Reckoning

Reckoning (For New Life)

See

Once broken down to the bones

By my history

Pain so intense, tunnel vision at an all-time high

Angry and defiant, desperate for influence

Screaming on the inside

Venturing to dark places for relief

Hear

Obvious feelings without the words to express them

Make for awkward conversation

Translating high expectations without the intention

Perceived discomfort leading to my taking responsibility

When supposedly rejected

Silence created stories in my head

To ease the dread of not having answers

Insecurity bred anxiety

Anxiety bred impulse

Out of character

I had become a stranger to my own self

It took a hard thing to give me pause

A conversation that became a dead reckoning

Distance and disconnection was tearing me apart

And tearing me away from those that meant the most

Know

That I was not myself

For over a year

Buried underneath resentment

Trapped in my own vengeful thoughts

Many moments where I questioned

Where bitterness rooted down

Why I built walls, instead of setting boundaries

Escaping to cope

But trapped all the while

Darkness does not go without remnants

Storms do not settle without aftermath

Many unknowns lie ahead

Fear of repetition peeks its head out of the shadows

At least every once in a while

I ask for forgiveness

For lashing out against loved ones

For clinging to false distractions

For being self-centered

Such actions and emotions were a disguise

As a longing for close relationships and intimacy

A desire to know and be known

But what I see now is the miracle of grace

Embracing the here and now

Who we are and where we’re at

Trusting in what we cannot predict

Believing not in forgetting, but in learning and loving

It is what it is

Let it be

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Unrecognizable

What surprised you this year?

I've been sitting here for a while, unsure of how to respond to this topic. There wasn't any one specific event or even a series of happenings that caught me off guard, but I won't say that this year was entirely predictable either. However, it's not what what has happened on the outside that has me taken aback, but how I've been responding and reacting to it inwardly.

I can't hide the fact that I've been an angry person, regardless of whether it was justified or not. Part of it did relate to my parents' situation, along with both my personal and professional lives looking nothing like I had envisioned  as time went on. I had a lot of outbursts, and each time I asked myself why the hell I'd get so worked up, since some of it had no bearing on me. It might have been something specific in the heat of the moment, but the cause went much deeper.

A few days after Thanksgiving, we all gathered at my mom's house to watch football and eat leftovers for the majority of the day. I was sitting on the couch and happened to overhear a conversation involving a subject that makes me uncomfortable at best, and has me seeing red at worst. It was like I had become The Hulk, except I had to shove down my feelings down and keep my mouth shut. And whenever I hold back, my defenses go up and I snap pretty easily.

Even after there were plenty of opportunities to talk, I was still crabby and stubborn. I cursed and cried and thought a lot of things that I wouldn't dare say out loud.

What on earth was wrong with me? 

Anger is healthy. Sadness is healthy. But eventually I began to grow tired of what was now becoming a ball and chain, and just wanted it to go away. Don't think, don't feel...just stop.

But I couldn't do that, at least not in the long run. I finally wrote it down it my journal:

When I can't express my feelings, I get cranky.
When I'm ashamed, I get defensive.
When I can't connect with other people, I get depressed.
And when I sense that anyone is trying to change me (or change how I feel), I lash out.

Who am I? What have I become? 

I would admit to my therapist a week later that I didn't recognize myself anymore, and that I didn't like what I saw. My heart was as hard and cold as it had ever been, and I often wanted to project a "Don't Mess With Me" attitude toward anyone I came into contact with. I've always had a bit of a rough and tumble side, a warrior spirit, which has kept me going through numerous surgeries and obstacles. However, my mindset was beginning to cross over to some pretty dark places, and I was a little afraid of where it would lead.

I'm not a controlling person, but I did wish that I had some influence over how everything was being handled. Though no longer a child, I resented not getting the kind of protection that kids usually have when their parents are splitting up. I was hurting not just because of what was happening, but because I felt like I couldn't be honest about it. I lost a large part of my identity, and had no clue what to do except sit there and grieve. These feelings dominated most of the summer, apart from wanting to escape from them. And despite was it looked like, I kept a lot to myself; most of my support system was from a distance, and I didn't want to risk the pain of trying to make everyone else understand my experience. 

Being stuck inside my own head made relationships somewhat difficult, and at this moment I'm wrestling with an interesting mixture of gratitude and regret. I'm not going to speak for anyone, but there are probably some that were upset by the way I acted. I can't imagine the kind of impression I made on those that I was just getting to know, and might have pushed away as a result. I'm not sure whether to apologize or simply say, "thank you" for being there when I was not in the best place. Maybe it's a balance of both.

There's freedom in taking a step back, in realizing that I can't be responsible for others' choices or happiness. I'll have to set boundaries when appropriate, and there are still triggers that need to be dealt with. But I feel a lot calmer now, a lot more at peace. It's all on a day by day basis, baby steps and then some.

And that's why I'm looking forward to starting over.

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The Word(s) I Didn't Expect

Reverb: The time of year where I sit down for the next month or so, reflecting on the past year and manifesting what's next. Part of me is already feeling raw and exposed enough as it is, but this writing exercise has become a tradition that I don't plan on backing out of any time soon. Some of the prompts will be of my own devise, while others will come from other hosting websites. 

A number of people are now opting out of New Years Resolutions, and instead meditating on one word or theme for the year. Looking back, what was yours for 2015?

