Before and After

My life has taken a turn for the positive. This isn't anything new. Because of bipolar I dip pretty low in the winter, and with spring I find myself fighting a little hypomania. Despite all the negative effects of hypomania, one of the better side effects is feeling productive. Granted, it always comes a little too late to be useful for school. But it gives me extremely narrow focus and a burst of energy to undertake and complete big projects. I've always been a girl with big dreams, and now I know exactly what that means. It means my huge wave of creativity and drive that hits me this time of year would fill my mind with new projects to start, and right around the time they should have come to fruition, I would hit a big, black block of depression. I would lose all the energy and passion that had once driven the idea with such force. I would convince myself my idea had been a bad one. It could have never been accomplished. But I know better now. I know I'm a little hypo right now. There's not a whole lot I can do about it, except to utilize it while I can.

I'm eating a vegan diet. The food is healthier, delicious, and I've really been proud of myself learning how to cook. Every meal I create feels like an accomplishment when two months ago I was still known as the girl who mistook 3 teaspoons for 3 cups of baking soda and accidentally bought 10 pounds of cous cous. I'm learning. Every new recipe I try is an opportunity to make a mistake, or try something new and fall in love with it. It's an experimental process and honestly fun. I feel like I'm doing something good for my body. And I know I'm doing good things for the environment, animals, and the world. I've found that changing your dietary habits is easier when you feel like someone's counting on you. And I've dedicated this lifestyle to so many causes that I can't possibly let any of them down. In Terre Haute it's nearly impossible to eat unhealthily as a vegan unless I eat nothing but Oreos. And let's be real, not even my sweet tooth could handle that.

I've started running. I began because I wanted to challenge the myth that vegans are weak and unhealthy. I want to be a runner. I'm never going to be an olympic runner, or even the person who wins a race, but I want to run like I mean it. Running is a kind of freedom. I tell myself I can't do it, and when I run down my country road, I tell myself about three times I'm going to quit and I never do. It's so fucking inspiring to prove yourself wrong. I haven't really implemented any other workouts yet, but I'd like to do some yoga to improve my flexibility for dance and to practice meditation which I hope may help center me when I'm feeling manic. I also find a lot of satisfaction in work out classes. What classes will I take? Well. None this summer because I have zero opportunity between camp, Europe, and vacation to take any exercise classes. But it's good to remember for when I begin to struggle again in the winter. But for now, I will keep running. Every day I will at least run a mile and walk a mile. No exceptions. When I get my Vegetarian/Vegan Student Fellowship up and running, I want to enter races together to make a point. We are healthy. We are strong. And I can't promote that truth unless I'm living it.

But here's the kicker folks: You can't be healthy unless you love yourself. A lot of people lose a lot of weight driven by self-loathing. This is true. But being skinny won't make you love yourself forever. After a while that negativity will come back to haunt you. You have to love yourself (your body is a pretty important part of you, by the way) before you can try to make that body healthy. You can't look after something you hate. You have to nourish your body and work your body because you love it so much that you want it to be strong. Loving yourself is just as much a part of overall health as looking fit. You have to sort out what's inside first.

So I take some issue with before and after pictures. The before pictures are always heart-breaking. The faces on those people reflect the self-hate that has driven them to this transformation. The after pictures display skinny or muscular bodies and smiling faces. The women have put on makeup and fixed their hair. The men pose, proudly showing off their new built bodies. But I know that they aren't happy--not really. Because when the high of pride has settled, they will be left with the same person inside that they began with. Self-love isn't earned by being skinny. So. I decided to do a before and after picture. But I'm smiling in my picture. I love my body as it is, but I've decided to start taking care of it, and I want to record the progress, because I'm proud of myself, as I should be. So here I am, right now, as I truly stand. I have fat, but I'm not fat. My size does not define me.

I'm not trying to lose weight. I'm just on a mission to prove to myself and the world that I love myself. What's your mission? What helps you get up early for that run or eat better? Let me know in the comments. :)

Peace.

Day 1 "He punched the highlights out of her HAIR!"

