It's day three of classes. And I'm wiped out. Overexertion? It's completely possible, and even probable.
Today's highlights (this is my noncommittal way of telling the world what's up):
1. aesthetic vs. phonetic syllabication
2. Elizabethan vs. Petrarchan sonnet structure
3. Beef stew and peach cobbler
4. Social cognition
5. Sexual reproduction in fleas (nothing about flea sex turns me on)
6. Inductive inference, why we should let kids die from polio, and the stupidity behind trying to save old people from the swine flu
7. SPECTRUM meeting (kind of like the GSA)
8. Phil Wickham concert
9. SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!!
I am CLEARLY more excited about that last one; this whole college thing is exhausting.
Reader, I hope your life is beautifully simple. And if not simple, then at least not difficult.
Tomorrow's potential highlights:
1. One class, done by 9:30
2. Racquetball with Jake at 1
3. Time to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!!!!!!!!!
The weekend's potential highlights:
1. Ultimate practise on Friday
2. Mandatory Ultimate team meeting on Saturday
3. Arrested Development marathon (TBA)
4. Near-empty campus on Friday/Saturday night due to the mass exodus of kids going to frat parties, clubs, and bars
5. LOADS OF TIME TO DO HOMEWORK and get a little more settled in
6. Checking out the Chi Alpha group church services and small groups
In the meantime...lots of homework. And food, whenever I want it. There are some perks, I guess...
Bed...bed...bed...I can see it from my desk...bed...oh maaaaaan...
zzzzzzzzz
25 August 2010
24 August 2010
brief.
College is a blast. There's a blog on the way about this. I don't know when, but it's coming. Just gotta find the time.
Chi Alpha cookout tonight. Phil Wickham in concert tomorrow on campus. Meetingsmeetingsmeetings. Classclassclass.
I rest assured that millions of wide-eyed kids have done this exact same thing before me.
Man, I need a nap...
Chi Alpha cookout tonight. Phil Wickham in concert tomorrow on campus. Meetingsmeetingsmeetings. Classclassclass.
I rest assured that millions of wide-eyed kids have done this exact same thing before me.
Man, I need a nap...
14 August 2010
endless.
I feel absolutely infinite.
Like nothing anybody could do or say could possibly bring me down from this rush. This...well I don't think "feeling" really suits it. It's more like...like...
Well I don't know how to describe it.
Plainly, it feels like I could love the foulest, cruelest, meanest person on earth. Like there is nothing in me that could possibly hate or harm anyone.
It's dangerous to admit it, but...
...I feel like I can finally love again. Under any circumstance. Any condition.
I know exactly what brought that on, but it implicates a couple of people, some secrets, and lots of closed-door discussions, and so I'll keep those little stories to myself, but the gist of it is this:
Over the last two weeks, I have encountered more brokenness than I ever expected, from the people I least expected. Old friends, old flames, and even my own family members. It seems like everyone's just hiding under a gloss, so their real selves are hidden and replaced by something strong and pretty, or at least something that doesn't invite speculation.
But in reality...they're wounded. And they've developed clever systems to hide it.
In a way, this ability to love has always been in me. Maybe not manifested, but definitely always there. I've never truly hated anybody, though I have held grudges and resentment and bitterness against those who I felt hurt me. Even that is a thing of the past. I can't remember the last time I really held a fault against someone. Really. It's been a long while.
Looking back, I see that even at my weakest points, I still somehow always had a little extra to give to those who were also hurting. I know where it came from too, but that is a different matter. Ask me about this one in person, and I will show you.
In any case...
I don't understand why people feel like they have to be who they're not. Or watered down versions of who they are.
Having been there myself (on a great many occasions), I can reasonably speculate that it stems from the fear of rejection, or failure. Or even betrayal, I suppose. For girls especially, the fear of judgment.
And I think it's very sad. Sad that people have developed an ability/desire to hurt others. Sometimes it's an accident, sometimes it's pre-meditated.
Regardless, we hurt each other. And after we burn our bridges good and fast, we move on and keep doing the same things to other people...completely unaware (or at least giving the impression) that there is a very confused, broken person still standing on the other side of the ashes.
I don't get it. I just don't. It keeps me up at night. It haunts me everywhere. It dominates my mind, even when I'm in focused conversation. Everything about this gets under my skin. When I see people hurting, it infuriates my heart. I feel the injustice of it, in my deepest being, but I never quite understand the blind rage.
Maybe it perplexes me, that people wear masks, because I finally shed mine. It only took, like, eighteen years, but I did it. And of course, it's a continual process, so I expect I'm not finished yet. I'll let you know in a few decades.
Someone once told me...very recently, actually...that I was a nice girl, behind all the walls.
