Moving on.

Because of how funny and crazy my life is this blog can no longer exist. So I had to make another one. If you read this and love me and still want to read my craziness, well here's my new blog : http://smgnzlz10.blogspot.com/

It's been fun.

Dead Heart

My mom took me to mass at St. Mary Magdalene's today. There's two things wrong with that sentence. The car ride over there was interesting in itself. My mom was trying to pry details out of me that I did not want to give her. I kept yelling at myself for not hiding certain things. My mom seemed very amused by the whole situation. I was not. My life makes my head spin. When we arrived at the church I was calm. I liked the feeling of being invisible. I liked that no one knew me and I felt like I didn't need to hide. But at the same time I longed for some sort of familiarity. It was like my heart was being tugged in two different directions. I found my mom and I a seat and I sat down and tried to take in my surroundings. I was filled with unimaginable emptiness. Week two. A video played before mass and I thought to myself, "If this becomes my parish, maybe I'll get involved with that". Mass started and I sang the opening song with as much devotion as I could manage at that moment. Last week I couldn't utter a word. This week I sang. I used my perfectly out of tune voice and lifted it up to God. I focused on every word. But nothing. I couldn't feel anything.

You have to understand how Catholic I am. How attentive I am at every mass. How it brings me to tears and sets my heart on fire. The truth is that during mass Heaven meets Earth. Being Catholic and understanding and believing what I do is my greatest gift. So for me to know these truths and experience what I'm experiencing does not make sense. I'm fighting to feel Him. But He isn't there. I'm just empty.

During communion I sat in my chair and I was singing with my whole heart. I wanted Heaven to hear me. I was pleading. My prayer was broken up when I heard someone sniffle and I looked up and noticed my mom was crying. I looked at her and I touched her hand and asked her what was wrong but she just shook her head. I wondered if she felt something.

When mass ended and I was sitting in my mom's car with the bulletin in my hand I couldn't help but look through it. I was looking for only something in particular. Youth Group. I wonder if they would want me.


Tonight as I sat eating dinner by myself I had a thought. I was taken back ironically to the first time I had attempted suicide and I was in the behavioral health center. I was 13 and they had just asked me where I saw myself in 10 years. I remember being hesitant in my response. Even though I knew what I wanted. I think I honestly always deep down know what I ultimately want. The lady leading the session interpreted my scattered response for me and my hesitation and said the following, more or less. I have a good memory. "You're alone in an apartment. Maybe a studio or something small. And somehow some way you've managed to make it. But you just don't give yourself credit, do you? But you long for this sort of freedom where you can express yourself in ways that you aren't even sure of yet. You want to do great things. I imagine, actually, you want to save the world. What are you afraid of Stephanie? You want to get out, so get out. Don't allow people to limit your potential. You've been here less than two hours and you've already made a difference. I'm not sure you have even the slightest clue who you are and who you're capable of being."
I'm not quite 23 and my life is not where I expected it to be. At all. In any way. But I do have this apartment. And I'm almost always alone. I have a degree. And I do think I can save the world. I just need my heart to start beating again. Because I know exactly what I'm supposed to do with my life but I can't do it if my heart feels empty when I walk into a church.

There's a Song for This

”I want to build my life around a country song”

I am so way in over my head. It's beyond me how I can be filled with so many thoughts and emotions. Can't anything in my life be simple? ”All I wanted was a white knight with a good heart, soft touch, fast horse. Ride me off into the sunset and baby I'm forever yours”. I mean really. But instead I'm left singing ” its so complicated, so frustrated. I want to hold you close, I want to push you away, I want to make you go, I want to make you stay.” But honestly ”I've been walking in the wrong direction, I can barely recognize my own refection, oh, scared of love but scared of life alone”.

I love how you make me feel but I hate it at the same time.

Do you remember when what you and I had was....perfect? What happened? Is it my fault? Is it because I got sick? Did life get in the way and this a part of growing up, of growing apart? Is this God's reminder of nothing lasts forever? Is it this place and this decision? What? I can't change anything and I can't go back. But I just don't want to lose you.

Off The Deep End

I think I lost my mind. What part did they remove? Really. Yet I can't help but just grin right now. Oh wow.

                                                                                                                               I want to talk to you so badly about all of this

What exactly changed in the past few weeks? Because I'm sure I really was angry at some point. I'm sure I really just wanted a never. Actually, I'm pretty sure just last week I wanted nothing. Maybe. But then I think I'm just desperate to lie to myself. I'm desperate to convince myself that nothing I feel is real because that's easier. I'm so scared. Completely terrified. Why can't I just run away? Or hide? I have no idea what I'm doing. And I feel like I can't even talk to anyone about what I'm feeling. When I blurted to Katrina I was nauseous. But I was relieved too. Even if I didn't even actually say the words. I said the possibility.

I'm moving too fast. But I don't want to slow down. But I'm so scared. Rational Steph, rational. Where is this all coming from?

I want to talk to you. But I know what you'll say. I don't want to hear what you'll say. But I want to talk to you.

Is it so wrong that I just want to be happy? I slip into these moments of bliss and I want to stay there. Forever. Oh I think I hate that word.

And you. Why can't you leave me alone? I gave you everything.

I can't please everyone. I wish I could. But I can't.

My life is insane.

...with these things there's no telling, we just have to wait and see...

It's hard to eat when you're holding back tears. Thea came and picked me up for lunch today. It was wonderful to get out of the apartment. Even if it was unbearably hot outside. It was nice to be around people. To sit in a restaurant and be normal. I didn't say half the things I wanted to. Which was okay. I never really do. But I just can't stress how much it means to me to have people be around me that want to listen to me. I just need to talk. I just need to cry. I really think it all boils down to that. I don't think I'm asking for very much. But maybe I'm asking for the world. This soul crushing loneliness that consumes my very being. Oh my gosh. What do people see when they look at me? Can they see how broken I am?

I need so much comfort. I don't understand where it stopped.

What am I supposed to do?

Words I'll Never Say

I love when Jamie calls me. I love talking to her. I think right now she's the only one that talks to me. The only one that listens to me. I wish I could see her. I wish I could put my head in her lap and have her stroke my hair. Something tells me she wouldn't tell me to move it until I was ready. She never rushes me. I miss her so much. It's weird thinking we've been friends for almost nine years now. I was just a kid. So much time has passed. Yet it happened so fast. Thank you Jamie for never leaving. For never hesitating in stretching out your hand. I miss you.

I'm at odds with a lot of things. My heart is weighed down. To pinpoint my exact rationality would be difficult. Perhaps because there is no rationality to it all.

I want a passport.
I want to go to Haiti.
I want to learn how to ride a motorcycle.
I want a car.
I want to fall in love.
I want to go on an adventure.
I want a job.
I want to go to grad school.
I want to go to counseling.
I want to run.
I want to workout.
I want to go out.
I want to be someone people want to be around.
I want to go out of town.
I want to be missed.
I want to start over.

Golden Ticket

I'm staring at a note that states the following "Stephanie can work with no restrictions". It's signed by my neurologist. Honestly, I'm even taken aback by the "no restriction" clause. But instead of causing me some insurmountable joy it gives me some strange pit in my stomach. I'm not sure why everything in my life makes me want to cry like a baby and be cradled in someone's arms. I'm just a few months shy of 22 years old. Just yesterday I was crying to my ex boyfriend and I made the comment that instead of progressing with age I'm regressing. I stopped growing up and I'm falling backwards. I don't know how to be strong anymore. He told me I didn't have to be. That it was okay. I was strong for too long. But honestly, without strength, what do I have left? I spend so much time alone these days just thinking and slipping into crying frenzies. I hate how I feel. I hate this emptiness. I hate how lonely I am. I hate how badly I just want to be held and reassured. All of this is weakness. It's pathetic.

This note scares me. I'm scared of it getting rejected. I'm scared of it being questioned. I'm scared of me not living up to what it states. But maybe there's even more to that. I'm too hurt to go back. I just want to walk away from everything. Because I feel like I have nothing. I feel like I am nothing. And I don't know how to handle anything. I feel isolated. I feel burned.

IWYWHCOSSAMPB.

Would You?

If I asked you to drop everything you were doing and just sit with me for a while, would you? If I asked you to hold me and not let go for five minutes without making a sound, would you? If I asked you to take me in your car and drive with me to no particular destination for an hour or two just listening to music and singing horribly out of tune, would you? If I asked you to sit and just listen to me talk for a few minutes about whatever I wanted without interrupting, would you? If I asked you to talk to me about anything in the world so to distract me from the pain I was feeling in my heart, would you? If I asked you to tell me that you loved me and would never go away, would you? Or would you tell me that you were too busy and I should call someone else? Would it be too awkward for you and the silence be uncomfortable? Would you be too worried about gas and the time wasted? Would you get tired of listening to me talk and complain and just wish you were somewhere else? Would you find it hard to think of something to say to me? Would you get frustrated that I needed to be reminded again and just rush through it?

I don't want to ask anything from anyone. I already feel like I've emptied everyone's tank. But I'm just sitting here with too much time on my hands and too many thoughts in my head just wondering what everyone's answers would be.

Just A Little Understanding

I would give anything in the world for just a little understanding. For some compassionate love instead of angered frustration. I would give anything for someone to look at it from my point of view. And in order to do that you cannot just simply look at events that occurred within the past week and so-called miracles but you have to look at every damn single thing that has made me, me. You say you get it but if you did would we be having this conversation? How is it that I'm always wrong?

