And all the sad words.

 

And all the sad words have been written and recorded.

In a loaded diary, in untitled documents, on discarded pieces of paper,

And in tears that have since dried.

 

And all the sad words break my heart right back into a million pieces,

Into sharp edged shards of glass that glisten and glimmer, mocking me.

And yet slowly the glass crumbles into sand.

 

And all the sad words sound like they were written by someone else,

Someone who seems to know exactly how I felt,

But who isn’t me. Because my attempts to distance myself from those shards of glass…

 

Are starting to work.

 

I can breathe.

 

Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I glimpse the shadow of that girl. The one who couldn’t think, who couldn’t hear her own voice, who felt so torn apart inside it’s a wonder she remained intact.

 

That girl looked haggard.

She was in love,

But she was hurting.

 

I catch other glimpses though, in that stained and cracked bathroom mirror. I see the reflection of an elegant woman. She is brave and wise, confident and pure of heart. She is golden, effervescent, enchanted…

 

She knows how to love, and she will love again. And maybe next time it will be right.

 

~

Ella

 

“Birds flying high, you know how I feel / Sun in the sky, you know how I feel / Breeze driftin’ on by, you know how I feel / It’s a new dawn / It’s a new day / It’s a new life / For me.” – Nina Simone

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Believing in Bloom

Sometimes I just feel it’s only me.

According to my brain and heart, there is Truth, Magic and Bloom.

Truth is personal. It belongs to each of us and to none of us. Whatever my Truth is, it’s legitimate, and whatever yours is, it is too. I try to see and understand each person’s Truth in the way that they do. You can’t deny the validity of somebody else’s world.

Magic is something I can’t seem to pin down… Magic is fleeting moments of pure joy, along with moments of awe and appreciation for everything that this incredible world holds. Magic is seeing the bigger picture and knowing it’s the little things. Magic is… hope. It is not something I control, but it’s something I’m learning to preserve in order to survive. To survive in the hopes I will reach:

Bloom.

Bloom is something I will only truly be able to achieve once I am better. Once I am healthy. Once I am free: released from this prison that coils bars around my bones and marches jail keepers around my core. You know my pain and you know my frustration – I feel no closer to health than I have any of the multiple times I’ve cried to you in writing about how hopeless I am.

Therefore, Bloom feels like an abstract concept that I run the risk of never really understanding. I’m not sure I believe in Bloom. Will it all just pass me by? It’s scary to think about it, because what if I find nothing but disappointment? What if I never get to Bloom?

~~~

Still I wonder. So I take a step back and evaluate my life. What I’ve done thus far with the circumstances I have been given makes me proud. I can declare, with my whole heart, that I am doing well. As always, “still so many ups and downs”, but I don’t take for granted all that I have been managing. When I compare now to this time last year… I know so much more than I did then. I just don’t know enough about Bloom. I’d like to believe it will happen naturally. Must sustain myself until then.

~~~

According to my brain and heart:

Bloom is what my Truth will be once Magic decides to come and stay.

~~~

Ella.

Song Quote:

I wish I could live a little more, look up to the sky not just the floor, I feel like my life is passing by and all I can do is watch and cry… I miss it when life was a party to be thrown, but that was a million years ago. -Million Years Ago, Adele

(I think everyone must relate to this song so differently… the first time I heard it I cried because I felt it perfectly summed up how I feel about being sick. Now when I cry I think to myself “My life is passing by and all I can is watch and cry”.)

~~~

P.s. This post is loaded with references to earlier pieces I’ve written and posted on this blog since I created it nearly three years ago. Did you catch them?

Just Stop

Stop.

Stop the onslaught of time and how it rushes through your fingers like the sand you scoop by the sea.

Stop the pressure of the future that you can’t figure out and how it weighs on your mind all the time.

Stop doubting that you can and will do incredible things with your life and your talents and your passion for everything you love.

Stop feeling so small. Stop crying in the middle of the night, gasping for breath on your blue carpet because your life is not what you imagined it would be. Stop letting the fear get the better of you.

Just stop.

