Doubt has been an overbearing factor within my life. Doubt of others, doubt of myself, doubt of my own worth. And sometimes, I give into these doubts, these thoughts. In the past, I was never able to get through it. I would succumb to these thoughts and let myself drift away from reality. But… as if all of a sudden… that’s changed. This week was a week of doubts of every kind: school, work, money, life… love. And when I had become so obsessed with the thought that things don’t work out and things will never be able to be the same, I was brought right back to reality. I was given a chance again, and reminded that I am merely overreacting. And I’m so glad I can now realize that. With Thanksgiving being today, I am reminded how much I take for granted, and how little I have that I should truly be thankful for. Because one, to be truly thankful, doesn’t need much.
When I fell in love with you, everything I had ever heard, read, seen, or listened to began making so much sense. Every love story was a mirror to my life; every love song seemed to whisper volumes to my heart. The love I feel doesn’t contain fireworks, but it does leave sparks; birds don’t fly around me, but butterflies do continually linger each time you hold my hand. Every day, I long to see your face, and every day I am graced with a presence that God Himself has wonderfully granted upon an unworthy heart like mine. For years I read the poems, but now I find myself longing to be the poet.
Yet time seems my enemy, and loneliness my captor. He leads my mind through dark passages that open upon pessimistic judgements. My mind draws conclusions that Holmes himself would cringe away from. And yet, your smile and your words guide me out of my nightmare and into a light that I, despite the evidence, still believe to be a figment of my imagination. Your hand intertwines with mine, and your arm finds its way around my shoulder, each action reminding me where I am most at home and secure.
And I Love You for This.
It’s amazing how a heart,
When it seems it should have closed,
Can open up new doorways
Leading to new roads.
When Pain and Anguish tread
Upon the ones before
Hope and Love requite
Where hurt was evermore.
A cold shoulder you turned,
But one had sat in wait
I thought recovery was unattained,
But someone breached my hate.
Although times it all comes back
And hard memories return,
I remember what I have now,
I’m glad I waited my turn.
I know it’s been a long time since I’ve posted, and I know that everything I post has an air of seriousness, with a whiff of pathetic, but I have just one more to add on to my whiny existence. And the two songs I referenced in the title are among countless others that deal with the same thing: missing someone.
I would like to share the definition of “miss”
: to discover or feel the absence of
It’s amazing how, in recent weeks, this word has so flippantly been used by people, myself included. But in every honesty, I don’t think I’ve ever felt the actual emotion till recently. First, however, I would like to discuss the use of this verb as an emotion itself.
When we think of emotion, we immediately think of the typical: sad, happy, angry, joyous, etc. But have we ever considered the emotions that come with certain actions? I fully believe that missing someone is an emotion, not just an action. It’s a feeling of loss to a certain degree. A feeling that some things aren’t going to be the same for the time period that the person is gone. A feeling that part of you has been taken far away and that you’ll not be the same until you’re with that part again. This is an emotion that is felt by all, but not quite realized that it exists. It’s strange.
It’s a scary feeling. Especially for those who have never felt it before. Like me.
Recently, for the first time, I’ve felt a part of something, and that’s gone away. A mere text does nothing to help the “miss.” In fact, it only heightens it. Even though I know it’s only for a short period of time, it feels like an eternity. As the picture so rightfully says, we (the miss-ers) miss the (miss-ee) so much that even jealousy ensues. But that’s what is so magical about emotions. They delay and drag time, they bring up a part of people that they probably don’t know exists, they even provoke other, stronger emotions.
So we, as faltering humans, can continue to say “oh, I’ll surely miss you!” But never feel the emotion until it’s so deep, that it keeps you awake at night, prevents your thoughts from focusing, or keeps your tongue from speaking. To miss someone is to not only miss the physical presence, but to also miss all the feelings that coincide. It’s a beautiful, but fatal emotion. But either way, I’m blessed to be able to feel it.
Very kind. Funny. Smart. Perfect for any girl but me. It takes every muscle, bone in my body to even get myself to sit by him. Sometimes, I feel as though he’s afraid of me. Like I’m diseased to the touch. Buddy, it’s okay to touch my shoulder or hold my hand. Look in my eyes and make me do the same, no matter my protesting.
I say that, yet I don’t know if I’m ready for that. For you to be that one.
