This weird thing happens when you move away from home. Things change.
Now I know, I've said this a million times since I moved to Illinois that things are different and relationships change but I've become increasingly aware lately that it's more than that.
I learned really quickly who my real friends were. My real friends are the ones that have listened to the recording of my homesickness on repeat for a year. They've answered the crying phone calls at 1am (okay 11pm west coast time), they've calmed me down when I'm in my head, they've texted and snap chatted relentlessly when I've fallen off the map. My friends are my rocks. They keep my feet on the ground. The people that I've realized are my real friends are the ones that make the effort when I just can't anymore. That make the effort to make sure we talk and see each other, that don't let the distance be the reason it dies.
It's really hard sometimes. It's hard seeing pictures of everyone together while I'm here. Don't get me wrong, I don't regret taking the opportunity here, but I didn't know how much I relied on my people to be okay until I didn't have them around me. It's like there's a part of me that's missing.... empty. Not that I'm unhappy, just empty.
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I hate feeling angry and agitated all the time. It feels like there is something about this whole situation that just has me perpetually on edge and quick to anger. Don't get me wrong, I've always had a temper. It's not something new to me but I'm not used to not being able to control it. I always feel like I am at the brim, fuming and hoping I don't go over the edge. It's a weird feeling for me.
I feel like I've lost, or am losing, my connections to my friends back home. Most of my friends here in Illinois are gone, and most of the people that are here aren't people that I am close to or that I'd prefer to not spend time with. I feel like I'm floating, in purgatory, like I'm in this place where I'm easy to forget. Out of sight out of mind I guess.
I'm sure this isn't true but it's 100% how it's felt lately. Everyday I wish I could come home. Come back home. Come back to my life. Come back to where things and people made sense. I just feel like I'm in a perpetual state of drowning. I can see the surface, I can see the sun, but I can't break through and I can't breathe and no one can hear my screams. I miss the way my life used to be. I hate that I am in a constant state of struggle and I hate feeling like I am repeating the same "woe-is-me" but I don't feel like I have any way to process and I'm just slowly falling further and further down the rabbit hole.
I can feel people getting more distant and I'm digging my nails in trying not to lose them. Trying not to lose the bit of security I feel like I have. Trying to maintain my connections to the people at home that have made me feel normal. I don't feel so normal anymore. I'm starting to wonder if I am one of those people that keep at a distance. Like, I'm feeling like maybe I'm doomed to be someone that people use as someone of convenience but rarely as someone substantial. Maybe those are the people I'm attracted to, the people I try to be close to.
It's hard feeling sometimes like people have their close friends, and then they have me when they have no one else. This summer has felt so empty because the people that I do spend time with, the few that I hang out with regularly, are all gone and for the first time in a long time I feel alone yet surrounded by other people.
I've been struggling to leave my house. I go to work and come home. Then I don't leave again. Rinse and Repeat. I don't like doing things on my own because I was once told that only those that have no one is forced to do things on their own. I don't wanna hit that point. A year later and I think there are days that I am still trying to figure out where I belong...
6.28.2014
6.10.2014
What is Safety? #Notonemore and #Yesallwomen
In light of the shooting at Reynolds High School today I am overwhelmed with thoughts of what it means to be safe and who makes those choices. So often other people take our lives in their own hands. Sometimes it is out of love, other times out of hate, sometimes we don't know the reasons.
Safety is just a strange thing to think about. I come from a community of women that will never feel "safe" because someone took that away from them. A community where everywhere has a danger to it because the person they thought was there to protect them violated them and/or that trust. Lately there has been this focus on the #yesallwomen hashtag and I have heard SOOO much backlash around it. Like women are blaming all men. There is so much more to it then that.
Being someone that has been in one, or a few, of those relationships it can become a way your frame how you look at things. When you've been forced to do things, or you've been isolated from your friends and family, or you've had your decisions made for you, you look at things differently. You respond to things differently.
I think of how I have never been able to stay in one house/apartment for longer than a year because there is risk. It takes a long time to show friends where I live because there is risk. I make different choices and ones that may not make sense to others because of the risk. It's not that I am thinking about the risks directly but they are just a part of my thinking now.
It's a part of my own personal risk management. I'm always looking at the way out. The quickest exit.
I think of how this isn't just becoming something that people in bad relationships are experiencing. I've never been in a shooting. I've never lived that so I cannot by any means speak to what that experience is like. I remember the Clackamas Town Center shooting and how many of my friends were there. How their immediate thoughts were on the quickest exit and where their loved ones are. I think about how there are children and college students that are being faced with the reality of gun violence constantly.
Schools shouldn't be the place they are being faced with this. I've worked with so many kids that come from poor neighborhoods, abusive homes, homes where they didn't know where the next meal was coming or if their parents would even be home, school was the consistency. I think about when my life was in turmoil with Javad and school was where I would thrive because it was consistent. So I think about the kids at Reynolds High School, located in an already difficult area of the metro, and think about how this shooting was that much more of a violation.
