Remember this, Kelly.

 I destroyed myself over the last two days. 7 hours of sleep for two nights to share and a staple food of espresso. And one meal. carrots, sushi. But it didn’t matter what I ate since I couldn’t keep it in anyway. I got so stressed at 3 in the morning I puked. This all over one essay… or rather, this all over one attempt at some hint of perfection (of course. You fail.) Then a crash today… now… recently. All that hoopla (FUCKING HOOPLA) of wanting to die and looking for a knife or your own courage (or cowardice) to devise a solution to be gone and heaving on the stairs–sobs or tears or something–attempts at being alone but feeling surrounded but feeling alone. The thing is, between the heaves of the stomach solution and the sobs, many things felt right, sometimes more right than usual, better, even than usual, and at one point you THREW YOURSELF INTO THE AIR metaphorically IN EXPRESSION OF. So I guess that’s why you crashed. It’s okay now because you’re getting better at this. But dammit, I thought we learned. This is why we left. You gathered courage and strength and skill, so we came back.

Shut those beasts in the closet. Shower, rest.

Let’s not do this again

Join Me in this Dance of Life

When I was younger, for a reason I can no longer fathom, I would look in the mirror and "act." My favorite, erm, skit was a reaction to the death of a loved one--slow shock, denial, some tears. To get to this state I would imagine the news of my mother's death. I realize this is all a bit unorthodox, but it was what I did, and in any case, the mere idea of my mother's death created the most unfathomable emotions

So, in a way, I had prepared for the phone call I received from my mother. 

I was in the hallway of my dorm and I slid to the ground. My eyes didn't well, yet, I was too stunned. My mind had never been so blank, the world, never so far away.

But what I had practiced, all the emotions I had imagined I would feel did not even skim the surface. 

I could, in no way, have prepared myself for the news that my mother's cancer had now been found in her liver, signaling the incurable diagnosis of stage IV metastatic cancer. 

My mind was foggy and I couldn't let myself think or feel much of anything. I wasn't willing to let it be real yet, and even as I told my dear friends the news, it still wasn't real to me. 

And then I went into the woods and once everyone fell asleep, it was just me and the stars and the wind. I had to face it all. Closing my eyes did not bring sleep, just images of my new world. My 20th birthday, spent mourning. My graduation, spent mourning. My wedding, spent mourning. My travels, spent mourning. My accomplishment, my failures, spent mourning. My whole life somehow became a black hole. But how could it not? The one who brought me life is gone, does that not mean my life ends too? 

Mercifully, sleep took me after the second hour of replay: a mishmash of tears, faded words of doctors saying "I really think this will be different, I believe you will beat this," goodbyes, flowers. 

But a funny thing happens when you sleep. Your mind settles down. 

When I awoke, I could see again. The first thing I saw was that my mom was still alive. My mourning was premature and I had given up when hope was at its fullest. I don't mean hope that my mom will survive, because she won't. Neither will I. Nor will any of you. So fuck it. What it is this diagnosis? Just a reminder of the inevitable, only this time the reminder brings action. There is nothing I could wish for more than for my mom to focus on enjoying life, and this, well, this brings the whole enjoying life goal to the forefront. It is now top priority. And as my sister says (a bit more eloquently than I ever could), http://tigerbug.blogspot.com/2013/01/mommy.html , I will do everything in my power to help her feel, in her core, the beauty of the world; whether that be a few weeks or a number of years.

I do this because I love her.

I live and love and thrive because of her. I have been taught, through her teaching, that life should be tickled, played with, chased, and adored. Because of her I will not settle for less than what makes me smile. 

Because of her I love myself. 

Tomorrow I will laugh with her. Tomorrow I will seek her advice. Tomorrow I may cry with her. No matter how many more tomorrows come, I will be thankful for each one. 

Welcome to this new dance of life. One in which death is invited in by all, as each one of us will have a solo with the unknown. We will twirl, and it will twirl with us, we'll learn not to fear it, and when we finally get too tired, it will catch us. All those we love will keep dancing, with the added steps we taught them, and in that way we will live on. 

1 semester down

Well, almost.

In fact, I'm currently procrastinating studying for my finals, so this will probably end up being decently short, however, since i've already begun to feel withdrawal from Hendrix, I figured I'd write about it.