But maybe then I can let you occupy that part of my brain that is plagued with false feelings and an invisible, shadowed, non-existent face. Help me realize this CAN happen for me, but not that this is my only choice, only chance. I don’t want to settle. Give me reason to fall for you too, since you’re not the first to touch my heart, just the first to actually reach for it. The first I unconsciously have to push away. Instead, be the first to break down the barrier.
Two posts in one day? CRAZY!
I just feel like I haven’t written anything in so long. I just needed to write, but something that I enjoy. Sprawl out my alphabetical doodles on the screen, letting my fingers dance across keys that have become my enemy since finals week started. Even with a finger that is covered with a band-aid, I am enjoy every character I am writing.
I don’t know what it is right now, but I just feel like continuing to write. About nothing in particular. I guess I could write a story, you know? Maybe just a few musings. Here goes nothing:
She dreamed. Dreams that led her far away. To a large bed strung high up in a tree, candles floating all around. Small votives that seemed to light up her face in a light yellow glow. She dreamt of a lake that sat next to her bed-tree. Electric moonlight and bright white stars reflected from its pool, giving everything a small blue haze. She looked around, watching for any sign of life, but everything seemed to be tucked in bed; small flowers curled up and vanished, small sighs from wildlife as they relaxed and dozed. Every once in a while, a firefly would wink at her, as if to let her know she was not alone. The croak of a frog. The chirp of a cricket. Everything about this night was absolutely perfect. She continued to dream, getting deeper and deeper into a fantasy. The branches seemed to hug closer to her as she began, herself, to doze. Leaves tickled her face as her eyes grew heavy, her gaze a bit more fogged. “Go to sleep,” the air seemed to say, “tomorrow will be just as beautiful.”
Current events. Whatever my heart is thinking at the time. I don’t really have a drive, the words just kind of, happen. You know how some people doodle to get their minds off of things, or draw to express their emotions? Well, I like to doodle with words. It’s more… Expressive of my inner psyche.
Well, I thought I’d do Day 5 “The last time you were really angry and why” and the blog post I was originally gonna put together.
Remember Day 3, and who I described… well… things are a little sketchy. Since he got back from a camp, I knew things were different. He wasn’t BLATANTLY ignoring me, but things were way off. And now, instead of hanging out with me and our friends, half way through dinner with the bunch, he asks “can you take me to [my other friends’] house?” And just before then, “hey, you going to pick up [so and so] to go to the thing tonight?” Whatever happened to “YOU’re going to the dinner tonight, right?” Huh… guess THAT’S changed.
Anyway, besides crying every night in anger, and also relinquishing a horrible habit I’ve had for a long time of digging my finger nails unconsciously into my hand, causing very OBVIOUS and EMBARRASSING scabs and scars and bruises, this is most definitely the most angry I’ve been.
What kind of slap in the face is that!? He’s obviously saying “Hey, you’re really boring to me, and I’d rather hang out with this other person.” Okay, thank you, thank you very much. I compLETELY understand the concept of hanging out with other friends, and we’re not dating or anything, I don’t have a leash on you! But hey, I’d like it if you told me things like this in my face, please?
So the realizations I’VE obtained from this?:
- She’s got a fun personality
- She’s his age
- She’s gorgeous
- I’m only used as transportation
- She’s skinny and I’m not
- I’m uninteresting
- I’m constatnly talking about myself
- I’m flaky
- I’m distrusting, anyway
- My self-pity detracts from my personality\
And that, my friends is the cold, hard truth. I realize I’m a self piteous jerk who only wants to talk about herself, and is constantly grasping out for help, I do. But for so long, it’s the only way I got ANY attention. And now, I feel that’s the same with him. He started getting distant, I started getting desperate. He started to fade, I started to fake; and this is a fact. I hate it, though. I hate it about myself, I hate it that my flaws are ruining our friendship, but I honestly thought you’d seen past that! That you couldn’t have cared about them.
But this is why I’ve never kept good friendships. People realize the REAL person I am… and shy away. It’s the story of my life. It truly is. But I could have sworn it was different with you. Guess not, you’re just another typical boy. Guess that’s what I get for having a friend of different gender and 3 1/2 years younger. Oh well.
