Breathe

None of you could ever understand the dark places my mind goes and has gone before.

Mindless Rambling

Some people say that you can tell what you want to do in life as early as elementary school. For some people, that's true. I've known people that have said that they wanted to be a fireman or in the military when they were in grade school that have gone on to become those very things. But for most of us, well at least those who are like me, that decision or revelation does not come until much later. For me, I knew what I wanted to do when I was in high school. After I went through a lot of personal and traumatizing situations, I knew that I wanted to help people. But I was not sure which kind of helping I wanted to do until I got to college. It was there that I discovered Psychology and found my calling. I want to help people and become someone that they can trust when they need someone to talk to that is unbiased, genuine, and real in therapy. That has been my passion and goal since I was younger. People always seemed to come to me with their problems, so it makes sense for me to find that as my calling.

Now I'm in my third week of graduate school and feeling a little overwhelmed as I'm in a new city with no one I know. This is the path that I've been set on a long time ago and I intend to see it through, even if I feel lost and alone right now. I have been trying to make friends, but it is so difficult when everyone already seems to know each other and doesn't wish to befriend the new person. Sometimes I think that I made the wrong decision in coming to San Angelo, but then my program is great and I really enjoy my classes at the same time. Where do I find the balance? What makes it worse is when I feel as though very few people care about me from home. I just wish that I could skip the next two years and be done with school to move on with the part of my life that I wish to be at. To find a place where I can call home and actually know someone there I can spend time with rather than eating my lunch and dinners alone. Maybe it won't be so bad once I start working...I can hold onto that hope and think that it will get better. If not, then maybe I can do most of my classes online when I'm in practicum and commute for what classes I can't from Abilene. These are all things I need to talk with my adviser about and see what she thinks. Maybe it'll be best for me since I seem to like online classes better.

Family

Over the past few days, I've been doing a lot of thinking about the meaning of family and what a family really looks like. My parents divorced when I was 16 and even before then, we really didn't have much of a traditional family to begin with because of all the fighting, hatred, and abuse within the house. But now, at 23 almost 24, I finally know what a real family looks like. My Nana Connie passed away this weekend, leaving behind a huge legacy of love, devotion, and family that will be with the kids, grandkids, and nieces and nephews for the rest of our lives. When my Nana married my Papa Gene 32 years ago, she had 2 kids of her own and he had 5 boys himself. Together, they raised all 7 of the kids under the same roof without the inclination of step or otherwise. And that is how this family has been since. When my mom married us into the family, I was 18 or so, but Connie and Gene took us in as another set of grandkids to love and spoil. And for the past 6 years, we have been part of this wonderful family where we all laugh, spend time together, and support one another during the tough times.

I consider myself blessed to have such a mixed and large family, even if we do get crazy and loud most of the time. And I know that Nana is going to continue to watch over all of us for the rest of our lives because it's what she did when she was here with us. I'll always miss her, just like I will always miss my Grandma and Memaw Bernice. But I have 3 angels up in the clouds watching over me always. It still is weird to me not hearing the voices of these women who have had such an influence on my life, but I know that I will carry the lessons of love that they taught with me all the days of my life. I hope to do them proud in the future as I grow up and become more of an adult.

Life Decisions

In the past couple of weeks, I've been thinking about where I want to be in five years and what I want my life to be like. Recently, I went up to New York state to visit one of my best friends and while we were there, we went and had our fortunes told at the Ren fair. Now before you say that there isn't any stock to having your fortune told or that I'm stupid for believing it, I want to tell you that what I experienced was real. I had a medium done, where spirits of relatives or friends come to the psychic and talk to me through her. And my grandma came through. Judge all you want and say that it was just a generic thing that they all use to trick people, but this was real. She knew things about my grandma that NO ONE outside of family could have known. That shocked me, but what she had to say through the psychic was even more important and pertinent. My grandma was always one to encourage me to follow my heart and do what I want to do, regardless of what other people say or think about my decisions. She was the one to encourage me to follow my heart, no matter how big or weird my dream was. In fact, she was the one that told me I would be a good counselor. But that is beside the point. What she had to share with me through the psychic was basically that I'm on the right life path and that I shouldn't worry about other things while I'm focusing on my dream. She told me to not be afraid of the changing paths of life.

This leads me to a decision that I've come to make. I have always said that I wanted to move outside of Texas, but didn't know where I wanted to move because I didn't have friends or family in any particular state that I was interested in living in. Now that I've been to somewhere else and seen with my own eyes another place, I've fallen in love with New York. My ultimate goal was to get out of Texas, but now I have a real place set in mind. New York state is where I want to be after I finish my Master's Degree in two years. I've done the research and if I network myself with a licensed counselor in New York, I can do my supervised hours there and take their certification test to become an LPC for New York. I know that it is a huge leap of faith to move 1600 miles away from my family, but it's something I want to do. New York is beautiful and I know people up there, so I wouldn't be totally alone. It's a decision that I have 2 years to do my research for and to prepare for, but ultimately, it's where I want to be. Not just because I have friends in the area, but because it would be a new adventure for me to start a whole new chapter of my life and live fearlessly, just like my grandma would want me to.