Thus far, veganism is both harder and easier than I thought. It's difficult because animal by-products are in EVERYTHING. EVERYONE tests on animals. And for the first time in my life, I'm reading the label of everything I eat. It's easy because it rests well on my soul. I have no guilt. The changes to my diet are only helping my own health, the environment, animals, and my conscience. I always hated dieting because being fit was not quite enough of a motivator. But the ethical treatment of animals is pretty important to me. I don't mind going out of my way to read a label or give away a granola bar (you'll see) if it's going to make a difference in my life. For the first time I'm entirely conscious of what I'm eating. Not just the caloric content (although that's a side-effect of all this research) but of hormones and chemicals used and the way we treat animals. Every time I eat I feel better about my decision. It's not that hard. I can't unsee the images I've seen. But it's not quite the same. I've been exposed to those images before, but I was neutralized to them--the were just the way things are. But looking at them as a whole person, including my compassion and sense of reason (something we all have), I cannot resolve it within myself to be any part of that kind of abuse. Now. What will I do after these forty days? I'm not positive yet. Right now I'm thinking about a stricter vegetarian diet with a few vegan months of the year. But for right now, I got this. Plus. Vegans have superpowers. Says so in a movie.

"Vegans are just better than most people."

My next promise, to exercise every day has started off strong. I had PE which kind of kicked my butt anyway and then skipped to the gym to keep working out. I owe it to myself. In PE we did Jillian Michaels's workout DVD. Ripped in 30 days. Well here's the thing. It depends on where you're starting if you'll actually be ripped in 30 days. Like. I don't think I'm gonna look like the girls on that screen by the time Lent ends... but progress will be made. The video was great. It was possible but challenging. I'll go as far as to suggest it. I left PE feeling better than I went in, and practically floated to the gym. I met Shannon there. I did 100 sit ups on the sit up bench. Comparing that to my high school records (400 crunches), it felt kind of weak. I needed a little Eminem in my life amIright? Anywho. After that I moved on to weight machines, mostly for arms, shoulders, and abs. Then I rode the stationary bike for 3 miles. I put it on an aerobic circuit which SUCKED but was AWESOME. Come here and feel my legs. Do it.

All of these dudes started Ripped in 30 Days 30 days ago.

Last promise was to journal every day. Here's what I had in my journal:
Today, for myself, I will start off strong on all my challenges.
Today, for someone else, I will add onto that panhellenic valentine. I saw huge bags and boxes of chocolate, and I made a measly card. So I took in a little something extra.
Today I'm excited for new changes!
*Today I'm mostly worried about messing up everything I said earlier.

Today I'm thankful for all the people giving me support, advice, and encouragement.

FOODS! I know you want to know what I've been eating all day. It's all you thought about all day long when you were enjoying bacon and burgers. :P Here it is:

Breakfast: I went to LQ on The Run. There weren't many options there. I couldn't think of much. And the bananas were like 70s bathtub pea green. So I got a grape fruit. I've never actually just eaten grape fruit just to eat it before. But it wasn't bad. I also had a small cup of granola with raisins. (Yeah. I'd have appreciated a bigger cup, but it was only there to supplement the yogurt I don't eat.) And apple juice. Good ole' 100% juice. It wasn't the best vegan breakfast, but it was a start. I'm going to work on incorporating some soy and water oatmeal, vegan breakfast bars, and seeds.

Lunch: I went to lunch with Grandma and a man from the foundation. I was in sweats because I'd just finished a PE class and directly after this lunch would attend another. But we went to a fancy new spot in the Commons now. I can dig. There was a buffet, but ingredients and nutritional information were above each dish. I had water and lemon to drink, and vegetable soup made with vegetable broth. I had a big leafy salad with spinach, mushrooms, broccoli, raisins, cucumbers, and olive oil.YUM. And that glob of grey you see was some pretty yummy rice-consistency thing (I later found out it was not actually rice). It had cranberries and walnuts in it.

