Patient. Fine. Balanced. Kind.

If only someone could speak of me the way she talks about you.

Here's the thing. As much as I would like to be able to be stoic, as much as I'd like to just sit back and have fun and not care about other people, as much as I wish I could escape the romantic in me, that part will always be there. I will always care too much. I will always put other people's needs before my own. I will always want a Jane Austen/John Green style love.

And it makes me wonder. How does it happen that those of us who want it so desperately are unable to achieve it? Or maybe it's that we want it so badly because we can't find it in our own lives. And so we go through our lives hoping each and every day that maybe, just maybe, that day is going to be the one when, by some strange miracle, we meet the person with whom we'll find it. Maybe it'll be the day that someone tells us they can't live without us, that every day is an adventure when they're with us, that they blush too easily when they look at us because they don't want to stare, that we are so incredibly beautiful  when we're asleep next to them, that they would do anything to make us happy.


Then we get to the point where we're convinced that no one ever will say those things to us. We think we're not worth the wasted breath. We're crazy for so many different reasons, and no one should care about us past the point of friendship because in the end they're only going to tire of us. They're going to get sick of supporting us through our emotional ups and downs, they'll be weary of saying "I love you" because we need to hear it every 10 seconds just to reaffirm it. We're not going to be enough to keep them interested.

Meanwhile our friends tell us that we just need to stop trying and it'll happen for us when we least expect it. And we'll scream inside our heads, "It's not that easy! You can't just turn hopeless romanticism off!" But we won't say it out loud, and we'll just spend our days waiting. We'll pretend we don't look for our person everywhere we go, that we don't hope someone's vague, angsty Tumblr posts are about us.





I need someone who will be my Augustus Waters, and I will be their Hazel Grace. I want to be the Alaska to someone's Pudge, and I want to equally be the Pudge to that person's Alaska. The drizzle and the hurricane, both of us. Maybe you have no idea what that means yet, but you will, and it's important. I want it so, so badly. I will be patient, as much as I can possibly be. Because as much as I don't believe it, I still hope that my friends are right when they say it'll happen for me. I'll try to keep believing that I'm worth it, that someone will want to know every intimate detail about me. It's so hard to hold on to that. But I will wait for you.

Ricochet. Take your aim. Fire away, fire away.

I've been avoiding this.

I don't know how to explain everything that's happened in the last 3 months.

Most of you know already, so I guess I'm just going to skip over most of it.

Basically, I am not the same person I was just a few months ago. I have no idea where my life is headed. I don't even know what the next 3 months have in store for me. I have never been so emotionally stable in my life. I don't even have enough money in my checking account to pay rent this month (thankfully I do in my savings, though). I'm taking a year off from school - or at least I think that's the plan. I'm not currently registered for any classes. That could change. Who knows?

The strangest part of all this is that I am completely okay. I feel like things are just washing over me, like everything is actually going to work out in my favor at some point.

Like I said, emotionally stable.

Approximately a week and a half ago, I was actually able to flip a switch and completely turn off my feelings for someone for the first time ever. I've never understood how people go from intense attraction to "just friends" so easily, but I'm finding out how it is to have a normal range of emotions. I'm beginning to be more reasonable, to be able to isolate myself from a situation and know that things are not my fault.

It is the strangest feeling.

And even with the stability, I'm still able to express my emotions fully. I am sad when I should be, I am (usually) happy when I should be, I am angry when I should be. It's when I lose the control I have over those emotions that the depression starts creeping in, but that happens so much less now.

So, to wrap up this update, I'm starting a new job this week, trying to determine plans for a weekend trip to Minnesota, being artsy when I feel like it, working out consistently, figuring out my insulin pump, and allowing myself to feel attractive/recognize that people actually are attracted to me. I am starting to be the best me, and it feels so good.

P.S. - Looking over the past few weeks' Post Secrets, I just can't help but wonder if people have secrets that involve me and who/what they are. Secrets are so fascinating to me. I can't even decide what mine would be.

No one will ever save you if no one can ever find you

So I've managed to make my life a total mess in the last few weeks.

I started thinking I could do something when all along I probably knew it was too late, and then I was crushed when I was told that it was, indeed, too late. I put myself through a week of unnecessary conversations and unnecessary tears and unnecessary worries. And I don't care what anyone says - I didn't get anything real out of it. If you'd like to provide me with an example of something I did get out of it, I welcome that. But I don't want to hear "I know you got something out of it. You might not see it yet, but you did." If you can see that so clearly, I'm going to need you to tell me what it was. Because I'm still not seeing it.

Anyway...

Then I decided to try to hide things from some of my friends, and...well...I mean, we all know I can't hide anything when it comes to my emotions, especially with the specific people involved. So I ended up hurting them and pushing them away even though that was the very last thing I wanted. I haven't heard from one particular person in a week and a half, and it's absolutely killing me. It's agonizing.