Why I Detest Organized Religion

Now before you all go jumping on your high horses about why I'm being "unchristian" or something along those lines, I am putting this disclaimer. This does not constitute that I do not believe in God or Jesus, but it simply states that I don't like religion in an organized manner. Allow me to explain myself fully before you bring out the torches and pitchforks to burn me at the stake for hypocrisy.

To understand my dislike of organized religion, you have to understand a little bit about me first. When I was 16-years-old, I witnessed one of the greatest travesties of religion and the supposed followers of Jesus that I have ever known. My parents divorced the year following my 16th birthday after my father was convicted of indecency with a child and admitted to my mother that he was guilty all along. After this happened, my mother chose to take myself and my brothers and leave our father, filing for divorce about a month later once she had all the paperwork and funds together. Instead of supporting us, the church that I grew up in turned their backs on us and would not help my mother because they didn't consider her divorcing my father to be "Biblical". (Though she had that right YEARS ago when he cheated on her.) Not once did any member of this said church call my mother to check on us kids or see if we needed anything now that my mother was a single parent to three teenage children receiving no government assistance or child support. They all considered themselves to be people of Jesus, but yet they did not follow the simplest command of Jesus to help others who are in need because they were too proud to admit that my mother was right in divorcing the man who had done so much damage to so many peoples' lives.

Fast forward seven years to the present and you will find an enlightened version of my sixteen-year-old self. In the past few years, I have gone to many different churches and experimented with different religions, including Baptist, Methodist, and Catholic. But I've come to the conclusion for myself that organized religion isn't what was intended for God's people. All churches have really done is taken what was meant to be a guide for life and deconstructed and manipulated the word to say what they want it to say. The mantra I grew up with was similar to "Don't do this, you'll go to hell. Tattoos are for Devil worshipers. Cursing is unacceptable. Homosexuality is the Devil's handiwork and they are all going to hell. This church is the only church you can get into Heaven with." and so on. But as I've explored religion and spirituality for myself without someone shoving it down my throat, I've come to realize that most of those things are just not true. Yes, there are things you will be condemned for, like murder and things like that. But I've taken a different path and view on other things, like tattoos and homosexuality. I believe that everyone is the way that they are because they were born that way. And tattoos are meant to be a celebration of something you believe in or feel strongly about. (Or, in some cases, just something stupid you want to put on your body because it's funny.) But I honestly don't believe that God would condemn you for decorating your body or because of who you fall in love with.

I also don't believe that He will condemn anyone for being the "wrong" religion. Honestly, who does have it right? There are so many denominations in the world today that we can't honestly tell who is the "right" choice. None of them date back 2000 years to when Jesus said "upon this rock, I will build my church." The oldest "organized" church that follows the teachings of Jesus Christ are the Catholic church, but they only date back 900 years or so. For that reason, among many others, I have decided that I will not claim any one set religion, but instead embrace my own spirituality. Am I opposed to going to church? Not at all. In fact, I enjoy going to many different churches to experience the fellowship of God's people, but I will never permanently establish myself in one or the other. Instead, I intend to do as Jesus did and make my own church within myself. He traveled the world, teaching to others and didn't confine himself to one building. Why shouldn't I do the same and not stick myself in one organized religion for the rest of my life? Being Jesus to others out in the real world where it counts is more important to me than pretending every Sunday and Wednesday in a building.

So Far Away

How do I live without the ones I love?
Time still turns the pages of the book it's burned
Place and time always on my mind
And the light you left remains but it's so hard to stay
When I have so much to say but you're so far away

The past few days have been some of the hardest I have ever gone through emotionally in my life. What has happened is comparable to the days leading to and the day my Grandma died 2 years ago. My best friend's dad, who has been like a second father to me since I was 10 years old, was admitted to hospice care on Wednesday night after his battle with brain cancer took a turn for the worse. (What makes it hit home even more for me is the fact that he is in the exact same room that my Grandma was in when she passed.) Over the past few days, we have stayed at his bed side watching him slip away from us as he has remained unconscious and kept out of pain with medication that is given to him as frequently as he needs it. It's so hard to see him slip away like that, so slowly when his friends and family are there, just waiting for him to find the peace he desperately needs after months of fighting cancer with chemo and radiation, 2 different surgeries, and countless types of medications to keep his swelling and pain at bay so he could fight the cancer that was ravaging his brain. It physically hurts me to have to see him like that, so I know that it is that much harder for my best friend and her family who have known him much, much longer than I have.

