Little Talks

So here I am at 11:30 on a Sunday night, two weeks before the end of the semester trying to figure out if I can possibly pay off my U-Bill so I can schedule for classes in the Spring. That sounds about right, hmm?

It's my downfall. It's the thing that kills me every time. I procrastinate, I push it off. I forget and pretend the thing isn't ever-lingering. I have this problem where I wait until the last possible moment to try to fix a problem and then I get frustrated when it doesn't turn out how I wanted.

I'm preparing to hear from my advisor that there's nothing to be done. That I have to sit out this extra semester. Three weeks ago that was fine with me. I was okay with taking the time off. Now, though, I feel anxious. Noah has asked me to talk to Pat and to visit the financial aid office, and now that that little idea is in my head, that maybe I wouldn't have to wait out a whole semester because of my financial aid being adjusted, I can't stop thinking about being back on campus. I'm so ready to go back and I didn't really realize it until this idea was planted. The time off has been great- it's been exactly what I needed. I have needed this time to get my head straight. To take care of myself, to work a little, and to just enjoy some free time. But it's time that I go back. I don't want to sit here waiting anymore. I don't want to feel like I don't have a purpose, like I'm just screwing around while everyone else is working towards something.

I'm worried that Noah has seen this in me. I'm worried that he has all of these plans to go abroad and to live and to explore- not because I could lose him. No. I want him to do those things. Honestly and truly, I want him to have those amazing experiences. I read a quote a few days ago that kind of hit me. It talked about dreams, and how there are people who will talk about their dreams and make 'inspiration boards', and then there are people who work for their dreams day in and day out. Can you guess which people reach their goals? What scares me is that I am the former and Noah is the latter. I talk and I dream, but I don't achieve. He has achieved so much already and I know he's going to do and see great things. I love him, but I'm so scared that I won't be able to keep up. I'm even more afraid that he's going to realize the person I am and leave me behind.

Anyway, I don't know what news the next few days will bring but I guess I'm preparing for disappointment because of my actions rather than a strike of luck. Whatever happens, happens. If I have to sit out a whole extra semester, there has to be a reason, or I'll find it. I can't sit and mope. One thing is for sure, 6 months without Noah would be easier to deal with if I had school to keep me busy. But that's not the driving force here- the point is to set my goals and work towards them. Not talk about them, not make pretty pictures to "inspire" me. To make real attainable goals that can be accomplished and to get one step closer to realizing those dreams little by little.

I started this post feeling sucky, and to be honest, I don't feel all that better. But I do feel a little more encouraged than before and I want to make a list, a list of dreams and goals. That post will follow soon.

Small Windows

I wonder, what do the neighbors see when they look in our small windows? Do they see the pain, and the hurt? The loss? Do they notice that your car hasn't been in the driveway for 4 months? Do they realize what happened here? Can they guess?

Were they around when you came and moved your stuff out? Have they noticed that the house stays quiet for the most part because only one person lives here now?

When I look out of our windows and look into their lives, I don't notice much difference. I don't even know their names. Maybe it's because I'm not here anymore, I'm not sure. But it does make me wonder if I'm the least attentive in this place. If the neighbors see us and feel sorry for us, or if they just look the other way.

Today

All I want today is to let that black dog in. I don't know why, but all I want is to let the darkness wash over me, to let it take over. It's almost as if I've been missing it. I think I'll stay at the apartment tonight, I'm not ready to go home. I just can't do it.

Scheduling

See, this is what stresses me out. I've spent the last hour and half looking at what classes I still need to take to finish a degree in social work. I've made a nice little organized list and I've put the groups all together. Neat. Then I start to actually plan how the following semesters would look, and I quickly lose my nerve.

I've really been thinking about what Noah told me the other day, about just finishing. Just getting a degree in something so that I'm not limited. I had heard that how many times before I took my semester off? It might be odd that it's just now resonating with me, but maybe I just needed to be in a different mindset. Regardless of the reason, it's been on my mind. So tonight, I got the urge to pull up my degree audit and see where I stand. You know, it's only intimidating when I write it down in front of me. When the red and blue categories look back at me from the computer screen, I find myself to be much more content.

Organizing and categorizing was fun, and I was on a roll. I got excited looking at class descriptions and imagining being back in class again. How terrible is it that I almost wish I had homework to do right now? As soon as I started putting classes into semesters and trying to make them fit, I became frustrated and overwhelmed. I became anxious at the idea of being here for another two years- which is about equal to the two summer sessions and the real three full semesters I'll have to take at this point. I'm suddenly angry at myself for taking this time off.

What was I thinking? 

When did I decide it would be a good idea to set myself back even more? I'm not sure that I quite regret taking the time off at this point, but maybe I'm not as happy with it anymore. I feel like this decision is weighing so heavily on my shoulders: do I go back or not? A month ago I felt as though I was finally out from under all of this, and now here it is again. Only this time, it's bigger. It seems like life and death. It's not just me anymore, floating through the void and waiting for opportunities to show up on my doorstep. I have to start planning and thinking of the future in serious ways.

So okay, why don't I want to be here? What is it about two more years that terrifies me and stresses me out?

At the top of the list would be the financial burden that two more years would bring, but if I'm being honest, I think that even above that is the question of what will happen to Noah and I? He's set to graduate at the end of the next school year, so what happens when I still have a summer and a semester to go- at least? What happens when he gets a job offer several states away and I have to finish school here? That's something that worries me very much, because even though we've had the conversations and we're on the same page, nothing is set in stone. Things change and stuff happens.

I'm sitting here nervous and frustrated and worried, and all I want, all I've ever wanted from this situation is to be more content and more at ease.

A Change is Gonna Come

Noah said something to me today that maybe I didn't really want to hear at the time, but the more that I think on it, the more I realize he has a point. 

I took the remainder of Fall semester off from school. I withdrew from the university and it's been a huge help. I'm not sure if I could have pulled through everything with the grades that I would have needed or feeling good about myself and the work that I have done. So today, Noah asked me what my goals were for a month from now, and I didn't have an answer. For so long, two and a half years, every semester has been about figuring out what I want or need to do with my life, and finally I have a moment to just live right now. I don't have to plan ahead, I can just work five days a week and take whatever is thrown at me in stride. But then, not having an answer worried me a little too- and made me feel slightly foolish. If I don't have goals, what is the purpose here? Why did I take a half semester and possibly a whole one to follow if I don't have goals to pursue?

Then he said the thing. And in the moment, I heard him and I was a little disappointed. He said to me "I want for you to go to school and get a degree, so that if something happens and we have to move, you have options other than just at HyVee." And for half a second, I thought "Hey. That's not fair. No one gets to tell me how to be prepared or be happy." But then the idea of not being happy and not being prepared got to me, and I started to wonder- what if I never figure it out? That's when he said the second thing. He told me that what makes you happy is what comes later. Right now, the goal is to get a job. Just push through, get it done. What you do from 9-5 is not what has to make your life whole. He mentioned that I want to be a mom, and that is what will fulfill me, but before that, I have to be ready to roll with the punches.

So at that time I was just nodding along and thinking "yeah yeah, says everyone else," but now that that has been stirring in my head all day, I wonder. And he might have a point. I am mildly interested in CAFS, and I have nearly the entire major completed. Why would I start over now? Why would I spend the money and time when I could just push through and finish this time in my life? 

College isn't for everyone, but one thing that I disagreed with Noah on was this- he said that no one likes going to class or doing the homework, but it's something that just has to be done. But I do. And I did! I liked to learn the material, and sure homework and tests weren't fun, but I enjoyed learning. I'm starting to think that this break will be what I need to recharge and power through my remaining year. I have only ever wanted to enjoy school, and I think I can do that. 

The pieces fell into place before, and they will again. I will end up exactly where I'm supposed to be, when I'm supposed to be there. I certainly have to believe that, after everything.

Noah

"You got a sandwich....from Jeff's Pizza?" 

