Hiatus

This blog post has been written three separate times, with three separate ideas and tones-none of which were posted. I thought this post would speak to fear, to doubt, to the way things just feel out of place when you’re on the verge of change. But I don’t think that’s been the entire picture. Instead, I find that much the way depression clears from the sky, so too have my struggles come to perspective.

When the clock hit “30 days”, I felt a surge of panic. I was getting ready to move away (almost a thousand miles) from the only life I’d ever known, make a new life from ground up. That’s a lot to commit to, especially when I had ever manner of nervous breakdown when I moved just an hour away to the university I just graduated from. But in the past two years, I’ve become someone new, and I think that’s been something I needed very much.

When the clock hit “20 days”, I felt the waves of doubt. I was entering a new lifestyle, one which I didn’t fully understand, one that I was sure wasn’t something I was prepared for. I was leaving behind all sense of security and stability because I wanted change. I was throwing my caution to the wind and letting my life float down white water rapids.

When the clock hit “10 days”, I felt depleted. I was unable to come to terms with the reality of the situation. I had just a fraction of time left before I was ready to go on my journey. I met with everyone I needed to, spent time debating with myself, talking myself out of the fears and doubts that had come before. I touched weakness and reaffirmed that I was doing what I absolutely was destined to.

When the clock hit “7 days” I finally caught a glimpse of excitement. It was small, a flicker of a fire I thought was completely out. I felt things coming together and I realized that I’d been waiting for permission to be excited.

Truth be told, I know I have a long way to go. Big change is scary, and I’ve done my share of going back and forth about being afraid. But if the fear doesn’t go away, you just have to do it afraid. And it was when I came to terms with that idea that I felt like it would be okay. I put down my constant hovering, let go of my trust issues and I told myself that I would make it work-even if I didn’t know how to yet.

I have a little less than a week left in my apartment. There are boxes where memories stood, bags filled with parsed down essentials and just a couple things splayed about, waiting for use. Each day I look at my calendar-a dry erase one which has been erased numerous times-and I remember that life isn’t meant to be static. Change is inevitable. After all, when I started this blog, I was determined to become a doctor. If that had been my life, I’d be writing you from a much different perspective. Instead, I am right where I need to be. It’s been tough-sometimes too dark to see where I’m headed, but I kept going. I’ve got more boxes to check, but for the most part this is goodbye.

I’m not sure I’ll have much more to say (or time to say it) before I leave for my last tour around the state. I won’t have much internet, apart from my phone, and even then we’ll have to see. That means the next time I will be here will be the first full week of August. I know I’ve got plenty to say, plenty to do, but I think that for now, the world is finding itself again.

Please keep fighting.

Fight for your life, your right to it.

Fight for your love, your ability to give it away.

Fight for your rights, your unalienable rights.

Fight for each other, the ones who don’t know they need you.

Fight for peace and love and happiness and hope, because the world is made a better place every time someone believes that they make a difference.

But fight for yourself, because you matter-especially when others tell you that you don’t.

You do.

Here’s to a glorious road trip. See you on the flipside!

They didn’t know I was a seed.

“For a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, its insides come out and everything changes. To someone who doesn’t understand growth, it would look like complete destruction.” -Cynthia Occelli

This quote means so much to me. Especially that last sentence. Today’s been rough.

I set out with the goal of going to law school. And Friday I got my final letter. In the fall, no one wants me. After 10 weeks of waiting, I finally heard back with news that was crummy: waitlisted. That means that unless enough people reject them, I have been rejected myself.

I’ve debated how I want to say this-having typed up four different blogs and then trashed them. Because no matter how frustrated I sound, or how hopeful, nothing quite “gets it”.

You see, I started writing this blog on Friday, when I found out. I was so full of emotions that the words were pallid, flimsy. I spent all day Friday just moping. I mean, I was at work, so I didn’t mope too hard, but I moped. Saturday came the hard-hitting break down. All I wanted, all I’d worked for-gone. And there were a lot of deep questions that went unanswered. I reevaluated everything. I gave myself a one-over and grew frustrated. Nothing had gone the way I’d planned. If I got off the waitlist, it would be because someone else rejected their offer. I’d be getting hand-me-downs. Not how I wanted to start law school, to be sure.

And I woke up this morning. I barely slept last night-so there was lots of coffee involved. Over my second or third cup of coffee, I realized that I wasn’t as sad any more. I realized I was in need of a plan. So that’s exactly what I did. I sat down and got to work.

