Beautiful Disastrous World You

The title explains my current chaotic state. I often say that chaos is something that I thrive off of, because it challenges me to make sense of all the utter confusion. Chaos as of lately has made me see the term in a very different, more dark light. Optimistic, perky, and lovely little Lexy has been feeling a tad on the opposite end of the spectrum lately and it seems that no one entirely understands the conditions in which I am living. I suppose it takes someone who truly experiences things in the exact same manner that you do to understand something and as I have continued in my education I find that there is no one experience that is the same for everyone despite them going through fundamentally the same experience. Does this make me feel alone? Somewhat, but I believe we can all make sense of the world in various ways to help us cope with the hardships that life throws at us.

Today for class my professor had us read a piece that to me seemed extremely open and vulnerable. It was written by scholar Pineau and was about her experience of birth and her mothers illness. I had read the piece a few days prior and felt touched and in awe of how much this woman disclosed. It was horribly graphic almost to a point of as dramatic theorist would say "grotesque". Initially I felt as though this woman exposed her mother in a gruesome, and unethical manner. Today, I reread the piece while I was at Northwestern Hospital waiting for my mother to get out of her 2 hour long catscan. I felt teary eyed rereading the very eloquently written piece. My experience began to change, because I could relate in that instant to her. Not as far as childbirth, but as far as the experience of death and seeing someone in that state. My mother is not in the ICU thank goodness, I have been there after nearly dying from an allergic reaction and it is the most depressing place I think I've ever witnessed. My mother however has lost a lot of her own capabilities and when she said they held onto any piece of their mother or memory they could I felt very much the same. I began to cry (luckily I was alone in the waiting room) because I felt for her. This work became more than just academic writing to me, but a heartfelt awakening. An experience that is in fact as grotesque and frightening as Pineau describes it. She to me exposed truth and I could feel her pain, her fears, everything that occurs in such experiences. The very information that individuals are afraid of exposing to the world. In that instant I wanted the world to see my story it became an inspiration for what I would like to do for my own work.

I'm abstract, complicated, emotional, and want more than anything else in life to help people. Do I dare say that this piece of academic work helped me? I do indeed believe that this work has inspired me and gave me a sigh of relief. It showed me that it is okay to expose my vulnerability. It is okay to expose the horrible and gruesome that people make you think you should never ever expose to the world. Why must we neglect our experiences and how we see them? These past few weeks I have smiled and told everyone that I was fine. That I would continue to push on and used words I often tell other individuals who are battling some torment within themselves. This was my own self defense mechanism to avoid being vulnerable to others in fear that they may judge me and view me differently.

I am not the girl who cries in public and pouts why me. I am the girl who takes a challenge and battle head on and who does not cower away, but the thing is I still am human. I do feel helpless at moments. I do cry when no one is looking. In class not too long ago I let my mothers cancer out. I unleashed something that I struggle with on a daily basis. It was difficult to have a straightfoward look on my face. To attempt to not cry and vent out to people who I admire and trust, but who really don't know me on an extremely deep level. I did not want to scare them I wanted them to remember me and think of me the same way they always had. I knew that the cancer disclosure would cause them to have a different view of me, but I did not want them to see how much deep hurt it caused me. So I played it cool and when I left that night and started my car I drove home with tears in my eyes. Why couldn't I just cry or talk about it? Why could I only say what was going on and not express my feelings and tell everyone thanks, but I'm fine?

Pineau made me feel okay to be afraid and to want to talk about such a tragic event. On top of my mother being sick my dad nearly died of an infection in his leg. I'm continuing to push and have now assumed full responsibility for my family. I must take care of one semi sick parent until he is better and another that is extremely ill and I am coping the best that I can. My parents often joke about how immature I am, but I think they acknowledge and know how much I have taken on to help them. I just want them to live happy lives and be proud of me. I want them to have a reason to fight and live on to see me succeed to know that they did not fail as parents, but did the most amazing job on the planet.

I am not upset that we lost our house, a house is merely a material nothing more than that. Having them is what brings me the greatest joy. Every moment I get to spend making memories with them makes me the most happy daughter and person the planet. My mom making silly jokes like that I drive like I'm in a "scooter and scoot around". My dad and my political debates over coffee. I cherish all of those precious memories and they have no idea how grateful I am for that. I attempt to show them by surprising them with little gifts. I wish that I was making tons of money so that I could help them, so that they wouldn't have to worry anymore. It is painful to see them worry, struggle, and be sick.

People my age take for granted those that mean the most in life. They do not realize how a parents love will never ever be replaced. I guess I get inspired by such simple things and end up ranting like such. I will end this before it becomes a novel. I have learned a great lesson, that I have to do what I love in life. I love autoethnography and ethnography and I am determined to study it and understand it as fully as I can. I want my story to be heard, I want people to be inspired like I have. More importantly I want to help those who feel afraid like I have so long. I want people to be able to expose the dark corners of their lives, because we should never suppress ourselves. It only causes the pain to build up before it becomes entirely too much to handle. Don't be afraid and don't forget who truly loves you. For if you do, you may miss out on a lot of beautiful moments in life, and those very same moments can never be taken from you. Everything else may be, but those will stick forever and be embedded in your heart.

I love everyone!

<3
Sincerely,
Alexis Zoe