I've been avoiding my blog lately. Actually, I've been in such a funk lately, I've been trying to avoid practically everything.
You know that feeling you get when something's gnawing at you, and you just don't know how, or don't want, to deal with it? That's been me.
Job searching is the pits. I absolutely hate it. I dread logging onto the computer and clicking on the job pages. It's draining. It's tiring. It's depressing. And I'm sick of it. I just want this phase of my life to be over. I want to be employed. I hate that I dread Sunday afternoons because it means that Monday is coming and I have yet another empty week looming ahead. I am sick of my own company. I want to complain about having to get up early, and I want to count down the hours until 5pm again. I don't want to have to worry about how long unemployment benefits will last, and I don't want a guilt trip every time I want to splurge on a coffee from Starbucks. I just want to return to a sense of normalcy.
I do love being here. I love everything about it. I love the fact that I've only had to pull out the heavy winter coat twice so far this winter. I love the slower pace and the easy-going temperaments of the South. Someone at Kroger the other day told me I had a beautiful smile. And living with Lauren and Rachel is probably one of the best things that's ever happened to me. By all accounts, I should be deliriously happy.
It's just this stupid "unemployment" cloud hanging over my head that's messing everything up. Because the fact of the matter is, I feel absolutely useless. I know, I know. There are plenty of things I could be doing. I could be working part time. I could be volunteering somewhere. My mother thinks I should write a book. But I just can't get my heart into any of it because I feel so unsettled, and just out and out worried.
Two weeks ago, I went on an interview for an admin position for a manufacturing company. Then the next week, I got called back in for a second interview. I really thought I nailed it. Thought I was a shoo-in for the position, and that I'd already be working by now.
I still haven't heard whether I got it. And it is driving me absolutely insane. I'm to the point now where I almost don't care what the answer is. I just want to know. No, that's not entirely true. I really want this job.
The waiting is really coloring my attitude, and my outlook. Poor Lauren- I've been on a stretch of highs and lows for the last two weeks. I'm surprised she isn't ready to send me packing yet. My parents are probably rolling their eyes when they see a text message from me, whining about "why haven't they called me yet." I obviously am a firm believer in the whole "misery loves company" theory and am attempting to force it upon all those that I come in contact with.
In the big scheme of things- it could be worse. I've only been searching for a little over three months, and there were three major holidays thrown into the mix. Unemployment is still available, so long as I can get the extension. I have a place to stay, and a family that's not going to let me get kicked out into the street.
But I'm disheartened. And I don't know how to fix that. I've heard every pep talk, heard enough "something will come along"s, and tried every positive thinking method there is. Frankly, it just ain't cutting it. I never was one for platitudes. I'm too much of a realist for my own good I think. Or maybe too much of a pessimist. I wish I wasn't like this. I wish I could really believe what Lauren and my mother keep telling me- that they know something will come along soon. I guess it's a good thing that I have optimistic people in my life. Maybe their good attitudes are enough to counteract my pessimistic one.
And so there's nothing left to do but wait and try not to drive everyone batty with my mood swings. I'll wait, wondering if staring hard enough at the phone will make it ring on command.
Perhaps God is using this time to teach me some much needed patience. Or perhaps He wants to see just how close I'll get to going off the deep end. Or maybe He's using me to teach my family how to love someone at their worst.
I'm kidding- I know He doesn't work like that. But I sure do wish He'd help hurry this job thing along.
Meanwhile, I'll still be sitting here.
Waiting.
Showing posts with label Lauren. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lauren. Show all posts
Monday, February 1, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Munchkin
Laurie and I spent the weekend at the beach. She had off yesterday, Rachel was spending the weekend with her dad, so Uncle John and Teri invited us to the beach house for the weekend. It started off great. Until Saturday morning when Laurie got a call from one of our neighbors- she'd hit our cat Munchkin. Munchkin's 19... and he has a bad habit of walking in front of our cars. Our neighbor was backing up, saw him, and stopped. I guess she thought he'd moved, but she ended up backing over his leg. So she called asking Laurie where to take him to the vet. We figured worst case scenario was that he'd have to be in a cast. But then the vet called and said he'd fractured his leg in three places, but that his bladder had ruptured and he was bleeding internally. At his age, he wouldn't have survived any kind of surgery, so we had to put him down. Laurie was so distraught. Rachel and her dad went to the vet and they were with him when they put him to sleep. Then they buried him in our backyard.
I felt so bad for Laurie. I think this is only the second time I've ever seen her really cry. And it's such a helpless feeling, because you know that there is absolutely nothing you can say to make it better. She finally told me on Monday morning that she feels so guilty for going to the beach. That maybe if we had stayed home, Munchkin wouldn't have been hit. I wanted to tell her not to feel guilty. That even if our neighbor hadn't hit him this weekend, it could have very well been one of us that did. I wanted to tell her that there was no way she could have known this would happen. But I couldn't... because I know what it's like to struggle with that kind of "what if" guilt. And I'm telling you- it's the worst kind. I know what it's like to drive yourself nuts with "if only I had done this" or "if only I'd said that". And I know what it feels like to hear people tell you that you can't blame yourself. Even though you know it's not your fault... you can't change that feeling. And people telling you not to feel that way doesn't make it easier. But at the same time, I hate seeing Laurie struggle with those feelings.
When we got home, Adam had buried Munchkin too close to the pond in our backyard. The pond floods when it rains, and Laurie was worrying about something happening to his grave. Not only that, but he was also in the middle of the yard. I swear, men don't think things through. She wanted him buried on higher ground and closer to the fence. Someplace where we could put a little marker or something. And someplace where he wouldn't be walked over, or mowed over in the summer. Then she started crying, saying she didn't think she'd be able to move him herself. I told her I'd do it. She didn't want me to, she was afraid it'd be too hard on me too. But I insisted. Laurie and I are alike in alot of ways- stubborness being one of them. But I think I have her beat. I don't often put my foot down, but I out-stubborned her last night.
I managed to do it this morning. It was hard- I've never had to bury a pet before. Once I got the new hole dug, I had to un-dig the first grave. As soon as I sunk my shovel into the ground, it was a muddy mess. I was so angry at Adam- why on earth did he bury him in the mud? I swear men don't think. I was afraid to keep using the shovel... I didn't want to hit the box. So I dug him out by hand. By that point, I didn't think I could do it. I was afraid of what I'd see when I got to the box. I didn't think I could pull him out of the ground. But even though the last thing I wanted to do was unbury this little cat, the memory of the look on Laurie's face was somehow harder to bear. It's funny how you can find the strength to do the impossible for the people you love most. And fury has a way of motivating you too. Let me just say it's a good thing Adam wasn't anywhere near my shovel at the moment.
I miss that little cat too. It's awfully quiet around here without him. Even though I've only been here for a few months, I've been coming to Lauren's for the last five years. I got attached to the little guy. I came home this afternoon, and really missed him trotting out to greet me at my car.
But mostly my heart hurts for Laurie. I'm probably driving her nuts with my hovering. I've never seen Lauren this sad, and it's a terribly helpless feeling to watch someone go through it. People who aren't animal people don't always understand how attached you can get. But they really are like family. Even though it's not the same, watching her reminds me a little of what I went through with Emily. Grief is grief- and it doesn't always have to be for a person.
*sigh*
I felt so bad for Laurie. I think this is only the second time I've ever seen her really cry. And it's such a helpless feeling, because you know that there is absolutely nothing you can say to make it better. She finally told me on Monday morning that she feels so guilty for going to the beach. That maybe if we had stayed home, Munchkin wouldn't have been hit. I wanted to tell her not to feel guilty. That even if our neighbor hadn't hit him this weekend, it could have very well been one of us that did. I wanted to tell her that there was no way she could have known this would happen. But I couldn't... because I know what it's like to struggle with that kind of "what if" guilt. And I'm telling you- it's the worst kind. I know what it's like to drive yourself nuts with "if only I had done this" or "if only I'd said that". And I know what it feels like to hear people tell you that you can't blame yourself. Even though you know it's not your fault... you can't change that feeling. And people telling you not to feel that way doesn't make it easier. But at the same time, I hate seeing Laurie struggle with those feelings.
