Big Steps

It took one year and 26 days, but I finally did it. I made an appointment with a counselor and Tuesday night I went for the first session.
It was one of the hardest things I have ever done. But I’m glad that I finally did it. I reached the point where I was just so sick and tired of being so miserable. I felt like I’d hit the bottom. I had no more tears, no more prayers, no more excuses. I was finally able to admit that I needed help.
I went not expecting much. But I was surprised at how easy it was to talk. And how even after one session, I already feel a little lighter. I feel like I am going to walk through this and walk into the sunshine again. But most importantly, I was reassured that I am in fact, not crazy.
I’ve been toying with the idea of a counselor for months. And so many people were urging me to go….my pastor, a co-worker, and Lauren suggested it once or twice. I even picked up the phone several times and hung up before I finished dialing the number. I’d tell myself that I didn’t really need to go, that I’d work it out on my own.
The fact is I was just downright scared. I was afraid I would be like Emily and end up on medicine. I saw what depression did to her, and it terrified me that I was the same way. Ignorance is bliss, right?
What it boils down to is pride. Too proud to ask for help, to proud to accept help, to proud to admit I was, and am, falling apart.
So what changed my mind? I think I was slowly getting close to going. What tipped me over the edge was Laurie. While we were at the beach, I did have one “melt down day”. I found myself pouring out all kinds of things to her- things beyond what just a listening, caring ear could fix. And she didn’t try to “fix” anything. She didn’t tell me what to do, or try to have me committed. (hahaha). She listened and let me talk- but did say one thing that struck me to the core. She said “Melissa, I really wish that you would think about talking to someone. You have to be okay, because I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”
I love Lauren like a sister. She is a sister. We share a closeness and a bond that is unlike any friendship I’ve ever had. And the thought of her being as miserable about me as I am about Emily made me seriously reconsider the whole counselor thing.

(unfinished draft. Posted 9-29-09)

Emily's Tree

Emily’s sorority sisters planted a tree in her memory today. They had a ceremony at a park in Shippensburg, and they invited all of us to come. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go- for so many reasons. The sorority was such a private part of Emily’s life, I almost felt a little funny going. And deep, deep down…. I sometimes can’t help but wonder if she loved those sisters more than me, because she found something in them that I couldn’t give her. And I wonder if they know how horrible I was to her. Irrational? Yes, maybe. Paranoid? Probably. But you can’t change your feelings.

I kept going back and forth about whether I was going to go. I actually didn’t decide to go until I woke up this morning. And I am so, so glad that I went. They did an amazing job putting it together. I didn’t realize, but they’ve been trying to get permission from the Shippensburg Township to plant this tree for almost a year.

I feel somewhat ashamed of myself for being rather stereotypical.

Having never gone to college, and not being comfortable with, or having many, girls my own age, I don't get the whole sorority thing. But what I did get loud and clear was that those girls love Emily. And for that, I love them too. And they shocked me to my toes, they had a replica of the sorority pin for both my mother and me. Apparantley it's something that you can give to a mother or a blood sister. I cried my eyes out. Me, who doesn't cry. Argh.

Back at the sorority house, they have a collage of pictures of Emily that Tara made. And a shirt with her letters framed in a shadow box hanging on the wall. By the end of the morning, I felt about three inches tall. So much for stereotypes.

I laughed when Em told me she'd joined a sorority. I never thought she'd have fit in with the kind of girls that you think of when you hear sorority. I was wrong.... and I'm glad she had them in her life. Funny how Em would get soooo mad at me if I referred to anyone other than her as "my sister". Oh she'd get so pissed off. Obviously the rules were different for her, hahahaha. But that's one of the big differences between us I guess. I never minded if she had friends that she thought of as sisters. The way I see it, a girl needs all the sisters she can get. And watching those girls on Saturday, I could see that they do think of each other as sisters. And I'm glad that for all the times I wasn't the sister Em needed, she had them.

*sigh*

They chose a white dogwood tree. One of my favorites. One of the things that I hate most is that she's buried so far away. I hate not being able to go "see" her. The tree is not the same, but in a different way, it’s good to know it’s there.

Celebrate

I can’t believe that it’s the middle of April. Where does time go? The 1st has come and gone. Spring break has come and gone, and now Easter’s over….pretty soon summer too will be here and gone.

I’ve been thinking a lot about time. When I was a kid, it went by so slowly. It seemed like it was taking forever to grow up. Now I’m sitting here at 26, wishing it would slow down just a little.

I spent so many months dreading the 1st; it seems so strange that it’s over. I still don’t know what I was expecting from it. Nothing has changed, there was no magic turning point. The 1st came and went and Emily is still gone.

