Hurt

I hurt myself today

to see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
the only thing that's real
the needle tears a hole
the old familiar sting
try to kill it all away
but I remember everything
what have I become?
my sweetest friend
everyone I know
goes away in the end
and you could have it all
my empire of dirt

I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
upon my liar's chair
full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
beneath the stains of time
the feelings disappear
you are someone else
I am still right here

what have I become?
my sweetest friend
everyone I know
goes away in the end
and you could have it all
my empire of dirt

I will let you down
I will make you hurt

if I could start again
a million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
-Johnny Cash

Expectations

I'm not sure if I'm a natural born pessimist or if life experiences made me this way. But the glass is half empty over here. I go through life trying my best not to expect anything. If you expect things and they don't fall through you don't get disappointed. It's pretty much that simple. My boyfriend doesn't appreciate my outlook. Which is probably a good thing. He brings sunshine to my cloudy days. But this is me, you know? My thoughts linger around close to the ground. When things go well I can enjoy the happiness that comes with. But if my hopes are up and things go wrong, I don't take it very well. Too much pain. Too many thoughts that turn on me. So I rather protect myself. I rather not expect anything.

I told myself not to get my hopes up. I told myself to not make a big deal out of it. I told myself to not get excited. I told myself over and over and over again. But I failed. Miserably. From the very beginning even. I tried to push my emotions deep inside me. I tried to contain everything I felt. But I just couldn't help it. Years and years of buried down expectations came and bit me. They slapped me in the face. They took a hold of me and convinced me that it would be okay and then they slammed the door in my face. I can hear them laughing right now. When will you ever learn Steph? How stupid can you be?

I'm crying and I hurt. An insane amount. Why so much I don't even know. But I can't blame anyone. I blame myself. Blame myself for thinking that things would work out. Blame myself for being stupid enough to have hope. Expecting things doesn't do me a damn thing except make me feel like this.

Sinking.

I can't save the world. I'm not capable of helping everyone. I don't have the ability to make a significant positive difference to every one I meet. But those close to me? Those I love so much? Why can't I at the very least help them?

I'm picturing an ocean right now. An ocean with little ships all around one another. There's a pretty big problem though. They're all sinking and I've never learned how to swim.

I'm trying to figure out exactly what I'm feeling. I'm doing my best to pinpoint my emotions. Because everything I feel is conflicting. Thing is, I'm sinking too. But I don't want to be saved when I can't save any of you.

Best Friend.

I take those two words probably much more seriously than most. They carry much more weight for me. Too much perhaps. I don't like flinging it around. It's kind of funny but I think I'd probably rather abuse the words "I love you" more than the term "best friend".

I've only had one best friend before. The answer to my many, many prayers. It ended horribly, abruptly, and years later I still carry around the pain and confusion. I blame myself. For what, I'm not sure. But blaming myself comes natural and I had to have done something wrong. But alas, it's over. She's gone and I'm sure her life is better because of it.

To set the record completely straight, Chris is my very best friend. He's my everything and that's how it should be. No one but God comes before him. But right after him is this very special person. This wonderful individual that I can't even begin to express how much she means to me. She's someone I don't deserve, but I'll do anything not to lose. She's someone I felt like I needed from the day we first spoke. But for a while I honestly was scared to trust. I didn't want to open myself up to another person. I didn't want to label anyone those "forbidden words". Especially because she threw them around so lightly. Everyone was her "best friend" and I didn't understand that. I didn't understand how those words seemed not to mean anything. Sometimes it frustrated me. I'd find myself getting angry over it. But maybe it's just because I was jealous. Jealous of the freedom she had with the words. Jealous maybe even of the fact that I wasn't part of the term. Or even if I was that it didn't mean anything. But as the days grew and I began to know her better I found myself not caring. She could have all the best friends she wanted. She could use that term as many times as she wanted. That was her choice. All I knew is that I wanted her to be mine.

We were sitting outside of the Winnie the Pooh ride and gift shop at Disneyland. We had just taken a picture when she said the words for the first time. I didn't reply with what I wanted to. Instead I just was silent. I always wondered if she noticed, or even cared that I didn't say it back. But I couldn't get myself too. Because it scared me. Because I didn't really understand what she meant by them. Was I just one of the many? Probably. As much as I wanted to I couldn't just be okay with that. Not yet. My heart felt happy and hurt so much all at the same time. She doesn't know it, but I couldn't get it out of my head. It's so dumb but it consumed my thoughts. Memories flooded me and fear overtook me. I didn't know how I was supposed to feel.