When we got home, Adam had buried Munchkin too close to the pond in our backyard. The pond floods when it rains, and Laurie was worrying about something happening to his grave. Not only that, but he was also in the middle of the yard. I swear, men don't think things through. She wanted him buried on higher ground and closer to the fence. Someplace where we could put a little marker or something. And someplace where he wouldn't be walked over, or mowed over in the summer. Then she started crying, saying she didn't think she'd be able to move him herself. I told her I'd do it. She didn't want me to, she was afraid it'd be too hard on me too. But I insisted. Laurie and I are alike in alot of ways- stubborness being one of them. But I think I have her beat. I don't often put my foot down, but I out-stubborned her last night.
I managed to do it this morning. It was hard- I've never had to bury a pet before. Once I got the new hole dug, I had to un-dig the first grave. As soon as I sunk my shovel into the ground, it was a muddy mess. I was so angry at Adam- why on earth did he bury him in the mud? I swear men don't think. I was afraid to keep using the shovel... I didn't want to hit the box. So I dug him out by hand. By that point, I didn't think I could do it. I was afraid of what I'd see when I got to the box. I didn't think I could pull him out of the ground. But even though the last thing I wanted to do was unbury this little cat, the memory of the look on Laurie's face was somehow harder to bear. It's funny how you can find the strength to do the impossible for the people you love most. And fury has a way of motivating you too. Let me just say it's a good thing Adam wasn't anywhere near my shovel at the moment.
I miss that little cat too. It's awfully quiet around here without him. Even though I've only been here for a few months, I've been coming to Lauren's for the last five years. I got attached to the little guy. I came home this afternoon, and really missed him trotting out to greet me at my car.
But mostly my heart hurts for Laurie. I'm probably driving her nuts with my hovering. I've never seen Lauren this sad, and it's a terribly helpless feeling to watch someone go through it. People who aren't animal people don't always understand how attached you can get. But they really are like family. Even though it's not the same, watching her reminds me a little of what I went through with Emily. Grief is grief- and it doesn't always have to be for a person.
*sigh*
Friday, December 4, 2009
Amused
After braving the crazy hordes of people at Wal-Mart on a Friday night (what were we thinking?!), Laurie and I decided to treat ourselves to a burger at Fudruckers for dinner. We sat at our table for about an hour, just goofing off and talking. Rachel is spending the weekend with her dad, so it was just us. I love that girl, but she definitely doesn't like to sit and linger. She's constantly on the go. So it was nice to be able to spend a little while just leisurely talking. As we were getting up to leave, one of the women at the table next to us asked Lauren how we were related. Before we could answer she asked if we were mother and daughter (poor Lauren!). Laurie was a good sport- we laughed and said, no- we're cousins. They told us we really resembled each other. I know Lauren wasn't wild about them thinking she was old enough to be my mother, but it tickled me that they thought we looked so much alike. :)
Friday, November 20, 2009
A month of Thanks ~ just because
I'm thankful for the quick, out of the blue notes Lauren leaves me. The no special reason, just because I think you're wonderful, and I want to say I love you kind of notes.
It really makes my day.
I'm thankful for the pictures Rachel colors for me, and the notes she writes me.. When I got home Wednesday, she'd written me a letter on her whiteboard, telling me how glad she is that I've moved in, and how much she looks up to me. It made me cry. And the sap that I am, I even took a picture of what she wrote so I'll remember it for always.
I'm thankful for the just because moments.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
A month of Thanks ~ Happy Birthday Lauren!
In the midst of what has turned out to be an incredibly horrid week... I do have something wonderful to be thankful for today. It's Lauren's birthday. And while I'm thankful for her everyday... today I'm doubly so!
Lauren is my mother's first cousin. Which I guess makes us second cousins. Or is it 1st cousins once removed? Or something like that. I never could keep all that straight. As a child, I adored Laurie. I loved her laughter, I loved her hugs, and I loved how she never made me feel like the annoying brat I probably was. She always told me how beautiful I was. And how much she loved my name. She listened to me in a way that most grown-ups didn't. She listened like the silly tales of a 1o year old was the most fascinating thing she'd heard all day. I loved how she made a fuss over me every time I saw her. I loved her for all those things, but what I probably loved most was that she was one of the few adults that never made a fuss about how tall I was getting. Perhaps since she's also tall, she understood. And as painfully shy about my height as I was, if I hadn't adored her already, she'd have become my hero simply for that reason alone.
After my great grandmother died, and then later after we moved to Pennsylvania, we didn't make the drive back to Columbia for Thanksgivings anymore. The last time I saw Laurie, I think I was about 13. Rachel was maybe six months old. Then in 2005, we had a mini family reunion at the beach. Lauren came with Rachel, and as soon as I walked in- there she was with that same smile and huge hug I remembered as a kid. (I must admit though... I was quite devastated and thoroughly dismayed when I hugged her back and realized that I was half an inch taller than her).
That week was one of the best memories of my life. We hit it off from the start, and spent many hours sitting on the beach, just talking. There are very few people that you meet that you have an instant connection with. I found myself telling Lauren things I hadn't told anyone before.
After we all were back home, I don't think three days had passed before I got an e-mail from her inviting me to move in with them. :) It took four years, but I finally took her up on it.
But during those years, she was there for me like no other person has ever been. She was the first person I called when something happened- good or bad. She was there for me when Emily died, and ever since. She's the one that finally made me take that step and go talk to a counselor. Sometimes I think she knows me better than I know myself. She knows when to push, and when to back off. She's more than a cousin. More than a best friend. More than a kindred spirit. More than a sister. She's all those things times ten.Lauren is one of those people that moves with a quiet grace, the kind that you don't always notice right away. She has a way of making people feel comfortable and loved. She has a smile that lights up a room, and a laugh that you can't help but join in with. She's beautiful- inside and out, even though she doesn't see it in herself as much as I think she should. She listens, she's patient, she encourages, and she has a heart bigger than anyone I know.
And now she's opened her house and has given me a place to stay. A place to start fresh. This past weekend when I got the news about Heather, she sat with me. Not saying a word. Just rubbing my back as I cried on her shoulder for an hour. She knew I didn't need words, or platitudes, or any of the other silly things people say. I just needed to know she was there.
I still marvel at how the grown up cousin I adored
as a little girl has become my closest confidante,
my bestest friend, and the older sister I never knew.
Today and everyday... I'm thankful for her.
Happy Birthday Lauren! I love you!
Saturday, November 7, 2009
A month of Thanks ~ a mish mash of stuff
I must admit, this morning I'm not feeling especially thankful for anything. Call it a funk, foul mood, or just plain feeling sorry for myself... but I'm finding it alot easier to list the things that are going wrong at the moment, rather than find something to be thankful for.
So I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and remind myself that there is always something to be thankful for. And of course, things quickly come to me. And since I'm not in a mood to elaborate on just one thing.... today I'm simply thankful for a mish-mash of stuff.
I'm thankful for the cats that slept on my feet last night because I think they knew something was wrong. Usually they don't stay with me.
I'm thankful for the teenager that makes me laugh and forget my troubles.
I'm thankful for my cousin that knows sometimes a hug says more than words.
I'm thankful for the comment my mom left me on my last post- and even more thankful for my mom.
I'm thankful for my dad who patiently listens to my silly questions about all things fish-tank related, usually when I'm calling him smack-dab in the middle of the workday.
I'm thankful for the friends who call and keep me updated on Heather.
I'm thankful for the internet, that keeps me in touch with so many people.
I'm thankful simply for the fact that I'm still here.
Now the key is to keep these thoughts going through the day....
Friday, October 23, 2009
Boxes, speed dials, and neon signs
Over the last month I've started and stopped at least four different blog posts about the latest change heading my way. I got to a certain point and then I couldn't find a coherent thought to tie it all together. I think in a way I couldn't write about it, because I still hadn't completely sorted out my feelings on it. Then before I knew it, it's come and gone, and I haven't posted a word.
Are you confused yet? I tend to do that.
