Future Starts Slow

It's no secret that I wear my emotions on my sleeve. While I'm great at secret-keeping, I'm horrible at I'm-having-a-bad-day-don't-cry-on-the-bus-that's-really-awkard-seriously-stop-crying. So, the majority of people that spend time with me know that 2013 was not my year. Made some mistakes, made some choices that are going to be classified under the category of 'NOPE', and struggled to figure out this world of semi-adulthood.

But... what I have learned from the past year is that it's never too late to become the person you want to be. There's no timer counting down the clock. People may leave, people may get pissed at you, people may be disappointed... but in my experience it only makes me want to live my best life that much more. It doesn't matter about what other people think of my journey. What matters is that I have the courage and the acceptance to walk alone, on my own journey, and grow up for no one else but myself. I think once I start doing things for myself, I'll have the capacity to be a better friend, companion, daughter, student, etc.

So, 2014... Here's what we're going to accomplish. 14 goals, or resolutions, to make this next year of life one for the record books.

1. Teach Joy.

Every day of 2014, I will journal about what I found in my 24 hours that made me feel joy. There's a beautiful book by Barabara Kingslover, High Tide in Tuscon, where she talks about having to teach herself joy over and over again until she learned to fall in love with her life. Isn't that a gorgeous image? I hope that in documenting which moments, large or small, give me joy I'll find that the joy comes from within. It's my ultimate goal in my life, and 2014 is gonna be chance to make it happen.

2. Read my bookshelf.

This is continuing from last year, but I have so many books that I've never read that collect dust in my room. I tried this summer to start with the classics and work my way through... but time is fleeting and soon enough you tell yourself one of your favorite hobbies has to wait. So, every night before I sleep, I will read. It can be a page, it can be a chapter... but I want to give my mind the satisfaction of strengthening my imagination at least once a day.

3. Get a passport.

I don't even need to use it, but knowing I can leave on a great adventure at any time (because bills don't exist, right?) will be an amazing thought to carry me through the days I don't want to get out of bed and go to work. There's so much world to see, and my dream of traveling deserves to be my reality... in time.

4. Move Yo'self.

Some form of physical activity at least three times a week. Because, you  know, people tell me about endorphins and how they're not horrible....

5. When you get a paycheck...

Don't go to Barnes and Noble and spend it. Don't go to Subway and spend it. Don't go see Titanic in 3D 5 times and spend it (I won't apologize)...Put aside at least 25% of every paycheck for savings, right away. This is mostly an experiment to see what I can accumulate throughout the year, especially with student loans calling my name any second now.

6. Take a class during summer.

I want a degree so bad, just to say I have a degree... that's kind of lame. I want to want to educate myself and appreciate my education. Taking a class this summer, furthering my journey towards graduation, will help me conquer 2014 by getting me back on track.

7. Make My Bed

Isn't it so silly that this needs to be a resolution? But I'm horrible at keeping a tidy room. So, my hope is that by waking up every day and making my bed, I'll also pick up the laundry on the floor and take out the trash and put away my hair dryer. You know, grown up things... Gross.

8. Don't call in sick...

...unless I'm sick. Form a work ethic to be proud of, and strive to earn people's respect and trust by showing up everyday ready to work. Finding a job can be so tricky, I'm finally realizing how much of an opportunity it is to work. It's funny, when it comes to theater, I never miss a day. When it comes to work, in my mind I say it's different. When it comes to school, LOL. Shouldn't be laughing, but that's what 2014 is about! Learning discipline and growing up!

9. Shop locally.

I live in a great town with a lot of local shops, and they're all amazing. Eating, produce, shopping... keep it local to support a beautiful town.

10. Complicated Simplicity 

To cherish moments of complicated simplicity. When things are going a mile a minute, I want to train myself to take a deep breath and remind myself how very simple life can be. Simplifying your life by letting go of the past, by eliminating negative people, by having a set schedule you follow, by drinking tea and reading a book before bed... there are so many ways to simplify your days. Life will always be complicated, and scary, and full of unwanted, unappealing moments... but if I can simplify the ordinary days, the complicated and extraordinary days will be a walk in the park. Or, at least, bearable. Either or.

11. Ukulele

In 2013 I made one really good decision. I purchased a ukulele, and I've been learning to play for about two months now. It's my very favorite time of day, when I sit in my room next to my heater and look up new songs to learn. My goal is to play at least one open mic night in 2014, with my ukulele in hand.

12. Answer the call

I'm so horrible at responding to texts/calling people back. I think my family members think I'm in a different country with no reception... A goal is to always call people back. Texts... we'll see. I'm seriously the worst at it. But I miss the joy I had when I was younger about talking on the phone. I despise phone calls... the awkward pauses. There are only a select few people in my life I can talk on the phone with, and they all live over a thousand miles away from me. Weird. So, I promise to call back. There. Written in stone. Not really.

13. For MacKenzie

I was talking to my mom a few weeks ago and she said, quite bluntly in her Teri D way, 'You do so many things for other people, but none of it is for MacKenzie.' (Then she apologized for speaking in the third person... Classic.) So, 2014, I will start to do things for myself. I will bake the cake, I will walk  the extra two blocks uphill, I will take the bus every day to and from work, I will strive for independence. I worry so much about what others need from me, I ignore myself. That's a lonely little way to spend my days. I'm not sure how to document this, but I think in time I'll feel it... the whole to feel strong thing :)

14. Cherish It

Say I love you more. Don't hesitate to compliment someone, even it makes them or me uncomfortable. Give hugs. Let the annoyances of everyday life go. Calm my temper. Take deep breaths. Cherish my time. Cherish my people. Cherish my life.

Cheers to sending off a difficult year and difficult choices. Cheers to hope and champagne and love. Cheers to taking myself way too seriously. Cheers to you.

A Single Glorious Moment

I am starting this blog by stating a fact so true it is painful: I've been a downer. I real Debby D. Let's try and fix that...

So here's the deal: When schedules are full and bank accounts are low and stress is infinite and life just... happens, you forget the moments. I'm all about moments. In my core, without busy life and chaos, I look at my life in moments. There's moments from childhood I cling to. The time I was riding a scooter and looked back at my neighbor-sisters and completely ate shit on the sidewalk. The time in junior high when I missed the school bus because I sat, terrified and naked, in my bathroom shouting at the 'intruder' which turned out to be the house creaking that I had $16.00 in my underwear drawer and my dad kept change in his closet. I sat in there for two hours until the phone rang and it was my mom who totally appreciated my bravery..... Moments, man. In adulthood, or semi-adulthood, I forget to cling on to the little things.

I met with an incredible human begin today, and she reminded me of a quote she sent me last year when I was filling a quote book (which are perfection) for a friend. It reads:

In my own worst seasons I’ve come back from the colorless world of despair by 
forcing myself to look hard, for a long time, at a single glorious thing: a flame of red 
geranium outside my bedroom window. And then another: my daughter in a yellow 
dress. And another: the perfect outline of a full, dark sphere behind the crescent 
moon. Until I learned to be in love with my life again. Like a stroke victim retraining 
new parts of the brain to grasp lost skills, I have taught myself joy, over and over 
again. --Barbara Kingsolver, High Tide in Tucson

By finding the distinctive moments in a day to really focus on, we allow for more moments to appear. It's a beautiful thought, teaching yourself joy. Even more, it's a beautiful feeling. Here are my glorious things. The moments that I will force myself to grasp, to cling onto, to slowly teach myself joy... to fall in love with my life day after day after day.

--Two days ago I got a job. It's at school in my department, with people that will fill my mornings with laughter. The moment I'm clinging to is when I went and told a dear friend I got the job and she held onto me like I had just won a Nobel Peace Prize. This woman is amazing, and never ceases to make me smile... but there was something so nurturing in her pride for me. What a gal.

--Joni Mitchell's A Case of You is a perfect song. When I hear it, I long for love. I smile with hope.

--The first big snowfall happened tonight. Nothing major, but it actually stuck on the ground. It's definitely too cold for just sweaters anymore here in Duluth. I took time tonight while waiting for the bus home to listen to the snow crunching beneath my feet. There's so much beauty in silence. It's one of my favorite things about winter... the silence in the night air as you watch your breath evaporate. A single glorious thing.

--You know when you don't realize you just really need a hug and then someone hugs you and you exhale and think 'That's exactly what I needed in that exact moment.' I got one of those hugs today, and I couldn't help but think at the time... I miss my family. My dad gives hugs like that. It was a reminder of the people that aren't here with me but still have my back, day in and day out.

--I'm about to fall asleep, and I'm doing something I haven't done in weeks. Read. No homework. No paperwork. Just fiction. I may only make it three pages before falling asleep... but there's romance in diving under the covers, finishing the cup of tea, and adventuring to the land of make believe.

--And my final moment of the day, is right now. I find myself wiping away tears as I finish up this blog. The beauty of exhaling and seeing my breath at a bus stop. The memory of my dad giving me a hug the last time I was home. The excitement I have to read my book. It's all happiness. The pain of struggle and acceptance and work and the daily grind.... some days it feels too big, that pain. But it can easily be overthrown by these simple moments. By these beautiful highlight reels. I love this blog. I love what it means to me, and what it's given me. A voice, a stage, a page. It's given me perspective, and time.  I just feel lucky, I guess. Writing it all out... I feel strong.

There's a lot of joy in my world... if I cling to it. If I look for the moments of contentment, of simplicity... they're all there. I've tried finding a word more beautiful... but I'm just really excited by the notion of showing up, every day, and falling in love with life. For some it may seem second nature. For others I may sound crazy. But for me, it's a new outlook. It's a new experiment on my search for not only happiness, but moments. The search for moments will lead to happiness... because it's never about the destination, it's about the journey.

Cheers to the moments. Cheers to incredible women who share their stories. Cheers to you.

Embracing Ownership

I'm finding my way into December and realizing that it's been a long fall. As winter approaches, so do some scary decisions I need to make in terms of school, life, location, and moving forward. It's just hard, guys. It's just hard. And when it's just hard, I feel like a putz. Like days turn into weeks and I still haven't done x,y, and z and therefore I should just throw in the towel. I make no mark of the things I do accomplish. I make no mark of the steps forward I'm making, I only look back and see the time where I colored outside the lines or decided not to color at all.

I'm comparing myself to others a lot. I was at dinner the other day and a good friend mentioned, 'I don't know how (insert best friends name here) does it. I mean, if (best friend) can do it, we can.' And I thought, what the fuck.... why can't I do this? This best friend has overcome a lot. And because I'm not BFF, I'm like... you FUCKING rock, BFF. But, if you were to ask BFF, and I have, it's not like every day is a picnic and a walk by Lady Superior. I talked about this about a week ago with BFF, and she (i'm sick of saying BFF, okay...) said that I can't compare it. It's a kind of grief that only she knows. And it's so true.

So, maybe this fall I'm going through my own kind of grief. I don't like calling it that. I'm going through my own kind of hard. My own. When I step back and realize that it's my story, my journey, my path... I can kind of calm down. I can begin to look at the big picture and see that at 22 years old, I can change. I can turn life upside down seventy different ways if I want to. I have the ability and the opportunity to do whatever I want, in a sense. If it takes me twice as long as the rest of the 22 year olds on the planet, I have no doubt they'll be waiting at the finish line to cheer me on. I have really good people in my life, that only want the best for me... that daily reminder makes things feel a lot like calm. Even if just for a minute.

I truly have no idea what the next year of my life looks like. I'm terrified. But, there's so much good that can come from time. My mom gave me an amazing piece of advice this summer. I asked what she does during a bad day... how can you get through it and move on? And she said you tell yourself there's time. It's one more hour until you get to sleep. It's one more shift at work until a day off. It's one more wake up until you see someone you really want to see. There's always time. Time can be a really good friend, if you let it guide you through the bad.

So, I'll hold onto time as I navigate through the bad days in search for the good. There truly is good in every day... Why is that so easy to let go of? Maybe I'll start writing down the good from each day. Get back to what this blog is about... feeling strong. If I'm only writing about the bad, it's all I remember. If I'm only writing about the good... I'm forgetting the whole point of this blog and what it means to me. This period of 'what now?' will fade. This too shall pass. Life is a beautiful ride, and it's just about time I took back the reigns.

'Owning our story can be hard, but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous on giving up on love and belonging and joy-- the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to experience darkness will we discover the infinite power of light.' 
--Brene Brown 

Cheers.

I Could See For Miles, Miles, Miles

You know when you have a cold you get this feeling that you'll never-ever not have a cold? You forget what it's like to be healthy. You think, 'Well, I'll never go to the gym again because running while not-breathing is impossible.' (Just me?) You tell yourself if you get back to full health you'll never allow yourself to get this sick again. You'll wear three winter coats if that's what if takes. You'll buy Airborne and drink all the orange juice on this planet.

That's kind of like happiness. You forget that there was a time where you were really happy. On the bad days, you forget that there's a goal. You forget that there's a reason to get up and stay up. You forget that it's a ride, with the hills and the valleys. With the flat tires. With the roll overs. It's a ride.

That's autumn for me. This autumn at least. I haven't really made goals. I haven't made plans. I don't feel like I'm really living, I feel like I'm existing. Which, I mean, at the end of the day... that's something. That's better than not existing. A few months ago I was in a place where I said, 'I'm kicking depression's ass' and then it was all like 'You think, huh?'.... and now I'm here. We've both gone down swinging and I think it's time we call it a draw.

I think it's time I make some plans. And have no expectations. Have no judgements. Just accomplish these goals I have in my head and give myself time to do it. Breathe. You know? I met with a woman today who knows nothing about me... knows very little about why I'm a horrible student and why I litchrally hate talking about myself. And she took one look at me and told me to breathe. And to take time to figure out why I'm where I'm at. And it was such a... a moment. This woman gets a dozen kids a week telling her they are failing this and failing that and this is why and here's this excuse... I mean, I would be so tired of it. But as I was leaving her office, she smiled at me and she said 'I'm here to help you. I get to help you.' Two sentences that stopped me from going into a bathroom and crying. I walked out with my head held high, knowing that I'm currently fixing this big ol' flat tire... but I'm gonna be back on the road soon. I'm so thankful to that woman. I'm so thankful.

I have no idea where this journey will take me. Where I will take myself... I just know that I have people in my life that understand. I have people that don't. And I need them both. I get to continue my journey towards happiness. I get to try my hardest to pass these classes and want for more. I get to right the wrongs. As I go into another rehearsal tonight, I feel full. It might be the warm coffee I just chugged... But I feel like I have this energy. It's going to be such a long journey. And I'm so very scared. But this too shall pass. And when it does, I will continue on my way... not taking one goddamn look in the rearview mirror.

Cheers to the moments of happiness. Cheers to the moments of sadness. We need them both. Cheers to the journey...

TGIF

Fall has been hard. And that's all I know how to write. I'm at a position where I can turn it around, I can make things better... I just don't know if I have the energy. The first snowfall is here and I just want to sleep through it.

Time, once again, for a change. This too shall pass, it always does, but I wish the pain would let up. I think that's my realization of the week... which was particularly hard. I was having dinner with a friend and he said, 'We just have to work through the pain.'

We. Everyone. Everyone's in their own version of pain. No one's pain is superior to another's. People may be going through harder times, lord knows I look to my best friends and their situations and find so much strength in how they continue on... but that doesn't mean other people's pain isn't there. If I can own this pain, if I can say it's a shitty week... maybe it can pass.

I'm struggling in school. I'm struggling with finding a job. I'm struggling in stupid decision making. I'm struggling in not forming an addiction to cigarettes, which feel so goddamn good during a bad, cold week. I'm struggling in fighting the urge to eat all the chocolate made on this big ol' planet. I'm struggling. And it's very painful. Because while I'm surrounded by I love yous and you can do it's... I feel alone. That whole 'growing up is lonely because it's an independent act' thing is wearing on me.

I don't know what it will take to turn this around, I just know I'm ready for a change. I need to be ready to do the work... Maybe not even ready. I just need to, as my dad says, 'Get some fucking gumption.'

Cheers to gumption... where the fuck you at? Come find me, let's boogie.

Truth Bomb

Truth Bomb: I need a fucking beer.

There, I said it. I just need a beer. I need to be at my parents house, sitting on their deck, drinking a beer and laughing about the mistakes I made when I was twelve. I need to be at a bar with my best friends celebrating making it through one more day of semi-adulthood-craziness. I need to be in California visiting my best friends, hitting up bars too fancy for us but we fake it til we make it.

I need to get away from this bad week. And it's not just me. Which is a good and bad thing. Literally, every one I've talked to about my slump has said, you're telling me... We're tired, we're emotional, we're uninspired. Stressed out. And it's just a bad week... it will pass... but I need a beer.

I need a listen-to-Steve-Martin-play-the-banjo-watch-Hocus-Pocus-drink-beer-and-cry-my-fecking-eyes-out kind of night.

You know?

[compare where you are to where you want to be and you'll get nowhere]

Hey, Mike. What day is it?

Hump Day Thoughts:

--I can't change the entire world. I can't change other lives by bending them and twisting them into perfect little puzzle pieces that all fit together. That isn't life. That's Pleasantville... and William H. Macy will tell you that place blows. I find myself getting bogged down every few weeks by these massive (how I see them, at least) details and the fact that I do things wrong sometimes. Sometimes my organization is just not good. And sometimes I let my writing homework pile up to where it's this massive mound of 'I don't want to do anything but watch West Wing, fuck off Advanced Writing' and really... day by day is just fine. It's more than just fine. It's how life should be lived. Obviously it's wise to see that light at the end of the tunnel... but day by day, assignment by assignment, rehearsal to rehearsal is not a bad way to live.

--I need a freaking job.

--I'm really nervous going into rehearsals. I'm not sure if it's the right move in this game of chess that is my life. I like the show, got a good cast, it's what I love to do...but I'm tired. I just hope I treat myself well and keep up with life and don't let the picture get bigger than it needs to be.

--I know really great men.

--I went hiking today and went up this crazy steep hill and I swear to you I thought I was going to die I was breathing so loud. Being out of shape and looking in shape is one thing... but being out of shape and looking out of shape and then having an asthma attack (dramatic) on a pile of leaves is another. I wish I had taken more time out of fall to go hiking in Duluth.

--It's supposed to snow on Saturday. DONE.

--I miss my mom.

--I'm only one person. That doesn't mean I can give up on areas of my life. It means I can become a full fledged human being that works, goes to school, goes to rehearsal, eats vegetables, takes walks, and passes classes. I can do this. I don't know what chip is missing in my brain that makes me so unsure some days.

--I'm so sleepy. I have so much homework. I need a job. I'm doing okay. Cheers.

Stupid Cupid

Secret MacKenzie Fact #86: If you sport a beard, I will pay attention to you faster than if you have a plain ol' skin faced face. It's just a thing. Maybe it's the classic 22 year old daddy issues, maybe it's my good (brilliant) taste in men, or maybe it's just the fact that a lumberjack (not Dexter, let's NOT go there) sounds like a good person to spend time with. If you can grow a beard, I salute you... I like you... I maybe even prematurely love you.

Wanna know what else? My lack of ability to talk to men has led me to thee worst interactions with men on the whole big Earth. And by the worst, I don't mean the sad truth that sometimes women and men are treated poorly by other men and women. I mean worst, like the stories I bring up at therapy and my therapist laughs at me as I am astonished being pushed into a snow bank or ripping my pants from crotch to knee could ever be funny.

Last winter, that's just what happened. This man with a beard/sweater/puffy vest thing going on walked my way and I thought (hair flip) 'what's up, man?' and then he threw my ass in a snow bank and stole my Pottery Barn tote bag. What a duh-ick. That beard was not earned, it was a disguise!

------

I used to work at a tourist attraction in Duluth, and every once in a while I would sell tickets. On the really slow days, I would sit out in the ticket house and sing to keep myself awake. Songs from bands that I'm embarrassed about... so I'll tell you it was bands like Grizzly Bear, HAIM, and fuggin Radiohead. (Oh hell, it was Alanis Morrisette. It's always gonna be Alanis) As I'm singing along, I'm spinning in a chair with my head tilted to the ceiling... pretending me and my girl A are jamming on a hill top overlooking Canada and talking about her romance with Ryan Reynolds. (She would say it was 'the real deal' and we'd chuckle) I was spending too much time spinning and singing and spinning and singing that I didn't notice the HUMAN BEING that had walked into the ticket house. This human being didn't look like Alanis Morrisette. This human being didn't look like Ryan Reynolds. This human being looked like Paul freaking Bunyan. Hint: Paul Bunyan is good looking in this scene. Beard for days, plaid on plaid on plaid... and as I spin and notice my future husband staring at me... I fall out of my chair. Not the stumble out fall, the lose balance/lose your shit fall out. The kind that's kind of painful. What does Paul do? Does he chuckle and brush the hair out of my face? Does he ask if I'm alright? No. Paul walks away. Literally decides the freak singing in the ticket house is enough of a glimpse into what a two hour tour will be and needs to get the hell outta there. So, I quit two weeks later.

------

Then there was this summer, when I liked another human being enough to actually initiate a conversation with him about something other than how much we're mutually enjoying the weather...

(The topic was something close to New York)
Me: It's about so much more than leaving, it's about starting over.
Beard: It's about realizing we're in our twenties...why not just go for it?
Me: Exactly. You get it.
Beard: I get it. Fully.

(Fun little pause as we both imagine making out on the beach... just me?)

Beard: My wife wants to go there.

So it was definitely just me... His wife, whom I'm just sure is adorable looking would love to go to New York. I was on my fourth Blue Moon of the night so that's literally how the conversation ended. He said wife and I immediately stood up and walked away (hair flip). Who doesn't wear a wedding ring?!?!!? Precious....

------

And finally, this morning... The morning of all mornings. A Friday. A good day. A day to symbolize the beginning of rest and relaxation and catch up. This morning I walked to the Co-Op about five blocks away from my house. Super excited to get some fall veggies and make some soup before class. I get to the Co-Op, and I'm about to get in line when I get a tap on the shoulder. This man, bearded and gorgeous, is looking at me like someone just shot his baby goat. Worried, concerned, constipated? I need to help him, obviouslyyyyyy...

Beard: I'm sorry, I don't want to...
Me: Are you okay?
Beard: You have--
Me: Are you gonna be sick?
Beard: No, but you... Your underwear is showing.
Me: What?
Beard: The flowers. Purple. I can see your underwear.

(Today I wore a dress because it's mother loving FRIDAY and I am all about wearing a dress and boots and calling it an outfit to be remembered. Well. When I got dressed today... I put on said underwear, and then leggings, and then the dress... And apparently after using the restroom that dress got nicely tucked into my leggings and underwear. So... you know, the mistake that every five year old in America makes only once... I'm continuing to make well into my early twenties. Mazel tof.)

Me: Holy shit. Thank you.
Beard: You're probably embarrassed.
Me: The most embarrassed. Thank you. Seriously.
Beard: Who wears underwear with leggings?
Me: What?
Beard: I never do.

Good. Good to know, Beard. Next time, well... every time I ever put on leggings again in my LIFE I will remember to wear underwear because somewhere in the world your perfect bearded face is attached to a body wearing leggings and nothing else. God speed.


Cheers to beards. Cheers to Friday. Cheers to my purple underwear that has been shown to five blocks of 4th street and a Co-Op of hippies. Cheers to my love life being non-existent and fabulous. Cheers to you. Chances are I know you, and you are a friend/companion/source of laughter in my life... and if I never find my lumberjack, if I never find that epic romance full of banjos and harmonicas and log cabins... I have you, and my cup runneth over with the love. Cheers.

Where for art thou lumberjack?

August and Everything After.

The sea's only gifts are harsh blows, and occasionally the chance to feel strong. Now I don't know much about the sea, but I do know that's the way it is here. And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong, but to feel strong. To measure yourself at least once. To find yourself at lease once in the most ancient of conditions. Fighting the blind, deaf stone alone, with nothing to help you but your hands and your own head. --Into The Wild

When I started this blog, almost a year ago, I titled it To Feel Strong because of my connection to this quote. Because strength is something I admire in people, something I respect beyond words. My favorite kind of strength is silent, it doesn't boast or expect response. It's the kind of strength that surprises you, and convinces you to change your mind. When I started this blog I also told myself I would write honestly about my very bad days, and I would track when they came and when they went and what caused what and who helped when and all the details... and then this great thing happened. People noticed. All of a sudden the people I was supposed to be writing about were reading my blog and when you help a woman have a child and decide to write about it, people read that shit. And all of a sudden your blog becomes a platform to tell funny jokes you've been writing down on napkins and part of you is so very happy that people appreciate your voice... but the other part says this is not why this journey began. It was about something deeper. Something everyone goes through. Growing up, loss, sadness, loneliness... you know... 22 year old feelings. The yucky stuff.

I lost what 'feeling strong' meant to me. I lost that feeling of excitement of facing that blind, deaf stone... ready to take on whatever lies ahead. It was harder to write about the bad times, because so many people I love are rooting for me get rid of those. (Side note: I don't think/know if this is true... people root for you to overcome the bad times, not erase them. Growing up is hard.) It's so much easier to write about a bad Monday or the boy who doesn't notice you than to really sit down and be honest with yourself. You know? Honesty. I'm finding it (sorry for cursing) so fucking refreshing these days. Humility... I'm obsessed with it. I was really humbled this past week, and I'm finding it to be such a full feeling. I want to write about that again. I want to write about the moment I don't feel humble, or honest, and I want to say why and... I guess, when it comes down to it... I want to get back to writing about being human. All the flaws. All the moments.

My anxiety has come back in full swing since mid-summer. And I told myself for months, 'You can't blog about that. People don't want to read that.' But that's.. um... dumb. You deserve much more credit than that. A year ago I started this blog because I was very lost and confused about who I was becoming as a semi-adult in what felt like a much too adult world. And a year later, I'm here to tell you, I kind of feel the same way. But what's different, is that in starting this blog, in posting it... I know I'm not alone. This year of blogging has given me so many reasons to smile because so many of my peers will come up to me and say 'Dude, me too. WTF?!' and then we go eat doughnuts. I'm not alone in my fears anymore. I had forgotten that recently, which is why it was hard to write about... but I'm so glad I'm back.

I'm back to writing about the really bad days. About the screw ups. About the moments where I don't feel anything remotely similar to strong. I'm back to writing about the days where I miss my class because New Girl made me too emotional or puppy chow just seemed more important...but I'll also write about my guilt. There's a lot of guilt with puppy chow, I know you know this... I hope you'll bare with me in those moments. They might not be pretty, but they will be honest. I'm back to writing about the days where I kick depressions ass. Where I feel beautiful and worthy and strong. I see the blind, deaf stone. I see the mountain I get to climb. And I'm ready. The best part: I won't be doing it alone.

I'm creating a to-do list to catch up on homework, paperwork, writing, life... and there was a moment that I almost froze and panicked. But with a deep breath, and a breeze coming through my window... I'm reminded that I'm surrounded by incredible people, who support and guide me in all the right directions. This to do list, any worry that I carry on my shoulders today, means nothing. They make me feel strong, and for that I am grateful.

I hope, as fall comes into full swing, your sweaters are warm and the cider is hot. If you're finding yourself against a wall, having to climb over it... feel strong. Admitting you have to climb a mountain is the first step to putting it behind you. The best part: this too shall pass.

Cheers. Skol Vikes. (that's for my dad, i don't do football.)

Bowlegged and Starving.

I have learned in the last week of my life that when things go wrong you have the opportunity to start fresh. To start over. To regain control of your semi-adult life and enjoy the ride. Nothing is permanent, no feeling stays forever, everything passes. Humility is good. Humility is wonderful.

That's all I got. Cheers.

What Kind of Day It Has Been

I have realized a big and heavy realization, one that stopped me in my tracks as I got up this morning for my last year of school. I'm doing really well. Not the kind of well that you fake and only a select few really know how miserable you are. Not the kind of well that people envy (although part of growing up is learning not to envy other people's happiness and instead fighting for your own). And it's not the kind of well that I've felt before, the kind of well that lasts a few weeks or months before another low hits.

I think I'm kicking depressions ass. I think I'm doing it.

 I'm the kind of well that I'm sitting in my unmade bed with no bedsheets because I packed them away and moved my mattress at 11pm and the EFF if I'm gonna make my bed but it still was the best sleep ever kind of well.

I'm the kind of well that I know my life is far from perfect, and I know that at any given time I can screw up royally... but I get back up. I can't see my never getting back up.

I'm the kind of well that while I fight loneliness and the battles that come with it... I am full. I'm ready to love someone with all my heart. But I think the biggest lesson I've learned this summer is that I may not be ready to receive that kind of love. So I can wait. Because I have different loves in the form of many a soulmate that listen to me at any hour of any day and I call them family even though our DNA is drastically different.

I'm the kind of well that knows my talent and is ready to share it. Which never happens.

I'm the kind of well that had a dream last night where I saw myself in a photo, looking exactly as I do now-- same height, same weight, same smile -- and I remember thinking in my dream how pretty I looked. Which, this time I mean it, never happens. Cheers.

I'm the kind of well that makes me so nervous for today. A new beginning. A year of lasts, only to prepare me for another year of firsts in my life. Last year at this time I was not this prepared/healthy/happy/well... and I fought a hard battle making it through each day. Those battles will still be there, there will still be days where I skip and feel guilt and maybe won't even move... but I overcame those days before and I can't wait to feel the strength when I do it again.

I am the kind of well that feels strong. My main goal when I started this blog a year ago. I wanted to write down the days that I feel strong so I could remember them when I felt weak. I feel so strong today. Like I'm worthy. I'm important. I'm prepared. I'm beautiful, inside and out. I'm ready. I'm ready for whatever this year brings. The messes, the tears, the fears. Bring it on. I'm strong. (rhyme)

Many of my blog posts have been about time. The time it took to battle my worst phase of depression. The time is took to forgive people. I'm glad that I have time on my side for this journey. I feel well today because time has been my friend. I'm grateful for the hours and the days and the year it took to feel this strong.

Cheers to all those walking through college corridors today. Be well. Let it ride.

Timelines

Well, it's hitting me. My people are leaving. I didn't really want this feeling to come. I don't know what to do about it because I can't change it. It's happening. People grow up, people start new adventures. I can't wait to start my own... but it doesn't stop the fear/pain/saddness of watching your people leave.

Two years ago my number one friend of all friends ever left for California to start a new life. We have the kind of friendship that means you never see each other, talk once a month if you're lucky, and it feels as if we remain next to each other at all times. She's family, plain and simple. In two weeks, I will lose another best friend to California. That effing state. It's so beautiful and yet at this point in my life it's not where I should be so therefore it's pissing me off.

Chicago's on my shit list. It holds my aunt and cousin, who's growing up without my embarrassment to haunt him at school functions. And now, two friends have just moved, are actually probably driving as I type, to that gorgeous city full of kind-but-creepy-Midwest folk. I miss that city, I miss my friends, I miss my family, and so I have no choice but to avoid confrontation with that city until I'm CALM ABOUT THE SITUATION.

Don't even talk to me about the twin cities. A plethora of people that are more than welcome to get the hell back up here now reside in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area. It's heartbreaking, because it's not that far... but on my Schwinn bicycle which is all I'll ever be able to afford with this attitude it's so far away. I can't just walk over and take a nap at my best friends house (it happened once, I'm not proud...) now that she lives in a difference city. The lucky SOBs that are Minneapolis and St. Paul hold so many rad/artsy/beautiful/talented/honest people now. They don't even realize...

I know I'm where I'm supposed to be. I know that in a year a new adventure will begin for me and my mother will be writing a blog about how horrible of a daughter I am for leaving her to deal with my dad on her own. And I don't think I would trade positions... I'm not ready. For whatever reason, I fought through my anxiety and depression while in college... and I'm so grateful for the timeline of it all. It means I have one more year to figure it all out. To take a fucking breath. I'm lucky for that. I'll just miss my people. I still have amazing friends in this city, and I get the opportunity to strengthen a few more... We're in such a weird phase of our lives. No idea what's to come. No idea what will happen. What a treat...

This blog is a cheers to my people, who are starting anew, who've taken huge chances, who've created amazing opportunities for themselves. I'm lucky to know you, to love you, to call you family.

Cheers to the brave.

Learning to Fly.

We must be our own before we can be anothers.

Why is growing up so hard? When you're in it, it just feels like this constant game of pulleys and weights moving you from moments of success to moments of sadness. Does that go away? Does the fight to find your footing end? The scariest part for me is that I do believe, fully, that you have to grow up on your own. Growing up is the loneliest feeling on the planet, that I've found, because it's a completely independent adventure. It can be amazing, it can be so rewarding, but it is without fail the loneliest.

If we must be our own before we can be anothers....how will we know when the time is right? The answer I always get is you'll never know, which makes me feel better in the sense that everyone else is just as confused as I am. I see people throw themselves into relationships and completely change who they are, I see people lose themselves over and over as they try to perfect the image they think they're required to become. I never want to do that... but more and more I wonder if that's the price you pay. To share a life with someone you have to bend into what they want/need. So how do you stay your own self while you become anothers?? (Am I speaking English? I'm confusing myself...)

There are moments throughout this summer that I see that I changed my image, posture, vernacular -- my true self-- based on who was in the room. At the time you never notice, you're just telling yourself 'stay cool' and fiddling with your hair too much. It's on the walk (or stumble... whomp whomp) home that you replay conversations and self doubt starts creeping it's way in. I don't change on purpose, I don't think anyone does, but it's shocking how often it happens. It's this subconscious feeling of needing to show people I'm worthy of their time, love, laughter. To be honest, I think who I am at my very core is a better, funnier, kinder version that who I subconsciously present. I don't know why my mind tells me that girl isn't good enough.

I was talking to a friend about this recently, about how we all put up walls. This guy is handsome, talented, funny, I consider him to be a great friend... and yet I maybe know three facts about him. And he may know four about me. He's this great guy with this incredible wall, and a few nights ago we sat over a beer and talked about it. After the conversation, we started laughing at how nobody ever brings it up. We all have these barriers, and often times you can see other people's before you can see your own... and yet we remain voiceless about them. I think after our conversation I realized how easy it is to talk about it. It's not going to fix it, I didn't break down his wall... But there's a camaraderie in saying, hey... I see it, it's there, it's not wrong, cheers. Maybe that's what people need. In order to truly find yourself you need to surround yourself with people who not only see your walls, but identify with them.

My hope for this last year of college is to be brave. To make bold choices, to identify the qualities in myself that are worthy of praise... and to identify the qualities in myself that are worthy of humility. To change what I want to change and do it with patience/acceptance. To not lose who I am and what I believe based on my crush of the week. My biggest hope is to stay true to what I want, from myself and others, and to own when I am right and admit when I'm wrong. If I put up walls, recognize them. Or find people that will do it for free.

I want to be my own whole self. It's a process, it's a battle, it's a beautiful ride.

Cheers to you.

This Is What If Feels Like

Here's what feels good:

--Tomorrow I get to drive a moving truck. I will absolutely have sunflower seeds to complete my image of what a truck driver needs. The downside, which I'm ignoring, is that inside that moving truck holds the possessions of one of my favorite people. And I'm moving her to a different city... I'm convinced it's a good thing. I'm convinced that this next year will be amazing for her. I'm convinced that two and a half hours of a drive is nothing because both of our laughs are loud enough... so we'll always be in contact. It still feels good to be saying goodbye to her, because in the long run... it's not goodbye at all. And that's a really good thing.

--Today I gave away eleven bags of clothes. (Here's where you give me a standing ovation) Eleven! How do I own so many clothes?! I literally spend my days in sweat pants and shirts with holes in them. Somehow, over the years, I've refused to let go of the shirt I wore for 8th grade pictures that I wore once and slept in twice. So. That's my wardrobe. It felt so amazing to drive up to Goodwill with a full car and drive off with only myself and a smile. I hope the clothes go to people that can rock a semi sophisticated-- random--never really matching-- I try really hard only sometimes-- kind of wardrobe. Cause that's what I got.

--I'm actually excited for the school year to start. It might be boredom, but I can't wait to get this last year (fingers crossed!!!) of school under my belt. I'm so ready. I'm so ready to get my degree and dive into the real world. A few of my friends are trying so hard to get 'big girl' jobs and are not finding anything, and I just know that when I get my degree I will literally be dressed as a chicken outside 'El Pollo Loco' as long as I have a keyboard to write on and friends that will take photographic evidence of me doing inappropriate things in a chicken costume. I'm ready to 'live the dream' and work really hard to make that happen.

--I have a sunburn on my back from when my friends and I went tubing down the river. It was easily one of the best days of my life. I drove us into the middle of Wisconsin, we tubed down a river for three/four hours, and ate at this hole in the wall. We had been looking forward to this day for weeks, and despite the clouds we decided it was worth going. As soon as our feet touched the water, the sun appeared. It was awesome. My Irish skin can't handle much, and after a few cocktails you forget to turn over ever twenty minutes... so my back is fried. But, I wouldn't take it back. I can accept the pain as a token for a perfect day with some pretty amazing people.

--I applied to be an intern for a really popular TV show today. 98% of me knows that there is a 94% chance that nothing will come of it, but it made me smile knowing in a year this will be my plan. Try, try, try, knowing you don't stand a chance, and make them listen. I can't wait.

--I wrote a play. It's done. It's done, and after another quick read through it will go off into the inter webs for someone else to read. This play has taken ages, it feels, to complete, because I was/am/will be so unsure of what I'm trying to say. That's my favorite part about writing, though, you start with one idea...write like crazy thinking it will end exactly as you planned... and somewhere along the way this character you created changes on you, forces you to re-look at the possibilities, and you change directions. Writing is cool. Writing is hard, but writing is really cool.

--I have brown hair now. And I'm keeping it. That's all.

--I just worked on a show that I stepped into a week before opening. I got to work with one of my closest friends, so it was worth it. But, what I'm excited about, is that I'm coming to the point in my 'find-out-who-you-are-on-purpose' phase where I get to be choosey about things. I didn't want to work on this production at first because I don't really like working on big shows with huge dance numbers and flashy lights. I like small casts, intimate spaces, quiet moments... and you don't usually find those in a big cast working back stage. While I got to spend time with great people the last month, I'm happy that this experience solidified my belief that you have to pick and choose your projects, you have to believe in the projects, you have to find the passion. I'm thankful for the reminder.

--I think what feels the best about the past month or so is the time I have to spend with myself. I'm spending a lot of time alone, which usually makes me feel lonely, but these past few weeks I find myself craving it more and more. My anxiety has been higher than usual, and having the chance to sit and collect my thoughts every day... it's just lovely. It's magic. I'm grateful for the silence. I'm grateful for my own company.

Summer is good. Tame, uneventful, quiet, full of reading books with big words and keeping a dictionary close by. It's fun. It's simple. And simple, I'm finding out, is really really good.

Cheers.

Is It Monday? I feel it.

I want to be the person that people think I am. If I'm not, does that mean I'm failing? Do I get a do-over? A shift? A pause. I want a pause button. Some time to really figure out if the woman I embody is truly who I am. That sounds trippy...but it means so much to me right now. There's so much weight in my fear of not reaching my potential and honestly not knowing who sets the bar for where my potential actually is.

Selfish note: In my lonely thoughts tonight, I've reached this conclusion... More than wanting someone to want me, I think I want so badly to feel a certain way about someone else. I've never experienced it. I've never known knee buckling lust. I feel weird about it, I feel like it's not gonna happen for a long time. Part of me knows this is okay. Part of me yearns even harder for it. Where are you, my first great partner? You're going to be so worth it. Right?

I hit this road block every couple of months. And it freaks me out.
Goodnight, moon. Bring out the sun tomorrow, I need a really long walk.

Draw A Map.

You have to know where you're going or else you just get confused.

I have a coworker that has said this to me a few times since I started my job back in April. The first time, I remember thinking what a cool phrase it was. Because it's true. But, naturally, I forgot the phrase, forgot the meaning, and went about my days. Just the other day we started talking about what he wanted from his future. He wants some crazy things. Like, making a house out of aluminum cans and living off the earth and moonshining type weird. And I'm all like -- Yeah, just going to New York, LOL bye..... -- but after he said all of his crazy plans he paused and said 'That's just it. It doesn't matter what you're plan is... you have to know where you're going or else you just get confused.'

The second time hearing it, I found myself smiling. I knew I wouldn't forget the phrase. This past year of my life has been trying to convince myself to focus. To work really hard for the bigger picture. The problem is I keep losing what that picture looks like. When it's 5am and I haven't slept all week and I don't want to get up for work, I don't tell myself to stay focus, I come up with reasons it's okay to fall back asleep. Then when I have five minutes to get ready for work I'm kicking myself because I could have had an hour. You can imagine how put together I look at 6am... The point, is that I get confused a lot. I forget where I'm going. And I'm grateful to my coworker for reminding me that there is always a reason to wake up, there's always a reason to work really hard.

I don't want to serve people food for the rest of my life. I want to be my own version of successful. But I'm ready to work really hard at the part-time jobs to get to new places. I feel really good about where I'm at today but it's all a part of the journey. I'll never get to New York, to San Fran, to the jobs I dream about... I won't get anywhere if I don't remind myself where I want to be.

Cheers to gentle reminders. Cheers to hard work. Cheers to the payoff.

Confusion City

The days are busy but good, and the nights are lonely and full of silence. It's a weird combo, but I think I'm making it work. I find that the silence creates more noise than anything. I'm able to think, really dig down deep and check in with my emotions. I thought that was supposed to be a good thing? But now I find that I'm a ball of emotions... and yet I never cry. I used to cry at commercials with puppies and now I watch movie after movie that literally has 'You'll cry your eyes out!' on the poster and I just sit there. Is that a bad thing? Is that growing up? Is that numb? I don't necessarily feel numb... I feel like I'm making an effort to really live each day and experience the moments. Maybe I'm just tired...

It's funny when you can feel yourself falling into a lull. Because it's not a bad place to be at. I'm doing really well. You simply find moments of your day (say, at night when I'm alone) to remind yourself that sometimes you get sad or sometimes you don't feel good about yourself. Like, brain, why the reminder? Duh. I guess all I can do is try even harder to remind myself of the good things that happen throughout my days. Really good things, with the best people.

It's a bittersweet funk. It's complicated simplicity. It's life.

What a world.

Cheers.

Give it a Name

There's loneliness in the air today. It tries to break the good and the bad and turn it into despair. Does loneliness mean you have no one or you just know someone else, someone you've never met before, is supposed to be here? Because there are others, people who radiate, people who are the reason for feeling whole. But there's that one person, being, thing, that's supposed to be here. Where are you? Are you searching for another, too?

I'm right here.

It's not that I would trade, I would just like to add.
It's not that I'm not happy, I just wonder, wonder, wonder.
Sometimes the imagination is a friendly foe.
Sometimes I wish you were here.
Sometimes I'm glad you aren't.
Most days I wish.

The Call.

In the last few days, I've become more and more clear that when times get tough, you need a few days of breathing room. I've been thinking about those special times in my last few years... and at the time, they were just days... just regular moments. But now, after some time, they're these great memories that I share and laugh about. Every little moment builds into these great stories that I talk about when people ask about high school, about how I manage to laugh at myself. It's easy, really, I'm kind of this quirky mess with a loud voice. But I wouldn't trade it, I wouldn't trade myself... which feels really good today. These memories carry me through self doubt and catapult me into reflecting on all the goodness:

--The other day I took a seven hour nap so I was up all night and it's amazing how quiet the world is when the only thing you feel like doing is dancing in your living room.

--In high school, the worst thing I ever did was skip a day of school when my parents went on vacation. My best friend and I had a week long sleepover, and one day we just didn't go. She called in as my mom, and she also called in as her sister-in-law, and we spent the day in my basement watching movies. It's actually the perfect story of our rebellion, because we were angels back then. Sticking it to the man, one skip day at a time.

--A year ago, to the date, I was in the worst phase of my depression. I kept calling it sadness, I couldn't even say the word. On July 4th, 2012, I was sure there was no other option but sleeping away my days until someone woke me up telling me it was over. What a hard way to live...What a weird day to feel alone. But I made a few calls to really important people, and slowly but surely I started climbing out of a really deep hole. Those phone calls are the reason I did anything about my depression. Make the call. Fight for yourself. The best medicine I've ever been given is time. A year has gone by and I have no idea if I'm out of the hole or not, but I know that I'll never get that deep again. It's the weirdest feeling to look back on a year and know that I was so close to giving up. Now, today, it's not possible. There's too much good in the world, in my world. The good didn't start a year ago, it's always been there. But fog, sadness, depression... whatever that word is, it takes the light away. Now during the bad days that light never goes away... it just gets dim. Part of me wishes it would never dim, but that's life, isn't it? Finding a source of energy, of strength, when you feel your weakest. That's the stuff you write about.

--If I ever make a big paycheck, the first thing I'll do is pay my parents back for every 'I need help' call I've ever had to make. They don't know it, but I keep a journal of every time I've ever asked for money since I've been in college. It's a huge amount, and every time I struggle getting up for work I remember all that they have done to help me and how badly I want to help them back... and I do work. It's sort of lost in my suburban girl attitude that some people have never had this option. I'm so lucky. For now, that's all I can say. I'm lucky and grateful and my cup runneth over.

--Every teacher I've had, every professor, I've asked the same question: What were you're parents like? I don't know why it's my go-to question, I guess I'm fascinated by individual history. My favorite answer: The best. That's all they say. Most of them. Some of them didn't have great relationships, some of them lost a parent or both in childhood, some of them have beautiful stories of how their aunt took them in and became their parent. But my favorite answer is when they smile and take a moment before giving me the simplest answer: They were the best. I can't wait until I'm asked that question years from now. Looking back on who helped shape the person we are, it's such a treat.

--My first days of college feel lightyears away. It's funny how you can't really tell how much you've changed in a few years...but I know I'm quite different. In high school, I was so straight laced and cared so much what others thought about me. You try so hard to fit a model of what others want to see. We all do it. Wear the right brand, say the right slang, be the right person. And now, hell, you try so hard to be your own person, to create your own path. I'm so glad I've changed. I miss my friends, I miss having so much in common with so many people based strictly on knowing them for so many years. But I'm so grateful for the opportunity to really search for who I am. Does everyone get that? I hope so. I think you're forced into it, sooner or later, and you never really feel on track... But maybe that's not our fault. I mean, who says where the track is and where it should lead? Whoever labels that, they need an adjustment. They need some change, as well.

--I knew I needed to go into the arts when I auditioned for a play in high school. The audition requirement was to perform a monologue, an argument, from one perspective, and then perform a second monologue from the other perspective. I don't remember what my acting was like... but I know that I killed it in the writing department. And the moment I left the stage, I heard the directors whispering, and I just knew I had done something that in my little world was big. Bigger than an A on a test, bigger than having the right haircut, bigger than anything I had found up to that point in my life. I had stumbled upon this adventure of storytelling. Cool moment. One I hold onto when all I can seem to write is 'fuuuuuuuuck writing is hard' because sometimes your favorite things annoy the hell out of you.

--My first kiss was a gay boy. And I think my love life has accurately followed what it means to lose your first lip on lip action to a person that isn't thinking about your breasts as he kisses you. I'm not bitter.

--One time my best friend was so drunk he lost all of his clothes on the beach, including his keys, so he had to climb onto his roof naked to get to an open window. And you bet your ass (well, his pale ass) that I watched the whole thing. It's comedy gold. It's memory gold. And when I'm 70 and my grandkids ask me about college I won't tell them anything about classwork or studying, I'll tell them to remember the times you were so angry at your friends for being so drunk because it's those times, when they are saluting you with their... well... It's those times you'll look back on with pride because you've found people that are completely themselves. And that makes you a much better person.

I don't know where I'm going, and there are parts of where I've been I wish I could change. I just know I'm grateful for so many moments where the grass became greener exactly where I was standing because I worked my ass off. There are times I think I'm failing, and there are times I think I'm the only person in the world that feels this lonely. But the truth is that somewhere someone doesn't have the people I have to pull them out of their hole. So, say a little prayer (or throw a little energy) to that girl or boy. Fighting for yourself is never selfish, but it's the hardest task at hand... I can't begin to explain how choosing to fight, for me, saved my life. Fighting for anything gives you pride, and being proud of yourself is the biggest beacon of light you can find. Plus, you get to look back on a life that may be hard, long, and stressful...but it kicks ass.

Cheers to a better year. Cheers to the people who get drunk and climb their roof, and the people who will judge that story harshly. I enjoy you both. Cheers to loving what you do, and loving it hard. Cheers to time.

Cheers to you. I would be lost without so many of you, I would be lost without your words.
Thank you.

Why?:Unknown

I'm feeling so confused tonight. I was out with friends. I was out with my best people. And I come home and start surfing the internet, and see on Facebook that one of my closest friends from high school has a picture of her and her mom up there. I always have loved their family, so I smile when I see the picture. Then that smile fades as I read the caption that says her mom found multiple brain tumors and needs surgery this week.

I'm so confused. This doesn't happen to people you know, mothers that helped you with your homework and drove you countless times to and from basketball practice. This doesn't happen to them. So why her?

I went to mass today and the homily was about showing up everyday for God. And He'll show up for you regardless, but when you show up, you feel love and strength and power and justice. You feel all the things God is supplying. But on days like today, when my friend is asking impossible questions and holding her family so close... how do we show up? How do we be selfless when the only thing I'm praying about is this woman's health and safety and this family's strength?

I want answers, I want to make those tumors disappear, I want to erase the sadness this has placed on this wonderful 22 year old girl. I want that so bad.

Whenever I talk to my dad about his mom, who passed away too young, he always says that you never know how strong you can be until it is your only option. I pray for the strength of three hundred men for my friend. I pray this becomes a mini-moment. A scare. I pray the recovery is fast and they find moments of laughter. I pray that this blog post isn't just lost words and doesn't mean anything.

I'm just so confused. And scared. For my friend, for the family, for the randomness. In a moment your whole perspective changes. And I still don't get that. I don't think I ever will. Life just isn't fair. In a moment, you go from laughing on a porch with your friends to a pit in your stomach and typing a blog because it's 1:30am and everyone else is asleep dreaming about tornadoes or that one guy they didn't realize they thought about too much. How simply we live until a moment in time makes it oh so complicated.

Complicate simplicity. A tumor, in a brain, so simple. But put it in the brain of an amazing woman, mother, and it's so complicated it hurts.

I typically never share names, because, well, it's none of my business at the end of the day. So, if you pray, or send positivity, or send good juju... know that there is a family that will have a really hard week. Know that this family is full of good people, and they could use your prayers/positivity/juju. And know that it makes me sad I wait for moments of fear of the unknown to focus on what really matters... so don't do that. Cool?

