Alive in our Souls

I definitely slept for like 10 hours last night. Maybe more. And then at 2:00 I fell asleep for an hour. I used to be so good at not sleeping. Although I'm not sure that's something to be proud of. While it was necessary in order to do track, take care of myself, and finish all my IB work, I'm sure it wasn't doing good things for my body. And of COURSE now they're doing the Pottermore clues during the day my time, so I didn't even have to stay up late on Monday night if I didn't want to. *sigh*

After two days of writing these blogs, I have concluded that no one seems to be reading what I'm writing. Which is, you know, lovely. I mean, I don't really care if anyone reads them or not, because I do it solely for my enjoyment and to look back on in the future. But...but...oh, screw it, I wish someone was reading my blog. Perhaps I will advertise it to my best friends, at least.

ANYWAY. Today, August 3rd, is Esther day. I must admit that I didn't really know Esther personally. We talked I think maybe twice on a big Skype chat because some of my friends were really close with her. She was (is) my friend on Facebook, and we commented on each other's stuff sometimes. But, mostly, I knew her because of her loveliness. I admired her strength and heart, the way she could be funny and loving when her body was fighting against her, how she wanted to help others even in her final days. But I never met her. I regret not talking to her more, because I think our souls and minds really would have connected.

On Esther Day, we all promise to tell those we love that we love them. I htink it's a beautiful idea. I don't do it as often as I should, and I'm in constant fear of losing another special person like Esther and Nick.

Esther's death hit me hard last year, as you may be able to tell from my extremely short blog post on that day. I was in a really rough place, desperately trying to escape my grief over Nick's death, and her death reminded me so much of my sadness. It thrust it in my face, when I had been trying for so long to keep it in a safe little box and just move on.

I regret still that I didn't tell Nick more often how much I loved him and how much he helped me. He always tried to smile at everyone, talk to everyone, cheer up people he could tell were sad. He had such a beautiful spirit. And I regret as well that I stuffed my grief for so long and tried to ignore that loss. I am comforted by the words of a dear wise friend who told me that you can only grieve when you are ready to, and maybe I just hadn't been for so long. I finally grieved, truly grieved, on his 18th birthday on December 1st. And since then I've come to realize that he isn't truly gone. His spirit it still alive and strong and beautiful.

He's alive in my heart. Because I still honor him and love him every single day. I try to live a beautiful life, because he didn't get the chance to finish his. I truly believe we all have souls, and they don't just disappear after we're gone. Maybe there's no heaven or true afterlife, but our souls live on. We live on after we die inside of those people we influenced, the people who love us, the people who miss us. I can't help but believe, too, that Nick's spirit lives on, and that wherever he is, he can hear me everytime I tell him I love him.

And I believe the same for Esther. I believe her spirit is living on somewhere, and that she is glowing with pride and happiness at all the love being expressed today.

The dead are not lost to us. They live on. In all of us.

....................................................................................

Okay, moving away from the "downer" part of the blog. Sorry about that. It was just something I really needed to express today.

I am currently watching sharks* and listening to our torrential downpour outside. I love rain so much. And I am enjoying the shark week shows tonight so much more, because they're scientific shows about how sharks hunt. Not the stupid shark attack shows. So I'm sitting here, writing this, as my stuffed shark watches the TV happily beside me.**

Other than sleeping so much today, I read more of Goblet of Fire, messed around on Tumblr, and went for a beautiful and lovely run just before it started raining. I would have loved if I had been running when the rain first started, but since we've been having torrential downpours and thunderstorms and there's a flash flood warning, I didn't want to risk being struck my lighting or swept away in a flash flood. That wouldn't be good.

Also, I promised you excitement today. So here's some balloons:

(yes that is a shark)

Fireworks:

And cupcakes:

I think I should just say right now that a lot of my blogs will turn into these long reflective wriitngs, because that's just the kind of person I am.

But hopefully there'll be some funny too.

Oh, another random thing. My cat enjoys almost suffocating me. I don't think she does it on purpose, it's more just that she wants to be close to us. But she sits on my neck and covers my face with her fur, and I feel like I'm being suffocated. But she's cute. Although I suppose if she really did kill me and I came back as a ghost, I wouldn't think she was so cute anymore...

Well. I'm going to keep watching sharks. You should too. :)

Cheers!

Daily Shark Fact: Sharks’ wounds heal quickly and they rarely get tumors. (magic healing sharks. I vote we study them to try to cure human diseases. I'm such a marine biologist...)

Daily Shark Photo:

OH MY GOODNESS, IT'S A BABY SHARK! IT'S SO CUTE!!!!

