Listening

Recently, there have been some very personal things (and some not so personal things) that I've been trying to deal with. The sad part is, though, is that I don't feel like I'm dealing with them very well. I'm almost 83% sure that what is keeping me from being able to deal with these problems is that I've not been about to really voice them to someone else and work them out that way.

I'm an odd kind of open person. If you ask me things directly, I will always, always, always tell you the truth. I figure that if you're asking the question that you either already know the answer and just want a conformation, or that you have mentally prepared yourself for what ever answer that I may give. Either way, you asked and therefore you deserve the truth.

But see, internal things, things that deal only with me. Or maybe it will deal with me and a small group of others. The amount of people, really doesn't matter. What matters is how I deal with a situations, my emotions, how I show them or how I feel like I can show them. All of these, are things that I keep largely to myself. You might hear me complain about something once or twice, or you might get a over view of the situations, but the internal parts of the situation, the guts, are kept out of site.

Example:

- "That guy was such a douche"

- I'd probably leave out the part where I went back to my room and cried for a few hours.

I deal with things by myself first. I don't give away raw emotions without believing that the person receiving them would understand and would know how to deal with them. The few people that I talk emotional stuff over with, tend to get filtered emotions.

The sad part is, is that I don't really trust anyone enough to really spill everything out. I've learned through many ventures, that people will listen to the start of it. From there, they will either talk about themselves and try to connect (some times they can, which is great and helpful. Other wise, not so much) or they try to make light of the situation or they just change subject all together.

None of those things are really helpful though, when what you really need is just to pour it all out. To cry and use every tissue, paper towel, and roll of toilet paper available. To talk and babble, and maybe not make as much sense as you'd like to, but you're saying what comes to mind first and all that's in your mind is pain and hurt.

What you really need is a witness to this meltdown, to this pain and sorrow. You need someone who can testify later that, no, you weren't alright and probably still aren't. But you've had your breakdown. They are able to help you look over all the cards that you've laid out, all 52 plus the two jokers and probably a few of the instructional cards that come in a deck.

What I need is someone willing to be strong enough to let be breakdown in front of them. To be able to just let all my pieces fall to the ground and allow me to wallow in them. Because there's this back up. A whole fucking years worth of backup, actually.

All these internal guts things are leaking through when I least expect it. I'm so afraid that I'll snap and just.... lose it in the line at walmart. Just... sit down right there and cry and howl. I'm.... afraid for myself of breaking.

To some extent, I'm afraid that I might need to start counseling again. The only problem I see there, is that I don't know if I have the time I'd need to build a relationship with a counselor to feel comfortable enough to let all this out.

I just... need a witness.

I'm A Bad Girl

I'm such a bad, bad kid. Just a few minutes ago, less than an hour ago, I ate a late lunch. I waltzed up to the counter and ordered my veggie burger and mozzarella sticks (cause I was really hungry). I hadn't ate since a bagel this morning. I had ate a cracker snack, and a cookie snack, but I those snacks didn't really fill me up. I was ready to chow down.

When Adam and I sat down, I arranged myself at the our table like always. I have to eat the main part of my meal first. This time, I had to get my burger first. While Adam kept talking, I started to chew.

Something was off.

I was not eating a veggie burger, my friends. In fact I was eating a real life cow.

THE HORROR!!!!

Not missing a beat, I took another bite. Not once telling Adam what was going on. This was going to be my little secret. I had purchased the fucking thing, I was going eat it dammit.

I'm such a bad, naughty girl.

You don't understand. It's been 5 years since I've had meat. It's been even longer since I've had red meat. I was... thrilled. I was disgusted and repulsed at myself. I had a secret. I adore secrets.

The sad thing about all of this, is that it tasted awful. I ate all of it of course, cause you don't waste food. But eating it... it tasted burnt. It tasted like dead flesh. Why did I ever want to eat this stuff again? I had been thinking about trying a chicken something for a while now, but after that burger, I don't think I will...

I know people that try to be vegetarians. They do really well for a while and then one day they cave and eat meat. They think "OH NO! I've messed up!" and give the whole thing up. They stop trying because they messed up that one time. Messing up doesn't mean that you have to throw the whole thing out of the window, it just means that you messed up that day.

Sadly, I'm sure that this burger will upset my stomach. I can already feel my tummy getting all... rumblely.

No more meat for me, thanks.

Ghost from the Past

I saw Brandon today. There are a few of you who know exactly who I'm talking about. One in particular who probably hopes that I threw a right hook and knocked out 3 teeth and left 4 more dangling. Honestly though, I've yet to hate him. There was a week in the beginning where I was frustrated, but that was it. I've never been one to become angry. It's a waste of my time.

So I saw him.