Losing him is comparable to losing a dad to me because he was more of a father to me than my biological one ever was. Though he was not my dad, he always told me to call him Dad and took care of me when I was at their house hanging out with my best friend. He taught us how to play darts when we were eleven, would take us to the convenient store and buy us snacks when we wanted something since we couldn't drive back then, and even fixed my car when I was sixteen and my first car broke down all the time. Though he did drink all the time, he was never a mean drunk. In fact, he kept us entertained with his stories from his youth that he would tell all the time when he was slightly drunk. He wasn't a perfect man and he knew that, but he always tried to make everyone around him happy and learned from his mistakes when he hurt someone. It hurts me most to know that he will never be around again to make us all laugh with a random story of something really stupid that he did as a young man or to teach us all something we didn't know before, like where my air filters are in my car. I'll miss him so much and always think of him when we make chocolate chip cookies, since they were his favorite, but I know that he will be in a better place where there is no pain from cancer. That is the only comfort I'm finding in this situation.

My Ink Has Meaning

In today's ever changing world, tattoo acceptance in the work place is slowly progressing. As a tattooed girl, I am excited about this prospect because all of my tattoos have significant meaning to me and are appropriate to be displayed. (Inappropriate tattoos should never be shown in a work setting, but that's a whole other can of worms I don't want to get into and not the purpose of this blog post.) When I sat down and thought about it, I never really fully explained the meaning of all my tattoos. I know this is silly and kind of pointless, but if anyone was ever curious, this are the meanings behind my ink.

Tattoo #1

This was my first tattoo, done in August of 2008. When I thought about getting this done, I contemplated it from before I was 18 until I finally got it done a month before my 20th birthday. I grew up watching the show Charmed, which is about 3 sisters that become witches after a long family history manifests itself when they reunite for the first time after a few years. This was the symbol on the Book of Shadows, which was their familial book that was passed down through generations. The actual symbol is called a triquetra and stands for unity. This unity can be the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit or the unity within a family. Either way, I got it as a reminder that all things in my life are connected, whether it's my family, my faith, or even my friendships. I love this one as my first piece of artwork on my body and have fond memories of getting it done in the shop since I was so nervous.

Tattoo #2

My second tattoo was done in October of 2009, when my brother was on leave after his Basic Training from the Army. We got our tattoos done together (his first and my second) by the same artist who did my first one. This was also a belated birthday present from my brother since he missed my 21st birthday because he was at Basic. I was so excited to get this one with him since he was getting his first one at the same time and I'd already been through the process once before. There's nothing like sitting in a tattoo parlor with your brother, getting tattoos together while your youngest brother sits by taking pictures and laughing. The basic meaning of this one is pretty self explanatory. Faith is an integral part of my life because I've come through some pretty crappy things, so I chose to write that one simple word to remind me of it. I also chose to put it on my foot to remind me to "walk by faith" through all the hard times that are sure to come in life as I grow up and figure out who I want to be as an adult. This one took about a total of 15 minutes and hardly hurt at all. In fact, I think I laughed through it at some point because she hit a nerve that made me giggle.

Tattoo #3

My third tattoo is one that has a special place in my heart for several reasons. It was done in October of 2010 by the same artist as my previous 2 tattoos with my best friend Brittany by my side. We both got tattoos that afternoon since we're both ink lovers. This is a lyric from one of my favorite songs by Lady Gaga, who is my idol and inspiration in a lot of ways. The whole lyric is "Find your freedom in the music, find your Jesus, find your Kubrick." Basically it talks about finding yourself and sticking to that, no matter if you find meaning through music, religion, or a passion like film-making. Lady Gaga has been my inspiration in finding myself and not letting others dictate to me what is beautiful or worthy of being loved because I'm different or not "acceptable" by society because I'm not pretty enough or skinny enough. This is my reminder of what her music has done for me in the past few years, showing me that all of us are beautiful. Out of all my tattoos, this one hurt the most, but it was well worth the pain in the end.

Tattoo #4

My last tattoo was one that was done in March of 2012. It was inspired by 4 different things in my life. Firstly, I struggle with an addiction to self-injury and have since I was in the 8th grade. This is my daily reminder that I'm stronger than that addiction and that I can make it. The word itself was inspired by Kelly Clarkson's song "Stronger" and Demi Lovato's "Stay Strong" tattoos on her wrists. Demi Lovato came through issues with an eating disorder and self-injury, which speaks to myself and millions of other girls out there just like us. The heart on the end of my tattoo represents an organization called To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA). It's an organization dedicated to raising awareness about mental health, including problems with eating disorders and self-harm. It's an organization that I proudly support because I am still one of those girls. Though I have been cut free for nearly 6 years, I still struggle with the desire to harm myself when I'm stressed or upset about something happening in my life. This tattoo represents the things I have overcome in life, but also serves as my reminder that I won't fall back into the things that were hurting me in the first place. I'm more than that and this is my proof.

Diamonds

“I really encourage people to look into the darkness and look into places that you would not normally look to find uniqueness and specialness because that’s where the diamonds are hiding.”--Lady Gaga

In a world that values one type of beauty projected onto the public by the media, often times we that do not fit in with that ideal are overlooked because we don't match. We're not pretty enough, thin enough, or don't have any special talents that make us stand out among the small masses of other people that are considered "beautiful". But what is beauty, really? I believe it's an insecurity that people hide behind because they are scared of what people would truly think of them if they got to know the real person behind the mask that is their face. Often times, the most "beautiful" people in the world are the ugliest on the inside. They spew hatred like venom from their mouths while they look down upon the others because they are less physically attractive according to what society has deemed acceptable. But, I don't agree. I think that the most beautiful people in the world aren't thin or supermodels, but instead the everyday "ordinary" people that let their light shine from their hearts.

