more than survival...

"You're always so happy." "You are always smiling! How do you do that?" "It's impossible to not feel loved by you." "Dang -- you just have life figured out!" "I wish I was more like you."

I get comments like this a lot. I smile and nod and say thank you, then rush to encourage the speaker or point out their good qualities. I appreciate their words. I can tell (most of the time) that they're sincere. And I'm grateful for their kindness.

But -- I don't feel like I'm any of those things at all. I don't have life figured out. I know for a fact I'm not always happy, nor always smiling. People say they want to be more like me, yet I'm constantly wishing I was someone else.

I'm not "that girl." I don't have everything under control. I'm insecure and vain and shallow -- I worry about dumb, petty little things. My thoughts are often obsessive, focused on tiny issues that probably don't matter to anyone but me. I want things I can't have -- I do things I shouldn't do.

Honestly, I feel like I'm always the girl who is struggling with something. No matter what I do, something is going wrong that's outside of my control. Either that, or the internal struggles become so intense that I can barely function.

It's a miracle that I hauled myself out of bed this morning. Part of that was because I know need to work so I can pay for graduate school -- fear of massive debt or financial strain is a huge motivator for me. Part of it was because I knew I'd be more bored if I stayed in bed -- and I felt guilty for feeling bad.

I don't feel like I smile very much. I don't feel like I'm a very happy person. Often, I'm shocked that I have as many friends as I do, particularly after I was told that I'm "an incredibly negative person and no one really likes you, which is why you have no friends. People don't like you; they don't like to be around you." Comforting sentiments, let me tell you.

The happy compliments and this absolutely devastating remark swim through my head on an almost daily basis. I hear "people don't like you," and fight back "but she said I'm nice!" And it comes back, "Yes -- but you know it isn't true. Because people don't like you. You don't even like you. Even if everyone in the world liked you, you'd still be like this."

I have no reply.

Whether surrounded by friends or in the comfort of my small bedroom, it's dark. So often I find myself begging to just make it through the day, or even the next five minutes. I'll sit with my head bowed over my desk, willing the tears to go away; I'll lie curled on the floor of my room, physically trying to hold myself together until it passes.

Each time I make goals or attempt new things, I suddenly feel paralyzed. My motivation to progress and do something, anything, is overturned -- and then I'm in survival mode. Just wake up -- just roll over -- just walk out of the room -- just brush your teeth -- just make it back to your room -- just survive.

I don't want to simply survive life. I want to live life actively, passionately, maybe even a little aggressively, meaning not as someone who has things done to them. I want to be the one doing things.

so far, so good...

4 days into the new year and it's been good...

...my bedroom is reorganized, with only a small-ish mountain of clothes to put back into the dresser...
...my last full semester of college is scheduled and my graduation application has been submitted (yikes)...
...I've seen Saving Mr. Banks and had Chik-fil-A (if heaven were a sandwich)...
...I've been to an amazing art exhibit and had an incredibly delicious dinner at a fancy restaurant for which I was not allowed to pay (which is a lot easier for me to allow than it used to be)...
...the mystery of Sherlock's two year disappearance is still frustratingly unsolved, as Steven Moffat will not ever give an inch when it comes to satisfying fans' curiosity...
..my articles are appearing online and I only have six left to finish by Monday...
...I've had good, long, honest late night talks with people I care about, and I've laughed and cried and felt alive...
...I've been hugged -- close and tight and long -- it's amazing what an honest hug will do.

A part of me still aches. That frustrates me. It frustrates me because despite all of the good things that I have, I feel desperately out of control. I feel frightened and alone and sad and helpless -- so full of feelings that I'm empty. I say that a lot, but it's the only way I can describe it.

I don't want to be like this. I don't want to feel so terrified and sad.

My wish for moments of happiness does come true, and frequently. All of the things that I've done and seen this week were happy moments; more than moments, some of them were hours. Hours of time where I could get out of the emptiness and really feel alive again, instead of being trapped in this seemingly endless state of feeling too much of nothing good.

