Average

"You don't care about human suffering. You care about it because it makes you sad, but you're not doing anything to help it."
"When I see it I try to..."
"Yah, because it makes you sad."

The way he refuted my words broke my heart.
Almost more than anything he'd done to me, that was what hurt the most.
Believing I didn't have a light inside.
So dead and careless like the rest of the world....

I could feel the tears well up in my eyes time and time again as we watched the new movie Fury.
I felt the frenzied blinking, holding back the dam as I imagined the trauma and dehumanization people in war face.
Never would I ever experience and understand fully what those in the military see and feel.
And I'm grateful for them.

Handing the man my bag of gas station chips when he asked for money to buy a meal didn't make me a saint.
In fact, I wish I would have had more time to buy him something from the fast food place by the gas station but I didn't have any cash and I was going to be late for school.
But I didn't hesitate.
It didn't just make me sad, it made me worried that he wouldn't have anything to eat if I didn't give it to him.
When the homeless man asked me for change to buy a bus ticket I gave him all the ones I had and asked him his name because he has one.
He fucking has a name and a past and a future.
He has a name.
Shaking my hand, gentle grip, that smile someone gets when they're treated with kindness for the first time in God knows how long.
I don't do these things so that I can sleep better at night and I don't try to alleviate my sadness of seeing someone suffer.
I try to alleviate it because it fucking breaks my heart to see someone hurting.
I don't want them to be cold, hungry, hurting, lost or alone.

You know why this whole thing mattered?
It mattered because someone once held me when I cried about being unable to help someone and he was touched.
He couldn't believe that I had a heart that never faltered for anyone.
Despite my own struggles and the terribleness of the world, I still believe in the beauty.
And he found me beautiful....

Then I could feel the selfish tears coming because he didn't see me as beautiful.
He doesn't see the warmth I try to give and suddenly I was ordinary.
Flip flopping between believing I deserved to have someone believe I was extraordinary and someone seeing me as simply human.
By why not both?
It matters that the person I love doesn't see it.
He doesn't see or believe that inside I try to purge any selfish, mean, shallow, or judgmental characteristic and try to be kind, warm, and empathetic.
He doesn't see me trying to be a truly beautiful person.
He sees me as average.

I hate to admit how much that fact keeps me up at night.

....

I felt the shift ever so slightly

By the way there was no comfort in

My sheets 

And blankets. 

Toes crinkling the air 

Then shooting out for escape

I am trapped...

Trapped in a world of what if's and lies

Fancy, collectible pieces of mind

Peace of mind

Wasted time

Suddenly your skin felt so stifling

There was too much of you saturating

Every pour-

Essence

Being

You kill me

Like no one can....

     And I can't

               I can't...

Your skin is stifling

I can't breath. 