I'll start by saying I really hate certain parts of Hendrix.

I hate its location most. Conway is a more run-down, oppressive version of Bowling Green, but don't worry, it's only 30 minutes away from one of the most dangerous cities in the nation....

I don't get off-campus much because of that. Which then, in turn, makes me feel claustrophobic in this tiny campus with just enough faces for me to recognize all of them, but actually know very few of them. When I feel the claustrophobia starting up, I often desire to retreat to some inherently nature-y area to sit or walk, run, meditate, etc... examples of places such as this would be the woods, a beach, a field, any place without man-made light. Or I sometimes desire the solidarity of a city, with so many people that your existence barely even registers, but I can find neither here.

With so few people, I often feel as though I should know a vast majority of them, and yet, I still tend to be in the background of campus life. I will walk behind someone who knows literally everyone they pass, and although I recognize all of them, know roughly when they eat and where they live, I can't say I know who they are–not even as friendly acquaintances, and that often gets to me. But even so, there are still a ton of people here who I do not seem to gel with, for a so-called free-spirited liberal arts college, it's surprisingly cliquey and close-minded. I can't tell you how many times I've brought up some of my wacky ideas only to be told "please don't do that" ex. growing a soul patch or dying my armpit hair a bright fun color, or even the super-tame, not shaving my legs.

Also, the majority of people here party stupid. I like to party! I do! But not the way these kids do it.

Lastly, I still don't know if I fully fit here–some days it feels completely wrong, others it feels pretty great. It's a hard balance when so many people are running around you screaming: it's my home! it's my home!

All of this, however, does not override the immeasurable joys I have felt here.

I've done more expanding of my soul here than I have anywhere else, and it has only been one semester. I'm getting more and more in-tune with my spiritual self, which, though often terrifying, is enlightening and wonderful at the same time. I'm learning more about what my deeply set values are and what I may truly enjoy doing later in life. After a year of real-worldness, I've rediscovered my absolutely illogical up and crazy child-like silliness (which some may call insanity). It is a part of myself  I was afraid I had lost when I was out there on the rd, striving to live on my own, perhaps a little too hard.

My professors, most that I have encountered anyway, are absolutely incredible. I had a wonky time this semester balancing my college world and my family world as I had a lot of responsibilities back at the home-front, and they made everything as smooth as possible. My journeys professor, who I was blessed to be assigned to, sent me a book "The Anatomy of Hope" while I was at home caring for my mother after her surgery. They have been nothing but kind and helpful and open to me as a person and not just a student, which is something that I cherish above all else. It actually pains me to have to say goodbye to them this semester, not knowing if I'll have any classes with them in the future. All I can do if send them a thank you card and hope I can convey how much they meant to me (which may not come across since I'm so quiet in class). My journeys and intro to cultural anthropology classes are the two that blew me away.

Finally finally (I knew it would be a lie when I wrote that thing about this being short), the friends I have made here are indescribably incredible. They may be few, countable on one hand even, but I would say it is another testament to "the fates" and serendipity that we ended up together. We have so much fun together, even on the lamest of days; we help each other out in times of need, at least as much as we can; we spend pretty much every day together and still walk into each others' rooms in the mornings just because we enjoy the feeling of being around one another. I share my life with these people, and in turn, they have shown me parts of myself that I never knew. The other day I was having a strange as day and Caiti and I took a walk for hours, it started pouring and we skipped and jumped and climbed on giant mud piles, talking about such a range of topics that in the same conversation I felt a pang of gut-wrenching sadness and a stitch in my side from laughing so hard. It was an experience I can't say I've had with anyone else, and as she leaves for Morocco right after the holiday festivities, I have two more days to hang out with her before she runs off for 9 months. It breaks my heart.
Even leaving my dearest dorm-mates for one month breaks my shattered little heart! After the dreadful ending my last relationship had, I feared a loneliness and lack of love, however, these guys have increased the love in my life tenfold. I feel as though I've known them my whole life, and I hope they know that now that they are in my life and I have fallen in love with them so deeply, they will always be a part of me. One month. Just gotta push through it. I keep threatening to stick them all in my car and bring them home with me. Paradise...actually gather them and my BG friends, and we all arrive in NZ–that would be paradise!

