I found this poem today. I wrote it in August of 2007, and I have an inkling as to why I was so sad that day. The reason I'm posting it here is that I'm cleaning up my hard drive of junk, and this poem, I decided, should survive because it reminds me that no matter how bad life may seem, things will turn around.
"Hugless Hug-ho"
Sometimes you feel like hiding...
You want to be alone,
But at the same time you're longing for something.
What it is - you don't know.
You feel it.
It's the source of your suffering.
You shed a tear, just one for now.
Somehow that brings consolation-
Just for a moment.
You wrap your arms around yourself
Your soul crashes within you
It hurts, but it needs to come out.
You'll feel better later.
Right now, you can only focus
On the fact that you're alone.
Someone tries to call you,
And you ignore them,
But didn't you need them all along?
Somehow speaking with them
Makes what you're feeling worse
Mainly because all the hurt is coming out,
But from experience you know that
Sharing your thoughts is part of the resolution.
Someone could be right next to you
And you'd still feel alone.
No one knows what you're feeling.
All you need is a little empathy,
And you can't have it.
Sometimes you just need a hug.
No words, just a hug.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
On Mental Rest...
I'm beginning to wonder if these sleepless nights have any meaning to them. Despite all of my preparations to have a deep sleep, I find my mind rambling through my past. My mind remembers tiny details of small moments that were long forgotten and at present race in and out of my mind faster than lightning striking right before my eyes. I pause in mid-thought, suddenly focusing my attention on the rhythmic singing of the crickets outside. They speak to me and remind me of where I am. I am here, in the present... not in the past. I close my eyes. I place my hands across my abdomen and slow my breathing. I stretch and then feel a gentle wisp of air on my face from the ceiling fan. My mind empties itself of all thought. I am free. Sleep is just a whisper away...
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Daily Designation
I watch clocks like a supermodel who constantly looks in her compact mirror.
I stare at a clock, thinking :: Time to get up. I have so long until I have to leave the house. Class starts at this time. Feed Ana, morning and night. How much time do I have to waste before I have to do my homework? When is the best time to call my parents? What time does [a place] close? How much sleep did I get last night? How long should I wait? ::
Time is a parameter, a guideline for each and every day of my life. It ultimately makes the decision as to what events will come to pass. Time is a limit, and though I am the most prompt person I know, days without consideration of time feel as if they are a complete waste. Today has been like one of those days when you left the laundry in the washing machine, and the clothes begin to turn sour. This day is sour. A rain on the parade, a useless 24 hour period without any accomplishments. I have nothing to say for myself except that I played navigator for an hour or two and that I was responsible enough to make a trip to the farmer's market to buy food so I can have lunch tomorrow.
Now I wallow in the fact that it's nearing bed time, and tasks that I should have done earlier in the day have patiently waited, neatly stacked themselves, and are ready to be completed. What's stopping me? Time.
I stare at a clock, thinking :: Time to get up. I have so long until I have to leave the house. Class starts at this time. Feed Ana, morning and night. How much time do I have to waste before I have to do my homework? When is the best time to call my parents? What time does [a place] close? How much sleep did I get last night? How long should I wait? ::
Time is a parameter, a guideline for each and every day of my life. It ultimately makes the decision as to what events will come to pass. Time is a limit, and though I am the most prompt person I know, days without consideration of time feel as if they are a complete waste. Today has been like one of those days when you left the laundry in the washing machine, and the clothes begin to turn sour. This day is sour. A rain on the parade, a useless 24 hour period without any accomplishments. I have nothing to say for myself except that I played navigator for an hour or two and that I was responsible enough to make a trip to the farmer's market to buy food so I can have lunch tomorrow.
Now I wallow in the fact that it's nearing bed time, and tasks that I should have done earlier in the day have patiently waited, neatly stacked themselves, and are ready to be completed. What's stopping me? Time.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
The Absolute Freedom
I spent a good deal of time online yesterday digging into something deep. It felt like an obsession, but I couldn't pull myself away from it. A few years ago I watched a documentary called Bowling for Columbine about the 4/20/99 school shooting at Columbine High School in Littleton, CO, and while I was filtering through my movies the other day, I came across it. I decided to research more information on this tragedy for myself. I read articles upon articles, statements, blogs, some which could be believed and others that couldn't. I plunged deep to get into the minds of the suicidal/homicidal teens who expressed their rage towards their classmates and teachers.
Reading and listening to differing conclusions about the root cause of their actions reminded me of what life was like when I was a teen. At the time, high school seemed like the beginning and end. I finally felt grown-up, but I knew after high school life would be a lot worse - not seeing my friends everyday and more responsibility. There were plenty of times then when I thought about suicide and came close to doing it. Suicide seemed to be the absolute freedom from obligations and troubles. I never told anyone about those moments. I just kept them to myself, not even my parents know of those difficult and trying times in my life. Like Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, I expressed those depressing thoughts in a journal.