Inspirational quote/photo of the day: We’re all human, aren’t we? Every human life is worth the same and worth saving. -Jo Rowling

Days until I leave for college: 23

*I am always watching sharks apparently when writing these blogs. It's shark week. And sharks are awesome. There should always be shows about sharks on.

**Yes, I realize it's a stuffed shark and can't really see the TV or think or anything. I'm not crazy. I just think he's adorable and I like making him watch the sharks and pretending he enjoys watching his friends.

Exhaustion

Day 2 of BEDAugust. I am exhausted.

I got into Pottermore last night, after waking up at 1:45. Then I fell back asleep at 5:15 or so. And woke up again at 7:00 because I had too many things to do at hospitals today. So, no, really, I am exhausted. So this also will not be a long post.

I feel kind of pathetic right now, but seriously. I don't think I've gotten a good, solid night of sleep since last week. And today, I didn't really procrastinate until late, but I was busy all day and then stuck in the Colorado State Capitol Building with no computer. I should have brought it, but I knew I was going to be walking around, probably in the rain, and I am currently super protective of my new shiny Toshiba laptop. So sorry. *sigh* I promise tomorrow will be EXCITING. With balloons and fireworks and cupcakes.

I was very happy to get into Pottermore, although my sister and her loudness at 4 am when I was very sleepy did not help. I took a while for the ad to load on my stupid slow internet, and then took a while to figure out how to get the quill to levitate. But I got there. FeatherNettle111. Got my confirmation e-mail quickly and validated. Now it's just a matter of waiting for my welcome e-mail.

I really am excited for Pottermore, despite my annoyance of yesterday. I love Jo, and I know that this is going to be an amazing experience, getting TRULY sorted and finding out information about all of the characters. I really want to learn stuff about Flitwick, because I feel like he is awesome. And we don't know much about him. But, really, I'm excited for new canon written words from the beautiful mind of Jo.

As I wrote in my long blog post on July 21st, the magic isn't over. I haven't let go of these characters. I haven't left Hogwarts. They're still deep in my heart and soul. The magic lives on. In all of us.

Anyway. Currently watching Shark Week, and I am NOT enjoying this show. They're shooting sharks and blowing them up. I love sharks. They're not man-eaters; very few humans die each year from shark attacks. We don't need to kill them. So I am currently clutching my stuffed shark* and cursing the TV show for condoning the killing of sharks. *sigh* Too bad I missed the scientific shows during the day today.

Strangely, I think all my late nights studying and completing IB work this past year have allowed me to get through today with no naps and only 4 hours of sleep. There was a point when I was waiting to get my TB test for college that I honestly thought I was going to fall asleep in the chair in the waiting room. And I randomly got tired during lunch. And I think I may have fallen asleep for a short period of time while waiting for my dad in the cafeteria of the state capitol building. I was trying to read Goblet of Fire, but was desperately sleepy, and kind of laid my head down. And closed my eyes. But I don't think I actually fell asleep, because I was very aware of the people walking around me. Important Congressmen and women and government/political people who probably thought I was very weird for "sleeping" on a stuffed shark** in the middle of a cafeteria in such an important building. But now? I really am tired again. I will sleep early tonight.

And probably sleep in ridiculously late tomorrow, even though I hate doing that because I feel like I've lost half of the day.

Bleurgh. I'm tired. Maureen certainly is amusing, though. I am reading all of her tweets from today (my phone died at some point in the afternoon). I love her.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

jfdkfjphy1phfgrifgjhdfdfdkghr89-y19-8hgdgh918uyt48hghgdifjuqpiptuer834yt84hgudghdafjdkghpq

Oh. Did I just fall asleep on my keyboard? How embarrassing.

Bed time now. Hopefully Shark Week is better tomorrow. I love my Sharky.

Daily Shark Fact: The Dermal denticles that covers Shark skin is so tough and hard that before the invention of sandpaper, shark skin was used to polish wood.

Daily Shark Photo:

Blacktip reef shark! So pretty!

Inspirational quote/photo of the day: “I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.” -Laura Ingalls Wilder

Days until I leave for college: 24

*Yes I do have a stuffed animal shark. He is adorable. His name is Sharky, and I love him.

**Also, Sharky is a good pillow. But I think that people probably just thought I was crazy.

You're a GREAT white

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee. It's August again. Which means the return of BEDAugust. :D Hopefully I'll finish this year. I had a lot of things going on last year, and I remember that I kind of fell apart from anxiety and grief and otehr such things on the 31st last year. *sigh* BUT NOT THIS YEAR. I WILL TRIUMPH!!!