My stomach twists and my heart's in my throat every time I see I have a new email. I'm afraid that I was too late again, because I was ashamed and didn't know what to say. It was as simple as an apology, but I just couldn't figure out how to say it. And now that's all I can think about. I've spent a lot of time either in bed or on the couch, a lot of time crying, and a lot of time alone.

In the meantime, I've been trying to improve my outlook on things. I'm getting back to being on my way to feeling okay with myself. I'm forcing myself to listen to the wonderfully supportive people around me. I'm going to start trying to discern what parts of me are really me, and not just a combination of my parents. My mom always tells me "Ugh, you're so much like your dad" when I do something that irritates her, and my dad's response to when my mom and I fought was always "You're so similar that you just know how to push each other's buttons." I realized in my counseling appointment the other day that I've never really thought about identifying myself outside of that - I have my dad's eyes, my mom's complexion, my dad's short upper lip, my mom's voice, and a combination of their hair with my mom's color and my dad's texture.

But more than that, I identified myself with their personality traits too. My dad's passion, my mom's school smarts. My dad's interest in the humanities, my mom's interest in math. My dad's ability to dream, my mom's stubbornness. My dad's will to do everything possible, my mom's responsibility to the people around her.



Then if all that's from them...who am I?

So far, I think I'm one of Tilly's "Lost Girls" (see title, search song, listen).

I'm working on that.

Tell me I'm a wreck

Life's been messy lately...but it'll all work out eventually. Don't worry, I'm fine. I'll be fine.

I got a haircut today (thank goodness, because it was starting to get all shaggy and bleh). I love going there to chat with Julie. It's like a salon in a movie or television show; I can tell her all about my life and she loves to listen and offer advice. Haha, she's great. She's always on my side, no matter what the issue is - although usually it's about guys. If I mention someone, she's convinced he's in love with me. If it turns out I'm just friends with him (which is always the case, you know), she tells me he wasn't good enough for me. Gotta love her. :)

Haircut!

While we were chatting today, Julie told me that I need to "let my inner jerk out." She said I'm too sweet and care too much about making other people happy, and I need to put myself first sometimes.

I don't know how I feel about that. I would rather have everyone around me be happy with their lives, so if I can do something for them, I'm going to do it. I don't want to take away from the people around me just to make myself happier.

What do I need? I need the people around me to be happy. And occasionally let me know that they like me. Thankfully I have some really wonderful friends. I've been thinking too much lately, especially about things I don't want to think about, and I just need to remind myself to think of those people instead.

I love you all a lot. A lot a lot. In fact, I can't not love you. Speaking of that, here's the song I've been playing nonstop for the past few days that, interestingly enough, is called that:

I hope you all enjoy the Thanksgiving holiday. Much love from Fremont.

I am here with you

Nothing really important to say right now...at least not to say here. I just want to show off the beginnings of two new paintings. :)

There's nothing that can accurately describe the internal joy that painting gives me. Even when they don't turn out exactly how I wanted (like the silver on top of the pink in the bottom picture), and especially when they turn out better than I expected (like the top picture!)...it makes me so happy. I don't know what it is...it's just fulfilling, I guess. The creativity, the knowledge that I'm making something for my friends, the simple beauty of having paint-covered hands - it's so wonderful. I love finding inspiration and making the idea my own, I love seeing it in my mind and later seeing it on the canvas, I love the escape of an afternoon of painting.

That top picture could end up being my favorite one yet. Good thing, because I'm making it for a very special purpose.

Maybe someday we'll figure all this out

...sorry for the lack of communication recently, friends. I've had a rough week and a half or so.

I really don't have much to report, at least not on here. But you should know that big changes may be coming...maybe. Nothing's set in stone or anything, but I've decided to take charge of my own life instead of letting other people decide for me. I'm going to do things that will make me happier, and I'm going to push myself to do something I normally wouldn't think to do.

I need to do it, because I want to be happy. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to do what I love, and I deserve a life that I enjoy. I don't want to waste my time.

So I'm becoming even more myself, I guess. Like I said, I'm taking charge.

By the way, I'm going to be a coordinator for next year's fall break service trips. Thought you all might like to know that.

Oh hey, also. I'm planning on doing some creating over winter break, since I hopefully will have a little free time at home. If you want anything (like a painting or something) let me know.

Also, I'm totally making these someday. Eventually. When I have my own kitchen.

I can't make you love me if you don't

It's been an interesting few days. All in all, I think the rough patches in my week have turned out to be blessings. A recap:

• black-eyed susans and wild mustard
• sandhills and tree-filled bluffs
• one last sunburn of the summer
• people-loving dogs and cuddly cats
• the Milky Way
• vibrant sunsets
• late dinners
• food from the garden
• standing in a river and feeling whole for once
• being more content than ever
• still having to take life one day at a time
• late night Sonic runs
• pinkie promises through Skype
• tighter hugs than usual

13 years

13 years gone like 13 minutes...underwater.