Truly, I feel helpless. I feel so in need of help that I worry that I'm needy. I don't like needy people. I don't want to be a needy person. I want to be strong and independent and comfortable in my own skin. Right now (and for a long time) I've wanted out of my skin and into something...different. I've never been totally confident. Who is, right? But I've been better than I am now.

Hopefully, good things will keep happening. And they will -- they haven't stopped so far. What I really hope is that I'll be okay enough to see the good things, and not push them away because I'm too scared to do anything. I hope I don't do that.

little things that make me smile...

There are certain things in life that I cannot keep from smiling about. To some they may seem like silly things. To me, they mean the world.

Like...

...making friends with a brown squirrel on the walk across campus

...signing up for music lessons because I can

...seeing little Teddy run up to me when I get home and snuggle as close to me as he can (he does that to no one else)

...hearing birds singing in the morning sunshine

...watching a butterfly skim the grass on colorful wings

...feeling Adam run his fingers through my hair (I don't know why I love that so much)

...looking outside and seeing the little ones playing in the backyard or snuggling up close in their kennel

...sitting on the kitchen floor under the light of the stove drowning Oreos in milk (because that is the closest I will ever come to murder)

...snuggling down in warm covers, pillows, and teddy bears after a long day at school and work

...hugging daddy

...receiving kisses and cuddles from Misty and Molly when I visit my parents' house

...driving with the windows down and the music turned up

...walking through grocery stores for fun

...getting a soft kiss on the forehead

...eating a big bowl of freshly baked brownies with vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup on top with my special spoon

...being held close enough and long enough to hear heartbeats synchronizing

...talking to a long time friend and realizing how much you can learn about a person by listening, even after years of conversations

...drinking a cup of horchata in the spring, a glass of strawberry lemonade in the summer, a tumbler of herbal tea in the fall, a mug of        cinnamon hot chocolate in the winter

...laughing until your cheeks hurt and your sides ache from the giggles

...climbing a tree barefoot

...playing on the kids' jungle gym at the complex park even though you're a grown-up and your boyfriend barely fits on the swings

...gazing at the stars - or the clouds - or the clear blue sky

...opening a package, a parcel, a letter, addressed to you

...baking cookies late at night with someone you love

...cooking dinner for more than one person

...washing dishes in such a way that it becomes an all-out water war (but don't get it on the carpet)

...kissing good-night, soft and sweet and promising tomorrow

chalk the block...

Because when you live where I do, you can't just chalk the sidewalk. Seeing as there is no sidewalk, it's nearly impossible. And, seeing as there are yards and yards of smooth, warm, black asphalt just itching to be colored pinks and greens and blues, well. Confining my chalking space to just in front of my garage was not gonna happen. And what better way to spend a beautiful spring day than with a box of sidewalk chalk and your best friend?

You may remember when I wrote about playing this game with Parker in Idaho. It's a game you can't play by yourself, so I invited Adam to try his hand at chalking (we've been seeing an awful lot of each other for being broken up -- not gonna lie, it's been weird, but I'd rather see him than not). Here are some of our favorite drawings.

My favorite of Adam's 

Cave painting, anyone? 

NASA spaceship and -- yep -- Alice in Wonderland caterpillar

"Take a look, it's in a book, a reading rainbow!" 

yes -- because whenever I play this game, a penguin will show up somewhere 

no, it's not Gulliver and the Lilliputians -- but he is in no man's land between two warring armies 

PUPPY! 

he's dancin' with his princess

see all that chalk behind us? mission chalk the block accomplished.

Oh, and by the way -- we're dating again.

fish-ay, fish-ay...

One of my most proud moments in my life was when I conquered my fear of shoulder-deep water and the possible loss of fingers to sharks and stingrays at the Living Planet Aquarium touch pool. Ever since that day a few years ago, I wanted to go back and visit the little swimming critters.

What's one of the best things about being in a serious dating relationship? You always have someone who is willing to go with you to the random places you find. Like on Saturday.

I feel like we should look more scared right now.

Ermergersh, ERTTERS! Or otters -- probably the best part of the entire aquarium (besides petting the stingray). 