Mess

You're something like a mess

Resonating with a lie

And you'll probably let it fade

Out of mind

I need some place for these vacant notions

Altruistic abandon
Hollow devotions

You're a bitter thing

Skin hangs off bone

Turn to stone

Now

You are alone

Fields

"That field is already harvested. How did I not notice that? Or did they just do it?"
I felt the familiar distraught panic I developed every fall with the ending of September.
Mourning summer like an old friend.
It was as though over night the lush green corn fields turned to dry yellows,  sporadic like a tie dye shirt,  overtaking it like a disease.
You wake up one morning and have to go back into the house for a jacket and cringe as yet another girl gives an ode to fall by expressing her love of scarves,  crisp air,  and pumpkin spice lattes.
Sometimes I think people don't even know what existing really is but they say they're doing it.
I know I do.
Where does time go?
I'm transported to the image of me coming up over the few hills to my house,  the light soft and the sun going down.
It's so lonely but God,  it's so beautiful.
My horse is munching the last grasses of the summer in his pasture,  tail swinging half heartedly back and forth.
I don't know where my dad buried him,  it's been that long since I've been home.
The chickens are picking at the ground,  searching for goodies in the grass,  scratching at the ground when they find something, talking back and forth to one another in their own way.
My cat is walking down the driveway and slowly dips to the ground to roll on her back.
My dog sniffing around for something only he knows what.
The calves are no longer babies and are beginning to eat hay and corn.
Their cries go on for days when we wean then from their mothers.
It occurred to me that they're like people to the extent that things seem so bad at first . We cry,  get angry,  kick up a storm,  and days later we are back to being okay,  back to the places and things that make us feel comfortable.
Not right away,  but someday.
I miss the farm.
I know I can't go back but there are moments I'm transported by nostalgia to when life was a little bit slower.
Authentic living is how I reflect on it now.
The place I first learned lessons in a simplified and yet complex manner.
I learned about anger when a coyote would eat my favorite chicken.
Justice when I protected one of the ostracized animals and made them safe spaces in their pens.
Joy when a new life came into the world,  from the time their beaks poked through the shell to thriving and reaching adulthood,
Or rubbing my eyes and looking out the window and seeing a fresh,  shiny black calf sticking close to its mother on wobbly legs
Triumph when I stayed on my horse the next time he tried to buck me off.
Sorrow as I held many of my beloved pets as they died.
Loyalty as I cared for the sick and injured.
Duty and respect when caring for an animal until it reached the age where it would be used for food.
Gratitude when eating one.
The lessons were so simple but so profound.
I didn't live at home for the first summer in my life and I felt like time just flew.
I didn't feel fully adequate in fulfilling my newly established adult role in the world.
They say it's the best time,  your 20's, because you're the best physically you ever will be, you're not married and you don't have kids to hold you down.
Somehow it felt a lot like simply existing
Holding a place in time.
There was no richness to make it vibrant.
After recovery and graduation from my undergrad I felt some estrangement from the person I was.
A muted need to become intimately acquainted with myself and the person I am instead of rejecting it for once.
Suddenly I woke up and realized that I would have a professional career and can't waste time with people who care little for me and I them.
I want to call it an apathetic frenzy because that's what it is.
Nothing bad,  nothing good, everything normal.
It's something, I just don't know what yet.
All I know is that I don't want to wake up one day and realize I yellowed and withered like the fields.

....

"Have you ever read the Big Book? 

"Oh, a few pages for class." 

"I want you to read this paragraph." 

He handed me the Alcoholics Anonymous book with an Ace of clubs tucked inside as a bookmark. 

"And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation-some fact of my life-unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing, happens in God's world by mistake. Until I could accept my alcoholism, I could not stay sober; unless I accept life completely on life's terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes." 

So often the veterans at the transitional house bring solace to my aching mind these days. 

Growing pains I suppose you could call them. 

"What's the right answer?" I beg of them, eyes soft but piercing. 

I've sat in a chair on the porch of the transitional house nearly every evening shift this summer, legs pulled up, gazing across the street at the greens of the trees, vibrant pinks and purples of the flowers, peeling yellow house on the far right, and the smell of clean air and rain. 

"What's the secret to life?" I've asked a few of them. 

Some tell me I have to find out for myself because everyone's definition of happy is different. 

One told me that I need to make a list of my good qualities of my bad and see if I can be okay with the things I can't change then make a list of all the things I want to do in my life. 

In regards to love they tell me to find someone that is my best friend, that I can be completely honest with and talk to. 

It always makes me sad to think that so often these people are the ones that society has cast off and yet they have such simple and profound wisdom. 

"The 20's are hard." I tell them. 

Some say that they had a great decade, some say they spent it in the service or doing things like drugs and other activities they shouldn't have been doing.

I'm confused and I'm depressed. 

Sometimes I think that my relationship is a joke and like it wouldn't matter if I was there or not. 

All people are replaceable if we're being honest, and sometimes I think I'm more trouble than I'm worth.
Or at least he kind of seems that way at times.
Man I could go for a week at my mom's house, just hiding away with people I know love me.
That safe place...

Never in my life have I not been without a plan.
Never have I ever lived day by day. 

Sometimes this depression and fear leads me to wish for a car accident or something where I die. 

I know how melodramatic and pathetic that is but I can't see a purpose right now and maybe it would be justice for all the shitty things I've done to people and for my lack of direction at present. 

It's me feeling sorry for myself, I know, but I know I'm not alone in feeling this way. 

If you ever pray, could you throw one in for me? 

It's agony feeling this way, this apathy or emptiness. 