Sure it was a violation of their safety. But I worry about the kids where school was their place that they felt safe. Their place that they went to get away from the chaos and then this happened. I hope those kids still put their faith in their administrators and in their school to keep them safe. I hope that the kids can lean on each other and celebrate the life of the boy that was lost. I hope that the community will be there for each other instead of blaming people for how they could have done things differently.
Yes all women experience harassment and 1 in 4 will be abused in their life time. And I pray that not one more life will be taken by a bullet in a school. We live in rough times and I can only home and pray that everyone will stand together and not apart.
Safety is just a strange thing to think about. I come from a community of women that will never feel "safe" because someone took that away from them. A community where everywhere has a danger to it because the person they thought was there to protect them violated them and/or that trust. Lately there has been this focus on the #yesallwomen hashtag and I have heard SOOO much backlash around it. Like women are blaming all men. There is so much more to it then that.
Being someone that has been in one, or a few, of those relationships it can become a way your frame how you look at things. When you've been forced to do things, or you've been isolated from your friends and family, or you've had your decisions made for you, you look at things differently. You respond to things differently.
I think of how I have never been able to stay in one house/apartment for longer than a year because there is risk. It takes a long time to show friends where I live because there is risk. I make different choices and ones that may not make sense to others because of the risk. It's not that I am thinking about the risks directly but they are just a part of my thinking now.
It's a part of my own personal risk management. I'm always looking at the way out. The quickest exit.
I think of how this isn't just becoming something that people in bad relationships are experiencing. I've never been in a shooting. I've never lived that so I cannot by any means speak to what that experience is like. I remember the Clackamas Town Center shooting and how many of my friends were there. How their immediate thoughts were on the quickest exit and where their loved ones are. I think about how there are children and college students that are being faced with the reality of gun violence constantly.
Schools shouldn't be the place they are being faced with this. I've worked with so many kids that come from poor neighborhoods, abusive homes, homes where they didn't know where the next meal was coming or if their parents would even be home, school was the consistency. I think about when my life was in turmoil with Javad and school was where I would thrive because it was consistent. So I think about the kids at Reynolds High School, located in an already difficult area of the metro, and think about how this shooting was that much more of a violation.
Sure it was a violation of their safety. But I worry about the kids where school was their place that they felt safe. Their place that they went to get away from the chaos and then this happened. I hope those kids still put their faith in their administrators and in their school to keep them safe. I hope that the kids can lean on each other and celebrate the life of the boy that was lost. I hope that the community will be there for each other instead of blaming people for how they could have done things differently.
Yes all women experience harassment and 1 in 4 will be abused in their life time. And I pray that not one more life will be taken by a bullet in a school. We live in rough times and I can only home and pray that everyone will stand together and not apart.
6.04.2014
Family is chosen not given
I don't remember a ton from my childhood. Not because I have a bad memory but because I don't want to. It wasn't bad it just wasn't the years I want stamped in my brain forever.
Don't get my wrong, I have the most incredible mom ever. She's one of the strongest people I know, but even the strongest people have hard moments. When I was little were some of those hard moments. They're also probably the reason my mom and I are so close. We were all we had, or at least in my child-eyes that's how I saw it. I don't ever remember there being anyone else, outside the two of us, until my dad came along when I was like 8, and for a while he was just as my mom's friend (not the "we're dating but telling our kids we're friends" thing but like legitimately friends).
Granted my grandparents were always there swooping in. My Poppa taught me how men were supposed to act and acted as the male role in my childhood. (If you know my Poppa you know that these are big shoes to fill and that a) no one will ever measure up and b) he can be a bit intimidating). My momma taught me that I didn't ever need a man. We managed everything on our own, though it wasn't always the best way and there tended to be swearing and tears where there didn't need to be.
There's something about family where it's not given but chosen. There are whole sides of my genetics that I couldn't identify if you paid me. Sure they're "family" if you look on a family tree but I don't know them. They didn't contribute to who I am. They weren't the ones I fought with when I was using, or the ones that challenged me when they didn't see that I had long term goals. I may not always like the people in my family, but that's because they're family. That's kinda in the rules isn't it?
When my mom and dad got married I was nine years old and had an attitude the size of Russia (for size comparison I have shrunk it down a bit so it's only about the size of Canada now which is about 1/2 the size). I hated my dad. Sure I told my mom when he proposed that I was good with them getting married cause what else are you supposed to say when you're like 8 years old and your mom looks happy, and your being offered a consistency and balance to your otherwise chaotic (yet always an adventure) life. I wanted my mom to be happy and she was, and he bought me things and the food was good so all my needs were met in the mind of an 8 year old, but I hated him. I hated that he told me I couldn't do things. I hated that he made it so I couldn't sleep with my mom any night I wanted. I hated that he would punish me. I hated that he acted like a dad because I'd never had one before.