I think that's what set it off. That small, off-hand remark, and its particular timing in my life. I was never expecting to truly be myself again, and in a moment of what I then-viewed as weakness, I was strong enough to do it. Let down my guard, if only for a moment, and against my better judgment.
That one little comment sparked it all. At first, I reacted like I do...all distraught, huffy puffy, exposed...and I shut down again. But that comment just kept coming back and kicking me in the jaw. For weeks. Constantly.
So I thought about it. Prayed over it. Talked to my closest friends about it.
And I realised...well I realised that there's some strength in weakness. That even when I see myself as vulnerable and exposed, I'm also quite real and honest and alive. Unfortunately, my judgment was not sound enough to handle the shock at the time, and I walked (actually, I ran) away from what could have been (and could possibly still be, if I wasn't such a git) a beautiful friendship, if nothing more or less.
My ability to cope with my own conflicting emotions has been a war, but I'm fighting my battles as earnestly as ever. Maybe someday, someone will love me as much as I love them, and there will be nothing but loyalty, trust, peace, understanding, and affection between us. For now, I am content to love the world at large. God willing, my 'world" will eventually be a specific someone, but I've got so much personal improvement to do before I could possibly commit like that.
Whoa, where is my head at? ADHD. Geez. Sorry. This is another post entirely. My ability to exist in a relationship was utterly decimated, and I'm just barely rebuilding. More on this later. Promise.
Anyway...
I've tried it out, this whole "being open" thing. Mostly, it works. Granted, there will always be people who seek to destroy, to take advantage, and to hurt. But I think I'm reasonably well-prepared. And I'm definitely a hell of a lot smarter than I was when I started this love crusade.
The bottom line is that I love you. I don't know who you are, why you're reading this, or if you even know me. I don't care. I still love you. Because you're you. Because you and me, we still have a lot in common. And I don't care the things you've done, the things you've said, the people you've hurt and healed...it doesn't matter. I'm not keeping count.
I have the beautiful gift of forgiveness. And as of recently, I have the gift of forgiving myself.
I love you. And nothing you could possibly do would make me love you less. I am here for humanity, to be with it and part of it, but not of it. I'm here to spread love and joy and peace, which flows from the Father and through me. That's what I was called to do; it's a purpose I joyfully accept. And so I love you freely and without restraint.
My only hope is that by the end, you will love me, too. Because everyone could use a little more love, don't you think? A little more trust, a little more acceptance, a little more encouragement.
Then we can be beautiful again.
"How big is the universe?"
"Infinite."
"How do you know?"
"I know because all the data indicates it's infinite."
"But it hasn't been proven yet."
"No."
"You haven't seen it?"
"No."
"Then how do you know for sure?"
"I don't. I just believe it."
"It's the same with love."
All my love, Reader.
All my love.
Like nothing anybody could do or say could possibly bring me down from this rush. This...well I don't think "feeling" really suits it. It's more like...like...
Well I don't know how to describe it.
Plainly, it feels like I could love the foulest, cruelest, meanest person on earth. Like there is nothing in me that could possibly hate or harm anyone.
It's dangerous to admit it, but...
...I feel like I can finally love again. Under any circumstance. Any condition.
I know exactly what brought that on, but it implicates a couple of people, some secrets, and lots of closed-door discussions, and so I'll keep those little stories to myself, but the gist of it is this:
Over the last two weeks, I have encountered more brokenness than I ever expected, from the people I least expected. Old friends, old flames, and even my own family members. It seems like everyone's just hiding under a gloss, so their real selves are hidden and replaced by something strong and pretty, or at least something that doesn't invite speculation.
But in reality...they're wounded. And they've developed clever systems to hide it.
In a way, this ability to love has always been in me. Maybe not manifested, but definitely always there. I've never truly hated anybody, though I have held grudges and resentment and bitterness against those who I felt hurt me. Even that is a thing of the past. I can't remember the last time I really held a fault against someone. Really. It's been a long while.
Looking back, I see that even at my weakest points, I still somehow always had a little extra to give to those who were also hurting. I know where it came from too, but that is a different matter. Ask me about this one in person, and I will show you.
In any case...
I don't understand why people feel like they have to be who they're not. Or watered down versions of who they are.
Having been there myself (on a great many occasions), I can reasonably speculate that it stems from the fear of rejection, or failure. Or even betrayal, I suppose. For girls especially, the fear of judgment.
And I think it's very sad. Sad that people have developed an ability/desire to hurt others. Sometimes it's an accident, sometimes it's pre-meditated.
Regardless, we hurt each other. And after we burn our bridges good and fast, we move on and keep doing the same things to other people...completely unaware (or at least giving the impression) that there is a very confused, broken person still standing on the other side of the ashes.
I don't get it. I just don't. It keeps me up at night. It haunts me everywhere. It dominates my mind, even when I'm in focused conversation. Everything about this gets under my skin. When I see people hurting, it infuriates my heart. I feel the injustice of it, in my deepest being, but I never quite understand the blind rage.