Somethin's fishy... 

Yup! Fishy...sneaky!

me with my stingray buddy (we had a nice conversation) and Adam with his shark friend

Yup. He's adorable. Not to mention he bought me a stuffed otter toy -- we named her Chloe. 

So much fun. I love, love aquariums. I think part of it is because I'm so fascinated with ocean creatures, but I'm terrified of the actual ocean. As in won't go in the water above my ankles terrified. But everything in the ocean? Awesome. As long as I'm not in there with them, I mean.

Aw. That boy. Otter-ly adorable.

temple, temple...

One of the few places that I feel total peace is on the grounds of the temple. In this crazy, noisy, topsy-turvy world, I often find that my head and heart start being just as crazy, noisy, and topsy-turvy. Just walking in the gardens and sitting on the steps of the temple helps me get my spiritual bearings -- I drop my cares and worries for a moment, basking in the glow of the sun on the temple walls.

Sunday saw a visit to the St. George temple -- we stopped there before returning home from our spur of the moment adventure. Jeff, Chelsea, Adam, and I took turns taking pictures of one another on the grounds, soaking up the sunshine and enjoying one another's company.

Pretty much perfection right here, folks.

     I think we're pretty sweet together, don't you?

Except when he does this...not quite as sweet...

Yay, friends!

housemates, bromance to the max, best friends

What a wonderful world it is. 

Spring fake...

BYU has an age old tradition of not giving its students a spring break. The reasons they give seem to make sense, such as "you get out of school a week earlier than everyone else" and "it only prolongs time until finals." But we all know the truth: it's because they want to keep us away from all of the other colleges who are out partying, where we might get into trouble.

True story.

Due to dire need of a reprieve from school, work, and regular life in general, my housemate and I put our feet down and told our men that a holiday was in order. Late Thursday night saw hotel plans and grocery lists set, and 12 hours later we four were in the car for a St. George vacation, our very own fake break.

Adam, Jeff, Chelsea, and me at Fiest Fun enjoying a game of mini golf

Never a dull moment with these two around.

You see what I mean?!

      

I love this man so much.

Shhh!

Oh! You caught us!

Yep. We're all adorable. Such fun!

i have green toes...

Once upon a time, a green-eyed young man showed up at my house with a small bottle of green nail polish, two heating packs, a bag of Darkside Skittles, and a hello kiss on his lips. Why was this such a grand surprise?

1) the nail polish was a color I pointed out at the store more than three weeks ago -- I noticed the pretty color and commented that it would be perfect for spring time, especially if paired with little pink flowers. And who remembered and brought it to me on a rough day? Adam did.
2) the heating packs are absolutely marvelous for the aches
3) never heard of Darkside Skittles, but the Forbidden Fruit flavor is now up there on the candy list
4) who wouldn't want a hello kiss from her sweetheart?

And so now I have green toe nails because I can't paint my fingernails until tomorrow afternoon -- Henry 5 is still running, and my characters can't have green fingernails.

Isn't he the sweetest thing?

waiting...

As some of you know, I haven't had the best health for the past two years or so. For a few months, I was improving, and I was excited to get back into "normal" life. However, things have taken a bit of a turn and are gradually worsening.

I admit that frustration and hopelessness start setting in at times. I haven't missed so much school since I was a sophomore in high school. I've never had this many sick days at work (thank heavens my supervisor is understanding and offers his help wherever he can). While I've always been aware of financial difficulties, I've never before felt so pinched. And I've never, ever felt so tired, never. Not only that, but my dad's getting worse as well -- though he won't admit it.

Is it ironic to anyone else that now, at possibly one of the hardest times in my life, I'm happier than I've ever been? Listing out the worries on my mind somehow brings a smile to my face. Yes, I'm physically uncomfortable most of the time, and I worry about losing my dad, but inside, I feel at peace. Every time I start worrying and the concerns press on my mind, I'm able to sit back and think about how good my life really is.

For example. Though I've missed a lot of school, I'm keeping up and am still getting good grades. My work supervisor is incredibly helpful. Money is a serious concern, but it keeps working out every time I really need something. I'm sleeping more frequently than I have in years. And dad is still here, and always happy to spend time with me.