 

~~~

Life is the ups and the downs as much as it is the benign. I would never choose not to feel all of this, because all of this is what it’s all about. As always, I thank you for the kind comments you leave. You don’t even know me, and yet you know my lowest moments. Life is a journey and I’ve found myself with you along for the ride, and that is truly a gift.

Love,

Ella

 

Song Quote:

We’ve got younger faces than our hearts are letting on. -Novels, Rusty Clanton (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kc5X66kFIMg)

The Interview Anecdote

Don’t let your cheek twitch. Yes, yes, I know it wants to, but don’t let it.

This is exciting! You might be setting foot on the campus of your future for the first time! In fact, the campus doesn’t look all that pretty… and the guys here look kind of weird, not handsome like you imagined… but that’s okay, this is still cool. This is still exciting!

Room 112, that’s where the magic will happen. If only we could find it. Around and around and around… I swear I’ve been down this corridor. Front desk, we meet again. Didn’t you hear? They changed the rooms. 112 doesn’t exist, it’s a typo.

Down the hall, hall down the, the hall down. Here we are!

Why thank you, I am welcome.

Is it just me or is this chair built weirdly? How do I exude leisure and confidence while in a chair that awkwardly leans backwards? I don’t know.

Maybe I should have realized that I would need to speak, need to tell them why I’m interested in joining this lovely and competitive school, but I didn’t. At least someone spoke before me.

The man was nice and he seemed to like my answer. Good job! You’re doing so well!

I will let you tell me a little bit about the course.

It’s fancy, yes, that’s why I’m here.

It’s revered, yes, that’s why I’m here.

It’s creative, interesting, professional, yes, yes, yes, that’s why I’m here.

It’s night courses.

Don’t let your cheek twitch. Don’t let the nice man see your face fall. Don’t let yourself acknowledge the disappointment coursing through your insufficient veins. Don’t let this inefficacy affect you. Don’t let your body’s inefficiency be a character in this conversation.

Don’t let your cheek twitch. And whatever you do, goddamit, don’t you dare cry. Tears are beneath your pain right now.

What? Oh, no, I don’t have any questions. Actually, just one: do you offer any daytime courses?

Oh.

Have you heard of any places that do?

Oh.

No, thank you, it was great meeting you.

You wish me health.

I wish me health too.

Cause wouldn’t health just be a great thing? Wouldn’t it just solve this all right here, right now? Wouldn’t it save me this pain, quite literally? Wouldn’t it spare me this turmoil of watching my independence quiver into a mere dream, of watching everything that excites me be cut down and vaporized, barred from me because I just can’t freaking do it?

It would. But it won’t. Because health is nothing but a rumor around here. My body believes it to be a fantasy, in fact. You should never hope to chase a fantasy, it tells me. Because this body of mine, it hates me. I’m looking down on it now, in fact, using it to type these words, but it’s using me, too. Using me to make me miserable. What it gains? I’m not sure.

I won’t be going there next year. I won’t be going anywhere. I will remain exactly where I am, writing about being sick and totally sick of it, treading water, paddling backwards and discovering that all my hopes are in the muddy puddle I keep treading in over, and over, and over.

Game over. Wave your dreams goodbye as they pass you in the car you could drive if you had anywhere to go.

The people around say: “It’s okay, there will be other courses. Something with daytime hours, something you can do.” The people in me say: “Believe them. Please, please, believe them! If you don’t, what will we do?”

I say: “Give me a chance to live my life for once. Give me my choices back. Give me freedom. Give me an interview I can be happy about.”

But whatever you do, in this life, don’t let your cheek twitch.

Ella.

Song Quote:

I have tried but I don’t fit into this box I’m living with. –The Box, Damien Rice

Not This Way

This isn’t how it was supposed to go. I wasn’t supposed to feel like I was seconds away from collapsing all day. I’m not supposed to feel this upset after what otherwise would have been a great day.

 

Today was my first day of junior year, and like anyone would be, I was excited, nervous, and not at all eager for it to start. But at the same time, I was worried. I chose a beautiful outfit to wear today, got my hair cut a few days ago (so now when I wear it down it’s layered and naturally wavy), and got myself just a bit pumped about a new school year. But I was worried.

 

Ten minutes in, I felt sick to my stomach and needed to run outside. Too much noise, too many people, too many limbs around me. Outside it was extremely muggy, so after realizing I was probably going to get more oxygen inside, I went back in. Playing super hero music in my head and thinking “I’m going in” helped a little bit with that tough decision.

 