I'm not sure why the heck I'm so complicated. Why I feel so much and put so much meaning into things. It really is unhealthy. But then that's why I don't trust people easily. And why once it's broken it'll be years and years before its even slightly fixed. Erin is not a replacement for Diana. It isn't like when Diana left I've been searching for someone else. I never wanted someone else. I didn't want to trust anyone like that again. But Erin did come into my life. Erin did fill something deep inside me. Erin did break through my walls. Erin did give me friendship that I didn't simply just want, but needed. I trust her and I want to. She's my best friend. And you know, I don't care if she throws that term around anymore. I don't have to be number one. Do I want to be? Of course! Hah. But I think that's only natural. The fact is I don't need to be. Where I stand doesn't effect where she does in my heart.

I've had a very bad day today health wise. Honestly, sitting here typing this causes me pain. My head hurts, my vision isn't great and I'm afraid that at any second I'll have another seizure. But I need to say all of this. When I stumbled my way to my door this afternoon feeling like I was going to drop dead I only wanted to be with two people. I wanted my boyfriend and I wanted my best friend. Chris came and was an angel for me but I still wanted to have Erin there. I couldn't just ask her though. I knew she was busy and I'm not capable of being that bold anyway. But to my amazement and surprise she brought up the subject to me. She asked to see me. And although I had to wait a few hours she came. And what's more she came with these:


Do you believe that? After every thing she did for me for my birthday she came to my house tonight with roses. And a cookie! Her presence was more than enough. Her presence will always be more than enough. But that fact that she does so much for me is just overwhelming. I don't deserve it, and for as long as I live I never will. But she's here anyway.

Just thinking about her never ceases to make me smile. There is still so much that I want to learn about her. There's so many memories that I want to make. I never want to lose her friendship. Never. But if I've learned anything from my life is that the future is uncertain. Forever doesn't always exist. So I'm grateful for every day I get to be her friend. I'm grateful for all the yesterdays, and today. I'm grateful for the prospect of tomorrow, and the hope I'm allowing myself to have for the years to come. I'm grateful for the very person Erin is. I'm grateful that I'm completely comfortable (and perhaps a little giddy) about calling her my best friend.

I love you Erin. Thank you.

A House that Built Me

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it’s like I’m someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I walk around I swear I’ll leave
Won’t take nothing but a memory

From the house that built me
-Miranda Lambert

I was talking to my cousin this morning and during our conversation he mentioned that our grandmother is thinking about selling her house. My whole body froze for a second. Immediately tears flooded my eyes. The idea of that house not being lived in by someone in our family just kills me. That tiny house in El Paso is the definition of home. I grew up there. We all did. Me, Frank, John, Natasha, and Chito. But even more than that, our parents. My dad, my Tia Lecha and Tia Stella, My Tio Rene and Tio Checho. My grandparents bought that house when they got married. My grandpa took his last breath there. Big parties with full on mariachis bands were thrown in the backyard. Christmas, Thanksgiving, and birthdays were celebrated in that house. All of us together enjoying each other. Every weekend during my childhood I was at my Grandma's. Frank, John and Natasha and I would all cram into the living room and have sleep overs. We'd talk for hours and just laugh until late into the night. Then when John and Frank would slip into sleep Natasha and I would stay up later and continue laughing and talking until usually Grandma would come out of her room and tell us to be quiet. Hah. My cousins and I created a club and we put on talent shows for our family. Every Sunday we'd play football across the street from the house in the parking lot of a church. We had a war once with the kids across the alleyway in the house behind us. Whenever we were sad or needed time alone we would climb up on the roof and just sit and think. I always thought it was amazing that you could literally see Mexico from the roof. This house holds so many memories. Not just for me, but all of us.

When I left for Arizona in the 6th grade for the final time this was the place where I said my last goodbyes. The hardest part was driving away from this house and seeing all my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandma crying on the lawn. Every time I visit I come here. That house on Sacramento is my home. I don't want to live without it.

Change

On this beautiful Wednesday before Thanksgiving I sit once again at my computer desk, just thinking. In reality this is probably the only place in the house I can really call my own. This tiny little space that is so inconveniently placed in the hallway. The bathroom door is behind me, and three bedrooms are no more than 10 feet away. One bedroom is less than a foot from me. But alas, this is what I have.

My desk is right next to this. My pathetic little book shelf that cries for more books. Two picture frames that I have no idea what to put in. Half the time the shelf is covered with various items my family decides to place there. I get extremely annoyed with that fact, actually. But what can you do? Respecting space and personal property is apparently something foreign here.

