As we've progressed in a modern society we have moved further and further away from mystery and magic that was once awed us in the past. This ultimately has brought about the need for a holiday that helps to bring some of that mystery and magic back into our lives, Halloween. October is the celebration of Halloween and all the wonder that accompanies it. Since I was a child, Halloween always instilled unto me a mysterious, yet beautiful feeling that I still can't quite comprehend. As I matured, I found that I was interested in that "unknown" of horror and terror. Why do we enjoy seeing others in pain, running for their lives from a deranged crazy person with some sort of blunt weapon? What causes us, as we mature, to watch these films which have potential to scare us? As children, Halloween is an exciting time because we get to dress the way we want and become our favorite characters. Not only do we get to step into imagination land, but we get rewarded with sweet treats in the process. Halloween, to the child, invokes imagination. As adults it seems our perceptions of Halloween shift. It is considered a "child's" holiday, but that doesn't mean we can't still have fun. Many adults choose to continue to dress up, and rather than trick or treat, go celebrate with friends. The purpose of dressing up doesn't always have the objective of fulfilling the imagination, but rather impressing other adults. I feel as though as we step into adulthood we don't always possess the same fascination of wonder, mystery, and magic as we once did as children. Halloween is my favorite holiday, in part, because I have never lost that mystery I find that surrounds Halloween even with the addition of horror.
It has been quite some time since my last blog, but as Halloween approaches I felt the need to share my
inner most thoughts with the world yet again. We let so many things spoil and ruin our mood that we often don't allow ourselves to enjoy our lives. My dad visited this weekend and it was much needed. I miss home, and the traditions that I partook in. Each year, for Halloween, I would go to a pumpkin patch, apple picking, drink and eat far to many things with "pumpkin flavor, have a scary movie marathon, go to a haunted house, and carve pumpkins. October wasn't just any old month, it was a month to celebrate this mystery, magic, and wonder that was so dear to my heart. Parties were never my thing, so on Halloween I'd dress up, get my reeses peanut butter cups, and watch The Nightmare Before Christmas. Many of the traditions I had in Chicago I brought here to Lincoln. I often have Brandon engage in these traditions with me. However, there are many that have been left behind and I feel as though I am becoming an adult who is starting to lose my sense of wonder surrounding Halloween. Excuses always seem to be made, and I have realized that, lately, I have made many excuses.
"I can't do this because I am too tired," I find myself saying most of the time.
In my mind if I think that Brandon doesn't want to do something, or if I'm not sure I should do something rather than asking I internalize and make assumptions for myself. These assumptions are not always correct, and have limited what I can and/or cannot do. Today, I felt defeated as though it was "too late" to partake in these loved Halloween traditions. However, it is far from too late to enjoy my Halloween traditions. I've already gone to a pumpkin patch and had plenty of pumpkin flavored treats. I may not go to a haunted house this year, but I will dress up and enjoy a scary movie festival. I had a caramel apple, but didn't get an opportunity to go apple picking. While I will miss out on a few traditions it isn't too late to partake in many of my typical traditions. One of the main things I need to remember is that life is about living. We only get one chance at life and when it comes down to we can't spend our lives worrying. Financially we will never be stable enough. Our loved ones will never do enough. We will never be completely satisfied with our lives, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. The struggles are what influence to work harder, do better, and be greater. If at first we don't receive what we desire, we must keep pressing on and trying again. My dads visit really put into perspective that I have focusing so much on "sweating the small things" that I haven't fully been able to enjoy myself. This Halloween season will be a wonderful one.
"When the houses came they ate up everyone like they were fishes saying come on come on it's the end of the world. Then I saw your face your turning skin into a dirty secret I watch the beauties and the fire and the fire burn the beauty in their eyes. Then I took the blame we layed in ruins trying to quote your phrase we're yelling "someone's got the answers, but I'd rather think there's nothing to be found". If you knew I was dying would it change you? If you knew I was dying would it change anything? So when you see me falling backwards down the wall that says I'm still alive, don't be cautious when I'm cautiously approaching on the other side. Everybody has their reasons, that's the reason we are all going to die."
One of the most touching, and ironically, rejuvenating songs that have blessed my years throughout the years was a song by Manchester meaning. I believe that songs paint pictures which help us make sense of our experiences and organize our chaotic thoughts. Throughout the course of our life spans we experience trauma, combat stress, fight endlessly to reduce uncertainty, and ultimately hope that our lives will be happy. So much of our energies are spent on trying to conceptualize what makes us happy that we fight so frivolously to receive this happiness. The happiness we ultimately believe that we deserve and we privilege our definitions so much we don't consider how they may be hindering or halting our progressions in lives. I truly believed most of my life that I could achieve this happiness and it was the hope that sustained me for so many years. The things that once made me elated with happiness no longer bring a smile to my face. The world was once my oyster, in which I could accomplish anything that I fathomed imaginable. The world has transformed slowly but steadily into the gray, numbing, and disheartening world that I tried so hard to paint radiant colors.