I've moved to South Carolina. A week ago today, actually. It's been a long time coming- since.... well, about 2005 when Laurie first made the offer. The timing never seemed right. I'd get close to making a decision and then I'd get scared and change my mind. When the economy tanked, I told myself it made no sense to quit a perfectly good job (albeit one that I hated), and head off to a whole other state without one. Then suddenly I found myself without my perfectly good job, and out of excuses. So after alot of agonizing, going back and forth, fretting, and worrying "can I really do this", I decided to do it. And so I did. Packed up all my earthly possessions into a 6 x 12 U-Haul trailer and headed down the road. (With my parent's help of course.)
And now I found myself here a week later with my stuff for the most part unpacked and put away. (How is it that what took about three weeks to put into boxes, only took about three days to take out of the boxes?!) I woke up thinking this morning, "oh man, it's Friday... the week is almost over." Then I realized that this is not a vacation, and I don't have to go home on Sunday.
I find myself thinking of that word, too. Home. A few days ago I was updating my information on my cell phone. Speed dial number 2 has always been set to "home". Speed dial number "8" has always been "Laurie's house". But where is home now? For me, wherever my pillow has been has always been home. Home to me is my childhood in Alabama, the last ten years in Pennsylvania, Laurie's house even before it became my house too. I've even been known to say on vacations that I was ready to go back home, yet meaning the hotel or beach house we were staying at. But the question of how to organize my cell phone stumped me. Do I keep speed dial number 2 as "home", as in where mom and dad are? Or do I change it to where my pillow happens to be and make "home" my new phone number? Argh. As insane as it sounds, it's been quite a quandary for someone like me, who has a nasty habit of resisting change. Even on something as ridiculous as a cell phone.
I've finally stopped referring to my room as the "guestroom". With all my stuff in there it looks like my room. And with Rachel's help I have my fish tank set up, so now it even sounds like my room. My coats are in the closet, my DVDs on the shelf, my magnets are on the fridge, and I even have stuff in the attic. I physically feel like I'm home, now I'm just waiting to wake up and not feel like I'm on an extended vacation.
I've been searching and even applying for jobs already. Food Lion transferred me to a store here in Columbia, but I missed being on this coming week's schedule. So I've got another week stretching ahead of me with not a whole lot to do. I'm trying not to stress about finding a job. After all, I've only been looking for three days. I still have many months of unemployment coming in before I have to worry about "needing" a job right away. But I'm so tired of not working, and I'm feeling rather impatient. In some ways I feel like if I'm actually working, rather than sitting on my duff for most of the day waiting for Rachel and Laurie to get home, then I'll somehow feel useful. Moving here has been a long time coming. I've wanted to be here, and despite my whining, I really am excited to be here. In alot of ways I think this is where God wants me to be at this moment in my life. So I'm simply trying to remember that, and trust that since He's brought me this far, He won't suddenly leave me out to dry.
So here I am. Suddenly in this pattern of waiting again. Seems like the last six months that's all I've done. I waited for the Poland trip. I waited for moving day. And now... I'm waiting for a job. Waiting for a clear sign that says, "MELISSA! HERE IS WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP. AND THIS IS WHAT YOU NEED TO DO TO MAKE THAT HAPPEN."
(Flashing in very bright colors so that I can't possibly miss it.)
Does it ever really happen that way? I think it should.
Are you confused yet? I tend to do that.
I've moved to South Carolina. A week ago today, actually. It's been a long time coming- since.... well, about 2005 when Laurie first made the offer. The timing never seemed right. I'd get close to making a decision and then I'd get scared and change my mind. When the economy tanked, I told myself it made no sense to quit a perfectly good job (albeit one that I hated), and head off to a whole other state without one. Then suddenly I found myself without my perfectly good job, and out of excuses. So after alot of agonizing, going back and forth, fretting, and worrying "can I really do this", I decided to do it. And so I did. Packed up all my earthly possessions into a 6 x 12 U-Haul trailer and headed down the road. (With my parent's help of course.)
And now I found myself here a week later with my stuff for the most part unpacked and put away. (How is it that what took about three weeks to put into boxes, only took about three days to take out of the boxes?!) I woke up thinking this morning, "oh man, it's Friday... the week is almost over." Then I realized that this is not a vacation, and I don't have to go home on Sunday.
I find myself thinking of that word, too. Home. A few days ago I was updating my information on my cell phone. Speed dial number 2 has always been set to "home". Speed dial number "8" has always been "Laurie's house". But where is home now? For me, wherever my pillow has been has always been home. Home to me is my childhood in Alabama, the last ten years in Pennsylvania, Laurie's house even before it became my house too. I've even been known to say on vacations that I was ready to go back home, yet meaning the hotel or beach house we were staying at. But the question of how to organize my cell phone stumped me. Do I keep speed dial number 2 as "home", as in where mom and dad are? Or do I change it to where my pillow happens to be and make "home" my new phone number? Argh. As insane as it sounds, it's been quite a quandary for someone like me, who has a nasty habit of resisting change. Even on something as ridiculous as a cell phone.
I've finally stopped referring to my room as the "guestroom". With all my stuff in there it looks like my room. And with Rachel's help I have my fish tank set up, so now it even sounds like my room. My coats are in the closet, my DVDs on the shelf, my magnets are on the fridge, and I even have stuff in the attic. I physically feel like I'm home, now I'm just waiting to wake up and not feel like I'm on an extended vacation.
I've been searching and even applying for jobs already. Food Lion transferred me to a store here in Columbia, but I missed being on this coming week's schedule. So I've got another week stretching ahead of me with not a whole lot to do. I'm trying not to stress about finding a job. After all, I've only been looking for three days. I still have many months of unemployment coming in before I have to worry about "needing" a job right away. But I'm so tired of not working, and I'm feeling rather impatient. In some ways I feel like if I'm actually working, rather than sitting on my duff for most of the day waiting for Rachel and Laurie to get home, then I'll somehow feel useful. Moving here has been a long time coming. I've wanted to be here, and despite my whining, I really am excited to be here. In alot of ways I think this is where God wants me to be at this moment in my life. So I'm simply trying to remember that, and trust that since He's brought me this far, He won't suddenly leave me out to dry.
So here I am. Suddenly in this pattern of waiting again. Seems like the last six months that's all I've done. I waited for the Poland trip. I waited for moving day. And now... I'm waiting for a job. Waiting for a clear sign that says, "MELISSA! HERE IS WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP. AND THIS IS WHAT YOU NEED TO DO TO MAKE THAT HAPPEN."
(Flashing in very bright colors so that I can't possibly miss it.)
Does it ever really happen that way? I think it should.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Whirling thoughts and remembering
I could really use one of those Penseive things right about now. The last few days have been a complete whirlwind.
First things first... Emily. I woke up Sunday morning just in the absolute depths of despair. Laurie woke me up for church and I wanted to bury my face back in the pillow and pretend it wasn't already time to go. I missed Emily so much, and then on top of that I was already missing Laurie and Rachel.
I hate leaving- I really do. And ever since Emily died, I hate saying goodbye even more. I'm still really struggling with the whole "getting too close to people because I'm afraid I couldn't survive losing someone else that I love" thing.
I was really dreading the drive back. But this time it actually passed quickly. I turned up the music on my iPod, and just let the memories flow through. It was actually a peaceful way to spend the day. I didn't have to try and force a smile if I didn't feel like it, and I cried a little when I needed to.
Somehow her birthday didn't hit me as hard as the 1st of April did. Maybe it had to do with being alone. Maybe it was because I'd been so busy during the week I wasn't constantly dwelling on it. Maybe it really is part of that healing process everyone keeps yacking about. I'm not sure.
Part of me wonders if it's because I just can't let myself think "it's her 22nd birthday" because I know that she'll never be 22. She's forever frozen in my mind at 20.
I feel a little disjointed and that I'm rambling all over the place, but it's hard to sort all these thoughts out.
I sponsored the altar flowers at church on Sunday in memory of Emily. Daisies, of course. I wasn't there to see them, but I had my mother bring them home. I've got one bunch here. The other one I took up to the tree her sorority sisters planted for her in Shippensburg. I think she'd have liked them. That's the first time I've been to the tree since it was planted. It looks really nice. I can't wait for it to bloom.
Happy Birthday Emily.
I'll save yesterday's saga for another post. Somehow it seems a little less important since I started writing this.
