Showing posts with label childhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label childhood. Show all posts

Saturday, October 5, 2019

Nostalgic

Oh, how I long
For days of long ago
How I wish
We could go back

I wish we lived
In the days
Of yesteryear

How great that would be

Sunday, September 22, 2019

Poem to Me

Please forgive me
I've been so broken
Please forgive me
For the words I've spoken

I don't know how
To prevent your cry
I don't know how
To not live a lie

Monday, September 9, 2019

Thunder by Boys like Girls


On the whole when I hear this song, I picture my eighth-grade culmination party. I had just been gifted an iPod touch by my family. Everyone pitched in, even underage siblings. I downloaded this video before we left. And I walked around my party, listening to it and waiting. Waiting for the current love of my life, my thunder to show up. And he never showed!

But in a decade, it’s so much more than that.

Today is a winding road
That's taking me to places that I didn't want to go, woah



Life never goes as I want. Walking down a street I don’t want to be on. On a day I don’t want to be upright, to live. To live a life, I don’t want to exist.

Today in the blink of an eye
I'm holding on to something and I do not know why I tried


Why did I try this time? Why did I try last night? Why didn’t I try when it mattered?

I tried to read between the lines
I tried to look in your eyes
I want a simple explanation; what I’m feeling inside
I gotta find a way out
Maybe there's a way out

I’m always looking for a way out. Looking for a way out of relationships with others. Looking for a way of out a relationship with myself. Looking for a way out of life.

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer
Do you know you're unlike any other?
You'll always be my thunder, and I said
Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors
I don't wanna ever love another
You'll always be my thunder
So bring on the rain
And bring on the thunder

That summer before eighth grade, my love’s eyes were the “brightest of any color”. In my memories, they still are.

Today is a winding road
Tell me where to start and tell me something I don't know
Today I'm on my own
I can't move a muscle and I can't pick up the phone, I don't know

Is there a better lyrical representation of depression?

And now I'm itching for the tall grass
And longing for the breeze
I need to step outside, just to see if I can breathe
I gotta find a way out
Maybe there’s a way out

I just want to feel again. I’ve been struggling to breathe since I was three. But the times that I’ve been able to, make me able to push on.

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer
Do you know you're unlike any other?
You'll always be my thunder, and I said
Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors
I don't wanna ever love another
You'll always be my thunder
So bring on the rain
And bring on the thunder 

My first nanny charge was the highlight of my summer. He gave it sound and he gave it color.

Yeah I'm walking on a tightrope
I'm wrapped up in vines
I think I'll make it out but you just gotta give me time
Strike me down with lightning
Let me feel you in my veins
I wanna let you know how much I feel your pain

No matter what, I’ll always make it out. For 3 year old me. For my 3 year old. For Blue, Emerald, Indigo, Grey. For aunt. For my mom.

I rarely acknowledge it but I feel your pain. I'll try to valid it more.

Today is a winding road
That's taking me to places that I didn't want to go, woah

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer
Do you know you're unlike any other?
You'll always be my thunder, and I said
Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors
I don't wanna ever love another
You'll always be my thunder

Spring was just another time to me. In between my least favorite seasons, winter and summer. Basically my favorite for not being the fall I was born into, winter I lost my mom, or summer I lost my dreams. One spring gave such meaning that I fell back in love with summer. And this new love is greater than the love I felt before eighth-grade summer.

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer
Do you know you're unlike any other?
You'll always be my thunder
So bring on the rain
And listen to the thunder

His voice powers the thunder of my heart.


Sunday, April 30, 2017

Con vs Pro

I hear someone say recently, "You say it's the worst it can get, but then it always gets worse. It can always get worse."

All I could think was, "I truly hope the worst is behind me."

Worst moments:
1 - When I almost lost Grey.
2 - When I was sure suicidal ideation was going to beat Purple after all - "suicidal panic attack" as I named the only one I've experienced.
3 - When I fully realized mom would never again hold me as I cried.
4 - When I couldn't see Indigo in the hospital because I was underage. Even though I was the final trigger.
5 - When I did see Indigo in the hospital.
6 - When Emerald was lost downtown, late at night, and all I could do was wait on Blue to help.
7 - When I had a second extreme panic attack at school. The first, at 7, was confusing. The second was, at 13, frustrating, embarrassing and the beginning of the end of public school.
8 - When I realized what a homicidal, suicidal mess Purple was, by reading a collection of poems written at 12. Would never attempt but the fact that such dark thoughts existed? That terrified me.
9 - When I was born.
10 - When Indigo moved out. And I couldn't no longer turn to them to give and receive support.
11 - When I couldn't see where Indigo and Emerald were in the shelter. I couldn't see their beds so I couldn't sleep.

Best moments:
1 - When Burgundy was born.
2 - When Burgundy was the winning factor Purple had over the "suicidal panic attack".
3 - When Burgundy made me smile in spite of the remaining migraine.
4 - When I gained a real Father, 26 days before I turned eleven.
5 - When I spoke to my Father in the language of my heart, at 19 years old.
6 - When I joked around with Blue as we shopped.
7 - When I reunited with my "soulmate/other half"
8 - When I laughed at Grey's stubborn consumption of almonds, despite their allergy.
9 - When I hung out with my pair of lovelies even though I was tired. 2.5 & 4 years old still makes me smile.
10 - When I followed my lovelies up with more fun. And partied through a torn ligament in my just relocated knee.
11 - When Indigo came back.
12 - When Indigo came home.
13 - When Emerald hugged me as I sobbed, at 17. Almost as good as mom.
14 - When Emerald, Indigo and I promised to be there for each other.
15 - When I realized, at 21.5, the day I almost died was 10.75 months ago. I'm close to being a year survivor. The anniversary isn't known for sure. But my guess is late May to mid June.