Six weeks ago, I was riding a bus home that I normally wouldn't be riding, and on that bus, I met a guy that I otherwise wouldn't have sat next to. I was on campus eating dinner with a girl from my sorority and he was coming back from the career fair. The small details are what make this story- to me anyway. Five minutes earlier and I would have caught the right bus, and I would have passed by this guy and probably never have known him. On a campus of 32,000 people it still amazes me that I can recognize faces of people that I don't know the names of, and probably never will, but I can sit next to one person on a random bus and be completely changed. In the five minutes that we had on that bus ride, Noah and I joked about pizza and chatted about our majors. Before he got off at his stop, he reached into his bag and pulled out a business card that he had been using at the career fair. "You should give me a call sometime," he said with a sweet smile and then he disappeared. I have since learned that he was pretty nervous making that move and he didn't expect to hear from me at all. I'm so glad I proved him wrong.

Noah is a senior in Electrical Engineering with a year left to go. He is from Roseville, Minnesota which is very close to the Twin Cities. He has a younger brother, Jonah, and he used to swim competitively. Recently he got a really amazing co-op with a company in St. Joseph, Missouri which is where he'll be spending six months starting in January. Noah likes to cook and experiment with things, trying to figure out how they work. He is also the optimal height for hugs and hand holding and he is the perfect mix of muscle and teddy bear- though he doesn't quite appreciate that description.

On our first date, we made mozzarella cheese together. Yep, that's right. Pretty adorable right? On our second date, we went star gazing for 2 hours. Recently, I volunteered with him and a club that he's president of. Next week, he's going to prom with me- that'll be another post I'm sure.

It's amazing to me how much can happen and change in a month and half.

Noah is a gift, a blessing. There's not a doubt in my mind. When I'm with him, I feel content. I don't feel guilty or apprehensive. He listens to me and he is genuine with his words. He is willing to wait for me, and that's amazing. For 12 months I've been on a hard, dark, lonely path and in the last six weeks I have made some major life decisions that have shown me a light at the end of the tunnel for the first time in so long. I have withdrawn from Iowa State for the remainder of the semester and I might take all of Spring semester off. I am working almost full time at HyVee and I am working on sorting out career options for myself. I want to be happy with my life, and if that means not going back to school, I need to know what it does mean. I had to go early alum with Phi Beta Chi, and while I love my sisters to no end, it's been so nice to have a little breathing room. I started a Bible study with Abby and for the first time in so long I can almost see how all of this will work towards making me a better woman. I started dating Noah, and I'm so happy with him. Really, actually happy.

All of these choices, they have been weights lifted from my shoulders. It's almost surreal; I have felt real happiness in these last few weeks and it's been so long since I've felt this way that I almost don't even know what to do with myself. Here's what I do know though:
I do know that the choices I am making are good ones.
I do know that I like Noah and that he likes me.
I do know that the way he talks makes me think he wants this to last, and I do too.

I do know that I'm joyful, and that is something worth holding on to.

Your Albatross

Two weeks ago I went down to Des Moines for the Petersen wedding. On that Friday, I went to Lasting Impressions down in the East Village and I got this guy done. It's an albatross and it has a pretty significant story to it.

There's a phrase that says "there's an albatross around your neck" and it means that you carry all of your regrets and worries and everything else with you to the point where it weighs you down. The albatross is often depicted to be dead, and so if you think about it, you're carrying this dead weight around your neck, and for what purpose? So then there's this song, this amazing song that speaks to my heart. You've probably heard of Bastille, they sing a very popular song on the radio called Pompeii. Just as a shameless plug here, the album that these two songs come off of- Bad Blood- it's fabulous. I highly recommend it. So the song- it's called The Weight of Living (pt.1) and the whole point of this song it to talk about letting go of your albatross. Within the first few lines it says "Can you carry it with no regrets? Can you stand the person, you've become?" and that always hits me. Because no, I can't. I can't carry this weight with me and I can't stand the person I've become. I'm so ashamed and embarrassed of myself on a daily basis. Later in the song a phrase is repeated, "it's the sun in your eyes," and this part means a couple things for me. In the middle of my depression, on my darkest days, when I literally step outside and see the sun, my spirits are lifted. I am reminded that life goes on, that the sun will still shine. But the song talks about letting go and earlier in the verse it says "though it's soaring still above your head, it is out of sight and none shall see." So you're letting this bird go, and though it still flies above you, it's out of sight and out of mind. But then you start searching for it in the sky.I don't know how many people with depression find it as easy as I do to run back to it. When days are hard, I want so badly to just fall into the unfeeling black hole. There are days when I search it out because sometimes it's easier to feel blah and float through days than to fight every step of the way to be positive and happy. So I see it as this- you let your bird go, but you miss it on some level. So you're searching, searching, but all that you see is the sun. And the sun reminds you that life goes on. That things will be okay. That it is alright to let the albatross go. And that's why I got this guy on my arm. He's somewhere that I can see him every single day and he reminds me to let it go (not a Frozen reference). He reminds me that it's okay to shed the weight.

"When you just can't stand the heavy weight of living..."

My Dark Passenger

That's right, I'm pulling from Dexter. Don't worry, I'm not going to kill anyone.

I can always tell when they're vying for my attention. Days when I wake up and I'm already on the verge of tears. Days when everything reminds me of something I've "lost." Notice I put that word in quotes, because sometimes it's not even something that I truly lost or even had in the first place. Days when my music does nothing to cheer me up and every little thing that I do seems to be a reminder of something from my past.

The Dark Passener, my Black Dog. He wants my attention. He NEEDS it to live. If I starve that dog, he becomes desperate.

I hate these days. Days when I feel strong are easy. Even days when I'm already down and out and I know my passenger has won are easier. But these days, where I'm in between. Where I know I can fall or fight are so hard. All I want to do is fall. I want to give in.

There is that small part that begs me to try, but oh how faint and weak that voice is. 

Things on my mind today:

-my mom and dad; how things used to be

-my childhood and the old house

-Keaton and Ragbrai; it was an escape

-my choices- or lack thereof- regarding my major and schooling 

A Funny Thing Happened

For the second year now I have worked at the Iowa State Fair for the Fruit and Vegetable Growers Association. Through this job, I met Brooke who owns the business that I worked for during Ragbrai as well as a another family who has asked me to work at their farmers market booth in the fall. This job has been such a blessing, and while it's a long ride, "you can do anything for 11 days."

This year, because of when school starts, I actually am missing formal recruitment for my sorority. Now since we're non-facility and for a couple of other reasons that I don't quite understand, we don't actually participate in what most sororities call "formal recruitment" but we are allowed to have a booth set up and that gives us the chance to get our group out there among the other big names. We usually only draw one or two ladies from this process, but it's still worth it for even just those few. 

While it's not a huge deal that I'm missing this event, it was still a chance to see all of my sisters again before school starts up and an opportunity to meet some new possible members. I was on Snapchat yesterday looking at some of the girls' stories and I suddenly realized- I was and I am a part of that community, whether I'm here or there. I didn't have to sit here and feel forlorn and left out, those girls were my sisters and friends and very soon I would be seeing them again. 

I'm not sure why this realization seems so important to me, but I really can't wait to get back to campus tomorrow and start this new year. Change is in the air, and I have to believe that it's only uphill from here.

Poetry

I wanted to put this down before it disappeared into the great void that is the internet.

This one is called "Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep" and is written by Mary Elizabeth Frye.

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I did not die.

I think I'd like this poem to be read at my funeral, if I were to choose.

Dear Brother

How can I ever begin to thank you for all that you've done for me?

When things have been rough, you have been there for me. Even when the dust settled and you were no longer obligated to call me sister, you have reached out to me.

I'm not sure I would have ever known you if it hadn't been for that flood and for that summer, and for that I am thankful, despite everything else that has happened.

You've supported me, congratulated me, and opened your heart to me.
So thank you big brother, it means the world to me.

It Won't Work

I never heard from Keaton again. And that's okay. Stuff happens, I can't expect every single guy I ever meet to flirt with to fall head over heels with me. And I don't want them to. Because I know the other side of it too. Not a week after my date, I met a guy at church who goes to the college group. I've seen him around, just never had a formal conversation with him before.