I don't even know if BEDA is a "thing" anymore, since Maureen doesn't do it, promote it, or even check her ning here. But I don't care. I enjoy it, even if I only do it for myself.

However, it's been so long since I've written a real, everyday blog post that I don't even know what to write about anymore. Funny, since I used to be so good at it. I have procrastinated writing this until 20:50, and I'm going to go to bed in like...an hour so I can wake up for Pottermore tonight. So this first blog post? Definitely going to be short.


........................................................


So I just wrote a very long rant about Pottermore, but when I reread it I realized most of it sounded really mean and kind of petty. Not at all like me, and not really the way I feel about Pottermore. I think I'm just annoyed because I haven't been able to stay up late for the clue because of work and sickness and I'm sick of people acting like they're more special because they stayed up the FIRST night to get it. But, whatever. We'll all get in, we'll all get the experience, we'll all get some MORE POTTER from Jo. And I'm staying up tonight.

I have spent most of the day watching Shark Week reruns. I love Shark Week. It's the best week of the year. I'm not a big fan of the crazy shark attack shows--I'm more interested in the science, which is what they play during the day. I'm such a marine biology nerd...
Also went to Borders, since they are closing. I don't really care, since I've never liked Borders, but I felt bad for the teenager we bought stuff from. He said his job at Borders was his plan to get through college. =( Poor kid.

Okay, but seriously, I don't even know what to write anymore. So, instead, here's some Shark Facts and a Shark Comic. I will write more tomorrow...I hope.

Cheers!

Inspirational quote/photo of the day: “…human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but…life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.”
— Gabriel García Márquez
Days until I leave for college: 25

Daily Shark Fact: Most sharks as we know them today developed about 64 million years ago during the age of the dinosaurs.

Daily Shark Picture:

We Create the Magic

It’s a story that is, by now, well known. The young woman, travelling through England on a train, when a story pops into her head. A boy, a magic castle. With no pen, she lets those beginning ideas roll through her head, the start of the story of Harry Potter. She never could have imagined, then, how that journey and that boy would change her life. How far she’s come. With her words, this young woman, Jo, brought magic into the world and into the hearts of so many young people, who desperately needed a Hogwarts to which they could escape.

My dad was the first to bring me that magic. It was the summer of 2000, the middle of July, and we had just moved from Texas to Colorado. After living in hotels and travelling a bunch, we finally got a house on base, and I think part of the reason my dad got us the books was to keep my sister and I occupied while he worked on moving everything and painting and other such stuff. I was a desperately shy child. While my sister was the one going outside and introducing herself to the kids in our cul-de-sac, I stayed holed up in our half-furnished bedroom, reading whatever books we had (I mean, she read the books that summer, too, but I definitely…stayed holed up with them).

It took me a little while to get excited about the book (the first chapter is not the most exciting opening chapter of a book), but soon I was drawn into the world of Hogwarts and its magic. I read each word, clutching the book, drawn to a friend because he loved the books too. In those early years, as a 7 year old, I desperately wanted Hogwarts to be real. I “played Harry Potter” on the playground with friends, imagined people were Death Eaters, and waited anxiously for a letter to Hogwarts.

Sure, even at that young age I knew magic couldn’t exist, that there weren’t really witches and wizards and Voldemort, but I so desperately wanted that world because I found friends there. In the magic world of Harry and Ron and Hermione, I found refuge. I travelled along with them without ever leaving my home, learning valuable lessons of courage and love and loss. I wrote to Jo Rowling as a young girl, desperately wanting to talk to this author who had begun to define my childhood. I was ridiculously happy to get that generic response and picture back from her, even if I knew she hadn’t actually read my letter. To see her signature and feel that thick parchment was like a small wave from a different world. It was Jo telling me that I could create Hogwarts for myself. She was letting me know that the magic was in me, and I didn’t need a wand to bring it out.

It would take another 4 years for me to truly realize that and carry out those words of wisdom, but I knew it deep down.

For years, I was a private, though enthusiastic, Harry Potter fan. Still desperately shy in my preteen and early teen years, I didn’t know how to show my passion. Sure, as a kid I’d made friends because of Harry, but it was no longer “cool” to admit that you liked Harry Potter. I desperately needed a Hogwarts to escape to, but my eleventh birthday came and went and my wishes went unanswered. Of course Hogwarts didn’t really exist in Scotland, but I couldn’t stop hoping…

And then…Hogwarts became a real place. In 2007, I discovered the fandom. I discovered PotterCast and Wrock and The Leaky Cauldron. I posted incessantly on the LeakyLounge, joining in and sometimes writing their chapter discussions, becoming “Resident Luna Biographer.” I was making friends again. Through the combined magic of the internet and Harry Potter, I wasn’t so alone anymore.

