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.
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.
Alexis Zoe
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