Most law schools begin classes in autumn. But there’s one school that I applied to for autumn that also has a spring start. I looked, and the application for Spring 18 opened yesterday. That means that I’ll be applying incredibly early (as compared to my other applications) and I will be closer to the top of the pile (meaning I’ll get a decision first). I know that that decision could just as easily be another “waitlist” or worse-“denied”, but I sat down at my computer, spit-shined my application and submitted it without a second thought.

It’s been a whirlwind weekend. I cycled through a lot of emotions, a lot of coping techniques and a lot of coffee. But I came out the other side. And I came out on my own terms. “If I can’t say I wish for this to my choices, I have the power to make different choices.”

I’m a seed. I was buried, and I burst open. My roots are coming out and I’m starting to grow. It’s hard, it’s dark, but there’s sky above me and that’s all I can ask for at the end of the day.

It’s Sexual Assault Awareness Month. And that means that my fight goes far beyond just myself. It’s time to rise up, for the greater good.

And nobody in all of Oz, no wizard that there is or was, is ever going to

bring me down.

Unconventional Letter

Dear Michelle,

Thank you.

Thank you for never giving up. And I know there were times you thought you had to, that there was no other choice. I remember all those nights spent alone, crying in the bathroom, hoping to end your pain with a razor blade. I remember the long days spent not eating, drinking only a cup of coffee in the morning because you felt like you might fall asleep in the middle of calculus if not, then rushing home to see if you’d lost more weight. I remember all of this, but most of all I remember how even though there were times you wanted to, you didn’t choose to die and instead, you chose to live.

Thank you for learning to open up again. After you graduated from high school, you tried to close yourself off, masking your feelings with words like “exhausted”, “the flu” and “allergies”. You kept everyone at arm’s length until you couldn’t take it anymore and you decided to make friends. I know that was hard for you, but I promise it’s paid off.  You’re about to find out that you actually love coffee dates with friends and trying new things.

Thank you for going off meds-even at the disapproval of your then boyfriend. He didn’t know you, you didn’t stay with him, and you really had to choose your own life for your own reasons. I know at that point, you didn’t even understand fully your diagnosis. I’m so proud of you for making your own way. I know in the future you’ll contemplate going back on medicine, and it’ll be hard, but if you don’t want to do something, don’t let the fear of consequences force you to make a decision.

Thank you for walking away from the poisonous relationships you tried so hard to save. You thought that if you just tried harder, loved more deeply, that you could fix them. But they weren’t the ones who needed fixing, and abusive relationships aren’t worth your time. Or effort. I’m so sorry you had to learn that the hard way. But you got past it with some ice cream and art. That was the first time you thought that you might be okay with being alone instead of being with someone who told you that you were always to blame, and that everything he did was to show you that you deserved no one better. You may have been brokenhearted, and it felt like your whole world was dying, but you left. You’re so brave.

Speaking of bravery, there will come a time in your life that you’ll wake up and be paralyzed with the fear of driving. We’ll work through it, and it will be hard for a long time, but please don’t give up. Living in the past, living with the memories of what “could have” happened is only going to hurt us in the long run. Yeah, this is one of those corny “hello, younger me” letters that we swore we’d never write, but I have so many things to thank you for.

Thanks for taking a chance and going out with that boy from high school that you thought was “too short”. You’ll drive each other crazy, but you have a strong marriage, and a lot of really hilarious dating stories that will get you through any disagreements you might have. You even got a dog (he acts more like a cat, and you’ll learn to love him). That boy will learn how to understand your moods, and even help you get through them.

Thank you for working so hard during your mood swings. No one requests to have bipolar disorder, but you’ve done remarkable things with it. You laid the foundation for such great things to happen for your future. But don’t think for a minute that it’s shameful to change your major when you get to college. It’s gonna drive you mad and you’ll feel so completely used up, but you’ll see that the greatest thing is going to happen once you walk through all the open doors. You’ll continue to struggle with food, but honestly, you’re going to love yourself more at the heaviest weight than you ever did when you struggled with your eating disorders. Just don’t go too far in the other direction, okay? Eating too much is bad too. Food isn’t a drug, it’s not meant to protect you from life.