2008, I went to Terminus. And there, I feel I truly did discover Hogwarts. For Hogwarts isn’t a place, but a feeling and a state of mind. It’s a place where anyone can be accepted, regardless of any superficial traits society usually judges people on. It’s a place where you find people so like you, who want to be your friend, discuss topics, and work together to make the world a better place. I finally had my Hogwarts. I finally had my classmates. Wrockstock, LeakyCon, Wrockstock again, going to concerts…I had discovered a type of magic in my life.

We cried together, laughed together, danced together, worked together to change the world through the Harry Potter Alliance. We got in trouble, had adventures, and travelled places we might not have otherwise. We discovered parts of ourselves that had been pushed away to fit in with the Muggle world. At Hogwarts, we became ourselves.

Hogwarts is real, for us.

So, no. I never got an acceptance letter to Hogwarts, brought to me by an owl. I never walked down Diagon Alley, strolled the corridors of the castle, sat down to tea with Hagrid. But that didn’t matter much anymore.

Because I got an acceptance letter of a different kind. I got a letter of acceptance from the fandom, from my fellow fans telling me they loved me and wanted me around them. I had a place to escape, people to talk to, and a whole life of love ahead of me. That’s what the magic was. I didn’t have a physical Hogwarts, but I had everything about Hogwarts I loved. As Jo had told me with her words so many years before, I could, and did, carry the magic inside myself.

It’s no secret that Harry has helped me “through all the hard times,” as RiddleTM so wisely sings. With Harry, I learned over and over again how to grieve. Dumbledore’s wisdom showed me that life went on, that the dead never truly leave our world. We keep them alive. We have the magic to do that. And whenever I lost hope, Harry helped me realize there was still something, someone, worth fighting for. Hogwarts would always be there, waiting for me, no matter how hard the times. Dark days, truly, but always I could find a safe haven in that magical world.

There is magic in our world. The magic of words that say so much more than the letters give away. The magic of a hug, a smile, a dance. The magic of rain falling. The magic of music and how it can change our world. The magic of a spirit living on long after it’s dead, living on in me, simply because I will not forget.

The books are over. The movies are over. We have Pottermore to look forward to, but many people are treating this past week as if Harry’s magic is ending. But I don’t believe it is.

As Harry and Dumbledore taught me, nothing is ever lost. As long as I remember Harry and his friends, as long as I carry their story with me, the story will never be over. Not for me. I can let the story continue as long as I choose.

That’s the magic in our world.

Because of Harry, I’ve made friends. I’ve learned how to fly after I’ve fallen. I’ve had so many experiences and adventures. I’ve cried and I’ve laughed. I’ve recovered from the darkest days of my life. Harry brought me so much. For 11 years. 11 years. After all that time, I haven’t forgotten his magic. So, no, I don’t think I ever will.

We’re the Hogwarts Class of 2011, yes. It’s been 4 years since the last book came out, and we cried over Fred and Lupin and Harry’s courage. The movies are over, bringing yet more tears. But, the magic of Hogwarts lives within us. We will never leave those hallways, not really. It’s our home, the one place most of us ever found refuge. We saw ourselves in Neville, Luna, Hermione, Tonks, Dawlish…

We learned how to fly.

“It’s the end of an era, and I’m seeing clearer that nothing will ever be the same.” ~Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls

Certainly, nothing ever will be the same, but that doesn’t mean it’s the end of the magic. The magic lives on.

There is magic in our world. Jo, you taught me how to look for it and bring it out. You taught me how to let it live in my heart and soul. I can’t thank you enough for that, Jo.

But these stories and these characters have not left our world. The words continue to spin magic, bring about change, be a comforting wave and hug. We are the Harry Potter generation, and as long as we do not let this magic end, it never will.

“The stories we love best live in us forever. So whether you come back by page or by the big screen, Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.” — Jo Rowling

Hogwarts is our home. The magic is in our hearts. It’s real for us, no matter what the Muggles think. Carry that magic with you for the rest of your life, and you’ll never truly be alone.

We Create the Magic

It’s a story that is, by now, well known. The young woman, travelling through England on a train, when a story pops into her head. A boy, a magic castle. With no pen, she lets those beginning ideas roll through her head, the start of the story of Harry Potter. She never could have imagined, then, how that journey and that boy would change her life. How far she’s come. With her words, this young woman, Jo, brought magic into the world and into the hearts of so many young people, who desperately needed a Hogwarts to which they could escape.

