Human

I'm not sure who's reading this little blog of mine. Perhaps complete strangers, happening upon these pages after random Google searches, perhaps people I know. Either way, I can see pageviews and while some posts feel like top-secret diary entries, part of me likes knowing that someone out there is reading the words I write. This is one of those posts where part of me hopes nobody ever sees it and the other part hopes the whole world reads it because what I feel, what's going on in my little world, are pure and real and raw. I'm so very human.

I'm not sure if my mom meant to tell me this way, or if she thought she had already told me, but she handed me a piece of paper (an application for financial aid) that contained the words "her (my) father is filing for bankruptcy." Anger. Fear. Embarrassment. I immediately got online and researched more about this concept that I'd only seen in movies or heard of when referring to Twinkies. More fear. Will he be living in a tent for the rest of his life? Google never answered that one for me. I'm still wondering. I just want this money shit to be over. I keep telling myself: these are not. your. problems. But they kind of are. I just have no control over them and I need to accept that and move on.

On another note, my Poppy girl, my very first and sweetest dog, is dying. Frequent seizures and couldn't get up tonight. I know it will be soon. Death is inevitable. It's just so damn hard. I just want to hold her and tell her I love her a million times and tell her that she made going over to that house bearable for so many years. I love her for that. I love her velvet black ears and her deep, throaty bark. I love the way she jumps like a spring when she hears the word "walk." And I hate, I fucking hate with every fiber of my being, the fact that I haven't seen her in MONTHS and probably will not see her again because I cannot get myself to go over there with those people there. That's vague, I know, but that issue deserves its own post. I just still can't get over the way things have turned out. When I sort some things out in my head, I'll be back here, hopefully with a more positive post. Thanks for reading.

it's all a little too much

I cried tonight. I cried because tomorrow is Friday and because the thought of one.more.day makes me cringe.  I cried because when I called work to explain that "I distinctly remember asking for Sunday off" and the response I got was that "That's a blackout day because it's Columbus weekend so you'll have to find someone to cover your shift" was not what I wanted to hear. I'm sick of missing out on what feels like everything just because of work. I'm sick of the feeling of loneliness that overtakes my body and mind when I'm up doing homework in the wee hours because goddammit, I procrastinated. I cried because I miss my sister and my brother and my dad. I cried because I no longer have a dentist because my dad never paid the bill. I cried because when I looked in the fridge this morning, there was next to nothing and I will go broke from buying school lunch every single day. I cried because I'm overtired and I'm overwhelmed and at the moment, life seems like a little too much to handle. And those last few tears I cried were because I'm surrounded by a lot of love and soon that love will win and I will be happy again.

on why this has been the best summer of my life

In August, I often take some time to reflect on my summer--the good, the bad and all that falls in between. And, upon reflection, I almost always declare that "this was the best summer of my life." But thinking back to all the summers that I can actually remember, I'm pretty sure this really has been my favorite summer. It has been a two month long celebration of all that is good in life. It feels like June was eons ago, yet I also feel like summer has flown by. It's overwhelming really, the gratefulness I feel for this life. I love the balance I had, between work and play. My work in July was play and my work in August was certainly not play, but it was balanced out by play. I made it out to Cliff Island this summer, where I relived my childhood; Chebeague, where I created eternal memories; and Peaks, where I explored new territory. I went camping three times (more this summer than in the past ten years)--on a beach, in the woods and in a field. I fell in love with the ocean all over again, with the earth beneath my feet and with the sun that browned my skin. I sat around campfires after barbecues and through laughter and tears, shared my heart with friends. I ate out way more than I should have and I biked around town aimlessly, because I could. I pushed aside my fears, worries and burdens and I lived big. I enjoyed myself this summer.

I ended this summer with a plethora of goodbyes. A few of my closest friends have left for great adventures. I miss them already, but know they are where they need to be at this stage in their life. The pessimist in me wonders if our promises of lifelong friendships will be kept, but my head tells me "of course you will keep them!" and my heart tells me that either way, I'm better for having known them.

I begin my senior year in just one day. I don't know whether to be horrified or overjoyed at how fast time seems to be flying. Wasn't I just a freshman yesterday? I'm mostly excited. This is a significant chapter of my life and I want to live it well. My main goal for this year though? Laughter. To quote Daughtry, "All that I'm after is a life full of laughter."

Alive

I'm feeling alive this summer, more than ever before. With each breath, I'm aware of my chest heaving up and down, and with each step, I feel the earth beneath my feet, a constant reminder of where I am grounded. I feel present, here. I paused everything for a minute today and felt instantly grateful for not feeling an ounce of physical pain. A major blessing in that moment--a life nearly free of physical pain. Without that cut, that burn, that break, that earache, I can focus on any mental and emotional weight. My burdens are small in the grand scheme--present but small--and for that I am lucky. If only I could remember that in times of great distress...my burdens are small.

a few minutes into the movie i look down. leg, lots of leg. contorted, smooshed, flattened on the table. cellulite. fat. i am fully aware of it for the rest of the film. on my mind, constantly. why? i think. how? i can't worry about that now. i must find the best angle, i think. i can't let them see all this. and before i know it, this comment comes, the one i don't need to hear. loud and clear. and i wait til they leave and i run to my bed and cry into my blanket and i wonder what the fuck is wrong with me and i go to bed.

part 2: finding out about her

"Daddy, what's this?," I asked, handing him a soft, long nightgown covered in some christmasy pattern. Before I even got a response, he was practically dragging me across his small apartment, through the computer room, through the kitchen and into the tiny bathroom that was lined with yellow linoleum floors.