First things first... Emily. I woke up Sunday morning just in the absolute depths of despair. Laurie woke me up for church and I wanted to bury my face back in the pillow and pretend it wasn't already time to go. I missed Emily so much, and then on top of that I was already missing Laurie and Rachel.
I hate leaving- I really do. And ever since Emily died, I hate saying goodbye even more. I'm still really struggling with the whole "getting too close to people because I'm afraid I couldn't survive losing someone else that I love" thing.
I was really dreading the drive back. But this time it actually passed quickly. I turned up the music on my iPod, and just let the memories flow through. It was actually a peaceful way to spend the day. I didn't have to try and force a smile if I didn't feel like it, and I cried a little when I needed to.
Somehow her birthday didn't hit me as hard as the 1st of April did. Maybe it had to do with being alone. Maybe it was because I'd been so busy during the week I wasn't constantly dwelling on it. Maybe it really is part of that healing process everyone keeps yacking about. I'm not sure.
Part of me wonders if it's because I just can't let myself think "it's her 22nd birthday" because I know that she'll never be 22. She's forever frozen in my mind at 20.
I feel a little disjointed and that I'm rambling all over the place, but it's hard to sort all these thoughts out.
I sponsored the altar flowers at church on Sunday in memory of Emily. Daisies, of course. I wasn't there to see them, but I had my mother bring them home. I've got one bunch here. The other one I took up to the tree her sorority sisters planted for her in Shippensburg. I think she'd have liked them. That's the first time I've been to the tree since it was planted. It looks really nice. I can't wait for it to bloom.
Happy Birthday Emily.
I'll save yesterday's saga for another post. Somehow it seems a little less important since I started writing this.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Birthdays and bickering, loss and gain
It's hard to believe that a week has already flown by. This time a week ago I was chomping at the bit to get out of the office and on the road down here to Columbia. Now I'm sitting in the quiet of Laurie's living room lamenting that I'll have to leave in just three more days and wondering how on earth time goes so quickly.
Emily's been on my mind alot this week. Not that she isn't always, but especially so this week. My cousin Rachel reminds me of her in alot of ways. This visit even more so. Rach turned 14 yesterday. She's alot like Emily when it comes to her birthday. She's been counting down the days on facebook and telling everyone her birthday was this week, and bugging me relentlessly about what her mother bought her for her birthday. Since Laurie doesn't have any vacation time, Rachel and I got to spend her day together. We didn't really do much- we made a coffee cake yesterday morning, then we hit Starbucks and the mall. We were at Old Navy and Rachel talked me into buying a scarf. I'm not really a scarf person, but she convinced me that I didn't look like a complete fool. So I bought it. Still not 100% sure about the looking like a fool thing, but...
Spending the week with Rachel reminds me of having a little sister. Not that I'm looking for a surrogate by any means. No one can ever replace Emily. There is no one in this world like her. But maybe there's a part of my heart that can shift over a little bit. This week we've been bantering and teasingly bickering back and forth. I've missed it. I've missed that subtle art of being able to tease someone without crossing the line, because you know you can get away with it, because you're family and you know they're still going to love you.
I got a little teary-eyed yesterday too. I've got the phrase "Love Never Dies" on the background of my phone. Rachel showed me that she'd put the same thing on her phone.
I've missed having someone think I was cool enough to be copied.
Someone once told me that when God takes something away, He always gives you something else. Nothing can ever replace Emily. No one can ever fill that spot in my heart. But those little moments help soothe the rough edges around the hole. And it's not just with Rachel- when I'm with my cousin Sarah I often get the same feeling. Those girls remind me of what I've lost- but yet they also reminds me of what I still have.
Emily's birthday is this Sunday. I bought her a birthday card, but still don't know what to write in it. And I'll be spending the day in the car, driving back from South Carolina. In a way, I think that'll be a good way to spend the day. Thinking about her, missing her, and just.... remembering, I guess.
I'm really wishing I could capture time and hold it still for awhile.
Emily's been on my mind alot this week. Not that she isn't always, but especially so this week. My cousin Rachel reminds me of her in alot of ways. This visit even more so. Rach turned 14 yesterday. She's alot like Emily when it comes to her birthday. She's been counting down the days on facebook and telling everyone her birthday was this week, and bugging me relentlessly about what her mother bought her for her birthday. Since Laurie doesn't have any vacation time, Rachel and I got to spend her day together. We didn't really do much- we made a coffee cake yesterday morning, then we hit Starbucks and the mall. We were at Old Navy and Rachel talked me into buying a scarf. I'm not really a scarf person, but she convinced me that I didn't look like a complete fool. So I bought it. Still not 100% sure about the looking like a fool thing, but...
Spending the week with Rachel reminds me of having a little sister. Not that I'm looking for a surrogate by any means. No one can ever replace Emily. There is no one in this world like her. But maybe there's a part of my heart that can shift over a little bit. This week we've been bantering and teasingly bickering back and forth. I've missed it. I've missed that subtle art of being able to tease someone without crossing the line, because you know you can get away with it, because you're family and you know they're still going to love you.
I got a little teary-eyed yesterday too. I've got the phrase "Love Never Dies" on the background of my phone. Rachel showed me that she'd put the same thing on her phone.
I've missed having someone think I was cool enough to be copied.
Someone once told me that when God takes something away, He always gives you something else. Nothing can ever replace Emily. No one can ever fill that spot in my heart. But those little moments help soothe the rough edges around the hole. And it's not just with Rachel- when I'm with my cousin Sarah I often get the same feeling. Those girls remind me of what I've lost- but yet they also reminds me of what I still have.
Emily's birthday is this Sunday. I bought her a birthday card, but still don't know what to write in it. And I'll be spending the day in the car, driving back from South Carolina. In a way, I think that'll be a good way to spend the day. Thinking about her, missing her, and just.... remembering, I guess.
I'm really wishing I could capture time and hold it still for awhile.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Lights, music, and a few tears
I am having the best time this week. It's Monday and I've got the whole week still ahead of me. I've only been here since Thursday and it already feels like I've been here forever. Coming to Laurie's always feels like I've come home.
This weekend was a blast. We drove out to Dreher Island State Park to watch the fireworks. It was a great view- right above the lake. The "live band" we thought we would be hearing ended up being less than wonderful. As Lauren called it... it was an "oompah band". Next year we've decided that between the two of us we could suck up to, and flirt enough with, someone with a boat.
I hadn't really been thinking about Emily alot- until the fireworks started. All of a sudden I got choked up and the tears were streaming from my eyes. I missed her so much at that moment. I was looking up, and wondering if it was possible for her to be looking down at the same time. Remember that song from An American Tale, "Somewhere out there"? That's what it made me think of.
Laurie was holding my hand, tears were streaming, firworks were booming, the song was playing through my head, and I missed Emily so much it hurt to breathe.
Happy 4th Em. I miss you.
This weekend was a blast. We drove out to Dreher Island State Park to watch the fireworks. It was a great view- right above the lake. The "live band" we thought we would be hearing ended up being less than wonderful. As Lauren called it... it was an "oompah band". Next year we've decided that between the two of us we could suck up to, and flirt enough with, someone with a boat.
I hadn't really been thinking about Emily alot- until the fireworks started. All of a sudden I got choked up and the tears were streaming from my eyes. I missed her so much at that moment. I was looking up, and wondering if it was possible for her to be looking down at the same time. Remember that song from An American Tale, "Somewhere out there"? That's what it made me think of.
Laurie was holding my hand, tears were streaming, firworks were booming, the song was playing through my head, and I missed Emily so much it hurt to breathe.
Happy 4th Em. I miss you.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
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)
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)
Saturday, April 11, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, March 27, 2009
So now what do I do?
So it’s still coming. That dreaded 1 year.
Long before Emily died, I started reading care pages of kids with DIPG, which is an inoperable brain tumor that typically strikes young children. A friend of mine’s nephew died from this cancer, and through his website I started following the journeys of other kids. Many of these children have died since I started reading their web pages, and their families have continued writing in the blogs. One little girl especially stole my heart- Grace. She died in February, only 2 months before Emily. Unlike the other journals, suddenly this one was mirroring many of my own emotions. Grace’s mother’s words often expressed exactly what I was feeling. Even though the circumstances are completely different, the intensity of loss, grief, and sorrow are still the same. When she wrote on the 1 year mark for Grace, she wrote that she looked at her husband and said, “now what do we do?"