My mom always had a very specific way of doing things. Sure I'd get in trouble but I'd get sent to my room, I'd yell, she'd yell, I'd come into her room or the living room, cuddle up with her and though it didn't get me off the hook it always seemed forgiven. That's always been how my mom and I worked. We fight 110% but then when it's over it's over. My dad didn't fight fair. He'd send me to my room and expect me to stay there. When he told me I couldn't see friends he meant it and it didn't change. He stuck to his guns. I did NOT know how to handle that. So, I hated him, that was how I handled it. How else are you supposed to handle someone that is stepping into a role you didn't know existed.
I don't think it was until I was a teenager that I quit hating him and let him be my dad. I mean hell, he brought with him two new brothers (neither of which I was a fan of, then I would like one and hate the other, then switch.... I did a lot of disliking for a long time, that's what happens when you never had to share your mom then had to share her a lot). Then they had Javad. My superhero/sidekick duo of my mom and I was slowly turning into the Justice League and I was NOT down with it.
I fell in love with my family how you fall asleep, slowly at first and then all at once. I don't know when it happened but I went from resisting them to choosing them as my own. I went from hating my dad to in so many ways being a daddy's girl. I went from fighting with my brothers constantly to having little brother be one of my best friends and favorite people in the world. I chose my family. Sure it took a while. Sure only my mom, J and I share blood but they're mine, all of them.
It's hard sometimes. Missing them. Wishing it's like when we were in high school and we'd all curl up on mom and dad's bed and watch tv, or movies. Or when the boys and I would play Super Smash Bros until I threw a controller at Adds for being an asshole, or Simon got mad and stormed out (pretty sure it was always Adam's fault). Or when Si had to teach Adds and I how to cut a watermelon. Or or or.... I miss when we were all together. I miss my family.
Sometimes I get sad because I think about the people in my "family" that I don't know. The ones that haven't ever been a part of my life. The ones that jump in and out when it's good for them. The ones that sometimes send cards for birthdays or a christmas card. Sometimes I regret that they aren't a part of my life and it hurts. It hurts feeling like there is something I didn't do. Like somehow I have failed because my relationship with them isn't like it is with my family. It hurts and I've never known how to handle it.
I really love our little Justice League. I know that it will only expand as our family grows. I also know that there is enough love to go around. If there is one thing my dad taught me it's that there is always enough food, always enough places to sleep and always enough love to go around. And for that, I will always be grateful <3
Don't get my wrong, I have the most incredible mom ever. She's one of the strongest people I know, but even the strongest people have hard moments. When I was little were some of those hard moments. They're also probably the reason my mom and I are so close. We were all we had, or at least in my child-eyes that's how I saw it. I don't ever remember there being anyone else, outside the two of us, until my dad came along when I was like 8, and for a while he was just as my mom's friend (not the "we're dating but telling our kids we're friends" thing but like legitimately friends).
Granted my grandparents were always there swooping in. My Poppa taught me how men were supposed to act and acted as the male role in my childhood. (If you know my Poppa you know that these are big shoes to fill and that a) no one will ever measure up and b) he can be a bit intimidating). My momma taught me that I didn't ever need a man. We managed everything on our own, though it wasn't always the best way and there tended to be swearing and tears where there didn't need to be.
There's something about family where it's not given but chosen. There are whole sides of my genetics that I couldn't identify if you paid me. Sure they're "family" if you look on a family tree but I don't know them. They didn't contribute to who I am. They weren't the ones I fought with when I was using, or the ones that challenged me when they didn't see that I had long term goals. I may not always like the people in my family, but that's because they're family. That's kinda in the rules isn't it?
When my mom and dad got married I was nine years old and had an attitude the size of Russia (for size comparison I have shrunk it down a bit so it's only about the size of Canada now which is about 1/2 the size). I hated my dad. Sure I told my mom when he proposed that I was good with them getting married cause what else are you supposed to say when you're like 8 years old and your mom looks happy, and your being offered a consistency and balance to your otherwise chaotic (yet always an adventure) life. I wanted my mom to be happy and she was, and he bought me things and the food was good so all my needs were met in the mind of an 8 year old, but I hated him. I hated that he told me I couldn't do things. I hated that he made it so I couldn't sleep with my mom any night I wanted. I hated that he would punish me. I hated that he acted like a dad because I'd never had one before.
My mom always had a very specific way of doing things. Sure I'd get in trouble but I'd get sent to my room, I'd yell, she'd yell, I'd come into her room or the living room, cuddle up with her and though it didn't get me off the hook it always seemed forgiven. That's always been how my mom and I worked. We fight 110% but then when it's over it's over. My dad didn't fight fair. He'd send me to my room and expect me to stay there. When he told me I couldn't see friends he meant it and it didn't change. He stuck to his guns. I did NOT know how to handle that. So, I hated him, that was how I handled it. How else are you supposed to handle someone that is stepping into a role you didn't know existed.