After the third doctor's appointment this month, they finally decided that it's time to start looking for the problem, rather than treating the symptoms. I'll get the test results in a few days -- I'm hoping things will be okay. And they will be -- everything has been working out so far. I don't see why it won't continue to do so.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. For so many things -- although, the wait time for me and Adam continually shortens. So excited.

you know it's love when...

...you eat Disney princess Sphagettio's and drink Martinelli's for dinner together, and he talks about how much he enjoyed it for three days after

...he tells you that you're beautiful when your hair is a mess, you have no make-up on, and you're wearing sweats -- and you believe him

...a single text message can brighten your entire day

...you get butterflies from a simple kiss on the forehead or the back of your hand

...his advice for your biographical sketch on your scholarship application includes "write 'I'm the smartest, coolest, most beautiful girl at the school and you should give me money because someday, when my face is on a magazine, BYU will be famous, too. But not as famous as me because I'm just that awesome."

...you do dishes together and it's no longer a chore

...he tells your dog that he loves her and that she's a beautiful sweetheart

...you're encouraged to do your best and be your best, even when you personally don't want to

...he falls asleep on the floor next to the couch as you type up your paper, and when you ask him why he didn't just go home he replies and says, "Because I know that you've been hurting a lot lately, and it's easier for you to deal with when you're not alone -- just my being here helps you feel better. I love you."

...you can't help but smile at the mere memory of the look on his face when he says that he loves you

...you never open a door and you never carry something heavier than 10 pounds

...little notes and small treats mean more to you than the most expensive dinner or most elaborate evening out

...a single rose becomes a treasured possession

...you wish you could express the way you feel, but it's so incredible and beautiful that no words, no pictures, no music -- nothing -- can do justice to the joy and wonder that you feel inside

the walls come down...

a little note...

Once upon a time, I woke up from an unexpected nap on a bench at school and found this note on my laptop. I don't know who it's from, but he or she is fantastic:

Then, one time this afternoon, I fell asleep at the tutor table during my shift. I awoke with a jolt from a rather graphic nightmare. Chloe, sitting next to me, asked if I was okay and kept shooting glances at me while I pretended things were fine -- the images were rather disturbing.

When I returned from a tutorial, I found this on my books:

The top half of the note says, "You can do it! One more week!"

There are a lot of nice people in this world. I'm lucky that I call some of them my friends (because I'm pretty sure the person who gave me the anonymous note is a friend -- I just don't know which one -- after all, whoever it was did write my name on the note!)

i love kids...

It's been a little over a month since I had the chance to babysit Cade and Corrine.

Wow.

I MISSED THEM.

Seriously. There are few things as wonderful as standing on a front porch and hearing little voices crying, "SHE'S HERE, SHE'S HERE!" before they've even opened the door. Then, little hands reaching up and taking hold of your sweater, pulling you inside. Words tumble across little lips, a rush of bubbling, babbling happiness, completely unintelligible, yet filling you with joy.

It is hard to feel lonely or insignificant when in the company of children. Children are honest (even when they lie, they're usually honest about it), and in nothing are they more honest than in their love.

chalk the block...

Once upon a weekend, Parker and I went to the grocery store in search of a kite because it was the perfect kind of blustery day.

No kites to be found -- I suppose we should have remembered that most people don't fly kites in October. Instead, we found a box of chalk sticks. At $4.49 for 52 sticks, it wasn't a bad deal. Parker jumped on the idea when I pointed the chalk out, and after making our purchase we headed to the nearby park (by way of the railroad ties that crisscross the town -- dream come true for me, to walk through a town balancing on the railroad tracks).

Object of the game: the first person to take a turn with the chalk draws some random lines, squiggles, circles, whatever they desire. Then the second person looks for a picture in those random lines and "shows it" to the first person by drawing the whole picture.

Let me show you a few of our masterpieces.

Parker is the big man in this town.

Frieda the Elephant and me on the borders of Parker's Gulf of Mexico.