If anyone felt what I did they wouldn't last a minute. I'd bet the world and everyone's life in it.

I'm supposed to be thankful that I'm alive. I'm supposed to be patient. Because I'm not I'm labeled as selfish and ungrateful. I'm labeled as so many things. Because I'm not understood.

If things don't go my way I throw a fit. Yeah. Sounds exactly like me.

Obviously if there is a God, there is a Devil. And he's using everyone I love against me. And it's working. Because sure I'm breathing. I have a pulse. But I'm not alive.

Just Venting

Don't take any of this seriously if it alarms you. Actually, don't even read it.

My hands are shaking. All I can do is cry. I'm so tired of everything. I can't do this anymore. It was supposed to be better but everything is worse. Except for the dull ache the physical manifestation of pain is gone but I don't even care. My body is racked with emotional torment. My mind is haunted with too many things. I'm flooded with more than ever. I'm fine and then I'm not. I think I need to be institutionalized. Bars on my windows bars on my windows. Am I not already imprisoned? No work, no play. No work, no play. No one wants to be around me anyway. Visiting hours would be the same amount of time I would see anyone. My joy has been ripped out of my life. I've been punished. Maybe I did die. Is this hell? Am I in purgatory? Am I suffering for every wrong I committed? How could you take them away? I can't even go to the meetings? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I don't know what to do.

I want to reach into my bathroom and slit my throat. I think I have a box opener somewhere that would do the job. I just want my teens back.

why am I alone?!? why am I always alone? why can't I function anymore? what the hell is wrong with me? what happened to my independence? what happened to my toughness? How is this resilient Jamie?

I want to just leave. I want to start somewhere else because I look behind me and all I see is brokenness and I look in front of me and I just see a brick wall. I have two choices. Kill myself or runaway.

I've ruined lives. I've ruined mine. I'm a plague. Yet despite everything my love for everyone is so genuine. I know that because of how I feel. I honestly honestly love everyone so very much. None of it is faked. I would go to ends of the earth for anyone. But none of it matters. In the end, people are better off without me. I wish I was never born.

Why have I fought so hard to live to feel this way? It's cruel.

And I have no one.

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccáta mundi. Miserére nobis.

The year two thousand and eleven has been the worst year of my life by far. How I'm still breathing, still functioning, still anything is a miracle. Nothing less.

I sat in a wheelchair in the middle of the hall as my teens played a game of human foosball. As I watched them run and shout my heart swelled up in my chest and tears filled my eyes. Moments like those make me realize the reason for my existence. I know no greater love. I want to do great things. I want to be His hands and His mouth. I want to serve, and serve, and serve, and serve. Oh merciful Jesus how unworthy am I. But this is all I want. I want my life to be dedicated to Him.

During worship we sang a song. We've sung the song before and it always gets me. It always makes me feel like it was written for me. My heart pleads out with it.

He's not mad at you
He's not disappointed
His grace is greater still,
than all of your wrong choices
He is full of mercy and he is ever kind
Hear his invitation, His arms are open wide

You can come as you are,
with all your broken pieces
And all your shameful scars
The pain you hold in your heart,
bring it all to Jesus
You can come as you are

Louder than the voice that whispers you're unworthy
Hear the sound of love,
that tells a different story
Shattering your darkness and pushing through the lies
How tenderly he calls you,
His arms are open wide

You can come as you are,
with all your broken pieces
And all your shameful scars
The pain you hold in your heart,
bring it all to Jesus
You can come as you are

You can come as you are

You can come as you are with all your broken pieces
And all your shameful scars
The pain you hold in your heart,
bring it all to Jesus
You can come as you are

I can't even form the words my heart is feeling. Despite every human emotion and condition I feel and baggage I carry, at my core my main focus is Him. I just want to love until I die of Love. I want to be holy. I want to be His.

Lessons in Patience

I'm lying on my couch with the deepest desire in the whole world to express. My heart is screaming. I want to write everything I feel. Every single emotion that is tugging at my heart and strangling my soul. I want to be cradled and alowed to completely unwind without any restraint. I want to celebrate. I want to throw a fit. I'm completely unstable. But I'm so very alive. The events this past week are indescribable. Unbelievable. Brain dead. Hah. I have this memory. But I'm not sure if it's real. Or just some sort of exaggeration my repairing brain is attempting to form. I'm so exhausted. I'm blogging by phone because I can't even manage to stumble to my computer. Its okay though. Its okay.

I need to be patient. All of this is some sort of lesson. A giant lesson. My entire life. My ridiculously painful wonderful silly life.

My mind forgets to remind me, you're a bad idea. Hah.

Oh, one day.

Jesus, I love you.

Stress

I'm lying on the floor wishing desperately that I was home. Wishing the clock would stop moving, wishing my to do list wasn't so long. I'm fighting back tears wishing I could just be held and feel like I'm wanted. I'm so completely overwhelmed. I've never not known what to do like this before. I don't have any idea who to turn to. The burden of the world is coming crashing down on me. I'm literally having trouble breathing right now. I'm plagued by anxiety and I just want to run. Everything hurts. I'm so scared. I'm questioning everything. The validity of every relationship, the strength, the promises, my strength, my promises. What the hell is real anymore?

Somehow someway everyone in my life has this way of pushing me down. Of making me feel like I'm nothing. Making feel like I'm worthless and a failure. I can't do anything right. I wish I could get your voices out of my head. I wish you all could stop impacting me like this. I wish I just didn't care. I want to close my whole world off because I'm so tired of everything. But this uncontrollable fear and desire to not want to be alone consumes me. It crushes me. I hate it. I hate me.

I'm at the foot of the mountain with a long way to climb. But why should I even start the journey when I know I'll just be pushed off again?

Tell Me Why

I was driving home from my parents in Erin's car and Tell Me Why came on. Naturally it being Taylor Swift I turned it up and sang obnoxiously loud with her. Within moments I began crying. The lyrical content of the song took on so many different meanings for me. Furthermore driving down the road with my favorite artist blasting made me ache for the things that I don't have and filled me with the fear that I'm trying so hard to run away from. These past few days I've felt so alone. I have to conquer so many things and overcome so many obstacles and I've been promised that I don't need to go through this alone yet here I am. No one is helping me. If anything I'm carrying the weight of others right along with me. And right now I'm screaming at the top of my lungs, why? Someone please tell me why.

Last night my ex-boyfriend came over. I was reminded at how wonderful he really is and why so much of me is still in love with him while I cried hysterically into his chest and he cradled me. When I had no one else I had to turn to him. But even the heroics of Chris last night doesn't erase everything that has occurred between us. Or how so much of that song can be sung about him.

My parents destroyed me once again today. My dad this morning, my mom throughout the day. I'm not sure what I do wrong except everything. Really.

I took a chance, I took a shot
And you might think I'm bulletproof but I'm not
You took a swing, I took it hard
And down here from the ground, I see who you are

I'm sick and tired of your attitude
I'm feeling like I don't know you
You tell me that you love me then you cut me down

And I need you like a heartbeat
But you know you got a mean streak
Makes me run for cover when you're around

And here's to you and your temper
Yes, I remember what you said last night
And I know that you see what you're doing to me
Tell me, why?

You could write a book on how
To ruin someone's perfect day
Well, I get so confused and frustrated
Forget what I'm trying to say, oh

I'm sick and tired of your reasons
I got no one to believe in
You tell me that you want me, then push me around

And I need you like a heartbeat
But you know you got a mean streak
Makes me run for cover when you're around

Here's to you and your temper
Yes, I remember what you said last night
And I know that you see what you're doing to me
Tell me, why?

Why do you have to make me feel small
So you can feel whole inside?
Why do you have to put down my dreams
So you're the only thing on my mind?

I'm sick and tired of your attitude
I'm feeling like I don't know you
You tell me that you want me then cut me down

I'm sick and tired of your reasons
I've got no one to believe in
You ask me for my love then you push me around

Here's to you and your temper
Yes, I remember what you said last night
And I know that you see what you're doing to me
Tell me, why? Why? Tell me, why?

I take a step back, let you go
I told you I'm not bulletproof
Now you know

Expressionless

I want to be strong. I want to be someone people can look up to and depend on. I want to be that rock that stays firm even through the toughest storms and that you can hold onto for dear life. I want to take care of so many people.

But I have a problem. I'm not that strong and I need a group of people around me to be strong for me. To care for me. To grab the baton and finish my race. Or at least take a few laps for me. Because I'm so very tired and I'm out of gas.

I talked to Jamie for a little over an hour tonight. Talking to her made me feel normal again if that even makes sense. It made me feel like I had some sort of connection with someone. Like I was being heard and someone wanted to talk to me back. In all reality I don't really feel close to anyone in my life right now. My relationship with God is strengthening but with everyone else I feel distanced. I feel walls up everywhere and maybe it's just my imagination but it's making everything so difficult. As though I needed more on my plate. I'm so confused by everything. I'm so unbelievably lonely. I'm filled with so many things yet I'm so empty. I'm hopeful and trusting in His ultimate plan yet I fear so much.

I wish I could explain to you how I felt. I wish someone could hold me and tell me it's going to be okay and walk me through just a few days.

I wish I could catch a break.