Now that July 18th is over, I think it's time for a little reflection. The day marked the 13th anniversary of my diagnosis with type I diabetes, and to be honest, it was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. It carried a lot of emotion that I hadn't been expecting, and the day in general hurt a lot more than it usually does.

Normally my "diabeteversaries" are happy occasions, days when I get treated to a nice dinner and sometimes even cake! The past few years have been really chill, because after a while it's not such a big deal anymore. I didn't mean for this one to even be a big deal. A Facebook status, a Tumblr post, a tweet or two. Not too much. But I guess it was my own fault that it became a bit bigger, because I talked about this one a lot. I mean, it is kind of interesting that my diabetes is a teenager now. But then I started making it a bigger deal than I even wanted it to be, so much that Claire even made me a cake (which was delicious and so awesome of her - thanks friend!).

It didn't help that my mom sent me this text: "Hey hun, it never ceases to amaze me how much courage you have shown in dealing with your medical conditions. I'm thinking of you on this 13th anniversary. Luv, mama." I overlooked it when I first got it, but when I went to reply later, it just hit me. I wouldn't be alive if it hadn't been for her.

It was a reminder of how fragile my life is, how easily I could lose control, how easily it could kill me. Maybe you don't know this (or maybe you do), but I've had four seizures, including two in my sleep. I've struggled with the temptations of diabulimia (which I'm sure you can find some information about on the Google machine - too much effort to go into it right now), it's been a major source of my depressive times, and I stopped caring for a long time during spring semester this year. No, wait. I didn't just stop caring; I let it take over, I let it get to me. For the first time, I felt defined by it.

Diabetes sucks. It really, really sucks. And I legitimately am sorry that I can't explain it very well to those of you who aren't diabetic. Unfortunately, you just can't know how it affects you unless you have it. I know you can see how it affects me, and you might feel like you get it, but it's just one of those things, you know? One of those things that is just impossible to fully understand until you're the one dealing with it. That's why camp has been so important to me - it's the one place where everyone really understands. I've never had the same connection with another person as I have with Lauren, my best friend from camp. I'm very lucky to have someone like her who understands and has had very similar life experiences.

I apologize for any time ever when I have not been very patient in talking with you about it. I know that you might just want to understand better, or you're curious about how things work. If I have lost my patience (or lose it in the future), please know it's not your fault. I know I have said before that it's my favorite thing to talk about, but if I'm being honest, it's really not. I'm not going to avoid talking about it or try to keep it a secret, but I only talk about it because it's something I can discuss for hours on end.

Another note - please, please spare me the diabetes jokes. They're a lot less funny when that's your reality. Also, they hurt more than you think they do.


I guess what I'm getting at here is that diabetes is a large part of my life. It affects me daily, to an extent you can't imagine. People tell me they couldn't imagine giving themselves shots every day, that I'm so strong and courageous, that they wouldn't be able to do it. I know they mean well, and I really appreciate the sentiment. But honestly, I would trade anything for it. I'm not brave, I'm just trying to stay alive. You might not think you'd be able to do it, but five injections a day is a lot better than dying so that's the option I choose.

So...I guess that kind of covers it. It's confusing and it's messy and it's anything but pleasant. It comes with other issues, it creates a lot of problems, and it's inconvenient. It creates days like this that end in tears, and it hurts - both externally and internally. And now, once again:

This is life, and it's good.

It's a best friend marrying the man who was meant for her. It's getting to share in the joy of the celebration as a bridesmaid. It's standing up on stage, laughing at the pastor's jokes and feeling the tears in your eyes when you see him looking at her with so much love in his eyes.

It's messing up and accidentally giving the wrong address and feeling terrible and apologizing a million times. It's the awkward introductions. It's the rest of the room disappearing while you're having a conversation. It's so many hugs. It's having a fantastic time while you're not even doing anything.

It's cracking up at old camp memories and it's realizing how well you're understood by each other. It's seeing a perfect little apartment that's so crowded with stuff and knowing there's tons more stuff coming into it soon. It's staying up until 2:30 AM when you have to get up in six hours but there's just so much to discuss. It's not being afraid to share your secrets because they're her secrets too. It's picking up right where you left off, no matter how many months or years it's been.

It's muffins for breakfast. It's a bitter cup of coffee with frozen whipped cream because there's no milk. It's singing along to every song on the way home and realizing that you are so incredibly happy. It's a fresh mani/pedi and lunch before leaving again, and it's a friend coming to visit for a while.

This is your life, and it is so good.