He did a pretty good job on this one -- my favorite of his pieces.

Favorite of the ones I drew.

May I say that this was one of the most fun things I have done this whole semester? Possibly the whole year?

It's very possible that I will be introducing this game to my own neighborhood. I've got a fair amount of smooth asphalt in front of my garage -- time to pretty it up a bit.

what I just realized...

dear Friend,

I told you last night that I don't want to go home.

"Why?"

"Everything in my life is back there. School. Work. Responsibility. People I'm scared of. I don't want to go back to all of it."

You reassured me about it all -- I appreciate that a lot.

I didn't tell you everything though.

Driving down the country lanes, stopping at random to take pictures of the sunset, taking turns choosing which direction to go at crossroads, telling stories about past adventures, dreaming about the future -- being together like that made me realize something.

"Home is where your heart is."

I've always brushed that aside as a silly cliche, one overused like "the grass is always greener." But you know something?

As cliche as these little sayings may be, they can be horribly true.

Which is also funny, because you said that this morning. When we said good-bye.

Perhaps I shouldn't say it. Perhaps I shouldn't think it. I wouldn't do those things if I could help it -- the thought came unbidden, unexpected -- they're random thoughts and you just happen to be in them.

And then, as usual, you're the one who voices the thoughts I don't say. Like we're on the same brain wave or something.

It's a little scary. And at the same time, it's not. It's comforting.

You still have my heart. Try as I might, I can't get it back. Because if you asked for it, I wouldn't hesitate in giving it to you forever.

I don't want to go home because you're not there.

At least I got to see you for a few days. You really don't know how much that meant to me.

all my love,
GKB

56 minutes, 23 seconds...

dear Friend,

That's the longest we've talked in weeks -- maybe a whole month.

After we got off the phone, I realized something. I wasn't in pain anymore. For the first time in four days straight, I didn't hurt. No headache, no back pain, no muscle cramps or anything. I didn't notice until I was making dinner ten minutes after we hung up. All of the sudden, the lack of pain caught my attention.

Maybe it's because you make me laugh so much -- laughter is, as they say, the best medicine.

Maybe it's because I know that you still care.

The pain is back now, but it's a bit easier to bear. Probably because I have your words to remember. You said some things that were quite timely. It's nice to know that you think I'm awesome, and strong, too. And now I have something to look forward to this weekend -- can't wait for Friday!

Anyway. I just wanted to say thank you. You probably still don't know how much you mean to me. Just know that you mean quite a lot.

all my love,
GKB

my Dana friend...

I had to share this because it is too cute to keep to myself.

My friend and coworker Dana drew this picture for me -- I for one don't find this giraffe ugly at all, and he is now hanging on the wall next to my calendar. He makes me happy every time I look at him. Dana totally made my day!

(And by the way, Dana is the one who named him Steve, not me. She knows me well.)

there'll be joy...

Oh heavens.

                     Oh. Heavens.

                                              OH.

                                                          HEAVENS.

Now that I'm doing oh heavening, how about I tell you a little bit about that.

Last night (Tuesday) was the first time in longer than I can remember that I have experienced true tears of joy. As in being so overcome with happiness and gratitude that I could not contain the emotions. I was absolutely overwhelmed with something I can only describe as real, honest to goodness joy.

Perhaps this is what cloud nine is. People usually describe cloud nine as being in love -- this is so much better than that. This is the confirmation that I am loved and important to God, and that He is absolutely interested in my life. That He is putting things in place to make me the best person I can possibly be. That He recognizes me for what I am trying to do. That He knows me.

God is great.

once upon another time...

People say that there are those who come into your life for a reason -- usually to teach you something -- and then they leave. Their sole purpose is to give you perspective and insight into your life, to help you become better by showing you ways to change.

That's a nice thought. It's a real nice one. But thinking about it and experiencing it are nowhere near similar.