I have a bit of an embarrassing...medical condition? I suppose we can call it that. It causes me a lot of pain and I will probably need surgery. But that requires certain things I'm not willing to ask for. So I'll live with the pain. I really don't mind. It's not like it's life threatening. I can take it. Saying that makes me wonder though. I put up with a lot and really, other than on here, I don't complain. Ninety nine percent of the people I know have no idea what I face day in and day out. I kind of like it that way. Yes, there are times I want people to listen. There are times when I feel alone. But really, I have people. I have Chris. I have Erin. I have Jacob. I even have Jamie, if I needed to resort to calling her up and disturbing her (Yes Jamie, I know that's not how you'd see it). They're my support system and the best friends I could ever ask for. It's my insecurities that lead me to shy away. Not accept their help. That's all me, and I take responsibility. I'm learning. Each and every day. Chris gets the brunt of it all. Erin gets a good portion that perhaps unfortunately for her is steadily increasing. Jacob is my sweetheart who reassures me more than I think he comprehends. Jamie, although states away, gives me peace by just the realization that we're still friends. Words don't need to be spoken with her. I know she thinks about me and is always there. But even though I have all of this support it isn't enough. Not by their own fault, of course. Once again, it's me. I've been in denial of certain things. I haven't taken responsibility for who I'm becoming. I need their help, yes. But I need to buckle down and get to work.

For someone who is so unsure about herself I have a lot of confidence in particular areas. For one, I know I can do anything. Not because I'm smart or talented but because I'm extremely stubborn and I have a great work ethic. But for maybe even as long as a year I've been consumed by questions, fear, and guilt. I've allowed myself to dig a hole and just sit in it. That isn't me. I don't just sit. I've been speaking about being restless but what am I doing? Nothing. I need a change. I quit my job because I needed a change but then I did nothing. I made excuses. I got in a bad situation and had a meltdown. But then what Steph? Exactly what am I waiting for? I'm not even just talking about getting a job. There are so many areas where I'm just sitting and waiting. When did I become that person? When did I stop fighting for what I wanted and raising a fair amount of hell in the process? I need a change. Even if it requires me to pack my bags and leave, I need a change.

Now. Not later.

Words Unspoken

I have so much to say. Seriously. I think I may just burst. How inconvenient it is that no one is awake for me to talk to. How frustrating it is that even if there was I doubt I would know where to start. But I need to talk to someone. I have a desire to answer questions. To explain myself in every matter. To describe events. To express emotions and intimate feelings. I want to share my dreams, my wants, my desires. I want to convey my fears, my insecurities and my shortcomings. I want to leave nothing unsaid. I want someone to know me. All of me. Know everything I've ever done. Know the reasons why I am who I am. I want to let someone know how I feel at this exact moment. I want someone to be interested in my well-being. But how could I ask that from any single person? Who has the time? Who has the desire?

When I was 13 I wanted to write a book. So I started writing. I wrote over 100 pages but I deleted most of it in a spurt of anger. Sometimes I regret it. It said so much. But oh well. I can never get it back. I kept some of it. Two pieces. Here's a part of one:

The rain splattered to the ground. The trees trembled as God's gentle whisper blew through their leaves. Lightning struck, thunder rumbled, as the tears from heaven fell harder to the ground. I stood outside my front door staring at the wonder that stood before my eyes, felt His whisper caress my face. The beauty of a summer storm embraced me warmly. I felt a sensation inside; I wanted to break away. I wanted to leave the life I had and flow as easily as the storm did. I wanted to cry; cry until somebody answered. I wanted to scream; scream until someone heard. I wanted to smile, but my heart would not let me. I wanted to be the rain and the thunder; I wasn't. I stepped into the storm, sorrowed, knowing this was the only way I could be part of it. I walked away from the prison I call a home, walked away from the life I had, dreading my return.

Mind you I was only 13. It's no masterpiece. But they're words that still have meaning for me today. Eight years later and really, how different am I from that kid who went home every single day from school and took out a knife and used it on my skin? Vastly, actually. But at the same time, not too much. I still want to cry. I still want to scream. I still want to smile. I still want to break away.

Waiting

I've been trying to just sleep in order to pass the time. I'm not sure what I'm expecting. All I know is that there is a huge hole in my heart and it makes it hard to even stand. Sleep isn't working. I close my eyes and my thoughts overwhelm me. Different scenarios keep playing in my head. None of them end well. Is it just my pessimistic attitude or the reality of the situation?

I think I'm hungry. But I don't want to eat.

I need some sort of distraction. No. I need answers. Even though I'm terrified of what they may be.