As I typed out a final reflection for the current year, my mind kept coming back to the concept of hope. Hope for all things made new, for the past to die away, and for the possibilities to come. I experienced it in waves: when I finally found work, Mom and sister moving into a new house, and meeting some pretty great people inside and out of my comfort zone. But there were times when hope seemed superficial, a buzzword coated in cliches for what I could not guarantee to actually happen. It felt shallow, as though I was chasing after something I could never quite catch (which from a certain perspective, I was). 

The more appropriate word would have been emotional. 

Good Lord, 2015 was quite an emotional year. A year filled with a few big changes that were a long time coming, including my parents finally going their separate ways. I was literally on a pendulum of feelings, literally hitting everything on the spectrum from complete and utter happiness to all out rage. I found joy in the little things, the every day and mundane. It was my way of focusing on the here and now, rather than get all worked up about what may or may not happen eventually.

And of course I was sad that a part of my life was coming to an end, even if it was unhealthy and dysfunctional in the grand scheme of things. I had to come to terms with the nature of certain dynamics, that some relationships might not be what I so desperately wished and prayed for since I first became aware of it. 

Yet, the more obvious factor, anger, was actually a misconception. I was more pissed at the way things were being handled, as opposed to what was actually happening. I couldn't be genuinely honest without someone making comparisons as to who was suffering more, or completely invalidating what I had seen and heard for so many years. And when I can't communicate what I'm feeling, I start lashing out and become resentful. It will build until I'm literally on the verge of taking somebody's head off.

It all was very much a disguise for helplessness. It was one thing to not have any kind of control, but to have very little influence was a different story entirely. It seemed like nothing I did or said mattered, and eventually resign myself to the fact that this was a train wreck in which I couldn't get away from. 

But I've learned a lot from it, having become more aware of how I express myself, communicate, and ultimately relate to others. And that is what I call progress. 

On the outside, it's not particularly monumental. However, I have battled with my sense of self-worth for close to thirteen years, and I am finally in a place where I've comfortable with the way that God made me: 

I am an expressive person, and it's literally impossible to hide it. Whether I'm in a good mood or a bad mood, most people that know me well enough can tell. 

I'm a sensitive, and toughening up is not in my vocabulary. Yes, some things will initially hurt at first, but I try to be an advocate for letting it out and then letting it go. When you name something, you give it less power over your mind and over your life.

I am a deep feeler; love, pain, everything. As uncomfortable as it is to feel like an outsider to both my peers and dear ones, I'm grateful for it. I consider it a gift to feel, as we now live in a culture that continually glorifies busyness and keeping it casual. It's scary as hell and kind of weird, but I'm leaning into it...slowly. 

There's so much more to discuss and expand on, but I'll save for that for the coming days. For now, I welcome this journey with open arms, and I give thanks for all that join me.

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When Morning Breaks: Moving Onward, Looking Up

Weeping may stay for the night, but joy comes in the morning.
-Psalm 30:5

I've often spoke of the multiple transitions that I've been experiencing since finishing college, much of which has been taking place in moments rather than in stages. The last year or so has felt like one incredibly long night, and one that is filled with grief, loss, fear, anger, uncertainty, exhaustion, and occasionally despair. Every so often the darkness threatens to swallow me whole, causing me to wonder if my friends and family would be better off if I just went away for a while and didn't come back until I got my shit together. In the grand scheme of things, I'm fully aware of how important it is to acknowledge and embrace emotional ups and downs, despite the societal encouragement to go numb all together.

Since every journey is different, you really can't put a timeline on the healing process. There is such a thing as getting through it, but never quite getting over the pain, the piece of your life or your heart that was buried underneath all the devastation. There is indeed a time for everything, whether it involves mourning or celebration; for me it is not a question of what exactly, but of when.

When is it time?

Time for what, exactly? I don't want to say "let go" because that seems to imply that you go through a whole range of motions and then act like the whole thing never happened. "Move on" is rather cliche, and is more applicable to relationships; in my case, relationships aren't necessarily ending, but some of them will look and function differently. When I truly think about it, it comes down to this:

When is it time to stop wallowing and start living?

I'd been angry and depressed for a while, and to such a level where I felt like an animal gone rogue. Having no control over the decisions that were being made, I felt like it was the only way to truly protect myself from what was going on around me, and to make sure that I wasn't taken advantage of. Lashing out didn't do a whole lot in regards to motivating the people around me to listen, but neither did holding it all in.

Some have and will call me selfish, and I'm not going to deny it. I came to a point where I was tired of being the rock, the parent, the one that held the fort down while all hell broke loose. I didn't know how to support one without resenting the other, and I've always believed that you have to take care of yourself first before you can take care of anyone else. Isn't post-grad usually the time when most people establish healthy boundaries in order to find their own footing? I was constantly being told that I needed to focus on my own life, so that's what I did. I wasn't always compassionate, nor was I always mature. Now that the smoke has begun to clear, understanding might be a little bit easier to come by.

I've learned a lot, much of which I'm not quite ready to share with the world just yet. Though I don't agree with how certain aspects were handled, I pray that this next chapter gives both of my parents the freedom to find their own sense of happiness and make better, healthier decisions for themselves.

So what now?