I don't think it was until I was a teenager that I quit hating him and let him be my dad. I mean hell, he brought with him two new brothers (neither of which I was a fan of, then I would like one and hate the other, then switch.... I did a lot of disliking for a long time, that's what happens when you never had to share your mom then had to share her a lot). Then they had Javad. My superhero/sidekick duo of my mom and I was slowly turning into the Justice League and I was NOT down with it.
I fell in love with my family how you fall asleep, slowly at first and then all at once. I don't know when it happened but I went from resisting them to choosing them as my own. I went from hating my dad to in so many ways being a daddy's girl. I went from fighting with my brothers constantly to having little brother be one of my best friends and favorite people in the world. I chose my family. Sure it took a while. Sure only my mom, J and I share blood but they're mine, all of them.
It's hard sometimes. Missing them. Wishing it's like when we were in high school and we'd all curl up on mom and dad's bed and watch tv, or movies. Or when the boys and I would play Super Smash Bros until I threw a controller at Adds for being an asshole, or Simon got mad and stormed out (pretty sure it was always Adam's fault). Or when Si had to teach Adds and I how to cut a watermelon. Or or or.... I miss when we were all together. I miss my family.
Sometimes I get sad because I think about the people in my "family" that I don't know. The ones that haven't ever been a part of my life. The ones that jump in and out when it's good for them. The ones that sometimes send cards for birthdays or a christmas card. Sometimes I regret that they aren't a part of my life and it hurts. It hurts feeling like there is something I didn't do. Like somehow I have failed because my relationship with them isn't like it is with my family. It hurts and I've never known how to handle it.
I really love our little Justice League. I know that it will only expand as our family grows. I also know that there is enough love to go around. If there is one thing my dad taught me it's that there is always enough food, always enough places to sleep and always enough love to go around. And for that, I will always be grateful <3
6.03.2014
Facetious salads often require percolating
It's funny the moments that become highlights in my day. There was a period of time at the end of today that I was avoiding leaving work, not because I still wanted to be there, but because leaving meant tolerating the 90+ degree 70+ percent humidity that was outside. Inside was airconditioned and I could look out the windows and act like it was just beautiful out there. Outside meant acknowledging that it was NASTY hot.
So there I was, procrastinating leaving the rec and I was given the opportunity to giggle with one of our pro-staff over a homemade salad and redneck jokes about Illinois. Sometimes I feel like the stereotypes I moved to Illinois with are so a part of my reality that I forget they aren't all true. Sometimes I lean on those stereotypes because it makes this whirlwind of SoIll make more sense. Sometimes they just help to make light of everything that doesn't make sense but is SOOO real in so many ways. So there we are, eating a "salad" (it contained lettuce but there was so much bacon and cheese that it couldn't have been healthy by ANY means...delicious? Yes! Healthy? Not a chance!) giggling about the hipster nature of Portland versus the redneck nature of Southern Illinois when he mentions that part of the reason he moved there from South Carolina was because at least in SoIll he got to keep his teeth.
I almost died. I was laughing so hard I couldn't stop. It felt normal. I felt normal. For the first time in a week I didn't feel like I was suffocating.
It's weird to think of how much a tight hug and a good laugh can change everything for me. There is a healing nature to cuddle puddles, blanket forts, and inside jokes. I think that's what I live on. Maybe that's it. Some people live on unicorns, rainbows and rose colored glasses. Others find solace in structure, consistency, and predictability. While others, like me, could be perfectly happy going through every day with nothing but cuddle puddles, blanket forts, random adventures, and inside jokes. Yep that must be it. Maybe that's what it is about being with my friends.
I can't help but think about while I was home. Me and my girls (and the boy) went to Fire on the Mountain. It's always a mystical mess when the four of us girls are together. It's like throwing philosophical conversations, existential life crisises, 13 year old gossip sessions, beer and cuddling all into a blender and leaving the lid off. Whatever flies out is what happens. It's AMAZING! Potentially my favorite thing in the entire world it could be argued. It's always funny when we're together cause I never know what is going to happen. I've been asked before what we're going to do and I never know. It seems even if there is a plan somehow it always strays from what I expected and it's always exactly as it should be. I just remember leaving and the boy telling me that the four of us together was "a lot". Truly the best way to describe it. The experience of us I guess.... a lot.
My friendship with those girls is so much a part of who I am. That's part of what made leaving Portland so hard... I had to leave them behind not knowing when the four of us would be in one place again. These three people that have become my rocks when things are hard and my wings when I needed to get away. I couldn't imagine life without them. I don't ever want to have to imagine life without them because it pretty much just would be awful so that's never going to be a thing that happens.