Snack: Naked Green Monster smoothie, raspberry water, and that oats 'n honey thing that I had to give away. Let us not forget that bees make honey. :(

Emergency-I'm-Gonna-Die-If-I-Don't-Eat-Now: Another Naked drink. This one was a little fruitier. I also had a Peanut Crunch Cliff Bar. I couldn't have any others because they had chocolate. And then some roasted almonds. Not pictured were some pretty delicious sunflower seeds.

 Dinner: I came home tonight and Jim made me an incredible dinner with kous kous made with peppers, mushrooms, edamame, celery, carrots, and onions. Slightly off-topic. Funny story. One time I went to Baesler's Market to get some kous kous. And I was supposed to get like a pound. But Mom said "Just fill a bag to the top!" Well, only giant huge-normous bags were lefts so I came home with 10 pounds of kous kous. We had to research new ways to cook it. Whoops. Anyway. I also had a vegan Bocca Burger on a whole wheat bun with Grey Poupon Mustard. You're looking at this picture saying "MILK! BLASPHEMY!" Because it looks remarkably white in this picture. But it's almond milk. Fuggin yum.

So. That has been my day. Pretty full of exciting. How are your Lenten challenges going?

*Highlighting means the concern was not validated.
Note from the editor: check out those links. If your interested in eliminating cruelty-free products from your household, check out the list of products and companies tested on animals. If you're looking for a good work out video, I suggest that one because everything else we've done in PE has sucked ass. And you should probably watch that Eminem video because... well... it's badass. And Baesler's is a pretty cool market in Terre Haute. It's the closest we'll come to a Trader Joe's.

Lent. This one's a doozy.

My lovely passengers!

I haven't posted in a long time. A lot of that had to do with the level of busy I've been putting up with. But honestly, I just haven't had much significant to say, and I didn't want to write just to be writing something. And I'm baaack. :)
This is the Lenten Season. Beginning tomorrow, I'll be making a few changes. As most of you know, I'm not religious, but I consider myself a deeply spiritual person. Lent for me is a blessing to myself--to make my life better. Our holidays are set up in genius chronology. It's freezing at Christmas and we need something to cheer us up. PRESENTS! New Year's resolutions come first, and right as we begin to give up on those--LENT! It's really brilliant. Here's my plan:

Moo.

1. I'm going to end my involvement with animal cruelty. This begins with no more killing bugs. I will collect them and take them outside. And the big one: I'm going to do a lot of research to make sure I can do this healthily and put myself on a diet plan. I'm going to give up dairy. I already don't eat most meat, but I'm going to give up fish as well. (This means I'm giving up my opportunity to eat Wendy's fish. If you don't know how much of a sacrifice that is, then you should probably try it for yourself. It's only out this season.) No dairy. No meat. No gelatin. Yup. You know what that means: vegan. I'm kind of scared, but it's only for 40 days. It means I'm going to have to really pay attention to what goes into my mouth, which is something I should have been doing anyway. Lately I've really looked into animal cruelty in our nation, and it's truly despicable. And we are trapped in this system. The only meat most of us can afford comes from those factory farms, and it's chemically and hormonally treated--it's barely meat anymore. I've also given up (as far as I know) animal-tested products. If you know of any let me know, pretty please. I really want to eliminate that from my life. I know I deserve better, and so do they.

2. I'm going to treat my body better. In accordance with #1, I'm going to eat better. But I will also work out. Every. Day. I feel like this is ultimately impossible. I really do. But I have a sneaky suspicion that if I told myself it was possible, then it would happen. If have to drag my own ass out of bed at 7:00 to make it happen, then that's what I'm going to do. I will do what I need to in order to make a positive change to my body. I can do this. I know I can. And so I will. But I have a reason. I want to be better.