I know that you know life is hard. But thanks for going back into counseling. In hindsight, you probably didn’t have to hide it, because you’re about to become exceptionally vocal about mental health and women’s rights. You aren’t stuck, you aren’t defective, and you most definitely aren’t finished. We have so much work ahead of us, and it’s all thanks to you.

You stuck it out when the world grew dark, when our mind waged wars against us and our heart got so heavy it might burst. You fought each and every day for life to be better, waiting for the day it all meant something. You kept going, even when everything screamed at you to just stop. I know my battles, our battles, don’t end with this little note. We have a whole life to live yet! And I know I didn’t say it then, but I’m saying it now. Thank you, baby girl. Thank you with my whole heart.

You got this, Shells. You don’t need anybody else’s approval, just go for it. You’re about to take your first step in an amazing adventure and you’ll be so surprised where it leads you. I know I am.

The sun will rise again, and so will you.

All my love,

M.

Walk Away

There are days which comes at me a little more harshly than others. I feel like although this could probably be glanced over, maybe it’s still important to get it out in the open. Who knows, maybe someone else will have a similar story.

In three days, I will have been married to my husband for two years. In those two years, we have grown as a couple in ways that I didn’t think we could. We now can anticipate each other: he moves, I move. We know each other’s schedules-not just for day to day life, but days that are hard, moods, all of it. It’s really nice sometimes, sometimes it’s really annoying. (Sometimes I just want to be mad by myself, you know?) But anyway, it isn’t that that bothers me. I love being able to say I am married. And watching people look with their disapproving little heads at us. So many people thought we’d made a mistake getting married young, but we’re stronger now than we were, and we’ve now seen each other at our worst. He and I believe that you should work on a marriage every day, and that having each other is a gift to treasure, not a safety net for convenience.

Around this time, a lot of my Facebook friends have also gotten married. I smile at each and every one of them, hoping they have a good life, a life full of love and happiness. I was invited to several of their weddings, but somehow never managed to make it any.I have a very real issue with new places, new people and large quantities of them. That makes me exceptionally frustrated when I receive an invitation and in a mania state say “yes, I will be attending” and then find the day of the affair that I’m mid depression, full of social anxiety and unable to get dressed in “street clothes” let alone make my way to a glorious event. I’m not making excuses, I’m just highlighting an issue I wish wasn’t an issue.

But there’s something else, which creeps into my heart and creates an emotional disease. When I got married, Ben was in a suit, I was in a cream colored dress from Victoria’s Secret.

 (It was this one, as a matter of fact. No, this isn’t me.)

Ben and I were married in a classroom at our college, by one of Ben’s Political Science professors. It was an intimate ceremony, my parents, his dad, his best friend and his best friend’s parents, my siblings and maybe a straggler or two from the university.

I’ll tell the full story on our actual anniversary, because that’s a really epic story, but here’s the part that makes me sad. The professor brought his guitar and played us a song-our first song as a married couple. It was Green Day’s “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)”. I actually liked that song before, and knew the lyrics ahead of time.

“So take the photographs and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial
For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while”

We came back from our weekend away and waited for pictures. We hadn’t hired a photographer, we just asked everyone there to take some. My mother took a video recording (so she and my father are exempt from this).

Every picture was blurred.

I know it sounds trivial. I know. And I’ve gone back and forth for these last two years about how silly I sound. But I have no pictures from my wedding. They all are shaky, blurred images of my backside, of the professor, of the group of people who were there. I have the blurry images, and trust me, they were blurrier as I cried about it.

So I look at Facebook, and all of my friends who got married and the weddings I couldn’t attend. I look at their pictures, the photos they will have forever. And I can’t help but get a little gloomy. I hope they all have the best lives they possibly could. But I also wish that I too had photos to share.

As I listen to that song each anniversary, I can’t help but be reminded of the lines I quoted here. I am left with the memories in my head. And my brain isn’t the most reliable of things, let’s be honest.

I told Ben that I was upset because when I am old and don’t remember who I am anymore, I will have nothing to show for our wedding day. That’s certainly half of it. But it’s more than that. I also feel incredibly jealous that although I know and he knows that we got married, I have nothing to share with my friends. I can’t show them how happy we looked, our very first moments as a married couple, nothing. And they can all show me.

So I made it my mission to take as many pictures as I could from then on out. I’m working to save up more money for my anniversary tattoo, and I’m going to make sure that although I have no pictures of my first moments as Mrs., I will have enough proof to show that it wasn’t short lived.