Because this is ridiculously long, I will cap it now.

And leave you with one last tidbit:

All of these things–the learning, professors, and friends–make this place very worthwhile. And it certainly doesn't hurt that Macklemore and Ryan Lewis are coming to perform for us next spring! !

Getting to Know the Rest of Me

Since graduating high school I've had to fight everyday for the desire to live. Now, this sounds extremely morbid, depressing, and some would probably even opt to stick me in an institution. But it is not as it sounds.

All that means, really, is that I keep coming up with this desire to live out each day and continue exploring my future. Why there was such a shift since high school, however, is simple. While in high school, and all the time before, my life was pretty much laid out for me, and any life beyond that was the future...the future that would seemingly never come, and therefore it did not even exist in my reality.

Many ask me why I took a gap year, that is partially why. Thinking about college was thinking about the part of my life that didn't even exist, therefore, it was impossible to do. That is also why most of my gap year was made up of "oh, I guess I ended up here" moments that taught me to trust in myself, and in "the fates" whatever they may be.

But even with that trust, I feel as though I am in a weird abyss. I do not know where I am or where I am going, all I know is that I am not "there" (high school and prior) anymore, and I will not go back "there" ever again. The few things I have to cling to for reassurance to a linear path is my family (though that's kind of exploded and shattered and changed in ways that I can barely comprehend), my friends (though I've learned that although friendships may last forever, they will not always be able to hold you up and keep you going as they used to), and college (which I struggle with far too often. I am content there, not happy. And that alone makes me sad). So, what I'm left with is myself. Oh goodie! Just me, myself, and I in this no-future abyss. It's terrifying. I guess I kind of understand more fully now why people desire to marry-then it's not just you, you've got a partner in crime, and if you've got a good one, that partner will help teach you how to love yoself!

But since I do not have such a partner, I must teach myself how to love myself and that process must start by getting to know me. It is now a necessity. A survival strategy, if you will.

That is why I am kept up at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering on all the possibilities that life has to offer, and once my thoughts breach the confines of American cultural concepts, I'm overwhelmed and eventually shut it all off. Sometimes it is easier to keep myself in the dark. Sometimes once I begin to wonder, I realize I will end up a lonely prostitute living on the streets... which is not an altogether bad scenario, as it would certainly be interesting, but as you can imagine, is not quite where I would like my life to go. So with that one, I often lay awake in fear until my eyes relent, and I sleep.

But that is also why I wake up every day and [usually] am overjoyed to see that my life is continuing. I get to explore my undiscovered day like it is unchartered territory. And everyday I get to turn the unknown future into a conquered memory of the past.

It is always scary. It is always rewarding.


This view of time makes heaps of sense to me:

"You are in the middle of a river (Time) and facing downstream. The future approaches you from behind . . . only to recede into the past, which actually lies in front of you, moving ever farther away. If you could look far enough downstream you would see the beginning of the stream and, in essence, everything."

The Ultimate Irony

Perhaps you have to be in less-than-ideal situations in order to appreciate what you love most. It always seems to be while I am in school that the beauty of nature smothers my heart. Only when I do not have the time to sit and think of nothing but the breeze caressing my skin do my eyes brim with tears when I feel its weightless touch; and only when I have hours of work to complete do I steal quick visits to a shaded area just to hear the rustling of the birds in the branches up above.

I am sure that if time were in abundance, these things would become commonplace and the smell of the sun would no longer linger at the tip of my nose. Why should this be? The ultimate irony–that the forbidden is always the sweeter. Perhaps this is where the dissatisfaction with life is born. A longing to love what is, but an eternal desire to have everything but. 

You can see it too, I'm sure, in many things in your life–materials, knowledge, love, power, emotion, money, strength, time, family....

So I spose that is now my challenge, to follow the timeless advice to "appreciate what you have." 

I would venture to say, this is my hardest challenge yet. 

But don't get me wrong, I will never stop seeking the experience of a beautiful day. 

Life Won't Slow

You wouldn't believe me if I told you the number of times I've sat down to write an entry in here about Hendrix, but have then been distracted by other things (and sometimes, the "other thing" is homework, so that's good at least.)

