small things & sunflowers

 I really wanted to come back to the blog when I was in a better place, mentally. I hate coming here with content that isn't inspirational or at least positive. But it's also not fair to myself to only publish when things are good. That's not authentic. That's not who I am as a writer. And this is the one place I promised myself I'd always, always, always be my most genuine. 

This is where I've always come when nobody listened, and even when people were willing to and I didn't want to be so vulnerable. I've come here in my best moments, and my worst, and all the wild things that have happened in the middle. We'll see what happens, and I guess we will see it together. 

This is the one place I can say what I think and not be told that I shouldn't think that, or that I shouldn't be upset, or that these are my 20's and supposed to be the best years of my life so I shouldn't care so much. 

But I'm tired. 

I graduated college from my bedroom and my family couldn't be there. My parents were in the process of divorce and I remember spending a lot of my time trying to coordinate plans with my extended family that just... weren't going to work. Family dynamics change seemingly overnight when divorce becomes real. And I've always been a family person, so I took that particularly hard. Like knots in my stomach, crying out of the blue, the world seemed to stop spinning kind of hard. 

A lot of people expected that because I was 22 as it happened, that I was too old to be bothered by it. You don't "age out" of sh*t like that. And if you haven't had it happen to you, you don't get to have an opinion on it anyway. 

I was also recently told that pursuing a career in addictions counseling, something I have become obsessed with and am more passionate about than anything, is a bad idea. Because I'm not an ex-addict. I'm not a success story. 

And okay, yeah. I get it. I haven't been there, so there's NO way I can be good at it, right?? No. If you know one thing about me, it's that you don't f*** with my ambition. Or my determination to help people. Or my desire to create a better world. I don't go into the details of why I chose to make that my career. I'm not interested in publicizing the stories of the people in my life who inspired me to do this. Those are not my stories to tell. 

I chose to chase a very complex, very personal career in this because I've seen what happens when people don't get help. I've seen overdose happen to my friends. I've seen addiction tear families apart. I've also learned that addicts are not bad people just because they're addicts. They are people who need people who are ready to see them as human beings. With basic needs and to know they're cared about. 

So if you've told me I was stupid for choosing that as work, as many people have, I hope you feel stupid now. 

I scheduled a job interview that I ended up having to reschedule the DAY OF, because I was sent to the hospital for CT scans and blood tests that scared my doctors. I'd thrown up blood the morning before, and that was scary for a lot of reasons. Nobody could give me any answer. If there's one thing that scares me, it's not knowing. 

When I got the results of the CT scan, it showed I was missing a vein and that my spleen was enlarged. In the days and weeks and now two months since, I've felt sick. My doctors referred me to a gastroenterologist, who referred me to the cancer center for further testing, and I'm waiting now. I know nothing. About that, at least. But then again, I don't need to. 

I DO know a lot of things. I'm surrounded by people I love. I wish I could see them more. 

I wish we lived closer. I wish walks after dinner were a normal thing. But they aren't, so I take photos when they happen because when things aren't so clear or aren't so good, I like to look back. 

She's off in South Korea now, teaching. Her students are lucky. I'm proud of her for all of it. For putting in the insane hours, the long nights of studying for exams, the struggling with the language barrier, the courage to explore a foreign country on her own, her ability to work hard for what she wants, the passion she has for making a difference in the lives of the kids she works with, the way she's blogging all the way through the longest 8 weeks of my life now that she's thousands of miles away and not close enough to pick up for a spontaneous dinner at one of our favorite spots. Elle, you are incredible. I miss you, and I'm happy for you, and I'm so lucky you've been my person through everything.

I love sitting on the pier at Garden City, where my grandparents always have grand plans for dinner and I can play skee-ball for hours and laugh at the world and look out into the endless water and realize that I am a very small part of a very big world and there's a lot more to life than what I'm feeling now.

I've learned to embrace change, and a lot of that happened when I saw the bedroom of the first apartment I've ever had in my own name completely emptied out and naked for the first time since I'd moved in. So many emotions. My boyfriend and I got a new place together, and it's a huge step up from where I started... but leaving places that mean a lot is always a hard thing. Something hits when you see those familiar rooms emptied out.

In the old place, I'd always used these old cans to hold the kitchen window open. It was old and didn't stay open on its own, and the tiny kitchen would set off the smoke detector if I so much as cooked eggs in the morning without opening it. So on moving day, when I pulled those cans out of a giant sterilite tub, all the feels. 

Small things are what I live for most now, and plants are a big part of that. They've brought some life to my desk at the office. They're something to care for. They're a reason to escape and spend a little too much money with my coworkers on our pay days and lunch breaks and days when the world is just a little bit... too much. 

Nights out here and there are helpful too. Whether it be at the bar,

Or Riverfest for the first time in two years. This was a much, MUCH needed night. I needed a break. I'd been sick for a couple weeks, my boyfriend had just left for Japan for a month, and as I told my best friends' parents about it, her mom said, "but that's a long time when you're in love," and hugged me hard. 

I read somewhere that sunflowers usually face the sun, but when they cannot find it they face each other.

So I'm currently growing sunflowers in small pots on my patio, and we'll see. If small things in nature can find light from whatever surrounds them, so can I.

And I'm determined to. 

Again, you can't f*** with my ambition. 

I'm still working hard.

I'm still showing up.

I'm still learning to speak my mind.

I'm still learning to unlearn a lot of things. 

I'm still learning to go for jobs and chances even a little beyond my reach. 

I'm still taking risks. 

I'm still making mistakes. I'm still admitting defeat when I need to.

This is the first time I've shared any of it in a long time. 

It wasn't easy. But I feel better already. 

And I hope you have things in your life that are like the sunflowers I'm growing. Small things that are reminders of the light when days are dark. 

I hope you know there's no shame in speaking up about what's hard for you. 

I hope you know there's strength in the smallest, most ordinary moments of life and I hope you don't overlook that. 

I love you,

Goodnight, 

Stay true to who you are, what you feel and who you love. 

no matter what.