So yes, bad things happen. But along with the negative that can come, positive definitely will accompany it. It may even outweigh it.

The worst may not be behind me. But I know the best is out there too. Both ways, present and future the best is waiting to even it out. And then one day give a surplus.

And no matter how worse it gets, my previous worst have prepared me to face it all unafraid that it will win. It won't win because I have been trained not to lose. Or even think I could lose.

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Unapologetically Me

So it's my birth date once again - I'm 21.

I've been alive for over two decades.

I've experienced so much.

I've been had sadness as my standard state for so long.

My 21st year was difficult. It was the scariest year I've ever been through. I didn't know where I stood with anyone. I thought I'd fallen apart too much. That 2 decades of guilt would become too much.

And the last few weeks have been especially hard. In waiting for my least favorite days, I truly hated September this time. I kinda regretted letting it happen.

Not anymore. I've spent a few hours looking back on the year and I'm proud of myself. I am almost done with school. I scheduled a driving appointment. I regularly attend my various medical/mental appointments. I don't hide out in my room the amount that comes naturally. I force myself out and to grow. I was myself, unapologetically.

I've adopted parents from media. I've made friends from times past. I've found even more things that matter to me, more that interest me, more to do in the future. I'm sure that I'll be here for many more September 28th. I doubt I'll treat them as I did as a child and adolescent. I no longer desire missing the month of September. 

Wow, I'm not an adolescent anymore. I am at the age that universally, physically, scientifically, philosophically can't be denied as adulthood. I'm leaving one club behind and am going the older, responsible group. While I hope never to have children of my own, I hope as a member of the second group I can guide the young club.

I look forward to my 22nd year. And all the changes that shall so be coming with them. Being in charge of myself is much different than raising yourself with no plan or advice. I'll keep you in the loop. I'll share the progresses that allow the woman I've always wanted to be, to have space and feel free to challenge me. Purple Owl will be changing shades throughout the year. But always a type of Purple for confidence and lock on identity.

Friday, September 23, 2016

Autism In Love

Disclaimer: this movie included some language and phrases I didn't appreciate. But it was just too moving not to share. Also, spoilers!

I didn't know what I was going to get with this documentary. I came away from it caring for all the subjects. I even felt like three were my close friends while a fourth was myself.

The Subjects:
Lenny (Leonard) - raised by a single mother, currently lives with mother & stepfather.
Dave - parents were not in the video. He has a scientific geared mind.
Lindsey - father was interviewed. She leans toward creativity.
Stephen - oldest of the group. He lives independent of his parents.

Lifestyle:
Lenny graduated high school a while back and does not have a job. He spends time playing video games, at diners, at the park, and talking to friends.

Dave & Lindsey met at an Autism convention in 2005. They were at 8 years dating when the documentary began. I'm not sure if they live together since Dave mentioned "she tucks me in at night." (That could go either way.) Dave works in physics. I'm not sure about Lindsey but office friendliness seems valued. Her coworker/employer was pleasantly surprised by her social adaptation level.

Stephen works the U.S. Postal Service. He does some kind of systematic work, which sounds relaxing. It seems like he is more interested in the work than the social aspect.

Love Life:
Lenny is single. He has one ex-girlfriend. But she wanted to make things more physical than he was comfortable with. Lenny also has a range of beliefs about romantic relationships that I don't necessarily agree with.
1) A man must have a job - I see the value but it's not a rule breaker to me at the beginning of dating. Courtship though is another matter. And if he loses the job, do they break up?
2) A man must make more money - honestly I'd love for the money to be pouring in and me to never have to move an inch. But I also believe in moderation and not working just for the money. If the man is stressed just to make a dollar more, is it worth it?
3) Women shouldn't pay for anything - while I appreciate the principle there and the natural, inborn desire men have to take care of their own, I don't agree wholeheartedly. Men should be able to pay for most. But to me a grown, adult woman should be able to pay for most, too. My general rule when someone else is paying for me, "if I couldn't afford it, I can't get it." However, the beauty about relationships, romantic or otherwise, is complementing each other. If both want to go out but won't pay the same amount, should the decision be affected by which gender they are?
4) Overall, a deep seated belief of inequality - men crave respect & women crave love. We aren't exactly the same. Those aren't the only things we need though. Men need love & women need respect, just not as intensely on the norm.

At 8 years dating, friends wonder why Dave & Lindsey aren't married yet. I personally don't think it's that long to date for a couple who both have a diagnosis that involves difficulty in developing relationship and communicating. They are so adorable.

Dave gives a beautiful math or science (as if I fully understand it academically) formula for love. L + P + 2T = % of love. L is for looks and physical attraction. But love has to last past those 3 years of lust so next is P for personality. The most important is how they treat you, so 2T. A person who rates high on based on their treatment of you has a better chance than based off of looks and personality alone. This is how Dave knows he is in love with Lindsey. Especially because the feelings have lasted 8 years.

Lindsey says despite not fully understanding each other, they make room for their routines and rigidity. They have been through a lot and their love is proven by remaining together. Lindsey faces love more emotionally than Dave. She knows she's in love with him because she wants to go at a pace comfortable for him even if it's not best for her. Lindsey feels that valuing the other person is love.

Stephen got married in the early 1990s. He lived with his wife, Edith, for 17 years until she was diagnosed with a brain tumor in 2010. She had surgery and has been in a different town recovering since. She has medical ups and downs. Stephen isn't very verbal so I couldn't gather how much he knew about his wife's condition. His mother said he hopes for the best and believes Edith won't die. He remembered all the dates, even what he said when they met. Stephen said he knows he loves her because he cares for her. He wants to kiss, hug her and wished her the best. Awwwww!