I'm re-discovering my identity, one that is fully anchored in faith instead of the events of the last decade or so. I'm learning about truly being comfortable with who I am as a person, to own my perspective instead of questioning it. The beauty of being where I'm at now is that I feel like it's less about what I have to prove, and more about what I have to give/offer. I shouldn't have to constantly explain or justify my reasoning, as long as I don't harm myself or others in the process. I still care, but I'm not putting my lively-hood on the backbone of other opinions.

It comes down to choices, really: you can use happenstance as an excuse to blame other people for your wounds, or you can put on your boots and keep walking. The older you get, the more autonomy you have to go your own way. It's why I don't fear getting married or being committed to someone, because I'm aware that history doesn't have to repeat itself.

If nothing else, I'm afraid of missing out on life because I held back.

That doesn't mean it's easy, or that it won't involve falling down, picking myself back up, and starting over again. It's going to happen a lot. A lot of my personality has been a defense mechanism in what has gone on, not just with my parents' situation, but for most of my life. There is a part of me that will always have this feisty, don't mess-with-me attitude that is more than determined to accomplish what I've set out to do. From this point on, I can be stubborn and hard-headed while having a soft heart. I can take things in baby steps while still building something worth holding onto, whether it be creative or relationship-oriented. 

Yes, it's very possible. 

I still have moments where I feel like I'm going through a bit of an aftershock: like I'm a character in a horror movie who's standing in a clearing in the woods, waiting for the monster or whatever to come out and attack her again. It will take time to get used to this "new normal" as it's called, but it will happen eventually.

I have trouble finding adequate words to express how grateful I am to those that rallied around me, who still walk with me to this day. I'm grateful for the validation and reminders that I wasn't alone, that I had people to confide in and carry me (both literally and figuratively) when I needed it. I'm thankful for those that prayed, listened, loved, and still continue to do so. And...I'm grateful for a kick in the pants every so often. 

I'd like to think of myself as a strong person. Resilient. Determined. Brave. Raw. Nothing can hold me down, and nothing can keep me in.

I don't know what the future holds, but I know who holds the future. 

Let's move.

Talk Bravery

Choose one moment of bravery and write a letter to yourself back at the beginning of 2014, letting you know how brave you're going to be this year.

Dear Al,

The year 2014 is a year filled with so many possibilities; people to meet, places to see, and ways to strengthen and grow. But this is also a year to be brave, though you may not grasp that in the first moments while reading this. And not that you weren't in years past, but this time around you will do something that you've shied away from for a very long time. Given the turmoil within the family and being away most of the time, it's understandable why you haven't given much thought to it. That doesn't mean it hasn't been a long time coming, close to a decade to be exact. 

Not only will you leave the familiarity of Iowa City and embrace the uncertainty of post-graduation, but you're going to have two very difficult conversations, each with your parents but at different times and for different reasons. The common thread is that you'll come out of both of them with various perspectives but a deeper understanding of what has happened and why. The anticipation will become unbearable because you can't predict how either of them will react, but you know it needs to be done. 

Sitting down with Dad is a little unplanned, but you'll be relieved that he initiates the conversation. You won't realize it until days later, but this will be the first time you have ever sat down and had a deep, emotional conversation as father and daughter. It doesn't matter what was said as much as how it made you feel close to him. You discover that he has wanted to be there for you all these years, and that just because he's a reserved person does not mean that it didn't hurt watching you struggle or that he doesn't deal with his own feelings. You won't necessarily agree with everything that he says or thinks, but you'll appreciate his compassion. 

You will write Mom a letter (edited and re-edited multiple times) and read it to her in a therapy session. It's a little more tiring because the both of you will go back and forth about doing a session together for weeks, so it will definitely be nerve-racking. But it won't be as dramatic as you picture it to be. There will be emotion and there will be tears; she'll say a lot of things that you're already aware of, but it's different when your therapist affirms her perspective as well. You will walk out of there feeling relieved that you did it, but extremely overwhelmed by the discussion and all that you have to process, much of which you will continue to do for a while. The best thing is that you'll be able to say what you need to say so that you can move forward

Some will try to warn you that this might have made things worse, and others will repeatedly ask you what was said. But you know that this is between you and your mother and no one else's business, so you stand firm. That is exactly where bravery comes in: choosing to tune out the noise and gradually come to your own conclusions, despite the outside influences. This is the first time that you'll understand how everything your parents did and continue to do for you was an act of love. You think that because your parents know you so well, that they should be able know what you need. But here's the thing: every person gives and receives love in different ways, and doing so in a way that you might not recognize doesn't indicate a lack of love. It more or less shows that all of us have limitations, including you. It's not a question of whether or not they love you or you loving them, but how to communicate that when you have different love languages.

Know that you will wrestle, doubt, and wonder, and that is all OK. It's not always easy to accept people for who they are, particularly when it's easier to picture change in your head. You won't admit this right now, but deep down you do struggle with that: You don't want to be walked all over (due to someone else's behavior), but it's also frustrating feeling like you have to adjust to every one else's flaws, yet no one has to adjust to yours. You're not sure how to accept their past choices without denying how each one affected you personally. 

That's OK too. You'll get there. You might have to do it more than once, but you will.

The good news is that by the time I'm done writing this, you'll be in a place where you're more self-aware, and therefore can overcome it. You don't have to hold onto certain ideals or myths anymore, because you're no longer trying to just survive. In fact, you want to do more than that: you want to succeed, you want to grow, and you can't do that unless you loosen your grip. It's scary, not knowing what it will all look like when the divorce is over and done with. You want to lean into hope, but not so much that you become blind. Believe me, I get that. 

