Break.

And then comes the breakdown. Because apparently, it’s time. Because I’ve been doing so much, managing so much, taking on immense responsibilities greater than what I’ve ever handled, so yeah… something slips through the cracks.

Except that what slipped through the cracks is a big deal and beyond anything I’ve ever had to figure out before. It’s my fault, my responsibility, and I’m struggling to figure out how to fix it. Such a small mistake and such huge fallout (or at the very least that’s how I feel).

But you don’t make mistakes if you never do anything. I’ve been trying to do everything, and so I’ve made a mistake. Sometimes I forget I’m only 19. I’m living on my own and working a job I’m not really qualified for with zero training, and with that in mind – what’s surprising is that I haven’t messed up until now. Right?

It’s going to work out however it works out and then it’s going to be over.

It’s a breakdown, but I’m not really broken. I’m okay.

~~~

Ella

Song Quote:

We’re gonna get it, get it together somehow, get it together and go up and up and up.

-Up&Up, Coldplay

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I’m Going Home

 

antique-art-curtains-home-photo-Favim.com-136368

Not my window, but a dreamy window indeed

 

I can totally do this.

The past few days have been filled with pain and the past few nights have been filled with consciousness. I am tired and tired of studying. I am sick and suffering, but I can do this.

Two tests left. My window is open to let the cold, crisp air in and onto my face, and every now and then I remember to breathe. I have a playlist of Coldplay, Maroon 5 and Beyoncé to keep me from getting too bored of my material, and a yellow highlighter that matches my dried mango (god’s gift to man).

A classic study set-up.

Not only am I motivated and uplifted by the light I can glimpse at the end of the tunnel, but I now have something to look forward to: I’m going home. I moved away from my hometown when I was 7, and in many ways where I live now is a larger part of my identity. It’s where my family is, where most of my friends are, my school, and my past ten years of life. This culture now feels as much an inseparable part of my identity as the culture of my early childhood.

But still, the thought of going back for a visit makes the words “I’m going home!” shout in my mind, bang around and jump up and down (primarily as I try to study). For once I have something to look forward to, and by golly, is it uplifting.

I just feel like I can do this, I can make it through these tests and then go home. The first time I went back to visit was many years after we moved away, and at the sight of my neighborhood I began to cry in the back of the cab. Those tears were because I missed it all and I wished we’d never moved. The tears I’m sure will come this time will not be the same. I’m no longer a 7-year-old girl. In a few months time I will turn 18 and I will need to accept that the fibromyalgia will become a part of my adult life too.

This time I will cry because I really need a break from the reality of my life that is so often sad and frustrating.

This time I will cry tears of joy, because despite it all I love the person I have become and I know I would not be the same if we had never moved away.

This time I will cry, and then leave the tears aside and focus on being where I am. The Dalai Lama said that there are only two days that do not exist: yesterday and tomorrow. In my life, my yesterdays always carry over to my todays (in the form of a headache) and I can’t help but worry about all of my tomorrows.

This time I will cry.

Yours,

Ella

 

Song Quote:

Millions of miles from home in the swirling, swimming on, when I’m rolling with the thunder, but bleed from thorns, leave a light, leave a light on. –Midnight, Coldplay

 

Stay tuned for part 2! I plan to write all about my trip.

Part 1: I’m Going Home

Part 2: I’m Home!

Wake Up Tomorrow

Tomorrow, I am going to wake up, and everything will be different. Better.

When I wake up tomorrow, my first thought will not be about pain. My first emotions will not be anxiety, fear, apprehension and sadness. I will wake up warm, cocooned in my blanket, feeling refreshed. When I open my eyes, I will look forward to my day.

When I wake up tomorrow, I will not be upset with my family. I will not feel like they say the wrong things. I will not be annoyed with them.

When I wake up tomorrow, I will not have to forcefully remind myself to appreciate what I have. Everything will feel so right that appreciation will come naturally. I will look at my life, and be pleased.

When I wake up tomorrow, I will look in the mirror and be happy with what I see. I will not think about how that girl’s hair looks better, how that girl has a better profile, or how that girl’s figure is nicer. That girl will not haunt my mirror-gazing.

When I wake up tomorrow, my day will not scare me. I will not think of each day as an age, each hour as a mountain to climb. I’ll be excited, about the possibilities each hour poses.

When I wake up tomorrow, I will no longer have Fibromyalgia.

These are my tomorrows. I live in today.

When I woke up today, I told myself to think about the dream I had. When I saw my family, I accepted, dealt with, and loved my interactions with them. When I looked at where I live, what I have, and who I know, I willed the appreciation to feel natural. When I looked in the mirror, I smiled. This hour, right now, is full of possibilities.

I have Fibromyalgia.

If I don’t have today, I will never have tomorrow. I welcome you, today.

Yours truly,

Ella

Song Quote:

I awake to find no peace of mind. -Spies, Coldplay