3. I'm going to journal daily. I started this a while ago, but I've been getting lazy. But if I'm getting up early enough to work out, then I should certainly be up early enough to journal every day. My journal entries always answer 5 questions. 1) What will I do for myself today? 2) What will I do for someone else? 3) What am I most excited for? 4)What am I most anxious about? 5) What am I thankful for. At night, I go back, and if my anxiety was unwarranted, I highlight it to keep track of how often I fret needlessly. This forces me to start my day off on a positive note. On that vein, I'm going to blog each of these 40 days. Every day I'll post how I answered my five questions, and I'll keep you updated on my progress including lists and pictures of my meals. That will keep me accountable, and help anyone else who's considering a more ethically-oriented diet. *wink wink*


This is different than giving up cussing or chocolate. This is a change I require of myself. So! In the comments tell me what you're giving up (or adding to your life positively) for Lent! I'd also like suggestions for a vegan diet and (again) if you know of any animal-tested products I may be using.

Proof and the Pursuit of Happiness

I was talking to a little girl a few nights ago. (I guess high school isn't so little, but I remember teaching her dance as a much younger, little girl. I'll call her what I want.) She's the product of a very hard life and a lack of those survival skills required to get her needs met. And now she's coming to me to help her. I want to give her Waycross. I want to make her feel important and tell her that she's more than capable to be better than she is right now. I want to give her the world. I want her to change and come to me someday with a degree and whatever else she wants out of life. A wife, kids, a healthy, happy life... whatever it is. I want things to be better for her than they were for her parents. I want her to beat the odds. Her sister, whom I love dearly, has done that. She is a brilliant woman.

But.

It doesn't really matter what I want. It matters what she wants. And she is denying herself the right to want it. The pursuit of happiness, if you will. She's so scared that she won't have all those things, that she's given up. I do have some small hope, however. She contacted me. Why would she call me and tell me all the bad things she's doing if she didn't want me to tell her what to do in order to be better. She didn't text me to tell me she wasn't going to be anything (although that's what she did). She texted me to tell me she wanted help. She just doesn't know how to ask for it. Is this my new project? Is this little girl going to be mine now? Am I going to subject myself to heartbreak if (and when) this doesn't yield immediate results, or work even in the long run? But I feel like I have to try. She's reaching out to me, and I can't shut her down. I just can't. And this is what I want to do with my life. I want to prove to girls like her that it's not wrong to hope. It's possible to be something different. That's the career I'm looking at right now, and I have to get used to that heartbreak. It will come--and in a way I need to prove to myself I'm capable surviving that.

Proof. I need to prove to myself that I can make a good enough argument to prove to the children I love that they are worthy of the pursuit of happiness. Mission statement?

Intervention of the soul.

Unrestrained Hope--A Post on Living Without Fear

It's been awhile, friends. The week of Homecoming and the week prior to homecoming was packed full for Greeks and the enthusiastically involved like myself. I had the Chi Omega tent to worry about and affiliated alumnae events, I had Sycamore Sync, and Trike, and The Walk.I'm not old enough to participate yet, but I have to worry about not hitting drunk college students in matching shirts saying things like, "Walk Hard, Play Hard," and "Keep Calm and Walk On." It's kind of like an unsupervised herd of children walking down Wabash--except hyper-sexual and profane.

Sunday, work took me to Indianapolis with Kyle. Pleasantly, Mom brought Kairyn along, and I spent some time with them. I took pictures for Tanglewood Press. It was a good Sunday day after a long, long, long two weeks.

Last night I had my date. Some of you may notice that I removed my last post. I did so because I was asking questions I've managed to answer myself, now. This is something I never used to do... but the recentness of the post made the contrast to this post uncomfortable and confusing to those who follow me faithfully.

Last night I went on my date with Drew. I'm guessing a number of you didn't even know that was happening. Dinner, movie, and conversation. In one way or another I'm guarding myself from an acca-awkward situation in the future. Here I'm going to define my feelings on the past of that relationship, my fears regarding it, and how I picture it working. *Deep breath* Here we go.