What am I supposed to do when there's no one to turn to? How am I supposed to deal when I'm hurting more than I can tolerate? Tell me, how am I able to calm myself down enough to stop crying when there's still so much inside me? I need to be comforted. I need to be held. I need to be told that I'm not crazy. I'm not being irrational. That this fear is real. But how can I go to anyone? Especially right now.

Jamie, I wish I could see you.

Anxious.

I feel extremely restless. I can't seem to sit still. My mind keeps wandering to extremely weird things. And my dreams? I've never had such vivid dreams in my life. I wake up and I remember everything. Smells, feelings, expressions, words. Nothing especially profound happens but I wake up and I can't get the thoughts out of my head. It's more like I just experienced a day filled with countless events rather than just waking up from a dream.

Going into this weekend I feel extremely anxious. I can't help myself. I feel like I need to protect someone. Station myself outside the door and hide. I just want everything to be okay. I don't want there to be any pain. But if there is. If there's a single moment where I'm needed I want to be there. I just don't think there's anything I can really do. I hate that.

I want to do something. I wish I lived closer to the mountains. I'd love to go on a hike. I want to go camping, actually. My first and only time was amazing but it seriously is one of those things that I've just been dying to do again for years.

I need a job.

21

Today I turned 21 years old. And I realized that although I have very few close friends, they spoil me rotten. It, however, has nothing to do with anything materialistic that they gave me. No, the greatest gifts I received were expressed to me in words.

I want to start off with my best friend, Erin Laura Rebello. I haven't known Erin for too long. We've been really good friends for a little less than two years. When I first met Erin something actually scared me about her. I was scared because I was drawn to her. We'd talk and I found myself wanting to spend more time with her. I wanted to get to know her. I wanted to be friends. And that's absolutely terrifying to me. I felt comfortable with her and so much of me wanted to run away and hide. Regardless if it's a bad thing or not, I'm a victim of my past. I carry around certain things like they're part of my skin. The pain Diana caused me has never been surmounted. And honestly, it still hasn't even healed. But for me I only felt like Jamie could be the only female I trusted completely. She, after all, had never done anything to hurt me or betray me. But then Erin came into my life and she slowly filled a part of me that I thought would forever be empty. And today, she filled it completely and then proceeded to overfill it with the love and friendship she's given me. For my birthday she decorated my truck and wrote in chalk all around it. But the best thing was this:
Inside each of these 21 balloons was a reason why she loved me. Twenty one of the kindest statements that someone has ever given me. And if that wasn't enough she gave me a card later that was filled with beautiful words that made me want to cry for all the right reasons. I love you Erin. Thank you.

Next there was my beautiful and wonderful Jamie Ann Welch-Jaro. Everything she writes to me or says to me has always gone straight into my heart where it's kept safe forever. But a three-paged birthday letter from her was more than enough to get me on my knees and thank God for the blessing He has given me through her friendship. Holding those papers in my hands and seeing her lovely handwriting made me feel like I was close to her. As though she was sitting right next to me, holding my hand and talking to me. I love that she loves me so. I love that she took time out of her day to sit down and write to me. My most precious and beautiful friend, I adore you. Thank you for all that you do, even though you're far away.

Marisa Crystal Ann Gonzalez you're the most beautiful and precious little sister I could ever ask for. I love that in these recent years we've grown into being friends. You're 16 and drop-dead gorgeous and I love you so much. You wrote me a letter that was unbelievably heartfelt. I don't deserve the nice things you said about me, or the way you look up to me, but I will always do my best to never let you down. I love you with all my heart.

Jacob Adam Lane, you're my sexy man who I secretly want forever. If I could have a best man at my wedding it would be you. What you wrote on the single space in the card that Erin left you was sweet. I don't need a lot of words from you to tell me that you care. The amount of times you've been there for me is enough. But perhaps the greatest thing you did for me today was telling me happy birthday and hugging me goodbye when you left the restaurant today. You were so sick and I felt awful that you were feeling so bad but the fact that despite the way you felt you still came means so much to me. I love you Jacob. So much.

Michael Ryan Gray I don't think it's a coincidence that the gift you gave me involved music. It's been such an important part of our friendship. No matter what I will always love you. Difficulties and all. Thank you for taking time and being open enough so that I could share with you just a piece of my musical taste. I appreciate the no complaints, and the comment about my voice. Your string of lights will always shine bright to me.