You have done a lot of brave things, and will come through to the other side. Have faith, and trust that God will carry you and mold you, and all will be well in the end.

photo credit: Mike_tn via photopin cc

When My Heart Breaks For Theirs

I do not want to go to deep into the meaning of this poem, or reveal any specific names out of respect for these people. But I'm sure we've all been there; watching a person(s) from a distance as they struggle and hurt themselves repeatedly. What's worse is that there is that there is very little that can be done on my part, aside from praying for these people and listening to them when needed. But even that can be tough, particularly when you want to scream and yell about just how badly they're destroying themselves. At the same time, I also have my own life to live and cannot fully bear a burden that isn't mine to take on. The words will hopefully explain themselves. 

Watch, Hurt, Hope

She’s just seventeen and still a child in many ways

Yet needs a prayer for something bigger than she can understand

She’s put her trust in all the wrong people

Built a foundation on people and things

Tired of loving and being left over and over

She tells her friend’s that life’s not worth living

For over twenty years

They threw themselves into what was only temporary

They claimed it didn’t matter and that’s how things would be

But at the end of the day all they do is blame each other

Neither one of them is happy

He has been struggling to find his way for most of his life

Running around in circles

One minute he’s confident, the next he’s lost again

He cries out in anger and frustration

Yet doesn’t seem to understand personal responsibility

Here I stand

Looking from the outside in

My heart breaks for such pain

A kind of pain that doesn’t seem to end

I want them to know that I care

That love will always be there

Still I hesitate for a fear of being ignored due to indifference

So in this place I pray

For healing and peace

For forgiveness and mercy

For peace and starting over

That what I call home may become a place of sunshine again

Rather than a place of sadness and bitterness

A world of gray

The Smallest of Times

Day 24-Celebration 

What did you celebrate this year? 

Aside from today being Christmas Eve, where in my Christian faith I celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ and enjoy a time of laughter and family, there are many other occasions in which I toasted and look back upon with gratitude. I'm not going to go into too much detail since I have to help with last minute preparations and getting ready before we go to Christmas services at my family's Catholic church. But here are the smaller, but no less significant celebrations that I took part in:

I celebrated my twentieth birthday; that is, surviving my teen years

I celebrated making it through two semesters in an awful living situation

I celebrate my ability to succeed in grow during two years of college

My grandparents fiftieth wedding anniversary

Oddly enough, I celebrated on the day and I chose to start going into therapy again. It has been over a year that I've been getting help, and I have never felt more present or aware of who I am and what I've been through. 

I celebrated a variety of birthdays, and will be celebrating my twenty-first birthday a little over a month from now. 

I celebrate my health, and the health of my loved ones

And above all, I celebrate being alive and for coming as far as I have. I will never take that for granted. 

Whether you celebrate Christmas or another holiday, may you have a blessed day (or multiple days) surrounded by people that mean the most to you, God bless!

Gathering: A Breath Of The Southwest

Day 3-Gathering

What was the most memorable event/gathering that you attended or held in 2012?

When my parents approached me about going with them to Colorado over Labor Day weekend, I (literally) jumped at the chance. I was not about to go through another weekend of winding up completely exhausted (my freshman year) or crying a bucket of tears on my bedroom floor (sophomore year). I was feeling that itch to get away from the chaos of campus, as I often do when student life becomes stressful.

But this wasn't just a simple getaway; we would be primarily going to visit my brother at the Air Force Academy since it was his parents/family weekend up there. Along with that, we would also be officially celebrating my grandparents fiftieth wedding anniversary.

It was my first time being back in two years; the last time we took a little mini-vacation so that my brother could do an unofficial visit at the Air Force. I was kind of nervous that the wildfires (back in June) had swallowed up the majority of the natural elements that surrounded the place. There was some truth to that, but not from what I could see.

While my siblings and I occasionally have our differences, I had missed mine very much. Seeing my brother for the first time in two months was amazing. I don't mention this a whole lot, but that kid is like my twin, even though we technically are not. We just have strikingly different personalities, almost to the point of being completely opposites. But he is the reason I have been able to physically accomplish as much as I have; without having him as an example, I might not have gained the motivation to crawl, walk, and a lot of other things, particularly when I was little.

We spent a lot of time doing activities related to the Academy and the wrestling team, which I didn't mind; it was interesting to see how things worked around there, and made me appreciate the things that I have at my school (although the lack of structure can be tempting). There were a few instances where I teared up, such as the fly-over during the cadet parade. I felt so proud to have a sibling that is serving our country and that he gets to do all these things. Don't get me wrong, I've had uncles and grandfathers that have served as well; but for some reason, it didn't hit as close to home. Probably because I never got to see them in the uniform or see the kinds of things that they did.

This may sound silly, but another part that I genuinely enjoyed was the car rides back and forth to different places. Mom would always know to turn on the Country music station for me, and I'd sit back and watch the different mountains go by as we passed them. Hearing Brad Paisley, Jason Aldean, and while taking in such incredible views, everything felt a little bit easier. It was relaxing. It was simple.

It reminded me of what you're able to see and experience when you stop stressing out and just sit back and enjoy life. 

The end of our trip culminated in having dinner at Cheyenne Mountain Resort for my Grandparents wedding anniversary celebration. Not only was it remarkable to be able to toast to such a milestone (especially today given the divorce rate) but we did so in a place filled with incredible natural beauty. 