Drew caused me a lot of heartache over the last year. I was pathetically and unrelentingly in love with him, and he did not love me. I'm not the type to have a million crushes on boys and fall in love willy-nilly. I've only said it about three boys now. And Drew was the second. Honestly he led me on. On the surface, he didn't. He never made any promises he couldn't keep. He never did anything directly unkind to me. But when I look back--he was leading me on. Because he still paid attention to me. For whatever reason, he let me love him. He could have shut me down, and he didn't. It was hard for a long time. But this summer, I did a lot of processing, and when the truth of that relationship revealed itself to me, I cut ties. It was a kind of passive decision. I was uninterested in talking to someone who was uninterested in me. It's a decision I made just in time for him to silently change his mind about me. When my only contact with him was via text messages that he sometimes responded to hours later, any interest he'd ever had felt distant and vague. He's not one to talk about his feelings.

In this time I dated Jacob--a jumbled kind of affair. And due to misunderstanding, Drew and I had no contact for two months. Acca-awkward.

In an odd series of events, we began speaking again. And this time there was actual speaking. With calls instead of texts and with long-winded Skype sessions. He apologized an awful lot.

So... fears.

• I'm afraid he wants to be with be because he's lonely. And that it doesn't really have anything to do with me.
• I'm afraid my history will confuse our relationship--that was a not-so-subtle topic last night.
• I'm afraid he'll be too scared. And this will all be a repeat of last year.

If we were to make this work. what would it look like?

• No commitments. Nothing is ever in stone.
• Personal academic achievement and work always come first--even if that calls for an end to all of it.
• There would be an equal contribution on the part of both parties to see one another. I don't like the idea of "make it work." This shouldn't be work. I know long distance is rough. It never lasts, whatever. I've seen in work with mature adults before. But I still have those same fears of long distance. But honestly? Haven't we been doing that for a year? Just with a paralyzing fear of the assumed commitment that walks hand-in-hand with labels. What I dream of? It's close. Just with a greater effort to spend time together. Just with a level of temporary commitment, which doesn't dictate decisions for the future, but rather enriches the experiences we have in that moment... those moments.
• I'm a realist. My level of idealism has shrunk more as I've grown and seen the exploits and failures of those in my life, (and my own, I suppose). I'm expecting nothing more than acknowledgment of love.

If those things do not happen, I can be okay with that. But I can be nothing more than a good friend. I refuse to chase. I'm over chasing. I'm over looking. If love wants me, love will find me. and I will give myself wholly to that feeling in that moment with no care of what lays before me. Endings are as natural as beginnings. I live without fear. Love cannot exist one-way, and it cannot exist if it is unspoken. Something as intangible as a feeling doesn't really mean anything unless it's expressed. It isn't even there. Think about that for a minute.


I won't have my heart broken if it never becomes something, and I won't have my heart broken if something develops, then fades. That's just life. Sadness over such things is inevitable--but I'm beyond the mess I used to live in. I'm just as happy by myself. But hope is as unrestrained as love in it's imaginary place in our minds. I'm giving it substance by saying it here. I hope something happens. I do.

It is what it is.

You've Got Mail and Oatmeal Cream Pies

I haven't blogged in a while. I just started my sophomore year here at ISU, you know. And I had a boyfriend. Had a boyfriend. It's funny how life happens that way. I was so over men, but some little part of my just wanted to belong to someone. And for the first time, I don't really want that at all. I'm about to honey badger all over the penis shit. I had to be hurt this way to see it, though.

I mean. I broke up with Kyle. I lived on that end, and it's shitty. Being Summer sucks. And Drew? I wanted him so, so badly. But I finally came to terms with the reality that he did not want me back--and time nor space would change that. And that broke my heart in one kind of way. It was a consistent throb that I became comfortable with; it began to feel normal. I was okay with the ache. It went from hurtful, to tolerable, to almost enjoyable... but with a little help from Ms. Beasley, I realized for the first time that I was being used. We were using each other really. I think a little more therapy will reveal the roles we played for one another. Who knows. But when I finally got there, I just kind of let go. One day I drove into town on a break, and I didn't text him the whole time. I didn't even think about it. It was kind of an epiphany. I was really over him.

And right now I want to text him so badly.