My dad was the first to bring me that magic. It was the summer of 2000, the middle of July, and we had just moved from Texas to Colorado. After living in hotels and travelling a bunch, we finally got a house on base, and I think part of the reason my dad got us the books was to keep my sister and I occupied while he worked on moving everything and painting and other such stuff. I was a desperately shy child. While my sister was the one going outside and introducing herself to the kids in our cul-de-sac, I stayed holed up in our half-furnished bedroom, reading whatever books we had (I mean, she read the books that summer, too, but I definitely…stayed holed up with them).

It took me a little while to get excited about the book (the first chapter is not the most exciting opening chapter of a book), but soon I was drawn into the world of Hogwarts and its magic. I read each word, clutching the book, drawn to a friend because he loved the books too. In those early years, as a 7 year old, I desperately wanted Hogwarts to be real. I “played Harry Potter” on the playground with friends, imagined people were Death Eaters, and waited anxiously for a letter to Hogwarts.

Sure, even at that young age I knew magic couldn’t exist, that there weren’t really witches and wizards and Voldemort, but I so desperately wanted that world because I found friends there. In the magic world of Harry and Ron and Hermione, I found refuge. I travelled along with them without ever leaving my home, learning valuable lessons of courage and love and loss. I wrote to Jo Rowling as a young girl, desperately wanting to talk to this author who had begun to define my childhood. I was ridiculously happy to get that generic response and picture back from her, even if I knew she hadn’t actually read my letter. To see her signature and feel that thick parchment was like a small wave from a different world. It was Jo telling me that I could create Hogwarts for myself. She was letting me know that the magic was in me, and I didn’t need a wand to bring it out.

It would take another 4 years for me to truly realize that and carry out those words of wisdom, but I knew it deep down.

For years, I was a private, though enthusiastic, Harry Potter fan. Still desperately shy in my preteen and early teen years, I didn’t know how to show my passion. Sure, as a kid I’d made friends because of Harry, but it was no longer “cool” to admit that you liked Harry Potter. I desperately needed a Hogwarts to escape to, but my eleventh birthday came and went and my wishes went unanswered. Of course Hogwarts didn’t really exist in Scotland, but I couldn’t stop hoping…

And then…Hogwarts became a real place. In 2007, I discovered the fandom. I discovered PotterCast and Wrock and The Leaky Cauldron. I posted incessantly on the LeakyLounge, joining in and sometimes writing their chapter discussions, becoming “Resident Luna Biographer.” I was making friends again. Through the combined magic of the internet and Harry Potter, I wasn’t so alone anymore.

2008, I went to Terminus. And there, I feel I truly did discover Hogwarts. For Hogwarts isn’t a place, but a feeling and a state of mind. It’s a place where anyone can be accepted, regardless of any superficial traits society usually judges people on. It’s a place where you find people so like you, who want to be your friend, discuss topics, and work together to make the world a better place. I finally had my Hogwarts. I finally had my classmates. Wrockstock, LeakyCon, Wrockstock again, going to concerts…I had discovered a type of magic in my life.

We cried together, laughed together, danced together, worked together to change the world through the Harry Potter Alliance. We got in trouble, had adventures, and travelled places we might not have otherwise. We discovered parts of ourselves that had been pushed away to fit in with the Muggle world. At Hogwarts, we became ourselves.

Hogwarts is real, for us.

So, no. I never got an acceptance letter to Hogwarts, brought to me by an owl. I never walked down Diagon Alley, strolled the corridors of the castle, sat down to tea with Hagrid. But that didn’t matter much anymore.

Because I got an acceptance letter of a different kind. I got a letter of acceptance from the fandom, from my fellow fans telling me they loved me and wanted me around them. I had a place to escape, people to talk to, and a whole life of love ahead of me. That’s what the magic was. I didn’t have a physical Hogwarts, but I had everything about Hogwarts I loved. As Jo had told me with her words so many years before, I could, and did, carry the magic inside myself.

It’s no secret that Harry has helped me “through all the hard times,” as RiddleTM so wisely sings. With Harry, I learned over and over again how to grieve. Dumbledore’s wisdom showed me that life went on, that the dead never truly leave our world. We keep them alive. We have the magic to do that. And whenever I lost hope, Harry helped me realize there was still something, someone, worth fighting for. Hogwarts would always be there, waiting for me, no matter how hard the times. Dark days, truly, but always I could find a safe haven in that magical world.