I was a little depressed on our way to the airport; there's something about Colorado (or maybe the Southwest in general) that is peaceful and uncomplicated. I can't say that I would like to live in the country because of how spread out everything is. However, if God allows it, it would be wonderful to have a little place to go and just get away from the craziness when I feel the need to. 

Ultimately, the main reason why that weekend was so special because I had practically everything that I hold dear to me in one place: family, love, and the simple things.

Stream of Consciousness: Summer Changes

Coming home has always been a double-edged sword, particularly this time around. I got out of a bad living situation and have learned to treasure the time that I get to spend with my family. Thus far, I have wonderful memories of memorial day weekend, my grandparents fiftieth wedding anniversary celebration, and Father's day. I love taking trips to the grocery story with my Mom (Ok, anything involving shopping, really). I love seeing movies and getting coffee afterward. I love being able to catch up with friends that I haven't seen or even talked to in a long time.


This time around, I'm more aware and I'm comfortable with that awareness. It used to be that whenever school let out for the summer, I would constantly become anxious and frustrated; there was this big hype of "summertime and the living is easy!" This romanticized notion that everybody was always doing something and hanging out together. For the longest time, I felt  a little jealous and left out.


But recently, I had a conversation with someone over the phone, where we were basically talking about how our schedules either consisted of work or school. Sometimes both. And it dawned on me that as you get older, summer isn't really "summer" anymore. Sure, they still have their days of chilling out and having fun, but it's more about work and/or doing something in terms of your future career. It's bittersweet, but it is also part of life.


Oddly enough, I no longer fear being by myself for long periods of time. Not to say that I've become anti-social; rather, I'm learning how to appreciate my alone time and not see it as a bad thing. I'm getting to know myself more through journaling, and learning how to make time to pray and connect with God. It's especially nice because I struggled with finding that time during the semi-chaotic months of living up at school. But more importantly, I'm learning how to step away from all that craziness and center myself each day. 


However, being home has always been emotional; I come back to circumstances that to this day have not been exactly resolved, nor have I found any peace from it. And that's the toughest part: being able to find contentment in where I'm at, in the midst of what can be confusing and down right painful


I do miss school; I miss the independence and being able to go where I want, on my own time. I miss the closeness and community with being there; Bible Studies, movie nights, random adventures. I miss going out with my friends. Most of all, I miss the emotional intimacy. 


A couple of nights ago, I had a dream that seemed completely out of the blue. I was sitting in a car and while texting a friend, I said "I just need you to hold me right now." Silly as it may be, that's all I remember. 


Is it strange to easily remember how it felt to have a certain person put their arms around you? Not exactly in regards to the way that this person made me feel, but quite literally, the memory of their touch. But that's for another time and another topic. 


I'm at a point where I'm not looking too far back, and I'm not looking to far forward. I'm trying to make the most of right here and right now; I don't want to wait for a crisis or some kind of dangerous wake up call to start enjoying the simple things. 


Things might change, but you never know what kind of blessings those changes will bring.

Redefining Wonder Woman

I gave myself the nickname "Wonder Woman" when I was sixteen, the summer before my junior year. It was during a time where I literally had to pick myself up and move forward, despite the loss that I was feeling. And when I looked back on it a little over a year later, I realized that I had survived somehow. Even though it didn't necessarily stack up against what I had struggled with in the past, I honestly didn't know how I was going to get through it, because it literally rocked me to the core. 


It became more relevant after I graduated high school and started my freshman year of college. I wanted to prove (mostly to my family) that I was capable of succeeding away from home. I wanted those that had watch me stumble over the years to see that I was happy and that the difficult times were behind me (that was true in some ways and not so much in others). And I wanted to show the people that I was meeting and getting to know that having Cerebral Palsy didn't affect me in a big way; I didn't want to be recognized for my physical attributes, but for my personality and heart. 


The entire time, my whole thought process was "I have defied the odds so many times before, and I can sure as hell do it again." 


And so I did, or at least I tried. Physically, I did a lot of things that made me look like I was crazy; I carried around Lord knows how much stuff in a backpack that was a little too big for me. I hardly ever took the bus, regardless of the weather (that still hasn't changed very much). I did things even when I was absolutely worn out and needed to rest.  I kept going until I couldn't go anymore. 


Emotionally, I tried to put on a brave face and convince myself that this new phase of my life wasn't that hard. I would tell myself "hey, this isn't so bad. Things could be a lot worse. Stop crying and be grateful for what you have." 


It was all so exhausting, but I was scared out of my mind. I didn't want to be looked down upon or pitied by anybody. I felt that I needed to act like an adult, not a child. That was how I carried myself for a little over a year. 


But in these recent months, I have begun to taken a different approach to the concept of strength. It is not always about putting on a smile for the public, or simply saying "I'm fine" when someone asks me how I'm doing. It's about being authentic and honest. It's about having the ability to connect with someone and sharing your heart with that person. 


And I think that's why I try to my best to tell the truth, especially on this blog. I don't think it's worth it to try to live a life without love and support, simply because we're scared of what other people might think. Or, because we're scared of getting hurt. As terrifying as it is, I find it ultimately a lot better and fulfilling to reach out to someone and risk pain, then to risk missing out on making an amazing memory, and possibly forming an amazing relationship. 