It's amazing how quickly these things can get burned out. Since last Wednesday, we've been talking and flirting. I've seen him almost every day since then too. We sat outside and talked until 3 am on Saturday, and he helped me move yesterday.

Things were fine, until they weren't. We went on a "date" to Hickory Park, but it wasn't super great I guess. I told him everything that has been going on with my family, which isn't too crazy because I'm pretty open with it. But now every time he looks at me, it's like he expects me to crumble. I don't want anyone to look at me with eyes full of pity. I'm having a rough go of it now, but it'll certainly get better and there are others who are having an even worse time. And I'm a quiet person most times, especially when a lot is going on, but I think he takes that as me trying to hold it all together when it's just me meditating on stuff.

It's been easy to talk to Joey, but I don't think this is going to be something that works. I can just feel it. That's another thing- he makes plans. A lot of them. Quickly. And now I almost feel obligated to follow through with some of them.

This all makes me sick to my stomach, which is surprising because isn't this what I wanted? Someone who would look after me, be my escape. It's all just going so quickly. I want it to slow down, I wanted to be able to enjoy the little things, the newness. This feeling in my gut is almost the same as when I was with Mario and I knew it needed to end.

This is the bottom line- even if I wanted to be in a relationship, I'm not ready. I am not emotionally or spiritually available to have this kind of commitment. It just won't work.

Firsts

So this past Saturday I enjoyed a few firsts. I went on my first ever real date and I had my first ever real kiss. Despite all that has been going on for the last month or so, that one night was a bright spot in the darkness.

I mentioned the Christensen family in my last post, they are the owners of the business I worked with for Ragbrai. Their son Keaton was on the trip this past week and he was the one who asked me out. I must say, it took him long enough to get to it, but it finally did happen.

There's not much to talk about, we only went out to a movie, but he did pick me up, he met my dad, and he opened my car door for me. He also paid for my ticket and my drink. He waited until the movie was almost over to start holding my hand and then he put his arm around me, and it wasn't until we were back in the car after the movie that he kissed me. When he pulled away, he said to me "Man, I have been waiting to do that all week long." He drove me home and we sat in my driveway for another 15 minutes and then he walked me to my door and kissed me goodnight.

I thought that things had gone great. He hadn't tried to go for more and I really appreciated that. We had a good time I thought, we laughed and joked around. One of the reasons I started crushing on him during Ragbrai was because he listens to country music just about as much as I do if not probably more, so to me the whole "farm boy" thing was a major plus.

Maybe it was because I told him it was my first kiss, or maybe meeting my dad was too much. I don't know what it was, though I really wish I knew. There's nothing worse than thinking something went great and having it turn out the opposite. If the date was awful, I could have walked away knowing it wasn't going anywhere. But why would this guy sit in the car and kiss me for 15 minutes and walk me all the way to my door to kiss me goodnight if it meant absolutely nothing. I told a friend that maybe kissing people and going on dates doesn't mean as much as it once did.

One thing is for sure, in this current age, social media becomes the tool to hide behind. Instead of sitting around for the last four days and wondering if I'll hear from him again, I would much rather have received a text that said "hey, I don't think this will work out, but thanks for the date!" I mean, I could respect that and I could move on. Now I'm stuck here between "do I confront him to know for sure" or "do I just let it go and assume I know the answer." The worst part of all of this is that he works Ragbrai and he works market, so there's no way I'll be able to avoid him in the future if I ever work either of those things.

I had a great time. It was a great first date and a great first kiss. I don't want those things to be ruined, I want to look back on those in the future and be able to say "I'm glad he wasn't a total creeper, that was all really nice." But overall, I want to be able to work with everyone and not have any problems. Does anyone know the protocol for a one-date working relationship? Do I act totally cool like it never happened? Do I ignore him completely? I guess I should be thankful that it didn't go further, as in more dates, because that would have probably strained my relationship with Brooke and the others.

I have found over the past few days, and the last week especially, that I want to reach out to Brooke and talk to her. When I went to market last Saturday, I ended up spilling everything to her about my parents and she was really great about it. I'm kind of looking to her like a sister, and she's not acting like that's weird. She encouraged me to talk to her if I needed someone. So I want to be thankful that I can have that relationship. I want to be thankful that things haven't taken a worse turn.

I think that the reason this particular guy has thrown me for such a loop is because of everything else I've been going through. He is this farm boy, this gentlemen, this guy that makes me laugh. We have the same sense of humor, the same taste in music, and we can talk easily- mostly because we're both pretty sarcastic. This guy is the kind of guy I've thought about dating, and in this particular time in my life, he was kind of a light in the darkness. In the middle of everything, I thought that maybe if I was having a bad day, he could come get me and take me away for a bit. He could be my escape. I just wanted someone to hang out with, someone who cared about me and just me. Someone who was mine and I was theirs. Just for a little bit.

Obviously, it's better for so many reasons that things aren't working out- the relationships I have with the other Christensen's being first. And maybe he only ever did want sex, but he was just patient. Maybe he realized that if that was my first kiss, it was probably my first everything and he didn't want to deal with that. Maybe I was too young- only a three year difference really. Maybe maybe maybe. I have to stop blaming myself though, because here's the ultimate reason that would have put a stop to any long-term relationship: no matter how far I am from God right now, I know that I could never be with someone who didn't love Jesus. I couldn't live my life forever the way that I have been living it now, and I know my friends wouldn't let me either.

None of that means that it doesn't hurt, that it doesn't sting. I can sit here and know that a week ago today we were flirting with each other, and that four days ago he kissed me and told me he had been waiting to do that for a while. I can sit here and feel the butterflies when he held my hand because it had been so long since someone had paid attention me like that. He obviously was interested for some period of time, and I'm trying so hard not to wonder if it was something I did, because that doesn't matter. I'm struggling a bit here and I just want to be okay with this. I have to make it okay.

RAGBRAI 2014

This past week, I worked with a small business to bring breakfast food to some Ragbrai riders. We worked in 6 towns Sunday through Friday, were up before 3:30 most days, and walked away from several minor injuries and one car accident. But I'm getting ahead of myself, so let me start from the beginning.

I worked at the Iowa State Fair last year through the Iowa Fruit and Vegetable Growers Association, and the woman who was my day manager is one of the owners of the business that did Ragbrai. Breakfast Delights sells a small variety if breakfast items, those of which I have tried has been pretty amazing- try the french toast the next time you're down at the farmers market! This past Spring, Brooke offered me a chance to work with Breakfast Delights and I took the opportunity. I knew a little of what I was getting into- long days, busy lines, and early mornings- but I had no idea just how overall fulfilling my trip would actually be.

We left on a Saturday afternoon from Brooke's home in Johnston with a truck and trailer, a small SUV, and 9 people in our caravan. After about two hours of driving, we met up with the rest of our crew and gained another truck towing a trailer and our huge refrigerated truck- the reefer. With four vehicles, two trailers, and 14 people, we headed to a town just outside of Hull, IA. Bedtime was about 10 o'clock, the latest that it would be for any of the nights.

With four hours of sleep under our belts, we headed out at 2:30 am- you read that right- and drove about half an hour to Hull. We passed through Sioux Center on the way and right past Dordt. That was a little bittersweet for me, I won't deny it. We arrived shortly after 3 and began set up soon after that. I had been warned that day 1 would be the toughest because no one really knew what was going on or where anything was. Set up took us two and a half hours that day, and by comparison, our shortest set up was about 30 minutes in Nora Springs.

One of the things that will stick out to me about this trip are the injuries that I managed to acquire throughout the week. You may be thinking that that seems like an insignificant memory to keep, but you'd be surprised. At 4 am on day one, I caught my right ankle on the rolling bracket that the fridge sits on, all steel and sharp corners. I threw a bandage on it and moved on, it wasn't anything too serious. By the end of the week, I had run into that God-forsaken fridge every single day, except for Friday, but that's a note for later on.