Blog Title

Something I've always lacked is creativity. I tend not to think outside of the box. I'm not good with coming up with names or fun ideas. That's why some of my blogs don't have titles and why for a year and a half this entire blog in itself was practically nameless. This past weekend I ran into my old youth minister at Steubenville. Upon coming home he posted a blog on his website and he mentioned me on it. In his blog he described me as the following: "Back then she was a mess but a devout mess." I couldn't help but laugh when I read that. I'm still very much a mess. Granted I'm a bit more put together, all things considered, but I'm still a mess. But devout? I believe that is something I have always been. In so many aspects of my life. But Gary was talking about faith. It's nearly two in the morning and my mind is running a mile a minute. I want someone to talk to in order to attempt to organize my thoughts. But as the world sleeps and I remain awake I think about my life and what events have led me to where I am now and I can't help but be thankful for how devout I am. I have nothing right now. No job, no vehicle, no boyfriend, and more health problems than I like to admit. My life is a mess yet there is still this sense of peace in my heart because I know that God will take care of me. Things aren't going to get easy quick. In fact they may get harder. But at the end of the day I will be okay because through Him I know that I am loved and no harm will come against me.

Rooted

This weekend I went down to Tuscon, Arizona to my fourth Steubenville West conference. With about 40 of my teens, my closet friends and with 2000 other amazing Catholics I experienced God in a way that I so desperately needed. I planted my desires, my wants, my needs, my fears, my insecurities-my everything in Him. In a moment of complete grace the veil that covered my eyes was lifted. To say that I was blind would be misleading, but it is apparent that I have been walking around in a haze. I was that plant that had been uprooted and shaken by everything that this life of mine has given me and I had thrown myself back into the pot trying to hide my exposed roots. But the truth is God could see them! He knew that beneath that exterior of faked composure and bravery was a scared little girl desperate to be protected; desperate to be loved. But even after everything, after how many times my God has shown Himself to me and blessed me with His presence I never realized that for my entire life I've been looking for love; the love that I desperately need in all the wrong places. As a little girl and still as an adult (although in different and hidden ways), I looked for it in a family that I never truly had. I looked for it in relationships with guys and with friends. There's this deep void that has been inside of me that I've constantly tried to fill, but no one can fill it except Christ. It is He that needs to be my focus. My heart can not desire an intimate relationship with anyone else until I can perfect the relationship I have with Jesus. I sell myself short every single day of my life and God is tired of that. I deserve the world and God proved that when He hung on that cross for my sins so that I may live forever in Heaven with Him. God is begging for my attention and I've been so caught up in everything going wrong around me I've taken my eye off Him. I glance every now and then, but that intimate gaze that He desires is absent from my eyes. Christ has such great things for me. Erin tells me that one day I'll be a saint. Bryan this afternoon told me that sainthood is the path I walk on. The most heart warming moments I had this weekend is when one of my teens told me that they wanted to be holy like me and another that I would make an amazing youth minister. I am not one for compliments and attention makes me uncomfortable. However after all is said and done I do know this, my weakness is made perfect in Him. I'll be His instrument and will be permissive to what His will is. If that graces me with saint-like qualities, so be it, but all glory goes to Him. For now I know that I've fallen in love once again with the best Man of the Universe. My entire being is rooted in Him. I don't want to settle for the love that won't satisfy and bring me the joy that God intended.

For an extended period of time my words haven't been able to formulate. I lack the ability to describe the intricacies of my emotions and the depths of my thoughts. I've been locked in this stagnate of despair for years now. This desire to create something beautiful out of destruction looms over me like a dark cloud that's threatening rain. I ache with a desire to express my inner most torments but I'm so limited. I'm ramming my head against a brick wall thinking maybe I'll wake up from a horrible dream. But this is my life.

I'm tired of fighting tears every day. Even when I let them fall, I never cry enough.

There's far too much inside me.

Am I Worth It?

I want to know if I'm worth the fight. I want to know if I'm worth the struggle. I want to know if I'm worth the tears. I want to know if I'm worth the heartache. Am I worth changing over? Am I worth manning up over? Am I worth reevaluating? Am I worth starting over for? Am I worth loving that much? And I need to know now. Because if I'm not worth it, then I'll remove my heart from the line it still dangles on.

There's some Vodka in my kitchen that I wish I had someone to share it with. But maybe I'll settle with drinking it alone.

IJWTBGEFS

A small portion of my night was brought to you by Sara Evans. I put her CD in my truck, allowed my lead foot to push down a little harder and sang way too loud. If I could have any talent in the world it would be to sing. I love singing so much. I love music. I love the way it makes me feel. I love leaving my emotions in a song. It's a bit ridiculous. But I usually only have those moments when I'm driving. Which is okay.

To say that I'm okay would be a lie. I'm quite literally shattered. It took maybe an hour but I managed to glue myself together. Have I ever hurt this much? Funny how it is. Funny how everything is. I don't think there's one solution. I'd like to say that 95% of me wants to go away. Hurt you one more time but only because once I'm gone, I can never hurt you again. But then what? I just never wanted to lose you.

I don't want to explain my emotions anymore because I just feel like all I ever do is complain. No one gets it anyway. I'm a broken record and no wants to listen to the song I have to play. I understand completely. I've been tired of listening to the song too. For probably so many more years than you.

Do you know what the worst thing is? How I screw everything up and hurt you so much by just being me. By just being who I am.

And this is why I can't stand the person staring back at me every day.

I'll try to be better. I always try. But I'm already stretched so thin. And I can't possibly keep any more promises.

I'm regretting even writing this. Because it can be taken in a way that I don't want it to be taken. I'm just sorry. So very sorry.

There was a moment last night after I took a shower when I walked toward my bathroom sink to brush my teeth that I felt funny for a split second. But it happened too quick for me to react to. The next moment I remember I'm lying on the bathroom floor and my foot hurts, my head is pounding and I hear noises at my door. My body didn't want to move. I had no strength. But I forced myself to crawl to my door and unlock it. I expected my best friend to come to my side but she didn't. Instead Jacob came and was the one that asked me if I was okay. For perhaps a minute or less he held me and I cried to him. I wanted to cling to him and just have him hold me longer. I needed to be embraced so desperately. He told me the words that I needed to hear and I felt momentarily relief but as I looked out my door and saw her back facing me I couldn't allow Jacob's words to sink into my heart the way I needed them to. I don't know how everything will be okay. For anyone.

The tattoo on my wrist means a lot to me. It says a lot about the person that I am, and the faith I have in God. I screw up all the time. I'm a sinner but Christ died for me anyway. Last night words were said that hurt me. It wasn't their intention but it stung. I'm in a very delicate place right now and I just needed support. I needed encouragement and kindness. Not to be told what I was doing wrong and how I wasn't handling things properly or appreciating my blessings. Even, if perhaps, it was the truth. I'm my biggest critic without needing help from anyone else. Not that there is any blame to be administered. I shouldn't take things so personally. I shouldn't be so sensitive. Life experiences should have hardened me, yet they didn't. People pierce my heart so easily. Regardless, knowing I probably shouldn't drive and not wanting to cry in my room I went outside to try to breathe. I didn't intend on going anywhere in particular. I didn't plan on going far or being gone long. But I found myself going in the direction of my park and I couldn't stop. I just wanted to feel whole again.

The sprinklers were on so I couldn't sit in the exact spot that I wanted to. So I settled for a part of the playground. In that moment I once again forgot how to pray. It was like I was 12 again. I was scared, I was alone, I didn't feel wanted in my home and I was completely lost. I had my ipod with me and so I put in on a particular playlist and tried to open up my heart and sing to my God. I started to cry but I still felt so hollow. I still felt so alone.

After a handful of songs I just sat there in silence losing track of my thoughts wishing and wanting so many things. I moved closer to the spot where I wanted to be and just began talking. I was in mid conversation when my phone rang. I almost didn't answer, but I couldn't do that to you. After you hung up though, I couldn't focus again. I felt like my angel was gone and I was done being protected. God didn't want to listen to me anymore.

The night obviously didn't get any better. I had a terrible time sleeping as well. And today sitting here I'm battling all sorts of temptations. Maybe I should just leave. Start new. Or end somewhere else. Either or.

I can't keep feeling this way.

Perhaps I shouldn't publicize this. Not that this blog is longer accessible to the world but still. Even to my selected readers this may be too much. Not too much for you to handle because who am I to measure and to assume your strength? Or even the amount that this concerns you? I'm talking about this being too much for me. Even with the incredible support and love that I know I have so often I feel like I'm walking on this journey alone. And I'm terrified. I'm much more scared than I let on.

Today has been a bad day. I just want more time. Please. Dear God please. I'm not ready for the pain again. I'm not ready for the weakness. I'm not ready for the nausea. I'm not ready for the give out of my legs from under me. I'm not ready for my words to escape me. I'm not ready to have trouble reading. I'm not ready to forget everything. I'm just not ready.

I hate that I'm alone right now. Please someone tell me that everything will be okay.

I'm not asking for a miracle. I'm just asking to be allowed to live my life.

Push On

My head is pounding and I feel nauseated beyond belief. I'm light headed and shaky. My legs will be sore tomorrow. All of this makes me want to cry uncontrollably and throw a tantrum like a two year old. Scream out at the world that life isn't fair. But there's no point to that. Besides, if I really think about it, what got me to feeling this way may have been worth it. Two miles is nothing. I want more. I want so much more. I want to be faster and stronger like I used to be. This body of mine was not always useless. I can't be useless. I refuse to be useless.

I will not stop.

Story of My Soul

It is to you, dear, to you who are undoubtedly my best friend, that I come to confide the story of my soul...