I was the last to find out.

He sat me atop the toilet and pulled a chair in from the kitchen for himself. He was vague--"just the nightgown of a friend," he told me. "A girlfriend?" I asked. "Yes." I proceeded to ask more questions--all so naive--about her name, where she lived, if she had any animals, if I would ever meet her, etc. I wasn't angry, as I would be now. I was curious and perhaps a little confused. It had only been a matter of months since he'd moved out.

I went along with it, just as I had the separation, but I wondered, how could he love anyone other than mommy? Gone was any possibility of my parents getting back together. In a way, it offered me a sense of closure but at the same time, the hole in my heart grew. Nobody prepared me for that. It came at me like an impossible to catch fastball and instead of stretching my arm out to catch it, I let it hit my bare hand and drop to the ground.

All is well

So my little plan to "share my story" wasn't as feasible as I expected. I've got some more processing to do and then I'll be back at it. For now I'll just talk about the present. How I have eight days of school left, I do not know. I honestly didn't think I would make it through this year! When I step back for just a mere second, I see such beauty in this year. There was growth in so many ways so regardless of my grades or the gray hairs which I may or may not have gotten, I'd say this year has been a success. I've gained a greater appreciation for my family, for friendship, for my amazing education and for life, which has thrown so many wonderful opportunities my way. I feel like I can do anything, like my future is mine to create. I'm just so excited for life and for living and for each new beginning that will in some way shape who I am.

Life, bring it on.

Part I: Since when do we have family meetings?

Homework is calling, but this blank page is calling louder. I need to write, to share my story. I'm assuming nobody will find this (but clearly you found it if you are reading it now), but I just need to say: this isn't for you. This is for me. ALL for me. To figure out why I am who I am, to really get to know myself. I need to remember the past, and while it only contains 16 years, memory is selective. So this won't be easy, I know that. I'm not going to start at the very beginning. I don't have time for that! But if I recall correctly, childhood was grand--full, rich, happy.


Henry (11) and I (7) were in the midst of building one of our infamous couch cushion forts with the ratty ol' salmon colored couch. It was the weekend and it seemed like any other weekend day filled with play. "Henry and Sophie, we're having a family meeting, come sit down," Mom said calmly. A family meeting? Since when do we have family meetings? Henry and I sat Indian style on the floor while Mom and Dad sat on a couch in front of us. They were about to tell us something that no parent ever wants to tell their kids, and something no kid ever wants to hear. Mom started, "Your dad and I have something we need to tell you..." There was a long pause as I watched her bottom lip quiver and tears start rolling down her cheeks in slow motion. "Your Mom and I love you both and Lucy very much. However, we're getting divorced--separated. Taking a break from each other, spending time apart and it's not your fault," Dad finished. My little seven year old heart sank. Shock. Confusion. Did I hear them wrong? Separation? Is that really what they mean? I looked down at the floor during the next long pause. When I looked up, Mom's eyes were saying sorry and asking for forgiveness. Dad's eyes welled up with tears. I examined their faces, not knowing what the future held. Mom composed herself, "Dad's going to move out for a little while, and we'll see how things go." "So it might not be forever?," I asked. "Right, we'll see...," she said. I wanted her to say no, of course it won't be forever, this is just temporary, but that wasn't the response I got. I reassured my young self, told myself that it might not be forever, that my mommy and daddy's marriage hadn't totally gone down the drain, but I knew better. And at that, the meeting was over. I remember having more questions, but not being able to ask them, in fear of getting more answers I wasn't ready to hear. I didn't cry a single tear that day, but my soul felt crushed. That family meeting (which was missing a member of the family!) is the last memory I have of Mom and Dad together. It was forever, just as I had known deep down.

Happiness

Today is a good day. I'm sitting on the second floor of a Starbucks in Georgetown, DC, peering out the door at those sitting on the outdoor deck. There's some cute guy reading a book with one foot up on the chair next to him, and a sweet elderly couple just out enjoying this beautiful weather. I should be doing homework right now, but I just don't have the drive. It's vacation so I'm letting it slide.

I'm in the midst of these years where I'm supposed to be finding myself. At least I think that's what I'm supposed to be doing, and I'd say I'm on my way. The road is long, for god's sake! But man is it good. As I look back on this year--junior year--I can pinpoint some of the rougher times. They sure have been present, but so have the good. I hope that I'll look back on this year with a light, happy heart and be grateful for all that was, for all that is. It's amazing, knowing that I can be anyone who I want to be, but it's also so difficult being real and being myself, instead of this person I want to be. Trying to stay true, is what I'm doing. True to my family and to my friends who are so honest and beautiful, and who are on this journey with me. Also, I'm try to remind myself as often as possible that a.) the world doesn't revolve around me and b.) I'm not in this alone. Two very crucial parts of life, I think. Anyway, my point is: life is crazy. This whole living thing! Insanity. And I'm just doing my best, at least I'd like to think I am. Doing my best when I can. How's that? Better.

While this coming Monday means back-to-school and probably a few "this is all too much" tears, today is a good day, and I'm going to enjoy it, goddammit.

Be still, my heart.

Trying so hard to not let this get to me, to be good about this, to be respectful and mature when I so badly want to put up a nasty fight. Trying to be grateful for all that it is and to not think about what it could have been.

That is all.