I just wanna be alone with your smile

2 things:

• That damn dream I had this morning. It was the first one about you in months. You were standing there, holding the hand of a girl who was taller, skinnier, and had darker red hair than me. In the beginning, your hair seemed like you cut it, but then I realized it was longer than ever. You were so self-absorbed that you didn't even notice me.
• Seeing lyrics from Blink-182's "M+M's" on Tumblr. It took me back to that time when we just sat in your car and you played it for me, telling me to listen to all the lyrics. All I wanted was to buy some candy (but not cigarettes) and drive to Madagascar with you. And I thought of how those are your favorite candy, and how I bought you that 42-ounce bag of them when I left for school so you'd eat them at work and think of me.

So I played it, and Dammit came on next, and why does every Blink-182 song have to be about you? Why did I have to start listening to your favorite band so much that I can still remember all the words, even though I haven't listened to them in a year and a half? And then there was Feeling This, and I could remember singing harmony with you in the car, and how you played Down and I didn't really understand it.

And it's not that I miss you, it's that I wish you would have tried harder. Because then I wouldn't be crying about nostalgia, I'd be crying about how I'm going to be in Omaha and you're going to be in Texas for the summer, but I wouldn't be alone tonight because you're not leaving for another couple of weeks.

And I just want to know what makes you smile now and if it still hurts to think about that night, whether you thought about coming after me when I left, and why you never called. And if you talked to your mom or your grandma or your brothers and what they said about me and what if I had gone to your grandma's wedding last summer? How the smell of the Garnier Fructis in my hair doesn't remind me of yours anymore, it's just how my hair smells now.

And how I just want to prove to you how much better off I am without you pulling me down all the time and how you hated my friends and how I hated that you hate everyone. And how you ruined Christmas for me that year and never wanted to introduce me to your family and how I never understood that.

And how I wish you'd call, still. That you'd want to apologize and show me how you've changed and become a better person. And how I'd pretend not to know who was calling because I deleted your number but can still remember it immediately when I think about it. And how I try not to think about it, but suddenly it's there, just like the way you'd roll your eyes when you were being ridiculous and how much I loved your real smile and how rarely I saw it because you were never happy, just content. And how I couldn't handle just being content and just wanted to make you happy but never could and how I drove myself crazy with that.

And how you had such an amazing smile.

I can't remember the song I wanted to use as the title of this post and it's driving me nuts.

There are words colliding in my head

like strangely shaped stones

with sharp spikes and rounded curves.

I want to hurl them at you in screams

or offer them in a whisper

so you can barely hear them.

I tried to write them away,

but those words are still

trapped in my mind, jumbled and

thunking against my skull.

So I melted them and

poured them out of my eyes

to the one who already knows them by heart

and knows he can’t do anything

but try to catch them.

I must become the lion-hearted girl

It's time to organize my life.

I've got five tests left of my first year of pharmacy school. Four of them are in two weeks (one Monday, two Tuesday, one Wednesday), and one is the next Wednesday. Until then, I have time to study a couple hours every day and really get prepared for them - I need to prepare for them. My grades have not been so hot this semester, and I definitely know the reasons why. Now that we're at the end of the year, it's time to take care of those reasons and do as well as I can. It all started today with my first 100% on a test this year! Too bad the class is pass/fail...

Outside of classes, there are things I need to take care of in my personal life as well. I'm more content with my life right now than I have been in a long time, which is really great. I have more and more days where I can tell myself I'm worth it, that I look nice, that I am someone to love. I told Scott last night that for once, I feel like I can do it. What it is I can do, I'm not quite sure...but I can do it. I'll figure it out. I'm still scared. I'm confused, and I'm lost, and I'm afraid. But that's not taking over my life right now.

Fear is necessary sometimes, and it tells us that we're doing something big, something that matters. It could be dealing with a part of your life you've never acknowledged before, or realizing that these people you love won't be here with you forever (or you won't be here with them forever), or deciding between living across the world for a while and staying with the people you need in your life. Whatever the source of our fear, the fact that it exists tells us that life is about to change, no matter what happens. Something's going to be different, and we've got to deal with it.

But we're not alone. We're never alone.

I'm gonna keep this secret

This post's title inspired by the latest webcast posted on Everyone is Gay. :)

But really, though, I've been thinking about secrets a lot lately. I know some, and I have some of my own...and they're just kind of hard to deal with sometimes.

It's really difficult when you want to tell someone all of your secrets, but either (a) you know you can't because you promised you wouldn't tell people, or (b) your brain tells you that you shouldn't tell that person, for some reason.

I generally try to be a relatively translucent person when it comes to my thoughts. You know when I'm happy, stressed, angry, sad, hopeful...but sometimes, especially when I'm scared, I feel like I have to keep it in.





And right now...I'm scared, guys.