But yet, one thing that did change was my perspective. I think I wrote that I had been all set for one dandy of a pity-party on the 1st. I felt like I was entitled to it. I wanted people to feel sorry for me, and I wanted to let myself hurt. I think I cried all morning. If I hadn’t been so afraid of my boss, I would have asked to go home. Then that changed when I got an e-mail from my friend Kelly.
Kelly was on the Poland trip with me last year. You know how sometimes you meet someone and you just “click”? That was Kelly, Debi, and I. Those two really made the trip so much fun, and in just 10 short days, I made friendships that are lasting.
Here’s what she wrote:

Hi Lissa!

I am thinking of you and praying for you today especially. I know that you know that God is with you, but so am I, in my thoughts. I have no profound thoughts to make you feel better. I could remind you that Emily is in heaven, next to Jesus, feeling great. But, you know that already. I could tell you that it will get better with time, but I haven't been there, so I really don't know.

What I do know is that I am thinking of you. I know that you are always in my thoughts and prayers. I know that God stands with you every day and carries you through every day. I know that God cares that you are hurting and so do I. I know that you are loved!

Remember Emily today, be sad if you feel it. But, celebrate Emily also. Celebrate what she meant to you and your family. Celebrate what she accomplished in her short time with you. Celebrate the way that she changed the world. Celebrate her new life in Jesus!!!

Love you and miss you, and think of you often.

Kelly

I don’t know why what she wrote struck me the way that it did, but it put the kibosh on my pity-party. I think what I appreciated so much was that she didn’t pretend to understand where I was coming from. So instead of telling me that it will get better, etc… she just simply told me that she knew I was hurting and that she cared. But what resonated most with me was when she wrote, “Celebrate Emily. Celebrate what she meant to you and your family. Celebrate what she accomplished in her short time with you. Celebrate the way that she changed the world. Celebrate her new life in Jesus!!!”

Celebrate. It’s such a strange and unfitting choice of word. Or is it? It’s actually kind of perfect. I haven’t been celebrating much of anything this year. I’ve been too busy feeling sorry for myself, blaming everyone for not understanding the way I want them to, and just generally retreating into myself and trying to shut out the world.

It still hurts. Sometimes so much that I can’t breathe. I still miss her. I miss her presence. I miss the future that we’ll never know. I miss her dramatics. I miss the way that she turned my life upside down and inside out. I’m angry that it took her death to make me realize how many of her good qualities I refused to see. I seethe at the unfairness that there was so much left unsaid between the two of us. I just plain miss her. And I can’t imagine that will ever change.

But I need to hang onto the celebrate thing. I need to remember that letting myself become so immersed in the bitterness and grief is not a tribute to her life. Emily is gone. I can’t change that. No matter how many “what-ifs” I ask, or how many “I should have dones” or “if onlys”….no matter how many times I beat myself up for things I said and didn’t say… she’s still gone.

But what I can change is where I choose to go from here. And I can start by remembering that even though she’s not here, I can celebrate that she was.
I know I will have hard days still. Days when the sorrow hits like a ton of bricks. But she’ll never really be gone. She lives on in so many hearts and minds.
So Kelly, thank you. You’ll never know how much your words touched my heart. Its friends like you that remind me how blessed I really am.

Celebrate Life.
Celebrate Love.
Celebrate.

A sand dollar and a sign

I ended up, of course, going to South Carolina to spend spring break with Lauren and Rachel. I was kind of waffling there a month or so ago. We’d decided to go ahead and go to the beach house. Figured Laurie could hunt for a job there just as well as she could sitting at home. But as it turns out, she didn’t have to. She found out on the day before I went down that she got a job! Such a relief!

As I think I wrote before, I was really looking forward to seeing them, but in a small way dreading the trip. The memories of last year were really weighing heavy on my heart as I made that drive down.

Last year, even though I had some things that were troubling me, I was generally fairly happy. I’d needed to get away to clear my head, to bounce some stuff off of Lauren, but all in all- I was pretty much okay.

This time though, I needed to get away to try and mend the pieces of a shattered heart. In a way, it was kind of fitting after all that I was going to the place where I was last truly happy. When we got to the beach house, my eyes immediately went to the kitchen chair- that was the last place I spoke to Emily. Sitting on that chair while Lauren was, as usual, making something in the kitchen and, as usual, insisting that I didn’t need to do anything but sit and relax. With Laurie, sometimes it’s easier to just do what she tells you to do.  I think Em and I talked about what to get Mom for her birthday. And then she fussed at me because I hadn’t given her any ideas about what I wanted for my birthday. Just general chit-chat. I’m not a big phone person, so I don’t usually hang on for long. I wish now that I’d never hung up. And as I stood there, reliving that conversation from a year ago, oh how I missed her. But it didn’t hurt quite as much as I was afraid it would.