When my mother died a piece of my heart died along with her. As I pressed on and combated the pain from
my mother's passing I noticed that slowly colors began to be robbed of something. What was this entity stealing away the colors from my once optimistic, colorful, and joy filled life? The only explanation of what this entity was pieces of myself. I was robbing myself of my own happiness and as the world continues to advance the colors are limited. Some days I will find a beautiful yellow rose peaking out of a grey bush. It gives me a glimmer of hope. A feeling that things will get better and that I can continue to press on and my canvas will be repainted. But then, just as I feel as though there is a color peering out, providing me with a tool to begin painting it is taken from me.
One of the main things I noticed is that I'm unable to adequately stand my ground. I once fought raging wars for years attempting to make others understand the significance of something I believed in. These days I am so weak and fragile from all the fighting that I am like a fallen soldier who has nothing yet to do, but wander the desolate lands in hopes of finding one of my "fallen" comrades. Sometimes I pray to those who have perished during my battles, begging them for a sign of what path to take. I saw a glimmer of the light when I saw my students today and it was all stripped from me. One bad experience a day has taken it's toll and I am always "sorry." I am sorry for what I have caused. I am sorry I am the failure. I am sorry I am the one who is wrong. I'm sorry I'm the irrational one. I'm sorry I'm not smart enough. I have degraded myself to a point of no return. I have lost the ability to believe that not all things are my fault. I sit up tonight sleep deprived, dehydrated, fearful, and feeling defeated. I know that the morning ahead heads much work. My mind can't stop thinking. Why? What did I do? Why am I the failure?
Today I thought about the wise words of Manchester Orchestra. "If you knew I was dying would that change you?" So often we don't consider what life would be like without someone. I never really considered this idea in my world of beauty. If grey appeared it would be viewed as a beautiful opportunity to change up the color scheme and repaint it. That section was now an outlet for positive change. When you lose someone things begin to turn grey at a more rapid pace until finally you are unable to continue to renovate. Without the aid of others your picture can no longer be transformed back into that beautiful landscape you once loved. Your existence and life becomes less meaningful and the fight becomes increasingly harder to fight. Our life is limited and this thought does not cross our minds very often. Last night I dreamt that I was with my mom, but we weren't feeling pain or suffering. My mother and I were together in a world of color and beauty. It was just as my mom described like a "Thomas Kinkade painting" and I felt at peace. My mother was one of the few people who disappointed me in my life. She was always honest, open, and loving regardless of my situation. When I felt completely miserable she was always willing to do whatever it took to pick me back up again. Without her as a present part of my life I am left with few people to help me revamp and recreate my painting into a beautiful landscape. There is and will continue to be so much suffering in the world because of our inability to take the time to help others. One of the greatest joys I have is making others smile and the one way that I am able to accomplish that is sacrificing pieces of myself for others. It's a challenging task considering my current state, but I will continue to fight. I believe that we all have the ability to pull ourselves up with some honesty, love, and care from others. I hope that my future will be full of these and that I will once again get to marvel at the beauty and colors within the world.
Mom, I love you more than I could ever say and I just want to thank you for all that you helped me achieve in my life. If it weren't for you being such a present and active advocate for me I would not be where I am today. When I was sick in the hospital you were the only one who believed me, listened, and showed you cared. You remained at my bed side and without you I would not even be alive today. I wish that I could have done the same for you, but I lost you to a horrible disease that claims so many lives each year. I made a promise to myself that if cancer took you from me I would do everything in my power to help educate people about cancer and teach people the importance and significance of this disease. I promised I would fight to try and help people in hopes of one day seeing a cure exist. You were taken from me way too early on in my life and if I had known it would be so soon I would have treated you and appreciated you more while you were here. I will continue to fight and never give up on all I have accomplished because you are the force that allows me to keep pressing forward. If more people were as caring and amazing as you present in the world it would be a much better place and I want the world to see what an amazing woman you were through how I interact with others. I pray that one day I will be as amazing as you were and I hope that I will feel the love that you gave me in my day to day life.