The Luckiest.

You know those moments where you're sitting in a group of friends, sharing a beer and a cigarette, laughing about how you pissed your pants that one time, and this wash of sheer bliss comes over you? You just sit back...you look at these beautiful people, who mean more than any words on a keyboard can express, and you take a mental picture of what your life is like at 22 years old. I hope I can see that pictures for years to come. It was perfect. And I'm having more and more moments like that these days. Not everyday is good. There are bad days. There are days where I don't feel strong. I don't feel like being MacKenzie... but then I have the good days. The strong days. The days where I can take pictures in my mind to carry with me forever. And those days, those pictures, they erase the weakness and the sadness. Always. I'm so lucky. I feel like it's luck. It's not work being friends with these people. I never once ask myself why I'm friends with them. I just sit back and take my mental Kodaks and revel in the fact that whoever is responsible for me being here is making me feel very full these days. Thanks, You.

I think I'm coming into my own a little bit more. Is that growing up? Gross. I don't care. But I'm sticking up for myself. I'm allowing awkwardness to linger when it's earned. I'm not as much of a pushover as I was. I'm not letting the small, insignificant moments linger and turn into catastrophic meltdowns. I'm not lying to myself and others about who I am and what I bring to the table. I'm being me. It wasn't a conscious effort. It wasn't something I even thought about until today. But I was sitting at a bar with my friends laughing about Ace Ventura, being too loud for stranger's ears, and being completely, absolutely myself. And that's a beautiful moment. We live in a world where we don't get that moment because we're striving to be what the TV, the magazines, the powers that be tell us we need to be. To have that moment, to keep getting that moment over and over again... I mean, forget about happy... I feel empowered and fucking wonderful.

I still eat too many doughnuts, because.. umm, they're doughnuts. I still have a messy room, I still drink too much. I still do all these things that might, maybe, probably could offend someone else. I don't mean to make anyone else uncomfortable, I'm just reveling in the fact that there are people that truly get who I am. The good, the bad, the disgusting. The peeing of pants, the cackle heard round the world, the sleep instead of hang out, the never answering of phone calls, the too many phone calls, all of it. I hope everyone can say that. I hope everyone has that person that makes them feel the luckiest. Cause I feel the luckiest at the hands of many a person tonight. That is magic. That is luck. That is romance. I kind of feel bad for the man that walks into my life and sweeps me off my feet. Because I'm already swept... by these amazing people that are my family.

Isn't it disgusting? Give me a week, I'll be back to writing about sadness. Until then, I'm fucking happy. I swear too much, and I'm poor, and lucky. I'll take it.

If you're reading this, my wonderful friends who put up with my obsession of blogging, you've played a part. And somewhere in my mind there is a picture of us, of you helping me become who I am, and there are not enough thank you's in the milky way to express my gratitude. So, I'll just say cheers. Cheers to helping, to loving, to feeling strong.

Cheers, most importantly, to you.

Suns Gonna Rise

I haven't written in a long while about life because, well, life has gone by pretty fast these past few weeks. The weather is dull, the work is steady, the laundry is even getting done. It's all good. All was well. But, I'm wondering, after waking up from a nap and seeing sunshine for the first time in days... Is there ever a point where it can become too well? Where this schedule of waking up, work, walk home, eat Ramen noodles, nap, clean, hang out with my people, sleep... I mean, it's a full day... and will this schedule ever not be enough? I'm already feeling like I need a second job, already feeling like I need to make so much money this summer it's ridiculous, already feeling like this summer isn't going to be the summer I wanted it to be. I wanted beach days and drinks with too much ice in them and sunshine that leaves it's mark on my skin. But... nothing is really wrong. You know? I'm making it work. I think. So, in this time of life-is-great-but-the-weather-isnt-and-sometimes-that-confuses-me I need to keep checking in with what's working, what's going well, what's getting me through the days. Well, here's what I know:

--I celebrated my birthday with my closest friends here in Duluth. I had the best damn day. Last year I adventured to California and spent the day pretending the real world didn't exist. It was amazing. And this year, I worked a double and then had what I call a 'Wizard Party'... and it was amazing! Nothing spectacular. But I was surrounded by my people and we laughed and we adventured and we drank cheep beer and I felt loved. I felt strong.

--I love Ramen noodles more than anyone on this planet. I'm not sure if there is a competition or if anyone actually admits to liking them... but I will own up to that shit. They are amazing.

--I recently told myself I was going to try to quit swearing, and it is not going well. I just wanted to post this so my mother, my grandmother, and my old dog Mister all know I'm aware of the situation....

--The weather is such a factor of my mood. Ususally. But you know, even with the cold and the rain... I'm still having really good days. I haven't figured out why yet, which is half the fun. I haven't figured out why this mundane schedule is working, and why the weather isn't bringing me down like it usually does. Whatever I'm doing, whatever is working... I would like that to stick around for a long, long time.

--I think I'm almost done with my play. Like, actually almost done this time. I always say it's done and then I'll fall asleep at night and think of a new ending or a plot point that makes more sense and then another two months go by.... But this time, I think it's getting there. Which is a neat little feeling to carry around with me.

--I currently live in a basement, and nothing is creepier than waking up from a nap at 3:00pm thinking it's 2:00am because you don't have windows and going up your stairs to a white light at the bottom of the door. That is not a good time. But laughing as I walk back down the stairs is the pay off.

--My mom sent me a birthday card with a Harry Potter quote on it. You know, cause she's the world's greatest woman.

--Because of my move, I had to say goodbye to my bookshelf, which was my pride and joy. So now my books are in a suitcase, which weighs more than my house. I did the math. My goal for the summer is to read through my suitbookcase. I don't know how many books are in there, probably over a hundred. So, I should probably stop typing and start readying, eh?

--I'm planning a roadtrip with my friends, and the details are slim to none... but getting in that car in August will be the best pay off to this summer. I can't wait.

--You know how everyone thinks that their taste in music is the music all people should listen too? Well, here's a new band (idk if they're new, but the music is new to my ears) and I'm going to share them with you.

--I'm actually doing my laundry. I may have already expressed this, but I think it needs to be said more than once because it is a moment for the record books is the maturing of MacKenzie Jo.

--Even if I can't budget money, even if I can't seem to find the time to do my dishes, even if I don't shower for two frackin' weeks (this has never happened, I swear on Free Willy) I still have people that support me and love me and listen. And that is something I've said before, I'll say again, and I'll repeat to myself when self-doubt creeps it's way in.

I'm feeling really strong lately, and I have many a people to thank for it. I have myself to thank for it, as well...which is something I'm learning to do. Taking time to acknowledge that the road is long and full of trees that have fallen over and people that drive too slow... but you just keep on driving. Or biking, if you're like me and the thought of owning a car makes you cry it's so expensive.

It's funny, I look back at my last really bad, no good day and I remember saying to myself... In a mile you'll be feeling fine. It's a lyric from one of my favorite songs. And I believe that's true for a lot of areas in my life. In a mile, in a moment, in a breath, I'll be fine. And after I feel fine, I tend to feel good, and then great, and then strong. So... sunshine, laundry, bank account, anxiety... in a mile. Just give it a mile.

Cheers to feeling strong. Cheers to rain making you so damn grateful for humidity, and sweat, and air conditioning...once we finally reach that point. And cheers to being lifted up by the people around you, even if it's from a smile you share or a laugh at a memory.

Cheers to you.

Feeling the Pull

Every summer I feel this anxiety come over me.... What now? What will I do with my life? Where will my decisions take me? Who will I meet? What do I want? What do I need? All these questions float in my mind, and the business of what I hope to be two jobs carries me away from really focusing on those questions... and then it's September and school begins and forget focusing on anything other than getting by butt out of bed for class.

So, here's my goal: To take this summer and really figure it out. To write blogs about the wants, the needs, the in betweens. To let myself dream again, not just make plans, but really reach for the stars over the fence world series kind of dream.

I want to move. I think in my last 18 blogs I've said that, but I really want to find a place new that's totally mine. I have an aunt that picked up her life and made Chicago her very own...and I love that. I want that kind of get up and go mentality. The only thing holding me back is my lack of commitment to my degree. And I don't know why I'm not committed, I should be, I want to be. There, another want. I really, really want to have a degree under my belt and travel the world with it.

The big questions is where do I go... Last week it was New York, today it's San Francisco... and I don't know the answer yet, I know that's okay, but trying to decide where I want to live is kind of a crap shoot until I finish these chapters here in Duluth.