Other struggles in the film:
Lenny was obviously suffering from depression. He felt less important than his peers who are in college or have graduated from there and moved on to jobs. He was unhappy with his diagnosis and its affect on his life. Lenny's self esteem very low. As a result of this, at one point he went to a mental hospital due to concerns that he would harm himself.

Lindsey was trying her hardest to be content with what Dave was able to give her. However, she didn't feel assured of his love. They had discussed marriage a few years prior. She pretty much promised her acceptance whenever he was ready to propose. But Dave hadn't been ready before and during the documentary. It increasingly became a topic. Up to the point, that he went ring shopping.

Edith died in 2013. Stephen was asked if he was still in love with her. He said "no. When a person dies, you can't hug or kiss them anymore. So I'm not in love with her." I translated that as the romantic love has ended but he still loves her and treasures the memories. I don't know if that's correct or arrogant of me to assume, but I just don't think he could verbally express it. That doesn't mean he couldn't feel it though, which was the position the concept of the documentary took.

Conclusion:
Lenny has a job at a grocery store. He seemed much more content with his life. I wish we got a closing interview with his mother.

Dave proposed to Lindsey! In a way that was perfectly them! She's teaching him piano and I couldn't have fangirled more.

Stephen is back at work after a few months. His parents said it was good for him to be back to a routine. While he was affected greatly by his wife's death, his ability to talk about her was encouraging. I don't know how long had passed when the interviewer asked. And I don't know if his way of communicating made it seem like he was coping better than he was.

My reaction to the subjects:
I hope Lenny continues to grow in self-esteem. Like his mother said, he's awesome. He just needs to realize it. I hope he learns that relationships, romantic or not, don't have to follow a rule book. That it's okay to write your own story.

Lindsey felt like a future me. She knows that she is struggling. But she faces it head on, bravely. And when she mentioned necklaces make her feel protected, like she has a barrier between her and the world, I realized that's how I feel about accessories, hair, and makeup. I'll give people something to talk about as long as it's superficial and not something that I'm self-conscious about.

Dave was amazing. I don't get science and math, probably because I tell myself that. But I could almost always understand him. I appreciated how blunt he is. I know that's a characteristic of the diagnosis but it felt like it was more of a characteristic of his, regardless of ASD. Excepting Lindsey, I feel like everyone always knows where they stand with him.

Stephen is how I wish I could be. He spoke when people are "supposed to". He can hold a conversation. He can convey his feelings partially and those who love him fill in the rest. I'm sure he has had difficulties in his life especially in the "olden days of heightened prejudice" and while dating. But as much as we can say that being unable to share your thoughts and feelings is a bad thing, there's a slight plus. No matter how much people push, they're only going to get so much out of you. With a person on the Autism Spectrum, any more gained is an indescribable joy. But as someone who can't stop talking, even when my thoughts and feelings really don't need to be shared, I'm slightly envious. The grass is always greener on the other side.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Eras

Throw Back Thursday

Mom Era: 0 - 8 years old

This was a stressful era. Mom was sick. I was sick.

But the leader of the era was always around. She explained things to me. Things most people wouldn't think to explain to a child. Things most people would think was beyond a child. Things most people would think damaging for a child.

I couldnt tell her my secrets. I didn't want to upset her with my worries. Somehow, she seemed to know them anyway.

Mom held my hand as I had my MRI.

Aunt Era: 8 - 13 years old

This was a quiet era. It built underground and erupted suddenly towards the end.

The leader wasn't always available. She was tired from working and caring for us. She was busy. She was overwhelmed.

I fought her over my secrets. I wanted her to worry over them. I wanted them to matter. I wanted to matter.

She loved me through the worst times.

Blue Era: 14 - 16 years old

This was a quick era. It took longer to adjust to than it actually lasted. It shocked me when it ended.

The leader was unsure. He had a lot of concerns. He was in charge of so many people's happiness. He didn't talk to me as much as he had during the other eras.

I denied him my secrets. I denied access into the pieces the eras had created. I didn't want him to know about the scars I'd gained while he wasn't the leader.

He asked for a blanket when I was cold during my MRI.

Lost Era: 16 - 20 years old

This was a random era. Nothing was set in stone. No goal seemed within reach, even just getting through.

The leader didn't exist. There was nothing to lead. Life just passed by. School, friends, entertainment on and on without a plan. And even when it did gain a plan, the approach was haphazard.

I ran away from my secrets. I forgot they existed. When their whispers grew to shouts, I ignored the pain. I ignored them and so they controlled me.

It was the darkest era.

Purple Era: 20 years old

This era is open. It doesn't have many things written yet. The things it has are mostly bad.

The leader is me. I'm finally at the helm. I don't know how to grow up. I doubt I ever will achieve the level I had hoped for. I have confidence that this era will last for quite some time.

I'm slowly remembering my secrets. I'm facing them head on. They are just facts or thoughts. I am the person whose life depends on continuing the fight.

I couldn't ask for a blanket. I couldn't squeeze comfort into my hands. I did, however, prepare for the shot. I prepared for the potential anxiety attack. I prepared for the loneliness and longing. I cheered on and supported my physically and mentally weak state. I got through my MRI on my own.

P.S. I'm going to attempt blogging all week. I had my last day of work today and decided to write on the topic that's been on my mind since Friday.

Monday, July 4, 2016

Unique-ly in the Way?

I thought I finally knew who I was and how I fit in my world. However, I don't.

I'm pretty sure who I am. I don't change very much. Never have. And while I don't always know the right words to describe it all, I can feel the truth. But I don't fit where I had begun to suspect I did.

I try to help. Then, I find out that people don't see it like that. My help is denied or incorrect. My help actually spurs multiple new routes people have to take around me.