Being on the left behind end of this phenomenon sucks (yes, I just said sucks). Watching the person who meant so much to me just disappear from my life, at no (tangible) fault of my own, just circumstances and personal changes, really sucks. Going from best friends to barely speaking, pushed aside and forgotten, hurts. Feeling abandoned, betrayed, stabbed in the back, because that person knows me -- knows me for me. And once said that we'd be friends no matter what.

"I'll always be there for you."

Well. Where are you now? Not here. Not even there.

When did that happen? Almost overnight, it seems. Best friends one day, near strangers the next. Because that's how it feels when I'm with you now. Like I'm with a complete stranger. Like I'm a stranger to myself. 

What happened to us?

There's another saying, the saying that "people should be allowed to change." That's great when it applies to me. I don't like applying it to someone else, when their change leaves me feeling alone and confused, wondering if I said too much or not enough. If I should have been different, or better. 

How could I have been different or better, though, when with you, I could be nothing but myself? 

Once upon another time, I was important. It was a different kind of important than the every day, "each person is important" sort of way. It was different because I was important to you. I'm still important. I still matter. But not being important to you, especially when you still mean so much to me, is absolutely heart breaking. 

Lucky for me, you never made me happy. I was happy on my own, and I was happier with you next to me, but I didn't need you. My heart aches with missing you, yes. However, I can be, and am, happy on my own.

I didn't need you as a friend. I wanted you as a friend. It's because I loved you -- love doesn't need. Love wants. I wanted to love you, because you were my best friend. Maybe you still are my best friend -- maybe I still love you. I probably do. It makes sense, because what's happening to us is painful, and if I didn't love you, it wouldn't hurt so much.

You taught me about happiness -- you taught me how not to need. You taught me to want, and to hold onto those things that I want. You taught me that it isn't about "fitting" together. It's about "rolling." We rolled, you know. Or at least, I rolled with you.

There's more than that, though. Whether you meant to or not, you taught me that love lets go. Because I've never loved anyone like I loved you -- and love is about the other person. I learned that even more as your friend -- the more you told me, and the closer we got, and the more I shared with you -- nothing you did or said could push me away. Until now. 

Even now, though...I can't explain it. I care more about you than I do about how hurt I feel by what you're doing. Not talking to me, not answering, not being the friend anymore -- despite it all, I care about you. Which is so frustrating, because I can't let myself react in the ways I desperately wish I could. That's why I can't be as angry as I want to be. That's why I can't scream and throw tantrums and shout to the world that I hate you. Because I don't hate you. As much as I want to be immature and childish, I can't be.

Do you know how hard it is to be the one who is left behind? To be the one who is expected to wait, to be patient, to always be there when you change your mind again? Do you know what it's like to be shut out by your best friend, the person you trusted with secrets and fears and dreams you'd never shared with anyone on earth before?

Strangely, I'm not destroyed. As much as I loved you and invested in our friendship, and as much as it hurts, I'm beyond functioning. I'm happy. I'm as normal as I ever get (with the exception of minor emotional breakdowns due to a number of factors).

I don't understand how I can be so hurt and so at peace simultaneously. Perhaps it's because I don't really need you. I just wanted you in my life. 

But, when do we ever get everything that we want? 

Perhaps once upon another time.

side job...

...there are few things better than... 

...hearing little voices yell, "She's here! She's here!" when you walk in the door

...being almost thrown off-balance by a hug from Cade as he flings his arms around your knees

...seeing Corrine model her new pajamas (called her "Minnies" in honor of the character on the fabric) after her dad tells you that Corrine has been waiting all day to show you

...receiving a big kiss on one cheek from a laughing little boy and on the other from a grinning little girl

...listening to Cade sing all of the words to the Mickey Mouse Club House theme song as he dances around the front room

...having arms thrown around your neck as a little person whispers "I love you" in your ear

...carrying a sleeping princess up the stairs to bed

...snuggling with a three-year-old in a big, cushy chair and falling asleep to Octonauts in front of the TV

...being asked to stay by Cade when mom and dad came home

...hugs and tiny voiced "good nights!"

How did I get so lucky to be asked to be a babysitter? 

And may I just say...I would rather cuddle with a three-year-old boy than with a grown-up boy any day. No offense, guys.