Oh, that’s exactly how I feel as the day gets closer. Now what? There is absolutely nothing different about April1st. It’s not like we can say “okay we made it here, now things are suddenly going to be better.” If anything, the 1st of April is the last of the firsts. We made it through the first birthday, the first Thanksgiving, the first Christmas, and we’ll get through the first year. But the depressing thought is that I have to do it all over again. And again. And again.. Only the number in front changes.
What I seem to be unable to wrap my mind around is the absolute finality of it all. That it’s not all going to end on April 1st. That it’s just going to stretch into 2 years. Then 5. Then 10. Then 20. And on and on. I catch myself looking at a picture and I think “Oh my God, she’s really gone. I mean GONE.” It’s a strange kind of missing someone. Like Lauren for example. I miss her all the time. She’s my very best friend in the whole world. But it’s not something that I constantly dwell on because 1) I know I will see her again; and 2) I can pick up the phone and talk to her any time that I want. But missing Emily…it’s the kind of missing that you can’t do a thing about. It’s so much harder knowing that she’s gone forever.
The beginning of April isn’t a good time in our family. Rebecca died on April 2nd. And even though it was before I was born, in some ways I’ve always felt the shadow her death left on my parents. And then Emily died on the 1st. Add to the fact that my mother’s birthday is the 2nd and mine is the 6th just adds insult to injury. So to say that we’re dreading the beginning of April is an understatement.
But yet, I find myself laughing at the irony of the situation. Fair warning, I know not everyone appreciates my sense of irony or gallows humor. So you may want to avoid this last paragraph.
I can’t help but laugh… every birthday I’ve ever had since Emily came along, she always found some way to make it about her. There was always some kind of drama, some kind of meltdown. She hated not being the center of attention. And now? Well, she successfully managed to overshadow my day. And even though they say it gets easier with time…. the beginning of April will never be the same.
I’ll show her. From now on, I’m going to have a big party every year for my birthday. She’s not the only one in this family who loves her birthday. And yet… I’d give anything in the world if she was still here to ruin my day.
Long before Emily died, I started reading care pages of kids with DIPG, which is an inoperable brain tumor that typically strikes young children. A friend of mine’s nephew died from this cancer, and through his website I started following the journeys of other kids. Many of these children have died since I started reading their web pages, and their families have continued writing in the blogs. One little girl especially stole my heart- Grace. She died in February, only 2 months before Emily. Unlike the other journals, suddenly this one was mirroring many of my own emotions. Grace’s mother’s words often expressed exactly what I was feeling. Even though the circumstances are completely different, the intensity of loss, grief, and sorrow are still the same. When she wrote on the 1 year mark for Grace, she wrote that she looked at her husband and said, “now what do we do?"
Oh, that’s exactly how I feel as the day gets closer. Now what? There is absolutely nothing different about April1st. It’s not like we can say “okay we made it here, now things are suddenly going to be better.” If anything, the 1st of April is the last of the firsts. We made it through the first birthday, the first Thanksgiving, the first Christmas, and we’ll get through the first year. But the depressing thought is that I have to do it all over again. And again. And again.. Only the number in front changes.
What I seem to be unable to wrap my mind around is the absolute finality of it all. That it’s not all going to end on April 1st. That it’s just going to stretch into 2 years. Then 5. Then 10. Then 20. And on and on. I catch myself looking at a picture and I think “Oh my God, she’s really gone. I mean GONE.” It’s a strange kind of missing someone. Like Lauren for example. I miss her all the time. She’s my very best friend in the whole world. But it’s not something that I constantly dwell on because 1) I know I will see her again; and 2) I can pick up the phone and talk to her any time that I want. But missing Emily…it’s the kind of missing that you can’t do a thing about. It’s so much harder knowing that she’s gone forever.
The beginning of April isn’t a good time in our family. Rebecca died on April 2nd. And even though it was before I was born, in some ways I’ve always felt the shadow her death left on my parents. And then Emily died on the 1st. Add to the fact that my mother’s birthday is the 2nd and mine is the 6th just adds insult to injury. So to say that we’re dreading the beginning of April is an understatement.
But yet, I find myself laughing at the irony of the situation. Fair warning, I know not everyone appreciates my sense of irony or gallows humor. So you may want to avoid this last paragraph.
I can’t help but laugh… every birthday I’ve ever had since Emily came along, she always found some way to make it about her. There was always some kind of drama, some kind of meltdown. She hated not being the center of attention. And now? Well, she successfully managed to overshadow my day. And even though they say it gets easier with time…. the beginning of April will never be the same.
I’ll show her. From now on, I’m going to have a big party every year for my birthday. She’s not the only one in this family who loves her birthday. And yet… I’d give anything in the world if she was still here to ruin my day.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Stay away, it hurts too much
Sometimes you wonder just how much sadness your heart can really take.
Another one of the Greencastle gang's friends died this Sunday. He was 20. My heart breaks for my friends--- that's the third friend that they've lost in a year.
I just don't understand. I know life is full of sadness and un-fairness.... but sometimes I wish there was a way to make sense of the senseless.
Diana wrote something in her Live Journal that struck me. I won't share her exact words because I don't have permission to do so, but she talked about keeping a distance from people as a defense mechanism- that if you keep them at arm's length, it won't hurt as much if you end up losing them too.
Whoa. That brought me up short and got me to thinking about my reactions and relationships over the last year. Have I been doing that? Keeping a wall between me and anyone who wants to get too close?
*smack*
(That was me running into the wall.)
That answers that.
I wonder if your heart can ever be broken so many times that eventually there's more scar tissue than heart. And each loss, each death, each hurt just builds up enough over time that there's too much to get beyond. The truth of the matter is that I started building that wall long before Emily died. Her death was the cement that firmed it up, but those bricks were being put in place a long time ago. I think that was the biggest problem in those last few months before she died, that I had just had enough of her anger and her bitterness and her depression that I started shutting her out so she couldn't hurt me anymore. What I realize now is that by doing that, I shut all of her out. Her hurtfulness couldn't touch me, but then again- her moments of sweetness and the "real" Emily beneath all that couldn't reach me either. And that's the guilt I've been dealing with, how nasty I was to her.
In talking to my Pastor the other night, I realized too that I've got some foundation blocks on my wall from when my friend Judy was killed about 10 years ago. Judy was the neatest woman. She had the most beautiful voice. When we lived in Alabama, I wanted to join the adult choir. I might have been in 7th grade or so. They started me off in the soprano section so I could sit with my mother, but I've got a much lower range than she does. So I ended up singing Alto with Judy. She was my choir buddy. And then she was my confirmation mentor. She never treated me like the obnoxious kid that I was. She listened alot. And I think alot of my love for music and for singing was partly because of her influence.
After we moved, her husband shot and killed her and then killed himself. I was devastated. It took almost six years before I could bring myself to sing in the choir again. I didn't realize until many years later just how much her death had affected me.
I look back and realize that it was about that time that I started really keeping people at arm's length. Oh, I had friends in high school. But no one that I could really bare my soul to.
In the last couple of years I've really become close with my cousin Lauren. But lately I've even been keeping away from her. I couldn't bear if anything happened to Lauren. So if I stay away, it won't hurt as much.
Diana really hit the nail on the head.
But there's that "on the other hand". Oh, what you miss out on by keeping people out! If I had known a year ago that Emily was going to die in less than a month, what would I have done? Would I have shut her out completely, or would I have spent every moment with her I could, sharing every secret, even though knowing how devastating it would be when she was gone?
I think it would be a hell of alot easier to have dealt with than all this lingering guilt.
I guess now I have a choice. Do I leave it there and continue to hide behind it, or start figuring out how to take it down? Do I want to take it down? It took a long time to put it up, and those bricks are awful heavy.
I think I know my answer. I just don't know if I like it.
Another one of the Greencastle gang's friends died this Sunday. He was 20. My heart breaks for my friends--- that's the third friend that they've lost in a year.
I just don't understand. I know life is full of sadness and un-fairness.... but sometimes I wish there was a way to make sense of the senseless.