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I take personality and mental disorder quizzes in my spare time. My personality is locked and I like who I am. But how do other people process me? What does the test have to say about the way I think?

I have a high chance of bipolar - that makes sense considering my bipolar II diagnosis.

I have a high chance of food addiction/detachment - that makes sense considering I starve myself out of disinterest and disgust.

I have a high chance of depression - that makes sense considering my chronic depression diagnosis.

I have a high chance of PTSD - that makes sense considering my parents messy divorce and my mom's slow decay of 4 years.

I have a high chance of anxiety - that makes sense considering my generalized anxiety disorder.

I have a high chance of insomnia - that makes sense considering without medication I only sleep eventually and I wake up from anxiety nightmares tired every morning.

I have a high chance of social anxiety - that makes sense considering how much people scare me and my GAD.

I have a high chance of cell phone/Internet/TV addiction - that makes sense considering being without a screen or worse a connection have entered my nightmares.

I have a high chance of being suicidal - that makes sense considering how many suicidal ideations I have in a week.

I have a medium chance of autism spectrum disorder - that makes sense considering how much human interaction confuses and frustrates me.

I have a medium chance of every personality disorder there is - that makes sense considering I hate being with people, I dwell on myself all the time, and I do random things I don't even plan.

I have a medium chance of ADHD - that makes sense considering how many tabs my brain as open in any given moment but also considering how unwilling I am to move.

I have a medium chance of chocolate addiction - that makes sense considering I never forget about chocolate but sometimes I forget it interest me.

I have a medium chance of ED - that makes sense considering I have an unhealthy relationship with food, I dislike all thighs but had an affectionate acceptance of my body for 18.5 years until my hatred of food and chewing took the better of me.

I have a medium chance of depersonalization disorder - that makes sense considering how far away my body feels at times.

I have a low chance of BPD - that makes sense considering my bipolar II diagnosis. It's possible to have both but I most likely don't.

I have a low chance of anger - that makes sense considering I accept people's negative emotions as my fault and never theirs.

I have a low chance of psychopath & sociopath - that makes sense considering I believe there are 8 billion people higher than me, including possible unfeeling people.

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So why do I open a bunch of these stupid, unpredictable tests at 5 am and take them over the course of 3 weeks? Why do I rehash the results on a long blog entry starting at 23:30 - 1:00 am on a night have I haven't taken my sleep aid and need to up early for an intense day?

Because they remind me of what I already know. They remind me of the person I am and love, even when others make me doubt myself. While the list may make it seem like I have some incredible life ruining flaws, it highlights the ones I couldn't stomach having. What's a little depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, suicide when compared to psychopath, anger, depersonalization?

I don't fit nicely in my world. I never have. I've been in the way since I was less than 1 year old. I'll continue to upset the lives of people I love and my own.

But I know who I am. I know I'll get in the way in new and exciting ways. I know that I'll run away to fictional worlds because they don't question what makes me who I am and label it as wrong.

I don't mind being unsure of how my medical team will help with with all my needs. Being unsure if I want the help, especially when I'm not doing my best to assist their assistance. Being unable to face all the things I need to at once: my deep-seated fear of driving, my knee pains, my back spasms, my lack of excerise, my lack of appetite, my possible neurological problems that cause seizures at the random age of 20, my increasing depression, my increasing anxiety, and weakening control and mental strength. I don't mind any of those things.

I don't mind as long as I continue to be sure of who I am. Even if I dislike being unique, different, special, left out. Because those things don't matter as long as I can accept myself.

My unique-ly in the way self. I am after all a work of art.

P.S. this was a major rant and didn't really have a point at the beginning. I do feel much better though.

Sunday, January 3, 2016

Suicidal Ideation

I've been gone for three months. What have I to say? Not much.

I started sharing my feelings on here because I hoped that anyone who needed to read my blog would find it. But I never had a plan for what to share and when I did make one, I didn't stick to it. And I didn't do much to direct people here.

Now, I'm been sharing quotes, poems, and excerpts on Instagram. I've started reviewing shows on Tweezine. I've got quite a Pinterest following. I comment on YouTube videos and sometimes have conversations.

But this is where I get to be the most real. My thoughts don't get interrupted by others'. I can go into more detail without worrying about losing anyone.

I'll keep blogging. At the moment I'm not sure if I'll stick to a schedule but I know poems, chapters, memories, and definitions will continue to be posted.

---

Today's phrase: Suicidal Ideation

Proper definition
Medical News Today -  Suicidal thoughts, also known as suicidal ideation are thoughts about how to kill oneself, which can range from a detailed plan to a fleeting consideration and does not include the final act of killing oneself

Wikipedia - concerns thoughts about or an unusual preoccupation with suicide/death

Valleybehavioral.com - Suicidal ideation is broken down into two forms: active and passive. Active suicidal ideation involves an existing wish to die accompanied by a plan for how to carry out the death. Passive suicidal ideation involves a desire to die, but without a specific plan for carrying out the death

My comments - I fully understand the first.

The second confuses me only because of "unusual". Maybe it is because I've been around death a lot or it's because I suffer from Suicidal Ideation but it just really stands out to me. How would one measure an  "unusual" amount? I've been weirded out by how much some people I know talk about death. Is that a sign for me to worry about them?

The third definition is great. I think I operate life in a passive S.I. state but have moments through the day of active S.I.

In Real Life

I cannot speak for everyone who suffers from it. But I can share what it means for me.

Almost every bad moment leads to a thought of "wouldn't it be better if I was dead?" "If I was dead, I wouldn't feel anything. I wouldn't feel like this now." "If I was gone, I wouldn't have said, did the wrong thing. This person wouldn't feel this way."