And of course, the most important person to me and the love of my life, Christopher Michael LaVoy. You got me a handful of amazing material presents. But the best present you gave me today was a note you wrote to me on receipt paper. I swear to you that each and every day you give me another reason to fall in love with you all over again. You just being you is the greatest gift in my life. Period. Not just on my birthday. I love you with everything I am and I always will.

Thank you all for making me feel special on this day.

Emotion Overload

My hands are shaking and I feel like I need to throw up. Tears keep filling my eyes and I have to use all my energy to keep them from falling. Underneath my chin are burst blood vessels that I can only contribute to the stress that I feel. It's hard to stand. I'm not sure I know what to do anymore.

My best friend is in pain and I can't do a damn thing to make anything feel better for her. My other friend just lost his job and it isn't fair that he has to add this to his plate. And here I am just wanting to help them so much but I'm useless. More so I have no strength to. I'm having trouble breathing. I should probably go lay down but I need to get something out. Anything. I don't have a room where I can just go in and cry. I have nothing.

I'm not even sure what the hell is wrong with me. I don't understand what is going on. I know I haven't been able to release completely everything I've felt for the past month or more and it just keeps adding up but get a grip Steph. I'm tired of falling and having no one there to catch me.

Do you know what's even more pathetic? I'm being selfish and stupid because I feel like no one cares that my birthday is on Wednesday. I mean seriously. I hate my birthday. I hate people making a big deal about me. But here I am feeling all hurt because I feel like no one cares. For freaking 20 years I've been telling people to forget about it. It's just another day. But here I am at my 21st crying because I don't think anyone will do a single thing to make me feel special. What is wrong with me? Have I lost so much control that I'm seriously crying for some damn attention? And then to top it off, because my brain works only this way, the three people who actually read this stupid thing will read this and may feel like they need to do something. And if they do I'm going to think it's because I said something not because they actually want to. I'm screwed up. I really am.

You would think that after receiving an answer that I've been waiting for, for years would make me in a better mood. But I'm so overwhelmed with everything that I can't find time to really appreciate it. I still hurt so much. I still have so much inside me that wants to burst. I need to go somewhere and cry and cry and cry. But I don't want to be alone. I'm tired of being alone. I want to cry and have someone hold me and tell me it's going to be okay. But I'm not going to go ask anyone for anything. Especially because the only people I'm comfortable with have their own problems to deal with. They don't have time to worry about me. They shouldn't have to worry about me. It isn't fair.

Tomorrow, after school, I think I may go somewhere. Go hide. If I didn't have this deep hate for alcohol I would probably hide until midnight and then make my way to a bar and drink myself into oblivion.

Bigger than Me

I've never felt so much emotion in just three days before. And that's saying a lot. I held a whole lot in. More than I could really bear. I had to. This retreat was not about me. It was about the teens. Yet I may have learned the biggest lessons.

To say that I didn't want to go on this retreat would be an understatement. I've never felt more pathetically useless in my life. My whole world outside of church was already weighing me down so much. To top everything off I felt like there was nothing I could do this weekend. Everything had been going wrong for me. My only opportunity to really reach out I felt was my talk. But I wasn't allowed to do my talk if I mentioned suicide and so I made the decision to not say it. I had no choice really. Without it my talk lacked the meaning that I desperately wanted to express. But it was more than just my talk. I felt like my role on this retreat was minimal at best. I didn't feel like anything I could do would positively influence the program. I was just there because I was expected to be.

When the teens showed up my heart opened up a little bit. It wasn't that I felt like I suddenly could make some difference. I just simply loves those teens with all my heart and being with them gives me peace. Because of them part of me did want to be there. And not that I wouldn't have either way, but so I gave my best. They deserve nothing less.

I don't have enough energy or the right words to retell how every little thing impacted me. Because every little thing did impact me. Adoration, as always, hit me the hardest. I was seconds away from becoming completely hysterical but I reeled myself in, hard as that was. And even so afterward I felt this need to let go. It was exhausting trying to contain every thing I felt. During the night I kept having moments where I would lose control and I'd find myself with tears uncontrollably rolling down my face and my body racking with sobs. I cried in the dark just wanting someone to hold me and tell me it was okay to cry.

This morning when I woke up from the mere two hours of sleep I was able to get I felt drained and worn out in every way possible. My emotions kept creeping in on me and I began to wonder still why I came. Then as I was in the car with Chris driving home reading the affirmation letters that the teens and my fellow Core members gave me everything hit home. I want to share one that a teen gave me that made me completely realize why I am on this earth. Why I needed to survive everything I've been through. Why my life has meaning.

"Dear Stephanie,
I appreciate and thank you for all the time you spent with the group and I. I truly love you and your personality. You were very open with us. I felt comfortable and welcomed with you. You are a great joy to be around and I really hope I get to see you again. To me, you are a great role model and truly give me confidence in myself and how I look at things. You really made me change. I know I was sort of forced on this trip but you made me make the best out of it. You are a true blessing. Thank you again for the time you spent with us. Thank you so much."

Similar words were expressed to me in nearly every letter I received. I don't know how, or when, or really why but I made a difference. By just being the very person that I am I helped. God gave me something. I don't understand it exactly but He gave me something. I can make a difference. I'm supposed to do this. For the rest of my life.

God is so much bigger than all my pain. He's bigger than all my sins. He's bigger than my emotions and insecurities. His love for me overshadows everything. My prayer for so long is that my deepest desire is to know, love and serve God to the bet of my ability. I just needed Him to show me a way to do that.

Thank you Lord for showing me. Thank you for all those beautiful teenagers. Thank you for making my life worth living for.

Sometimes I wish there was private option on this thing. A way that I could express myself fully without everyone being able to read it. Not that I have anything to hide. I just sometimes rather keep things to myself without actually keeping things in. Does that make sense? I'm not sure if it does. Everything is kind of cloudy.

I seriously can't believe I'm not looking forward to this weekend. I have no desire to go. I'm not needed anyway. And everything seems to be going wrong already.

If this is some kind of test I think I may be failing. I'm in too much pain right now to really put up much of a fight.

I really want to talk to someone. Or right now, cry to someone.

Scratched

We have a retreat coming up this weekend and I was asked to do a talk on abusing a gift. Only one thing came to mind and so I wrote about it. It was easy and it came natural. I'm not saying it was a masterpiece but I think it had a good message. Father Greg, however, thought that a single event in the talk would distract the teens from the message. I disagree completely. I believe that saying that is underestimating their intelligence and their faith. I think my story would have an impact on my teens and help them in their journey. But I refuse to say my talk without saying all of it. It's my testimony. The entire thing. Not bits and pieces of it. So, I'm scratched out. I think it's a mistake but it isn't my call. So since I can't say it aloud, this is the best I can do:

To say that I regret anything from my past would be incorrect. I’m a human being and because of that I have fallen. Many times. But my mistakes are so much more than tally marks on the blackboard of life. They’re not a composite of years that I’ve earned in purgatory. My mistakes are an important aspect of the very person that I am today. So in a way, I’m grateful.

Junior high and high school were not the best days of my life. To whoever said they’re supposed to be, well I hope they’re wrong. Those days for me were dark and confusing. In a constant struggle to figure out who I was supposed to be I got extremely lost. All my life I’ve never had many friends. It wasn’t that I wasn’t liked; I just didn’t know how to socialize with those around me. I tried to fill my days with sport practices, games, and homework in order to take my mind off the emptiness I felt inside me. But each night when I laid myself to sleep I found myself crying. Nothing helped the loneliness and desperation that was consuming my every thought.

When I was 14 years old I found my faith. That in itself was a battle but I made my way to the Catholic Church and there I found a home. After that moment I thought my life would change. I had Jesus now, didn’t I? Why wouldn’t life get better? And for a few months things were better. I turned 15 and began high school and I was certain my life was going to change. I began getting involved with my youth group and going through Confirmation classes. I prayed more, I actually had friends, I fell in love for the first time and things were great. But those “good time” feelings were only temporary. I was in a relationship with a boy that for years I tried desperately to justify. I wanted to be loved so badly that I ignored all the red flags that were going up all around me. I got to a point where all I ever felt was pain. I couldn’t look in the mirror because all I saw was someone that wasn’t worth anything. So one night after I had gotten into a huge fight with my mom, my boyfriend, and had to say goodbye to a friend I gave up. I found every pill bottle I could find in my house and poured myself a glass of water and said goodbye. One hundred and eighty-two pills later I cried myself to sleep for what I prayed to God to be the last time.

To this day I’m still not quite sure how they found me. All I remember is waking up but feeling like I was dreaming. There were paramedics around me asking me questions but I couldn’t hear them. I kept trying to close my eyes but they wouldn’t let me. They picked me up and laid me on a stretcher and carried me downstairs and out the front door. I remember getting sick all of a sudden and leaning off the stretcher to throw up near a flower pot outside my front door. The paramedics said some other things but the only words I heard were “pill fragments”. Then my world went dark again.