Diana wrote something in her Live Journal that struck me. I won't share her exact words because I don't have permission to do so, but she talked about keeping a distance from people as a defense mechanism- that if you keep them at arm's length, it won't hurt as much if you end up losing them too.
Whoa. That brought me up short and got me to thinking about my reactions and relationships over the last year. Have I been doing that? Keeping a wall between me and anyone who wants to get too close?
*smack*
(That was me running into the wall.)
That answers that.
I wonder if your heart can ever be broken so many times that eventually there's more scar tissue than heart. And each loss, each death, each hurt just builds up enough over time that there's too much to get beyond. The truth of the matter is that I started building that wall long before Emily died. Her death was the cement that firmed it up, but those bricks were being put in place a long time ago. I think that was the biggest problem in those last few months before she died, that I had just had enough of her anger and her bitterness and her depression that I started shutting her out so she couldn't hurt me anymore. What I realize now is that by doing that, I shut all of her out. Her hurtfulness couldn't touch me, but then again- her moments of sweetness and the "real" Emily beneath all that couldn't reach me either. And that's the guilt I've been dealing with, how nasty I was to her.
In talking to my Pastor the other night, I realized too that I've got some foundation blocks on my wall from when my friend Judy was killed about 10 years ago. Judy was the neatest woman. She had the most beautiful voice. When we lived in Alabama, I wanted to join the adult choir. I might have been in 7th grade or so. They started me off in the soprano section so I could sit with my mother, but I've got a much lower range than she does. So I ended up singing Alto with Judy. She was my choir buddy. And then she was my confirmation mentor. She never treated me like the obnoxious kid that I was. She listened alot. And I think alot of my love for music and for singing was partly because of her influence.
After we moved, her husband shot and killed her and then killed himself. I was devastated. It took almost six years before I could bring myself to sing in the choir again. I didn't realize until many years later just how much her death had affected me.
I look back and realize that it was about that time that I started really keeping people at arm's length. Oh, I had friends in high school. But no one that I could really bare my soul to.
In the last couple of years I've really become close with my cousin Lauren. But lately I've even been keeping away from her. I couldn't bear if anything happened to Lauren. So if I stay away, it won't hurt as much.
Diana really hit the nail on the head.
But there's that "on the other hand". Oh, what you miss out on by keeping people out! If I had known a year ago that Emily was going to die in less than a month, what would I have done? Would I have shut her out completely, or would I have spent every moment with her I could, sharing every secret, even though knowing how devastating it would be when she was gone?
I think it would be a hell of alot easier to have dealt with than all this lingering guilt.
I guess now I have a choice. Do I leave it there and continue to hide behind it, or start figuring out how to take it down? Do I want to take it down? It took a long time to put it up, and those bricks are awful heavy.
I think I know my answer. I just don't know if I like it.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Thoughts
I love the Harry Potter books. I think that I’ve read them all at least 100 times. I love books period, but there’s something about those stories. I get lost in the magic of it all. Now, that being said, I’m not one of those crazies that dresses up, or goes to parties, or secretly pretends to be a wizard, or tries to write my own spells. I know there is no magic train that takes you to a magic castle, and I know that there’s no such thing as wizards. But I love the escape that stories about magic provide! The only stories better than the Harry Potter books are the Chronicles of Narnia.
In one of the HP books, they describe a magical basin called a Penseive. You can pull the thoughts and memories out of your head and place them in the Penseive, especially to relieve the mind when it becomes too flooded with information. Anyone can examine the memories, kind of like a virtual diary.
Lately I have been wishing that there was such a thing. I sure could use one. These days I have way too many thoughts running through my mind. It’s getting crowded in there.
I’ve been having a lot of trouble sorting out my thoughts. One day I’m mad at the world, and don’t want to speak to anyone. Then the next day all I want is for someone to listen.
I sent a text message to Lauren one night, in a fit of loneliness, hoping that she’d call because I needed to talk to someone. When she did in fact call about 15 minutes later, I didn’t answer because I didn’t know what to say. I want someone to fix it, but how can I expect them to when what I want/need changes every 15 minutes?
One day I want reminders of Emily everywhere, and then the next I want to wipe away all traces of her. Her room is driving me nuts. I can’t stand that everything in there still looks like she’s coming back to it.
And there are times that I do want to talk, but I just don’t know what to say. And honestly, it isn’t even all “Emily stuff”- there’s a whole lot of “other” stuff that’s been buried deep in there for years. I thought I had it all pretty much under control, but Emily’s death sent everything into a tailspin. I think that’s where the Penseive would come in handy. If I could sort through all of the stuff, maybe I could begin to put the pieces back together. Right now it all just runs together.
I’m very reluctant to ask for help. I’m realizing that I have some serious control issues. I think I want help, but it’s got to be on my terms.
About 10 years or so ago, at one of Emily’s lowest points in her depression struggle, we got into a knock-down, ugly fight. I don’t even remember what started it- something dumb I am sure, but whatever it was made me snap. Emily had the quick temper- she lost it at the drop of a hat, blew up, got mad, and got over it. Me though—I stew about things. I let it fester. It takes a lot to get me to lose it, but when I do, it’s nasty. This particular fight, I’d had it with her. I screamed and threw things and acted like a lunatic. I got so angry, that I don’t even remember what happened. But I freaked my parents out enough that they insisted on taking me to a therapist. With much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I gave in and said I would go- basically just to get them off my back. Talk about a moody, sulk teenager.
This woman was horrible. Completely horrible. It was the same counselor that Emily was talking to at the time, and so she’d already heard all about how awful I was from Emily. She told me that I was making Em’s life harder, and that I needed to understand that I wasn’t the one with the illness, and that I needed to be more understanding of Emily’s “disease.” Yet again, everything was about Emily.
I felt invisible.
I went once or twice, and then refused to go again. She may have had some valid points, but all the angry 15 year old heard was that it was all my fault Emily was still depressed. And that haunted me for years.
Emily actually started seeing someone different shortly after that. Turns out she wasn’t helping Emily much either. But even though I know this particular counselor was nuts, my distrust of “head shrinks” deepened after that.
The intelligent, adult part of me realizes that that one bad experience does not mean all counselors are like that. And that it probably would really help to talk to someone. But the scared, angry, confused 15 year old part of me is still afraid that it really is all my fault.
Fear has a way of controlling you. Which isn’t a good thing when you have control issues.
So I’m thinking on the counselor thing. I’m not there yet, but I’m thinking it’s time I get over myself and stand up to some of this fear.
I may not have Harry Potter’s magic Penseive, but maybe someone else can help me sort through the mess in my head.
In one of the HP books, they describe a magical basin called a Penseive. You can pull the thoughts and memories out of your head and place them in the Penseive, especially to relieve the mind when it becomes too flooded with information. Anyone can examine the memories, kind of like a virtual diary.
Lately I have been wishing that there was such a thing. I sure could use one. These days I have way too many thoughts running through my mind. It’s getting crowded in there.
I’ve been having a lot of trouble sorting out my thoughts. One day I’m mad at the world, and don’t want to speak to anyone. Then the next day all I want is for someone to listen.
I sent a text message to Lauren one night, in a fit of loneliness, hoping that she’d call because I needed to talk to someone. When she did in fact call about 15 minutes later, I didn’t answer because I didn’t know what to say. I want someone to fix it, but how can I expect them to when what I want/need changes every 15 minutes?
One day I want reminders of Emily everywhere, and then the next I want to wipe away all traces of her. Her room is driving me nuts. I can’t stand that everything in there still looks like she’s coming back to it.
And there are times that I do want to talk, but I just don’t know what to say. And honestly, it isn’t even all “Emily stuff”- there’s a whole lot of “other” stuff that’s been buried deep in there for years. I thought I had it all pretty much under control, but Emily’s death sent everything into a tailspin. I think that’s where the Penseive would come in handy. If I could sort through all of the stuff, maybe I could begin to put the pieces back together. Right now it all just runs together.
I’m very reluctant to ask for help. I’m realizing that I have some serious control issues. I think I want help, but it’s got to be on my terms.