I posted my new definition of strength on Facebook a month or two ago: true strength is not trying to hold  yourself together all the time, but to have the courage and ability to say that you cannot do it on your own. 


When it comes to personal strengths, I used to believe it had to do with what you were good at, and what you could give to the world. That is still true in a way, but I've also learned that it is about what makes me feel strong, and brave, and capable of doing just about anything that I set out to do. 


For me, it is being surrounded by a good support system, especially my family. I don't know where I would be right now if not for my parents and my siblings. They have given me more than I can comprehend, and I feel blessed to still have them at this time in my life. I am blessed to have the friends that I have over time become incredibly close to, and that I now consider family. Not only have each of them been an example of guidance, but they have allowed me to make my own decisions in confidence. 


It is about having a faith in God, a faith that I have at times questioned and doubted. Through that, I see the world and the people in it as a place of beauty and wonder. I am the kind of person that likes to stop and give thanks for the smallest of things, even something as simple as walking around or giving somebody a hug. From a worldview, I may be a bit naive and somewhat odd; however, it is what brings me joy and hope, and that is enough. 


A third personal strength, and a gift, is writing. Throughout my life, it has been my second voice, and the most genuine way that I can express myself. In these last few months, keeping a journal has helped me to sort out my often conflicting thoughts, and to keep everything in perspective. I hope that my writing on this blog has helped somebody, if only one person. And I hope that one day, my writing might do some good for the world. 


Through it all, I still view myself as wonder woman. I love with all I have, but I am also willing to fight with all I have. I can be a bit feisty, especially if you're trying to get me to do something that I don't want to do. I still push myself to do my absolute best, regardless of the situation. 


Yet, I now take the time to step back and rest when I feel the need to. More specifically, I just let myself be Alyx. I let myself be a human being. 


I still think that I have a long way to go. The choice to be strong, and how to be strong, is a daily journey. I am grateful for the walls that I have run into and the mistakes that I have made in order to be where I'm at right now. 


But I will not forget that strength is simply not what you do, whether it be on a physical or emotional level. Strength is about how you treat your heart, and how you treat the hearts of others.


I am not Wonder Woman because of my body, or my attitude. I am Wonder Woman because of my heart.

Stream Of Consciousness: Miracle(s)

It is  my twentieth birthday; as of today, I will no longer be considered a teenager, or a child, for that matter. I can look in the mirror and officially say that I am both an adult and a woman.


And while the definition of "adult" can be argued, I must say that being twenty is still somewhat flabbergasting. For many years, I could only dream about what this particular stage of my life would be like. I always wanted to be older, for a variety of reasons. And now that I am, I have to say that I feel like I can genuinely enjoy right where I'm at. No, I don't miss being particularly young, but I'm not in a mad rush to go forward, either.


I realize that as far as our society is concerned, twenty is not a huge age. My friend once described it as sort of a tease; simply because you can do just about everything except legally drink. But when it comes to my own personal experiences, I would definitely say that this is an incredible feat; not only a milestone, but a genuine miracle.


For those not familiar with the story of my birth, I was basically born a premature baby and spent about four months in the NICU. In the early nineties, most newborns in those circumstances were predicted not to survive for very long, if at all. And even if they did live, doctors would spout out a list of do's and don'ts. I've never asked my parents if they were subjected to such. However, I'm pretty sure that the expectations weren't very high.


Cliche as it may be, I have proved them wrong. Dead wrong. And it's not over yet.


The miracle is not just about physical capabilities, but emotional ones too. I don't usually speak of this, but there was a time (well, more like several times) where I was ready to give up. I was convinced that I had been forever changed by the negativity and pain that I had endured previously; that my life was meant to be devoid of truly meaningful relationships, especially with my family. I hate saying this, but I had begun to prepare myself to live life completely on my own.


And in these last few months, I have both learned and seen that we're not made for that, nor are we meant for it. I am beyond grateful to God for giving me both the willpower and the courage to face the demons that I had been running from for a very long time.


I'm not going to predict where I'll be in how many years down the road; I find true joy in taking each day as it comes and being present in the current moment. I do have goals and aspirations, but a lot of them were previously discussed in my December and January posts.


However, if there is one thing that I can hope that my twenties will be defined by, it's that I will be able to allow my personality and heart to shine. I say this because the majority of my tween and teen years were dominated what other people thought of me; I was constantly trying to live up to various pieces of advice and expectations, and none of it ended up doing me any good. I am now in a place where I can say that I absolutely love and appreciate myself, and I don't want anyone else's views to hinder that.


I have come so incredibly far in life, and something tells me this particular journey has only just begun.

Following Bliss

Day 29-Bliss


What are three things that make you feel the most blissed out? What can you do to invite more of that into your life in 2012?


Too often this year, I found myself trading bliss for mediocrity; I didn't ask for what I wanted or needed, fearing that it would cause unnecessary conflict. I feared being told "no" for whatever reason. I basically sat back and settled for a lot of things that I knew deep down didn't make me happy. In a way, it has become normal for most people to want to just survive instead of thriving. 