When I found out about Laura's accident over spring break (talked about it a while back) I was driving away from my parents house on the way to the twins house. I called my mom while I was on the freeway, in shock, choking on my tears and my words, struggling to breathe and acknowledge the horror that was happening and how scared I was. It's a little crazy to think of cause I feel like any other situation my mom would have told me to come home because I would always want to be with my mom when something like that happened, but she didn't. She just told me to text her when I got there because she knew, maybe more than I did, that being with my girls, my best friends, was the only place that I was going to be able to handle everything that was happening. That night was hard, we drank (maybe too much, maybe just enough, who knows), we laughed, we fought, we cried and at the end of the night we all snuggled into beds and none of us spent the night alone. I feel like that one night was the perfect scene of our friendship. No one spends the night alone. None of us are ever alone. As long as I have those girls everything will be alright.
When I moved out here. When my world came shattering to pieces weeks after I got here and I was alone. When I was homesick and was struggling to get out of bed each morning. Sure I called my mom, we talk every day, everyone knows that, we always have and always will. But at 2am when I couldn't sleep and my brain was running, or I was on the way home from work and wanted to share something my girls were the ones I called. They were the ones that offered to fly out to po-dunk southern illinois if I needed them here. When things went to shit for my birthday and I had to send home the person nearest to my heart we planned a ridiculous snuggle puddle when I got home to make it better.
I can't imagine going back to Portland and not having the four of us all be together. Ever since the first time we were all together something just made sense. It's like all the friends that I made that led me to them made sense. Don't take this as not valuing the friends and people that got me to that point because those are some of my most valued relationships, but something clicked in me and caused me to just take a deep breathe that first time because it made sense. I love them to the moon and back again. As hard as it is knowing that I don't know when we'll be in Portland together again, I know that these are people that will be in my life forever. I want them there the day I get married (god help us if that happens), helping my kids get into trouble and telling "oh trust us your mom can't get mad cause when she was your age...." stories, and drinking margaritas on my patio while our kids get into shit and eat dirt (yes my kids will cause hell, I already know). They are my girls. That's all there is to it.
So there I was, procrastinating leaving the rec and I was given the opportunity to giggle with one of our pro-staff over a homemade salad and redneck jokes about Illinois. Sometimes I feel like the stereotypes I moved to Illinois with are so a part of my reality that I forget they aren't all true. Sometimes I lean on those stereotypes because it makes this whirlwind of SoIll make more sense. Sometimes they just help to make light of everything that doesn't make sense but is SOOO real in so many ways. So there we are, eating a "salad" (it contained lettuce but there was so much bacon and cheese that it couldn't have been healthy by ANY means...delicious? Yes! Healthy? Not a chance!) giggling about the hipster nature of Portland versus the redneck nature of Southern Illinois when he mentions that part of the reason he moved there from South Carolina was because at least in SoIll he got to keep his teeth.
I almost died. I was laughing so hard I couldn't stop. It felt normal. I felt normal. For the first time in a week I didn't feel like I was suffocating.
It's weird to think of how much a tight hug and a good laugh can change everything for me. There is a healing nature to cuddle puddles, blanket forts, and inside jokes. I think that's what I live on. Maybe that's it. Some people live on unicorns, rainbows and rose colored glasses. Others find solace in structure, consistency, and predictability. While others, like me, could be perfectly happy going through every day with nothing but cuddle puddles, blanket forts, random adventures, and inside jokes. Yep that must be it. Maybe that's what it is about being with my friends.
I can't help but think about while I was home. Me and my girls (and the boy) went to Fire on the Mountain. It's always a mystical mess when the four of us girls are together. It's like throwing philosophical conversations, existential life crisises, 13 year old gossip sessions, beer and cuddling all into a blender and leaving the lid off. Whatever flies out is what happens. It's AMAZING! Potentially my favorite thing in the entire world it could be argued. It's always funny when we're together cause I never know what is going to happen. I've been asked before what we're going to do and I never know. It seems even if there is a plan somehow it always strays from what I expected and it's always exactly as it should be. I just remember leaving and the boy telling me that the four of us together was "a lot". Truly the best way to describe it. The experience of us I guess.... a lot.
My friendship with those girls is so much a part of who I am. That's part of what made leaving Portland so hard... I had to leave them behind not knowing when the four of us would be in one place again. These three people that have become my rocks when things are hard and my wings when I needed to get away. I couldn't imagine life without them. I don't ever want to have to imagine life without them because it pretty much just would be awful so that's never going to be a thing that happens.
When I found out about Laura's accident over spring break (talked about it a while back) I was driving away from my parents house on the way to the twins house. I called my mom while I was on the freeway, in shock, choking on my tears and my words, struggling to breathe and acknowledge the horror that was happening and how scared I was. It's a little crazy to think of cause I feel like any other situation my mom would have told me to come home because I would always want to be with my mom when something like that happened, but she didn't. She just told me to text her when I got there because she knew, maybe more than I did, that being with my girls, my best friends, was the only place that I was going to be able to handle everything that was happening. That night was hard, we drank (maybe too much, maybe just enough, who knows), we laughed, we fought, we cried and at the end of the night we all snuggled into beds and none of us spent the night alone. I feel like that one night was the perfect scene of our friendship. No one spends the night alone. None of us are ever alone. As long as I have those girls everything will be alright.