But because I, as usual, have very little time to devote to this quick little post mostly just mentioning that yes, I do plan to keep up with the blog, I'm going to sum up my first week with the titles of my almost blog posts.

Home again

The fake reality of OR week

My orientation is better than your orientation

Communication is... hard

Leave of Absence

Friends Friends Friends

I'm Lame...

Withdrawn from Hendrix!?

Too Much Awesome to Comprehend!

Ultimate Frisbee, Hendrix Ambassador, ECC, Eco House, No Fear Interactions

Stress Persists

Back to Lame...

Rethink. College=Awesome?

Disoriented. Still Lame...

So, as you can probably glean from the constant switch from sweet as to much-less-than amazing, it has been quite a ride. 

Currently about to enter my second week of classes and feel disoriented, lame, lonely. Perhaps tomorrow I will be on top of the world.

Vroom Vroom!

Last weekend nearly beat me to the ground, it was so packed! But I came out of it with a totally new and adventurous skill!

Friday night I went in for the first of three motorcycle classes. I walked into the classroom and everyone became silent, assessing why this young girl had just walked into the room. More confusion seemed to appear on their faces when the teacher asked who hadn't ever ridden a motorcycle, and I was one of two to raise their hand. After that first class I walked out feeling very self-concious. Excited about what I was about to learn, but out-of-place, none-the-less. Would I slow everyone else down? Would I make a fool of myself? Would I fall? Would I even pass the class?

The next morning, after a mere 4 hours of sleep, I rose at 5 am and went to the riding range behind the old strip mall on campbell ln. The bikes were set and ready, and when asked to choose one, I just walked to the one closest to me (all but 2 were standard) which ended up being a kawasaki standard. That was the beginning of a whirlwind relationship.

I dreaded the time when we would actually get on the bikes and ride, for I was sure I would fall or just not be able to go. And what with all the gear shifting and clutch and throttle...it was so much to remember! We started by walking with our bikes in the friction zone of 1st gear, and then riding slowly in the friction zone of 1st gear while giving a little throttle. I stalled out quite a few times, but eventually rolled on that bit of throttle, released the clutch, picked my feet up, and before I knew it, was riding!

The rest of the day built on each previous exercise, and I quickly learned how to shift gears, make sharp turns, come to quick stops, weave, and heaps more. It was grueling, though, since we spent hours at a time on the hot hot blacktop in 95+ heat. We broke for lunch at 11, rode for another 1.5 hrs, and then the one other woman who hadn't ever ridden fell on a turn and asked if we could go back to continue the classroom activities.

We finished the day at around 3:30 and afterwards I immediately went to visit Dare, who I hadn't seen since right before I left for New Zealand! From there I rushed home to get ready to see the screening of Beasts of the Southern Wild in Nashville. Alison, Kate, and I drove there and enjoyed the film and were able to meet Dwight Henry, who plays Wink. We made it back home at around 11, at which point I jumped into bed and immediately zonked.

The next morning I forced myself up at 5:30. It was a long battle of "no, I'm not going in today, I've already learned a lot." But I got back on that bike and attempted to do an S turn inside of a rectangular perimeter. I failed pretty miserably every time. I no longer felt comfortable on the bike and even giving it throttle was difficult. Although I was thoroughly frustrated with myself, I continued on, and eventually got warmed up. The bike and I again became one. If you've seen avatar, when they choose an animal and attach themselves to it and the two become one––I'm positive they got that idea from motorcycles.

Around 10:30 evaluation time came and the final evaluation exercise was the S turn in the rectangular box. Oh that dreaded enemy. I tried it once and put my foot down to keep myself from falling. I tried it again and went out of the box on the beginning of the S, I tried it a third time and went too quickly getting back to my starter position and went out of the box. I kept the joke in my head that I just wasn't meant to be kept in a box. And on the fourth try I made the first U turn successfully, and the second I just barely touched the line, but succeeded in staying within my perimeter!

That day ended at around 12:30 after a written test and a few congratulations for everyone had passed, including me!

I'm extremely glad I put myself through that experience, for now I have a new, extremely fun skill! I just need a bike so I can ride!