Maybe it perplexes me, that people wear masks, because I finally shed mine. It only took, like, eighteen years, but I did it. And of course, it's a continual process, so I expect I'm not finished yet. I'll let you know in a few decades.
Someone once told me...very recently, actually...that I was a nice girl, behind all the walls.
I think that's what set it off. That small, off-hand remark, and its particular timing in my life. I was never expecting to truly be myself again, and in a moment of what I then-viewed as weakness, I was strong enough to do it. Let down my guard, if only for a moment, and against my better judgment.
That one little comment sparked it all. At first, I reacted like I do...all distraught, huffy puffy, exposed...and I shut down again. But that comment just kept coming back and kicking me in the jaw. For weeks. Constantly.
So I thought about it. Prayed over it. Talked to my closest friends about it.
And I realised...well I realised that there's some strength in weakness. That even when I see myself as vulnerable and exposed, I'm also quite real and honest and alive. Unfortunately, my judgment was not sound enough to handle the shock at the time, and I walked (actually, I ran) away from what could have been (and could possibly still be, if I wasn't such a git) a beautiful friendship, if nothing more or less.
My ability to cope with my own conflicting emotions has been a war, but I'm fighting my battles as earnestly as ever. Maybe someday, someone will love me as much as I love them, and there will be nothing but loyalty, trust, peace, understanding, and affection between us. For now, I am content to love the world at large. God willing, my 'world" will eventually be a specific someone, but I've got so much personal improvement to do before I could possibly commit like that.
Whoa, where is my head at? ADHD. Geez. Sorry. This is another post entirely. My ability to exist in a relationship was utterly decimated, and I'm just barely rebuilding. More on this later. Promise.
Anyway...
I've tried it out, this whole "being open" thing. Mostly, it works. Granted, there will always be people who seek to destroy, to take advantage, and to hurt. But I think I'm reasonably well-prepared. And I'm definitely a hell of a lot smarter than I was when I started this love crusade.
The bottom line is that I love you. I don't know who you are, why you're reading this, or if you even know me. I don't care. I still love you. Because you're you. Because you and me, we still have a lot in common. And I don't care the things you've done, the things you've said, the people you've hurt and healed...it doesn't matter. I'm not keeping count.
I have the beautiful gift of forgiveness. And as of recently, I have the gift of forgiving myself.
I love you. And nothing you could possibly do would make me love you less. I am here for humanity, to be with it and part of it, but not of it. I'm here to spread love and joy and peace, which flows from the Father and through me. That's what I was called to do; it's a purpose I joyfully accept. And so I love you freely and without restraint.
My only hope is that by the end, you will love me, too. Because everyone could use a little more love, don't you think? A little more trust, a little more acceptance, a little more encouragement.
Then we can be beautiful again.
"How big is the universe?"
"Infinite."
"How do you know?"
"I know because all the data indicates it's infinite."
"But it hasn't been proven yet."
"No."
"You haven't seen it?"
"No."
"Then how do you know for sure?"
"I don't. I just believe it."
"It's the same with love."
All my love, Reader.
All my love.
12 August 2010
scared.
This is a pretty personal thing to admit in public forum, but it's the truth, and I'm all about that.
It's this reeeeeally deep fear that just set in, like, yesterday morning as I realised:
Holy shit.
College in one week. Seven days.
WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH MYSELF?
And did I really just curse in my head? Bad Melissa.
Hm. I haven't had breakfast yet.
Those strawberries look super delish...
Because really strange things run through my head when I'm hungry and tired.
So yeah. That's the gist of it. I'm terrified. Because I feel like I'm leaving so many loose ends behind, like there are all these knots I didn't untie, puzzles I didn't put together, tasks I didn't finish, people I didn't reconcile with, etc.
I'm not usually haunted by the things I do, but rather the things I DON'T do. It's overwhelming. Like when I miss the chance to sit with that lonely-looking kid at lunch...guilt. When I see someone throw trash on the ground and I walk by...guilt. If I watch someone bearing a heavy weight, and I don't offer to help...guilt.
I dunno if this is a "me" thing or what. It's just built in, I guess. I've always felt this inherent need to help people...even when I myself was drowning. It was like someone else's weakness gave me a reason to be strong.
It's like...if I could turn back time and start over, knowing what I know now, I would. So many relationships I could have saved, so many friendships I could have created, so many lonely kids I could have sat with, pieces of trash I could have picked up, so much emotional baggage I could have helped carry.
I feel like I just wasted my time.
I was so busy trying to please other people that I didn't bother trying to please the One that mattered. I was busy working hard to impress my teachers, getting over-extended to impress colleges, infiltrating social circles to impress other students (hey, this one worked pretty well in the end...I walked away fairly well-networked), and driving myself out of my mind with extra-curriculars to impress my parents.