(And for those of you interested in the video, there isn’t any audio, and it’s only the back of our heads.)

 

May the Fourth…Be With You

Even with the current political climate, I will continue to blog about women’s issues, human rights and mental health. (I may do an expose about political climates, but at a later time.)

I recently commented (on Facebook) on a local news station’s announcement of the discussion of banning non-essential traffic from Ohio to North Carolina, because of the “bathroom bill”. Me being me, I had to comment-I love human rights issues (because they are opportunities to expand my awareness and activism). Here’s what I expected going in, and what I hoped for:

Expect: People to disagree, challenge my views.

Hope: I could change someone’s mind.

What I didn’t expect was the vicious content that would ensue. I will retype here what I typed there, and then tell you about the responses.

“The thing is, rapists and sexual predators have been coming after women and children for years, decades and no one has bothered to put up this amount of riotous behavior. It isn’t about bathrooms, just as it has never been. It is about the average person not understanding that which they fear. If it was their children, their siblings, who were transgender or transsexual, then perhaps the tides would change towards equality. However, with all this being said, I am incredibly proud to call Ohio my home, and Columbus my city. It is incredibly easy to cry foul play when you feel like your rights are being infringed upon, but the reality of the situation is that the rights of the cis- have always been safe. It is now up to the minorities, those who have not had access to the same rights, to rise up and cry out as loudly as they can. Freedom isn’t free, and equality isn’t universal. Yet. But with a little understanding, a little empathy and some patience, perhaps we, as the American people (and Ohioans!) can usher in a new era of acceptance, love and humility-putting aside the fear mongering, the hatred and the ignorance. Thank you, Columbus City Council. May love prevail!”

Now, yes. It does sound like a naive college student with liberal ideas wrote that. You’d be reading that same view point in all of my blogs. However, what I said was (in my mind) respectful, and reflected my true feelings. I didn’t name call, I didn’t stoop to low levels, I tried to remain calm in a conversation topic where tempers run rampant.

Some of the responses included (I copied and pasted-so any misspellings or poor grammar are as they were written by the original posters):

“What love? U certainly show none”

“Jared fogel and friends loves and thanks u”

“Pedophiles or rapist to pretend their transgender to exploit it. If you don’t think they will do that you need to take off your love cures all blinders right now. They are liars, manipulates and they will do anything to fulfill their sexual desires.”

“Where does this end, at what point do pedophiles get granted their rights.”

“Seriously, I think it’s just another card to pull, I have a male friend who is gay, he always says, if they talk to me like that, I’ll pull the gay card, if I get fired I’ll pull the gay card, that’s all I hear… Where the hell is the straight card? It’s all about control and money…”

“Play every last PC Card like a typical liberal. Call common sense “fear mongering” to try’n get your way. Grow a pair while your at it.”

Now, at this point I have to mention that my comment to the last one was (It’s my favorite comment):

“And if I did, in fact, “grow a pair”, NAME DELETED, would that allow me to use the rest room in peace? My career is in human rights, so you’ll forgive me if I continue promoting equality instead of pulling America backwards.”

I have been called a murderer because of my stance on abortions, I have been called all the usual things that men call women who are strong and opinionated. I have struggled with my identity and ideas in light of these things, and I have to say, I believe I have come out of this ordeal (and others) a stronger, more sure person.

I was asked if I believed that someone would willingly submit themselves to a future if they weren’t even part of the group. I had, at that point, answered that although I consider myself bisexual, I had played the part of “lesbian girlfriend” for several of my friends who were in a situation that merited my actions. So when I think of that question now, and try to apply it to this topic, I can only be reaffirmed by my ideas before.

I know I’m a very passionate, outspoken, opinionated individual. I know that I do my best to listen to other people’s ideas, and that I try to be respectful at all times. I also know that I have to stand up for what I believe is right. That’s what it means to truly live. And so I will not be hurt by the people calling me names, or making suggestions about the way I live my life. I will continue to fight for justice, as long as I live.

I don’t think that all Americans believe this way. I don’t even think it’s a majority of them. But what I do think, is that there are a large portion of people who have opinions about this and other issues who choose to remain silent. I can’t remain silent while my friends, old acquaintances, family members, find themselves fearing for their basic rights. I have plans, I have hopes and dreams, and because I ally myself this way, because I belong to several minorities (which will be a blog post on its own), I may be forced into some tight spots. But I choose to believe that justice and love with shine through, and I will not remain silent.