When I moved out here. When my world came shattering to pieces weeks after I got here and I was alone. When I was homesick and was struggling to get out of bed each morning. Sure I called my mom, we talk every day, everyone knows that, we always have and always will. But at 2am when I couldn't sleep and my brain was running, or I was on the way home from work and wanted to share something my girls were the ones I called. They were the ones that offered to fly out to po-dunk southern illinois if I needed them here. When things went to shit for my birthday and I had to send home the person nearest to my heart we planned a ridiculous snuggle puddle when I got home to make it better.
I can't imagine going back to Portland and not having the four of us all be together. Ever since the first time we were all together something just made sense. It's like all the friends that I made that led me to them made sense. Don't take this as not valuing the friends and people that got me to that point because those are some of my most valued relationships, but something clicked in me and caused me to just take a deep breathe that first time because it made sense. I love them to the moon and back again. As hard as it is knowing that I don't know when we'll be in Portland together again, I know that these are people that will be in my life forever. I want them there the day I get married (god help us if that happens), helping my kids get into trouble and telling "oh trust us your mom can't get mad cause when she was your age...." stories, and drinking margaritas on my patio while our kids get into shit and eat dirt (yes my kids will cause hell, I already know). They are my girls. That's all there is to it.
Also, it just kinda makes sense that these are the only pictures I have of me and my girls from my last trip home and that we look like SPAZZES in all of them. Fuck I love these ladies and may we never be normal and may we always just be "a lot"!
6.02.2014
Fire and Ice
Hey guess what! I learned something I think I've always known!
I burn hot. Not just a simmer but hot, Hot, HOT. I feel and live everything at 110%.
It's weird, like I've always known that I was a little hot headed and that I was more than a little overprotective of the people I cared about but I never really thought of myself as burning hot. I feel like there are people that are reading this that either a) don't know what I mean by saying that I burn hot and b) are just nodding their heads like "Stesha, we are so glad you are finally acknowledging this... your life will be easier because you acknowledged this." Ugh. Yes, yes I know this is a long time coming to truly get this and what I mean is that everything is 110%.
I love whole-heartedly. I am fiercely overprotective. I loathe like it's my JOB! When I am frustrated it absorbs me and can be SUPER overwhelming. I hate acknowledging this because it just makes me feel ridiculous but when i'm mad I am seething mad, I see red and am out for the kill. If you have a button to push or a weakness to go after I will.... this is NOT an awesome trait >.< This however can be good in moments where something is happening that shouldn't be, or I need to be advocating... this is not so awesome when my frustration is misplaced. Whoops! That happens sometimes. fml....
I think I figured out what it is about Portland that just calms me though. It's the water. This may sound crazy but there is a part of me that believes there is a part of each of us that is fueled by the elements. I'll acknowledge that I am fire through and through but it makes sense why the ocean, the rain, a hot shower, a float down the river, the calm of sitting by the creeks down from my house have brought me back to center for as long as I can remember.
I remember when I was a little kid and I was fishing off the little bridge that went over the creek behind my grandparents beach house and I got in a fight with my aunt (she's like 7 years older than me) and I was so angry. Not even because we'd gotten in a fight but because I had been at such peace. I remember grabbing my fishing rod and running back to the house only to retreat to the beach, bury my feet and hands in the warm sand and just breathe.
In college when things would just seem too much my friends I would grab a pack of beer (sorry mom), all of our cardboard and paper recycling and load into a car toward the beach. We'd then sit back, make a bonfire, listen to the waves crash against the rocks and wash onto the sand and all the stress of college, midterms, relationships, work, drama, all of it didn't seem to matter any more. When everyone was busy and I couldn't leave I'd walk down to the waterfront and sit in the middle of a bridge with my feet hanging off wondering what it would feel like to go splashing into the water....not in a depressing like I wanna jump off a bridge way, but in a diving into the water kinda way. I know it's dangerous hence why I never did it. Don't get all dangerzone lecturey on me.
It's weird being landlocked. It's almost suffocating. Like in those moments that I wanna get away I end up just driving like I'm looking for a destination but there is no where. No where that is going to feel the same.
Let me say right now that if someone tells me that I am right next to the Mississippi River and that should count I might swat at you through the computer. Then I will roll my eyes in the way that only a 14-year-old angsty teen girl can and ignore that you said it all together. Because that may be a river but that is NOT peaceful. It's grosser than the Willamette and that is SAYING something cause the Willamette is TWELVE-shades of nasty. I need REAL water, like cold, refreshing, take your breathe away with the breeze it causes water.