Lady Gaga is one of those people. Yes, she is famous and is considered physically attractive by most standards, but she doesn't project that to her fans. She insists that we are ALL beautiful and born the way we were meant to be. Her outrageous costumes and dresses that she wears on stage and in her videos are a symbol that what people consider to be "beautiful" isn't what she considers to be the truth. True beauty comes from within. When we find that truth inside of ourselves, then we have found a diamond. And since diamonds are considered to be one of the most beautiful gems in the world, we are beautiful as well.

I will be perfectly honest and say that I have fallen into the traps of the world and wanted to be thinner because it would make me feel more attractive, but what I've realized is that it doesn't matter what my outside looks like. If it doesn't match my inside, then it isn't worth it. Inside my heart is a depth of love that I want to give to others because I care. I have a heart that is willing and able to love others if given the chance, which is my diamond. That is what I can offer the world. It isn't outward beauty, but I don't care. What I do care about is sharing what I have to offer with my friends and family. My uniqueness in this world is that I have a heart that is nonjudgmental and has no hate for others, regardless of what walk of life you come from. That is what gift I have been blessed with. It might not be flashy like the ability to sing or dance, but it is perfect in it's own way and that is what makes me beautiful.

Words of Wisdom

“The important thing is not to be bitter over life’s disappointments. Learn to let go of the past. And recognize that every day won’t be sunny, and when you find yourself lost in the darkness and despair remember it’s only in the black of night you see the stars. And those stars will lead you back home. So don’t be afraid to make mistakes, or stumble and fall, cause most of the time the greatest rewards come from doing the things that scare you the most. Maybe you’ll get everything you wish for. Maybe you’ll get more than you ever could have imagined. Who knows where life will take you. The road is long and in the end, the journey is the destination.” --Whitey Durham

There has been much in life that I've been disappointed over, mostly to do with how situations have panned out or how things have not gone my way. But I've been learning slowly over the years that life rarely ever goes the way you plan for it to. Things happen, disasters change your path, and you wind up in a completely different place than you set out to be in the first place. But does that mean that you've failed somehow? Or that you didn't wind up exactly where you were supposed to be all along? I never really thought that I would wind up majoring in Psychology, but through  the experiences of my youth, I was lead to a profession that would help others through their darkest times because that is what was given to me in my own dark times.

During times of depression when I was younger, I found myself looking at the stars a lot. Sometimes I would go outside and lay on my trampoline for hours, just looking up at the sky and wondering if there was a point to my suffering. Or if it was all mindless and had no reason at all for happening other than the random assignment of life to people. It wasn't until I got to college and started thinking about what I wanted to do with my life that I realized that everything I had gone through in my teenage years had a purpose. Those same stars that I looked at as a teenager were the ones that gave me the time to think about what I wanted to do with my life. So, in a way, they lead me home to where I was meant to be.

I think that Whitey was right in saying that life is full of disappointments, but it's better to learn to let go of the past to move on with our lives, treating the past as a lesson learned. The past is part of the journey that we're on and that is the important thing to remember. Journeys are not all about the destination, but rather the time it takes to get there and the paths you take to end up where you're going. I've been down some pretty twisted paths in my 23 years of life. Lots of them were dark and scary and not like any you'd ever want to go down as a normal person. The roads of depression and despair are not pretty to go down, but coming out on the other side is like...waking up to a new life. It isn't always easy, but it's a lot better. I've made mistakes, but I've learned from them and taught myself that it's okay to make those mistakes so long as I learn from them. Granted, I'm still learning, but I'm only 23. There's gonna be lots of times when I fail, but picking myself up from it is what's important.

Dreaming, Hoping, & Wishing

"It’s the oldest story in the world; One day you’re 17 and planning for someday and then quietly, and without you ever really noticing, someday is today, and then someday is yesterday. And this is your life. We spend so much time wanting, pursuing, wishing. But ambition is good. Chasing things with integrity is good. Dreaming. If you had a friend you knew you’d never see again, what would you say? If you could do one last thing for someone you love, what would it be? Say it. Do it. Don’t wait. Nothing lasts forever. Make a wish and place it in your heart. Anything you want. Everything you want. Do you have it? Good. Now believe it can come true. You never know where the next miracle is gonna come from. The next memory. The next smile. The next wish come true. But if you believe that it’s right around the corner, and you open your heart and mind to the possibility of it, to the certainty of it, you just might get the thing you’re wishing for. The world is full of magic. You just have to believe in it. So make your wish. Do you have it? Good. Now believe in it. With all your heart." -- One Tree Hill

For a long time, I believed that wishes were stupid because they could never come true. It was folly to wish upon stars because those stars couldn't grant those wishes no matter how hard or often we wished upon them. They were just big balls of gas in the sky that were burning millions of miles away with no human qualities or capabilities to grant wishes. But that's just the informed scientist talking in me. My inner child thinks differently though. It still believes in magic and wishing on stars because somehow stars became the symbol for hope and for wishing the impossible. That and 11:11pm. But what do we wish for now that childhood is slipping away and giving into adulthood? As a teenager, I just wished for a normal life...one uninhibited by the drama of my family where I could be myself and not feel threatened. Through college, I was given that life. Now, my dreams are changing into something a little different as I've grown older and spent some time out in the world.

