I used to be that friend that came running for any reason, but now you can't rely using me in that way.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, "I'm broken." It is so much further beyond that now. Whereas I once was broken, now I am conditioned to have no feelings at all. Still being betrayed and hurt by the people I love, yet no longer standing up for myself and pushing you away, just letting it happen and being abused. All the while, my attitude is quite callous.
In the past month, I have seen some kind of... reflection... of myself. Like an out of body experience? I have been hearing people talk about things of concern and where others console and are "there for people." I am not. I even think, "I should say something nice, but I really really don't care." When people talk about their newest whatever, I feel more inclined to leave the room than I do to stay and listen. And I know this is so wrong.
This is not to say I do not do kind things. That I do not hold the door for people, because I do. That I do not feed the homeless, because I do. That I do not donate money to the abandoned pet center in my area, because I do. Or even have two cats that I'd prefer not to have whom one of has been ill for the better part of 3 years, but I keep him and pet him and love him. Even though I say I don't. This is not to say that I don't do kind, nice, thoughtful, and considerate things, because I do.
But somewhere deep inside. Somewhere in my heart of hearts, I am not sure if I can be repaired anymore. I am not sure if my too-rational thinking and unfailing ability to reason everything can ever overcome what is in going on inside of me.
So instead of making a bunch of New Years Resolutions about how I am going to get in shape or use Facebook less (which I fully intend to do as a part of a new life resolution), I plan to work more on MaryAnne. Learning to stand up for myself in appropriate ways, trying not to use my words as a scare tactic that really works well, attempting to say the kind things I think, but can't bring myself to utter.
Does this mean I am changing? No. Not yet.
What it does mean is that I would like to be slightly less broken than I am currently.
I used to have some pretty selfish friends, then I had some boyfriends who cheated, and then it was feeling ostracized from my friends whom I had little-to-nothing in common with. While my friends hung out at bars and met people, found new friends, went new places, I stayed home, alone, with my child. While my friends moved forward in life, got married, began to have their own children, I continued to push myself further and further away from the human race. After all, pushing away is what I do best.
After a while I realized that when I am in a relationship, I am toxic anyway. And not just my significant other, but even, sometimes, with friends. Perhaps it is a great number of years of my "friends" using me, betraying me, or leaving; same as my significant other. I never devote myself to anyone anymore. I used to be that friend that came running for any reason, but now you can't rely using me in that way.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, "I'm broken." It is so much further beyond that now. Whereas I once was broken, now I am conditioned to have no feelings at all. Still being betrayed and hurt by the people I love, yet no longer standing up for myself and pushing you away, just letting it happen and being abused. All the while, my attitude is quite callous.
In the past month, I have seen some kind of... reflection... of myself. Like an out of body experience? I have been hearing people talk about things of concern and where others console and are "there for people." I am not. I even think, "I should say something nice, but I really really don't care." When people talk about their newest whatever, I feel more inclined to leave the room than I do to stay and listen. And I know this is so wrong.
This is not to say I do not do kind things. That I do not hold the door for people, because I do. That I do not feed the homeless, because I do. That I do not donate money to the abandoned pet center in my area, because I do. Or even have two cats that I'd prefer not to have whom one of has been ill for the better part of 3 years, but I keep him and pet him and love him. Even though I say I don't. This is not to say that I don't do kind, nice, thoughtful, and considerate things, because I do.
But somewhere deep inside. Somewhere in my heart of hearts, I am not sure if I can be repaired anymore. I am not sure if my too-rational thinking and unfailing ability to reason everything can ever overcome what is in going on inside of me.
So instead of making a bunch of New Years Resolutions about how I am going to get in shape or use Facebook less (which I fully intend to do as a part of a new life resolution), I plan to work more on MaryAnne. Learning to stand up for myself in appropriate ways, trying not to use my words as a scare tactic that really works well, attempting to say the kind things I think, but can't bring myself to utter.
Does this mean I am changing? No. Not yet.
What it does mean is that I would like to be slightly less broken than I am currently.
Monday, December 14, 2015
Slip Through Your Fingers
I find it hard to believe that destiny is carved out for us. That each decision we make was predetermined and our fate was decided before we even make those choices. Doesn't that quite ruin the notion of free will and the entirety of the decision-making process?
