Today is my birthday

If you want to get technical, I was born at 5:17 pm, so I'm not officially nineteen yet. I remember when nineteen seemed so impossibly far away. I thought it was such an old and grown up age to be. I thought I would have everything figured out by nineteen.

When I was little, I always had a specific age in mind that, for whatever reason, meant "grown up" to me. It was twelve for years, and then sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. I seemed to think that by the time I made it that far, I would have become the person in my head that I imagined my best self would be. I would be smart and beautiful and powerful and socially competent. I would be confident and my life would be in control and everyone would stop treating me like a kid.

Of course, one birthday passed, and then another, and I never seemed to get any closer to being "grown up." I was the same person each new day as the one I was the day before. And yet, I am absolutely not the same as I was seven years ago, or four years ago, or even just one year ago. Being more "grown up" than I used to be is only part of it.

I really am the same person as I have always been, with all the same strange personality quirks. I've learned and I've grown and I have a more developed world view. I don't think that all the things that make me fundamentally me have changed, though. I've just....adapted.

It's not even something that I notice is happening, though. I just live, and sometimes I look back and realize how far I've come.

Broken

Someone once said that there is a crack in everything, and that's how the light gets in. He was confused, because cracks let the light out. Maybe all the cracks make me beautiful and unique, but Nietzsche said that "there are no beautiful surfaces without a terrible depth," and I think he was right. 

People never look past the surface. They see two dark eyes peering out from long lashes, but they miss that the darkness is not simply the color of my irises. The light has leaked out of cracks in my soul and left the windows to it dull and empty. 

Did Ophelia drown in a pond, or in her own despair? Because drowning doesn't require water. You can get so stuck inside of yourself that the barrage of emotions or the absolute emptiness cuts off the air and sky and drowns you beneath the waves of your own mind. 

The cracks are like joints and old injuries that ache when it rains. Sometimes it hurts without the rain. Sometimes it rains, and it doesn't hurt. Its hard to tell why or when the ache will come, but when it does, it carves out the rest of me like a pumpkin, and moves into the hollow space left behind. 

I've learned that I'm stronger than I ever though I was. I've learned to judge others less and have more empathy. I've learned that sometimes, I should just stifle my pride and admit I'm not okay, and that I need help. In many ways, its been a blessing. 

Its true that I'm a little broken, and I guess that's okay, because we all are in some way. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less. 

Just the Little Things

      Whilst perusing Facebook, I came across a blog post of a friend of mine. It was essentially just a list of things that she liked. The idea was that she had spent a lot of time thinking about all the things she didn't like, so she wanted to think for a while about what she did. It was almost poetic and the idea of focusing on good things was uplifting. They say that the best form of flattery is imitation, so I wrote this copy-cat post.

 Staying up late or even until the sun comes up while talking to a friend, deep, real belly laughs and hysterical giggles, playing with Legos, telling stories, having deep conversations, making people laugh, ultimate frisbee, wearing fuzzy socks and skating around on the kitchen floor, nerd-talk about Sherlock and Star Wars (and yes, I LOVE Clone Wars), long summer days filled with ice cream and impromptu adventures and sandals and tan lines that turn into warm summer nights spent laying in the grass staring into the star-studded heavens, going to church and reading the Book of Mormon and feeling that I know exactly who I am and that God loves me even when I do stupid things, singing in the shower and to the radio in my car, staying inside on cold afternoons and drinking hot chocolate next to a warm fire in a pile of blankets and pillows, driving fast, analog clocks with Roman numerals, unexpected texts from a friend I haven't talked to in a while, roller coasters, go-carts, staring out at the passing landscape while riding in a car, acknowledging that the best part of tour-bus travel is the company I am in, feeling the thrill of the moment when the plane lifts off of the ground and staring in awe at anything I can see below, hearing someone call my name, smelling the spray of citrus as I peel open an orange and then the sweet and zingy taste of the first bite, talking to my siblings and parents, sitting just close enough to get butterflies, cuddling, kissing until I'm breathless, the smell of fireworks and of barbecue and everything about the 4th of July, the comfort of old stuffed animals, dancing in warm rain, the clap of thunder following a flash of lightning exploding across the sky, and the smell of hot asphalt mixing with the storm, having smooth legs, getting dressed up for special occasions or for no occasion at all, doing my hair and makeup, putting on a pretty dress, jewelry, and high heels, hot showers, playing my trumpet alone or in a band, listening to music for hours on end, getting an A on a test, driving my stick-shift car with the windows rolled down and the wind messing up my hair completely, experiencing the world through smell-- cementing memories or bringing back old ones, popping popcorn and watching a favorite movie or going to the theater to see a new one, posing for pictures, compliments from strangers, wearing my hair down, watching basketball and cheering until I sound like a smoker, playing with my cat and dog, flopping into bed at the end of a long day, chocolate cake, visiting temples, attending BYU, hiking, watching the Olympics, and brushing my teeth,