 In One Tree Hill, there is a character named Brooke Davis that I relate to more than any other character in the series. In high school, she was the shallow and catty cheerleader that was the life of every party, slept with all the boys, and got whatever she wanted. But underneath all of that, she was an insecure teenager dealing with the rejection of her parents who would rather give her money than spend time with their daughter. Brooke kept people at arm's length out of fear that they too would run away from her and reject her, which created a lack of bonds with those closest to her. While I may not have been the popular cheerleader that slept with guys all through high school, I was still the same insecure girl that Brooke Davis was. But over time, she blossomed into a beautiful young woman who headed up a multi-million dollar clothing company by the age of twenty-two. Yet, she still didn't have the satisfaction she had wanted all along because though she was spending time with her mother, it still didn't give her the bond she had longed for all of her life. What Brooke craved more than anything was a family. One that she could call her own without having to design a clothing line to get them to notice her. The first step in that direction came when she met Julian Baker, a sweet talking film producer from Los Angeles that came to Tree Hill to produce a movie. Little did she know that he would become the man to make her believe in love again.

In the end, Brooke finally found the peace and family life she had longed for, which brings me to my point. I guess you could say that what I'm wishing for now is to find my Julian, my other half. One Tree Hill is a show of many lessons for me, including chasing the opportunities that we're given. I've been given the opportunity to continue my education and make something of myself in the future, just as Brooke was given that through her clothing line. But my Julian has yet to present himself in my life...at least that I can see. What I wish for most is to have a family. That has been a wish in my heart since I was sixteen. My deepest desire is to be someone's wife and a mother. I want to hold a newborn baby in my arms and know that I made that human being or that I adopted him or her. I hold that wish closest to my heart and constantly fear that I will never be a wife or mom. But I know that I have to keep holding onto it and fight for it in the future, no matter what happens.

Falling Apart And Together

“It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart.”--Finnick Odair (Mockingjay)

I'm very quickly realizing how true that this quote is and how relevant it is to my life. In the past week, I went from being okay to totally not okay. Wednesday was an awful day for me and I knew that something was going to go wrong...I just knew it would. I had this feeling when I woke up like by the end of the day, I would lose something important to me...and I did. Well, I'm not sure if I've lost it yet, but I feel like I have. Because of some really stupid circumstances, I might lose the only job I've been fortunate to have in the last three years. What scares me most is that I won't know until Tuesday if I still have my job or not because my boss is out of town until then and he wanted to take the weekend to decide whether or not to fire me. Regardless, it's really messed up. I've been preparing my back up plan in case I do lose my job and applying at many places, but it still doesn't easy the anxiety that I have that this time next week, I will likely be unemployed. But you know what they say, hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

In all of this, I've been thinking about the last time I truly fell apart. That was my junior year of high school, when I had reached the lowest point I could go before I finally started seeing the light again. It has taken me six years and a lot of painful times to overcome what I've gone through and put myself back together. But I have come back together in many ways. Yet, this job loss threatens to push me back to falling apart and I don't want to let it. Because the extenuating circumstances that are causing me to likely lose my job are not necessarily my fault. I do accept some of the blame because part of it was my fault for not being on the ball about some things, but some of it was pure accidental coincidence. If my boss does decide to fire me...I will hold my head high and still carry on with the knowledge that he is losing one of the better fundraisers at the center. I won't let it tear me down and I will find another job to fill in until I move to San Angelo in the fall. Even if I have to apply every single place in the city that I can find. 

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger

"Sometimes when you’re young, you think nothing can hurt you. It’s like being invincible. Your whole life is ahead of you and you have big plans, big plans. Find your perfect match, the one that completes you. But as you get older, you realize it’s not always that easy. It’s not until the end of your life you realize how the plans you made were simply plans. Because at the end, when you’re looking back instead of forward, you want to believe that you made the most of what life gave you. You want to believe that you’re leaving something good behind. You want it all to have mattered." -- One Tree Hill

I may only be 23, but in that short time on earth, I have seen more than most people have in a lifetime; More drama than I ever cared to be a part of. And more heartache than I ever thought possible. Being young doesn't make you invincible. Imperviousness is not something that we innately have as young people. It takes time, years of mistakes and learning, and a lot of strength to be impenetrable by outside sources and influences that can take us down. Something I have learned is that I am not impervious, but instead I feel too much and let things get to me when I shouldn't. That is why I have a problem with cutting. But instead of focusing on the mistake I made in getting involved with cutting at all, I put my energy into keeping myself strong so I never have to stoop that low again. I want to leave some good in the world when I go and help people that are struggling with their own problems find the strength to stand up and take charge of their lives the way that I have. If that means that my problems can be used for the greater good, then so be it.