While showering today, out of nowhere, I remembered one of those suicidal moments. My dad always knew I liked to sit on top of the roof and yelled at me for it. I would access the deck through the sliding door in my parents' bedroom and hop over the railing to the roof of the garage and then finally on up to the rooftop of the house. I would sit on the roof when I just wanted to be alone to think. Most of the time I was sad and upset, and no one would bother me up there. If I were in my room, my family would beg to come in. On this particular day that I recalled, I remembered precisely why I had gone to the roof. Beau Robinson had broken up with me again. The story behind Beau has some extensive detail, but let's just say that I really loved this guy, and I'm pretty sure he felt the same, but he just wouldn't commit to me (because he was scared?). It sounds retarded now when I think back on that moment, but I was fairly upset with him for taking another little piece of my heart away. So on that day I walked to the side of the house, standing on the apex of the roof. I held my arms out like I was a bird, ready to fly off the edge. This was the highest point on the roof because the house was on a downward slope. I looked down, and considered just jumping right then. I stood there, just staring at the ground below me, feeling the wind blow my hair about me. Suicide seemed possible, but in the back of my mind, I thought, "If I do jump, and I don't die, then I'll have to deal with having broken bones, and my parents questioning my actions." That overruled the suicide attempt that day.
I don't regret having that suicidal moment. In fact, I could even go so far as thanking that guy for breaking up with me again. He helped me to realize that I am a strong person, though I didn't see that until today. I guess the point of this blog was to say that life may seem troublesome and depressing, and as a young adults, our emotions run away from us when trying to cope with those moments. Those moments seem to be the lowest points in our lives, but the reality is that life could always be worse. I think that is what saved me that day on the rooftop. I realized that I would rather stay the way that I was (alive and well) than have to deal with broken bones and upset parents. Somewhere deep inside, while I was reading about Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold I just kept hoping that I could save them, as if they were still alive. I was hoping that they would see what I see now... a life full of ups and downs that when recalled help us become better people.
Reading and listening to differing conclusions about the root cause of their actions reminded me of what life was like when I was a teen. At the time, high school seemed like the beginning and end. I finally felt grown-up, but I knew after high school life would be a lot worse - not seeing my friends everyday and more responsibility. There were plenty of times then when I thought about suicide and came close to doing it. Suicide seemed to be the absolute freedom from obligations and troubles. I never told anyone about those moments. I just kept them to myself, not even my parents know of those difficult and trying times in my life. Like Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, I expressed those depressing thoughts in a journal.
While showering today, out of nowhere, I remembered one of those suicidal moments. My dad always knew I liked to sit on top of the roof and yelled at me for it. I would access the deck through the sliding door in my parents' bedroom and hop over the railing to the roof of the garage and then finally on up to the rooftop of the house. I would sit on the roof when I just wanted to be alone to think. Most of the time I was sad and upset, and no one would bother me up there. If I were in my room, my family would beg to come in. On this particular day that I recalled, I remembered precisely why I had gone to the roof. Beau Robinson had broken up with me again. The story behind Beau has some extensive detail, but let's just say that I really loved this guy, and I'm pretty sure he felt the same, but he just wouldn't commit to me (because he was scared?). It sounds retarded now when I think back on that moment, but I was fairly upset with him for taking another little piece of my heart away. So on that day I walked to the side of the house, standing on the apex of the roof. I held my arms out like I was a bird, ready to fly off the edge. This was the highest point on the roof because the house was on a downward slope. I looked down, and considered just jumping right then. I stood there, just staring at the ground below me, feeling the wind blow my hair about me. Suicide seemed possible, but in the back of my mind, I thought, "If I do jump, and I don't die, then I'll have to deal with having broken bones, and my parents questioning my actions." That overruled the suicide attempt that day.
I don't regret having that suicidal moment. In fact, I could even go so far as thanking that guy for breaking up with me again. He helped me to realize that I am a strong person, though I didn't see that until today. I guess the point of this blog was to say that life may seem troublesome and depressing, and as a young adults, our emotions run away from us when trying to cope with those moments. Those moments seem to be the lowest points in our lives, but the reality is that life could always be worse. I think that is what saved me that day on the rooftop. I realized that I would rather stay the way that I was (alive and well) than have to deal with broken bones and upset parents. Somewhere deep inside, while I was reading about Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold I just kept hoping that I could save them, as if they were still alive. I was hoping that they would see what I see now... a life full of ups and downs that when recalled help us become better people.
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