Let's leave the "blahblahblah to impress boys" aspect out of this, because I royally failed this one. Haha. Aw. Depressed.
So here I am. On the brink of what seems insane. Starting over. Somewhere foreign. Just me, myself, and my dead hypothalamus. Because my sleeping and eating patterns haven't been the same for a couple weeks. Stress does that to me.
I'm just scared. And you know what? ALL I WANT IS A DAMN HUG. Seriously. A hug. That's all I want. I want hugs, everywhere, from everyone. I just want someone to look me in the eye and tell me that I'll be okay, because I've worked hard for this, for years. Because I'm prepared. Because I'm not alone. Because they're there for me.
Man, I need to work on this dependency on other people thing. It's pathetic.
I just hate weakness. And I see this fear as a huge weakness. Like, why can't I be self-sufficient? Why can't I have a little bit of extra faith in myself? Why am I so afraid of people that can't hurt me any more than I let them?
I'm a coward. I act like a lion, but I'm a quivery little mouse under the mane.
More than anything, right now I just want to transfer to the U of A (I know, I know, shut up) so I can be close to my friends, close to what's small and familiar. Because I could flourish here. I already have. This is where I sank my roots in, and now I'm ripping them all out. I guess that was my mistake: getting attached. That's ALWAYS my mistake. When will I learn?
I'm uprooting myself, moving five hours away from friends and home, and diving headfirst into the grossly unfamiliar. Nobody's gonna visit me. Nobody's gonna call me. Nobody's gonna send me mail.
This post needs to end. Before I go say something REALLY important or personal.
Oh, and dear Reader, you can send me post at college at this address:
Melissa Maguire
Southern Methodist University
3140 Dyer Street
P.O. Box 753968
Dallas, TX 75275
I would love you forever and ever if you did. I already do. Just because you read this. You are special.
If you're ever alone, then your heart will know, it can call to mine. I'll be at your side.
m.
P.S. Edamame is lousy when it's only half-thawed and over-salted. This combination of panic and salt is gonna make me sick...
It's this reeeeeally deep fear that just set in, like, yesterday morning as I realised:
Holy shit.
College in one week. Seven days.
WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH MYSELF?
And did I really just curse in my head? Bad Melissa.
Hm. I haven't had breakfast yet.
Those strawberries look super delish...
Because really strange things run through my head when I'm hungry and tired.
So yeah. That's the gist of it. I'm terrified. Because I feel like I'm leaving so many loose ends behind, like there are all these knots I didn't untie, puzzles I didn't put together, tasks I didn't finish, people I didn't reconcile with, etc.
I'm not usually haunted by the things I do, but rather the things I DON'T do. It's overwhelming. Like when I miss the chance to sit with that lonely-looking kid at lunch...guilt. When I see someone throw trash on the ground and I walk by...guilt. If I watch someone bearing a heavy weight, and I don't offer to help...guilt.
I dunno if this is a "me" thing or what. It's just built in, I guess. I've always felt this inherent need to help people...even when I myself was drowning. It was like someone else's weakness gave me a reason to be strong.
It's like...if I could turn back time and start over, knowing what I know now, I would. So many relationships I could have saved, so many friendships I could have created, so many lonely kids I could have sat with, pieces of trash I could have picked up, so much emotional baggage I could have helped carry.
I feel like I just wasted my time.
I was so busy trying to please other people that I didn't bother trying to please the One that mattered. I was busy working hard to impress my teachers, getting over-extended to impress colleges, infiltrating social circles to impress other students (hey, this one worked pretty well in the end...I walked away fairly well-networked), and driving myself out of my mind with extra-curriculars to impress my parents.
Let's leave the "blahblahblah to impress boys" aspect out of this, because I royally failed this one. Haha. Aw. Depressed.
So here I am. On the brink of what seems insane. Starting over. Somewhere foreign. Just me, myself, and my dead hypothalamus. Because my sleeping and eating patterns haven't been the same for a couple weeks. Stress does that to me.
I'm just scared. And you know what? ALL I WANT IS A DAMN HUG. Seriously. A hug. That's all I want. I want hugs, everywhere, from everyone. I just want someone to look me in the eye and tell me that I'll be okay, because I've worked hard for this, for years. Because I'm prepared. Because I'm not alone. Because they're there for me.
Man, I need to work on this dependency on other people thing. It's pathetic.
I just hate weakness. And I see this fear as a huge weakness. Like, why can't I be self-sufficient? Why can't I have a little bit of extra faith in myself? Why am I so afraid of people that can't hurt me any more than I let them?
I'm a coward. I act like a lion, but I'm a quivery little mouse under the mane.