Suicidal Ideation is never knowing when a bad moment will come but knowing that when it does, bad thoughts won't be far behind.

It's walking down stairs and thinking "if I miss one, just one little tumble or skip, I'll end up on the floor, possibly with bones twisted in interesting and exciting ways."

It's walking down the street and waiting to cross thinking "if I leap out now, would the car screech to a stop soon enough?"

It's sitting around the house and moving to pick something up. It's that little thought, "how pretty would my arms be, dripping red? Which way would the knive, scissors, razor swerve if I just let it drop and let gravity do the work?"

It's the little moments like missing a bus, losing your keys, not charging your phone that has you questioning everything. "Is there even a point? I'll do the same thing next week, or something worse tomorrow. Is there a reason to wait and see what kind of new terrible things I can just barely get through?"

It's knowing that even though these thoughts exist, even though your head is always a mess and making you sad to have to hear and visualize these painful things, you will never complete them.

It's wondering if surviving can really be considered being strong, as they say, or just cowardly. If taking the plunge is something you won't do simply because it inconveniences you, does it count? Wondering if such a reason not to is really reason enough. People have made it through because they don't want to die. But you? You've made it through because you can't be bothered to take the time.

It's knowing that's not healthy. That people would be sad to see you go. That people would become a little more lost and a little less whole. And yet, that not being enough for the thoughts to stop.

It's not knowing how to ask the questions "how are you feeling" "what's wrong" and "are you okay?" Because what are you supposed to say? "I'm fighting off thoughts of how to end myself." "I'm sad because I have these thoughts that don't benefit anyone." Or "I'm sorry, I'm not really here. I'm watching everyone say goodbye and seeing them attend what is the happiest day of my life. I guess, it's not really the happiest day of my life because I would have to be there, but it's not a great day for them all. Can I feel bad for them when I'm the one who caused the bad day?"

It's shaking off those questions as best you can. And not making anyone aware of the sadness in your head.

The thoughts are a part of who I am. A day going by without such things in my head has never existed. 20 years old and inching along, 13 years old when I wanted to live in multiple world's of fiction, 8 years old when my mom died, 5 years old when I still couldn't pronounce my own name and I was so ashamed, 3 years old when I would cut my hair for disappointing myself, bite my nails when I was anxious, eat paper when I felt empty. All these stages in my life have been met and passed with these thoughts by my side, so loyally.

The only way to survive is to accept them as they are, ignore them the best I can, and live life as fully as I want to in each given moment.

I don't know if there will be a day when I'm able to do all that "normal" people my age do. I don't know if I'll ever want the same things they want. But I will continue to age. I will make the thoughts go away as quickly as I can and never, ever act. Because that is the rest of who I am.

Poem:

On some days
Days like today
Days where I didn't want to fight
Days when I started to see light
Before darkness crept back in
Down into my soul, in the blood under my skin

On those terrible, dreaded days
This is what keeps me afloat
Because who do I want to transfer the pain to
To my beautiful baby cousins who know nothing of the world?
To my brother and aunt who tried to raise me as their own little girl?
To my sisters with whom I've fought this battle, we three who lived it all?
To my friends who know dark gray, not endless black but wish I wouldn't fall?

No
Struggle as I might
I will bear the pain
Because I don't want to go
Six feet under
With a smile on my face
While a part of everyone else
Breaks off and fades away

Thursday, October 22, 2015

ARFID

Mental Health Awareness week was 12 days ago.

It's been a month of mental health for me. I started blogging again. I've been writing quotes and short recounts of pain. I went to a forum yesterday called "Breaking the Silence." It was nice to hear stories from others and to hear the enthusiasm for gaining understa5fnding on mental health.

I have come to accept two more disorders. I still have to talk to my doctors but I can pretty safely say I have Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder and Nightmare Disorder.

I avoid eating. I tell myself I can eat later. I restrict the foods I eat. I have about 50 safe foods so I'm better off than most people with the disorder. I have foods I have trouble looking at, even think about. My throat will start closing up and I get anxious.

But I make myself get food when I can. I force myself to eat just a little more. I'm trying to figure out what foods I can always eat. 100% safe foods. My physician told me not to go under 120. I don't know what's going to happen if I do. Right now that's 1 pound away. A 1 pound buffer, if you will. Can I keep from losing that safety net?

I was really worried about my weight from 6-9 y/o. I was in the 60s for about 2.5 years. I was terrified I'd never gain weight. That I would look gross. That I wouldn't grow correctly. That I wouldn't be average height or weight. I was used to being average.

I remember going shopping with my mom. I would choose foods that looked good to me. She'd ask about things I usually ate and I'd say no.

One memory from 2nd grade haunts me.

Mom: Purple Owl, get your backpack and come to the dining room.

Purple Owl looks at her backpack and sighs. School, again.

Purple Owl: Here I am. Do I have to go?

Mom: Yes. Here's your lunch.

Purple Owl takes the bag and opens it. Ew, a sandwich, fruit, and juice box.

Purple Owl: I don't want this.

Mom: Purple Owl, you need to eat.

Purple Owl: But I can't eat this.

Mom: Do you have your lunch ticket?

Purple Owl nods.

Mom: You can take the lunch and then you'll have two choices.

Purple Owl: But what if I don't want either?

Sisters: Mom, we're ready.

Mom, packing her bag: Okay girls. We'll be right there. Purple Owl, you have to eat something. We talked about this. You want to gain weight. You promised you'd eat lunch everyday.

Purple Owl's eyes light up.

Purple Owl: I want a Slim Fast.

Mom: They’re for weight loss or management. It's for adults. You don't need it.

Purple Owl: You've let me have some before. And if the serving size is for adults, it's different for children.