A week later I was released from the hospital. The night I came in I had to have my stomach pumped. The doctors told me that the only reason I didn’t die was because I actually took too many pills. My body couldn’t digest them all and that’s why I began throwing up. Everyone kept telling me how lucky I was. I didn’t feel lucky though. After all, what had I accomplished? I managed to miss a week of school, great. All my problems were still there. I still just longed for everything to end.

The same night I got out of the hospital there was a penance service at church. I had no intention on going but I was riding my bike around the neighborhood and I just found myself riding toward the church. I didn’t really want to be home so I figured I could just go. I didn’t have to talk to anyone. I would just sit there.

When I got into church it was pretty crowded. There were priests in every corner and parishioners standing in line waiting their turn to confess their sins. I made my way to a pew and just sat there, thinking. My gaze made its way to the crucifix on the altar. I looked at Jesus nailed to the cross and before I knew it I was crying. At first I didn’t understand why. But the more I looked at that Man with His hands outstretched for me in a complete surrender of love the more I began to realize what I had done. God gave me life, the most precious gift, and I tried so hard to throw it away. I made my way to a priest and I sobbed to him the sins that I had committed. When I was done he grabbed me by my hand and looked into my eyes and said these words, “Jesus thinks you’re beautiful. Don’t ever forget that” and then he absolved me. I cried the whole bike ride home but not because I was sad. I cried because, for a reason to this day I still do not understand, Jesus saved my life. I’m meant for something more than I realized.

In Isaiah 41:13 it says: For I am the Lord, your God, who grasp your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Fear not, I will help you”. That night during confession God literally grabbed my hand. I can tell you with utmost confidence that He has never let go. I would be lying to you if I said that since that moment everything has been perfect. It would be dishonest for me to say that at nearly 21 I have everything figured out. Because I don’t, and life is still so very hard. I still fall every single day. The difference now is I know that I’m not alone. I know I’m forgiven, and I know that I’m loved.

Scattered

I sit here at my desk avoiding my homework and letting my thoughts run away from me. I have an urge to put on my shoes and just run. I have a desire to get in my truck and drive way too fast. I have a need to do things that I believe I should keep to myself. Hm.

I want to sit with a friend and have a conversation with them for hours. About what, I don't care. I just want companionship. I want to laugh, and not think.

I rushed Chris out the door and I hated every moment of it. When he kissed me goodbye it took all my strength to get myself to let him go. I wanted him to stay. I mean, I always do. But such a big part of me needed him to. He has to be up early tomorrow though. He has a PFT and he needs to be ready for it. I couldn't allow him to see me weak or in any sort of need because he would have stayed.

I'm not sad, and I'm not mad. I don't feel stressed, or concerned about anything. I just feel.... Well, maybe that's it. I can't feel anything right now.

Huh. I turn 21 in 9 days. Weird.

What was I writing about?

Heaven Sent

There's something breathtakingly beautiful about being in love. In love to the point of mild insanity. Alright, probably for me it is more than mild. But I'm okay with that.

My sophomore year of high school he was just another freshman that I had to tell what to do. When he missed practice that day without notifying me I had no problem replacing him on my team and making him the alternate. Never in a thousand years did I think that above anything else in the whole world that I would ever want that boy to be my husband.

I remember the first time we kissed. I kissed him. Hah. That's rather amusing considering he had to chase me for over two years before I agreed to be his.

Last night I was a pretty big mess. Actually I've been a walking disaster for over a month. I hadn't cried all that much though. Considering how miserable I've felt there have been very few tears. Last night I cried more than a month's worth. It was an exhausting process. One that made me sick. But it was needed and I'm so thankful that he was there to hold me.

Chris is not perfect. At all. He has a smart comment about everyone and no matter how many times I tell him to say excuse me when he burps he doesn't. He has a temper that I can't stand and he is never on time to anything. But he has the prettiest eyes that I have ever looked into and a smile that never fails to make me smile back. He makes me laugh harder and more than anyone ever has in my life. He tells me I'm beautiful every day. He looks at me like I'm the one thing in the world that he would die for. He makes time to see me every day, even if it's just for a few minutes. He takes care of me when I'm sick, and puts up with me when I'm PMSing. If I asked him he would buy me anything in the world. He's the only one I trust to tell absolutely everything to. He picks up my brother and sister up from school when I can't and helps them with their homework. He believes in the Church as much as I do, and never pressures me to do anything. He tells me when I'm irrational and rude and I honestly appreciate that very much. Most importantly every time I get scared and I push him away he stands his ground and pushes his way back to me. He wants me, emotional baggage and all. He's my very best friend and loving him is the best decision I have ever made.