That statement there is nearly word for word taken from the saint that is so very close to my heart, St. Therese of Lisieux. But when I read them I thought of you and I was hit with this overwhelming urge to say something. Do something. This blog is a poor record of my life and emotions. Its surface level at best. I think I'm meant for deeper. And youre the only one I trust.

Inching Away

It's something I've been avoiding. I knew it would have to come to this. Although the moments we have together are short and far in-between there's still that desire. We're like two shadows moving in the dark afraid of the light that's come to expose us. So much is left unspoken. You whisper with your eyes, and the gentle touches of your hand when you reach out to me like you used to. The way you pull back makes me question if you forget, or if you just want to. Why did you go through so much trouble of getting me to be yours for it to end this way? I hate how you make feel inside yet do I ever really want this feeling to go away? No one told me being in love was supposed to hurt this much.

My mind is racing. We're approaching a month and I know how little time that really is to be over you. We were together for over 3 years. But who are we kidding? We were in love for at least 5. I fought you. But you never gave up. You wanted me. And now what? Was it some game? You get the prize and that's it? Because for too long I just felt like nothing.

I don't know what I want. I know that I can't have you. Not now. Not with the way things are. But in the mean time? I just want to stop hurting. Maybe, even, get over you. Take some advice from Travis Tritt and Lari White...

"I'm not much good at playing games
I'm just trying to keep from going under
There's no forever in his eyes
It's not the love that we once knew
Oh and it might be a sin but tonight I've got a friend
Helping me get over you

Helping me get over you
One kiss at a time
'Cause all the pain that we've been through
Still weighs so heavy on my mind
Getting pass the love we lost
That's a lonely bridge to cross
So I did what I had to do
I had to find somebody new
Who's helping me get over you"

Failure

My life is a serious of ups and downs. Of bad moments sprinkled with moments that allow me to keep on moving. I'm overwhelmed by this, I'm overwhelmed with that. Yet I always find a way to fight. Whether it's some crazy inner strength that I was born with, the grace of God, an amazing support system that includes the world's best friend, or just some strange combination of all the above. But either way, every time I get even the slightest room to breathe I'm shoved right back under the water.

I think God forgets how strong He really made me.

But then, should I put any blame on Him? After all, it wasn't His mistake. I'm the screw up. Always have been. I try so hard to reach this level of "perfection". To excel in everything that I do. I do my very best in absolutely everything. But I still fail. It's never-ending. And it's all way too much.

Ramblings of a Broken Heart

I'm sitting here in an empty apartment and there's mixed emotions to that. There's this fear, similar to what I can only assume a child feels when they know they're doing something their parents will disapprove of yet they do it anyway. There's this sense of relief and serenity to the sound of the utter quietness and the time to my thoughts without having to be asked for at least a few hours how I am or how I'm feeling or what hurts today. There's this anxiety that makes me want to crawl back in bed and just sleep or read a book just in case something does happen and therefore I'll be less likely to cause any harm. There's this rebellion that wants to get dressed, grab my keys, turn the music up loud, drive to the airport, point to a place, buy a ticket and never look back. Write a note and tell the only person that really, truly cares how desperately I'll miss her and how much I love her. That I'd send her money every week. Somehow, some way still take care of her but I just couldn't do all of this anymore.
Why am I crying right now? Can't I be done crying? Of course not. Because above all, empty apartment or not, it's this emotion that kills me every day. My brain tumor won't destroy me. I actually feel stronger after the biopsy. Though who knows how long I'll go symptom less. It's this overwhelming sense of loneliness that will kill me. That's killing me now. I'm missing a part of my heart. And I hate it because I can't do anything about it.

I'm the kind of girl that would do anything for you. Really. But I'm imperfect. I lose my patience. I get annoyed when you're not on time, I don't like huge displays of public affection, I don't let things go, I'm too sensitive, I'm shy and awkward. I have more flaws than good qualities. I have little quirks that may annoy you. Like how I can't mix up my food. Or you can never buy me a necklace because I will not wear it. Sorry, but my crucifix isn't coming off. Or how I hate sitting completely on chairs unless I'm sitting Indian style on them (though yes, I can be proper when I need to be). I like ketchup on my steak and actually, won't eat it any other way. I hate onions so very much. When I run I have to count to 10 repeatedly in my head. I'm way too competitive. You can't talk to me or make me feel better when my teams lose a game. Especially a playoff game. Sorry just how it is. My work with the teens will come before everything. I love music. All types of music. But country will always win. I'm needy in certain ways. I need a certain level of attention. For example, I don't need to be communicated with every second of the day. But a two text conversation won't fly with me. I'm insecure. I need to feel like you actually want to talk to me. Feel like you miss me. Another example has to do with my self esteem. It's no secret that I have trouble looking in the mirror and even slightly appreciating the person staring back at me. I need to feel beautiful. And I'm not even talking about to the world or to myself. I need to feel beautiful to you. Then there's the big one. The one that everyone fails. Well, almost. I need to be reassured. And it's sadly an every day thing. Reassured that you love me and you won't walk away. You won't abandon me.
Maybe I should post a want ad:
Searching for a deeply devoted practicing Roman Catholic who can put up with me. I'm not trying to be picky, but it would be amazing if you could play a sport, in particular baseball. Romantic, please? Because I'm dying to be swept off my feet. Come on baby. Let's seek Heaven together.

But who am I kidding? The truth hurts.

Warfare

Something is happening to me that is far beyond my control. Beyond anything I have ever experienced before. I am caught between something that I am perhaps not prepared for. Perhaps not strong enough for. Yet I have to be. Funny how it always come to this. Always. Beaten, worn down, tired and at my last breath while the devil is breathing down my neck. Though I suppose it's taken on a different meaning.

I have two incisions on my head. A tumor removed, a section removed from another. My tumor has a name now, though that doesn't give me any more comfort. They want to try a radiation treatment. Then surgery if it doesn't help. I'll take the wait and see method thank you very much. Doctor thinks they removed a portion that was putting pressure on my brain that was causing so much of my problems. Can I hide my symptoms? Can I ignore them? Can some miracle occur and they just not come back? They drained enough fluid to relieve so much of my pain. Or am I still hyped up on too many drugs to notice? Am I lying to myself too? I'm so good at masking everything. I can fool the world. Let me fool the world.

I want to be someone else. Please. Run away from everything. There's a battle going on inside me. I'm not who I want to be. I don't do anything that I enjoy doing. I want to be free.

Despite everything what eats me inside is this feeling. The emptiness I feel. Three weeks is nothing, but it seems like forever. I want to be held.

So much is wrong with me.

Bear My Cross

I'm not exactly sure why but I was set apart for some reason. I was granted a gift that I truly do cherish. God reached down from Heaven and held a scared, broken and lonely 12 year old on a dark night in an empty park and planted faith in my heart. My life is supposed to mean something. Scratch that. My life does mean something.

I received the anointing of the sick today before mass. Father Greg before he started asked me how I was holding up. I answered him with a weak smile. He smiled at me back, but his smile was much more genuine than mine. He looked me in the eyes and said "Stephanie, youre strong and probably handling this better than anyone else is. They're all a mess but you have faith. But you always have. You're stronger than all of them. Your faith is deeper." I almost argued but I didn't. I just prayed to be healed. I didn't know how to take Father Greg's words anyway.

During mass I was hit with an enormous amount of pain. All my strength went into me not crying out in pain. But I just prayed. And I offered it up. Let my suffering mean something, please.

After mass I went to my parents. I can't explain how much pain was inflicted upon me in there. I'm so incredibly hurt. Yet as much as I can say that I do I know that it isn't true. I love you. And what I feel for you is sadness because something in your life hurt you and affected you to make you treat me this way. May God grant you peace.

Christ have mercy.

When I Get Better

It isn't new that I hurt. It isn't new that most days are unbearable. It isn't new that I fake most of my smiles and I compose myself probably too well. It isn't new that I'm unsure about everything. But I do know one thing and that is I will get better. I will be 100% and when I do there are just a few things that I want to do.

• I want to go to El Paso and put flowers on both my grandfather's graves
• I want to go to the Grand Canyon
• I want to go camping
• I want to go on a hike
• I want to drive to the beach with my best friend
• I want to play softball
• I want to play basketball
• I want my body back-where my muscles were defined and every part of me was toned.
  
• I want to go back to school
• I want a better job
• I want to rely on my memory
• I want to write without hurting
• I want to go somewhere I've never been
• I want to do something I've never done
• I want to feel something I've never felt
• I want to be loved the way I'm supposed to be loved.
  
• I want to let go and find healing.
  

I just want to live. I desperately want to live.

I miss the way your arms felt around me. I miss the shape of your chest and how perfectly my head rested there. I miss the sound of your heart beat. I miss the way your kiss took my breath away-every time.

You had no idea how much I loved you. How much I still love you. And how desperately I need you right now. Because truth is, I'm not sure I can beat this without you.

But it doesn't matter. You won't even read this. You've never read this.

I want to say so much more. And not just to you. I want to express everything I'm feeling. Release this mounting tension. But I can't. Staring at this computer screen causes too much pain.

Just Me.