Feeling sorry for myself, I apologize. 

Just lonely and lost. 

For once I don't know where to go for the answers. 

Frenzy

"Snooze the alarm."
One eye open, fumbling with my phone.
"How's it already morning?"
He sighs as he pulls his arm tighter around me.
9:15 am, the cheery tune begins to ramble off, making me feel homicidal like every morning I hear it.
He rolled out of bed, hair in an Einstein mess, looking around the room as his eyes adjusted to his glasses.
"Are you going to make me breakfast like you said you would?"
That grin.
Every time.
Sighhhhhhhh........."Yes, hold on."
Wrapping the blankets tighter around me then all of a sudden, not at all, I forced myself up and out of our bed.
Our bed.
Crack, plop.
Crack, plop.
Crack, plop.
Crack, plop.
The eggs began to sizzle.
I reached up for a coffee cup, wondering how I was so tired.
"Fuck I don't want to go to law school. I was up forever reading for this stupid class."
Weaving in and out of rooms collecting books and papers, he's getting ready for school.
He stops in the living room and sits on the floor in front of the coffee table.
"Summer is gone."
The melancholic voice of the man I've come to know so well.
I set the eggs and coffee down then set out making him snacks.
Soon we're packed and in his car so that I can drop him off on campus.
A comforting familiarity to our routine.
He smiles, gives me a kiss, then gets his bag.
I tell him to have a good day and drive off.
It's school time once again.

You know what gets me?
Time.
My dad used to tell me hat the older you get, the faster it goes.
Never was that more pertinent than when I was putting the letters from my ex in a Walmart bag and then taking them to the dumpster.
I wanted to hold on to them but couldn't find sufficient ammo for that nostalgic argument
No reason  to keep mementos and ghosts of others in our apartment.
Ours.
He was that good looking, long haired guy at the gym that I had to have and now he's my boyfriend whom I have a lease with.
A year ago I was finishing my undergrad.
A year ago I was with someone else.
A year ago I was far less confident.
A year ago I didn't know if I was going to go to grad school or not.
Often times I wonder what I would have thought if I ad read my blog entries when it all started or even if I read the next year's now.
Change is inevitable.
Movement of time is inevitable.
I just keep hoping that I make the most of it and don't live afraid.
Lately I've been fixated on the notion of being ordinary and not doing enough with my life.
But maybe that's the sign that I'm not going to settle for being ordinary.

I've wanted to write but couldn't find the words.
I wanted to write something beautiful but felt so muted.
Lately I've felt like a ghost, despondent and transparent.
So I started taking my depression medicine again.
Sometimes I lay on the couch thinking about the people that I hurt on my way up to this point.
I feel selfish.
When the urge to get away takes hold I run as fast and far as I can, with no consideration to those in my path.
I wish I could tell L how I felt and tell him the whole story, but I know that the truth would break his heart.
Sometimes I wish I could see T and go camping and do some of the things we used to, but the heart has a funny way of only uncovering the few good times, shirking the bad in recollection.
I need more hobbies.
I need more intelligence.
I need to gather more information on life and stuff in general.
I need to be more extraordinary.
I need to be more intense.
I need to be more interesting.
I need to be more confident.
Lots of needs.
Lately I've forgotten to take note of the things I do have, or when I do, they seem to pale in comparison to the rest of the world.
A boring, maleable human.
I just want to stop feeling like I'm in a frenzy.

I start school tomorrow, and even though I hate doing house hold chores I'm enjoying the new apartment.
I trust him and think he loves me, I just have to stop doubting why he would love someone as plain as me.
Two jobs, grad school, enough money to pay my bills, eat, and still have fun now and then, and someone that cares enough to put up with me daily and still pull me close at night, so I would say I'm still coming out on top.
Blessed.
I hope everyone is doing well, as I've missed you all and I've missed writing.
Just trying to get out of the empty frenzy.

Water With Poison

Over and over I hear people talk about recovery and that it's the mental aspect that's the hardest to reconcile with.

Accepting self, accepting what happened, weight gain, change how you perceive yourself, 

Blah blah blah. 

I believe that, but you know what's really been the hardest for me? Getting rid of toxic people.
Valuing myself enough to get rid of these kinds of people. 