More than anything, right now I just want to transfer to the U of A (I know, I know, shut up) so I can be close to my friends, close to what's small and familiar. Because I could flourish here. I already have. This is where I sank my roots in, and now I'm ripping them all out. I guess that was my mistake: getting attached. That's ALWAYS my mistake. When will I learn?
I'm uprooting myself, moving five hours away from friends and home, and diving headfirst into the grossly unfamiliar. Nobody's gonna visit me. Nobody's gonna call me. Nobody's gonna send me mail.
This post needs to end. Before I go say something REALLY important or personal.
Oh, and dear Reader, you can send me post at college at this address:
Melissa Maguire
Southern Methodist University
3140 Dyer Street
P.O. Box 753968
Dallas, TX 75275
I would love you forever and ever if you did. I already do. Just because you read this. You are special.
If you're ever alone, then your heart will know, it can call to mine. I'll be at your side.
m.
P.S. Edamame is lousy when it's only half-thawed and over-salted. This combination of panic and salt is gonna make me sick...
03 August 2010
confused.
I guess I'm back at it again. This whole writing thing. Goodness knows that, when armed with flavoured water, no sleep, and strong convictions, I simply will not shut up.
I don't even know how to start this piece. How to go about it.
I could tell you a story, I suppose. Or begin with a quote. Or even write up a thesis statement. But I just don't feel like those would do the trick. I just want to rattle off my thoughts and feelings.
It looks like I'll start from my truest beginning: the heart.
This one is particularly aimed at those in a similar situation as myself, though the overall message is applicable to most everyone. I hope that, no matter who you are, where you are in life, you can take value from between these lines. (and it isn't often that I encourage people to read between the lines)
To put it most bluntly, I move to college in a mere sixteen days. August 18th. 10 o'clock AM.
This in itself is not a serious concern of mine. I have laid out the things I am certainly taking, and have left the remaining items to be sorted at a later date, namely clothing and snack foods.
Possessions aside, there is one thing left to pack, something horribly important that I have yet to figure out how to transport:
Myself.
Have you ever wished that your personality could be boxed? that you could be summed up easily and accurately with a few basic words? that your life's purpose was written clearly, for you to see and know and strive toward? that you could bullet-point or number off your list of priorities and thereby spare yourself the difficulties that come with decision-making?
I find myself in this place...wishing I could be compacted. Made to fit in with little resistance. No awkward angles, no wiggle room, no potential for error.
I don't know who I'm taking to college on August 18th. She has a name, some government-issued numbers, and a lot of potential. She has a few loyal friends, an affinity for success, and a profoundly strong ability to forgive.
But beyond that, I don't know who she is. She's been eighteen years in the making, climbing every ladder she could, making as many friends as enemies, and learning all the material her brain could handle. She's seen and done so much, and yet she lacks clarity and accomplishment.
I wish I were definite. That I could say to someone "I am [positive adjective]" and would never stray from that definition. I wish that I were true, through and through, and that my character could never be called into question by the things I say or do.
And yet, that's all I've done: called myself into question. Repeatedly. Especially this past year, when most of the decisions I made revolved solely around my own selfish quests for gratification and ownership. The couple times when reconciliation became a surprising option, I lied to make someone else feel satisfied...at the expense of my true heart. When I'm selfish, I lose. When I'm selfless, it's in all the wrong ways, and I lose. I just can't seem to win.
I've never hurt more people in my life than I did this year. I've made people my conquests. What do I have to do to win this person or this group over? What do I have to do to alienate myself from him, her, or them? How can I get what I want?
More than I've hurt others (though they might disagree), I have hurt myself. I have taken the very traits and virtues by which I aspire to live...and have used them as firepower. Call it manipulation, call it revenge, call it malice, I don't care. It is what it is. And I invited it, this ugliness, to live in me. I fostered its growth.
This girl that's currently having her life as she knows it bubble-wrapped, boxed, and taped up...she has the potential to be so great. To love fiercely and freely, to heal her heart, and to encourage others to do the same.
But she also has the potential to be cruel. She's proven herself to be a lot of things, most of which are far from noble and pure. She has wide open weaknesses that have destroyed her confidence, self-worth, and belief in grace. She coats her honesty with venom, and seeks to burn bridges once she's crossed them and gotten what she had crossed for.
I'm not the pity-partying type, but I feel sorry for her. And more than I feel sorry for her, I am angry with her.
Because there were times when people told her she couldn't do it...and she listened.
And there were times when people told her she wasn't worth it...and she believed them.
I can easily forgive those who have found themselves in the same places. I can forgive their faults, because I don't see them as weaknesses at all. I know humans are capable of trusting others too much, and that we are all capable of inflicting pain willingly and accidentally.
But I can't seem to forgive myself. I can't reconcile with these thoughts and memories. For others, it's okay. But for me...it's not an excuse; it's a vulnerability. And I never knew how to deal with it properly.
