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.)