Admittedly, I did sort of forget what makes me feel "blissed out" because I haven't been following very much of it lately. But thus far, the following things make me so incredibly slap-happy:


1. Spending time with friends and family-Sometimes it was coffee dates and sharing food in the middle of the dining hall with one other person. Sometimes it was cozy movie nights in, or fun nights out on the dance floor. But I've definitely realized how much I love being around other people and getting to know them. As for my family, I am in the process of beginning to understand a phrase that both my Mother and Grandmother have been reiterating to me since I was in high school: friends come and go, but your family will always be there for you. This past Christmas season has been especially wonderful because of that realization. 


2. Taking a risk/doing something that absolutely scares the crap out of me- Former First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt once said "Do one thing every day that scares you." No, the act of doing so isn't blissful. But the feeling that comes afterward; the immense swelling of pride, the increase in confidence, and the amount of fear that shrinks as I become more comfortable with it. It may not always turn out the way I want it to, but at least I'll know the outcome instead of having to wonder what might have happened. 


3. Enjoying nature-Although it makes me sound like a bit of a hippy, I found that taking the time to appreciate our natural surroundings is what often brings me the most joy and happiness. When I am swimming in a body of water, whether it be the ocean or a lake, I incredibly alive because of my ability to move so easily. When I am looking out at a sunset or whatever beautiful sight before me, I remember to give thanks for what I have and for the small joys I tend to overlook in the hustle and bustle of life. It's good to have that kind of reflection time and remember what is really important. 


While it's difficult to indefinitely include all of these things in the approaching year, I do believe it is possible if I really want to. It is more or less making time for it and making an actual point to do it. For example, in order to spend time with my friends, I would like to start having them over for dinner at least once a week. I want to find different activities that I can do with different people. That's going to involve some sort of planning and talking about what we're going to do and when we're going to do it.


 The second one isn't particularly easy because a lot of it has to do with opportunity; if there's one thing I have learned, it's that if you see a window of opportunity, use it. 


Never forget what brings you joy and what makes you feel alive. If you constantly forsake those things, you won't be living the life you could be. 

A Different View

Day 24-Family


Recall a special moment with your family from 2011. Describe in detail about what you want to remember about this memory forever.


There were so many special moments, where I could easily write multiple posts about how just important they were to me. But none have ever felt more poignant then the moments I had with my parents. 


A lot of them involved the simplicity of being able to sit down and talk, even though the topics were often difficult to discuss. For most of my life I have struggled with relating to my parents, and this was especially true in my early teenage years. I always hated when either of them said "I know how you feel" or "I've been there." At the time, I always viewed the gravity of any situation I was in being a hell of a lot bigger due to the physical limitations that I had to conquer. Add the fact that I was super emotional, so most attempts at having a heart to heart usually went south. 


But I feel like in 2011, there has definitely been a turning point. For the first time in my life, I've been able to see them not just as parents, but as people. They're people who have feelings, struggles, and their own needs. That's not to say that I never knew that, but I hardly paid attention to it growing up. 


It was also for the first time that I actually let them in on what was going on in my life. It was especially difficult for me to do beforehand because I didn't want to be a burden in the midst of our financial hardships. I didn't believe that they would understand what I was going through, despite there being more truth to that then I've realized. But perhaps the biggest reason was the same reason I have often struggled with letting anyone else in; I wanted to prove that I could achieve the goals that I had set and do what everyone else thought to be impossible.


While I was away at school, I would frequently call them up and talk to them about my roommate, classes, and so on. I don't know how I would have been able to get through these last three months if I hadn't been able to be honest with them. Sometimes it was a matter of "I am so stressed out and I have no clue what the hell I'm doing!" type of conversation. I guess Mom's and Dad's have a way of doing such, but for whatever reason they always knew how to calm me down. It was a little less stressful knowing that I had their love and support, as opposed to constantly trying to come up with a way to sugarcoat everything. 


I think that all of this is because I am no longer a child, realistically. Our relationship less parent to child and more of adult to adult. They've both been to college, so they both understand the obstacles that come with that particular experience; my Mother especially has been in my shoes, being that I am at her alma matter. Whatever I happen to go through down the road, they will most likely know a lot about that too. 


I wish I could do more for them, other then helping around the house and holding down the fort when needed. They have both sacrificed so much so that each of us kids can get to where we currently are, and eventually get to where we want to be. My hope is that in 2012, they can find joy in doing things for themselves and not only for mine and my siblings benefit


I always try to tell them how incredibly blessed and grateful I am to have them. Sometimes I don't always demonstrate it to the best of my ability; nevertheless, I hope they know.

My Favorite Things

Day 16-Love


What are the things (or people, or animals) that you love the most?


Oh jeeze, I can easily come up with an incredibly long list when it comes to this particular topic. But there are only a few things that I love- meaning, I cannot see myself ever existing without, because it is such a large part of who I am as well as a part of my history. And it is in no particular order.


1. My Family-It wasn't too long ago where I once believed that growing up meant moving away from your family, physically and emotionally. Little did I know just how much I would come to miss them and need them, especially this year. They have been the one constant thing in my life, and very much the reason why I am still standing today. As I'm trying my hardest not to cry and type at the same time, I hope they know how much I love and am grateful for each of them. Just as well are my friends, whom many have become my "second family" as I've gotten to know them. I am blessed to have all of them be a part of my life.