Hull went well that day, we were fairly busy and people fell into their rolls easily. I was in charge of condiments. "Would you like cheese, salsa, or sour cream on that? How about strawberries or whipped cream on the french toast?" Yes, I did tangle my words and asked if people wanted eggs on their eggs, and once or twice I may have put strawberries on the eggs, but for the most part, I had my job down pat. I was a regular pro at slingin' those toppings!

Tear down that afternoon was so excruciatingly slow, all I wanted to do was get in the car and leave. Eventually we did, and after some much needed reorganization I must say, but it still took us about 3 hours. We drove through to Spencer and stayed in a hotel with a king size bed and pull out couch for two nights- that detail is not so important to anyone but me, because without the little trigger pieces, the whole week is one huge blur and days and events run together pretty easily. You don't know how many times I've sat here and picked through each day trying to separate them out. The next day was spent in Terrill, IA and brought more good business. For whatever reason, I can't remember much at all about this day. I know that we were set up right down the street from a huge line of porta-potties, but that's all I have. Some memory, huh? We stayed in Spencer that night as well and that evening our crew ate dinner together at a local Bar and Grill where I was able to show off my amazing talent of tying cherry stems with my tongue. That was also the first night that Brent- Brooke's father and also co-owner, had to travel 3 hours to Albert Lea with the reefer because it wasn't operating up to par.

The next morning, Tuesday, we shipped off for Bancroft, IA. We had cut set up time down to about an hour or slightly less. Everyone was meshing well, but the morning was dragging a bit. The way Ragbrai is set up, there are designated breakfast and lunch towns along the route. Since we serve breakfast food, it's obvious that we would try to get set up in breakfast towns. For whatever reason, we were unable to do that for Tuesday and instead we ended up in Bancroft, the lunch town. While there were plenty of bikers throughout the day, we just didn't have the business because no one wanted breakfast food. It was hit or miss, and we missed. This did give the crew a bit of downtime though and it gave us all a chance to bond a bit. This was also the day I stood with my right shoulder in the sun from 5:30 to noon, so that afternoon I had a pretty good sunburn. By this time in the week, I had tripped over the fridge a handful of times and cut my fingers on the metal pans at least twice. I also touched a hot sterno that day and burned my fingers. Besides all of that, this was also the day that I got my picture taken with Dallas Clark, former tight end for the Iowa Hawkeyes and Indianapolis Colts. I honestly had no idea who the guy was, but the fact that he was Iowa raised and had played for an NFL team was cool enough for me.

Myself, Dallas Clark, and Meg. And that's Brent in the background making the face; he probably wouldn't be pleased that I didn't crop him out.

After tear down that day we headed to our third hotel of the week which happened to be the Country Inn and Suites across the parking lot from the barn rest stop near Albert Lea that the South Dakota trips would always stop at. That too was a little bittersweet to be so close to former memories, and yet miles and years away. We all ate at Burger King that night and then we went bowling. Brent and his wife Joni missed this time as well because they were making the second return trip with the reefer which still hadn't been fixed. Bowling was a good time though because we managed to find an old shady place in the tiny town of Norwood. We hung out for a couple hours and played some pool as well. Most everyone went to bed early as usual that evening but Meg and myself hung out in one of the guys' rooms until about 10 o'clock. Maybe not our best choice, considering we only got about 5 hours of sleep, but I think it was worth it getting to know everyone a little better.

Clear Lake was our destination for Wednesday and it was a gorgeous spot. It was a lunch town again, but we had steady business. We were set up next to some hippy pizza makers, ones that we were convinced shouldn't have passed inspection, and we had a little drama with a vendor two spots down early in the day, but it was a good one that passed quickly. This was every one's down day I think too, because the mood took a tangible dip. The car ride back to the hotel that afternoon was spent releasing anger and complaining. I found it actually worked quite well and was fairly therapeutic. We ate at the casino buffet attached to our hotel that evening and a small group went to play softball. The most memorable part of that day was when the older boys found a broken golf ball and decided to break it apart with the bat. Kris pitched to Keaton, and the ball didn't shatter, but instead flew all the way to the outfield where it got stuck on the fence on the crack.

Keaton's golfball. I thought this picture turned out pretty awesome in general.

Our next morning, now Thursday, was the only day we got to sleep past 3:30, but perhaps we should have been up earlier. We managed to make a wrong turn or underestimate the amount of time it would take us to get to Nora Springs and we arrived shortly before 5:30, which was usually about the time we were ready to start serving food. Set up that day was lightening paced and we were ready to go no later than 6:00- pretty impressive if you ask me! Since we had been in lunch towns the past two days, we had stayed later. The delay in set up didn't help either. On top of everything, Nora Springs was only about 10 miles out from the starting point so no one wanted to stop yet. It wasn't a great day for business and the customers seemed to be a little extra sassy, but for whatever reason I think the crew really had fun that day. We packed up around 11 which seemed way too early, at at a Pizza Ranch for lunch, and we drove to Waterloo where we checked into a beautiful Holiday Inn & Suites. That evening the crew relaxed and prepared for the final push on Friday.

So here's where I'm going to stop and do short summary of injuries. By this point, we have one day left in Tripoli, Iowa. I have caught my ankles on the fridge about 10 times, I have rolled my ankle, fallen, skinned my knee, cut my fingers on pans about 3 times, burned my fingers on a sterno, endured a nice sunburn, and stubbed my toes in the pool. My goal for Friday at this point is to not be injured, or at least not run into that fridge.

This picture doesn't even really do the scrapes and bruises justice. Trust me though, they look pretty hardcore!

We left from Waterloo around 3:50 and headed on our ride into Tripoli (which by the way is pronounced Trip-poll-ah, much like how some people say Missoura instead of Missouri). It was already raining and we were prepared for another bad business day, but we were determined to arrive early and make the most of it. Six miles out from our destination at 4:45 am, as the last car in our caravan made a corner, another car rear ended the Highlander. It hit the left rear corner and spun our car 180 degrees. Myself, Meg, Heather, and Nate were all in the car at the time of the accident but every single one of us walked away without major injury. My elbow looked like it had carpet burn and Meg developed a baseball sized bruise on her lower back. You may think that we were crazy to move on and continue with set up that day, but I think everyone just wanted to redeem the morning. Rain or not- and there was plenty of it, we were going to finish strong. The car accident is a whole other blog post for another time, but it was certainly relevant here, and vital to the telling of this particular story. When our car finally arrived in Tripoli, it was around 5:30 again. We waited around for 30 or 45 minutes for the rain to decide what it was doing, and finally we set up shop. From 7:30-10:30, we were poured on. We had many customers, which honestly surprised me, and we had wet everything. At 11, we had most everything torn down and we all looked like drowned rats, but here's the best part: despite my car accident I did not run into that fridge at all on Friday. In fact, I wasn't injured by anything related to our actual business. I'm going to go ahead and call that a win.

We headed out at noon, and made it back to Des Moines around 4:30. Aside from the car accident, which I could have done without, I had a great week. I really did. The early mornings, the aches and pains, the long hours on my feet. It was all worth it for the people I met and the memories I made. I will remember the night we played softball and the night we went bowling. I will remember meeting Dallas Clark. I will remember all of the goofy jokes and sarcastic comments we made to each other on four hours of sleep. I will remember rolling our eyes and laughing at customers or vendors that got a little high and mighty, That's how I know that I'm a people person. When I can come out of the other side of a week like this past one and know that forgetting all of the bad things means forgetting all of the memories made. It truly is amazing how well people can get along when you share the common theme of sleep deprivation.

I know this post was long, but I wanted to write it down before I forgot. It was already starting to fade and blur, and my first Ragbrai with Breakfast Delights should at least be noted, if not held dear.

Obviously, this one includes some of the pictures from above, but I made this Thursday night as a small tribute to the little things I had gathered and thought noteworthy throughout the week.

The Forest

"Well don't worry about the whole forest right now. Focus on the few tress you have in front of you that you have to cut down right now. Some of those trees will fall and knock down others, and pretty soon you'll have reached the other side, but right now focus on the ones in front of you. If you look at the whole forest, it'll seem impossible."