That's just a sign of how unhealthy that whole business was. And then Jacob. We moved way too quickly. I was a rebound. And some shy part of my brain knew that a long time ago, but I was just so excited that I ignored all of that. I was so happy to have found someone I had so much in common with, who promised to love me despite my crazy, who said nice things, and who bought me flowers... I was so happy that I ignored the shit in my brain warning me to slow down, to read him better before I opened up. But I kept thinking that with time, we'd grow close enough that the speed wouldn't make a difference. It would just end in the same place: a relationship. I thought the road there wouldn't make a difference...

And it's not that I'm so sad about the relationship. No good relationship ends in a breakup, right? But, I've never been broken up with before. It kind of took me off guard. I expected we'd talk it out and keep going... but I sensed what was coming. I didn't want to be drug around. I just yanked it out of his ass. If I'm not mistaken, he'd expected to get drunk and make an ass of himself so I'd do it for him. I sure can pick 'em.

And this is what I said to Shannon earlier while we watched You've Got Mail, ate oatmeal cream pies and pretzels, and drank warm Jones Sodas, I said, "it's not that I have bad taste. I like good guys. I like smart guys. I like really cool guys! I just don't like guys who like me." And she nodded. Because it's true. Jacob isn't a bad guy at all. And even though I'm pretty pissed at him right now, I know that will pass, and it'll be easier to acknowledge that he's not bad. He just didn't really like me that much. I'm glad it was over before I could get any more invested.

So. I know I'm coming across as pretty healthy right now. Maybe I am. But I'm crying as I type this. And I'd been trying to sleep for an hour before I finally decided to write instead. My heart was beating fast, like I'd been running, and I felt a little like punching something, which would not actually make me feel that much better. So I decided on this instead.

Tomorrow I'll go to Waycross. It's brilliant timing. He actually kind of broke up with me by saying that someone else was taking him home. The first thought I had was? Wtf? Did he just break up with me? and then I thought camp it is then, motherfuckers. I'm still pretty overwhelmed. I'm going to try to sleep again anyway. I'll probably have more to say tomorrow.

So as a good night:
"No one will remember you, Joe Fox. And maybe no one will remember me either. But plenty of people remember my mother. And they think she was fine, and that her store was something special. You are nothing but a suit."
Also: Thank you Kelsie Jo, Cydney, Mom, Shannon, and Sara. You all are my saving graces. I don't know what I'd do without you.
<3 Chicks before dicks.

Sing a song for the good times that still lie ahead.

I had an excellent last two weeks of camp. I found myself in ways I've never before been able to do. I've felt the shaking body of a sobbing girl in my shoulder--truer tears than I've ever been entrusted with; than I've ever been responsible for catching. The tears from the loss of an uncle to the sensitive words of Michael, Oh Michael. Those words have played the strings of campers' and counselors' hearts for years.

"Some folks look back on a lifetime of yesterdays thinking of what might have been, while others they dwell on the thrill of today; they don't care if they lose or they win."

A fourteen year-old boy who has seen hardships I'll never know held my hand and cried. He said to me, "it doesn't matter that I'm going back to camp Sunday... A camp, Sunday... it isn't Waycross. Waycross is different. I'm not ready to go." And holding back my own tears I said, "I'm not ready either. But we've got next summer, and the next, and the next. That's what matters."

I brought Bri to Waycross. On the way home she said, "This has been the best summer of my life." That's it folks. Waycross has the arms to cradle the hearts of the hundreds who have danced to "will the circle be unbroken!" and swayed to "both sides now." It's a warmth we hold; a power we posses. We are One Body. We each make Waycross what it is: a haven for anyone willing to be vulnerable enough for that body to feel the genuineness in their hearts, to accept them and rejoice in their strengths.