Like, SUUUURRRREEEEEEE we have rain here in SoIll (Southern Illinois for those NOT from this general region or able to pick up on context clues) but it's warm. WHAT IS THE POINT OF WARM RAIN?!!?!?! I don't understand. Growing up somewhere where it rains ALL. THE. TIME. but it's cold and refreshing and leaves everything feeling clean and smelling amazing to being somewhere that is so humid and the rain is warm and leaves you feeling sticky and gross and makes everything smell kinda moldy but weird and it comes with theatrics so you can't just enjoy the rain cause it's overshadowed with thunder and lightening and fearing for your life (if you're me and you DON'T LIKE THEATRICS!!!!).... oi vey! Like the rain starts here and I get grumpy. WTF! Rain has never made me grumpy.... it's usually soothing and puts me to sleep (even at noon when I should be awake).
All I want is a beach... or REAL rain (cause I have decided that the rain here is really just devil spawned rain that isn't real and is infused with evil and self-loathing [no clue where that came from]). Fuck I was home and did it rain?! NOPE! Once... MAYBE! Ugh, thanks Portland for being beautiful but I was REALLY looking forward to some overcast and rain so I could lay in the plaza on the bricks and just soak up the glory of it. Similarly, I intended on driving to the beach but apparently 10pm on Memorial day is a bad time to drive to the beach cause drunks on the road are out to get you so that threw a kink in that plan.... ugh!
So I guess there it is. I am sure there is so much more to say cause if you couldn't tell I'm feeling a little sassy today. Weird I know cause I am NEVER sassy... but hell I guess that's just what happens when you're feisty and hot headed and have no access to any sort of calming source. Stupid SoIll and it's inability to have a direct line to a coast... I guess a 10 hour jaunt south is going to be in the works sometime soon cause damned if not there is going to be SOOOOO much pent up attitude it's gonna get a little interesting.
I burn hot. Not just a simmer but hot, Hot, HOT. I feel and live everything at 110%.
It's weird, like I've always known that I was a little hot headed and that I was more than a little overprotective of the people I cared about but I never really thought of myself as burning hot. I feel like there are people that are reading this that either a) don't know what I mean by saying that I burn hot and b) are just nodding their heads like "Stesha, we are so glad you are finally acknowledging this... your life will be easier because you acknowledged this." Ugh. Yes, yes I know this is a long time coming to truly get this and what I mean is that everything is 110%.
I love whole-heartedly. I am fiercely overprotective. I loathe like it's my JOB! When I am frustrated it absorbs me and can be SUPER overwhelming. I hate acknowledging this because it just makes me feel ridiculous but when i'm mad I am seething mad, I see red and am out for the kill. If you have a button to push or a weakness to go after I will.... this is NOT an awesome trait >.< This however can be good in moments where something is happening that shouldn't be, or I need to be advocating... this is not so awesome when my frustration is misplaced. Whoops! That happens sometimes. fml....
I think I figured out what it is about Portland that just calms me though. It's the water. This may sound crazy but there is a part of me that believes there is a part of each of us that is fueled by the elements. I'll acknowledge that I am fire through and through but it makes sense why the ocean, the rain, a hot shower, a float down the river, the calm of sitting by the creeks down from my house have brought me back to center for as long as I can remember.
I remember when I was a little kid and I was fishing off the little bridge that went over the creek behind my grandparents beach house and I got in a fight with my aunt (she's like 7 years older than me) and I was so angry. Not even because we'd gotten in a fight but because I had been at such peace. I remember grabbing my fishing rod and running back to the house only to retreat to the beach, bury my feet and hands in the warm sand and just breathe.
In college when things would just seem too much my friends I would grab a pack of beer (sorry mom), all of our cardboard and paper recycling and load into a car toward the beach. We'd then sit back, make a bonfire, listen to the waves crash against the rocks and wash onto the sand and all the stress of college, midterms, relationships, work, drama, all of it didn't seem to matter any more. When everyone was busy and I couldn't leave I'd walk down to the waterfront and sit in the middle of a bridge with my feet hanging off wondering what it would feel like to go splashing into the water....not in a depressing like I wanna jump off a bridge way, but in a diving into the water kinda way. I know it's dangerous hence why I never did it. Don't get all dangerzone lecturey on me.
It's weird being landlocked. It's almost suffocating. Like in those moments that I wanna get away I end up just driving like I'm looking for a destination but there is no where. No where that is going to feel the same.
Let me say right now that if someone tells me that I am right next to the Mississippi River and that should count I might swat at you through the computer. Then I will roll my eyes in the way that only a 14-year-old angsty teen girl can and ignore that you said it all together. Because that may be a river but that is NOT peaceful. It's grosser than the Willamette and that is SAYING something cause the Willamette is TWELVE-shades of nasty. I need REAL water, like cold, refreshing, take your breathe away with the breeze it causes water.