See, you all pretty much know me by now, or know the way my quirky head works. You know that I am generally an optimistic person, and that in almost every post, regardless of it’s theme, I have some witty or weird sentences that lift the spirits a bit. This comes naturally, and it wouldn’t be me writing if whatever piece didn’t have those. Right now though, I don’t want them to be here, because it’s makes me sound happy or strong or brave or whatever, and I’m not! Well. I am. But I’m not. You know?

 

No.

 

I had a really hard time. I’m not going to get into everything that happened today, but I’ll share a few main events that show that the staff at my school are incredible, and that I feel really sick:

 

-My teacher had the “tech staff” turn down the volume on the microphone after it worsened my migraine.

 

-The school guidance counselor brought me a cup of water and offered to take me home when she saw how I looked (dead and sweaty).

 

-The principal picked up my backpack, carried it for me, and let me stay in his office (under the air conditioner) until I felt a little better.

 

-The school superintendent is setting up a cupboard in my main classroom so I don’t have to walk down two flights of stairs to get to the lockers.

 

So as you can see, my school has been absolutely amazing to me so far, and it’s only been a day. I’m so incredibly thankful for them, especially the guidance counselor who has been on my side since the first day three years ago, when I transferred into this school. She’s known me since before all of the medical shifts and scares.

 

At the same time, this year is extremely intense in terms of school work and schedules, and my energy is so limited that whatever leeway I’m given will only make a dent. I have a long scary year ahead of me, and I want to just go ahead and tackle it, but I don’t know if I can. I’m so sick and so tired after one frickin’ day. How am I supposed to last more than that?

 

It doesn’t help that I haven’t seen my dad in forever. Part of it as because my vacation was longer than the rest of my family’s, so I missed a week, then he went away on business. It has been two and a half weeks since I saw him, and he comes back this Friday. Usually our relationship is great, even when he’s away, but this time it’s been complicated. He’s away so often, and he misses so much of my life. I know it’s not fair to be angry at him, because it’s not like he’s having that great of a time and he’s just abandoning us. He’s working all day long, and I know that he’s probably lonely. He just… he’s away, you know? My life keeps going, and two weeks in teenager land is a major chunk of time.

 

He misses doctor’s appointments, school meetings, tests, and dinner I cooked for everyone last night. Ten minutes on the phone everyday is just not enough. He also has a knee-jerk reaction to any complaints, which is to get angry/frustrated and try to make it clear to us that the world is a mean place and we should just deal. The thing is, I’m not like some other family members: I rarely complain. I rant, but in a funny, sarcastic way. If I’m complaining, it means it’s serious and I need support. Him telling me off is not what I need. It’s not like I’m trying to have a bad day on purpose.

 

For instance, when my mom and I went to another doctor last week (a new one), he (the doctor) was a total jerk and upset me a lot. I talked with my dad on the phone right after, and I was basically sobbing into the phone. He very quickly just got frustrated and told me I should just deal and not over-react. When I talked to him the next day he told me he talked to my mom, and “it turns out” I “wasn’t exaggerating, the doctor really was a jerk”. No kidding. I told him I don’t normally complain or make a big deal out of little stuff, so if I tell him something, he should just take it as it is. It’s the truth. It doesn’t help that he always has to cut the conversation short because a meeting is starting.

 

I try to be understanding, to tell myself that he’s working really hard, that he didn’t choose to have to travel so much (except he did, basically), and that he would much rather be home with us all the time. But at the end of the day, when I’m a kid and he’s my dad, he just isn’t home. I hate it, and I’m crying, because I miss him and I don’t want to have to write this down. If I don’t though, I’ll just feel worse.

 

Starting a new school year is never supposed to be all that amazing, but it definitely wasn’t meant to be like this. I just want to feel better already. Screw all that telling myself it could be worse, and that I should love and enjoy life. Life right now sucks. I want to be better. Healthy.

 

I can’t sit here anymore, my back hurts.

On that absolutely beautiful and uplifting note,

Yours truly,

Ella

 

Song Quote:

All the dishes and the words would pile up inside, she loved the world but it didn’t love her back. -Expecting Too Much, Orla Gartland