I don't want to pack up my insecurities and fears with me when I leave. Luckily, I am not attending a college where I know people who have watched me struggle. I have the benefit of anonymity, no visible past attached to my present.
My own private blank slate.
Naturally, that scares me. More than I've cared to admit to anyone, really. And loads more than I can convey through my words here. It's like having a small plot of land on which to custom-build your own home. You will either design something strong and magnificent and beautiful, or you will make a mess of things and construct something unsafe and ugly, upon an unstable foundation.
I feel like there are only two ways out:
The first, and the hardest, to be passionately in love with humanity, for all its strengths and weaknesses. To do what I believe the Good Lord put me here to do. To love others more than I love myself (that would be A LOT), and to love Him even above that. To go confidently and faithfully into the darkest places, to lean not on my own understanding and risk failure, to give up everything I ever thought I had to give what I never dreamed I could have, to suffer for the "higher purpose" that transcends the world we've made. And to do it namelessly.
The other, easier thing to do would be to quit. Lay down and let life happen, with or without me actively involved. To sit back and watch, to resign myself to the way things are, to trust that someone else will do it if I won't. This way, I would never expose myself for who I think I really am. I would never have to make that decision. I would never hand anyone a stone to cast at me. Can they really judge you by the things you DON'T do?
So I've got a choice. Just can't get a break.
Congratulations to the strong few that have decided their purpose. Good for you. Glad you figured it out. I think I'll eventually be who I want to be, but for now, I'm not so sure I even know what that looks like.
It feels like everything I thought I chose for myself...I didn't.
Whatever it is I think I am...I'm not.
Anything I thought I was made of...I eventually discovered I wasn't.
Not really.
Not opaquely.
Not solidly.
The weight of the bad choices I made this year is heavy and unyielding. To illustrate it: I sometimes feel like I'm flat on the ground, face-down, with all the weight pressing me into the dirt. I can hardly breathe, let alone get up and move forward. I feel the pebbles just as much as I feel the boulders.
It's choking me. I am suffocating.
I'm leaving in sixteen days, and I don't have space for all of these rocks. It's time to pick and choose what goes with me...and what dies when I leave it behind.
Where am I supposed to keep the darkest parts of myself? When can I start over?
Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm the only person who feels this way. Maybe I'm the only person idiot enough to say it out loud. As much as I mask my vulnerability and cover myself up to look certain and strong, I sure am doing a great job of exposing my fears in public forum. Ruddy inconsistency.
I wrote and delivered a speech, not too terribly long ago, in which I used the quote, "the beginning is always today."
I don't think the full meaning of those words ever truly sank in. It seems impossible, to leave who I've been behind, and walk in with no preconceived notions of self, no airs of certainty, and no cumbersome weight cracking my spine.
What will these people think of me?
What if I say something stupid?
What if I hurt someone's feelings?
What if I make a bad decision that turns people away?
What if they take me for a liar or a hypocrite, when I'm really just confused?
If there is one thing I have decided quite recently (and I mean today...which started yesterday morning, really...), it is to accept love as a part of who I am meant to be. It's the same concept of surrendering to surrender that I keep coming back to in all my writings, all my private journal entries, all my letters that I will leave behind when I die.
Sometimes, it takes more strength to say yes, than it does to say no.
For all the insults and accusations I've hurled, I never once thought it was anyone's fault but my own that I evolved into someone so cold and unsympathetic and wholly unpleasant to be around. Sometimes, I feel like I've deceived those who enjoy my company...because why would anyone want to be around me, especially when they know who I really am and what I am really capable of thinking?
Well, love is a verb. An action. A condition. A process. An evolution. And I've decided to stop sitting by, twiddling my thumbs as the world around me spins recklessly. The fact that there are multiple people that these apologies apply to is a pity, but a reality all the same:
If I hurt you, I'm sorry.
If I used you, I'm sorry.
If I judged you, I'm sorry.
But I never hated you. I hated what you did and said to me, but I never hated you.
I just don't have it in me to hate. To curse, to deconstruct, to insult, to demoralise, to discourage, to lay waste to, to destroy confidence in, to induce panic in, to break the heart of...I can and have done all these things.
But I have never ever hated. And if I truly seek to improve myself, then I never will.
Love is so much easier to pack than hatred, because it exists outside of the body. Where there is suffering, there is grace. Where there is chaos, there is peace. And where there is justice, there is love.
I believe that love transcends humanity. I'd probably chalk this up to my faith in the Creator, and my belief in His love for the Creation, but that's all very complicated and I lack a complete understanding. What I DO know is this:
God is love. And love is an action. Plain and simple. Just the way I like it. It should never be harder than this.