There is magic in our world. The magic of words that say so much more than the letters give away. The magic of a hug, a smile, a dance. The magic of rain falling. The magic of music and how it can change our world. The magic of a spirit living on long after it’s dead, living on in me, simply because I will not forget.

The books are over. The movies are over. We have Pottermore to look forward to, but many people are treating this past week as if Harry’s magic is ending. But I don’t believe it is.

As Harry and Dumbledore taught me, nothing is ever lost. As long as I remember Harry and his friends, as long as I carry their story with me, the story will never be over. Not for me. I can let the story continue as long as I choose.

That’s the magic in our world.

Because of Harry, I’ve made friends. I’ve learned how to fly after I’ve fallen. I’ve had so many experiences and adventures. I’ve cried and I’ve laughed. I’ve recovered from the darkest days of my life. Harry brought me so much. For 11 years. 11 years. After all that time, I haven’t forgotten his magic. So, no, I don’t think I ever will.

We’re the Hogwarts Class of 2011, yes. It’s been 4 years since the last book came out, and we cried over Fred and Lupin and Harry’s courage. The movies are over, bringing yet more tears. But, the magic of Hogwarts lives within us. We will never leave those hallways, not really. It’s our home, the one place most of us ever found refuge. We saw ourselves in Neville, Luna, Hermione, Tonks, Dawlish…

We learned how to fly.

“It’s the end of an era, and I’m seeing clearer that nothing will ever be the same.” ~Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls

Certainly, nothing ever will be the same, but that doesn’t mean it’s the end of the magic. The magic lives on.

There is magic in our world. Jo, you taught me how to look for it and bring it out. You taught me how to let it live in my heart and soul. I can’t thank you enough for that, Jo.

But these stories and these characters have not left our world. The words continue to spin magic, bring about change, be a comforting wave and hug. We are the Harry Potter generation, and as long as we do not let this magic end, it never will.

“The stories we love best live in us forever. So whether you come back by page or by the big screen, Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.” — Jo Rowling

Hogwarts is our home. The magic is in our hearts. It’s real for us, no matter what the Muggles think. Carry that magic with you for the rest of your life, and you’ll never truly be alone.

All we Can do is Keep Breathing

It's a funny thing, time. A funny thing how much people change over time. A funny thing how fear and sadness and grief turn into a sense of peace. This past year, I've been through a lot. Finally, I can recognize just how much I've been through. When I look back to a year ago, I'm scared and sad for the girl I remember. The girl who could barely get through the day, who used unhealthy actions to escape her feelings and intense grief. It's hard to remember that, hard to think that person was me a year ago. But it was. I was scared, angry, upset, and, quite frankly, destroying myself. In a sense, I didn't want to live anymore. Not that I ever directly thought that, but that's what my actions (or lack thereof) showed at the time. And, honestly, if I hadn't gone to a place I needed to go to get help and search inside myself, I don't think I would be here typing this.

It's been 6 months since I discharged. SIX MONTHS. It doesn't feel like that long, and yet in that time I can feel myself changing. Not in every way. I still have trouble accepting myself and my body for what it is and believing I deserve things. But I've found a sense of peace in that time. With the help of friends and people who DO believe in me. There's just such an intense difference between me today and the person I was a year ago. I haven't fully recovered, not by a long shot, but I think I've changed.

I'm the kind of person who hides away from the world and from myself. I suppose it seems, at the surface, easier. Easier to ignore losses and successes and just go through the motions of life. But it's not. That's perhaps the biggest lie there is. I hid my grief for so long, and it only made living and smiling and laughing so much harder. I've lost someone. I've lost someone who meant the world to me. And I have a right to grieve in my own way. I didn't think that for a long time. I thought I was reacting to Nick's death in the wrong way, and it scared me. So I hid my grief. By disappearing from the world into a bone cage, I hid and I ignored. It took a special and wise man to make me realize that I have the right to feel however I do, and grieve in my own way and time. I can't thank him enough for that.

Nick meant a lot to me. Simple as that. Even from afar, even when we didn't talk as much, his beautiful light and the way he led his life inspired me. I have so many beautiful memories of times with him. These past two months, then, have been especially hard. I missed him at our senior events. I missed him at graduation, I missed seeing his smile and laugh light up the entire room and encourage those around him. I wish he had been there. But, importantly, I allowed myself to grieve his absence. Even in the midst of stress and celebration, I allowed myself to cry and smile as I remembered him.

And there's something else. I used to think he was just gone. None of him left on this earth. And perhaps that's what scared me the most. But, now, regardless of religion or heaven, I know his spirit is with us still. Because I still remember him. I still honor him. And I still love him. As long as I continue with that, I can breathe in his beautiful spirit. And he will be next to me. Always. Always, I will love him. Always, I will honor and celebrate his light and life in the way I know try to live mine.