Its amazing how long this list is. It could keep going if I wanted it to. I spend far too much time complaining and wishing for something better, but there is so much around me that I enjoy and so many things to find beauty in. It doesn't make the hard times go away, but it does give me something to be grateful for. 2nd Nephi 2:25 says, Adam fell that man might be; and men are, that they might have joy. It really is uplifting to notice what brings me joy, even if its just the little things.

Memories in a Car

Fourteen years old, in the driver’s seat for the first time in my life. My white-knuckle fingers grip the wheel as I push in the clutch, turn on the car, and slowly let my foot off the break. The car rolls forward, I scream, and promptly stall the car. My patient father directs me to try again. Twenty minutes later, I’m driving tentatively past empty fields on a nearly deserted road.

Fifteen now. I’m moody, impulsive, and self-centered. I’m about to have my heart broken for the first time, but I don’t know that yet. I'm on vacation at the family cabin. I take a break from moping to practice driving with my dad. The bumpy dirt road terrifies me, but I’m too proud to admit it. I’m not paying enough attention, and have several close calls with trees. Frustrated and angry at myself for messing up and at my dad for being right when he told me to be more careful, I storm away into the trees as soon as we get back.

Another year passes. In the picture on my new license I'm tan and blonde from the summer sun. I look young and care-free because I am. In the next year, everything is going to go just right for me. My dad will get a new car, so his old one-- the Nissan Sentra I started out in two years ago-- will be mine. I’ll have great friends and even a boyfriend. Most of my time will be spend smiling and laughing. I won't be close enough to the pain of life for it to affect me, or to even understand it. Sometimes I still long for those innocent days driving from one happy place to another.

Seventeen and it's senior year. It starts with change and people moving on. I struggle with that, but find enjoyment as a section leader in the marching band. Countless hours are spent parked on the side of the road with one of my trumpet players (not always the same one) in the passenger seat telling me about his life. Almost all of them are fifteen, and just like me at that age. I am the wise older sister figure that they all have a little bit of a crush on, and I love that role.

Marching band ends. Winter begins, and I spiral downward. The only thing colder than the frigid air is my soul. A long relationship runs its course, and even though I know it’s for the best, my heart feels the pain of a ragged hole where love used to be. I drive home from school day after day, sobbing to the radio or to my own silence. I drive in circles past places full of memory or park on the side of the road and wonder how I came to this. I sit behind the wheel of my motionless car, stuck inside of myself. I feel so much emotion some days that I feel ready to explode. Other days I feel so much nothing that even pain is a welcome guest. I have met the darker, sadder side of the human mind; not only in myself, but in the people I love the most. I want so much to take away their pain, but it’s impossible. I come to understand the deep penetration of depression. It’s a despair that doesn't have to have a cause or a reason to persist, but it does, and it tears you apart from the inside. 

When I'm all alone, it is the most present. When I step outside of my car and into the school or my house, I wipe it from my face, but I can see when I look into the mirror that the luster has gone from my eyes. I don't know how or who to ask for help, so I don't. I just turn into a shell of myself and try not to let my inner demons hurt anyone else. I keep them to myself and only let them out when I'm driving all alone. I hardly know who I am anymore.

Another year later my car takes me away from home to a dorm on a college campus. I walk to class every day, but still make excuses to drive. Today, another year later, I'm someone different than anyone I've ever been. I'm not care-free. I'm not empty. I'm not scraping rock-bottom. I have learned so much from a summer that brought me back to life and almost two semesters of college. There are still days or even weeks when the depression and anxiety creep up and swallow me whole, but I've learned how to snuggle with my demons more often than wrestle with them. There has been new love found and lost, new hurt, new struggles, new joy. There are new roads to drive on and a lot of figuring out who I am.