And here’s the question: Can I get past this? Yes. Psalm 34:18 “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” I don’t need someone who couldn’t care about me. Ya, it’s hard after all we’ve gone through together. We have invested a lot into our friendship, including you influencing me to go to the therapist, and I’m glad I did. I’m glad you did. And although now we’ll never own an apartment in California, or be in each others weddings, I’m glad for the things that happened while we were still on good terms. But I need to grow up, like you are, and get past my jealousy of you moving on, and do the same. 42 days till I’m finally out of your hair.
“Write About Yourself”
My name is Sarah Louise Harrison, and I am 19 years old. I attend Oklahoma Christian, and want to be a Sound Designer for animated films. I am timid and shy on the inside, but I make myself to be fun and confident on the outside. I love many different things, from Disney to Video Games. I love to write, and watch TV; to paint and go to museums; to relax and be continually busy. Heck, you could call me a contradiction waiting to happen. Sometimes I talk way too loud and out of turn, and I never give myself any credit for things. I’m conceited and play off of that anymore. That’s how I am. I love thinking into things and figuring out how they work, or what they mean. I adore being by myself, but when it comes down to it, I love being with my friends. And those, I have a multitude of :) And I have enough love to go around.
Despite the rather whimsical title… I don’t think I wanna talk in a whimsical tone.
”Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your INNER SELF, THE UNFADING BEAUTY OF A GENTLE AND QUIET SPIRIT, WHICH IS OF GREAT WORTH IN GOD’S SIGHT.” 1 Peter 3:3-4
Wow. Why can’t my thick skull retain this? However, I believe God made me as stubborn as a mule so I could continually remind myself, and slap myself in the face enough times to learn!
Anyway. This (as with everything else I write on here) is something that I’ve really been struggling with. Despite the countless middle school bible lessons and women’s sermons, This one topic is one that I have a hard time with.
And this year isn’t helping.
I have never felt so far from Him for a really long time. I don’t know why it’s become hard. I think I’m back in the state of mind, saying “I have to belong and have people love me, no matter what it takes” but this time, it’s starting to get to my head. Yes, I’ve made mistakes in the past, but this time, I don’t seem to care. And this is bad on my part! I need to care about what I’m doing with my life. But that’s the exact problem.
The next 20 years, for me, are planned out. They are mapped, and I am adamant about not straying from this. In this time, I plan on living in Oklahoma City, then Dallas, then Emeryville, CA; finally making my way to Pixar studios. Work hard: make it. That’s my philosophy. I have made no room for friends, for a husband, for a family; just myself. And that’s all I need. But… This is selfish. I MYSELF have laid out my life plan. I haven’t done any consulting on His part.
But I’m once again getting lost in my point.
A spark of reality hit me… another friend is engaged. I’ve given up on counting. And caring. While I sit and look at myself. I think “what’s wrong with me?” “why am I so alone?” “why am I so ugly that no one likes me?” Pathetic. Am I so conceited to not see any truth? Really?
God made me who am I. If anything, he’s teaching me patience, but first: self respect. I have the inability to see myself as nothing more than just a passer-by; a mediocre existence; someone unworthy of any love because of all of my faults. Yes, I have some issues to work out. I need to be healthier, but prettier? That’s preposterous (and yes, I did use that word in a serious context).
So while I’m sitting here, studying psychology, nay, procrastinating on studying psychology; sitting across from the mirror on the wall, all the while staring up at my own reflection and continually seeing the faults, I’m going to slap myself in the face with this scripture, and maybe one day, I’ll finally believe it.
Today, it has finally come to my attention:
- I am stuck up
- I have no right to call myself the person I think I am
- I put up a facade that has jeopardized what people think I am
- As deviant as I show myself to be, I leave the world to decide who I am and what I am doing here
- I don’t rely any on anyone else, not even my Lord and Saviour, a faux pa on my head.
- I continue to hold up the idea that I am a strong, independent person who needs no one, nor anything, to stand in her way.
In all this, I am wrong
As many times as people try to tell me to “be myself” or “break down the barriers,” they always come back to haunt the fact that I cannot do anything of the like. be myself? Well my definition of ‘self’ is: someone who puts up walls to show that she can handle it on her own, when, in actuality, I’m tender, struggling, incomplete, and even needy. Why do I do this? Who knows. Unlike others, I was always told to let my feelings out, always told that being upset and getting angry were ordinary daily occurrences in everyone’s lives. Why do I treat myself horridly, yet act like everything’s hunky-dory? Because, I have the tendency to want to make others happy and please those around me. Who wants to be around someone who mopes about their problems? No one. And when I do, I seem a bit bipolar because I begin to realize the stupidity in doing so. Another factor of this: Trust.