About 10 years or so ago, at one of Emily’s lowest points in her depression struggle, we got into a knock-down, ugly fight. I don’t even remember what started it- something dumb I am sure, but whatever it was made me snap. Emily had the quick temper- she lost it at the drop of a hat, blew up, got mad, and got over it. Me though—I stew about things. I let it fester. It takes a lot to get me to lose it, but when I do, it’s nasty. This particular fight, I’d had it with her. I screamed and threw things and acted like a lunatic. I got so angry, that I don’t even remember what happened. But I freaked my parents out enough that they insisted on taking me to a therapist. With much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I gave in and said I would go- basically just to get them off my back. Talk about a moody, sulk teenager.
This woman was horrible. Completely horrible. It was the same counselor that Emily was talking to at the time, and so she’d already heard all about how awful I was from Emily. She told me that I was making Em’s life harder, and that I needed to understand that I wasn’t the one with the illness, and that I needed to be more understanding of Emily’s “disease.” Yet again, everything was about Emily.
I felt invisible.
I went once or twice, and then refused to go again. She may have had some valid points, but all the angry 15 year old heard was that it was all my fault Emily was still depressed. And that haunted me for years.
Emily actually started seeing someone different shortly after that. Turns out she wasn’t helping Emily much either. But even though I know this particular counselor was nuts, my distrust of “head shrinks” deepened after that.
The intelligent, adult part of me realizes that that one bad experience does not mean all counselors are like that. And that it probably would really help to talk to someone. But the scared, angry, confused 15 year old part of me is still afraid that it really is all my fault.
Fear has a way of controlling you. Which isn’t a good thing when you have control issues.
So I’m thinking on the counselor thing. I’m not there yet, but I’m thinking it’s time I get over myself and stand up to some of this fear.
I may not have Harry Potter’s magic Penseive, but maybe someone else can help me sort through the mess in my head.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Hesitating and hurting.
Laurie wants me to come down for Spring break again this year. We’ll most likely end up going back to the beach, but things are a little up in the air, depending on her job situation. (She’s going to be laid off as of the end of March, and she’s still searching for a new job.)
On the one hand, I really, really want to go. I haven’t seen her and Rachel since July and I miss them both terribly. And I really need a break. I also love the beach, particularly Sunset Beach. It’s quiet and somewhat secluded. Mostly just houses- no hotels or condos. And this time of year is really nice- granted it’s too cold to get into the water, and too windy to lay out on the sand. But it’s perfect weather for walking along the beach, which is my favorite part of all. There’s something calming about the ocean. There’s something healing and restoring in the wind. I feel closer to God on the beach than I do anywhere else.
So. I love Laurie and Rachel. I love spending time with them. I love the beach. I need to get away. So why the hesitation?
Because I went on this exact same trip almost a year ago. And when I came back, my world fell to pieces.
That trip last year was the last time I was truly happy and whole. That week was the last time that my thoughts weren’t consumed by grief and sorrow. That week I still had a little sister. The last time I heard Emily’s voice was on the phone from the beach house.
I feel like I’ve come full circle. The year of firsts is quickly coming to and end. I can’t even begin to process how just a year ago we were planning this very same trip. And here we are again, only this time I’m not sure if the waves and wind is even remotely enough to start to heal and restore this hurting heart. I’m afraid to go and discover that God is just as distant on the beach as He’s seemed to be these last few months. I’m afraid that going and facing those ghosts of last year will be too hard and that it’ll never be the same again.
I think about my silly woes that I had last year. Frustration at work, frustration at home, frustration at church, and a lot of unresolved anger at my sister. How I’d give practically everything and anything to have those woes instead of this heartbreak.
But… in my heart of hearts, I know I’ll go. I think I need to go. And I can’t let my nightmares and hurts haunt me forever. I can’t hide from every memory that could possibly hurt. I think sometimes it has to hurt a little before it can fully heal.
On the one hand, I really, really want to go. I haven’t seen her and Rachel since July and I miss them both terribly. And I really need a break. I also love the beach, particularly Sunset Beach. It’s quiet and somewhat secluded. Mostly just houses- no hotels or condos. And this time of year is really nice- granted it’s too cold to get into the water, and too windy to lay out on the sand. But it’s perfect weather for walking along the beach, which is my favorite part of all. There’s something calming about the ocean. There’s something healing and restoring in the wind. I feel closer to God on the beach than I do anywhere else.
So. I love Laurie and Rachel. I love spending time with them. I love the beach. I need to get away. So why the hesitation?
Because I went on this exact same trip almost a year ago. And when I came back, my world fell to pieces.
That trip last year was the last time I was truly happy and whole. That week was the last time that my thoughts weren’t consumed by grief and sorrow. That week I still had a little sister. The last time I heard Emily’s voice was on the phone from the beach house.
I feel like I’ve come full circle. The year of firsts is quickly coming to and end. I can’t even begin to process how just a year ago we were planning this very same trip. And here we are again, only this time I’m not sure if the waves and wind is even remotely enough to start to heal and restore this hurting heart. I’m afraid to go and discover that God is just as distant on the beach as He’s seemed to be these last few months. I’m afraid that going and facing those ghosts of last year will be too hard and that it’ll never be the same again.
I think about my silly woes that I had last year. Frustration at work, frustration at home, frustration at church, and a lot of unresolved anger at my sister. How I’d give practically everything and anything to have those woes instead of this heartbreak.
But… in my heart of hearts, I know I’ll go. I think I need to go. And I can’t let my nightmares and hurts haunt me forever. I can’t hide from every memory that could possibly hurt. I think sometimes it has to hurt a little before it can fully heal.
Monday, July 14, 2008
an interesting conversation
Had an interesting conversation with my father yesterday. I’ve been agonizing over how/when/where to bring up the subject of possibly moving to South Carolina with them. I’ve been feeling guilty for even thinking about it- I just haven’t been sure if that’s fair to do that to them right now since it’s only been a few months since Emily died. But yet, I can’t stand the thought of being here a moment longer than I have to. And dreaming about moving down there and moving in with Lauren and Rachel for awhile makes it easier to get through the days. I called Lauren Sat. night after Emily’s party, and brought up how I wasn’t sure best to approach the subject. Her advice was that when the right opportunity arose- He would let me know. She’s usually right about these things- this time was no exception. Wasn’t expecting it so soon- but hey, I’ll take it. Satis est, right? It is enough.
Anyway, we were at Cracker Barrel yesterday after church. Mom was waiting with Grandma outside, and Dad and I were talking. He said something about our neighbor next door said to tell me to get my resume to him. Apparently he has a lot of contacts with a lot of businesses and stuff through his job. I said something to dad about that there just wasn’t anything open around here. (And in all honesty, I have looked for other jobs around here too.) Dad asked me how far I was willing to go. I kind of shrugged my shoulders, and didn’t really answer. Then he looked at me and point-blank asked, “Melissa, where exactly do you want to be?” Whoa. I asked him “honestly?” he nodded his head, and I said, “South Carolina.” And he said if that’s where I wanted to be, then that’s what I needed to do. Whoa. This coming from the same man who two years ago did everything he could to talk me out of it? I told him my concerns about leaving him and mom right now, and he said that although that wouldn’t be his first choice, I had to do what was right for me. Wow. Talk about a weight falling off of your shoulders! Now I feel like I can really look without feeling guilty or dishonest. I don’t know if he said anything yet to mom. I think she may be the one with more of a problem with it.
But I have also got to get out of here. I’ve been toying with the idea of moving down there for 4 years. It’s time to get off my duff and try and make it happen. Even Pastor Mike told me a few months ago when I went to talk to him that when a person usually talks about something for so long, it usually is a sign it’s something that they really want to do. And if God didn’t want me to try- I would think He would have put that desire to rest the last time, right? But each time I go there, it’s stronger. And now it’s almost all I think about. So I’m going to stop making excuses. I’m going to go home, and start sending out my resume like crazy. Tonight. No more, got to wait to talk to mom and dad, no more waiting until I get back from Poland….. starting tonight. And if it is God’s will, He’s going to have to make it happen. Oh, I hope it is. It’s the one thought that makes me happy these days.