All alone in my car I roll down the windows and let the wind leave me breathless and feeling utterly alive. I sing the words on the radio or the ones in my head, pray earnestly, or just think aloud. Between my starting point and destination, anything can change.

And, as the memories in my car testify, everything does.

I thought about it, and I didn't do it.

I just finished writing a really long and deep post about my car and driving and life in general. It really is a good post. I'll probably put it up someday. (Hopefully in an edited state that is a little shorter than the current draft.) However, because my last post was pretty personal and long, I decided that in lieu of a longer and possibly more personal post, I will share this video. You're welcome in advance. 

Its Valentines Day (in case you hadn't noticed)

           But, see, if I really was Batman (er...Batwoman), I would probably have a Valentine. I mean, who wouldn't want to be Batman/woman's Valentine, right? 

           Okay, actually, if I really wanted a Valentine, I could have one. I'm just really really picky. And indecisive. And boys are dumb. I could say its because I'm going on a mission in a few months and don't want to start a relationship. This is true, but to be honest, if the right guy came along, I would date him anyway. (And then he would have to wait for me, because I'm going on a mission, and nothin's gonna stop me.)

Here is a poem I wrote to sum up the situation. 

Some boys are awkward

Some boys are shy 

Some are hard to look in the eye 

Some are gentlemen

Some are sweet

Some I hope you never meet

Some boys just keep asking you out

Even when you try to leave no doubt 

That they are nice, but, you see

You just don't have chemistry 

Some will tell you they love you, and then

They say they're too scared to let you in 

You try to say, "don't be afraid"

But already their mind is made

Months later, when you have moved on

They decide to be a total moron 

They try to kiss you, and they say,

"This time I will be okay," 

You grapple with yourself for weeks

Yes or no? Gosh, love stinks 

Your heart says yes, your head says no

It can make you feel very low

Valentines Day rolls around

Still an answer can't be found 

Whether its wrong or its right

You can't help but hope that he will call tonight. 

Yup. So....I can't think of much else I want to say. Valentines Day. Holla. 

Welcome to Life

      Sometimes life decides to smack you in the face. Hard. And when you land on your butt, it kicks dirt on your face just to top it off. That was basically this past week. 

       I started out feeling on top of the world. I felt like the girl that made every guy's head turn and his jaw drop, who had wonderful friends who I could (and did) talk to all night, and who was entirely confident in her abilities to be successful. A week and a half later, I was stressed, pulled thin, confused, and reeling from one hit after another. 

         To begin with, boys are dumb. Really really really dumb. It's hard to get your heart broken, and its hard to break hearts. Its hard when your past returns and you aren't sure how to handle it. And its very hard when your head and your heart don't agree.

        All in favor of ditching boys, staying single forever, and going the test tube baby route, say, "Aye." (Cue chorus of frustrated women shouting "aye" in perfect and resounding union.) 

         That was life pushing me down. 

         Today my mother called me in a panic and informed me that because I was 1.5 credits short, I have likely lost my scholarship. My very large scholarship. So unless I can figure out a way to make something work, its gone forever. 

          That was the dirt in the face. 

          However, things aren't all bad. On Sunday, my teaching companion and I threw together a very last minute Relief Society lesson (we found out late the night before that we were teaching). Even though we put it together in about forty-five minutes, it was a huge success. The Spirit was very strong and I had several people approach me afterwards to tell me it was just what they needed. God is so good. 

          Also, I still have the best friends in the world. Even if I do keep staying up WAY too late talking to them. The girls I live with are so sweet and supportive, and they know exactly when I need a hug. Today I got to hang out with one of my best and oldest friends for an hour and a half. Rachel Struthers is one of the coolest people who has ever lived. I don't know what I would do without her. Yesterday, a Facebook post triggered a messaging conversation with a friend from high school that I haven't talked to for a while. We discovered that we are both dealing with some very similar problems. It has been so nice to find comfort in empathy. 

        I guess that's just how life is. We're brought very low, and we start to lose faith in ourselves and in all that is good. But if we look around long enough, we can still find things that make it bearable. It doesn't mean the problems go away. But it does make it easier to keep swimming. 

Update: I was able to get into a couple of 1-credit half semester classes and keep my scholarship. Yay!!!