I broke Friday night. I cried and cried. I just broke. During serenades I was useless. I didn't want to sing because I had no voice left anyway. But even more than that, I felt that lump in my throat. I knew that if I tried to make noise, my voice would break, and I would cry, and I wouldn't be able to stop. And that's what happened. I just sobbed. I kept thinking, "I'm just not ready. I can't do it yet." Things at home aren't awesome right now. My family is struggling with the loss of a parent, the metaphorical (and alarmingly possible) loss of my brother, and the intensity of my family's work. At Waycross, I was comfortable with my vulnerability to those matters. But I was safe there. At home things kept happening, but camp kept going--camp was still magic. I'm starting to learn that all those things are really all the same. Those little upsets are all the exact same. I can still live in a bubble, reflecting those painful things back to where they came. I can deal with them on my own time. And happiness is nothing more than a deep breath of sanity away.

Met an old friend on the street yesterday, got to talkin' bout days gone by. The summer camp stories we told made us laugh. But a campfire song made us cry.

"Setzen Sie fort, die offenen Fenster zu passieren"

or Keep passing the open windows. That's where my blog title came from. I also may get it as a tattoo... someday. In typewriter print. On my side. It's just perfect. It's the perfect metaphor.

Man is made of dreams and bones.

Spirit gnome

And it began. First, with staff training; a well-designed method of the development of chemistry where none should have existed before. The frat-rat and the nerd, the queen bee and the philosophy major.

It began with late nights talking to Sara about finding ourselves, liking ourselves, and overcoming the palpable fear that no one will like the person we find ourselves to be. We talked about the validity of feelings, regardless of their origin--one we still haven't settled, I think. But something I didn't think about until the conversation had passed was that I know that despite the issues I've had with my dad in the past, and despite the pain I feel when I watch as my brother self-destructs... despite all of that, I think my most impressive heartache has come from overcoming a very real self-hatred. Internal battles tend to leave us far more broken than those things that happen to us.

Alpaca

 It began with unshaven legs and accepting that no idol is perfect--except Wonder Woman. I learned lessons. I learned that going without a shower for a while can make you feel human in a way that a civilized kind of life denies me. No one smells good all the time. Everyone farts (although apparently not everyone has the weird urge to smell them even when they don't want to). Girls are just as nasty as boys. Mud pits are the great equalizer. Not everyone can sing well, but absolutely everyone can sing. There are few places safe enough to discover all of this.

Sun hats and our Sunday Best

 It began with tears I never thought I'd be capable of shedding in public. But it wasn't really public, I suppose. Reflections: A loud, a soft, and if my day were a sandwich… I cried for fear and helplessness--feelings I'm not as fond of expressing. And I earned myself a cinnamon roll hug. I felt so naked in chapel that night. I'd gotten lost that day. I was still recovering. But that day proved to me twice over how much my camp family is willing to do for me. Even if they can't understand the heartaches I have, and I cannot comprehend theirs, I know they will catch me if I fall, and I would do the same for them. Although, I know there are people with whom I can express my feelings about those things that have happened to me, and there are a different group of people with whom I can share those things I have done to myself. I learned that these people, of both ends, felt legitimate fear when I was gone for an hour and fifteen minutes--I didn't know I'd meant that much. I am vital there--as vital as anyone else. But without any one of us, this summer would suffer for it. We are one body.

Staff 2012 minus the brilliant Nathan Stewart

 It began with the sweet reminder that a single location can hold magic and comfort in hammocks, cots, cabins, and hills; in the International Birdman Society, EpiPens, slack-jaw-dance, and belly slaps hard enough to make you vomit a little in your mouth. In the sound of a cabin-mate's snores and the smell of Waycross cookies, I find comfort I have yet to recreate elsewhere.

Early Arrivals

My first week was a nice one. The ladies in my cabin were wonderful. I laughed a lot. Quotes like "I don't care if I hunger to death, I don't care if I thirst to death, I just care that I have my bunny!" and "I like myself as I am. I don't want to be a tree." still make me snort. And there are moments that tightened my chest and brought tears to my eyes. Confessions of a little girl without a daddy, with whom I couldn't help but relate to, and somehow the sight of Harry Potter books tucked in with teddy bears choked me up. Seven year-olds can teach you a lot about yourself and the world as a greater whole. Experience has taught me much, but age and arrogance has allowed me to forget some of the greater truths in life: that music and story books are significant methods of therapy, that saying what rests on your heart should not deny you any friendships—and if it does, you have chosen poorly, and finally that if you can learn to forgive yourself on a daily basis, then you can learn to forgive others as liberally. Everyone deserves the chance to change themselves.

Canoe Bruise

My second session was with some ten and eleven year-olds with the token 9 and 12 year-old. They really were a great cabin. They made me a birthday gift--a mason jar candle--that I used for reflections with them. I’ll have to post a picture sometime soon. They taught me that bullying exists and that children often lack the experience to see it. I learned that when kids are insecure, they will either make themselves into someone they think people will like, becoming all too comfortable with manipulation, or they will allow themselves to be used. The strongest people legitimately don’t care what people think of them—such a cliché, such a brilliant truth. My cabin took a hold of my heart. A little girl with a life more challenging than I can even begin to understand had the best attitude of any child I've ever met, and a girl who has had a history of bad behavior who "decided to be good," this year... nothing is more meaningful to me. I'm so proud of Waycross. I'm so proud that we can provide an environment where neither socioeconomic status nor history can deny a child the chance to be loved--to make friends.

Too perfect

 My third session was on support, which was dotted with its own miracles. It was defined by late nights talking, laughing, and sighing at those things which we cannot change. It was defined by Dark Angel in the Main House, grazing out of the serving bowls, forgetting the laptop at lunch, leading songs and skits, making mistakes into something amazing. I won't forget being a little proud of Sara for bruising me. I won't forget learning that Chantel has way more to offer than just Mama Bear. I won't forget when James tore off his toenail trying to hide from Natalie... and then ate it to make Sara throw up, (she didn’t by the way). I learned that putting basil in your water makes it better. I learned that Wagon Wheel will never get old. I met people from South Sudan and Brazil. They taught me about walking, they taught me about Gollywop relatives. Oreos, Reese’s, bath house steps, cinnamon roll hugs, little dots of light bobbing ahead of me held by tiny hands belonging to tear-stained faces, Zumba, (not) hoola-hooping, and Mr. Plum in the Rec Hall with the Climbing Rope…

Rainbow Connection

 I'll miss you, Waycross. Thank you to the land on which it rests, thank you to the Gollywops who let us keep it, and thank you to those who have made this year as full of magic as the week I first felt it when I was nine years-old.

Chanteezy

Saving Kittens: a story of PTSD

^Me^

Today, while walking the dogs, Mom and I heard a loud meowing from the green behind the bridge. And when I looked, there, looking at me with helpless eyes, was a kitten. She was black and white, and she was freaking adorable. And she ran away, but then she came back to me, and she let me carry her all the way home.

We have 5 cats.

5 cats is too many cats.

I asked Facebook if anyone wanted her. They all said no by saying nothing. And while I waited I fell more and more in love with her. It may be a boy, actually. If it's a girl she's Myrna and if she's a boy she's Merlin. <--all of that gender-title-play was on purpose. I loved her. I let her play all around the house and I cried while I cleaned because I wanted her.

So, I walked the dogs with Kyle to see if she would go back home or run away. But she followed me the whole way out and the whole way back. BECAUSE SHE LOVED ME AND I WAS HER MOMMY! And then Grandma called to tell us that a woman at the beauty shop said she wanted a kitten.

So we took her there. I cried the whole way. I just wanted something so small and needy to love me for keepsies. And I cried about abandoning her like her mother. And I cried about wanting a baby. And I cried about being bad at transitions. And I just sobbed. Mascara down my cheeks, tear stains on my glasses sobbing. I made Kyle take her in, because I was scared she'd cry for me when I left her.

I was all, "I shouldn't have left therapy. I have PTSD."
Kyle gave me a look that said, "I think that is unlikely."
I cried some more. I know I'm going to camp on TUESDAY. I wouldn't have been able to care for the kitten. Then I'll go to school and I won't be able to take care of it there, either. I love you, Myrna/Merlin whatever. I love you so, so much. And I totally don't need you at all right now. </3

I'm on my period. Stop judging me.