Mom: You promise to drink it?

Purple Owl bobs her head up and down.

Purple Owl: Yes. It's yummy.

Mom: And you're not taking it just to be like me?

Purple Owl shakes her head and entire body.

Purple Owl: No. It makes me hungry but it's also filling. I want to drink it.

Mom: Okay you can take it. Put the lunch bag in the fridge. Maybe you'll have it as a snack.

Purple Owl opens the pantry and chooses a chocolate Slim Fast. She makes room for it in her school bag. Purple Owl puts the lunch in the fridge. She wrinkles her nose. Not eating that today.

She skips to the living room and joins her family.

The lunch lady asked me three times if that's all I had for lunch. I think she thought my mom was neglectful, forcing me to diet, or unaware of dietary needs. She didn't know that my mom just wanted me to eat something, anything. She didn't know that I fought for the Slim Fast.

As for Nightmare Disorder, I thought everyone had nightmares, especially children. I blamed it on an overactive imagination and any intense movie or story. I didn't know that 1 to 3 bad dreams a night was a problem. I didn't know that remembering dreams for years was odd.

I have about 6 recurring dreams that started at some point in childhood or adolescence. A few years will go by between them. And each time they come back, it's like I'm welcoming an old friend. As I squeeze myself into a ball and wrap up in my blankets, I feel slightly comforted recalling the details. At least my dreams always have my back. They always want to visit.

Is that a normal way to relax from nightmares? Well it's my way. And it's not like I can go talk to someone about my bad dream in the middle of the night. Talk about my fear of going back to bed. Talk about my fear of what my brain is going to think up next.

I know about these disorders now. I'll work to get more information on them. I'll work to understand what they mean for me. And I can work with my doctors and others to find ways to face them head on. And that's a better place than I was in before.

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Snapshot of Purple Owl - 9/28/15

1) I love myself the most. I hate myself the most.
2) I had two invisible identical sisters when I was under 13. I knew they weren't real and I only thought of them when I was bored. I invented "Pink" at 4 y/o. "Periwinkle" was created at 7 y/o because "Pink's" personality wasn't for me anymore. I gave up on them when I was 9 y/o and reading all the time. The only time we all interacted was when I remembered them at 13. I did a craft project with my mirror sisters and their input. I showed them my new room and my organization system. I disliked being the 5th child. I disliked being without a partner. But it was my first attempt at creating characters so they are a fond memory.
3) Disorders:
Chronic Depression
Insomnia
Generalized Anxiety, Panic and Social Anxiety
4) Self Diagnosed:
ARFID
Nightmare Disorder
Cireadian Rhythm Sleep-Wake Disorder (desired sleep times 2-5 am & 2-5 pm)
Separation Anxiety Disorder (I hate being away from people I've deemed "safe")
5) Poser, Rebel, Determined to be Different:
Names hurt. And I wish I knew how to be "common." ... Well, not really. But it would be easier.
6) I get attached to people, places, and objects incredibly too fast. (Give me all the nouns. Lol)
7) I'm still afraid of driving.
8) There's an employee at my local Jack in the Box (fave fast food) who knows I order chocolate sauce in my root beer float. And I don't know if that makes me ashamed or proud. For now, proud.
9) Strange habits:
Fries in milkshakes (common right?)
Hot cheetos in icing
Chips in yogurt
Meat/Tomato Sauce over Steamed Broccoli
Apple & Cashews (like a Candy Apple, yum)
I can't go anywhere without an undershirt.
I always put the heaviest bag on my left side.
10) Childish Habits:
Hot milk before bed
Two security blankets - 1 for home, 1 for public
New clothing becomes a comfort for weeks.
New outerwear becomes a security source for months.
11) I love watching adaptations and parodies to see how the writers adjust stories and scenarios to fit their needs.
12) I feel most comfortable with children.
13) I want to write for a living but I don't think I'll ever be confident enough for that. So for now, I want to work with children and write for myself.
14) I love music. My favorite songwriter is Martin Johnson. My favorite voices are Steve Perry, Arnel Pineda, Jon Bon Jovi, Adam Levine, Kim Jonghyun and Lee Jinki. I pretty much love every "boy band" from Beatles to Seventeen.
15) I believe that, no matter what, one's goal should be to make others' day better.
16) 9/27 & 9/29 are my least favorite days.
The 27th reminds me of what I haven't accomplished.
The 29th makes me paranoid that I won't accomplish anything in the coming year and be back to the 27th.
17) Therefore, I determine that it doesn't matter how I feel waking up on the 28th, I will be happy with myself by the end of the day. I spend the day doing as much as I can, of what I need to and want to do. I force myself to think positively all day.
18) This is my last year as a late adolescent.
19) I dislike getting close to people. When I feel our relationship becoming stronger, I get scared. I'm afraid that I won't be someone they want. That my people will dislike who I really am. And that they'll all change their minds.
20) I hate myself the most. I love myself the most.

*21. This year reinforced my belief that the hardest and best thing is to be yourself. It was difficult to see myself through the disorders, medication, injuries, and obstacles. But I did. The most clearly I saw was 9/27 & 9/28. 19 year old Purple Owl, you were beautiful, inside and out. Let's see where my 21st year takes me.

Thursday, June 4, 2015

School

I was thinking about elementary school today.

We used to play games that only required our body. We'd chase each other. We would be monsters and jumps out at each other. We played hand games and even made up some of our own.

It's funny what used to entertain me at a young age. I want to say that I matured. That it requires more complex things to engage me now. However, I think I'm worse off for it.

Children can create things to do. They use their imagination and figure out how to make it work. I wish I still had that ability.