I would like to think that the decisions I have made for myself were my own and not charted out somewhere in the stars while some deity sits back and says "Yep, she is par for the course."
I was supposed to go to college straight out of high school.
I was supposed to be 19, wild, and free. I was supposed to be 21 and go to bars and have little-to-no responsibility.
I was supposed to be married after my 2, then 3, then 4 year engagement.
I was supposed to live and die in retail.
I was supposed to write children's literature professionally.
I was supposed to move to California.
I was supposed to go see Europe and never come back.
I was supposed to have between two and four children, because I always imagined myself with a nice-sized family.
None of my plans have happened. A lot of other people's plans happened. But my plans took a shit.
I have now been a student since January 2013 consistently.
Three non-stop years of a life of total chaos.
The plan wasn't to work for 15 years after high school, then go to college.
The plan wasn't to have a child at 19 by myself.
The plan was not to be single for a decade.
The plan was not to buy a house and live in it alone (okay, minus the dog and cats).
So is this the real plan? Is this what "destiny" set out for me?
A general malaise of real plans and hey, you get what's left over?
I am feeling quite whiny and pathetic right now. It is finals week so perhaps it is my disdain for all things having to do with a thought process.
The gears are whirring and I am pretty sure you can see smoke.
I am tired of being tested. I am tired of my ideas not even being taken into consideration.
I would like to think that the decisions I have made for myself were my own and not charted out somewhere in the stars while some deity sits back and says "Yep, she is par for the course."
I was supposed to go to college straight out of high school.
I was supposed to be 19, wild, and free. I was supposed to be 21 and go to bars and have little-to-no responsibility.
I was supposed to be married after my 2, then 3, then 4 year engagement.
I was supposed to live and die in retail.
I was supposed to write children's literature professionally.
I was supposed to move to California.
I was supposed to go see Europe and never come back.
I was supposed to have between two and four children, because I always imagined myself with a nice-sized family.
None of my plans have happened. A lot of other people's plans happened. But my plans took a shit.
I have now been a student since January 2013 consistently.
Three non-stop years of a life of total chaos.
The plan wasn't to work for 15 years after high school, then go to college.
The plan wasn't to have a child at 19 by myself.
The plan was not to be single for a decade.
The plan was not to buy a house and live in it alone (okay, minus the dog and cats).
So is this the real plan? Is this what "destiny" set out for me?
A general malaise of real plans and hey, you get what's left over?
I am feeling quite whiny and pathetic right now. It is finals week so perhaps it is my disdain for all things having to do with a thought process.
The gears are whirring and I am pretty sure you can see smoke.
I am tired of being tested. I am tired of my ideas not even being taken into consideration.
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
She is gone...
The pain of loss is indescribable. The air being taken from your lungs every time you try to breathe, the floor continously falling out from underneath your feet, or even a constant running; being exhausted but never being able to stop. Perhaps loss is even a combination of those. Loss is the worst fears and worst feelings bundled into one entity and existing in the void in your chest.
I have lost many people in my life. I have lost family and friends of every make and measure. I have even lost a child. A loss i can compare with no other. And those people were taken from me. Mostly too early, but some in due time. Life has a cruel way of making sure you never forget what pain feels like; you can never be too happy without that sharp reminder.
Of (almost) all the pain I have had, none hurts as much as the voluntary loss. Someone choosing to leave me. Someone I chose to be apart of my life.
Trust doesn't come easy for me. I'll never really hold you closer than an arms length away. I don't do this by choice but by second nature and self-defense. This reaction is subconscious and it protects me from more unnecessary pain. Pain I have suffered enough of.
But the loss, when I do let you inside and you still choose to leave me, is the worst kind of devastating. I can't catch my breath because I no longer I have lungs. The floor isn't falling, I have fallen onto it and smashed into a million pieces. I will stop running because the pain has paralyzed me and I cannot move at all.
The emptiness could fill a room.
The emptiness could fill a room.
I lay here imagining my void in a different way. Imagining it with a different ending - one where I am not left alone again.
And the tears stream from my eyes, spattering the pillow beneath my head.
The hollow pit in my stomach churns reminding me not to forget the chasm within.
The waste that was love.
The vacancy that was my heart.
And the tears stream from my eyes, spattering the pillow beneath my head.
The hollow pit in my stomach churns reminding me not to forget the chasm within.