That being said...I have sixteen days to get a decent head start on the woman I want to be. I've put it off long enough, and I've let enough people make decisions for me, dictate what I am made of. Where there is light, there is also a little bit of darkness. My only hope for humanity is that we learn to run in the light, and never pause long enough for the darkness to catch up.
I am the responsible owner of a destructive past, and the proud owner of a constructive future. I commit to developing myself into a fierce lover, and I resolve myself to be strong enough to say no...but also to say yes. I promise myself that I will only take steps forward, and will stop dwelling so ashamedly in the past.
I believe in love.
And I think I finally believe in myself.
"The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change." -Carl Rogers
I don't even know how to start this piece. How to go about it.
I could tell you a story, I suppose. Or begin with a quote. Or even write up a thesis statement. But I just don't feel like those would do the trick. I just want to rattle off my thoughts and feelings.
It looks like I'll start from my truest beginning: the heart.
This one is particularly aimed at those in a similar situation as myself, though the overall message is applicable to most everyone. I hope that, no matter who you are, where you are in life, you can take value from between these lines. (and it isn't often that I encourage people to read between the lines)
To put it most bluntly, I move to college in a mere sixteen days. August 18th. 10 o'clock AM.
This in itself is not a serious concern of mine. I have laid out the things I am certainly taking, and have left the remaining items to be sorted at a later date, namely clothing and snack foods.
Possessions aside, there is one thing left to pack, something horribly important that I have yet to figure out how to transport:
Myself.
Have you ever wished that your personality could be boxed? that you could be summed up easily and accurately with a few basic words? that your life's purpose was written clearly, for you to see and know and strive toward? that you could bullet-point or number off your list of priorities and thereby spare yourself the difficulties that come with decision-making?
I find myself in this place...wishing I could be compacted. Made to fit in with little resistance. No awkward angles, no wiggle room, no potential for error.
I don't know who I'm taking to college on August 18th. She has a name, some government-issued numbers, and a lot of potential. She has a few loyal friends, an affinity for success, and a profoundly strong ability to forgive.
But beyond that, I don't know who she is. She's been eighteen years in the making, climbing every ladder she could, making as many friends as enemies, and learning all the material her brain could handle. She's seen and done so much, and yet she lacks clarity and accomplishment.
I wish I were definite. That I could say to someone "I am [positive adjective]" and would never stray from that definition. I wish that I were true, through and through, and that my character could never be called into question by the things I say or do.
And yet, that's all I've done: called myself into question. Repeatedly. Especially this past year, when most of the decisions I made revolved solely around my own selfish quests for gratification and ownership. The couple times when reconciliation became a surprising option, I lied to make someone else feel satisfied...at the expense of my true heart. When I'm selfish, I lose. When I'm selfless, it's in all the wrong ways, and I lose. I just can't seem to win.
I've never hurt more people in my life than I did this year. I've made people my conquests. What do I have to do to win this person or this group over? What do I have to do to alienate myself from him, her, or them? How can I get what I want?
More than I've hurt others (though they might disagree), I have hurt myself. I have taken the very traits and virtues by which I aspire to live...and have used them as firepower. Call it manipulation, call it revenge, call it malice, I don't care. It is what it is. And I invited it, this ugliness, to live in me. I fostered its growth.
This girl that's currently having her life as she knows it bubble-wrapped, boxed, and taped up...she has the potential to be so great. To love fiercely and freely, to heal her heart, and to encourage others to do the same.
But she also has the potential to be cruel. She's proven herself to be a lot of things, most of which are far from noble and pure. She has wide open weaknesses that have destroyed her confidence, self-worth, and belief in grace. She coats her honesty with venom, and seeks to burn bridges once she's crossed them and gotten what she had crossed for.
I'm not the pity-partying type, but I feel sorry for her. And more than I feel sorry for her, I am angry with her.
Because there were times when people told her she couldn't do it...and she listened.
And there were times when people told her she wasn't worth it...and she believed them.
I can easily forgive those who have found themselves in the same places. I can forgive their faults, because I don't see them as weaknesses at all. I know humans are capable of trusting others too much, and that we are all capable of inflicting pain willingly and accidentally.
But I can't seem to forgive myself. I can't reconcile with these thoughts and memories. For others, it's okay. But for me...it's not an excuse; it's a vulnerability. And I never knew how to deal with it properly.
I don't want to pack up my insecurities and fears with me when I leave. Luckily, I am not attending a college where I know people who have watched me struggle. I have the benefit of anonymity, no visible past attached to my present.
My own private blank slate.
Naturally, that scares me. More than I've cared to admit to anyone, really. And loads more than I can convey through my words here. It's like having a small plot of land on which to custom-build your own home. You will either design something strong and magnificent and beautiful, or you will make a mess of things and construct something unsafe and ugly, upon an unstable foundation.