For a while now I've been having a hard time with school. I've felt as though I'm wasting my time and money and just doing thing thing that was expected of me. I'm still struggling with some of that, mostly the part about not having a purpose for being in school. This period of time was supposed to be something where I discovered what I loved and I learned how to do it better, and instead college has become quite a burden for me. As I am looking to my junior year at Iowa State, I have a lot that I need to get done in this coming year. Some things are commitments I made that I just need to suck it up and get through, and some will affect my schooling in the couple years I have to go. All of it seems so overwhelming. I know that this year is going to be busy from beginning to end and I know that I am going to have little time for myself.

As I was expressing these worries to my dad, he stopped me and presented me with the above analogy. I thought it was pretty great and it did a lot to comfort me. He was right- if I look at the whole forest (the next two or maybe even 2.5 years) it's going to seem impossible to conquer, but if I take it all one day, one tree, at a time I'll get through it. And some trees will knock down others, things will fall into place where I didn't expect them to and take care of other obstacles or open new doors.

Everything will work itself out.

And isn't that something that I've been taught about God since the beginning? He is in control. Everything happens according to His plan. God knew the choices I would make that would lead me here and He knows the choices I will make that will get me to the other side of this obstacle that seems so huge just now.

Wishes

You know that question that you'll sometimes get asked that goes "if you could change one thing, what would you change?" You're supposed to answer that you're totally fine with everything that's happened in your life and that you wouldn't change anything. But I would change something, and it's probably not what you would expect.

Maybe you'd think that I would change the summer of the flood so that I wouldn't lose my house and belongings. But no.
Perhaps you'd guess that I would use the last days with my grandparents to ask them all of the things I wish I could ask now. That's not it either.
You could even suppose that I would go back and change this past year at school, the decisions I made and the depression and separation that fell upon me. Again, you'd be wrong but you would be getting closer.

I would change my actions and choices that led up to my decision to go to Iowa State.

You surprised?

Thinking about my senior year, I remember that everything was so rushed, and everything went by in such a blur. I know that I went on college visits and I know I applied to a handful of state-based schools, but I also know that I didn't try very hard. That's where I'd start. I'd explore options from all over the country. And maybe I'd still end up in Iowa, but at least I'd feel like I didn't limit myself to one state. Maybe I wouldn't feel so stuck here. I'd also listen to my gut. When my college search started, I had only a couple criteria in mind. I wanted a Christian school to grow my faith at, and I wanted it to be smaller. I remember I somehow got a mailer for Dordt College and I wasn't sure how they found me, but I was excited. They seemed perfect, and when I went for a visit, I fell in love. The campus was beautiful and small. All of the buildings were on one central square. The dorms and apartments were nice, and the welcoming attitude was encouraging. Everything that I experienced there was exactly how I wished it would be. So why didn't I go, if it was so perfect? I wish I could tell you that there was a big long list of cons, but in honesty, it came down to one- the cost. They are a private college, so they were almost twice the cost of a state school. One decision that I would change however was the choice to not verify my FAFSA with them. For whatever reason they wanted a little extra documentation and I set the notice aside and forgot about it until it was too late. One stupid choice led to a major outcome.

It's hard for me to sit here and not feel like I missed my boat. I wonder what my first two years of school would have been like if I had gone to the small Christian college that I had dreamed of instead of the public school where my class alone was more than 6,000 people. I think about the choices that I wouldn't have made because I wasn't even around the people who led me to making them. I think about all of the loneliness and the anger. The emptiness inside for a lack of purpose, the jumping from major to major and never feeling at home. Would I have found my path at Dordt?

I do think about the friends that I have made. I think about Salt Company and how great it almost always is for me. I think about the great experiences I've had there, but somehow those adventures don't outweigh the "what if?" feeling for me.

The worst part is that now I'm halfway through. I can't go forward and I can't go back. I have made binding decisions. I've committed to an apartment and a sorority. I have settled on a major- hopefully- and a schedule. And it's not to say that I'm not excited about any of those things, I just feel as though I don't belong there. My heart seems to be elsewhere, but I don't know where.  I'm stuck here.

Be More Heart, and Less Attack

As a follow up to my post last night I wanted to share some new thoughts.

I took the chance to listen to the album Rivers in the Wasteland again today. Start to finish. After hearing Bear talk about the struggles they've been through over the past year, it was obvious to me that every song was raw with emotion. Every song and every lyric held meaning and healing and lessons learned.

I didn't think it was possible to be this much in love with some songs or some band. I can feel their pain and their struggles. I have a newfound respect for these guys. I have loved them since I saw them for the first time at People's Court in 2009, but now after seeing them last night and watching their documentary about their rough times, something is different. The air between them was tangibly different on stage last night. They had a chemistry that I hadn't seen for a long time.

The song Brother holds a new meaning. Before they played it last night Bear said that it was a love song that Bo had written for him. Listening to the lyrics bring me to tears.

“Brother, let me be your shelter. I’ll never leave you all alone. I can be the one you call when you’re low.
Brother let me be your fortress when the night winds are driving home. Be the one to light the way, bring you home.”

Wasteland. Difference Maker. Rise Again. The Heart. More Heart, Less Attack.
All of these songs are so full of meaning and restoration.
I am encouraged. I am joyful.
When I said last night that it felt like some knew what I had been going through, I believe even more now that that is true. Sure, Bear doesn’t know who I am. He doesn’t know what I’ve been through. I get that. But I saw in his eyes what mine must have looked like for so long. I saw longing and pain, but I saw freedom and joy too.

"Slow to anger, quick to laugh. Be more heart, and less attack."

These guys and their music have saved me more than once and this time I think God is working through them to work on my heart. I almost didn't go to the concert last night but I did. And I'm so glad. And I know I was supposed to be there. My heart is full and I feel content.

Oh, Carolina

I left tonight's concert feeling better than I have in weeks. I feel fresh, new, rejuvenated. I almost feel- dare I say it- joyful! NeedToBreathe has been a band in my life for the last 6 years or so. In that time I have been to 5, now 6 concerts. I know nearly every song and EP that they have released. It's safe to say I'm a huge fan. I would even go as far as saying that they are my favorite band. The previous times I've seen them in concert have all been great, but this concert felt different. There was a different air about the boys tonight. Bear Rinehart- the lead singer, shared tonight about some very personal issues that he and his brother Bo had been having. The willingness to be open with a crowd of strangers was uplifting. And the true passion and love I heard in their voices when they sang Washed By the Water or Brother or Wasteland were all inspiring. These boys were serious tonight. We had fun for sure, but they were playing for keeps.

At previous shows I have been closer than I was tonight and I have even made eye contact with various members on occasion. Tonight though, when I caught Bear's eye during Oh Carolina, it was different. Maybe it's been my year or maybe it's been theirs, but I felt as though someone was looking at me and they just knew what I had been going through. I know it sounds silly. I know it sounds like I've just got a crush on the guy. And sure, Bear's attractive- I'll admit that, but I'm getting at something else. This concert moved me. I fought back tears several times. I came away feeling full and refreshed for the first time in ages. 

These guys have saved me time and time again with their music and I'm glad I got to see them tonight. I'm so blessed to have their music in my life and I know without a doubt that their words will remain with me for a long time.

Saturday Nights

Sometimes on nights like tonight I will be out around 9 o'clock or so and I will just be driving and I'll think about what I wish I could be doing. I'll wish that I was a character in one of those movies where the teenagers just go drive around town and laugh and have fun. I'll wish that I could just drive and have no responsibilities, have an experience that was just about me and finding myself. Just see how far the road takes me. That I would even have someone to ride alongside with me. Be able to have someone sit next to me and laugh with them or talk to them.

This coming week I have five days off- Tuesday through Saturday. If I had my choice I would take those five days I would travel just a little bit. Maybe I'd drive up to Minnesota or over to Chicago. I could even make it to Colorado for a day or two. The more I stay here in Iowa, the more stir-crazy I become. I have seen so little of y world and it fills me with sorrow. I think of the beautiful God made mountains I saw last summer and I yearn to them again, and to discover whats on the other side of them. I've seen the big city of New York, but only a small portion. I love my home, but I have a need to see more. God created this world to be discovered. If I could do one thing with my life it would be to travel to as many places as I could. When I graduate, I wish that I could take a year or two and just explore my home country. Is it so bold of me to want to strike out on my own? To explore and rely upon myself?