Today I got my 4th and final tattoo. This one means the most to me out of any that I have gotten before because it is a direct reminder that I am stronger than what I have faced. And it will keep reminding me that I have faced worse and can overcome anything. They say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And I wholeheartedly believe that's true.

“What happened to us? You know? I don’t know who I am anymore. Or how I got here. I miss who I used to be. I wanna have a home again, you know? And real friends. You know, the kind of friendships we used to believe in. I miss that. And I miss you. I guess I miss all of it. Does any of that make any sense?”  --Peyton Sawyer (One Tree Hill)

Growing up is one of the hardest things to do, especially when you realize that things are no longer what you thought they once were. These can be relationships, jobs, or even part of yourself. In the past two years, I have watched some of my closest friendships decline to something I don't really recognize anymore...something that breaks my heart because friendships mean the world to me. These are the friends that once saved my life...and now we rarely speak. I have been pushed to realize that the friends I once held so near and dear to my heart...just aren't there anymore. Who's to blame though? Is it really one side or the others' fault? Or are we just victims of becoming adults? I never once intended for friendship to be ephemeral. I wanted these friendships to be life long, but it is at a point in our lives where I honestly don't know what will become of us. My heart aches to know that everything will be alright and that they won't forget what I still know...and that is that no matter what has been said (or not said) or done, they are still the best friends I've ever had.

We've all been growing up, but in that growing up, we have forgotten how to communicate with one another. I go weeks without hearing from them unless I actively make an effort to talk, which is really hurting me. I have tried to reach out, only to find that the harder I try, the more I feel like people pull away from me and push me out. Is it something I did? Or didn't do? I honestly don't know, but I feel so lost in all of this. I guess the point is that, I just miss my friends.

Stay Strong

“There are days where I don’t think I can make it. An addiction is an addiction and you are going to deal with it for the rest of your life. You are going to have days where you are going to struggle. I’m not perfect. But now at least I’m honest with myself and everyone around me.”-- Demi Lovato


For those who don't know me, I have struggled with an addiction for the better part of the last 9 years of my life. When I was 14, I started to cut myself  to deal with the emotional trauma that I was dealing with in my personal life at home. Things were awful as I was never allowed to talk about it outside of the family, so essentially I had no one to talk to. In addition to that, I was being abused in ways that no child should ever be abused by a parent. My biological father would hit me, yell profanities at me, slap me across the face, and throw me into walls on a daily basis because he would get angry about something I supposedly said or did/didn't do. But it didn't end there. When I was 14, he was charged with indecency with a child for molesting a close friend of mine while she lived with us. He professed his innocence and we were wait-listed for a trial. This catalyst induced my silence, which came at a lack of personal choice from myself as I wanted so desperately to talk to someone about it while we waited to go to trial for 2 years. So I stayed silent. And in that silence, I was forced to turn to the one thing that would relieve my emotional hurt and pain. Cutting.

By the time we reached trial 2 years later, I was at a point where I couldn't stop myself. There were always little pink lines from fresh cuts on my upper arms and some on my legs where I could easily hide them with pants and shirts. No one knew and no one asked about them either, so I felt safe in my own cocoon of self-harm and escaping the hell that I lived in. During that time, I was also diagnosed with depression by my doctor and put on medication, though shortly taken off afterward when my appetite drastically decreased to nothing. Though I kept my cutting a secret still. After the trial, the truth was revealed as to what kind of monster my biological father really was, so my mother divorced him by the time my 17th birthday came around in September of that year. By then, I had scaled back on the amount of cutting I was doing as things were getting a little better without my biological father in the house to beat me or terrorize me anymore. Yet, I was so entrenched in my addiction that I couldn't completely stop myself. I needed it to function and get through my days where people now knew what my family was like...the truth of how horrible a man my biological father really was. (Even if they still didn't know about the heaps of abuse he threw on me for years before that.) My heart cried out for help to the wall of friends that I had at the time, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell them the truth of what I was doing to myself. I was ashamed and embarrassed that I had sunk so low that I was hurting myself to escape the pain in my heart.

Throughout the rest of my junior year, I hid the fact that I was still cutting and hurting myself from the rest of the world. None of my friends knew anything about it or if they did, they never said anything about their suspicions during that time. It became harder and harder to hide it as I was running out of places to cut that hadn't already been hit before and were too sensitive to touch for a while. Gradually, I just started wearing long-sleeves in the middle of August in Texas. Which isn't normal. But people didn't say anything to me. It wasn't until 2006 that someone intervened and saved my life. It took several months of trying and failure before I was finally able to stop cutting completely. During that time, I was also seeing a school counselor to help me work through some of my problems since I was now allowed to talk about my family life at home. November 2, 2006 will always have a significance in my life as it marked the beginning of a new life for me. From that day forward, I have not cut myself once. Almost 6 years have come and gone since that day and I am still going strong. But I won't lie and say that there haven't been days where I want to break down and give in again. In fact, there have been many days where I have felt like giving up and going back to what helped me through so much turmoil in the past. But that isn't what recovery is about. Recovery is making a promise to yourself that you will fight whatever it is that you are addicted to and keep it at bay when it tries to come knocking again.