Big Bluish Black Thing

Today’s title is brought to you by The Lion King.

I wanted to step away from the somber news and do something a little more “fun”. I wanted to do a post on something that hasn’t happened in almost a decade: crazy planetary retrogrades. Now I know, it’s definitely not what a lot of people call science-or even believe in, but I do. And I think that if you are to understand a person, perhaps you should look at them as a whole, not just what they want you to see.

When I was little, my parents bought me a telescope and that changed the course of my life possibly forever. It wasn’t a high powered one, but it had little extensions and a star chart, as well as a tripod and two different magnification dials. I spent whole summer’s gazing at stars, watching comets and shooting stars and trying to “figure it all out”. I learned how to locate constellations, their names, their stories. And that is something that has stayed with me. I deeply enjoy the stars. They are where we all come from, after all. So it should really have come at no surprise when I started reading star charts and astrology maps and learned about the effect planetary motion could have on our behavior. And that is what I want to share with you today.

First, we need a couple definitions. Like retrograde, house, rulers, you know-the usual.

Retrograde: Having a rotational or orbital movement that is opposite to the movement of most bodies within a celestial system. In the solar system, retrograde bodies are those that rotate or orbit in a clockwise direction (east to west) when viewed from a vantage point above the Earth’s north pole. (Basically, when a planet appears to be moving backwards).

House: this are the 12 horoscope categories (I was born in December and am a Sagittarius)

Planetary rulers: planets assigned to the houses (Sagittarius is Jupiter)
Okay. So what was I talking about when I said a decade had passed? Well, turns out that there are a TON of planets in retrograde (appearing to move backwards) this month. And they have been messing with people’s lives, in specific ways.

The planets which are in retrograde this month are: Mercury (4/28-5/22), Mars (4/17-6/29), Jupiter (1/7-5/9), Saturn (3/25-8/13), and Pluto (4/18-9/26). (I grew up in the 90s-Pluto will ALWAYS be a planet. Period.) 

Each planet is in “control” of a house- Mercury (Virgo), Mars (Aries), Jupiter (Sagittarius), Saturn (Capricorn) and Pluto (Scorpio). This will either be a horoscope thing, or it is a behavior thing. Here’s the difference: As a Jupiter ruled Sagittarius, I generally have a fiery personality and am exceptionally loyal. As a general behavior, Jupiter is in charge of growth and expansion of a person. For retrogrades, we look at the behavior-not the signs per se (although, I’ll explain why you would look at the signs in a moment).

The behaviors that these specific planets are associated with are:

Mercury: communication, technology

Mars: actions, progress

Jupiter: unconscious knowledge, sense of self

Saturn: understanding, knowledge

Pluto: emotions, unpredictablity

When a planet is in retrograde, these facets of our lives are pulled more heavily into question-you may feel like you are fighting more because of communication issues, feel unsure about decisions made previously, rethink your education or life choices or just have spurts of emotions that comes out of nowhere. I said I’d explain how an astrological sign might come into play, and it fits in here.

A Sagittarius is a fire sign-which means (for better or worse) philosophizing and passionate. This (for me) means that I pour my heart into whatever task I decide on. When Mercury goes retrograde, I feel that the world is against me, that I have to fight everything just to get my proper options. And I usually have all manner of technology issues. When Jupiter (the planet that rules Sagittarius) goes in retrograde, I challenge everything about myself. Am I doing things properly, did I make the right choices in my life, am I headed inthe right direction? And with ALL of these planets in retrograde, I have not stopped questioning-I have debates about everything about my life. And that may be just timing, sure, but I think that it’s also because of the universe.

I do not think that retrograding is a punishment. It may feel like it, sure, but it’s actually a great life lesson. Sometimes you need to get a reevaluation in life, just to make sure you’re on the right track. And that’s great. Sometimes-in our current day and age-you need to disconnect from the normal hum drum of life and be forced to come to terms with your life, with your decisions. And I think that is a marvelously challenging thing. And while it may be uncomfortable, discouraging and painful, it is the most important, useful thing that may happen to a person. 