I am restless and I have at least two more years before I can go anywhere or just do anything. 

Mistakes and Regrets

I want to make mistakes and have regrets.

Now you may be thinking to yourself "Okay, this girl really has gone off the deep end," but let me explain! I've been thinking a lot about getting a tattoo recently and I've been trying really hard to come up with meaningful ideas that go behind each one that I want to get. But then, yesterday I saw something that someone had posted and they said something along the lines of "Don't feel like every tattoo you get needs to have some deep backstory. If you think a tiger would look cool on your arm, get a tiger!" I'm getting my first tattoo with my best friend in June, and I've been back and forth over which one I want to get for a long time. I've settled with a couple on the insides of my ankles. They will be easy to hide and I figure if I get my first one in the most painful place, I'll be well prepared for more in the future. This first experience will likely be an indicator of whether or not I get more in the future. If I do, I have many ideas, and not all of them have stories or meaning. Some just look really neat. So I've been thinking don't get the ones that don't have meaning. Those are the ones you'll regret.

And then I saw what that person had to say, and I agreed. And then today, I realized that I want to make mistakes. I want to have regrets. Maybe I'll get every tattoo that I ever wanted and I'll love every single one. Or. Maybe I'll have one that I look at and just shake my head. But so what if I do? I think it would be almost better to have one I didn't like anymore so that when my kids come to me in the future, I can say "You can do what you want, but look at this and let me tell you how embarrassing this one is." Maybe that will make them think twice.

Obviously this is a very specific situation, but you really can apply the idea to anything. And I'm not saying that I want to actively seek out trouble and misfortune, but I don't want to be afraid of messing up. I don't want to hold back from doing something on the off chance that I'll be upset that I did it later. I want to make those mistakes and have those regrets so that I can use them as teaching moments in the future. I have done stuff these past 7 months that I didn't think I would do or would enjoy, and I want to use this time not to berate myself and dig myself into a deeper pit, but as a tool to prop myself up with and to say "This doesn't control me. This isn't who I am. It's something I've done and I can learn from this."

So yeah, I want to make mistakes and have regrets, and I encourage you to not look down upon yourself when you mess up or fall short, but "to realize two out of three ain't bad."

Edit: Just to be clear, these here are examples that I don't mean: http://imgur.com/gallery/uhjzW
I mean like a tiger tattoo that I don't like or the tattoo going out of style or it being a last minute choice. Don't worry, I'm not looking to get any face tattoos!

Storms

The only thing that I can write up right now that doesn't feel copied or fake. 

The sky was dark, heavily clouded with the impending storm. The wind was starting to pick up and I could smell the rain. Five minutes, tops before the downpour came. Standing where I am, the land spreads out before me like a quilt. I know where I have come from and I know where I am headed. I tip my head back, close my eyes, and allow the fresh air to wash over me. For the first time in a long time, I let my thoughts wander. The pain is almost overwhelming, but I can’t let go now. I can’t be seen with my guard down. The thunder rumbles deep above me and I can feel it in my bones. My eyes open and the rage of white-hot lightening cuts across the sky, reminding me of why I am here. The first few rain drops begin to hit the ground, washing away the memories of this place. I only know one thing- a storm is brewing. Not only out here on the hillside, but in my soul.

Divergent

I recently read the book and saw the movie Divergent. When I first saw the movie, before I read the book, the movie kind of threw me off for a couple of days. I realized something about myself.

The Hunger Games, Divergent, The Uglies, or any other rebellion-based story, they all feature young women who are ordinary. Who live in their world and accept the way things are, and by some random chance, they are thrown into the middle of some extraordinary circumstances and they morph into this brave and courageous heroine that saves the day and brings hope to everyone. I realized that that will never be me. I will never be a Katniss, or a Tris, or a Shea. I will always be that person in the background who gets trampled out. Who doesn't rise to be more that she thought she could be. I am the ordinary girl with no special talents. Those stories don't inspire be to be the best version of my self, they make me feel worse about who I am, realizing that I am not the heroine of my story.

I certainly would never be divergent, I would fit perfectly into one of the factions and I would follow along with the story just exactly how I was supposed to.

I'm aware that this is a highly depressing post. I think this is me coming to terms with my depression again and realizing how quickly and easy it overtakes. Maybe some time in the future I will have the confidence to write a post about how I won't be that girl who falls behind. How I will push on and force myself to be better that who I am now. But in this moment, I don't have the strength.

146 East Holcomb Avenue

I wanted to share some pictures of the house that I took a few weeks ago. I went and walked around the lot and tried to imagine everything. I think I had a fairly accurate picture for the most part.

As mentioned in the previous post, this is the tree carving my dad did for my mom. The tree was at the base of the steps for the back porch, the one leading to the patio.

The carving now, fairly grown over. If you didn't know
what to look for, you wouldn't see it.

The tree and patio before. The carving is much more
pronounced here. P.S. Notice the chicken in the tree.
That's a whole other story!

Here is nice before and after of the garden that my mom used to keep. The harden itself was a place I didn't really appreciate until it was gone. I could always find mom digging or planting or rearranging her various knick-knacks here. It was a respite for her I believe. I only wish I could have taken the time to slow down and see how relaxing it really was to be in the space.

Looking in at an angle. The carved tree is just out of frame on the far right. The tree straight ahead was somewhat of a "cornerstone" in that it marked a corner of the patio. The brown dead thing on the left was a trumpet vine- yet another story to be told!

What a drastic change! Straight ahead you can see the same "cornerstone" tree as in the picture above, for reference.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing pictures of the garden. It's peaceful to see them even now. I have more pictures of the lot, but not many to compare with. I'll do some digging this summer to find some more reference pictures. To finish out, here's a final picture, the house looking in from the street.

"Before" picture photo credit goes to my mom, from her blog and website: www.paintedpiglet.com

If you want to read the post about the house, just search "garden" and the post is titled "Patio Garden memories." Mom tends to have a better way with words than I do!

Depression is Easy

It's interesting to me how raw and fresh the memories of the summer of 2008 are. You would think that several years later I could think about it and not feel like everything had happened only days ago. This summer will be 6 years, so not a big milestone or anything, but it still stands out to me I guess.

Last night I was thinking of a very clear memory I had of the house. I think it had to have been the summer before the flood, because in the memory my room was painted blue, and I only had those walls for about a year. My family has gone to the GoodGuys car show every year since it has come to Iowa, and the summer of '07 was no different. We either had the red '57 Chevy at that time or the big Ford, I can't remember. I do remember coming home after a long, hot Saturday at the show. The air in the house was on and I can feel the cool blast of air on my skin as the door opened, and almost smell the specific scent that the air conditioner gave the house. I went straight to my room and laid down on my mattress which happened to be on the floor at the time; I was in-between bed frames. On my stomach with my face close to the air vent I took a nap. I'm not sure why this one memory sticks out in my mind, maybe just because it took place during the summer. Fast-forward roughly one year and you would find me sitting at the top of the three steps that led down to my parents bedroom. The floor had been stripped, so I was sitting on bare wood and was staring at studs and framing all around me. Where once had stood my home was now just an empty shell. I remember a group of family and friends were standing a little in front of me marveling at the fact that some three or four layers of wall paper had survived not one, but three floods. As I sat on the steps, I think for the first time the gravity of the situation hit me. I was picking at remnants of drywall and throwing them on the floor when my brother-in-law came over to me. Before the flood, before that summer, Wade had been just my sister's husband, but that summer he became my brother. I don't remember what he said to me but I know that it helped. Another defining memory.