"She's not your friend." 

How many times had he said this to me? 

I felt a little indignant and rushed to defend my friend. 

He didn't know her like I did, this is just how she acts when she's upset, I just have to ride it out. 

"You're a selfish, self-righteous cunt!" she screamed at me. 

Am I? No, I didn't think I was.... tears were pooling and I had to walk away before I said something I would regret. 

"You're right. She's not my friend." The "I told you so" said for him. 

She had always been opinionated, ever since we had met. 

Always been there for me during all the hard times. 

When I moved in for the summer I thought it would be fun to live with one of my best friends. 

At first it was awesome. We would go to the gym or spend time doing things together, I would come to her for advice or to listen when I was upset.
Store runs, ice cream runs, craft days, and bad TV marathons. 

It was the beginning of summer and nothing seems impossible or terrible when the air is warm and everything is alive.

It only took a few weeks for things to begin their steady decline. 

She began her new job as a caseworker at the prison, I was talking on the phone too loudly at night and she had to be up early for training. 

Selfish. 

Wanted me to help her lose weight for her trip to the beach with her boyfriend in August, but I had gone by myself since she worked while I was home and I worked while she was home. 

Selfish.
Her comments becoming harsher and harsher, her complaints becoming pettier and pettier.

"Take out the trash." 

I was going to...

"Your dish is in the sink." 

I was letting it sit to make it easier to wash...

"You have a book and blanket sitting out in the basement living room. We (her boyfriend and her) feel like we don't have a space of our own because you have stuff everywhere." 

Your stuff is LITERALLY everywhere in the house and I have one thing here and there.

"You're going on another vacation?"  

Yes, it's the first time in a long time that I've seen my uncle and cousin, oh, and I have a long distance relationship until school so I want to see him again. 

"It's good you're working every day of the week because you've been gone too much." 

I don't mind the work I'm just tired. 

"I asked you to work out with me but all you care about is yourself."

You were at work when I wasn't! I gave you tips and ways to modify your diet but you didn't take any of it into consideration! 

"You shouldn't be going on another trip to see your boyfriend because you'll be spending money that you don't have." 

You can fuck off. My money. My relationship. 

"You don't have a real job."

I think the work I do is meaningful and provides skills I can use when I'm a licensed therapist. I don't have a career because I need a masters to have my chosen career. Only two and a half more years. 

"Part of being an adult is cleaning up and not sleeping in my boyfriend's bed."

He said I could! My family is moving my bed up when I move the first weekend of August. He sleeps with you. He told me he doesn't mind! 

"You're a selfish, self-righteous cunt who only thinks about themselves." 

You only said  that because I didn't bend over backwards to make you happy. You know why? YOU'RE NEVER HAPPY!

"Your boyfriend needs to be okay with me. He doesn't even care if I like him or not." 

You're right, he could give a fuck less if you like him or not because he hates you and he thinks you treat me like shit. How you feel really doesn't matter to me either in this matter. I'm happy. 

"You do whatever you want." 

Yah, because I'm an adult. 

Back and forth and back and forth. One day can be great and the next she's shouting that I'm a whore. 

She says terrible things to me and pretends it's all okay the next day. 

I just want to be friends but I'm constantly whiplashed by these things that she says 

Finally I realized that my boyfriend was right. 

She isn't a good person. 

That is so hard for me because I want to believe that everyone is but she has pushed me to the point where I cry after our fights and doubt myself. 

That's not a friend.  

What makes me feel most upset is the fact that I allowed myself to be treated this way. 

If I valued myself then no one would speak to me or treat me the way that they do.

I hate her right now. I hate her for the way she talks to me, the way she makes me feel, the way nothing is good enough, but most of all, I hate the way I LET her treat me. 

Here's what's hard, letting people go that are not good for me. 

Call it hope, seeing the best in people, whatever, it's wrong. 

Everyone is worth something. Everyone is worth respect. Don't forget that you are too. 

Don't be abusive and don't allow others to be in your life that are as well.
When we establish some boundaries and maybe make amends she can be back in my life, but not until then.
Respect is earned. 

You can't grow if you're being watered with poison.