Knowing that I am prone to bouts of depression and am not medicated due to lack of insurance coverage and the increasing costs of medication, I know that I have really weak points that I have to deal with now and then. During college, they were fewer and far between, but now that I'm out in the real world and don't see my friends every day, it's much harder for me to sometimes function without seeing or at least speaking to them at some point during my day. They are honestly what keeps me going and keep me strong to fight this never ending battle with depression, self-harm, and feeling like I'm worth something in this world. But my struggles have also offered me a gift. A passion for helping others who have or will struggle like I did and continue to do. We are a world of broken people who are pleading and crying out for help. Who better to help them than someone who has been there and who knows what it is like to be on the other side of the wall? This passion is also something that helps me stay strong and know that I'm worth something. It has also helped me come to terms with what I struggle with and keeps me honest with those around me who know me best about my own personal demons that haunt me even today. But I know that I will overcome. I will keep on rising up and find myself through all of this.

Happily (N)Ever After

"The person that invented the phrase 'Happily Ever After,' should have his ass kicked--so hard." - Grey's Anatomy

I find that there really is no such thing as a "happily ever after" in life. At least not in the permanent sense. There can be pockets of happiness that we find as human beings, through relationships and joyful events such as marriage, births, and family gatherings, but is there really a happily ever after for life? What about things such as death, job loss, and disasters that we have no control over? Those things surely can't be counted into what was in mind when the happily ever after notion was invented. Those fairy tales were all about good triumphing over evil and the princess marrying her prince before setting off into the sunset to live happily ever after for the rest of her life. But what about the rest of the story?


All of my life, I grew up on Disney fairy tales. My particular favorites were Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid and I will admit openly that I wanted to be Belle and Ariel when I was a little girl. To some degree, at 23, I still do. But I realize as an adult that there really can't be a happily ever after for most people. Yes, there are the rare exceptions to that rule, but those are few and far between. The rest of us are left to the reality that is life. We will get our hearts broken, our dreams will change or be shattered, or we'll lose someone that we love. I have experienced this disenchantment firsthand with heartbreak, death, and my dreams being punched in the face. My first love broke my heart when he chose someone else over me, three of my grandmothers died within a two year span of each other, and I had to change my entire life course because of financial means. The truth of it is...reality sucks. It's why many people are content to live within their dream worlds where nothing can truly hurt them. I, on the other hand, have accepted reality for what it is and have tried to make the best of it.

My fairy tale isn't to find some dashing prince who will save me from all of my problems in life. Instead, I just want to succeed at what I do and help others. That has been my life goal since I was eighteen and realized that I had a passion for helping others with their problems. I know that when I grow up, I want to be a counselor for disadvantaged teens who cannot otherwise afford mental health care, but go to school within a school system. These are the people that need help...because without help, they become disenchanted with life completely at such a young age. I almost did. But through the help of one counselor, life turned around for me. I'm not saying that I got a happily ever after, but I did get a second chance at life. And that is what I hope to bring to the future kids.

Hope For The Hopeless

“When do you throw in the towel? Admit that a lost cause is something just that? There comes a point where it all becomes too much. When we get too tired to fight anymore. So we give up. That’s when the real work begins. To find hope where there seems to be absolutely none at all.” -- Grey's Anatomy


This is how I've felt for the past couple of days. Sunday afternoon, I finally ended one of the most toxic friendships I have ever been through in my life. Five years of emotional abuse has come to an end after I finally put my foot down and said no. It wasn't easy, but it was something that I had to do to regain the self-respect that I had thought I lost when this guy decided that he wanted to string me along for years while he dated another girl, got engaged to said girl, and then the relationship ended when she cheated on him. I said friendship, but he was always pushing me for more, even if we live five hours from one another and he is in the Armed Forces while I'm about to start graduate school in another town. The breaking point came when he asked me if I would ever have sex with him...over a text message. Who the hell does that?

That was the breaking point for me in which I decided that I was no longer going to put up with his mind games and toying around with my heart. I put my foot down a few days later, after mulling it over, and told him not to ever contact me again. This, of course, set him off and made him leave a string of voice-mail and text messages telling me that I was the one trampling over his feelings. Well I suddenly let loose on him and really let him know what I thought of him and how he's treated me over the past five years. At the end of it, I deleted his number from my phone and his friendship from my Facebook. But the thing that hit me the most is that I have essentially deleted the only guy I've ever had real feelings for that reciprocated them in any fashion. Where does that leave me romantically? I guess it's saying that I'm single and unattached to anyone now. But that doesn't give me hope for the future and not being single. I just want to find that person, like everyone else does, that makes me feel happy and loves me for who I am. And who I love in return. But I guess hope is where you least expect it. I move in five months to a new town with new people...who knows, maybe my prince will be waiting there for me.