Here’s a screenshot of a quick Google search for more information:

A Delight

Yesterday was the last day of classes (unofficially) for me. I still have finals and I have work, but it is the last time that I will need to bring a pen and paper with the express purpose of taking notes. And that serves as more than enough reason to reflect. Reflection is something I do quite a bit, but since it’s the end of something and the beginning of something else, I think it’s worth it.

August 2015: Moved to the big city. Started college at the big campus. Was entirely overwhelmed and became a recluse, having frequent panic attacks and long periods of depression.

September 2015: Began looking for a job. Driving was non occurent. Stayed home as often as I could. Panic attacks frequent in car.

October 2015: Admitted I needed a mental health day for the first time. Anxiety levels still high.

November 2015: Found job. Made an effort to sit in car longer. Began more attentively budgeting.

December 2015:  Made resolution to drive more. Began working on deciding what I wanted to do with my life.

January 2016: Went to job and class, drove to the store only-with husband.

February 2016: Began to discover women’s issues as field of interest. Took LSAT for law school.

March 2016: Convinced women’s issues are “my thing” and received LSAT scores. Began looking at law schools.

April 2016: Drove self to school each day, narrowed down schools, began Operation: Educate Everybody

May: I guess we’re about to find out.

This summer will be hectic. And I will love every minute of it. I’m planning to get some serious balls rolling, including a new and improved list of resources, which will be just bursting with information for everyone. I’m very excited about it. This summer I will be working my absolute hardest to do something I haven’t before: acted on a passion. And it took more growth than I knew it would to get here. Now that I have roots, it’s time to rise and shine.

Step one of O:EE complete. Now on to phase two.

Your Own Reflection

It’s so easy for people to brush off the emotions of others. Why is that? It’s so easy to brush everything off onto the “bigger” piles of “patriarchy”, “cultural appropriation” and “differences” that we forget that everyone is just as much of a person as we are. Why is it that we are so willing to refuse the courtesy we desire to others who desire it too? I’ll tell you.

We never learned how to take others seriously, let alone take ourselves seriously.

Something you learn as a sufferer of depression is that you can never really know someone. That there is a metaphorical, semi-tangible wall that is built in between each and every person, so that eventually it’s like we’re all trapped in these impermeable bubbles of self. And the only things that can get through these bubbles are negatively charged thoughts and actions: judgment, violence, anger, shame, worthlessness. But soon enough, all those things push out whatever is left in your bubble, until you are filled with negativity yourself. You breathe it in, like the pollution it is and you become trapped. Imagine then, if you will, everyone being like that.

If the eyes are the windows to the soul, I think the glass is reflective. If you look hard enough at someone, you will almost always see pain. And who’s to say that that isn’t an externalized projection into an internalized emotion?

In my Facebook news this week, Jim Carrey gave a $200 tip to a waitress. And a state of emergency was issued by the leadership of the Attawapiskat after 11 members of their tribe committed suicide IN THE SAME DAY. An interracial couple was evicted in Mississippi simply for being an interracial couple. The water crisis in Flint, Michigan persists. And I know, you’re thinking, Michelle, what does Jim Carrey have to do with this type of news? Jim is one of millions who suffers from depression. His girlfriend died from it less than a year ago.

We may never know what goes on in the minds of others, unless we take the time to get to know them, their stories. I’ve been “preaching” for months about love, equality, human rights. We all believe some fundamental lie about ourselves-that there is something to be proud of by doing things alone. That we are inherently “less than” if we ask for help, if we reach out. I’m here to put an end to that line of thought.

You are not flawed. You are you, and that is enough. Do you hear me? You are not some horrid, wretched creature pulled up from the depths. You are a fierce warrior, battle hardened and brave. You don’t have to do this alone. You never did. There are others there, just beyond, who understand, who have lived that same thing. And they are fighting to find others like them too. All you have to do is reach out.

 

I wish there were more words, better ones, that allowed me to express these facts. But the thing is, as I have said on my Facebook page, it is quite easy to take Disney lyrics and make them more philosophical when applied to today’s climate. Just look:

 

I’ll take my leave with this one final picture.

It Got To Me.