I'm no good at this. It doesn't come natural to me to venture out. I flirted shamelessly, got a number, shopped at a store I've never purchased a thing from and it all just made me feel more empty inside. Erin made plans tonight so I had to fly it solo. I was tired of being in my apartment and I didn't want to be around Erin with her friend anyway. I certainly didn't want to be cooped up in my room. So I decided to use the gift card to the movies I got for my graduation. I took my seat and within minutes I was surrounded by couples. It was as though someone was trying to play some sick joke on me and it was obvious I wasn't finding it funny. I looked around the theater and I felt sick realizing I was the only one sitting alone. I almost left but I didn't want to waste a gift.

The movie I saw was Super 8. I actually didn't want to see the movie in the first place. But I didn't have much of a selection. Now you have to understand something about me, I don't get scared in movies. Okay, Paranormal Activity freaked me out. But other than that I'm fine. This movie made me uneasy. I guess it wasn't scary, it was suspenseful. And I had no one. With every passing moment that realization kept sinking deeper and deeper. I'm alone. No one to hold my hand and comfort me. No one to walk me to my truck. No one to walk to my door. No one to even come home to. I'm just alone.

As I pulled into my parking spot a song came on . I listened to it for a minute and I wanted so badly to live out the song. I broke down momentarily. But then I turned my truck off, and walked toward my apartment. There's not much to say. I have no one.

I guess I should just try and sleep now.

24 Tokens

There are labels to how I've been feeling. Depressed. Desperate. Alone. Heartbroken. Angry. Frustrated. Betrayed. Defeated... Do I really need to go on? Yet those descriptions barely even touch the surface to what's going on inside of me. I'm a whirlwind of emotions and insecurities and I'm too much to handle for the best of everyone, including myself. Desperate to release some of the pent up rage that's festering inside of me I made the decision to go to the batting cages after work.

Best decision of 2011.

Five dollars and I was handed 24 tokens. I grabbed a a crappy, overly used bat and walked down to the the softball cages. I skimmed the signs looking for fast pitch but I couldn't find any. Honestly, I didn't look very hard though. I was too anxious and uneasy so I just hurried into the last cage at the end. I put the first two coins in, pushed the black button and waited for my pitch. It came, and I swung and I missed horribly. I swung way too hard and way too soon. I yelled at myself to be patient. The next pitch came and I felt my muscles contract as I held my reflex back from swinging too soon. I swung again, and I hit nothing but hot Arizona air. My temper got the best of me and the next few pitches I swung furiously forgetting everything I knew. Tears swelled in my eyes and I felt like quitting but I liked the muscle ache too much. I'm too sick and out of shape for this kind of exercise. I went to put more coins in the machine and I took a deep breath. I began to beat myself up, telling myself that I was just a failure but I chose to stop. Yeah, that's right. I chose to stop. I put the coins in, pushed the button and got into a perfect bunting stance. I laid down ten perfect bunts. Five down a pretend third base line, five down first. I'm not a slow pitch softball player. I played fast pitch softball. I just needed to relax and get my timing right. I needed to breathe. I waited for the next pitch, counted in my head, and made contact. After that, I didn't miss a pitch. But it was more than that. I smacked the ball. Every pitch delivered with that perfect ding of the metal bat. I couldn't stop grinning. My heart was pounding and my hands stung. My breathing was heavy and my throat was beginning to get dry but I just fed that machine until I ran out of tokens. In that cage I forgot about everything. I didn't hurt anymore. I wasn't sick. I wasn't alone. I was somewhere else. I was someone else.

And everything was alright.

Under Construction

I tossed and turned last night, wishing the ache that had wrapped its entire force around my heart would not only release me, but would also loosen its grip on the rest of my body as well. Tears kept escaping my eyes though at that point I wasn't quite sure where they were coming from. They felt hot as they slid down my face and were caught by my pillow and part of me was slightly grateful for its warmth. The chilling fact of my solitude penetrated me deeply. I needed something to grab onto and hold, but the stuffed animals on my bed only reminded me of everything I didn't have so I shoved them all away. I just curled myself into a ball and begged for sleep.

I cannot ever control where my thoughts go. Just my actions. My actions last night were much harder to control than most nights. Between every pill in this house and the alcohol, it would have been easy. I would not fail. I began writing goodbye letters in my head. Some of them were angry. Spiteful. Characteristics that I'm not. I was allowing my wounded heart to take over. At one point I almost got up and went for it. I knew if I acted quickly I would do it. And it would be over. I wouldn't be here writing this with tears still streaming down my face and my heart breaking still into countless more pieces. No one would find me until what, past three? When I didn't show up for work? When I didn't answer a text? Or come out of my locked room? But then what?

This, of course, isn't all about a boy. Though he has a very big part in it. This is about how hard it is to live and function through the pain and confusion with this life-eating monstrosity inside my head. This is about putting everyone first when I'm constantly put last for everyone else. This is about being too much for you. This is about being strong, and putting on a show for the world and having to do it even for those that I shouldn't have to. This is about being unappreciated, used, mistreated, and never really understood. This is about not being worth it and having every relationship I have being based on conditions.

But you know what? Unlike everyone else in the world, I stick to my word. I keep promises. I don't just throw words around. There isn't a scratch on me. So the tumor will just take me. Or just life in general. As for me? I'm under construction. I'm building new walls.

If This Was A Movie

Last night I heard my own heart beating
Sounded like footsteps on my stairs
Six months gone and I'm still reaching
Even though I know you're not there
I was playing back a thousand memories baby
Thinkin bout everything we've been through
Maybe I've been going back too much lately
When time stood still and I had you

Come back come back come back to me like
You would you would if this was a movie
Stand in the rain outside til I came out
Come back come back come back to me like
You could you could if you just said you're sorry
I know that we could work it out somehow
But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

I know people change and these things happen
But I remember how it was back then
Locked up in your arms and our friends are laughing
Cause nothing like this ever happened to them
Now I'm pacing down the hall
Chasing down your street
Flashback to the night when you said to me
Nothing's gonna change not for me and you
Not before I knew how much I had to lose

Come back come back come back to me like
You would you would if this was a movie
Stand in the rain outside til i came out
Come back come back come back to me like

You could you could if you just said you're sorry
I know that we could work it out somehow
But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

If you're out there if you're somewhere if you're moving on
I've be waiting for you ever since you've been gone
I just want it back the way it was before
And i just wanna see you back at my front door
And I'd say

Come back come back come back to me like
You would before you said its not that easy
Before the fight before i locked you out
But I'd take it all back now

Come back come back come back to me like
You would you would if this was a movie
Stand in the rain outside til i came out
Come back come back come back to me like
You could you could if you just said you're sorry
I know that we could work it out somehow
But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

You'd be here by now
It's not the kind of ending you wanna see now
Baby what about the ending
Oh i thought you'd be here by now oh ohh ohh ohh
Thought you'd be here by now


My words aren't sufficient. All I know is it's over. And I don't know what to do. I'm alone.

Truth Is...

I'm a liar. I don't believe in fairy tales. I don't believe in happily ever after. I don't believe in the deep, passionate and aching love that so many country songs are about and I love to sing my heart out to. My relationship is far from perfect. It's actually hanging by a thread. And with everything else I have to deal with, I cannot handle this too.

My problem? How badly I want to believe. In so many things.

My life is a collection of Taylor Swift songs. But the wrong ones. Tell Me Why. You're Not Sorry. Forever & Always. White Horse.

Then to top it off there's this emotion. This stupid heartache over what shouldn't matter. I want to kick and scream like a little girl. I want to look into your eyes and tell you and just see if it would make any difference at all but knowing it won't. It was easier when I pushed it all away.

I can't even express myself the way I need to. Everything is jumbled.

Prayer Request

Lord,

Do you remember the night when I was only 12? When you gave me my greatest gift? You reached down from Heaven and held me in your arms. You planted faith in my heart that up until recently was unshakable. The last few months I've gone through a dry spell. I was going through the motions feeling so disconnected. I would have moments of clarity. Moments where it would all make sense again and my heart would be filled with that soul purifying longing that causes me to push on through despite everything. Lord my struggles are apparent. You know the secrets of my heart, the level of despair I feel and how much pain I'm truly in. It is not my place to ask you to alleviate my burden. I am not asking for the removal of my cross. I just need help with my promise.

Steph

So Much To Say.

I want to go to Utah and hide away in a cabin with you.


And sit on a porch with you.



Meet me halfway love?

The past day and half have been extremely difficult. More so than others. The pain in my head comes in waves and feels like a knife is being rammed into my skull. Mornings are worse. I open my eyes each day and I want to cry out in pain, just praying for some sort of end. Throughout the day my speech slurs, and I mix up my words. I'm not quite sure if others have noticed quite yet. They're very little mistakes, but they're very big to me, in countless ways. I rather have the pain. I'm becoming forgetful. Again, little things. But all these things keep me up at night, even though all I ever want to do these days is sleep. My body is so weak. I have no appetite. The pain is not only in my head, but coursing through my entire body too. A lesser dull pain. A nagging and constant ache. It intensifies sometimes. Creating my legs to buckle from underneath me and me to hold onto something to support me while I struggle to stand. I'm positive the doctors don't have it all figured out. There's too many symptoms and only one real problem they've found. A problem, of course, I didn't want. Not that anyone does. Still, his words keep going through my head. His tone of voice. I remember wondering how many times he had said similar things to other patients. How many had cried, how many had been angry. Or how many had just sat there like me and retreated far into their head and could only think about how they were going to go to bed when they got home. And then a Kenny Chesney song came roaring into their head. Maybe a few the former, probably none the latter.

I think I've made my decision. Whether it be the correct one or not.