I guess that's why I like working with children. I get to see them use their minds. It also teaches me how to have that mind again.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Throw Back Thursday

I've always been conflicted about school. I love learning and being around peers. But I was stressed about being assessed by teachers and tests. I was also stressed about my classmates and their problems.

I missed a lot of school because stress made me sick. I went to work and college classes with my adult family. Just to avoid school.

TBT:
I remember one time my oldest brother was going to take my sisters and I to school. I locked the door to my bedroom and put my hands behind me on the rungs of my bed. I figure if he couldn't get me, I wouldn't go to school. I don't remember what was that day's pain but he wasn't buying any aches. I don't know why I didn't want to go. And I felt bad for disobeying. But I couldn't see another way.

My brother took off the door knob. I begged him to let me stay home or go with him. But he said no to both. With our 17 year difference, it wasn't that hard for him to pick me up. I went to school. And just sat. I wasn't able to stay away from school but I could mentally remove myself.

Now that I'm older I realize how terrifying it would be to have an elementary student lock themselves in   room. Especially when they're clearly distraught.

I think I still do that sometimes. I get ill from stress. That's a fact. But sometimes I convince myself that I'm worse than I am. If I don't want to go somewhere, suddenly I'm broken. It's like I've mentally locked a door and wrapped my arms around a pillar. And then if I do get myself out, I'm not really there. When I'm shy, I talk too much. When I'm anxious, I don't talk at all.

But I know this now. I understand it more. And that's the first step to improvement.

P.S. I wrote 25,135 words for April Camp NaNoWriMo. It wasn't my first goal but my secondary goal was 25,000. So even if I could change it and win on the website, I'm considering myself a camp veteran now. I can't wait until the next camp

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Speak...Now!!!

Oh tell me, tell me
Why it seems
Things that happen
Aren’t taken seriously

Talking is what goes on
No communication at all
Explaining again and again
Never understanding

Say something to me
How should I reply
Or is it really important
You’ll roll right over it

Listening is good
Using your ears is grand
So why does no one do so
Why can’t it be had

When will I be heard
Do I have to scream
Will it matter when it’s worse
How bad until you see

I can’t talk
And so I lose
Lose my trust, my truth
Lose my everything, lose you

Old poem: I want to say 1.5 years ago but it might have been longer.

I've figure out how to talk. I can say at least half of what I mean now. It isn't always enough. But it's more than before. And people are more understanding and wait for the other half.

Hopefully, I won't lose my truth. Or my people.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Jay Jain's Heart

I see you in my mind
Feel you in my heart
Know that I need you
Fully and in part
Really though
I don't know where to start

All that you do for me
Is too much to explain
Thing that makes me happy
Person who keeps me sane
You make me mad and sad
But mainly you wipe away my pain

You may not know it
But I need you all days
Everything you do
All of your wonderful ways
My love for you shows
My affection plays

When I talk to you
My mind never blanks
Always having fun
Always pulling pranks
All I wanted to say
Was thanks

- CoJa Brown

I wrote this in 2008. I was 13. This was the first poem that I thought was actually good. I guess this would be considered a milestone in my writing ability.

It reminds me of a 13 year old. The message is simple and to the point. It's lighthearted and youthful.

When I read it, I think of the boy I was in love with. And how much I wished I could have just told him this. But I'm not good at sharing my feelings in real life. So I wrote it down and tucked it away. And now it makes me nostalgic for those days.

Not that I want to be 13 again. But I want that breezy emotion of first love. I want the beautiful feeling that comes from being in love without thinking of anything real. Just being who you are. And knowing that the other person accepts you fully.

Monday, April 20, 2015

Journey

I've been a fan of Journey since 2009's Live in Manila. I knew the popular songs all my life. But I randomly decided to tape Live in Manila. And then I'd play it 2-3 times a week while doing homework. Sometimes, I watch the entire three hours (with commercials) and restart it. For months. I think my family got sick of it.

My dad took me to see Tron: Legacy in 2010. And what I remember most about that night is when Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) came on. We look at each other and started whispering the words. After the movie, he said he didn't know I was a Journey fan. I explained that I was a part-time fan but that SWWA was my current favorite.

I was so sad when we got a new cable box and Live in Manila was taken away from me. But I recently found it on YouTube so I'll be okay.

Music Monday inspired me to look into them more. I decided to listen to Journey's entire discography. I started Monday 6th and finished today. (I may have listened to some other music in between).

So this is what the last two weeks have taught me: I LOVE Journey!!!

I don't care what the lineup is. I don't care if a song doesn't have that "Journey" feel.

I grew up hearing the Steve Perry fronted Journey. But the Journey I rediscovered at 14 was fronted by Arnel Pineda. And to me, that's still Journey.

I like that they've had so many lineup changes. It shows how important this is to them. And that they can carry on despite losing members.

And when a song has a different feel, it feels like they're letting us in on another side of them. It's always a bit of a surprise in the pace of the music.

So quick review of each album. I won't use music terms because I can't remember them nor will I use them correctly. I'm leaving out compilation and greatest hits albums.

Journey (Self-titled Debut) - I liked that the focus was on the instruments. Seems like a soundtrack to a dream. Or maybe it's been in my dreams lately.
Favorites - In the Morning Day, In My Lonely Feeling/Conversations, Mystery Mountain

Look into the Future - This album makes me want to dance. It has songs that make me move before I even know it. It's a great album to clean to.
Favorites- On A Saturday Nite, Anyway, I'm Gonna Leave You
       Also, "Carry on Wayward Son" by Kansas has been in my head all week. I only just found out that some think "I'm Gonna Leave You" inspired the main riff. (Used the term because the article says it.)