After all this time, of wondering about how he's doing. After all this time, of hoping that things work out with him and his wife (cause God knows that I don't have the strength to be in his life full time again). All this time of small reminders popping up out of no where of him, leaving me to silently tuck them back into the folds and move on. All this time... and he was right there at the bonsai booth.

When Caleb decided to go fishing this weekend, I had thought that I wouldn't have anyone to go to the Spoon Bread Festival with me. Luckily, I still have my best guy friend Adam to drag along to places. The whole time, Adam had talked about how he wanted to look at the bonsai trees if they had them this year. He was excited about them. Before we left he said that I liked tiny/miniature things because they made him feel like a giant. I thought it was pretty funny.

So we make a circle around all the booths and come upon the bonsais. Small, twisty trees that are, admittedly, pretty neat. Standing next to them, was of course Brandon. I heard his voice before I actually saw him. Heard his laugh. If you've ever met Brandon, you know that his laugh is probably the best thing ever. Once you hear it, your day is 100x better. It's not an option, it's a universal rule.

There was hugging, a small bit of catching up. He pointed out his mom and his sister to me. We smiled. There was a small bit of "I went and saw Eat Pray Love" "Me too!" And then, we went our separate ways.

Of course there was this gigantic pit of "I WAS ONCE IN LOVE WITH YOU!!!" inside of me. I remember once that there was this connection between us. Today, seeing him, it wasn't there. I'm kind of glad that it wasn't. If it had been, it would have made the whole thing harder. Walking away would have been killer. To know that in my heart, there was still this connection there with him, separating wouldn't have been on my top priorities. So, yeah, I didn't think I would be glad (back in the day of crying about it nightly) but now I am. Now it works.

I'm glad that I got to see him. It's always disheartening to have someone leave your life that once knew you so well. I most always try to stay friends with my ex's, whenever possible. I don't know if there will ever be a friendship with Brandon. Mainly because of the circumstances that surrounded everything. From us being together, to us not being together. It's unlikely that it'll happen, and at this point, I'm okay with that.

Emotional Cycle - Motherhood

I feel like my body goes through this cycle, and it does so without my permission. No, not a monthly cycle that most all women go through, but an emotional one. A cycle where my goals and ambitions change, where what I want in life is possibly on a different train car than the one I'm in at the moment.

I've found myself going from wanting to open a bakery downtown, wanting to get married, to just a few seconds ago looking at baby blogs and longing for a child of my own. This is a predicable cycle for me. I often daydream about a career that I could possibly start and live off of in a well off fashion. This is always followed by the desire to stare at David's Bridal's website and pick out two or three dresses that I would love to get married in. At this point, after wanting to fall in love and get married for so long, I could have the bare basics of a wedding planned in under a week.

The next part of the cycle is the heart breaking one. The one where I crave motherhood with such an intensity that the thought of staying on my carefully plotted schedule of waiting to get married, have a career, a job, and a life all to myself feels like a waste of time. What am I doing sitting here, writing a blog and avoiding studying? Shouldn't I be off preparing to become a mother?

I know this is crazy sounding. In a week or so, I'll be glad that I'm not pregnant and able to live my life without worrying about if what I'm eating is healthy for the child. I'll be glad that I can still go out with my friends, smoke hookah at Prince's, drink at Silas's and generally still be able to be a wild and crazy teen. I know all of this, yet, I'm still reading through Dear Baby and Kayla's blog with this longing and yearning to be a mother.

Back in the spring, I was in the same spot. My cousin Melissa had given birth to a beautiful baby boy, and as I stood in the hospital looking at this amazing child, my heart told me that I was meant to be a mother. It's not the first time that my heart has told me such, but I believe that it was the first time I actually listened. I really do believe that I'm meant to be a mother.

There are some many of my close friends that scoff at the thought of having children. They see kids as snot nosed brats that do nothing but scream and get in the way of stuff. When I try to express this want, this need to be a mother, they don't understand. I have literally had to sit through hours of being told that I should never have kids, because they would just ruin my life. You know, great, kids aren't for them. But for me, everything is really secondary to finding a wonderful partner in life and to experience being a mother.

I look forward to buying onesies, blankets, bassinets, dippers, cute little hats that will never fit or stay on but sit around the room in hopes that someday they will, shoes that will never really be worn. All of this along with the feeling of a child inside of me, holding a baby for the first time, waking up at all hours of the night just to check on the child. I want it. I look forward to it.

And in a week or so, I'll be glad that I'm not pregnant.

It's all part of my emotional cycle.

Wedding

From a photo shoot I did a few weekends ago. It was a very lovely wedding and the Bride and Groom we just wonderful.