Brain Dead

You get news like I get today and you expect support. You expect the ones closest to you to be there. You expect all those words about how you're not going to do this alone to mean something. You expect a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on. Something.

I can't make all of these decisions. I can't go charging down this road again. In fact I refuse. I surrender. Come what will, this fight is over.

And you aren't changing my mind.

Hold Me.

I've never considered myself someone of strength. I don't pride myself on how much I can handle or the amount of burdens I have carried throughout my life compared to others. I'm just Stephanie. Nothing special. That's all there is to it. I do, however, have a really hard time asking for help. Whether it's because I don't think I'm worth it or because I don't want to be a bother I hate doing it. But I'm really sick. Really sick. And I'm in an insurmountable amount of pain.and I need help. I need to cry and stop holding everything in because I hurt so much. I need to sleep. But mostly I need to not be alone. I can't do this alone. No matter how much I wish I had the strength to do so.

I'm running. No, I'm being chased. I use my height to my advantage. I've always been content being small. I can dodge things easier. Fit into spaces that others can't. I use all my speed and I'm getting away. Adrenaline pumps through my veins and my legs move faster. I yell at myself to not stop. I hear my heart beat and I run to its rhythm. I'm getting away. I'm going to escape. I did it. There's a bend in the path I'm running along. A corner I have to take and it's coming up fast. I'm almost there. I smile to myself knowingly. Even if my pursuer was right on my heels this turn I'm on the verge of taking would throw them. I'd gain critical seconds on them. My point guard speed and ankle-breaking agility would save me. Just like on the court the way I would cut through the paint and maneuver through the entire defense and lay in the ball without being touched. Life, after all, is just a game. A grin creeps onto my face as I round the corner. And then bam, lights out.

I should have known better.

Secrets

There is a certain level of emotions that I keep buried deep inside me. Buried deep down underneath a protective layer that is practically impossible to penetrate. For me it is almost a necessary survival instinct. Just in case even the closet of people in my life burn me I still have this. I still have this little sliver of emotions that they never touched. It would keep me from completely crumbling to the ground. Perhaps unconsciously we all have this compartment of secrecy. An area of our lives that is more guarded than the rest, even from those that we trust. But what happens when we keep vital information from others? What happens when nearly every problem that you're both facing lies in the secrets that one of you is keeping? What is worth protecting in that? But maybe that's not the real question. Who is to blame, really? Is it equal? The fault of the one who is keeping the secret? Or is the one who the secret is being withheld from somehow not trustworthy?

My thoughts are spinning.

I Want A Diamond

I love the way grass smells. Even though a big whiff of it makes my nose wrinkle and I have to stifle a sneeze. I love the shade of green it is. I love how each blade goes in its own direction, even just slightly. I love the way it dances when the wind blows. But let's be honest, I'm not in love with grass. In fact I believe it is as it's finest when it is hugging the thing that I am in love with; dirt. Oh but not any kind of dirt. That beautiful red dirt that stains your clothes. That gets in your eyes in those moments when you scoop up more than just ball and in one swift and graceful second gather the ball and rip it into first just before the runner hits the bag. Even after a hot shower, and a really good scrub, it still manages to leave its mark on you. A tinge of orange is wrapped around your legs. But I never minded it. It just means you got the job done. Left everything you had out on that field, on that beautiful dirt.

Other than pitch, I can play any position. But I'm a shortstop. It's where I belong and it's where I dominate. There's not a day that goes by that I don't miss that diamond. That I don't miss everything about that game. It hurts sometimes just thinking about it. Thinking about what could have been. My glove currently is right by my bed and I've been dying to just play catch. Because there's nothing out there like the feeling of a ball flying into your glove.

At one point I thought I was imagining it. My emotional symptoms were manifesting as physical symptoms. But this is too much. It's way too much. This familiar feeling of something being terribly wrong. The metallic taste of the blood in my mouth that seemingly comes from no where. The lack of strength. Oh how I have no strength. The smallest every day things that we all take for granted are so hard. Taking a shower tonight was such a monumental task. Holding my body up, raising my hands to wash my hair. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing down my face. I wanted to collapse. I'm so tired. So very tired. Every part of me hurts. And my head. The deep shooting pains that come in waves that blind me. The random moments when my face goes numb on my left side. But maybe what's worse is the confusion. Mixing up dates and questions. I can't do this.

What's wrong with me?

Bottom of the Ninth

I'm addicted. To the way you move, the way you speak, the way you make me laugh. Nobody told me you were dangerous. I should have known. You're poison injected into my veins. I fell into the trap you set for me and there's no way out. Not even she can save me. I find my ground only for you to take it out from under me. It's a cruel game you're playing.

And there's no way I can win.

Hero

When I was in 7th grade we had to write a paper about what a hero is. My paper apparently was well received by my English teacher. He asked me if he could read it to his classes. In particular on parent shadow day. It made people cry and was then published in the newspaper. I never understood the hype. How can something I wrote in less than 20 minutes without much effort be something of impact? I still don't know.

The point of the paper was to highlight humanity's potential. To show that our potential is limitless. Heroism isn't meant for a select few but an attainable goal for everyone. In fact it went further to say that living was heroic in itself. That kind of heroism I struggle with. Because what does living even mean? A heart beat and breathing doesnt seem to cut it. We, myself included, were meant for more.

There's something else though. A type of heroics that I want to be. For everyone. But especially for you. I want to make that difference. I want to make you smile when all you feel like doing is crying. I want to shelter you from the storm. I want to be the one that saves you. But maybe I can't. Maybe you'll never let me. And that just sucks.

Maybe I need to try to save myself..

"My past won't stop haunting me. In this prison there's a fight between who I am and who I used to be"

I defend you more than I should have to. Not because you aren't worth it, but because there is way too much misunderstanding. You're not who they see. You're not how you make me feel. And even if I myself find certain selfish tendencies apparent, I understand. I understand too much. So there is never distaste or unpleasant feelings toward you. Nor will there ever be. But sometimes I wonder if they're right. Or if I'm not as crazy as I think I am.

But in the end, does it matter? Because this isn't about you. It isn't about anyone. It's about my misshapen self image. It's about those who hurt me before. Hurt wouldn't even be the word. They destroyed me. Filled me with the worst kind of fear. And because of it I'll never feel good enough. There's a past that I'm constantly running from. But you can only run for so long. Everything catches up at some point. I have to face it. I have to reopen every wound and deal with it. Try to find a way to make myself stop blaming myself for everything.

Nearly everyone in my life makes it worse. They feed my insecurities. My sister just says I'm too sensitive. And I probably am. I can spin the smallest thing and make it seem like you said something hurtful. The problem is I don't do it on purpose. And the pain I feel over it isn't faked. I can't stop it, and when all I need is reassurance everyone gives me frustrated responses. I don't blame them either. I'm hard to deal with. But nothing gets accomplished other than me apologizing and stuffing in my emotions for another day.

Maybe if I ran away to a place where no one knew me I could survive. Redefine everything. Make up a new past. I would just prefer to not care about what you, and you, and you think. Keep anticipating the moment when enough is enough and you walk away. I don't want to hurt anymore.

Lost in the Pattern

Moving out was a very good decision. For most individuals however, moving out tends to overwhelm you with new responsibilities. I'm not in the least overwhelmed by responsibility. My responsibilities haven't changed. They simply cost more. Living in this apartment has allowed me to breathe. It has given me my necessary space and a sense of ownership that was seriously lacking in my life. But moving out has made me realize something as well. It has brought forth certain demons that for years I battled against. Loneliness consumes me. Nearly constantly.

I have this fear of being alone. Of being abandoned and having no one to turn to. I have this fear of crying so loud yet no one hearing me. I have this fear of being in pain, of being sick and dying and having no one there to hold my hand. Moments of solitude are inevitable. Often they're even necessary for our well being. But my senses are heightened and I feel more than I usually do. And maybe it's in my head but I feel like something is coming. A moment when everything changes. And I'll have to fight it alone and I won't survive.

Let's go back to 7th grade. A poem I wrote, keeps going through my mind. How I hate my memory. But what I hate more is how the emotions, after 8 years, are still the same.


Painted to the wall;
Lost in the pattern of the bricks.
Tears streaming down my heart;
My face an impassive mess

Dark pools of brown;
Looking on at a world which we all not know;
Failing to find any happiness

Silently screaming;
At lost for verbal words;
Filled with a pain too deep

Fitful nights, unwanted thoughts;
Haunting, terrifying, powerful;
Not being able to sleep

The darkness of day,
Seeping into my soul;
Overshadowing its sorrow and its gloom

A weapon of choice;
A dark piercing mind;
Left to wander this world alone

Projection

It's almost unrecognizable. The familiarity combined with forsakenness. I gasp for air but it simply doesn't come. Yet when I can't hold out any longer and I'm at my last breath something occurs. A tiny burst of oxygen fills my lungs and for a moment all I can think about is how sweet it is to inhale and exhale. To feel the beat of my heart steady. How good it feels to be alive. But it isn't enough air. The tightness of my chest comes roaring back, and I'm once again down on my knees.

I went with my best friend today to see her horse. I'm absolutely terrified of horses. My admiration is at its finest from a distance. Their beauty is apparent but being too close makes me uneasy. Watching her ride, however, was breathtaking. The way the horse moved with the most graceful power was daunting. But there was more beauty in her rider. The poise, the grace, the confidence, the strength, the thoughtfulness, the gentleness, the love, the stunning beauty. She's the epitome of perfection. But her perfection isn't defined by flawlessness. It isn't constructed through lack of error and mistakes. Her perfection lies in her ability to smile through darkness. To love me despite all my difficulties. To on a daily basis show me that not only is my life worth living but that I can trust not to live it alone.