2. Disney-It was such a significant part of my childhood that at this point, it is pretty much just embedded in me. I have been to Disney World at least four times (which has convinced my Mom that I am going to get married there).  I've gone as every Disney princess for Halloween except Cinderella, Tinkerbell, and Repunzel. I nicknamed my prom dress from junior year my "Belle" dress, and I refuse to get rid of it. I have a  variety of stuffed animals, jewelry, pictures and movies related to the subject. Oh heck, I have a whole Pintrest board dedicated to it. I've been told that "it's for a little kids" but you know what I say to that? If it wasn't for adults, the entire company wouldn't exist!


3. Hugging-I am just an extremely affectionate person; if I don't get a hug at least every once in awhile, I start going nuts. The rest of my explanation is a whole separate post in itself.


4. The Beach-Between the beautiful water, the soft sand, the interesting-looking seashells...I might as well consider this a slice of heaven. Many will say it depends on where you go, which I is something that I strongly agree with. Regardless, I absolutely adore it, and have never felt more alive than from being in a natural body of water. My bedroom at home was recently redecorated into sort of a beach theme, so I have my own little "getaway" every time I come back from school.


5. Reading and Writing-I put both of these at the same type because they strongly go hand in hand. We would not be able to read things without people writing them. As much as it has been type-casted as a nerd hobby, I couldn't live without books. Feel free to shut off the TV for any amount of time, but if I can't read I might go so far as to break a few fingers. Writing is my form of self expression, and I feel blessed to be able to do what I do. I do understand now that I have a gift, and I intend not to waste any amount of it.


6. Coffee-I started drinking it when I was twelve and have not stopped since. Always with creamer and never black. I don't know why it has become somewhat of a romantic concept to me, but perhaps its because coffee is so freaking delicious!  It's the only liquid that I can drink slowly, and have began my own little collection of coffee cups. My last story that I wrote for my fiction class was actually based around the subject of coffee.




There are a ton of other sentiments, many which can be found in other posts on this blog. However, these are things that I believe sum up my personality the most, at least in a nutshell.

What A Hug Means To Me

I have this little Snoopy figurine-type thing sitting up on my desk in my apartment bedroom. I found it at Hallmark as I was shopping for apartment decorations; and even though it wasn't technically Disney-oriented, I knew that I had to have it. It says "Happiness...is a little hug." I honestly cannot think of anything that is more true, at least for me and in terms of who I am as a person. 


It has taken me awhile to fully understand why I take such a liking to physical touch. In one way, it started when I was about thirteen or fourteen; I had just started attending a church on a regular basis, and every Sunday I was always greeted and bid goodbye with an embrace, and the same was true whenever I went to the youth group during the week. Truth be told, during that time and for about three and a half years afterward, it was a sense of validation for me. Whether anyone was trying to communicate this with me or not, I often perceived as a sign of genuine acceptance and understanding. If that wasn't the case, my insecurities would come out like an ambush. 


Yet, I now believe that it started all the way back when I was a tiny baby, lying in an incubator in the NICU. Due to my premature birth, I wasn't quite developed yet and still had a bit of growing to do; so for the first couple months of life, I had to stay in this infant hospital bed, where my parents were not allowed to hold me for awhile. Instead of holding me, people had to stick their hands through the side holes in the incubator and could touch me or try to wrap their hands around my doll-sized head (from what I've been told, my Dad and both of my Grandfathers actually could). 


So it is not so much hugging that I'm sort of attached to, but rather physical touch in general. No, I'm not talking about anything relating to sex, but rather things like randomly leaning against somebody when I'm with my friends or family members. I can be a bit of a cuddle bug, so if that happens, try not to be too surprised. 


In all actuality, physical touch is often described as a "love language" (Although I would prefer to call it a "personal language" because the word "Love" does not always pertain to romance). As of today, it is how I personally like to give and receive affection. For instance, when I give a person a hug, most of the time it is my way of telling someone that I care about them. Again, it doesn't have to be this huge romantic gesture or made into a big deal at all; sometimes I do it because I simply want to, or because it's just second nature. Most importantly, it is how I communicate and connect with people when I either don't have or can't come up with the words to say out loud. 


And yet, I am aware that not everyone has those preferences; if I'm not sure, I will usually ask. My sister is somewhat anti-touch, and even though it's difficult for me to do, I have to be respectful of it. 


I am also aware of the fact that some people (mostly guys) may or may not try to take advantage of me because of that factor. This is where I can appreciate being an observer, because I tend to pick up on the tiniest of details and/or signals. Thus far, nothing hurtful or dangerous has happened, aside from the occasional drunk creeper try to pick me up when I go out dancing. 


There was a time when I thought being affectionate (or asking for it) was a bad thing; Last year I rarely ever asked any of my friends to just hold me for a minute, thinking that I might come across as "needy" or childish. Most of the time, whenever I am having a problem or struggling with something, I don't want to talk about it a whole lot; I would prefer to just be held, if only for a moment or two. Emotionally, it was one of the toughest periods I've gone through during this phase of my life; It was as if I was almost cut off from the people that I cherished the most. 


In time, I realized that regardless of how anyone else viewed it, wanting to be close to people is just a part of who I am. I don't do it or ask for it every single day, but I do need to have close relationships in my life and to connect with others somehow, otherwise I don't function real well. There are those that understand it, and some that don't. Some, no matter how many times I try to explain it, never will.


Hugging, physical touch, whatever you want to call it; not only is it a language, but it is a gift. It is a gift that should be given without any sort of hesitation or expectation to be given something in return. It is one of those ordinary things that I see as sacred, and something that should never go without appreciation.