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.