As I watched both of them move my mind went a thousand places. My heart was filled with so many things. There was this overwhelming ache to run. To find consolation in a moment of freedom and no restraint. The uncomfortableness of all the things buried so deeply inside me made me anxious. I wanted some sort of escape.

Erin took Gypsy, her horse, on a walk and I tagged along. I kept my eye on the horse for two reasons. Yes, one of them was my fear, but another was something entirely different. I kept watching how she moved. The deliberate feminine like steps seemed almost surreal. Her body seemed to big for the way her legs extended but instead of looking awkward it displayed a graceful stride that was unparalleled to anything I've seen. Music played softly in my head as I watched each step. A quiet symphony to the dance she was performing. Perhaps it was simply my imagination, or the way my mind paints images and transforms them into words but I began writing a poem in my head. The lines are unimportant. It's the meaning, always the meaning that is worth discussion. However poetry is often left to interpretation. What I feel will not necessarily matter or make a difference to what you feel. Some things are best left unsaid.

I'm very weak. In countless ways.

Graduation

Yesterday morning I walked out of my last classroom that if I wanted, I ever have to walk out of. The final I took I had completely stressed out the night before and was the first and only test I have ever actually studied for. There shouldn't be any possibility that I didn't receive an A and that feeling comforted me as I walked away from a campus that I will dearly miss. As I stood waiting for the light rail I wasn't exactly sure how to feel. So much of me wanted to celebrate. To go out and be proud of my accomplishment but it's a little difficult to do that on your own and have it be the same. I brushed the desire off and just said to myself that I'll celebrate Friday afternoon with my family and friends. Maybe, when the moment was more real.

I graduated high school in three years. My plans and aspirations were to join the United States Air Force and serve this country that I love. My health got in the way however and so I had to change my dreams. I began taking courses at Chandler Gilbert in the Spring of 2008. Because of the wrench thrown into my life I had taken a semester off but my goal was to finish on time. By May 2011 I would be a college graduate. I was at Chandler Gilbert for a year and half and then was ready to transfer to ASU. The last semester at CGCC however I realized that my major wasn't something I wanted. It was my parents' dream for me to become a doctor. For me to make enough money to provide for everyone. As much as I wanted and even felt obligated to be that person I knew I couldn't. My life was meant for something else. So I called ASU and said I wanted to major in Psychology, not Pre-Med. It was a tough call but it brought some relief. However it was momentary because I then was hit by two things; how was I going to tell my parents? And now I'm even more behind in school because I had just taken a bunch of useless classes. Still, secret in my pocket, I arrived on the Arizona State University campus in the Fall of 2009 and was ready to get to work. I crammed it in. Took Winter and Summer classes and up until my last semester I worked a full time job too. I needed to graduate in May. I wasn't going to accept anything else.

I'm the first person in my family to graduate. I accomplished something my parents never could. Life, for me, is extremely difficult. I have to deal with a past that haunts me every single day. I battle my thoughts and temptations. My family problems are too much to handle and I am so often tired of being everyone's parent. My health problems wear me down and deteriorate my already weakened mental state. I have more trouble cognitively than I let on and I keep waiting for the day that something occurs that provides the knockout punch. My present difficulties come from every angle and I don't even discuss half of it. This past year alone has brought me to my knees gasping for air and struggling so much to get back up. But despite all of that, I did it. It's May and the year 2011 and I'll walk across that stage Friday morning.

That has to count for something.

S.O.S

Will anyone be my friend tonight? Because being alone these days is a dangerous thing. And I need help.

Please.

In Plain Sight

My life is radically out of control. In the past handful of months I've done three things that I promised myself I never would. Two of which I completely and utterly regret and one that at the moment I still don't know how to feel about. I've lost a friend, and began compartmentalizing what I can and can't say to probably, most definitely, the closest person to me. I've begun building different walls around me. I've entered, even just this weekend, to a particular place within my head that I can't be retrieved from. I'm retreating, and I'm retreating fast. Doing my part to disappear without really disappearing.

Yesterday after work I went to confession. As I sat waiting for my turn I was filled with anxiety. My heart was racing and I wanted to just jump out of my skin. I was so uncomfortable and my thoughts kept spiraling. I started to cry and I yelled at myself to stop. My heart felt like it was exploding. I went up to the priest and sat down in a chair in front of him and lost it. I have never cried during confession before. I have never felt so guilty before. So filled with sin. It took me a while to even begin confessing. The priest was nice to me, and gently told me to take my time. I managed to blubber a few things, tell him how I didn't know what was wrong with me, then struggled to reveal the things that bothered me the most. The mortal sins that were weighing on my soul. As always my penance seemed too easy. His advice was more promising to me, but I felt still so...dirty? My faith tells me the truth. God forgives me. But I haven't forgiven myself. I walked out of the church crying harder than before. I realized that during the entire confession, even though we were face to face, I didn't take one look at the priest's face. My shame is overwhelming.

I had to go shopping afterward. I hate shopping. The worst part though was my emotional state. I couldn't force myself to look happy. I couldn't manage to fake anything. I just told my mom that I was sick. Which wasn't a lie but it wasn't the truth either. I was just so miserable. And I wore every emotion on my sleeve. I had lost the strength to maintain my composure. The tears in my eyes wouldn't stay in. I'm so very weak. So very visibly weak.

The night prior I somehow fell down in my kitchen. I hit my head on the counter on the way down. I woke up at some point later and there was blood everywhere. The cut on my head isn't very big, but it bled very well. I think back and think how I'm lucky that I even woke up in the first place. Erin is in New Mexico so she couldn't be my hero that night. Please bear with me, but the amount of blood was startling. The loss of memory was alarming and the fact that I was alone was more painful than the pounding of my head. In an instant I was upset over the fact that I woke up. But then what, Erin would come home Sunday and find me there? I would never wish that on her. She loves me too much. But I can't help but long for that sort of end. Knowing that my promise keeps me from doing it myself and therefore wishing somehow death finds another door to enter. Because look at me! My despair is completely visible. My heartache is in plain sight. Am I not already dead? Because the promise God made me that He wouldn't give me too much to handle has to be broken. I can't handle any of this. Not anymore.

But that blood and this pain? I guess it does mean that I'm still breathing.

Let's Go Back. And Stay Awhile.

Years ago I was in Utah visiting Jamie. We were in her room just talking. Inevitability, something was wrong with me. How I got there I have no idea but I vividly remember my head on her lap. She was stroking my hair and it was one of the most comforting things that I had ever felt. It was the first time anyone had ever done that to me. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. It was soothing and I felt safe. I knew that she was my friend and she loved me so much. Jamie began talking, as she does. But there is something so special to when Jamie talks. Part of it is her voice. It has this calming effect that I can't describe. But a good portion of it has to do with what she says. She has this uncanny way of knowing what is appropriate. When it's best to deal with the situation at hand or distract me. She doesn't push me, yet she leaves the door wide open. She's patient with me, perhaps sometimes to a fault. This particular day in her room Jamie decided to tell me a story. She held my head gently and brushed her fingers through my hair and told me about her childhood at her cabin. She described everything with detail. Her voice inflected emotion and the love she has for the wonderful people that raised her, and the sisters she grew up with. I closed my eyes and pictured the scene she was painting for me. I nearly felt the love and happiness that had been missing from my life, from my childhood. I never wanted it to end. I wanted to just be safe forever. Feel loved. Feel cared about. But eventually I had to get up. Eventually I had to come back home. Eventually I had to continue to grow up.

Last night I was in bed and my insides were shaking. My heart was beating too fast. My head hurt more than I could really bear and all I wanted to do was cry. I closed my eyes and that moment with Jamie entered my mind. I just wish I could go back.

Often we reminiscence about our childhood and how easy things were. We think about years spent playing, laughing, and simply being oblivious to real pain. We say if only we could back to here, or back to there. Most of the time it's chunk of years. Go back to kindergarten, first grade, elementary school as a whole. But my childhood knew pain at a very young age. I can't say I just want to go back to being a kid. I only, throughout my 21 years, can give you moments. Days at best, but mostly just an hour or two. A tiny fragment of time when the world seemed better. When my heart didn't feel as though it was breaking within my chest. When my tears weren't unseen but lovingly wiped away. When a smile spread across my face and wasn't forced or completely fake. When I didn't feel alone, or like I was in some way a burden.

I just want a little bit of sunshine for my cloudy day.

Not Worth It.

I've never been good enough for anyone. I'm not smart enough. Not pretty enough. Not skinny enough. Not fun enough. I just fall short on every little thing. I'm defective, through and through.

But when will someone see past that? Love me despite? Make me feel like I'm worth something? When am I going to be rescued? Saved from myself? When will it be that I'm not taken advantage of? Not used? Not abused? When will I know love?

Someone, please. Grab my hand and take me. Take me far away from everything. Take me and keep me safe. I don't want to go at it alone.

I'm lost. Back into a dark corner and I can't see my way out. Every instinct in my body screams at me to give up.

I have no one to talk to. Not about this. I'm left to deal with my own thoughts. To fight on my own. It's a burden I can't share.

God, where are you?