The next morning I got up early to go walk on the beach. I almost woke Laurie up to go with me, but I felt like that morning I just needed to do some walking on my own. And some talking to God. I’d been kind of ignoring Him lately.

I got to the shore line and there was not a soul on the beach. I can’t describe the feeling of seeing the ocean stretching out forever, and feeling like I was the only one there. In that moment, listening to the waves crashing, and feeling the wind tugging at my hair, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. I turned my face to the sky, and said “If only I could know that she’s okay. That’s all I need to know.”

I started walking, and had taken one or two steps when I looked down and saw a sand dollar at my feet. A whole one.

I love sand dollars. They are my favorite shells. I look for whole ones every time I go to the beach. I have a box full of pieces of broken sand dollars, but I’d never found a whole one.

Emily used to laugh at me all the time and tell me if I wanted one that badly, I could just go to the island store and buy one. But those don’t count. They probably aren’t even real- they’re probably made in China.

So when I saw this one in the sand, I picked it up and stared at it. And then I cried. Me, the one who never cries. It was whole, but the top was caked with sand and barnacles. I don’t know if I’ll be able to scrape that stuff off or not. But it doesn’t matter. It was there. It was whole. I’d asked for a sign.

I know some people may say that it’s a coincidence. But I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe with all my heart that He still finds ways to speak to us when we’re hurting, even without a voice.

And as I walked a little further, there was another one lying in the sand. Smaller, but still whole, with sand caked in the exact same spot as the first one.
2 whole ones in the span of ten minutes? I’ve searched for one for years. And the two were so much alike, yet still different. One big, one small- both bearing scars, yet still relatively whole.

Coincidence? No way. Somewhere Emily is happy and whole, washed clean of barnacles and sand. I believe that with all my heart. I asked for a sign, and I got an answer.

I was so excited to tell Lauren. I practically ran back to the house. I knew she’d get the meaning behind the story.

Later that week we walked to the other side of the island. She’d told me that morning that she’d prayed she’d find one or two herself. Guess how many we found that day. 10. All whole. Coincidence? Not a chance.

I found more healing this past week than I thought I would. And A LOT of fun. I felt- dare I say it?- happy. And more importantly, I didn’t feel guilty for being happy. Somehow, being away from the constant reminders of Emily everywhere I turn makes processing it just a little bit easier.

Last year was an ending, even though I didn’t realize it at the time. It’s a reminder of the last of life the way I knew it. But this year was a promise of a new beginning- that things will turn around….and a reminder that He does care about the details.

Sometimes He speaks so we can hear.
Sometimes He speaks through other people.
Sometimes He speaks through something as small as a shell.

April 1st

I’ve been angrier at God than I realized. Maybe angry isn’t the right word. Resentful, maybe. And yes, slightly pissed. Not because He allowed it to happen. Bad things happen all the time- the first five minutes of the nightly news tells you that much. And I’m not conceited enough to think that I should be immune to suffering. I think I’m struggling most with how it happened, the timing, and just the simple fact that I have felt so very alone for the last year.

But in all fairness, I think much of that loneliness is by my own doing. After Emily died, I shut down and kept everyone away. People can only be rebuffed so many times before they give up. I’ve been waiting for someone to come and help, and then growling when they get too close. I’ve been surly, curt, and rude- and sometimes downright mean. And I’ve justified it all because I “deserve” to be unhappy.
But I don’t want to be unhappy, not really. I’m tired of carrying around this hollow feeling in my chest. I’ve been blaming God for being distant, when in reality I’m the one who walked away.

I was a mess this morning. I was really starting to sink into a pity pit. And almost enjoying it. Because for a long time I’ve felt nothing. I want to feel something, even if it hurts.

But then I received three e-mails in a row from three of my friends I made on my trip to Poland last year- one from Terri, then one from Chuck, and finally one from Kelly.

While all three of them touched my heart, Kelly’s e-mail got to me the most- and she probably didn’t realize the impact her words would have, but what she said completely changed my perspective on today.

I have a choice. I can keep my heart closed off from everyone I love, or I can risk being open and embrace the hurt instead of allowing it to consume me. Because right now I’m slowly poisoning myself with bitterness. It clouds the way I look at everything. Embracing it and dealing with it is the only way I’m going to get through it.

I think perhaps it’s not really God I’m angry at. I think I’m just mad at me.