Yes, trust is an issue for me. The roller coaster ride of a life with the people around me has left me calloused to growing close to others. This ties to my earlier statement by realizing that I don’t need others, because I do not want to be hurt by others. However, this year has taught me something different.
A change of pace
I realize that, for the first time in my life, someone other than a biased parent, cares for me. And not just one someone, but multiple someones. Sadly, I feel neglectful and ungrateful to their kindness because, frankly, I’m not used to it. The concept of a ‘best friend’ is a new one to me, and having someone who actually understands me, is even more nerve-wracking. BUT! I do realize this, and I try my hardest to change. Past my continual fishing for compliments and consolation, I am slowing growing stronger and, brick by brick, letting these 19-story walls come crashing down. The process is lengthy, and I feel like it’s going to take me through much, but I need to learn to put faith in God above, (another hard thing for me), and realize that I am not the only person on the face of this earth. I need to love others and LET others love me! Crazy, no?
What is time but something that becomes the past?
Something that we cannot gain,
Something we continually lose.
With time, we grow:
With time, buildings crumble.
Trees rot and flowers wither.
But, as time goes by,
Bonds grow stronger,
And love becomes greater!
And with each passing hour,
Our lives get a new beginning.
Conflicts. This seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life lately. Funny enough, we were talking about conflicts in Bible today. I love the class dearly, and it may be my favorite of the 15 hours I am taking this semester. But we have been discussing the Sermon on the Mount. Rather funny, really, that we would have brought up quite the subject as “conflict” but when talking about the Beatitudes, it’s kind of unavoidable. ”Blessed are those who make peace. They will be called God’s children.” (Matthew 5:9). Make peace? In order to ‘make’ peace, conflict must be the raw materials. However, how can we be peacemakers if we have conflict in our lives? We’re all falling victim to conflict, whether over a matter of years, or a matter of seconds.
Conflicts come in an array of colors. A deep blue to signify a deep loss if you chose one thing over another, or not. A bright, fire-engine red, and envious color, deciding right from wrong. It’s amazing how many conflicts there are! And they happen daily, whether we are conscious to them or not.
I find myself caught in the middle of many conflicts, sitting on a fence and wonder, hoping, praying I know which to do. As humans, we look towards others for guidance, but fear to open up too much to others. Our conflicts dwell in our paths, crowding our only way to our next stepping-stone, with hot, burning lava surrounding us. And how do I cope with these conflicts? How does anyone cope with a conflict, whether immediate or delayed, serious, or seriously unnecessary? We either push it to the back of our minds, or bring it to the front lines to finally be solved and finally moved out of our brains. However, regret sometimes settles in. Either way, we are kept busy with the prospects of “ifs,” “ands,” or “buts.” Sometimes, we even look to others for guidance, but that turns up short when we become to afraid of opening up and letting others actually help, for we fear either rejection or judgment. An all to common fear, if I may say so.
However, we as humans, with our eternal conflicts whether dumb or quizzical, can be relied on for so much more. We never give ourselves the credit we deserve for what we can accomplish. We can solve these conflicts, and learn from our sometimes false judgments. Our leap towards a solution may be a bit off sometimes, landing us in the dirt, but we learn from our mistakes, and eventually make it over the wall.
Isn’t it funny how, as children, we can just go up to a person and say, “Hey, wanna be friends?” If only it were as easy now as it was then. Friendships are a hard concept to grasp. With so many different levels and so many different paths it could take, friendship can be a complex system of arrangements. Meaning, in order for one thing to work, another has to follow through, but in order for it to follow through, it has to work first! It’s quite the Catch-22. Also, it’s amazing how easily we can build trust with some, and how hard it is to build with others. Consider this: I was with two friends today, we went to do some shopping, and I was chauffeur, one is rather flamboyant, while the other is down to earth and artistic. Either way, I love them both dearly, but I can’t seem to want them to enter my life. The artistic one, hailing from Washington, seems to be a very complex individual, one of mystery, yet simple and easily read. The second, on the other hand is very, dare I say, loving. He has an air to him that seems to just waft “care.” However, no matter how many times either of them may say, “I’m here for you,” I can never let myself open up and trust them. As much as I know they won’t hurt me, it’s still hard for me to let go of my past mistakes and hurts. As stated by the band R.E.M., everybody hurts. But, as stated by me, only some can turn that hurt around and use it in order to open their arms. My arms are crossed and my back is turned the other way. I know this is the wrong approach, but I can’t seem to make my head turn to the path that lies in front. Instead, I want to continue staring at what has been behind me, what has been familiar to me. Although, we must move on.