Incoherent Thoughts

Why is it that I constantly find myself alone? Left to be carried away with my thoughts and temptations? I'm not sure how to feel about everything right now. Whether to feel this emotion, or feel that. I want to do something to occupy my mind, to distract myself in some way. But what is there to do? Watch a movie by myself? An episode of Gilmore Girls to laugh at? Or should I just try to sleep?

As of late I come on here and I have so many words to say. An array of topics to discuss. But everything just doesn't come out right, or just doesn't come out at all.

Temptation is staring me in the face. I'm supposed to, however, be stronger than it.

Someone should measure my strength.

I have a support system. A good one. Yet it is still too much to ask for someone to talk to and someone to hold me while I cry.

I just have to continue to keep everything in.

Maybe one day.

I'm searching for someone, but it's far too dark. I'll never find you.

One day, I'll write something beautiful. One day I'll make a certain level of sense.

God help me.

Weakness.

I'm standing by my register at work struggling to breathe. My head is pounding in my ears. I'm no longer just mentally, but I'm physically weak. Last night I felt like a baby, needing to be close to Erin as I tried to sleep. I was so cold and my body ached. My head felt like it was being crushed. But despite every physical ailment my heart still hurt so much more. My eyes were closed but I was only falling in and out of sleep. Part of me was afraid even to open my eyes and find Erin not there. Even though I could hear her typing, hear her adjusting her sitting positions on my bed. I was scared to be alone.

I'm at work fighting to put that smile on my face. Talk without my voice quivering. But I'm struggling so very much. My hands are trembling and my legs seem like they can't hold me up anymore. Everything hurts.

I miss my sister.

I don't know how I'm supposed to keep going and for how long.

My best friend knows me better than anyone else. She really does. She's highly perceptive and I can't hide anything from her. Even if I wanted to, she would see through everything. I love her to death and even though we haven't been friends for years and years it's almost as though she's always been a part of me. Tonight certain things happened that angered me and she encouraged me to blog or to journal. Keep it private though. Just get the thoughts out and then sleep. Honestly, I listen to Erin all the time. But I need to publicize this.

My weakness is apparent. The armor I've had has been stripped away and I'm wounded on the field. There is a level of vulnerability that I have never experienced before. Trust is everything to me yet I trust so few. Complete trust only belongs to three people; Chris, Erin and Jamie. There's a couple more on the outer ring but that's it. Everyone is on the outside and it is very difficult to be let back in. But then there was you. A person that I quickly learned to trust and then was betrayed. I understood though, found forgiveness and moved on. Then you abandoned me. Shattered everything and tore open my scabbed over wounds. Still, I allowed you to stay. I cared so much I did everything in my power to look past it. Give you the benefit of the doubt. Even after my continued effort to show you how much you hurt me. After you continually disregarded how I felt because it didn't align with your perception of your actions. I pushed myself past it because I wanted to be a good friend. I wanted to make you happy. You placed me in a difficult position. One I didn't know how to run away from for a couple of reasons. You used my vulnerability against me and even when I begged you to stop you would only make empty promises and then push even harder. You knew so little about how I worked yet so much at the same time. You knew a specific part of me and you played it. You wore me thin until I had nothing left to help me stand. It was as though you were waiting. Just always waiting.

My recollection of events is clear. But then part of me is filled with doubt too. Because I realize how damaged my state of mind currently is. But how could I just blank out? How could I not know? But maybe I do know, and still part of me is trying to give you a chance. Trying to put the blame on me. I don't even know.

Perhaps my anger isn't the lies you told. If even, they were that. My anger isn't the way you portrayed me even after everything, I honestly tried my best to never paint you as the bad person. I took responsibility first. No, my anger is that I told you what I needed from you and you never listened. I told you where I stood but it didn't matter. I asked and you never even truly gave a valiant effort to give. My anger lies in the fact that I trusted you to be my friend but instead you took complete advantage of me. I tried to be there for you but all you ever wanted was one thing.

I am sorry for what I've done and what responsibility I hold in all of this. But I didn't deserve this. I don't deserve to feel the way I do.

I should totally be writing my research paper. Ten pages on religion and politics due tomorrow by 5pm. I haven't even looked up a source. But I'm not too worried. Even if all I want to do is sleep. There are bigger things.

I've been depressed now for over 10 years. Really depressed. I think it may have even started earlier than then. I just dealt with it in different ways. I've never been a happy person. Ever. My most earliest memories are of me at about three years old and all I really remember are my parents fighting. My mom crying, my dad being drunk. Waking up early in the morning and knocking on my aunt's door to watch Winnie the Pooh and Under the Umbrella Tree. It was my escape. She was the only one that saw me. Everyone else didn't notice. And most of my life it's been that way. It's almost as though I'm off the radar. Life goes on without me. And no, it isn't just my perception. My family has never noticed me.

I grew up fast. Too fast. There's a problem when your parents go to a parent-teacher conference and your kindergarten teacher just tells them that their child is too mature. That she thinks too much and carries too much weight on her shoulders. I think my parents just exploited that fact however. Because I specifically remember life getting harder in first grade. And well in second grade, my mom left me.

I've never had many friends. I've always just kept to myself. Stuck way too deep in my head. It wasn't that I wasn't liked. People talk to me and usually there is some sort of connection. I'm polite and friendly, despite my shyness. But the problem was deeper than that. I was just never understood and I wasn't going to waste my time trying to explain.

My early years were spent in a tree. Or sometimes on the roof. I'd just sit and think. Watch the world from underneath me. It was always as though I never belonged.

I moved to Arizona permanently in 6th grade. It was a very difficult move. Mostly because my life in 5th grade was improving. I was very popular, and no, it didn't go to my head. But I was noticed, and I knew it. And that year, my mom didn't miss a single basketball game I had. Words couldn't describe how much that meant to me. She had missed so many other games in my life. Coming to Gilbert, Arizona was a total culture shock and I got lost within it. I had been lonely all my life, but it didn't sink in until I literally had no one. Seventh grade I came home each day and cut myself. I don't even know how it started. But every day I took that blade to my skin and i have hundreds of scars to show for it. Then I developed an eating disorder. Once again no one noticed. No one. Until the day I tried to take my life.

My second suicide attempt was three years later. I was 16 and in high school. There was much more drama involved. There was also much more pills and I was much closer to dying. How I didn't is still beyond me. Because I didn't send that text to Alyssa. Not consciously.

I'm 21 and no longer on antidepressants. I stopped four years ago. My eating disorder is very much past me, even though I still hate to eat. Cutting is a constant battle, but hey, it's been over a month. Everything else though? The thoughts, the loneliness, the emptiness, the unworthiness, the self hate, the insecurities, the fears, the pain...so much worse. It is currently everything I am. Please someone tell me, what is happiness? Will I even recognize it if it ever comes?

If I could, I would travel back in time. Not very far though. Less than 24 hours even. But I'd go back and just somehow have what I need longer.

I'm walking such a thin line and I don't want to walk it anymore. But I have to. I promised. Everything in me wishes I didn't have that promise to keep.

But I love you and I don't want to hurt you.

I'm completely alone. I need someone to talk to but I have no one. Everyone keeps telling me I can't do this alone. But when I really need them no one is around. They just run away from me. Though I could never blame them. I wouldn't want to be around me either. But I just need someone. Anyone. Don't make me beg.

Resurrection

For the past few days I've been nearly emotionless. I've shut down. Battered and bruised I laid my head down to rest and I never truly got back up. I've shed very few tears. I've been alone, a lot. Especially considering I live with my best friend. I've had the thoughts to do something. Find success in dying. But I didn't have the energy to even formulate a plan in my head. All I've wanted to do is nothing. And even when I'm doing something, I'm really not. One of my coworkers had a conversation with me today. No clue what he said. He finally stopped me, touched my shoulder and said, "You didn't hear anything I said, did you? You're not here, at all. Are you okay?" I just smiled, apologized, made some lame excuse and walked away.

I got out of my truck and had way too many things in my hands. My phone slipped and fell to the street. Bam, another crack in the screen. I barely cared. I walked into my apartment and felt even more empty because the place was lifeless. No one was waiting for me, silly as that sounds. My boyfriend was heading over, and I was forcing him to stay with me tonight because I couldn't stand being alone anymore. Even the realization that he'd be there shortly, however, wasn't enough. I just felt very weak. I walked into my room to lay down until he knocked on the door and on my bed was a basket. Pictures were scattered neatly around it. My mouth couldn't help but curl into a smile. My heart was filled with warmth. Life, for a second, became so much brighter. I love my best friend.

Christ is risen from the dead. Death has no power over Him. In choosing to believe in Him, I also choose to rise from the dead too. But Christ understands my weakness. He understands my struggles and my needs. He understands what it feels like to have a cross too heavy to carry. So Christ has given me people to help me along the way. Jamie helped me through her texts tonight while I struggled so very much to keep on working. Erin showered me with love, and holds my hand through everything. And Chris is here to hold me while I sleep. It's Easter Sunday and Jesus is not in the tomb. I can't lie to you and tell you everything is better, but Christ gave me hope tonight and in a way I needed it. My detached state unfortunately could not connect with the significance of His resurrection. As much as I wanted it to. So Christ gave me His love in a different way. He loved me through Jamie and Chris. But mostly tonight, He loved me through the most amazing young woman that I know and have the absolute honor and privilege to call my best friend. He makes all things new.

I'll be okay. Christ is risen. Alleluia. Happy Easter.