The Dilemma With Facebook

It's not much of a secret these days that Facebook is a popular site. I myself spend many a bored moments on it in an attempt to waste time. It works too, the website is probably the best way to make the minutes pass by. With all the applications, games and pages to view, it's easy to get swept into the maze that is Facebook.

One shouldn't forget, however, that the most integral part of Facebook was the soul purpose that it was created, to keep in touch with friends both old and new. But with such a large user base these days, I've found myself faced with a problem. There are many people on the site (nice people too, I might add) that request my friendship.

For one reason or another, I don't particularity want to add any of these people. That odd kid from my politics class? Nope. My mother's best friend? Um... No. All the 13 year olds that have my mother as a teacher and think that it would be "cool" to add me? N.O. My mother in general isn't even on my friends list guys. I mean... really.

As public as Facebook is, I still feel like I should have a wall between me and most of the rest of the world. I try to not add family, but I do have my exceptions, like my dad's side of the family that lives in Kansas, Texas, and various other places. I never see them, nor do they have much opportunity to see me. So yeah, I have them added. Other than a "Did your mom try to kill you?!" comment from my aunt when I got a new piercing, they don't tend to cause me too many problems. Then again, mom always claims that they're a wild bunch anyway.

And not to get me wrong when I start this paragraph, but I love my church family. They worry about me and show concern when others don't get it. They're wonderful people with good intention. That being said, I'm not much of a.... good kid. I do lots of wild unpredictable things that they don't.... understand. I try to only have my youth group friends added, they seem to be the most understanding. Which, honestly, isn't surprising since they too are growing up in the world that I am (though I'm pretty sure they're making a harder attempt at not drinking and having sex and such.)

Of course, I have a separation between what goes on the internet and what happens in my life. I mean, I don't doubt I'd be seen in a much different light if I posted my every step online (even though April and others may get micro updates when stuff happens). I do sensor myself as well, because I honestly don't know who's looking and who will say what to who-else. So I keep my "fucks" and "oh shits" to moments where I feel that the right audience may receive them, i.e. not on Facebook.

But honestly, Facebook makes me feel odd. While staying connected to people I knew in high school is amazing, they're not ... my closest friends anymore. The stuff I tell them now, isn't going to be the same stuff that I used to tell them sitting in the hall ways of my old high school. I feel odd talking to people that once called me often and they say something along the lines of "I miss you! We never talk!" And I know that the loss of communication is two sided, but they're automatically made me feel like the guilty party.

I'm all about moving on, becoming a new person and discovering myself. I also feel like there are tons of people on my friends list that don't see it that way. They miss high school. It doesn't matter why, either they feel like it was a simpler time and their glory days or they haven't found anything to really like about life afterwards. They simply don't want to move on and by trying to keep in communication and "reminding me" of how much fun we used to have in high school, they're trying (without realizing it) to hold me back as well.

There are days when I want to delete most of my 400+ friends on Facebook and just keep the ones that are in the here and now. The ones that I love and cherish the friendship and connection that I have with them. Maybe I'm too nice of a person to delete people from my past. Maybe I fear that I'll hurt their feelings if they ever realized that I had removed them. Maybe in a few years, Facebook wont be the "IT" site, and I'll be even more selective with who I let in.

Getting Ready To Move Again.

Right now, as I lay in bed and type this, I'm sick. I've developed a nasty little rash/welts all over my poor little body. The most likely cause is that it's a reaction to taking NuvaRing. Right now, it looks like I'm just gonna have to hope that no babies pop out of no where at me.

While this summer has been super fun, I can't actually remember most of it. It's not because I was in a drug induced haze the whole time, it was just... nothing special. I had planned on highlighting the best parts of the summer in this post, but have sadly realized that I can't remember enough to do so.

What I do remember is:
- Jessica and I going on a date to eat mexican in Manchester.

- April's birthday (in which she saw my boobs).

- Forth of July at the Pinnacles.

- Going with my mother and her college friends to Tennessee.

Those were all super fun times, and I'm glad that those that share those times with me were able to do so.

In exactly a week, I'll be moving back to Richmond. I'm SUPER excited about this. I love my family, don't get me wrong, but I hate living in Jackson County. It's too small, too much gossip, and not enough stuff to do.

I cannot wait to start classes. If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm kind of a nerd. Learning is probably one of my favorite things ever. I've been known to stay up till 3 or 4 in the morning just watching TED videos. The very thought of having textbooks gets me all a flutter, I mean, it's not like I pay for mine.

Hopefully, this will be the last time I actually live in J.Co. I have no intention of moving back home again. Either in December, or at the end of spring semester, I will move into an apartment. I will decorate it, and clean it, and it will be filled with a love that will melt the hearts of many. Because that's what kind of home I want. That and the ability to walk around naked.