As for the rest of my wonderful family and friends you all have been wonderful to me throughout the years. Dad you always knew how to cheer me up and our deep discussions are what sparked my interest in analyzing the world and it's processes early on. I wanted to absorb as much knowledge as possible and you enabled me to do this by giving me Moby Dick at the age of 7 (which was one of my favorite books growing up). As I progressed in life you taught me that dreams were achievable if you worked hard enough for them and never gave up on them. You taught me that you can sink or swim and sometimes to find out you just have to jump (I swam!). Nick, I don't know how I conceptualized having a baby brother at first. I thought you were just a toy to play with, but now that we have grown together you have been an inspiration. You continue to grow into a man and when I was being bullied in my childhood you always tried to include me even though I embarrassed you in front of your friends. That meant more to me than you could ever know.
Brandon, I love you more than words can describe. You aren't just my significant other, you are my family. I would do most anything to ensure your well-being. I have and am willing to sacrifice what I need for your happiness and I know that I am not doing the best of jobs. Just know that I work so hard to please you and I hope that one day you will entrust me with information and not be afraid to show me and share with me things. I am very lucky and privileged to call you mine. We have experienced some of the most tremendous moments together that some people do not get to have in an entire life time. I cherish each moment I am with you and when we are apart I miss being with you. My love for you grows stronger each day and I hope that we will continue to grow together.
The past often does define and inform the future. We can dwell on the past, but we musn't do such a thing. We should, rather, focus on how the past informs the future and what patterns emerge as a result. I have seen patterns emerging in my present that alarm me and frighten me. They have thrown me deeper into the chaotic black hole of greyness. I feel that the one main way to get out of whatever troubles you have is with a support system. My support system is small, but I continue to rely heavily on them. My dad, brother, Brandon, and my friends all play a vital role in my coping process. If I died tomorrow I would hope that I would leave the world on a good note, not necessarily a groundbreaking one, but a good one. I will continue to attempt to create color and I need the help from those I love.
Writing. What is the writing I once used to produce so eloquently? Words have failed me despite my belief that they would never cease to be a part of my life. It's hard to do that which you love when you feel pain deep rooted in your heart. Lately, I have noticed that people talk so much about how "unfortunate" life is for someone else. Each time I try to get my story in to make sense of my experiences I find that I am shot down.
"Oh, but look at how unfortunate this person is!" They exclaim.
I rarely admit this to myself, but for once I'd like to have someone acknowledge my unfortunate series of events. I have always given this hopelessly optimistic facade, when all I really wanted was someone to acknowledge my stories. How can one make sense of or feel good about feeling sad about a life experience if they aren't given the opportunity? When I think of my mother's passing I sit here staring at the computer, wanting to write about it. I want people to hear my story. I want people to know what cancer is and what it does. I want young adults across the globe to know they are not alone if they lose a parent to terminal illness. However, I find it especially challenging to write about this at times when people don't want to hear my stories. So I sit here some days crying to myself wishing anyone was interested in hearing my story. Longing so deeply for someone to tell me how my story does matter. What I really want is someone to give me permission to be sad. Not to tell me my story is retrospective, not important, something that I should just get over.
I was reading a scholars work that I admire so. He wrote about his experiences with cancer, which touched me. So often we forget that other people are important. It isn't just about how we live our lives, but the lives we impact throughout the process of life. Today I was shown a video about how video games are the answer. I would classify myself as a gamer, but I wouldn't say that's the answer. The answer to how to not "regret" death (which you will most likely die with some regrets) isn't in games, tv, or therapy. It's about how you choose to live your life and the time you give to others. People are always going to try to give you some magical equation on how to prolong life. Try to explain ways in which you can reduce the regrets in your life. Instead of trying to find some magical equation for a cure all formula we need to greatly consider what is important to us. What is important to some will not be important to all. The issue with people today is we try to generalize to a greater population.
"This is how you will achieve ultimate happiness that will make you die without these regrets."
My mom's greatest regret when she died was leaving us. She asked the doctors and nurses in tears "how am I supposed to leave my children."
My mom put so much into her relationships with her children and family. She didn't try to find a way to create a greater bond with us, but she did what she believed would make her happy. My mother died having lived a wonderful and full life. Her greatest fear in death was leaving us and how we would be. My mother was selfless, and unfortunately it is not easy to come by people like this. We need outside sources to be close with our families. We don't take time to listen to their stories or invest the amount of time we do into technology. I apologize that this blog seems bitter or against my hopelessly optimistic alter ego. It's hard to tap into that positive section of my brain telling me that "everything will be okay" when I'm not heard in my everyday life. I pray that someday someone will want to hear my story. Not just listen because it's what they have to do, but because they actually want to hear me. So often our stories go unheard and the stories that are heard are fiction, online, or in some mass produced area. Today it seems our minds are only able to retain or feel for stories that are mass produced and have numbers to back them rather than individual life stories.