Happier Alone

“There is a reason I said I’d be happy alone. It wasn't because I thought I would be happy alone. It was because I thought if I loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make it. It’s easier to be alone. Because what if you learn that you need love? And then you don’t have it. What if you like it? And lean on it? What if you shape your life around it? And then it falls apart? Can you even survive that kind of pain? Losing love is like organ damage. It’s like dying. The only difference is, death ends. This? It could go on forever.” - Grey's Anatomy

Being single at 23 has always been a choice for me. I have never dated a guy, been kissed, or even really given my heart to someone fully without reserving myself and keeping a wall up to surround me. But I've been focusing on other things for so long, such as school, working, and getting to where I want to be in life, that I really haven't put the thought into dating. Now that I have a break from school, I've had a lot more time on my hands and I've come to realize how much it really does suck to be alone. But at the same time, I'm happy too. I don't have to put myself out there for guys to judge and to get rejected by people that I happen to like. But what if I did?

I have always had this ornate fear of being rejected by guys because I'm not the prettiest or thinnest girl in the world. But more importantly, I'm scared to fall in love because I don't know what I would do if I ever got dumped or if the guy fell out of love with me. If I learned to rely on that love, I don't know if I could pick up the pieces and survive that sort of pain. I've survived a lot on my short life, but one thing too many might push me to that breaking point. I'm a self-reliant person for the most part and always have been, but giving my heart to someone else scares the living hell out of me. My mother was married for almost eighteen years to someone that didn't love her and who tricked her into marrying him...who's to say that won't happen to me? I don't want it to, nor do I want to be stuck in a situation years down the road where I have children with someone that doesn't love me. And my kids have to see that...I don't want to subjugate my future children to that sort of thing.

But like every other human being, I crave love too. It's a balance of insanity that lives in my own head all the time. I don't even know how to deal with it all and I'm a Psychology major! But I do know this: Maybe someday I'll reach the point where I'm okay with falling in love. But for now, I can't do it. For now, I'm going to be alone...and I'll be happy.

Traumatic Blessings

“It doesn’t matter how tough we are. Trauma always leaves a scar. It follows us home, it changes our lives. Trauma messes everybody up, but maybe that's the point. All the pain and the fear and the crap… Maybe going through all that is what keeps us moving forward. It’s what pushes us. Maybe we have to get a little messed up before we can step up.” -Grey's Anatomy


I'll be the first to tell you that having a traumatic experience in your life sucks. No matter what you do to try and forget it, you really can't. There is a scar that runs deeper than anything skin deep; one that cuts straight to your soul and makes you feel like complete and utter crap. That pain is something that hurts more than anything imaginable at times...the times when you feel like you can't do anything to change what has happened to you into anything positive. It's a drowning feeling, like being stuck out at sea without a life saver or anyone there to grab you from the water. But mostly, it's  a dull ache that resides in your chest, laying dormant for weeks, months, or even years, just waiting for the opportune moment to seize hold of you again and drag you back into the pits of your own personal hell. For me, it's the moments when I'm forced to look at my past that hurt the most and bring me down to the hell that I feel.

For much of my childhood on into my teenage years, I was abused by someone that was supposed to love and protect me from birth. Constant verbal, physical, emotional, and mental abuse that went on from the time I was old enough to understand what it meant until I was almost seventeen. At one point, it was a daily thing when my mother was at work or at school for my "father" to tear me down as a person, telling me that I was never good enough and that I was never going to amount to anything. When I would do something wrong, he would slap me on the face or shove me into a wall, saying that if he didn't have "so much control", I would have been thrown through the wall. Or if, God forbid, I refused to do something I was told, he would hit me some more, yell at me, and then "spank" me with a belt. (If you could even call that beating a spanking.) I would have bruises on my legs and back from the belt for days after. Sometimes I'd have bruises on my arms from where he grabbed me to push me into a wall. None of which any of my friends knew about because it was easy to hide them. It got to the point where I feared my "father" and his fits of rage and the terror he would inflict upon me. I never wanted to go home after school or band practice. And I never wanted to even be in the same room as him. Finally, it all ended when I was seventeen after my mother filed for divorce. But even she doesn't know some of the abuse that he inflicted on me, nor will I ever tell her because she felt guilty enough as it was.

But through all of this trauma, I've been pushed forward toward what I want to do with my life. I chose Psychology as my major in college for one reason: I want to help people. I want to help them through the hard times where they feel alone and like no one is listening because I've been there. I've been the scared sixteen-year-old, crying out for help to a wall of people who knew nothing about what I was going through. Just as I have been the confused twenty-something year old that has a traumatic past I don't like talking about lightly with new people. But through my education, I've learned that the best kinds of counselors are the ones you can relate to the best. If my trauma can offer someone that little bit of comfort, that edge of ease, then what I have gone through is worth it. Because I can reach out to those that otherwise might not open up to someone else...I can help them. And that is something that I consider a blessing.