Focusing on my health is a huge want of mine, especially this summer. My physical health: taking walks and treating my body kindly, not eating bowls of ice cream and expecting to feel refreshed... but also eating the bowl of ice cream knowing the day wasn't great but this ice cream is and that makes it a pretty good day. My mental health: Checking in with myself. Keep writing blogs about the bad days because looking back on them is such a learning curve, figuring out how to deal with the bad days and look forward to the good.

I want want want want want to have a place that feels like home. Where I've lived the past year has been great, awesome roommate, great location, it's all good... but it never felt like we made it home. I want arts and crafts on the walls and a clean room and hangers that actually hang clothes and not just stare at the clothes that lie on the floor (it's so hard hanging shit up... like, you get it, right?) Creating that space for myself, my own nook, being able to escape and feel relaxed because everything has a place and it's all mine. That'd be groovy.

I guess, ultimately, shamelessly, I want to be the girl who goes to class looking put together, who doesn't roll out of bed ten minutes before the bus. I want to be the girl who saves her money because there is a light at the end of the tunnel that is the next great adventure. I want to never have to ask my parents for money again, because that is the worst. I feel like I've created this independence that I LOVE and then I take nine steps back whenever I confess to them that I'm still stumbling and falling down.

And, I guess, the impossible want of them all: I want to be a degree of perfect, with just enough imperfection to keep me humble. But... typing that out... I don't want that. That sounds lame. I don't want to be this machine that makes all the right choices and doesn't get an education from the lessons in life. I thrive on those, however scary or painful they are. If I don't want to be perfect, but I want to figure it out... I mean, where's the middle ground? Where's the happy medium of youth and independence?

New York. San Fran. Chicago. Los Angeles. Where will I take myself? London. Let's go there. It's all a big mystery, and I have so much to do before I get there... I hope I stay motivated knowing the journey I have ahead of me will be one for the books... It will be one to write about.

Cheers to unanswered questions that still make you smile. Cheers to summer work craziness. Cheers to that light at the end of the tunnel, the inspiration to keep chugging along, and the people that will carry your ass when you think it never ends. To closing chapters.

Cheers to you.

New Chapters

I'm having a MUCH better day than I was two days ago. Sometimes I forget that I bottle things up and people don't have a clue that anything is wrong, so then when I finally explode everyone's like... who are you and what did you do with MacKenzie?

Well, the bad day came and went, I talked to good ol' Teri D, and I'm doing okay. Not great, not the best, but definitely okay.

People are leaving. Slowly but surely people are packing up their things and headed home. And I'm sad. I've spent four years with these people, a lifetime in my book, and now the new chapters begin. Wow. I love them, each and every one of them for very different reasons, and I'm so freaking lucky to have known them.

I think when the days get really bad like they did two days ago, I need to remind myself of the mediocre days. Days like today where nothing really happens... you see the people you always see, you do the usual tasks that fill your day... but nobody gets hurt and you laugh along the way... you're reminded that your mistakes are just as stupid and unimportant as everyone else's. You know? Like, yes I've failed too many classes...but my friend stole keychains just to do it for like, three years. Who's worse? Mistakes are mistakes. I'm not built on my GPA or my attendance record, I'm built on my character. And even though I don't always trust my own opinion, I think I've got an okay character. One that's strong even when I feel weak.

I'm feeling better. I'm feeling proud of the people in my life that are moving on. I'm feeling like ice cream is in my near future. And bonfires. And music. And maybe dancing. Definitely dancing.

I get to go home for a few days and sit on the deck with my parents and see my best friend in the whole world and adventure and drink beer and swim in the pool and have myself a little vacation. I can't wait. See, even the little things like going home or going to a bonfire, or opening a new bottle of wine... it's all reasons to smile and all reasons to keep the faith. Always have hope. I think I lost that earlier this week... but average days like today are the perfect reminder.

I find myself wanting to start my new chapter, but feeling like it's not even worth it. I mean, I'll still be here next year, right? Why start now? But that's Stupid MacKenzie talking.... and Smart MacKenzie knows it's never too early to try something new. So I think I'll do just that. I'll take baby steps and try new things and set plans to move out of here in a year and see where the wind takes me. It's never to early to make your dreams into plans, and your can't into cans. Never ever.

Cheers to plans. Cheers to goodbyes, see ya laters, and tearful hugs. Cheers to you.

The Fog.

“I’d try to explain that it’s not really negativity or sadness anymore, it’s more just this detached, meaningless fog where you can’t feel anything about anything — even the things you love, even fun things — and you’re horribly bored and lonely.” 

Sadly, this is where I'm at these days. It's not a fun place to be, it's not a place I even knew about. I didn't know you could reach a level of depression where you don't feel much of anything. It's not the medication, it's not a numbness... it's just... I don't know. I don't know how to describe my depression...but I'm going to try. Because it's confusing me these days. It's making me feel lonelier then I've ever felt. It's making it really hard to be me. 

Depression came into my life when I was in high school. It was very small, very quiet. Barely a problem, I would get lonely and cling on to a certain person for a month or two and then find another person who didn't realize I was a little bit lost and cling on to them until they found me out. Mostly boys, because I convinced myself the real problem was that boys didn't like me... and if I could make friendships with them then damn it I could be normal. 

When I got to college I had a few girls who were really cruel to me... and that's when it got bad. It was the catalyst to convince myself that I wasn't worth anything. I let myself go, and I let myself think that everyone around me thought of me like those silly girls did. I don't know why I did that. Maybe I agreed with them. Maybe I didn't want to fight. Maybe I was still young enough to think someone would fix it for me. 

For whatever reason, I let it happen. I let depression become the driving force of my every decision. Did I want to go out dancing, get dolled up, and flirt with boys? Sure. That sounds like a great time... but that required showering, picking out an outfit I convince myself I don't look horrible in, and telling myself I'm not the biggest burden in the world for needing a ride wherever we're going. I think I'll just stay in... That's how it started. Then classes came and went and I remained in bed. And once other people notice you're not okay...forget it, you just sink. 

I hear depression is different for everyone. But how I explain it... how I can try... is that I have my really bad days. I confide in friends and they say, listen bitch you're fabulous, and we laugh and watch Stepmom and cry... and the iceberg of sadness I've allowed to freeze inside me gets only a fraction smaller. It's only a shred of sadness gone. A shaving of ice. And I tell myself, okay, I can do this. I feel strong. And then I stay up all night because my mind wanders to far away places where I have a new body and a new mind and a new life. Finally, I fall asleep so early into the morning I'm exhausted. When my alarm goes off, I hear it, I tell myself to get up... but that iceberg makes itself known. I remember that I.. well, am me. I'm not that new girl. It's a strange, strange thing to not like yourself. It's so personal. Friends will tell me that they don't like themselves and I'll think... listen bitch you're fabulous... you don't know the pain or the self guilt or hatred. It's such a personal thing to fear your own mind. So you sleep. You dream instead of getting up. You miss class and tell yourself your professor will think you're an idiot and doesn't give a shit about you, and that's the way it is. 

Sometimes it gets worse. I've become violently ill before, where my body just rejects itself. This is one thing I truly can't explain...it's only happened a few times and I just don't get it. I really don't. I've tried getting up and starting my day and my body says a big ol' fuck you and I don't move the rest of the day. I don't get it. How some days I'm convinced I can beat this thing and other days I'm convinced I don't stand a chance. 

I'm in a fog these days. And I don't know how I let that happen. Or if I let it happen? I thought I was on such a good path. And then the days pass so fast that you don't have time to check in with yourself and then three weeks goes by and life happens and you forget. You forget about the iceberg. And when that fucker makes itself known again... forget it, you're down for the count. I'm down for the count. And the worst part? For the first time... I don't feel anything. I'm in the fog. So... I don't know how to fix this. I've never been here. Am I scared? A little. Am I pissed? No. Am I confused? You bet. I have no idea how to get out of this one... I feel like my life is mistake after mistake and pretending that it's youth. But is it? Right now I'm so bored with my life... and that's insane because I'm surrounded by groovy people in a groovy town. But I'm so bored. I'm so lonely. This fog, this level of sadness that has caused me not to feel much of anything... it's exhausting. I didn't even know it was exhausting, I didn't even know it was there until now. And I want it to leave. No one can make that happen but me... but I'm scared. I want to feel strong again, I want that so bad. 

I'm lost today. I feel like a fake. Like I wear the smile and play a part... I wonder if anyone truly knows the real MacKenzie. I try so hard to be completely myself, always. But when you confuse yourself, when you're not sure who you are... does that cloud other people too? Am I passing along this fog? I hope not. 

This is going to be quite the path... quite the journey. I've always told myself to never make a bad day make me feel like I've lived a bad life. And I believe that, still. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe tomorrow will be filled with realizations and clarity. Cheers to hope.