The waste that was love.
The vacancy that was my heart.
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Fellow Earthlings
More often than not I hear people whine about youth. How they aren't learning all the things they should be, how they are all narcissistic, how they aren't as talented as children in past eras.
It is disappointing to hear these things.
As a parent raising a child in this world, I am less impressed with the world than I am with my daughter who knows nothing, apparently.
When I look at my daughter, I see intellect among beauty. I see kindness, gentleness, and grace. I see a teenager who doesn't understand why her Facebook is filled with people with loud opinions and hurtful tongues. I see a child who questions faith and spirituality to the nth degree. I see a child who has been exposed to the truths of love and life - too young. I see a girl who says she wants to make an impression and leave her mark doing something meaningful.
Then I see the world. I see desolation and greed. I see an unending hate that is feeding off of despair and fear and creating even more hate.
And yet, I am trying to raise a child in this world. A world full of hate. A world where people who can't even "love thy neighbor" can certainly judge an entire generation of children.
Do you know how hard it is to raise a kind and gentle daughter with the abhorrence that is spewed with every passing moment by nearly everyone we meet? Do you know how hard it is to raise beauty in a world where her fellow citizens are constantly ugly? I have been that person, too. I have detested others for their ignorance, but I have also learned. I have grown past throwing my disgust around with no solution.
My solution is simple: I will live my life for my family with all the love in my heart I always have. I wont live in fear. I won't lessen these standards because the world has changed; I have changed with it after all. I will live in peace, as hard as that is, and live this life how it should be lived. I will absorb the bad days and relish in the good days. I will stand strong against adversity and I will be resilient against my trepidation. I will understand that some people are born with repulsion coursing through their veins, while others are born with humanity and benevolence.
When my daughter decides that she will take these values with her to college, or to trade school, or to her future family, then I will have succeeded in raising her.
Sure, she will know Common Core math, she will not know how to write in cursive, and she will most likely have her face stuck to her phone screen ninety percent of the time, but she will have value and worth. She will be a contributing member to society. As far as I am concerned, she already is - and a lot more than some people I know.
If I raised her to care about her fellow Earthlings, then I'd say its a job well done.
This world is tough. This world is full of complications. This world is a mess. But it is our world and we have to always care about it.
It is disappointing to hear these things.
As a parent raising a child in this world, I am less impressed with the world than I am with my daughter who knows nothing, apparently.
When I look at my daughter, I see intellect among beauty. I see kindness, gentleness, and grace. I see a teenager who doesn't understand why her Facebook is filled with people with loud opinions and hurtful tongues. I see a child who questions faith and spirituality to the nth degree. I see a child who has been exposed to the truths of love and life - too young. I see a girl who says she wants to make an impression and leave her mark doing something meaningful.
Then I see the world. I see desolation and greed. I see an unending hate that is feeding off of despair and fear and creating even more hate.
And yet, I am trying to raise a child in this world. A world full of hate. A world where people who can't even "love thy neighbor" can certainly judge an entire generation of children.
Do you know how hard it is to raise a kind and gentle daughter with the abhorrence that is spewed with every passing moment by nearly everyone we meet? Do you know how hard it is to raise beauty in a world where her fellow citizens are constantly ugly? I have been that person, too. I have detested others for their ignorance, but I have also learned. I have grown past throwing my disgust around with no solution.
My solution is simple: I will live my life for my family with all the love in my heart I always have. I wont live in fear. I won't lessen these standards because the world has changed; I have changed with it after all. I will live in peace, as hard as that is, and live this life how it should be lived. I will absorb the bad days and relish in the good days. I will stand strong against adversity and I will be resilient against my trepidation. I will understand that some people are born with repulsion coursing through their veins, while others are born with humanity and benevolence.
When my daughter decides that she will take these values with her to college, or to trade school, or to her future family, then I will have succeeded in raising her.
Sure, she will know Common Core math, she will not know how to write in cursive, and she will most likely have her face stuck to her phone screen ninety percent of the time, but she will have value and worth. She will be a contributing member to society. As far as I am concerned, she already is - and a lot more than some people I know.
If I raised her to care about her fellow Earthlings, then I'd say its a job well done.
This world is tough. This world is full of complications. This world is a mess. But it is our world and we have to always care about it.
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