I try to be thankful for the home we have now. We have been blessed in so many ways. But all I have to do is close my eyes and I can see the house. I can see the driveway where I fell the first time I rode a bike. I can see the front yard where we had several garage sales. I can see the garden that my mother nurtured and that flourished every spring and summer. I can see the patio where we would have family dinners when the weather was nice. I remember the time an entire meal was ruined because of some birds flying over. I see the blue kitchen and the pale yellow dining room. I see our western themed bathroom and my jungle themed bedroom. I see all of the good times and all of my memories. And then I drive past the empty lot and my heart breaks inside. I know where the house stood down to the last room, but anyone who drives by will only see grass and some trees. I know exactly where the carving is on the tree that was next to the patio, and anyone else who should happen upon that tree wouldn't see it. No one knows that lives were lived there and that memories were made. Not just mine, but from the father's childhood too. I wonder how many people who used to drive by the house see the emptiness now and can't remember what color that house on the corner was- blue. No one will know, no one will remember.

And that's why I think depression is easy. It's comfortable. It's easy to fall into the darkness and not fight every day. It's hard to work against the pull but it's easy to sink into the darkness and let it overwhelm you. I can't remember how to be happy. It's a thing that I have to fight to be. I have to try to be happy and joyful. Thinking about the house is easy. It's comfortable to think of the memories. It's difficult to remember the situation for what it was and to realize that what happened was far better for my family than many other options.

Unnecessary Fears

Ever since I saw the movie Final Destination 3, my life has been overshadowed with the threat of everyday things trying to kill me. From waiting in line at the drive-thru to lifting weights at the gym, my day to day has been plagued with the thought of dying in very inconvenient ways.

Okay, so maybe I'm over exaggerating a tad, but that doesn't mean that it didn't take me 4 months to convince myself I wasn't going to die on the Dragon rollercoaster at Adventureland just because it had loops. I have since been able to sit fairly patiently in drive-thru lines, and I have in fact been able to go back to the gym, and today I officially overcame the biggest fear that the movie instilled in me- no joking this time.

This sucker right here has been the one thing I was absolutely terrified of. If you don't know why the scene from the movie freaked me out so much, go ahead and YouTube it- but watch at your own risk. It's pretty gruesome. Now, I know that there are legitimate risks to using tanning beds, and it's certainly not something that I recommend using very often. However, I have some of the whitest skin around and when summer rolls around, there's always that period of time where I blind everyone- including myself- with my legs and arms. My roommate had never tried tanning before, and obviously neither had I, but she wanted to. I intended to go as moral support, but ultimately decided it was silly to be so afraid of a machine. So, I bit the bullet today and I spent 7 minutes in a low-pressure tanning bed. 

Woo. I did it. Go me.

Or something like that. I almost feel guilty to be honest, but in all honesty, one session is not going to kill me. I do not intend to spend more time in a bed that in the real outdoors, ad I certainly don't want to get caught up in a a habit that can cause serious damage. Trust me y'all, I'm not going to become one of those shriveled up bodies that looks 40 when I'm only 21. 

Moral of the story: don't let horror movies keep you from doing things. Don't let ANYTHING stop you from doing something you'd like to try. Overcome the fears and LIVE. Be happy! 

Next on my list: skydiving! Er...or maybe I should just climb the rockwall without freaking out first.

A Trip to the Zoo

I visited the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha, Nebraska today and I left feeling discouraged. I expected to go and have this great experience. I was excited to see the animals and to revisit a zoo I have only been to one other time in my life. Not to mention, this was going to be my first solo road trip. The trip itself went fine, no trouble, but while at the zoo I can't say that I had the best time. Maybe it was because I was by myself, I'm not sure. I can't shake the feeling though that I am disappointed in my experience today.

The thing that bugged me first and foremost was the lack of space that the big cats had. They each had a small indoor and outdoor enclosure, but it wasn't even remotely enough room to run around in. At least the Blank Park Zoo seems to accomplish that. Several of the cats were pacing and panting, signs of distress, and that didn't do much to boost my spirits. If it's one animal that I love to watch, it's the big cats, but seeing them upset is not how I want to observe them.

Another thing that got to me was the fact that I saw several keepers today, but not a single one looked happy to be doing their job. From my standpoint, I feel like I would be excited to work at a zoo, if I'm shoveling snow for the penguins or poop for the armadillos. I guess it was disheartening to see people in the position that I wanted to hold not enjoying themselves. And sure, I know not every day is going to be a good day, but of the 8 or so keepers I saw, not a single one looked to be in a good mood.

So now I'm home and I'm contemplating my choices again. I expected the zoo trip to set in stone one way or another- Yes, I absolutely want to do that for the rest of my life, or No way, that's definitely not for me and instead I've found myself stuck in the middle. I'm getting fed up with not having found a passion for something. Isn't that what college is for? "To find what you love to do and do it so well that someone pays you to do it." I don't know what I love to do! I thought I loved to work with children, I thought I loved to work with families, I thought I loved to work with animals. None of it seems to fit right. The science track is so hard for me that I wonder if I've even chosen the right path to take.

I sit here and I want to work with animals. I don't want to observe them or just be in their presence, I want to work with them. I want to train, feed, breed, and care for them. I've considered the vet career before, but not only is that at least 6 more years of school from this point, I think it's an unattainable goal for me. Like I said before, the science track is already so hard for me, and it would only be even more of that. On top of doing well in my classes, I would need recommendations and a good score on the GRE exam. These are things that I just don't feel are within my grasp. Maybe I'm not believing in myself enough, I don't know.

I do know that I need to make a decision pretty soon. I'm in the final weeks of my spring semester of my second year. Major changes after this point are going to add years to my schooling, if they haven't already. Just an example- if I chose to pursue the vet career, I have to receive a C or higher in the required classes for them to count towards my application. I can probably pull a C in the bio class I'm taking now, but if it's even a C-, I would have to retake the entire course and lab for it to count. That could set me back an entire semester or even a year if I struggle with enough classes. It's discouraging.

I'm not saying that I want to be a vet. I mean, I do. I have wanted to since I was a young girl, but I'm worried to make another snap decision. I'm nervous to even consider a career path that would involve even more hard work, time, and expenses.

"Well if you want something bad enough, you're going to have to just buckle down and push through." Yeah, I get that. Problem is, I don't know what I'm so passionate about that I will find the determination to push through for.

That Albatross Around My Neck

"Free to struggle, but not struggling to be free"- Tenth Avenue North; The Struggle

I had coffee with Sara today, and after my session with my counselor yesterday, I was worried about the conversation we would have. Yesterday, I think I discovered the core of my struggles: I've been doubting whether or not any of what I have believed or lived for the last 4 years has been true at all. I had not admitted out loud that doubt until yesterday, but it was there. From that initial doubt was the question of if I had ever been truly saved by God. If nothing about God was true, then that question was irrelevant, but if God was real, had I never truly been His child? Had I just been riding waves of everyone else's salvation?

I was hesitant to share with Sara these doubts. I knew that she had been there for me through this rough semester and I didn't want her to know that I had come so far from Jesus. I didn't want anyone to really know that I have actually been doubting my faith. I can only imagine the disappointment when people that have known me for years find out that I have fallen so far. One of my biggest fears related to my doubts has been that I am alone in this struggle. I have known others to struggle here and there, but I don't personally know anyone who has gone through months of no desire or motivation to seek God. I have felt literally as if I am the only one to struggle in this way. I have had no one to tell me that they came out the other side just fine. I have had no one to understand me. At least not that I was aware of or realizing.

Sara shared with me the depression she has experienced and she shared with me that she had doubted her own salvation as well as the existence of God. I wasn't alone. She told me that despite my lack of motivation, my desire to want to desire God showed her that I had truly tasted the goodness of Jesus at least once in my life. It's hard for me to see this from the inside, because all I see are my emotions and the way they don't match up to my actions. All I can see is the heavy psychological weight I have around my shoulders of all the guilt, anger, and sadness I have accumulated over the past 6 months. As someone from the outside looking in however, Sara says that she has never doubted my salvation.

She quoted the Tenth Avenue North song to me and she told me that no matter what, God will always chase after my heart. She encouraged me to pray no matter how silly I feel or no matter how insincere it may seem. To scream it, yell it, or cry it out. To tell God what I think and ask for what I need. She encouraged me to read my Bible, to read anything. To just put myself in a situation where I am around God. She told me that instead of sitting around and waiting for an emotion or waiting for that dark cloud to part, that I should seek God. That even if it didn't feel real and even if it was the last thing I wanted to do, to do it anyway. To ask God to help my unbelief. This advice reminded me of what my counselor asked me to consider last week: what actions can I take to change the outcomes that I have come to expect? If I am sitting around expecting God to appear, but also believing that He won't, I'm setting myself up for failure. So why not take action? Even if I don't want to seek Him, maybe taking action is the way to change my outcomes.

So I think I'm going to try it. I am truly scared that I will find nothing, but while I am struggling with my belief, the voice that says there is hope, there is truth is a little louder than the other. I want to find Jesus again. I want to find eternal joy in Him, and maybe this conversation with Sara today was Heaven-sent. Maybe I needed to hear her words that would spur me in the right direction.

"So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light."- Mumford & Sons; Ghosts That We Knew

The Weight of Living

"There's an albatross around your neck.

All the things you've said,

All the things you've done.

Can you carry it with no regrets?

Can you stand the person you've become?"

 

 

Albatross: a seemingly inescapable moral or emotional burden, as of guilt or responsibility.

I think we got to the core of it today. There's a lot of doubt in my life since I have rebelled against what I knew. Along with that is the doubt that it's ever been real. That it is real at all. I'm not sure if these doubts came from the rebellion or if they were deep inside the whole time, but I'm hoping to get to the bottom of it and to decide what I really believe.



What You Are

I heard a friend make a comment the other day that really made me sad for her and myself and all of the women who are constantly bombarded by images of what we "should" be.

Talking to my counselor the other day, she mentioned to me that the word "should" introduced the idea that there is blame. To say "I should have..." puts blame on yourself for things that may have been out of your control.

So with that thought in the back of my mind, I think I reacted a little differently when I heard my friend say "I'm looking at these clothes and realizing they are not the size they should be." To say this implied that she was somehow to blame for her size.

So here's what I want you to know, weather you're a woman or just someone who feels pressured by the "ideal" image:

WHAT YOU ARE IS BEAUTIFUL.
Period. That's it.
You have been perfectly made, perfectly shaped into who you are and you are not at fault.

The magazines and the TV shows, they don't portray women as they are. They will show you 100 bad sides of yourself before they show you one positive thing. They will tell you you're too fat, too skinny, too tan, too pale, too tall, short, or any number of other things.
The truth is that YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.

I'm not saying that I don't struggle with negative thoughts about myself. On the contrary, I've struggled with myself quite a lot. I will admit that some mornings I wake up an I hate what I see in the mirror and I think some of you can relate. But why? Why have I decided that what I see is not good enough to be loved? I have bean fearfully and wonderfully made.

What I want you to know is that you shouldn't be anything but yourself. If you want to work out, awesome! If you want to eat healthier, great! But make those changes because you have decided that you want to. Don't jump on the next fad diet or almost kill yourself exercising because you feel like you should look some certain way.

Please, please don't let your self worth come from what others tell you to be.
And learn to know that you are beautiful, you are exactly how you are supposed to be.
If you have to write it on a sticky note to read daily, or if you have to remind yourself every hour with an inspirational quote, do that, because ultimately, you deserve to love yourself and to make it through each day with your head held high.

Friend of mine, this is for you. I love you and I want you to know that I am here for you always. You inspire me with your kindness and your sweet heart and I want you to be proud and joyful in yourself.

Going Big

I'm going to push through this semester and I'm going to take control of my choices. Things aren't just going to happen to me anymore. I'm going to change my actions to change the outcomes.

No more negative self-fulfilling prophecies.

I know I'll mess up and make mistakes, but I need to escape this tunnel. I need to get away from the self-pity and the darkness.

So here we go. Action plan. I'm having my best friend change passwords to Facebook, Twitter, Imgur, and Tumblr. I'm deactivating my Netflix. I'm deleting the apps from my phone. The only things I'll keep are Instagram for my 100 Happy Days challenge and this blog. The social media has been a huge distraction and a refuge, but no more. I'm going to use what I leave myself with for good, positive interactions.

Go big or go home.

Moving

I would like to move far far away some day. Across the country or maybe to another continent completely. Just so that I can be completely alone. No one will know me or my story, and I can start from scratch. I can make new friends, make new memories, have new adventures and then *I* can decide when I leave. The people I've met and come to care about won't up and disappear. For once I'll be the one who chooses when it's over and when I move on. I'd like to be far away from the places that constantly remind me of what I've lost and what I've been through. I really need a break from this constant cycle. I need to break out of this endless circle of the same tasks over and over again. I'd just like to move, and keep moving, and travel and explore and have the chance to do my own thing. Rely completely on myself to get by. I want to learn the hard way and have stories to tell when I get back. I want to be rejuvenated and I want to feel alive, because really, I only feel empty.

Someone Tell Me

Someone should tell me where an entire year has gone. 12 months ago today, I broke up with my boyfriend of 3 years and I'm not sure exactly how a whole year got away from me.

One minute, I knew who I was, and the next I'm here. I'm lost, confused, and worried I'll never find my way back.
"I don't even know myself at all..."

I've been doubting my salvation lately, wondering if the feelings I have experienced over the last 4 years have only been buoyed along by what's been going on around me. I've fallen so far off the path that I don't know anyone who has struggled for this long anymore.

It's just me. Out here alone on open water with no shore behind me and no foreseeable land ahead.
"Sometimes I feel just like a sailboat. Don't know where I'm headed..."

It's scary to think that 12 months, 365 days have passed me by. That each one was filled with activities and memories, up and downs. It's even scarier to think that at least 5 of those months have been spent in rebellion and under the cover of depression.

Talking with my counselor today was helpful I think. Each time I leave, it feels like I have a little less weight on my shoulders as I did when I walked in. We talked about the old home today and the flood. We talked about the idea that I want to go back to that time when I was at the house because I felt safe and protected there, and I want to feel that way again. We also tied in the idea that losing my faith has left a large hole in who I am and who I have identified with. I'm lost without it and I no longer feel protected and safe where I am. I feel open and exposed; as if I'll lose everything at any moment. With God, I knew that I was under His care. Now I don't know if I still do or if I'm on my own.

I want to believe that this is just one long rocky road. That at the end, I'll be able to look back and say "Yeah, that was crazy. It was hard and lonesome and scary. But I made it through and I'm better for it." I want to believe that God has known from the start that I would go through this and that He knows the beginning and the end of it. I want to go back to when I was content in the Lord.

But sitting here, I don't know if that was ever the Truth for me. Was I just parroting what I heard? If it was real for me, why was reading and praying consistently such a battle for four years? Wouldn't I learn to strive after God by that time? Why would I go through baptism or on those missions trips if I didn't really believe? And what about that certain feeling in my gut when I knew that I needed to end my 3 year relationship? Wasn't that God working in my heart?

Here's my conclusion, one that I'm sure I've said over and over in the past few months: I want to be free and joyful in God, but I don't know how anymore.

Another thing I learned about myself today is that I have achieved several self-fulfilling prophecies by the way that I act. Building on that, I'm wondering if my depressed behavior has become such a habit, that it would be as simple as acting in a different way. If I stop thinking that tomorrow will be just another difficult day, and instead I determine to set my mind to positive things and positive outcomes, perhaps I can see a positive change. It's hard for me to see if the depression is caused by the lack of my faith or vice-versa, but I have a feeling it's all connected, and to work on one aspect will make the other a little better as well.

So that's how I'm going through today, thinking about how I might change my actions to create different outcomes. How I might act differently so as to not make those negative self-fulfilling prophecies come true.

Short Story Time!

So I posted a little story earlier, but I have made some pretty significant changes. I've decided to start a new blog just for my little writings, and you can find the link here! I hope that you'll follow up on the story, because I am pretty proud of it! Enjoy lovelies!