Like, SUUUURRRREEEEEEE we have rain here in SoIll (Southern Illinois for those NOT from this general region or able to pick up on context clues) but it's warm. WHAT IS THE POINT OF WARM RAIN?!!?!?! I don't understand. Growing up somewhere where it rains ALL. THE. TIME. but it's cold and refreshing and leaves everything feeling clean and smelling amazing to being somewhere that is so humid and the rain is warm and leaves you feeling sticky and gross and makes everything smell kinda moldy but weird and it comes with theatrics so you can't just enjoy the rain cause it's overshadowed with thunder and lightening and fearing for your life (if you're me and you DON'T LIKE THEATRICS!!!!).... oi vey! Like the rain starts here and I get grumpy. WTF! Rain has never made me grumpy.... it's usually soothing and puts me to sleep (even at noon when I should be awake).
All I want is a beach... or REAL rain (cause I have decided that the rain here is really just devil spawned rain that isn't real and is infused with evil and self-loathing [no clue where that came from]). Fuck I was home and did it rain?! NOPE! Once... MAYBE! Ugh, thanks Portland for being beautiful but I was REALLY looking forward to some overcast and rain so I could lay in the plaza on the bricks and just soak up the glory of it. Similarly, I intended on driving to the beach but apparently 10pm on Memorial day is a bad time to drive to the beach cause drunks on the road are out to get you so that threw a kink in that plan.... ugh!
So I guess there it is. I am sure there is so much more to say cause if you couldn't tell I'm feeling a little sassy today. Weird I know cause I am NEVER sassy... but hell I guess that's just what happens when you're feisty and hot headed and have no access to any sort of calming source. Stupid SoIll and it's inability to have a direct line to a coast... I guess a 10 hour jaunt south is going to be in the works sometime soon cause damned if not there is going to be SOOOOO much pent up attitude it's gonna get a little interesting.
6.01.2014
There's Something Missing...
As I sit here on my couch watching my dogs wrestle for the first time in two days I am struck with that momentary reminder of how much their moods and attitudes reflect mine. Since getting back to Illinois on Thursday (well late Wednesday night) I have avoided leaving the house. Granted Friday and Saturday night I have put on a happy face and ventured outside to see friends but then have retreated back to my bed and my couch hiding from everything around me.
Leaving Portland was hard for me but not for the reasons that you'd think. Portland is home....sure... but it's more than that. Portland is the one physical location that has filled me up when I have felt empty. I came to realize lately that it wasn't Portland itself. I mean sure the culture there is where I fit but there's more to a place being home than that. I said it in an earlier post that it was my friends that really made Portland home. It wasn't the culture or the food or the beer (though that helps) or anything else but the people. My family will always be there and that will always be somewhere I land but where my friends are, the people that have put up with my bullshit, kept me safe, challenged me, and loved me at the end of the day. They are what has made it for me.
Coming back to Illinois was one of the hardest things I have done. Being back in Portland I was reminded what it felt like to be supported and surrounded with love at all times. Even when I was being a total bitch and when everything had to be about me and I couldn't take a second to pay attention to what others were dealing with my friends still sat there and listened to my shit and hugged me, then told me to move on. I was so encouraged and reminded that the work that I have been doing was good. I felt filled up.
The second I landed in Illinois a part of me felt empty. I think everytime I leave Portland another small part of me stays making the strings on my heart feel more strained because everytime I leave it's harder to come back to Illinois. I can't identify what it is but I just know that it sucks in every single way. My plane landed in Illinois and almost as soon as I stepped off the plane I started crying. Not the like silent tears that no one knows are there but heart wrenching ugly tears that made me have to stop in the terminal to compose myself. Stepping off that plane meant I was actually back.
Illinois hasn't been bad. I'm coming up on a year of being here and it hasn't been bad. I have amazing friends, my classes are pretty rad, I'm getting awesome opportunities within region 3, but something has always been missing. I don't know if it is the sarcastic push that I was always getting at work, or the constant conversation around social sustainability and social justice, or if it was just the physicality of the people in Portland where a hug is always 1/2 second away and often not invited but given freely. I don't know what it is but I feel myself yearning and having a deep hunger for whatever it is every time I am back on the west coast, and I always get it whatever it is.
As I watch my dogs tonight I notice that as the energy has been sucked out of me the last few days, while I struggle to keep my anxiety in check and stop myself from going down the oh-so-familiar blackhole, the energy has also been sucked out of them. It's as if they know that I can't handle crazy antics or high energy, or that the slightest bit of aggression from them might make me break down. I don't know but I can see it.
I've never been someone to fall to pieces. I have been one to pent things up and just pray that it doesn't explode when I least expect it. Something about the last month has been different though. I'm not afraid of falling to pieces because there is a part of me that has been falling apart for months and I just haven't been able to see it happening. I think there is a part of me that has been broken for a long time and I have just been hiding it from myself for fear that I would have to address it if I acknowledged that it was there. I don't think I'm ready to address it yet. Maybe some day. Just not today.
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