I will conquer my fear of rejection and loss, and let them into my life.
However, am I really afraid of them? Or am I afraid of myself? Am I afraid that, if they get to close, I’ll end up leaving them? That I’m going to want to go away from that bind I have made just because I don’t like it anymore, and that I’m getting far to close for comfort and am shying away from a true friendship? Maybe it’s my self-image that gets in the way? Or maybe it all goes back to my lack in confidence and trust? Either way, it needs to be changed. My view, not on how I will treat others, but on how I’ll let others treat me, is right now askew, and needs to be straightened out.
I pray to God for the guidance He can give me to let Him let these people into my life, to teach me, to love me, and to hold me when things get rough, because God knows how hard it is and is going to be in the next few years. I can’t do it alone, as much as I would like to think I can.
There, the first step to the new me: Admittance.
It was brought to my attention today, St. Valentine had intended it to be a time when EVERYONE was kind to one another. It’s sad how our perverse world has eradicated every inch of it’s true meaning! Instead of giving gifts of flowers, cards and chocolates to the one person you have exceptional feelings for, pay that love to everyone around you. I believe the reason why he did this was to make it more of a peace day, because he meant for this to happen all year long, every year. And it should. Everyone should show each other the same love they show their boyfriends or girlfriends on this one day. This one, materialistic day. Which leads me to another rant: Since when was love shown in gifts? I thought love “was of God.” Love cannot be bought nor given through utilitarian views such as candied hearts or sappy cards. Love is greater than what we as Americans show. The Greeks had it best with 5 different types of love: marriage love, family love, friendly love, lustful love, and agape, the love God has for us, and we should have for him and each other. Next year, let’s celebrate the way it was intended, okay?
Isn’t funny when we feel the need to talk about something, but we’re not in the slightest bit sure of what to say? After reading “The Book Thief” that’s how I feel. Funny enough, I’m quite the sight to see right now! Listening to Morning Person from Shrek the Musical, yet bawling my eyes out from the sadness of the book. If anything, we can see which one has touched me deeper. I revel in the fact that I am naturally a loving, happy, sunshine and rainbows kind of person, but in actuality, there is that twinge of deep depression and darkness that is inside all of us.
Death. Personally, this isn’t a word I quite like. At all. There’s far too much of it in the world, and too much attention towards it. Besides, I’m not one for goodbyes. Even after having lost a some dear people, I don’t believe it’s been anything like goodbye. More like, “Hey, see ya later!” But, it’s funny, you would think I would never see them. Ya, the memory of their presence and their physical look is starting to get a little dim, but they’re still always there. I sometimes find myself talking to them, at times when I’m alone, times when I’m frustrated, times when I’m just down in the dumps. I guess it’s a special type of consolation. A hidden type.
Well, the reason for this weird and seemingly random thought is that the whole book of “The Book Thief” is about not just death, but the perseverance past that! A perseverance through an irreversible truth through the means of a special kind of self expression: words. It’s amazing what words can do. Bring up, break down, and even get someone through their darkest time. Actually, the book has many themes: friendship, love, death, perseverance, and mostly, the power of words.
This is definitely something that’s going to be running through my head for a while, forgive me if I seem distant for a while ;)
Well, I get the whole blogging experience to myself now! I think I want to make this my personal rambling site. Since I don’t have to do actually news stories for class, I have free reign! This may or may not be a good thing.
Anyway, like I said, I might just make this a little, well, something to take the little random sentences that pop into my head and organize them onto the vast abyss known as the “Internet.” (also, unlike my previous writings, I will attempt to use sarcasm and hyperbole as much as I can. However, I am just as much a writer as I am a comedian… Meaning I’m not either of them, so bear with either corny or overly expanded jokes, puns, and hilarious interpretations. This was a warning brought to you by the Department of Comedic Security.)