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.