It's been quite a while since I last posted a blog or wrote anything outside of my academic endeavors. I can't explain why I felt compelled to write a blog today. I am not able to tell you whether or not this blog will be as well written as my former blogs. What I can promise is that life has been kicking me down further into the ground. My optimistic self is having trouble fighting through the darkness these days and I'm afraid rather than fighting I have succumbed to flight. Rather than coming to this very blog in order to make sense of my darkness I have become a monster. Much like Silent Hill, I feel as though I am in some sort of nightmare and inevitably at the end of the game I am considered the bad guy. It has been exactly 4 months since I last allowed my fingers to expel words at my minds digression. Four. Four long months. Four months of ups and downs. Four months of wishing something, anything would change. Four month wondering where my life has gone so tragically wrong.
The other day I read a hyperbole and half blog. She is absolutely one of my favorite bloggers, because she always managed to bring a smile and laughter into my life. Her blog this time was about depression, and she too hadn't blogged in a long time. Being able to see someone who I thought was happy go lucky feel the same horrible feelings I do made me feel positive in a sick weird way. "You are not alone." I constantly tell myself in my mind. "It's just stress." What is it though? I reach deep inside myself to understand whether it's all just stress related. Is it deeper than that? Hyperbole had people reaching out to her and trying to help her "cure" her depression so to speak. One of the issues I have is the lack of people reaching out to me. Mixing these negative emotions with the feeling of isolation is perhaps the most destructive combination. How does one get out of isolation on their own when feeling this way? People always tell you to take initiative, but when you already feel awful and have lost confidence in yourself it's hard to do so. It's hard to try and care and put in effort when you can't even put effort outside of school into your own life. So I sit here alone day in and day out. Waiting for anyone to call me so I can do something every once in a while.
One thing I've noticed when you are experiencing such negative emotions, is that people really try to "fix"
you. People assume that it is something that can just be solved or go away. They don't ask how to help, but rather that it is not possible to help. You are recommended to go see someone, even if you truly believe that help does just the opposite. The one thing I know I need is a supportive group of people in my life. During hardship, my family served as the group of people who would help me. Living in Lincoln makes me feel isolated and alone. I have Brandon who does his best to help me, but it's hard to describe the same issues repeatedly to someone who has heard it all before. It is not easy to come up with new things to tell me and eventually you give up trying to. Society has dictated what "normal" behavior is. If you go against it in any way you are deemed "crazy", "unusual", "demanding". Negative terminology is used to classify you as something that goes against the norm. To become the norm again you must sacrifice pieces of yourself to maintain and achieve this normal facade that will eventually fail.
For those of you out there that have been dealt a bad hand do not forget that you are strong. It is easy to forget the strength you have acquired over the years when people classify you in negative ways. You may never be deemed normal, but you can't allow that to dictate your life. This has been a rough year for me and one of the things that I notice is that I've given up my fight. There were so many years I spent fighting the darkness. I was a light warrior trying hard to rid the world of the darkness that surrounded people. Despite your strength you may fall in battle. When you fall you may not get up right away. You may quit in frustration and not come back to the fight again for a long time. It doesn't matter how long you are down and out, but what matters is that you come back to fight that monster. It may take months of strengthening and preparing yourself to have to right skills to fight the monster, but you must come back and defeat it to progress on with your story. I have given up fighting and have tried to flee, but the monsters hold on me won't allow me to escape. It's my choice on when to finish the monster off, but for now I continue to try to run and have a lot of strength to build before I can successfully "move on". When trying to get back up, know that this monster may feel impossible to defeat, but that in the future they may not be as challenging.
o here I am four months later attempting to write a coherent blog that describes why I have been absent for so long. This blog may seem disjointed in sections. It may even resonate as an incomplete blog, but I tried. My writing is one skill that helps me combat these "monsters" in life. I have taken the first step and I hope that my blog will once again become the friend to which I confide in the most. The one place that ceases to disappoint and can only bring light into my life. It will take energy to continue to write and build the strength I need for this battle, but I am going to try. If my efforts are futile for now I know that in the future they will help me achieve what I need. I just want to say that I'm grateful for the group of people I do have in my life. It helps to have someone who puts efforts into trying to ensure my happiness by doing little things. It's nice to have a family back home I know loves me much. I just have to remember the party I do have to help me fight this monster and revive me when I'm down.