I feel like there are only two ways out:
The first, and the hardest, to be passionately in love with humanity, for all its strengths and weaknesses. To do what I believe the Good Lord put me here to do. To love others more than I love myself (that would be A LOT), and to love Him even above that. To go confidently and faithfully into the darkest places, to lean not on my own understanding and risk failure, to give up everything I ever thought I had to give what I never dreamed I could have, to suffer for the "higher purpose" that transcends the world we've made. And to do it namelessly.
The other, easier thing to do would be to quit. Lay down and let life happen, with or without me actively involved. To sit back and watch, to resign myself to the way things are, to trust that someone else will do it if I won't. This way, I would never expose myself for who I think I really am. I would never have to make that decision. I would never hand anyone a stone to cast at me. Can they really judge you by the things you DON'T do?
So I've got a choice. Just can't get a break.
Congratulations to the strong few that have decided their purpose. Good for you. Glad you figured it out. I think I'll eventually be who I want to be, but for now, I'm not so sure I even know what that looks like.
It feels like everything I thought I chose for myself...I didn't.
Whatever it is I think I am...I'm not.
Anything I thought I was made of...I eventually discovered I wasn't.
Not really.
Not opaquely.
Not solidly.
The weight of the bad choices I made this year is heavy and unyielding. To illustrate it: I sometimes feel like I'm flat on the ground, face-down, with all the weight pressing me into the dirt. I can hardly breathe, let alone get up and move forward. I feel the pebbles just as much as I feel the boulders.
It's choking me. I am suffocating.
I'm leaving in sixteen days, and I don't have space for all of these rocks. It's time to pick and choose what goes with me...and what dies when I leave it behind.
Where am I supposed to keep the darkest parts of myself? When can I start over?
Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm the only person who feels this way. Maybe I'm the only person idiot enough to say it out loud. As much as I mask my vulnerability and cover myself up to look certain and strong, I sure am doing a great job of exposing my fears in public forum. Ruddy inconsistency.
I wrote and delivered a speech, not too terribly long ago, in which I used the quote, "the beginning is always today."
I don't think the full meaning of those words ever truly sank in. It seems impossible, to leave who I've been behind, and walk in with no preconceived notions of self, no airs of certainty, and no cumbersome weight cracking my spine.
What will these people think of me?
What if I say something stupid?
What if I hurt someone's feelings?
What if I make a bad decision that turns people away?
What if they take me for a liar or a hypocrite, when I'm really just confused?
If there is one thing I have decided quite recently (and I mean today...which started yesterday morning, really...), it is to accept love as a part of who I am meant to be. It's the same concept of surrendering to surrender that I keep coming back to in all my writings, all my private journal entries, all my letters that I will leave behind when I die.
Sometimes, it takes more strength to say yes, than it does to say no.
For all the insults and accusations I've hurled, I never once thought it was anyone's fault but my own that I evolved into someone so cold and unsympathetic and wholly unpleasant to be around. Sometimes, I feel like I've deceived those who enjoy my company...because why would anyone want to be around me, especially when they know who I really am and what I am really capable of thinking?
Well, love is a verb. An action. A condition. A process. An evolution. And I've decided to stop sitting by, twiddling my thumbs as the world around me spins recklessly. The fact that there are multiple people that these apologies apply to is a pity, but a reality all the same:
If I hurt you, I'm sorry.
If I used you, I'm sorry.
If I judged you, I'm sorry.
But I never hated you. I hated what you did and said to me, but I never hated you.
I just don't have it in me to hate. To curse, to deconstruct, to insult, to demoralise, to discourage, to lay waste to, to destroy confidence in, to induce panic in, to break the heart of...I can and have done all these things.
But I have never ever hated. And if I truly seek to improve myself, then I never will.
Love is so much easier to pack than hatred, because it exists outside of the body. Where there is suffering, there is grace. Where there is chaos, there is peace. And where there is justice, there is love.
I believe that love transcends humanity. I'd probably chalk this up to my faith in the Creator, and my belief in His love for the Creation, but that's all very complicated and I lack a complete understanding. What I DO know is this:
God is love. And love is an action. Plain and simple. Just the way I like it. It should never be harder than this.
That being said...I have sixteen days to get a decent head start on the woman I want to be. I've put it off long enough, and I've let enough people make decisions for me, dictate what I am made of. Where there is light, there is also a little bit of darkness. My only hope for humanity is that we learn to run in the light, and never pause long enough for the darkness to catch up.
I am the responsible owner of a destructive past, and the proud owner of a constructive future. I commit to developing myself into a fierce lover, and I resolve myself to be strong enough to say no...but also to say yes. I promise myself that I will only take steps forward, and will stop dwelling so ashamedly in the past.
I believe in love.
And I think I finally believe in myself.
"The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change." -Carl Rogers
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