I'm in a stage of my life where so many things are coming at me way too fast. I keep losing my footing. I keep praying to God for some help and as I sat in my room with my sister listening to every song Taylor Swift has beautifully written I began laughing. God sent me help over 2 years and 8 months ago. Before that really. Six years ago. He sent me you.

Brick Walls

I am not so naive that I ever thought that while my life was falling apart everyone else's life was perfect. I didn't think of myself as the only person being in pain or going through anything. I've never thought of myself as that. As though I'm the only one losing control. But I guess I mistakenly assumed that when I asked someone how they were doing they would give me an honest answer. Especially if that someone was my friend.

I'm not sure why I made that mistake. After all, I do not trust people. I'm always looking for a reason that they're lying, or secretly harboring bad feelings for me. It isn't a quality I like about myself, but it's there. Perhaps trust wasn't an issue is this matter. Maybe I was so selfish and consumed about my little world that I missed signs. I don't know.

I've come to realize that not only do I not know myself very well, I don't know the people in my life either. That's pretty pathetic considering how few people there even are.

I used to think I was a good friend.

Enough

I have been trying extremely hard to keep my emotions in check. Anger is not something I like to feel. But this is just too much. I'm not asking for a lot, am I? Perhaps I should have defined space better? Outline what it means when I say I do NOT want to talk? I thought I was pretty clear but apparently not.

You make me want to scream.

Because I know you're going to read this, here we go. Giving me space and not talking means the following:

1. Do NOT reply to this blog in any form. No comments, no texts, no messages on Facebook. Nothing.

2. Do NOT text me about anything. Unless you're dying, fine. But you should probably call 911 first. The beautiful sunset outside is not an emergency. I can look out my window and enjoy beauty on my own, thank you.

3. Do NOT send me anything on Facebook. Why the heck would you invite me to go see a movie with you when you know I want nothing to do with you right now? I don't care if it's two weeks away. No, no, NO!

4. Stop talking to other people about me. You're in this situation for a reason you're responsible for. Deal with it.

5. I don't care if you love me and you will until the day that you die. I don't care that I'm in your every prayer. I don't want to be, and I don't want your love.

Look, I'm not trying to be mean. The reason I don't want to talk to you is mostly because I'm afraid that I will tell you things that will hurt and I'll regret later. I'm extremely upset, terribly hurt and unbelievably frustrated. And every time I get things under control and I'm thinking of reaching out you give me another reason not to. It isn't that I don't care about you or don't want your friendship. But you're driving me crazy. Even the things that sound nice and I admit you may mean, make me furious. Please, please, PLEASE leave me completely alone. When I'm ready I'll talk. But not a second sooner. And each time you say something to me before that is just creating more time that I'll keep my silence.

Could I perhaps be more mature about this? Yeah, maybe I could. Could I not blog about it for the world to read? Absolutely. But hey, every one of your damn blogs is about me so why not give you something? Ugh.

Last night at mass was the most I've ever been distracted. Mass is such an important part of my life and week. It's the one thing I look forward to without fail. But yesterday I couldn't focus. Usually my distractions are very minimal and revolve around the tasks I have to perform during the Liturgy. For instance if I have to lector, if I have to run the collection or if I have to EM. I'm even more distracted when I have to do all three but even so my focus is still extremely sharp. Last night all I had to do was run the collection. A walk in the park. But my thoughts were everywhere.

I haven't received Christ in three weeks. I haven't gone more than a week without receiving communion since I was 14 years old. Not being able to receive causes me physical pain. The idea that my sin is the reason why I can't receive a God who loves me so much that He humbles Himself to be consumed in the form of bread makes me want to sob uncontrollably. Happy are those who are called to His supper. I am not happy.

I know what I need to do. I have to get myself to confession. It's simple enough, and I've had every intention on going since I stupidly chose to sin and separate myself from my Lord. But something keeps happening. I have to do this, I have to do that. I agree to go with my family to a movie and while I'm sitting there watching the previews I nearly burst into tears realizing that I'm going to miss confession. Again. I'm not exactly sure what's going on here. I'm just stupid and losing grip on the world around me? Or is something else happening? All I know is that I want to be in a state of grace on Sunday. I need to be. I want to be able to receive Christ tomorrow even, at mass at school. I hate being this way. I hate feeling this way.

There have been other things, too. I kind of want everyone to just go away. I'm not sure why exactly but I'm tired of...people? I don't know. In some way I feel angry at the world. There's no real explanation, but I want everyone to just leave me alone. I need time to think. Take control of my feelings.

I want to go to the mountains and just be. I'm trying really hard to figure out who in my life actually belong there.