"I want to believe the dead are not lost to us. I want to believe that they speak to us as part of something greater than us." ~Fox Mulder

In all honesty, I think many of us have unrealistic expectations of life. We expect to be happy. We expect everything to be perfect. The media surrounding us presents us with unrealistic expectations, with the supposedly perfect lives of celebrities. I used to expect that recovery and facing my feelings would mean I was always happy. But, really, all that led me to was a deeper dark black hole, spiraling as I tried to reach the perfect happiness that would never exist in my life.

As I said, I still struggle. I struggle with one of the most basic actions in life, that most people don't give a second thought. I struggle to believe in myself, to believe I deserve life and happiness and love. I'm a long way from escaping the voice that tells me these things, and maybe I never will. But I fight it. And even when I can't fight it, I keep breathing.

Maybe that's all we can do. KEEP BREATHING. Life isn't easy. Anyone who says otherwise is lying to themselves, and denying themselves the chance to grow. Only after we fall can we learn the beauty of flying. Only after we lose all hope in ourselves and in the world can we truly understand what hope and beauty mean. Sometimes we can't fight back. Sometimes I can't fight back. So I take a step back, breathe, and let strength come to me. It takes a long time. It took me 3 years to find the strength to begin the fight, and even now I lose that strength. But I never stop breathing. I almost did, 9 short months ago. But someone reached out a hand. Many people reached out hands and reminded me how to breathe. Necessary to life, not just biologically, but spiritually.

"Each breath breathed means we're alive
And life means that we can find
The reasons to keep on getting by
And if reasons we can't find
We'll make up some to get by
'Til breath by breath we'll leave this behind."
~"Breathe," Superchick

And you know what? Maybe there's hope. I know, some people right now are saying, "Of course there's hope." But it's not that easy for some people. It's not that easy for me, because I still struggle and because sometimes all I can do is breathe. Hope still seems so fleeting a lot of the time, because I haven't completely cast off my demons. But maybe there is hope. For me, and for all of us. We live in a beautiful world, full of amazing possibilities. And each one of us was given a life to live, a reason to be on this earth. In the honor of those we lose, I truly believe we all need to try our best to live. Not just exist, but live. Feel our feelings, grieve, cry, laugh, sing, dance in the rain. And BREATHE.

"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all." ~Oscar Wilde

All we can do is keep breathing. But maybe that's enough. And maybe there is hope. So long as we embrace life, accept our fears and losses, and allow ourselves to breathe, we are alive. Always.

Word of the day: breath--life, energy, vitality
Inspirational quote/photo of the day:

Beauty from Pain

"There comes a time when the world gets quiet and the only thing left is your own heart. So you'd better learn the sound of it. Otherwise you'll never understand what it's saying." ~Sarah Dessen

What happens when you lose something in your life? If it's something small, maybe you just accept that you no longer have that thing in your life, but you can move on and live without it. But what happens when you do that with a bigger loss? The loss of a relationship, a relative, a friend. The loss of yourself. You can't just push those losses aside, place them inside a nice little container, put them on a shelf, and go on as if everything is okay. But we sure do try.

Stand strong. Get through it. It shouldn't be that big of a deal. You can go on just the same without this in your life. You don't have the right to feel so sad over a loss. It's just a loss. Ignore that emptiness.

That's what my mind tells me, at least.

I have never allowed myself to grieve a loss. Losses that go back as far as 6 or 7 years. Place them in a neat little box, tuck them far, far, FAR back in my brain, and MOVE ON. And yet, they're always there. And the next time I experienced a loss, I had to open up that container to shove the new one in and experience both the old and new losses at the same time. But losses hurt. Pain and grief is such an awful feeling to deal with and live with, especially alone. For me, I feel that grief should be an incredibly personal feeling, so I don't try to burden anyone else with it. I'm the one feeling this and everyone else around me has their own issues to deal with. But, there's no way I can deal with those problems all on my own. So I retreat, hide behind my shield, and hurt myself to stop the world from hurting me. Again.

It took me a long time to realize that my mom was, IS a loss in my life. Or having a mother, more. When I was young, my dad took more care of us than my mom did, but I'm not sure I consciously connected that at such a young age. But once it was just me, my mom, and my sister, I lost the opportunity or chance to really be a daughter. To have a mother who could take care of me. Instead, I took care of her more than she ever took care of me, at the age of 11 and 12. At an age when I desperately needed a mother to guide me into young womanhood and to let me depend on HER sometimes, I completely lost something to cling onto. But I never let myself consciously feel how great that loss was for me. There was no other way I knew how to live, so I just accepted it, disconnected from my mother, pushed away any feelings, and moved on.