On my mind, in my heart held in your hands. Screaming. Break me, oh. Break me, oh.
I've learned that it isn't about the quantity of the words spoken or written, but rather the quality. It isn't always about trying to formulate something profound, but rather us vocabulary that impacts you the most. While listening to City and Colour tonight I realized that one of my favorite songs by them actually has the fewest words. The intense emotional reaction I feel upon listening the song is indescribable. A slew of thoughts races through my mind. I become the most in tune with what my mind and body desire. When I think of what should be said it often requires a lot of content. When I listened to this song I couldn't help but think why must we require so much content to be satisfied? Can't I love you be enough? Isn't telling someone that they will be okay earn enough merit for the other person? We seem to have reached an age where the lack of communication leaves us trifling with uncertainty. Is that all you have to say? Clearly you have something to hide. Well this is what so and so says, therefore you need to be saying such and such. It seems that our society has created patterns of communication behaviors that are deemed to be "appropriate". I've been reading a lot of literature lately on the idea of "dark" communication and how this type of communication can in fact be light.
I can't use the whole "I'm new to Lincoln" excuse anymore to trying to explain how I've changed and grown as a person. I haven't blogged in a while, because lets be honest I have been doubting myself. Tonight, I went back and read the proliferation of blog posts I've made since 2003. It's been quite a journey, but I always come back to this same place. The black hole of self-doubt always seems to drag me back in. As we speak it sucks the life out of me. How do we move past self-doubt in an age where media tells us to doubt ourselves? We are told to doubt our appearances, doubt our interests, and anticipate the worst. While doubting, we are expected to maintain a smile. If I have learned anything throughout the years it's that fake smiles only last for so long. The attempt to convince ourselves of who we are rather than facing who we are is a reoccurring theme of self struggle.
I used the I'm new to Lincoln excuse to explain why I was unable to find friends. "People here.... they just aren't like me." I'd say lying to myself. "Clearly Chicago knows what's up as far as life, and everything!" What I realized through these declarative statements, that the "I'm new to Lincoln" wasn't the real excuse. The real excuse was "I'm unfamiliar, therefore my self doubt controls what I'm led to believe." It doesn't really matter where I am living, or who I claim I have become, self doubt will always be a part of me. The real combative force to overcoming these feelings is understanding what I truly want, rather than trying to appeal to what others want.
Recently, I have noticed a trend in what my friends and other acquaintances have deemed to be "acceptable" behavior in a relationship. I've also noticed others that are important to both Brandon and I have tried to tell us how we should "run" the show for our lives. What I've realized is that this has limited (at least my ability) to combat my own self-doubt. If anything, the many lecturing words have created an even larger black hole with greater force to dragging me down into it. Don't you think it should be at another time? I hate when guys are indifferent and respond sure or okay to everything. If he doesn't express his love how can I know that he actually loves me? When someone cares about you they won't jeopardize your relationship over something like religion.
I've thought long and hard about what my friends, family members, and acquaintances have communicated to be recently, and what I've found is there is a high amount of content required to satisfy our relationships. We need to express every inner thought in order to satisfy. What about the more powerful and subtle hints at love? Do we really need to have deep conversations with every soul we have to have a powerful and meaningful relationship? Why can't we just think about what the other says before we begin to argue. What is perfect to one may not be perfect to another. The disclosure people have shared with me has made me doubt my own relationship, or even what is important to me. I feel a empty pit in my heart based on what people feel is "expected" or "dictates" what a good relationship is. I saw a picture of Brandon and I apple picking for the first time together and our first time at a pumpkin patch together. I saw the happiness glowing through each of our faces. No words could describe the joy I felt simply looking at those pictures and remembering the moments. Some of my best experiences with Brandon has been our quiet ones. The times we just enjoy being with one another and I didn't doubt anything. Even when there was an expression of sure, or okay I felt secure and happy. Being with someone should be enough, it's not about the words that are shared.
We want so desperately to live in these fairy tales that people have created in our minds. We are told our proposals aren't good enough. Our valentine celebrations aren't romantic enough. We aren't good enough friends. Why can't we just trust our hearts and not the expected? My mom wanted me to be who I was, and she believed in my writing. Even now when I doubt my skills I know I must listen to what my heart tells me. I am capable. I do not need to make excuses, because though I am newer to Lincoln that isn't why I have transformed to a more negative lexy state. It is simply, because I have begun to get dragged back down into that self-doubt hole. I am happy in my heart. When my mind over analyzes what I should expect, my heart is ignored. Don't forget what makes your heart happy, and what you believe works for you. Don't let others dictate who you should be and love.