Anyway, we were at Cracker Barrel yesterday after church. Mom was waiting with Grandma outside, and Dad and I were talking. He said something about our neighbor next door said to tell me to get my resume to him. Apparently he has a lot of contacts with a lot of businesses and stuff through his job. I said something to dad about that there just wasn’t anything open around here. (And in all honesty, I have looked for other jobs around here too.) Dad asked me how far I was willing to go. I kind of shrugged my shoulders, and didn’t really answer. Then he looked at me and point-blank asked, “Melissa, where exactly do you want to be?” Whoa. I asked him “honestly?” he nodded his head, and I said, “South Carolina.” And he said if that’s where I wanted to be, then that’s what I needed to do. Whoa. This coming from the same man who two years ago did everything he could to talk me out of it? I told him my concerns about leaving him and mom right now, and he said that although that wouldn’t be his first choice, I had to do what was right for me. Wow. Talk about a weight falling off of your shoulders! Now I feel like I can really look without feeling guilty or dishonest. I don’t know if he said anything yet to mom. I think she may be the one with more of a problem with it.
But I have also got to get out of here. I’ve been toying with the idea of moving down there for 4 years. It’s time to get off my duff and try and make it happen. Even Pastor Mike told me a few months ago when I went to talk to him that when a person usually talks about something for so long, it usually is a sign it’s something that they really want to do. And if God didn’t want me to try- I would think He would have put that desire to rest the last time, right? But each time I go there, it’s stronger. And now it’s almost all I think about. So I’m going to stop making excuses. I’m going to go home, and start sending out my resume like crazy. Tonight. No more, got to wait to talk to mom and dad, no more waiting until I get back from Poland….. starting tonight. And if it is God’s will, He’s going to have to make it happen. Oh, I hope it is. It’s the one thought that makes me happy these days.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Got to get out of here
I hate my job. I spend most of my days doing a whole lot of nothing- just pretending to look busy. And it’s not that I don’t have stuff to do… it’s just that it doesn’t interest me in the least. I don’t care, because it isn’t important. And it makes the days seem so incredibly long. But I can’t seem to help it. I tell myself everyday that I’m going to do better, but then I get here… and I simply don’t care again. I’ve got to get out of here.
I’ve been stressing the last week about how I’m going to ask my parents about moving to Columbia. And then it hit me the other day… I am 25 years old. I don’t have to ask for their permission. Heck, I could leave tomorrow if I really wanted to. (I’d never do that to them.) I mean, am I afraid they are going to say no? They can’t stop me. I guess the bottom line is I want their approval. But I don’t need their permission. I really feel like this time moving in with Lauren could be a reality. I think it’s doable. Since mom and dad loaned me part of Emily’s insurance money to pay off my credit cards, I don’t have all that debt hanging over my head. I owe them back of course, but it’s only one payment and no interest. So I can totally still do that, and pay Lauren rent. I’ve been paying mom and dad, so it’s really not going to “cost” me more. I just need a job. But even so—if I really, really work at saving up maybe three months salary, I could go ahead and move and find a job when I get there. I think it may be kinda hard to find one from here. But I don’t doubt that I could get a job pretty easily.
Moving is the only thing that makes my days seem bearable. I’m sitting here absolutely dreading the thought of coming back here tomorrow. And next week. And the week after. It’s like a tunnel that never, ever ends. I have got to get out of here. I want to go to the one place I feel happy and safe. I want to go to the one place I feel like I am home. I want to go to South Carolina. I can’t take another day here.
I’ve been stressing the last week about how I’m going to ask my parents about moving to Columbia. And then it hit me the other day… I am 25 years old. I don’t have to ask for their permission. Heck, I could leave tomorrow if I really wanted to. (I’d never do that to them.) I mean, am I afraid they are going to say no? They can’t stop me. I guess the bottom line is I want their approval. But I don’t need their permission. I really feel like this time moving in with Lauren could be a reality. I think it’s doable. Since mom and dad loaned me part of Emily’s insurance money to pay off my credit cards, I don’t have all that debt hanging over my head. I owe them back of course, but it’s only one payment and no interest. So I can totally still do that, and pay Lauren rent. I’ve been paying mom and dad, so it’s really not going to “cost” me more. I just need a job. But even so—if I really, really work at saving up maybe three months salary, I could go ahead and move and find a job when I get there. I think it may be kinda hard to find one from here. But I don’t doubt that I could get a job pretty easily.
Moving is the only thing that makes my days seem bearable. I’m sitting here absolutely dreading the thought of coming back here tomorrow. And next week. And the week after. It’s like a tunnel that never, ever ends. I have got to get out of here. I want to go to the one place I feel happy and safe. I want to go to the one place I feel like I am home. I want to go to South Carolina. I can’t take another day here.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Missing South Carolina
Somehow it was harder leaving Laurie’s this time. It’s funny because usually when I’m there I’m always thinking “I only have four more days until I have to leave”, or “only two days left”, or “I can’t believe I have to leave tomorrow.” But not so much this time. It’s like… I just got so used to being there, I wasn’t even dwelling on having to leave. Until Sunday afternoon, and then it was all I could think about. I wished I could have just stayed and not come back. It was about three o’clock before I finally left. And as Lauren and I stood in her kitchen and she hugged me, I started crying. Even she was getting weepy, and I’ve only ever seen her cry once before. Maybe it was just because it seems like so very long before I’ll be able to get back down there again- not until after the beginning of the year. Maybe it was because we’re both struggling with what we want to do with our lives, and it was comforting to commiserate together. Maybe because the last time I left her house, two days later my world fell apart. Whatever it was, it was just way too hard. Something about SC really calls to me. I feel like I’m home when I’m there. Every time I’m there it’s like that. We’ve been talking for years about me moving down there. Lauren’s already offered to let me stay with her. At first I was afraid I only wanted to because of them. And I know I can’t live with her forever. But I can still see myself making a life in Columbia. I just don’t know if I can do that to Mom and Dad right now. Is that selfish? I’m going to have to move out someday, is there ever a right time? Neither of them want to stay here in Greencastle forever either- I think they dislike it here as much as I do. And I can’t very well be in my 30’s and still living at home.
I need a change. I’ve needed a change for years, I was just too scared to leave my comfort zone. Now I’m too scared to stay there.
I need a change. I’ve needed a change for years, I was just too scared to leave my comfort zone. Now I’m too scared to stay there.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Breathing again
Yesterday was the first time I didn't wake up dreading facing the day. In fact, I didn't even realize yesterday was the first of the month until later in the day. I'm not sure if it bothers me more that I forgot... or that I'm relieved that I forgot.
I understand now why people move away after they've lost someone. I used to think maybe it was because they were trying to runaway and forget. (I used to think a lot of stupid things before this.) But that's not the case at all. I haven't forgotten Emily while I've been here in South Carolina. I still think about her everyday, and miss her everyday. I've already cried on poor Lauren's shoulder at least twice, and broke down on Teri when we went over to Uncle John's. But it's like... the intensity of the pain is somewhat muted here. Like someone just turned down the volume on the pain meter. There aren't reminders of her everywhere I look. There aren't reminders of her everywhere I go. When I meet and talk to people down here, Emily isn't the unspoken shadow hovering over my shoulder. I have not once gotten the pity look, and when someone asks "how are ya?", it's a whole 'nother meaning. I do miss my parents... but I do not want to go home. Maybe eventually it gets easier there too, I don't know. But what I do know is that right now, in this moment, I feel like I can breathe again.
I understand now why people move away after they've lost someone. I used to think maybe it was because they were trying to runaway and forget. (I used to think a lot of stupid things before this.) But that's not the case at all. I haven't forgotten Emily while I've been here in South Carolina. I still think about her everyday, and miss her everyday. I've already cried on poor Lauren's shoulder at least twice, and broke down on Teri when we went over to Uncle John's. But it's like... the intensity of the pain is somewhat muted here. Like someone just turned down the volume on the pain meter. There aren't reminders of her everywhere I look. There aren't reminders of her everywhere I go. When I meet and talk to people down here, Emily isn't the unspoken shadow hovering over my shoulder. I have not once gotten the pity look, and when someone asks "how are ya?", it's a whole 'nother meaning. I do miss my parents... but I do not want to go home. Maybe eventually it gets easier there too, I don't know. But what I do know is that right now, in this moment, I feel like I can breathe again.
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