For so many years after that, it seemed like everything was going perfectly. Good friends, good relationship with my father, a wonderful summer spent guiding and teaching and riding horses all day. Then, that truck hit me as I was strolling along. Not completely unexpected, but I thought I was safely out of the way. I really never let myself feel the death of my great-aunt. I think I convinced myself that since I didn't see her that often, I didn't need to grieve her death. When in fact, it was completely the other way around. I needed so much to grieve the fact I didn't have the chance I wanted to love her and spend time with her. I also never got the CHANCE to grieve. She was gone, buried, everyone seemed to move on, and no one talked about it. So I opened up that box of losses, stuffed this one inside with the other one as quickly and painlessly as possible, and moved on with my life. It wasn't that big of a deal. Except really, on a deeper level, I think it probably was. Hence why I dipped deeper and deeper, spiraling down so quickly into a life I lived as a ghost, invisible to the world and to myself. Until someone reached in and tried to pull me out.

So in that box now there are two big losses. And some smaller ones. A not so small box filled with grief and pain ready and waiting to be experienced, growing with each passing day that I ignored it.

It's so easy to pretend that you are okay. Take on the problems of others, help them deal, put on a mask, and don't let the world know that inside, you are hurting. Things seemed to be going so well, but largely it was me pretending that I was just fine, I was safe now, everything would be happy and perfect again. But there's some things you can't plan for. That freight train hits you, hard and fast, as you're standing there, never realizing you were in its path. Why are such beautiful people taken from us? Someone who loved and treasured and cherished life, who was always smiling and making sure other people were smiling as well. He grasped every aspect of life, never complaining. His beautiful laugh will be forever etched in my memory. I feel like I know there must be some reason why he's not here anymore. I don't know what happens, but there must be somewhere or someone who needed his beautiful spirit more. Not that that makes it fair. But it gives it a reason.

I miss him. I miss all of the things I've lost, but I so miss him. His beautiful spirit brightened my life. Admiring him from afar, I learned about what it meant to truly live. To not simply feel happy, but to enjoy and laugh and smile and run and do everything to fit your passions. But I never got the chance to tell him that. The chance to tell him how much I love him, how much he taught me. Until he was gone. Until I didn't know if he was listening or could ever know. I sunk down even deeper, away from emotions I felt I didn't have the right to feel. Deeper and deeper into my shield, stuffing my grief into an already overfull box.

But the pain is still there. Nothing can dull the fact that I lost him. And that I never got the chance.

I love you, Nick. Whether you know that or not, I do. You've had such an influence on my life, and I can't thank you enough for that.

Every one of us has a journey to experience, a path to walk. We think it's our path and no one else's. Admitting you need help and then accepting it is probably the hardest thing we ever do in life. We think we should stay strong and stand on our own. But, in reality, no one can travel through the labyrinth of life on their own. No one can hold all of the burdens and losses and events of a life on their shoulders and not fall down. We all need some help sometimes. But it's hard. Hard to admit you're not as strong as people think you are. Hard to show someone else how awful you feel, because it makes it that much more real.

But when it comes down to it, I need to listen to my heart. That's the true voice in my head, the one telling me how I feel. The one reminding me of what I value. The one telling me to chase after my passions, embrace my fears, and DO IT ANYWAY.

During the toughest moments of our lives, we grow the most. Pain, grief, and heartache grow our minds and soul. When we sink away from those moments, we stay stuck just right where we are, alone and hiding.

The world's a scary place. Especially when you experience a loss. But the beauty of life lies in the suffering. The beauty lies in the sorrow, in the growth, in the living and experiencing. To stay with your sadness, to ask for help, to not try to go to fast. That's real strength. To face your emotions and not hide away.

So I think now it's time to open that neat little box and make a nice mess of feelings. To feel, to live, to struggle and grow. To finally let those losses mean something in my life. To honor Nick and show him what he means to me.

I can't walk alone. I can't pretend nothing happened. And I can't expect happiness or perfection.

But I can reach for the light even from my dark space. The light is always there, waiting for me. I have faith in that. And I have faith in Nick, the shining light and beautiful laugh.

I have faith. And right now, I just have to work with what I have. Because it really is true that that's all I've got.

"Something's pure that I am missing, holding back and never letting you see. I see all the things you meant to me in the things you didn't say." ~Beth Waters

Word of the day: Faith--a trust in something

Inspirational quote/photo of the day: