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Since I'm finally writing again, I'm proud to say that this book is what The Four Letter Word would have been like if Nat had acted out more homicidally than suicidally. Hannah Ryan resembles Nat in almost no way in lifestyle, because she and her mom are extremely close and call one another every day once Hannah goes away for her freshman year of college. But they share something in personality that people always seem to miss about my characters: they're both artistic and reasonable/logical at the same time. Everyone who loves Nat does seem to forget that he excels at mathematics as much as he does writing; but I assure you, it won't be missed with Hannah, who hasn't written anything creatively in two years, and is on the pre-med track in school with a Microbiology major and who constantly reminds herself of these two distinct sides.
Because I can't really ever stray from crime too far, Hannah doesn't tag. She doesn't help steal or bully people. She plots and executes (? or does she, I can't give it away) the murder of eight individuals her first year at college. What I like about this book is that while both characters are reeling from events that occurred before the book begins, Nat's abuse is hidden until halfway through the book, when it becomes more apparent what he doesn't want to remember. Hannah deals with her abuse head-on (you could say viciously) and from the first chapter it's obvious (and just expands on it later). Hannah deals with what it means to move away from a loving family and some loving friends, and to lose people during abuse and during the natural process of transitioning to college. Like Nat, Hannah has dealt with, for years, what it means to blame abuse on yourself, and now she's in the process of realizing it isn't her fault.
Even though it explores the darker side of humanity, I expect there to be a lot of laughs and love here too. As happens during a freshman year, Hannah loses friends and gains new ones, namely Kieran, who she meets in support group and decides to murder people with. I have a sort of love affair with partners in crime, obviously, it's kind of my thing. As Kieran is a sophomore already, he introduces Hannah to his "group;" partially as a cover, so that she doesn't come across as a loner, doesn't-hang-posters stereotype to be singled out for the murders, and partially because he really does care about his friends, who don't know everything about him, and he thinks she will too. They're silly and loving, in a way reminiscent of Nat's friends, but there's a new layer here to the abuse story that I didn't work with so much with Nat. It's about learning to hate, and to blame, but to move on, and about how much Hannah and Kieran are unable to separate things that remind them of their abuser(s), people with whom they both had close relationships. And I think the biggest, and best question, really is whether or not it is good to hate, and whether anyone "deserves" to die.
I think my favorite part of these kinds of books are how there is no answer. It interests me how often, in "real life," people will say contradictory things depending. When it's domestic abuse between spouses or unmarried significant others especially, people tell the person to erase this abuser from their life, as well as when it is rape committed by someone the person knows. But when it is abuse, sexual or otherwise, from a family member, people are still undoubtedly going to say those things, but it is much easier to come across the message that you should just forgive family and try to keep them in your life. It really is an interesting message, and one that I think about from time to time. The people who hurt us most are almost always those who we care about most--those people have the most power to, after all. It reminds me of how John Green says "What a treacherous thing to believe a person is more than a person," in Paper Towns, which is something that is echoed in Looking for Alaska too (or should I say echoed in Paper Towns because Alaska came first?) and it's so true. We make people out to be often one thing or another, whether it's with complete love or complete hate, and it is often more complicated than that, and each person is a person. I tried to talk about this in The Four Letter Word too; Nat's abuser is a person, too, and all the people surrounding the situation who made the abuse possible and made it worse are people too. I'm really interested to see how Hannah and Kieran will deal with this, as they grow and develop personalities of their own.
Because I can't really ever stray from crime too far, Hannah doesn't tag. She doesn't help steal or bully people. She plots and executes (? or does she, I can't give it away) the murder of eight individuals her first year at college. What I like about this book is that while both characters are reeling from events that occurred before the book begins, Nat's abuse is hidden until halfway through the book, when it becomes more apparent what he doesn't want to remember. Hannah deals with her abuse head-on (you could say viciously) and from the first chapter it's obvious (and just expands on it later). Hannah deals with what it means to move away from a loving family and some loving friends, and to lose people during abuse and during the natural process of transitioning to college. Like Nat, Hannah has dealt with, for years, what it means to blame abuse on yourself, and now she's in the process of realizing it isn't her fault.
Even though it explores the darker side of humanity, I expect there to be a lot of laughs and love here too. As happens during a freshman year, Hannah loses friends and gains new ones, namely Kieran, who she meets in support group and decides to murder people with. I have a sort of love affair with partners in crime, obviously, it's kind of my thing. As Kieran is a sophomore already, he introduces Hannah to his "group;" partially as a cover, so that she doesn't come across as a loner, doesn't-hang-posters stereotype to be singled out for the murders, and partially because he really does care about his friends, who don't know everything about him, and he thinks she will too. They're silly and loving, in a way reminiscent of Nat's friends, but there's a new layer here to the abuse story that I didn't work with so much with Nat. It's about learning to hate, and to blame, but to move on, and about how much Hannah and Kieran are unable to separate things that remind them of their abuser(s), people with whom they both had close relationships. And I think the biggest, and best question, really is whether or not it is good to hate, and whether anyone "deserves" to die.
I think my favorite part of these kinds of books are how there is no answer. It interests me how often, in "real life," people will say contradictory things depending. When it's domestic abuse between spouses or unmarried significant others especially, people tell the person to erase this abuser from their life, as well as when it is rape committed by someone the person knows. But when it is abuse, sexual or otherwise, from a family member, people are still undoubtedly going to say those things, but it is much easier to come across the message that you should just forgive family and try to keep them in your life. It really is an interesting message, and one that I think about from time to time. The people who hurt us most are almost always those who we care about most--those people have the most power to, after all. It reminds me of how John Green says "What a treacherous thing to believe a person is more than a person," in Paper Towns, which is something that is echoed in Looking for Alaska too (or should I say echoed in Paper Towns because Alaska came first?) and it's so true. We make people out to be often one thing or another, whether it's with complete love or complete hate, and it is often more complicated than that, and each person is a person. I tried to talk about this in The Four Letter Word too; Nat's abuser is a person, too, and all the people surrounding the situation who made the abuse possible and made it worse are people too. I'm really interested to see how Hannah and Kieran will deal with this, as they grow and develop personalities of their own.
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Post-Christmas Winter Things
11 min read
Since we just got through my favorite time of the year, it's a good time for lots of updates. What we're dealing with here, my friends, is actually a classic case of what they called "adulthood." It's exactly what you worry will happen when you're a kid, actually: that you'll turn into the kind of person who swears, drinks alcohol, does drugs, has sex/a relationship, hates life, and is boring and only cares about work and not fun. This is what every kid imagines when they're young; I know I was in a deep hatred of even teenagers never mind adults when I was 12 and younger.
But it's not that we all universally get swept up in those things, necessarily, although many of us do at least in a couple categories, or our friends do. It's more that life happens, in the simplest terms. We don't really change in our core, at least not in my opinion so far, and not in the opinion of several wise adults. What happens is that different facets of us are brought into light by things that happen.
In so many ways, 2012 has been the best year for me in so many years. This year has been both reconciliation and total destruction. But for the most part, what was reconciled was positive relationships and what was destroyed was negative connections. A few things were lost along the way, like Mary, Auntie Jody, Nannie, and Great Grammie (although after reaching 100, I think Grammie had a long and happy life, and that one isn't really a sad death like the others). Again this year I had to deal with what I call the consequences of new friends. It happens basically any time you make a decent-sized amount of completely new friends. You form a "group" of people who are all friends, everyone is happy to get to know a bunch of new people, except for the few who already know each other, who are almost always sick of each other (it's like they chose to shed each other as soon as new people are available!), and then between a half year and a year and a half of knowing each other, you start losing people. There's always a person or two you didn't really even like and were just constantly annoyed with, but were too nice to drop (an affliction I can never shake and probably never will). There's always someone who is just rotten and likes to stir up drama, but everyone likes them for some fucking reason, so you've got to wait patiently until they smarten up or get the balls to drop them like you have (or want to in your heart). It's really sad that people always fall into these, but it just happens no matter what within a big group. What you're left with, however, is a solid group of really amazing friends, who just might be friends for life.
The best thing this year has been, simultaneously, the strengthening of some relationships and the ending of others. One thing I've known since my mom's death is that beautiful things come out of ugly things, every time, even if it takes a long time to realize. Usually, when something terrible happens, my first thought it just how to get the person back, whether that means revenge or trying to literally bring them back into my life. It isn't until I'm not looking anymore that I see whatever good has come out of it. Quite a few times in Fall semester I found myself thinking about how different life would be if I had just talked to Desiree and Christine freshman year of high school like I wanted to--even started to, but then backed off. They were such good friends to me, and such an integral part of my daily life as we took two classes all together (which was actually very unplanned), as they were junior and senior year too. But it found me wishing I had them in early high school, what it would have been like if I had reached out to them and had them become part of that initial group, if I had Desiree coming over to sleepover on weekends and holidays and listening to me complain about my unrequited love for Seth. I had a breakdown in a mall in November, and I was crying and she was the only person there to see it, and in that way, I was mourning for all the things that never were as well as the things that actually were.
As well as all the relationships I already have had with people for years, like my dad, Seth, Desiree, Christine, Emma, Naomi, Nicole, Kristen, and Jess, being strengthened, newer relationships became real as well. I think relationships between people become real at a certain point, a point that isn't always clearly definable, when you realize that you're comfortable with them enough to want to be your honest self. It happens after a certain amount of not just being with each other and getting to know each other, but also going "through" things together, and seeing your strengths with them. I'm at that point now, with my closest friends from college, Krista, Katie, Jon, and Julia. And it feels good. It feels even better than high school in some ways, because there were so many people that I could see would just fade when they got the chance. And I'm at a place now where things are so much better for me in my relationships with people. I can actually relate to Julia and understand when she says that people are trying to make too much room in their lives for each other, to the point where they're squeezed in when they shouldn't be and that people need to be able to do something they want to do without everyone inviting themself. And I couldn't agree more. I'm surprised to say it, as a person who came from such an opposite position, but my ability to be jealous is almost virtually gone. It has been for a long time. I don't want to cram people in and make them feel suffocated, the way that Mary felt when we were friends for a long time. I want to see people, and love them, and appreciate them as people. I finally have the kind of friendship I haven't made in a long time, with Krista. We're asked if we're twins when we're shopping at the mall, we take cutesy photos, we sing Good Charlotte together, we have long three-am conversations with Seth in which she becomes angry with us and strangles us and drags our dead corpses back into the building. And that isn't to say I don't have a relationship I've always wanted to have with Jon, Katie and Julia, too, because I do, perfectly. Especially because Jon is one of my only ever actual GAY friends. I love gay friends. The best part is that I don't love him because he's gay, since I didn't know when we became friends, because usually I tend to try to like someone if they're gay, just because I'm so lacking in that aspect of friendship. We have almost the exact same sense of humor, which is exactly why we started being friends, because the first night we hung out, we teamed up to sabotage a group board game together and we laughed the entire time. Probably one of the hardest things for someone to be the same as me on is my sense of humor, because it's really fucking weird, so that's perfect.
It just feels really great to have these set of people who know me, who I'm now comfortable sharing seriousness with, and who I can just love. I want the same thing for everyone in my life, which I see with most people, including Naomi, who barely just started college but is perfect soul mates with her roommate. And for the people who are struggling through that losing people phase, like Desiree, I can only hope will make it out with those who matter afterward. It's been a rough year for some of my friends and family as well, but I want to be there for them the way they have for me. It's not always advice, it's not always cramming the person into every corner of my life. It's just showing them that I'm here.
As well, there have been changes to my personal self. I'm pursuing the dream to be a forensic pathologist, which is a long path that involves extra schooling, but I love schooling, so that's okay. I have been in love with the human body, especially blood, for a long time now, and when "intestinal fortitude" and "willingness to undergo extensive schooling" were the top things to consider for this job, I knew I didn't have much to worry about, as I would with a less hands-on job like a therapist. I considered graphic design for a short time, because it is hands-on and I do love it, but it requires more formal art training than just graphics and I'm willing to admit I'm not very good at many mediums of traditional art, especially realistic drawings. This is the first time I've been really excited about a career since I believed I would be a veterinarian, and that feels good, since the hands-on work, training and potential surgery aspects of being one never bothered me, I just decided recently that I think I'm better off with patients who can't breathe. It's been a long, long time since I've wanted to be a writer as an actual career, but this year was the year I wondered if I should even continue writing on the side. I decided to continue, and I went to a new counselor at college and a writing support group for a specific circumstance and found that I'm still going to be myself, just a me that has been altered. I found myself distancing and hating very specific things, and there are a few that I probably won't give up, as I openly mock them without even stopping to think about it, a clear sign that I'm taking the Desiree route on this one. It's not something I particularly mind, even though it's surprising for me and not something people would expect. As well, many negative things in my life are, as I've said, completely in the past. I've always had trouble with feeling that it was my fault or something could have changed if I'd only done a specific thing instead of what I did, and it's something I'm finally letting go of. As well, without even trying I'm as 100% turned away from one of the most harmful things that has been in my life for six years, just as turned away as I am by random hobbies and life choices. I've always known that with me, it was as simple a formula as suicidal versus homicidal, but not in such extremes; basically, that either I'll turn violence against myself or I'll feel it (if not act upon it) against others and it was just a matter of anyone ever taking me to the point where I no longer found a way to blame myself. I'm not sure if it's a positive thing entirely, but my counselor, dietician and health specialist at the largest state university in my state all seemed very pleased by the time the semester ended, and I never got that reaction before, not for more than a few weeks.
Next year, hopefully I'll be living with Seth, Krista, Jon, Julia and Katie in an on-campus apartment, and I'll be having guests come over and visit and sleep on my awesome couches and I'll cook for them and everything. I'm headed in a somewhat uncertain future, but parts of it have been forever changed, and it will be interesting to see exactly where that goes.
But it's not that we all universally get swept up in those things, necessarily, although many of us do at least in a couple categories, or our friends do. It's more that life happens, in the simplest terms. We don't really change in our core, at least not in my opinion so far, and not in the opinion of several wise adults. What happens is that different facets of us are brought into light by things that happen.
In so many ways, 2012 has been the best year for me in so many years. This year has been both reconciliation and total destruction. But for the most part, what was reconciled was positive relationships and what was destroyed was negative connections. A few things were lost along the way, like Mary, Auntie Jody, Nannie, and Great Grammie (although after reaching 100, I think Grammie had a long and happy life, and that one isn't really a sad death like the others). Again this year I had to deal with what I call the consequences of new friends. It happens basically any time you make a decent-sized amount of completely new friends. You form a "group" of people who are all friends, everyone is happy to get to know a bunch of new people, except for the few who already know each other, who are almost always sick of each other (it's like they chose to shed each other as soon as new people are available!), and then between a half year and a year and a half of knowing each other, you start losing people. There's always a person or two you didn't really even like and were just constantly annoyed with, but were too nice to drop (an affliction I can never shake and probably never will). There's always someone who is just rotten and likes to stir up drama, but everyone likes them for some fucking reason, so you've got to wait patiently until they smarten up or get the balls to drop them like you have (or want to in your heart). It's really sad that people always fall into these, but it just happens no matter what within a big group. What you're left with, however, is a solid group of really amazing friends, who just might be friends for life.
The best thing this year has been, simultaneously, the strengthening of some relationships and the ending of others. One thing I've known since my mom's death is that beautiful things come out of ugly things, every time, even if it takes a long time to realize. Usually, when something terrible happens, my first thought it just how to get the person back, whether that means revenge or trying to literally bring them back into my life. It isn't until I'm not looking anymore that I see whatever good has come out of it. Quite a few times in Fall semester I found myself thinking about how different life would be if I had just talked to Desiree and Christine freshman year of high school like I wanted to--even started to, but then backed off. They were such good friends to me, and such an integral part of my daily life as we took two classes all together (which was actually very unplanned), as they were junior and senior year too. But it found me wishing I had them in early high school, what it would have been like if I had reached out to them and had them become part of that initial group, if I had Desiree coming over to sleepover on weekends and holidays and listening to me complain about my unrequited love for Seth. I had a breakdown in a mall in November, and I was crying and she was the only person there to see it, and in that way, I was mourning for all the things that never were as well as the things that actually were.
As well as all the relationships I already have had with people for years, like my dad, Seth, Desiree, Christine, Emma, Naomi, Nicole, Kristen, and Jess, being strengthened, newer relationships became real as well. I think relationships between people become real at a certain point, a point that isn't always clearly definable, when you realize that you're comfortable with them enough to want to be your honest self. It happens after a certain amount of not just being with each other and getting to know each other, but also going "through" things together, and seeing your strengths with them. I'm at that point now, with my closest friends from college, Krista, Katie, Jon, and Julia. And it feels good. It feels even better than high school in some ways, because there were so many people that I could see would just fade when they got the chance. And I'm at a place now where things are so much better for me in my relationships with people. I can actually relate to Julia and understand when she says that people are trying to make too much room in their lives for each other, to the point where they're squeezed in when they shouldn't be and that people need to be able to do something they want to do without everyone inviting themself. And I couldn't agree more. I'm surprised to say it, as a person who came from such an opposite position, but my ability to be jealous is almost virtually gone. It has been for a long time. I don't want to cram people in and make them feel suffocated, the way that Mary felt when we were friends for a long time. I want to see people, and love them, and appreciate them as people. I finally have the kind of friendship I haven't made in a long time, with Krista. We're asked if we're twins when we're shopping at the mall, we take cutesy photos, we sing Good Charlotte together, we have long three-am conversations with Seth in which she becomes angry with us and strangles us and drags our dead corpses back into the building. And that isn't to say I don't have a relationship I've always wanted to have with Jon, Katie and Julia, too, because I do, perfectly. Especially because Jon is one of my only ever actual GAY friends. I love gay friends. The best part is that I don't love him because he's gay, since I didn't know when we became friends, because usually I tend to try to like someone if they're gay, just because I'm so lacking in that aspect of friendship. We have almost the exact same sense of humor, which is exactly why we started being friends, because the first night we hung out, we teamed up to sabotage a group board game together and we laughed the entire time. Probably one of the hardest things for someone to be the same as me on is my sense of humor, because it's really fucking weird, so that's perfect.
It just feels really great to have these set of people who know me, who I'm now comfortable sharing seriousness with, and who I can just love. I want the same thing for everyone in my life, which I see with most people, including Naomi, who barely just started college but is perfect soul mates with her roommate. And for the people who are struggling through that losing people phase, like Desiree, I can only hope will make it out with those who matter afterward. It's been a rough year for some of my friends and family as well, but I want to be there for them the way they have for me. It's not always advice, it's not always cramming the person into every corner of my life. It's just showing them that I'm here.
As well, there have been changes to my personal self. I'm pursuing the dream to be a forensic pathologist, which is a long path that involves extra schooling, but I love schooling, so that's okay. I have been in love with the human body, especially blood, for a long time now, and when "intestinal fortitude" and "willingness to undergo extensive schooling" were the top things to consider for this job, I knew I didn't have much to worry about, as I would with a less hands-on job like a therapist. I considered graphic design for a short time, because it is hands-on and I do love it, but it requires more formal art training than just graphics and I'm willing to admit I'm not very good at many mediums of traditional art, especially realistic drawings. This is the first time I've been really excited about a career since I believed I would be a veterinarian, and that feels good, since the hands-on work, training and potential surgery aspects of being one never bothered me, I just decided recently that I think I'm better off with patients who can't breathe. It's been a long, long time since I've wanted to be a writer as an actual career, but this year was the year I wondered if I should even continue writing on the side. I decided to continue, and I went to a new counselor at college and a writing support group for a specific circumstance and found that I'm still going to be myself, just a me that has been altered. I found myself distancing and hating very specific things, and there are a few that I probably won't give up, as I openly mock them without even stopping to think about it, a clear sign that I'm taking the Desiree route on this one. It's not something I particularly mind, even though it's surprising for me and not something people would expect. As well, many negative things in my life are, as I've said, completely in the past. I've always had trouble with feeling that it was my fault or something could have changed if I'd only done a specific thing instead of what I did, and it's something I'm finally letting go of. As well, without even trying I'm as 100% turned away from one of the most harmful things that has been in my life for six years, just as turned away as I am by random hobbies and life choices. I've always known that with me, it was as simple a formula as suicidal versus homicidal, but not in such extremes; basically, that either I'll turn violence against myself or I'll feel it (if not act upon it) against others and it was just a matter of anyone ever taking me to the point where I no longer found a way to blame myself. I'm not sure if it's a positive thing entirely, but my counselor, dietician and health specialist at the largest state university in my state all seemed very pleased by the time the semester ended, and I never got that reaction before, not for more than a few weeks.
Next year, hopefully I'll be living with Seth, Krista, Jon, Julia and Katie in an on-campus apartment, and I'll be having guests come over and visit and sleep on my awesome couches and I'll cook for them and everything. I'm headed in a somewhat uncertain future, but parts of it have been forever changed, and it will be interesting to see exactly where that goes.
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Sometimes I honestly can't believe how much time has passed. How much things have changed. I travel almost every weekend and when I do I listen to my iPod. Playlists. I have a Reminds Me of People playlist, a Playlist of My Life, a Macey Songs playlist, a Dancing playlist, NAT playlist, CDs from people playlists, and a few shorter ones. I sit and I listen and sometimes I like to remind myself of all that has come before this, now. I need to remember how I got here. I need to remember what is important and why. It hurts to think about the people who have walked out of my life, the people who have died (especially my mom and Mary), and the people who have ruined me. It hurts to think about when someone has come into my life and left a mark that isn't a good one. But I just have to remember how much of my heart is filled with the marks of those who have made life worth living. Seth. Kristen and Jessica. My parents. Naomi. Nicole. The rest of my family. Emma. Desiree. Christine. Krista. Katie. Jon. Even some of the people who left without saying goodbye but never hurt me, like Benny in middle school, or Dorn, or Lindsay, or Krystal, or Ashley, or Ericka. Not every story is a sad one. I've learned to forgive many people. Even the ones who have recently walked out of my life.
It's been hard this year, though. I've gotten a little lost and I'm only admitting it because it's really late and I'm awake and tired. I'm feeling unsafe and unsteady. I really can't sleep, can't eat. It hurts my heart to wake up in the morning sometimes. I don't know if I'm going to make it at times. I'm really homesick more than I should be. I just want to be somewhere safe and comfortable and familiar with people who are the same. It's tiring. I've both regressed and moved forward. I joined a support group and meet with a counselor in the hopes that these things can help me work with what I've got inside me, but I don't know if they can. After the first group meeting, I cried because one of the members was at least 80 years old. It hurt me to see someone that age going through how I feel now--alone. I wonder if she is there for past or recent reasons and I think about myself being that age, and that lonely, and feeling that way, and I don't want to imagine it. I can barely imagine a few days spent without the company of people I trust right now, never mind years. I get scared at the prospect of sleeping alone. Walking alone. Eating alone. Waking up alone. I feel almost incapable of being alone with just my thoughts or my dreams for any length of time.
I don't know what to do. I'm tempted to just give up. Not on life, never on life, but on anything that can aggravate this sleeplessness further. People right now are thinking of what to do with their lives. Whether grad school is a good idea. How fun it will be to be friends as we age. And I'm thinking of ways to sleep through the night safely and soundly without waking up with tears in my eyes or shaking from fear. I want my dreams back. I want myself back. I'm trying, everyone knows I'm trying. This Fall has been good for me. A lot of closeness and trust. I let a few more people in and showed them the most frightening part of me and they still wanted to be with me just as they had last year. It makes me feel a sense of comfort and home in a place where it had been building but not just yet cemented, and I needed that, because all of the old places are so far away. I've also been working on me, trying to figure out what I need, whether it's to burn and bury the past or to sit across from it and talk to it face to face. I've been doing a little of both and I don't know what direction my future will take. I hate to say that my entire life depends on one event, and one person, but that is the way for many people. It makes me wish that my mom was here to give me the personal advice I know she would have.
1. Who would you like to see right now?
Anyone who knows me well.
2. Favorite quote:
"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."
3. Age: 19
4. Top five turn ons:
1. Someone who knows me and loves me
2. Nerdiness
3. Oxford shirts
4. Sharp teeth
5. Sexy dancing
5. Top Five turn offs:
1. Drugs
2. Being a bro
3. Light green eyes
4. Dirty/bad looking hair
5. Bad eyebrows (this should be number one!)
6. Last movie you watched?
Coraline (Every time they say buttons...)
7. Top 10 tv shows:
No order!
1. Gilmore Girls
2. Dexter
3. Castle
4. Pretty Little Liars
5. Shameless
6. The Big Bang Theory
7. Raising Hope
8. Shameless
9. TrueBlood
10. South of Nowhere
8. Ever had alcohol?
Yes.
9. Ever taken drugs?
Hardly
10. Where would you like to live?
MA
11. Story of my last kiss?
The last kiss was Seth saying goodbye for the weekend
12. Are you missing someone right now?
Yes. Everyone who isn't with me who I care about.
13. A fact about the person you like:
The reason I really started to like her in the beginning was because she told me she wrote a book. I read her words and fell in love with them.
14. Ten facts about yourself:
1. I love taking photos with people
2. Writing is the one thing other than people in my life that I genuinely need (sans water/air/food/etc)
3. I only hate four people who have been alive to this day, and one of them is dead
4. I often wear rainbow/tutus/colorful socks
5. My favorite months are October, December, March and July and if I could make a season out of them I would
6. I'm allergic to eggs
7. I don't eat any meat besides chicken
8. I was born without a sense of smell
9. I often have a bad feeling that something will happen shortly before it does
10. I came out on Facebook both times that I had a "big" coming out
15. Biggest regret:
The moment I said hello and introduced myself
16. Biggest regret while drunk:
151 Rum also known as The Julia Night (no further explanation needed)
17. A wish
That I had never made this decision
18. Something you wish you didn't have to lie about:
My gender
19. Dream date
For me this is complicated.... Waking up at sunrise for a walk on the beach, followed by a long walk, with something fun and interactive like Lazer Tag thrown in, then a dinner date with sushi and ice cream, alcoholic beverages, and a night back at the beach where we fall asleep....and photos taken throughout the day at all parts of the date
20. If you could change one thing in your life what would it be?
If I'm being selfish, I would wish that I had understand that something was considered abusive at the time that it happened originally. But to be honest, I would likely not do this. I would wish for a specific person who is alive today to regain full ability to function at their physical age level.
21. Your best kiss?
I can't choose one, but they were all with Seth
22. Something you don't like:
Being poked
23. Someone you don't like:
There are four people that I've ever hated, and many that I just don't really like.
24. Best friend:
ML, KC, JG, ES, DC, CC, KB, JM, KG, NM, NKB
It's been hard this year, though. I've gotten a little lost and I'm only admitting it because it's really late and I'm awake and tired. I'm feeling unsafe and unsteady. I really can't sleep, can't eat. It hurts my heart to wake up in the morning sometimes. I don't know if I'm going to make it at times. I'm really homesick more than I should be. I just want to be somewhere safe and comfortable and familiar with people who are the same. It's tiring. I've both regressed and moved forward. I joined a support group and meet with a counselor in the hopes that these things can help me work with what I've got inside me, but I don't know if they can. After the first group meeting, I cried because one of the members was at least 80 years old. It hurt me to see someone that age going through how I feel now--alone. I wonder if she is there for past or recent reasons and I think about myself being that age, and that lonely, and feeling that way, and I don't want to imagine it. I can barely imagine a few days spent without the company of people I trust right now, never mind years. I get scared at the prospect of sleeping alone. Walking alone. Eating alone. Waking up alone. I feel almost incapable of being alone with just my thoughts or my dreams for any length of time.
I don't know what to do. I'm tempted to just give up. Not on life, never on life, but on anything that can aggravate this sleeplessness further. People right now are thinking of what to do with their lives. Whether grad school is a good idea. How fun it will be to be friends as we age. And I'm thinking of ways to sleep through the night safely and soundly without waking up with tears in my eyes or shaking from fear. I want my dreams back. I want myself back. I'm trying, everyone knows I'm trying. This Fall has been good for me. A lot of closeness and trust. I let a few more people in and showed them the most frightening part of me and they still wanted to be with me just as they had last year. It makes me feel a sense of comfort and home in a place where it had been building but not just yet cemented, and I needed that, because all of the old places are so far away. I've also been working on me, trying to figure out what I need, whether it's to burn and bury the past or to sit across from it and talk to it face to face. I've been doing a little of both and I don't know what direction my future will take. I hate to say that my entire life depends on one event, and one person, but that is the way for many people. It makes me wish that my mom was here to give me the personal advice I know she would have.
1. Who would you like to see right now?
Anyone who knows me well.
2. Favorite quote:
"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."
3. Age: 19
4. Top five turn ons:
1. Someone who knows me and loves me
2. Nerdiness
3. Oxford shirts
4. Sharp teeth
5. Sexy dancing
5. Top Five turn offs:
1. Drugs
2. Being a bro
3. Light green eyes
4. Dirty/bad looking hair
5. Bad eyebrows (this should be number one!)
6. Last movie you watched?
Coraline (Every time they say buttons...)
7. Top 10 tv shows:
No order!
1. Gilmore Girls
2. Dexter
3. Castle
4. Pretty Little Liars
5. Shameless
6. The Big Bang Theory
7. Raising Hope
8. Shameless
9. TrueBlood
10. South of Nowhere
8. Ever had alcohol?
Yes.
9. Ever taken drugs?
Hardly
10. Where would you like to live?
MA
11. Story of my last kiss?
The last kiss was Seth saying goodbye for the weekend
12. Are you missing someone right now?
Yes. Everyone who isn't with me who I care about.
13. A fact about the person you like:
The reason I really started to like her in the beginning was because she told me she wrote a book. I read her words and fell in love with them.
14. Ten facts about yourself:
1. I love taking photos with people
2. Writing is the one thing other than people in my life that I genuinely need (sans water/air/food/etc)
3. I only hate four people who have been alive to this day, and one of them is dead
4. I often wear rainbow/tutus/colorful socks
5. My favorite months are October, December, March and July and if I could make a season out of them I would
6. I'm allergic to eggs
7. I don't eat any meat besides chicken
8. I was born without a sense of smell
9. I often have a bad feeling that something will happen shortly before it does
10. I came out on Facebook both times that I had a "big" coming out
15. Biggest regret:
The moment I said hello and introduced myself
16. Biggest regret while drunk:
151 Rum also known as The Julia Night (no further explanation needed)
17. A wish
That I had never made this decision
18. Something you wish you didn't have to lie about:
My gender
19. Dream date
For me this is complicated.... Waking up at sunrise for a walk on the beach, followed by a long walk, with something fun and interactive like Lazer Tag thrown in, then a dinner date with sushi and ice cream, alcoholic beverages, and a night back at the beach where we fall asleep....and photos taken throughout the day at all parts of the date
20. If you could change one thing in your life what would it be?
If I'm being selfish, I would wish that I had understand that something was considered abusive at the time that it happened originally. But to be honest, I would likely not do this. I would wish for a specific person who is alive today to regain full ability to function at their physical age level.
21. Your best kiss?
I can't choose one, but they were all with Seth
22. Something you don't like:
Being poked
23. Someone you don't like:
There are four people that I've ever hated, and many that I just don't really like.
24. Best friend:
ML, KC, JG, ES, DC, CC, KB, JM, KG, NM, NKB
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It's time to go back.
3 min read
So I'm close to leaving for college again. Very close. It's days away. Did I mention that I'm a terrible packer? I tried to pack. It turned into a fashion show/me putting together outfits. I really wanted to find the button that was missing on my old JohnnyWishes shirt, and I found it, so now I can wear the shirt again (for me, this means like in the next two days).
I'm really looking forward to this year. I think that a lot of good things will happen. Recently when I was in a particular frame of mind (let's just call this the frame of mind where people say things that often make absolutely no sense) I kept obnoxiously telling Seth that her mom had called me a bad journalist and caused me to drop out of Yale. It wasn't until a week later, when I actually watched that episode (tonight while I was packing) that I realized it was true. I got over a period of time in which my Lorelai and I were separated, and both sad, and my confidence was shot. I thought that I could be someone that I'm not, but I can't. I am like Rory. I'm a relationship girl, and a serious one at that. And I'm responsible. I don't drink the founder's day punch and wake up with a hangover. I don't fight with my parent. I eat a lot of food. I organize things and I have journals of every thing I did all day long. I don't randomly steal yachts and go to jail. That just isn't me and I don't even want it to be.
Most of that was a metaphor, but also it applied quite nicely to my situation.
And while I may not be going to an Ivy League this semester (trust me, I will graduate from one in the end) I am excited about my studies. I don't care. I am excited about them. I can't wait to show up to class awkwardly early and look for things to do because the professor isn't even in yet. And I hope they try to tell me not to take too many classes--because I will, and I'll eat too much ice cream and I'll send copies of my essays to my girlfriend. I'm really excited, but it's not as much about the location or change as it is about me. My situation. My decisions. My attitude.
In just 48 hours, I will be waking up to pack the car and I will stop at Dunks and my dad and I will banter on the long car ride and cry a little and we'll eat at the dining hall and maybe take a campus walk and then I'll be there. Really there.
I'm really looking forward to this year. I think that a lot of good things will happen. Recently when I was in a particular frame of mind (let's just call this the frame of mind where people say things that often make absolutely no sense) I kept obnoxiously telling Seth that her mom had called me a bad journalist and caused me to drop out of Yale. It wasn't until a week later, when I actually watched that episode (tonight while I was packing) that I realized it was true. I got over a period of time in which my Lorelai and I were separated, and both sad, and my confidence was shot. I thought that I could be someone that I'm not, but I can't. I am like Rory. I'm a relationship girl, and a serious one at that. And I'm responsible. I don't drink the founder's day punch and wake up with a hangover. I don't fight with my parent. I eat a lot of food. I organize things and I have journals of every thing I did all day long. I don't randomly steal yachts and go to jail. That just isn't me and I don't even want it to be.
Most of that was a metaphor, but also it applied quite nicely to my situation.
And while I may not be going to an Ivy League this semester (trust me, I will graduate from one in the end) I am excited about my studies. I don't care. I am excited about them. I can't wait to show up to class awkwardly early and look for things to do because the professor isn't even in yet. And I hope they try to tell me not to take too many classes--because I will, and I'll eat too much ice cream and I'll send copies of my essays to my girlfriend. I'm really excited, but it's not as much about the location or change as it is about me. My situation. My decisions. My attitude.
In just 48 hours, I will be waking up to pack the car and I will stop at Dunks and my dad and I will banter on the long car ride and cry a little and we'll eat at the dining hall and maybe take a campus walk and then I'll be there. Really there.
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So I'm pretty absent as hell on Deviantart ever. I'm pretty much addicted to tumblr. www.lisamarieskeys.tumblr.com. But since I feel like it, I'm posting a journal anyway.
People have been bringing up all these weird feelings regarding this summer, and I've spent a long time thinking about it, and I can come up with reasons.
To start with, this is the first summer back after college for many of my friends. That can't explain the weird feeling for those who aren't returning sophomores, but for at least some of us, it can. The world looks different after going away because we were used to one set thing for a long time (longevity depending upon the person and how long they'd lived in their current situation prior to college, but basically applicable across the board) and we were shown a completely new way and then brought back to our old place again. For me, it brought all these weird, weird feelings and dreams. At first, during winter break, being back in my house was like how returning to Malden has felt to me ever since my move: like being in an alternate universe where my mind can't decide whether or not all the stuff that happened since time passed actually happened or not. Basically, my mind wants to regress into the life I had in that place for so long, but my mind is too aware of the new things to fully do that. It led to a really fierce onslaught of dreams during winter break that I was taking classes at my old school during break because that was the normal thing to do in my dream. I was more than confused, and then when I actually did return to Malden for a week, it was weirder than weird, like it was old under a layer of new-old.
Despite all the time I spent preparing for how it would feel to go to college, move in with Seth, leave home, make new friends, not see anyone from high school that I didn't choose to anymore, write letters to the people I needed to, and everything else, I was unprepared for all those weird feelings. I began having a long-distance friendship with not just Kristen & Jess, but also Desiree, Emma, Christine and Jen as well. And then I'd return home and see them and it would be like absolutely no time had passed (a feeling I was familiar with because of Kristen, Jess, Naomi, Nicole and many other family members and close friends) and I would expect to wake up at 6:30, take a shower, do my hair, and get picked up by Desiree's mom for the bus to be ready for English class or assembly in the morning. It was very, very weird regression. I yearned for high school the way I had yearned for Malden, a feeling I wasn't familiar with because I barely felt it with middle school. I longed to lean on Seth on the bus, to complain and mess around with my friends in Small, to roll my eyes at teachers, to see the people in high school that I always knew I would lose once it was over but always hoped I somehow wouldn't.
We got together and we talked about all the people from school. I found out very quickly that I cared. I cared who was pregnant, who had a boyfriend, who was dropping out of college, who got a job, who gained weight, who cut their hair. I found out that I cared, in varying degrees, about people and that it wouldn't automatically stop once I no longer saw their physical presence. Just as I continue to wonder about those who affected me in childhood and middle school, I cared, especially about people I had once been friends with. I had opinions. They had changed, but I didn't see myself as having changed. I saw the mistakes in our friendships clearly but I also missed them in a more bittersweet way. It wasn't in that real, raw way that you miss someone when they suddenly leave your life, fight with you, or die unexpectedly. It was that weird nostalgic feeling of missing someone who had been gone a lot longer than you expected it to feel like they had. I was torn up in the way that someone is when the person isn't in their life anymore. If someone is in my life, I want the best for them, even when the best is difficult. But when they aren't, it's hard to differentiate between judging them, hoping they miss me, hoping they turn things around, hoping they don't turn it around, and hoping they realize how much better things would be if they didn't let go of our friendship.
On March 5th, something happened that changed all of those feelings. Since my mom's death, my motto has been to keep someone in my life with all that it takes because you never know when they'll be gone and you won't have the chance. When MayMay died, I was faced with the knowledge that someone was gone who had already been gone to me for so many years. I realized that sometimes friendships end, and even though in this case there was a lot I wished I had said, sometimes it won't go back to being the way it was and not even the possibility of permanently losing the person can change that. In the case of MayMay, I blame myself for our fighting, but I also think that what our friendship was could never have been gotten back.
I had always thought that all that mattered was that I cared about someone a lot. That as long as I did, things would work out. I never thought of the fact that someone may not care back. This wasn't the case with MayMay, but it was something else I learned over the course of the year. I thought that if I just tried enough, loved enough, and wanted enough to be in someone's life in a particular way that I would be. I learned how it felt to care, really care, and be rejected almost completely. It wasn't middle school, where I just had some friends who were bad to me. I didn't care for them nearly this much. This time I realized how painful it is to want to be close with someone, to try again and again, and not to be still. Friends allowed themselves to lose touch after high school and people refused to be family with me. I lost a lot of myself and a lot of my way. Freshman year of college was my worst year since eighth grade, the year that I considered to be the most recent of my three worst, and the only three times in my life that I actually thought about what it would be to purposely leave this life. Anyone who looked at my academic and social life would have no idea that my year was so bad, but those who were close enough to see me clearly could tell. I think that this summer has an added layer of weirdness because I know I'm still recovering from the time that I had this year. I'm still trying to figure out how to feel better. And the direct effects of the year are still coming up time and time again, as I stress over my college change for the upcoming school year and the consequences of the change falling through and regressing into the negativity of the past year.
I'm looking forward to the possibility of showing people what I'm capable of when I find my way again. I feel that my college friends will see an entirely new side of me in a good way. I think my longtime friends and family will be pleased, because I have seen them be pleased with it as I've begun the process this spring and summer.
I also think that the changes that are happening around us are influencing the weirdness of summer. There have been some surprises for those around me, changes that were unexpected and sad. It was enough already to have the huge change of going away for many of us without the added stress of other things in our home changing. People's expectations for us have changed for the better or worse depending on our actions. We have seen that some friends won't make the effort to stay in our lives, and have grieved for those close to us who are struggling.
No matter how much changes and time passes, I still can't see into the future. I'm capable of planning for it, but mainly of living for the present. I still can't imagine myself graduating college, getting married, having children or living to be two or especially three decades old. I'm still waiting for myself to make another mistake at every moment, and mourning the loss of my past, and looking at an uncertain future and a confused identity. I learned that someone I know is getting divorced because their spouse is making a huge change late in their life, a change that I have considered making myself almost every day that I wake up. I still believe that I will either not live to be old, and will definitely not live to be old without making that change. But I, like those around me, would mourn my old life even knowing that I'm the same person. Over the course of this year, I have regressed in that department, in how I see myself and treat myself, because of circumstances around me and other peoples' reactions to me. I no longer treat myself the way I deserve to be treated, the way that I treated myself the year before, but I'm trying to now. One of my summer goals was to begin doing it again, and standing up for myself in warranted situations, and I vow to continue this when college starts up again.
All in all, I don't think that any year, season, month, day or moment is absolutely perfect. I think that everything is just different from anything else that has come before it or will come after it, and appreciating its different-ness and the beauty and even beautiful pain of it is all that we can do.
People have been bringing up all these weird feelings regarding this summer, and I've spent a long time thinking about it, and I can come up with reasons.
To start with, this is the first summer back after college for many of my friends. That can't explain the weird feeling for those who aren't returning sophomores, but for at least some of us, it can. The world looks different after going away because we were used to one set thing for a long time (longevity depending upon the person and how long they'd lived in their current situation prior to college, but basically applicable across the board) and we were shown a completely new way and then brought back to our old place again. For me, it brought all these weird, weird feelings and dreams. At first, during winter break, being back in my house was like how returning to Malden has felt to me ever since my move: like being in an alternate universe where my mind can't decide whether or not all the stuff that happened since time passed actually happened or not. Basically, my mind wants to regress into the life I had in that place for so long, but my mind is too aware of the new things to fully do that. It led to a really fierce onslaught of dreams during winter break that I was taking classes at my old school during break because that was the normal thing to do in my dream. I was more than confused, and then when I actually did return to Malden for a week, it was weirder than weird, like it was old under a layer of new-old.
Despite all the time I spent preparing for how it would feel to go to college, move in with Seth, leave home, make new friends, not see anyone from high school that I didn't choose to anymore, write letters to the people I needed to, and everything else, I was unprepared for all those weird feelings. I began having a long-distance friendship with not just Kristen & Jess, but also Desiree, Emma, Christine and Jen as well. And then I'd return home and see them and it would be like absolutely no time had passed (a feeling I was familiar with because of Kristen, Jess, Naomi, Nicole and many other family members and close friends) and I would expect to wake up at 6:30, take a shower, do my hair, and get picked up by Desiree's mom for the bus to be ready for English class or assembly in the morning. It was very, very weird regression. I yearned for high school the way I had yearned for Malden, a feeling I wasn't familiar with because I barely felt it with middle school. I longed to lean on Seth on the bus, to complain and mess around with my friends in Small, to roll my eyes at teachers, to see the people in high school that I always knew I would lose once it was over but always hoped I somehow wouldn't.
We got together and we talked about all the people from school. I found out very quickly that I cared. I cared who was pregnant, who had a boyfriend, who was dropping out of college, who got a job, who gained weight, who cut their hair. I found out that I cared, in varying degrees, about people and that it wouldn't automatically stop once I no longer saw their physical presence. Just as I continue to wonder about those who affected me in childhood and middle school, I cared, especially about people I had once been friends with. I had opinions. They had changed, but I didn't see myself as having changed. I saw the mistakes in our friendships clearly but I also missed them in a more bittersweet way. It wasn't in that real, raw way that you miss someone when they suddenly leave your life, fight with you, or die unexpectedly. It was that weird nostalgic feeling of missing someone who had been gone a lot longer than you expected it to feel like they had. I was torn up in the way that someone is when the person isn't in their life anymore. If someone is in my life, I want the best for them, even when the best is difficult. But when they aren't, it's hard to differentiate between judging them, hoping they miss me, hoping they turn things around, hoping they don't turn it around, and hoping they realize how much better things would be if they didn't let go of our friendship.
On March 5th, something happened that changed all of those feelings. Since my mom's death, my motto has been to keep someone in my life with all that it takes because you never know when they'll be gone and you won't have the chance. When MayMay died, I was faced with the knowledge that someone was gone who had already been gone to me for so many years. I realized that sometimes friendships end, and even though in this case there was a lot I wished I had said, sometimes it won't go back to being the way it was and not even the possibility of permanently losing the person can change that. In the case of MayMay, I blame myself for our fighting, but I also think that what our friendship was could never have been gotten back.
I had always thought that all that mattered was that I cared about someone a lot. That as long as I did, things would work out. I never thought of the fact that someone may not care back. This wasn't the case with MayMay, but it was something else I learned over the course of the year. I thought that if I just tried enough, loved enough, and wanted enough to be in someone's life in a particular way that I would be. I learned how it felt to care, really care, and be rejected almost completely. It wasn't middle school, where I just had some friends who were bad to me. I didn't care for them nearly this much. This time I realized how painful it is to want to be close with someone, to try again and again, and not to be still. Friends allowed themselves to lose touch after high school and people refused to be family with me. I lost a lot of myself and a lot of my way. Freshman year of college was my worst year since eighth grade, the year that I considered to be the most recent of my three worst, and the only three times in my life that I actually thought about what it would be to purposely leave this life. Anyone who looked at my academic and social life would have no idea that my year was so bad, but those who were close enough to see me clearly could tell. I think that this summer has an added layer of weirdness because I know I'm still recovering from the time that I had this year. I'm still trying to figure out how to feel better. And the direct effects of the year are still coming up time and time again, as I stress over my college change for the upcoming school year and the consequences of the change falling through and regressing into the negativity of the past year.
I'm looking forward to the possibility of showing people what I'm capable of when I find my way again. I feel that my college friends will see an entirely new side of me in a good way. I think my longtime friends and family will be pleased, because I have seen them be pleased with it as I've begun the process this spring and summer.
I also think that the changes that are happening around us are influencing the weirdness of summer. There have been some surprises for those around me, changes that were unexpected and sad. It was enough already to have the huge change of going away for many of us without the added stress of other things in our home changing. People's expectations for us have changed for the better or worse depending on our actions. We have seen that some friends won't make the effort to stay in our lives, and have grieved for those close to us who are struggling.
No matter how much changes and time passes, I still can't see into the future. I'm capable of planning for it, but mainly of living for the present. I still can't imagine myself graduating college, getting married, having children or living to be two or especially three decades old. I'm still waiting for myself to make another mistake at every moment, and mourning the loss of my past, and looking at an uncertain future and a confused identity. I learned that someone I know is getting divorced because their spouse is making a huge change late in their life, a change that I have considered making myself almost every day that I wake up. I still believe that I will either not live to be old, and will definitely not live to be old without making that change. But I, like those around me, would mourn my old life even knowing that I'm the same person. Over the course of this year, I have regressed in that department, in how I see myself and treat myself, because of circumstances around me and other peoples' reactions to me. I no longer treat myself the way I deserve to be treated, the way that I treated myself the year before, but I'm trying to now. One of my summer goals was to begin doing it again, and standing up for myself in warranted situations, and I vow to continue this when college starts up again.
All in all, I don't think that any year, season, month, day or moment is absolutely perfect. I think that everything is just different from anything else that has come before it or will come after it, and appreciating its different-ness and the beauty and even beautiful pain of it is all that we can do.
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