I’ve got a blog scheduled for tomorrow (first time I’ve scheduled one!) that goes into detail about what I will speak on tonight. Tonight I am blogging as a mental purge. As usual, you can ignore it, or you can read it for what it is-me stumbling around, searching for answers. Today, though, I’m going to try something a little different. I present to you:

A Seed

I passed by the garden of the no longer living, their flowers an ashen pillared stone. I hear their whispers call to me, the wind bringing the weepings of those passed on. Regret thickens the air around me, my breath turning to crystals in my chest. A hand reaches out for me, the keeper of the gate claims I have no right to pass through. “Please,” I whisper, “I have already died while I lived. The feelings claimed me, the bondage of my emotions pulled me through the depths and I ceased to be years ago.” He eyed me wearily and nodded, his expression relaxing.

“It is so for many.” He sighed, the sweet tobacco smoke caressing my cheek. My path opened and I could see a single plot of earth undisturbed. My feet glided, the pain in my heart weighing down my steps, until I could barely move them. I reached my reservation, the tension in my body forcing my gaze skyward. I lifted my hands higher, the heavens leaning into my touch. I felt the sorrows of the years form rivulets on my cheeks, washing away the body I had outgrown so many years ago.

“Why?” My heart roared. “Why was I alone for so long? Lost in the ocean, I perished amongst the apathetic and the unconcerned. My blood was spilled for far too long, the agony never being relieved.” The sky above my split, lifting my chin as high as it would go.

“You had to enter oblivion to be made new.”The rumblings of sadness reached my ears just before the cleansing rain. With the last of my awareness, I watched the scars on my wrist become barky ridges. I closed my eyes at last, the sweet peace overcoming me as I’d begged it to for years.

What I had hoped for in death was given to me in life. The world which sought to bury me alive didn’t know that it was that very thing required to bring about the greatest transformation.

(Image Credit: Willow, at Wallpaper Up)

The story came before I found the photo.

Coffee Cups, Confusion and Compassion

Today’s title seems more like the one I would give my autobiography. (Which is actually a great idea-so if I ever write one, you’ll know what to look for!) Anyway, a little more seriously. Today was served by a healthy dose of the aforementioned things. I don’t necessarily know where today’s blog is headed, but I know I need to write it out. It’s gonna be an adventure for both of us, I guess.

I grabbed my coffee cup this morning, the sleep still clinging to me, unwilling to let go. It felt like a stay-in-bed-and-watch-movies-all-day kind of day. But I drank my coffee anyway and got to work. I’ve spent more or less the past two months being frustrated, confused, brokenhearted, angry, and a whole host of other things. I’ve spent a great long while in depression, I pulled into hypo, I’ve been swamped with homework, stress and just when I think it’s never going to change, I find myself at today. It’s a day filled with more necessary-to-do things.

I told myself when the school year started back in August that I was going to be a new person. I would be stronger, be better, be basically everything that I believed I wasn’t. And now, with a little less than a month to go until the end of the term, I have to take a moment to reflect. Am I any different?

On the one hand, I’ve only lost 14 pounds since August. But I no longer binge-eat. I am more educated buy a year. But I feel that I am nowhere near as educated as I need to be. I’m better at budgeting, and I haven’t paid bills late once. But I stress out more, and most of it is money related. I drink more water. But I still drink soda. I know myself more. But I’m still conflicted about who I am.

In just the past eight months, I have discovered my passion in life, my niche, my calling. I have felt more conflicted about it than I think I believed I could. I have found the worst emotions possible, so much so that they tasted like bile in my mouth at the mere thought. But I have also found great motivation to change those feelings into something that could make the world beautiful. I have faced adversity and smiled through it. I have faced my dragons and tamed them. I have made excellent coffee and shared it with friends.I have remembered things I would rather have left forgotten, struggled with my mind and come out the victor.

I set out in August with one goal: to get through the year. I had to learn how to adapt, to assimilate. I have never felt so alone in my life. But by December, my goals changed. I had to become stronger-a better version of me. And these past two weeks found me driving myself into (and back from) class THREE times a week. I went from being secluded in my own home to gaining great ground in just three months. But the journey is not ended. Because soon enough I shall be off to some distant land where everyone is a stranger and I know nothing.

It is that understanding that brings me to the last part of the title. You see, it’s so easy to get wrapped up in your own issues, your own pain that you forget there are other people suffering too. I have changed a fair amount over the past year, but there is one thing that I can quantifiably say has changed for the better: I care more.

Let me be clear here: I do not care haphazardly. I do not let myself take on the pain of others. But I am learning to walk the line between compassion and empathy. I used to make other people’s struggles my own. I would break for them as though I were them. And now, I feel for them, but I do so from my own standpoint. And that’s important.