Next - I don't know if the sound was becoming more solid or if I was just growing with them. But this is the first album I connected with the first time I listened to it. The album was really easy to listen to and focus on the instruments and the vocals.
Favorites - Spaceman, People, Next, Nickel and Dime

Infinity - I love this album! I love how "Feeling That Way" is the perfect song to set up "Anytime". It takes me a moment to get into "Can Do" but it's worth the time.
Favorites - Lights, Anytime, Lă Do Dā, Wheel in the Sky, Can Do

Evolution - This album makes me want to sing. Which is what Journey has always meant to me. This album is the warmest to me, so far. It's like they are playing and singing just for the one listener, whoever they are.
Favorites - Too Late; Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'; City of Angels; Lovin' You Is Easy

Departure - "Any Way You Want It" is pretty much the coolest intro to an album ever! I love the repetition in a few of the songs. It makes it fun to sing along.
Favorites - Any Way You Want It, Someday Soon, People and Places, Where Were You, Stay Awhile

Dream, After Dream - While it has cool sounds, it doesn't really hold my attention. Which was disappointing given that it's a soundtrack to a Japanese movie.
Favorites - Sandcastles, When the Love has Gone

Captured - It's a live album with one new song. But I love it because Steve Perry talking is adorable.
Favorites - The Party's Over (Hopelessly in Love)

Escape - I'm not sure what to say about this album. It holds the largest amount of Journey songs I heard growing up. It's my Journey album, I guess. I like the other songs but my favorites hold my heart.
Favorites - Don't Stop Believin'; Stone in Love; Keep on Runnin'; Still They Ride; Escape; Mother, Father; Open Arms

Frontiers - The first half of the album has my favorite love songs. "SWWA" loyalty. "SHML" care sent through a messenger. "Faithfully" commitment in spite of distance. So much love. The second half of the album has a great sound.
Favorites - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart), Send Her My Love, Faithfully

Raised on Radio - After all that love, this album is a little more sad. But I like that the message is perseverance and eventual success. (You can make it through pain)
Favorites - Be Good to Yourself, Once You Love Somebody, Raised on Radio, I'll Be Alright Without You, It Could Have Been You

Trail by Fire - This album surprised me. It has a different feel to it. Not quite Journey but not far from it. The music is very pretty. And then there was the out of this world "Castle Burning".
Favorites - When You Love A Woman, If He Should Break Your Heart, Castle Burning, Still She Cries, Easy to Fall

Arrival - This album didn't pull me in. My brain was probably getting tired of one group at this point. (I've never listened to mainly one group for this long.) I'll have to come back to it in a month.
Favorites - To Be Alive Again

Red 13 - I liked it. It was a little slower, calmer. I'm not going to choose favorites because it had 4 songs.

Generations - This is my Steve Augeri album. From the first song to the last, it flows beautiful. I didn't want it to end
Favorites - Faith in the Heartland, The Place in Your Heart, Butterfly (She Flies Alone), Knowing That You Love Me, In Self-Defense, Beyond the Clouds, Never Too Late

Revelation - Welcome Arnel Pineda. This album feels like an homage to all the past Journey albums. It feels like the group is fondly looking back and then eagerly looking forward to what will come.
Favorites - Never Walk Away, Change For the Better, Wildest Dream, After All These Years, What I needed, What It Takes to Win, Turn Down the World Tonight

Eclipse - This album has some of the coolest songs ever! I had to keep myself listing all the songs. But I still listed most of them.
Favorites - Someone, She's a Mystery, Human Feel, Edge of the Moment, Chain of Love, Anything is Possible, City of Hope, To Whom It May Concern

SIDE POINT: Neal Schon is the last original member. He's been there since the beginning. Would he be considered the backbone of Journey?

Well, that was fun. I look forward to hearing more from Journey. In the meantime, I'll keep listening to their "old" music. (She says ironically)

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Sleep

The Schedule

~~~~~~~
Sunday - My Writing
Monday - Music
Tuesday - Poetry
Wednesday - Word or Woman
Thursday - Throw Back
Friday - Media
Saturday - Book Club
~~~~~~~

Any given day can be a musing day.

Today, or rather tonight, is for musing.

I hate sleeping.

I have to negotiate with myself to go to sleep. I know all that's waiting for me is my dreams. My subconscious isn't nice to me. I have anxiety dreams that are set to my real life. They make me anxious around the people who were in them.

I have peaceful dreams that show my life the way I want it. It's depressing to wake up from those dreams. And I have nightmares that are always life or death. I have to watch as my loved ones run for their lives. And sometimes the dreams are so real I feel the emotions when I wake up. They don’t settle until I see the person.

Even though this is what sleep means to me, I still can't wake up. I lay in bed for half an hour to 2 hours telling myself why to get up. Telling myself that the pain that has settled into my bones isn't that bad. That life isn't that bad and I should go live it with the people I love. But I've found that most days my arguments don't matter. By the time I've convinced myself, everything and everyone has moved on.

Oh, how I hate sleeping!

It's 1 am and once again I'm lying in bed with all this noise and silence.
It’s 1 am and the world is paused except for me.
Why should I try to sleep?
Why should I wait until the nagging voice stops and the real nightmares begin?
Because I have responsibilities and appointments.
Because I'm ridiculed for complaining about lack of sleep when I "don't try hard enough."
But does it really matter when I fall asleep?
But will my body let me wake up when I want to?

"I'm a spoiled princess who detest existing. Isn't that a bit too selfish?
I will never become what's expect of me. I should push myself to do more.
Does anyone really need me around? They seem like they don't.
Yelling at myself is useless. I never listen."

How am I supposed to like sleep when the voice is so loud!!!

P.S. Sorry! Lack of sleep makes me cranky.

Friday, March 13, 2015

The Final Verdict

It's been 3 weeks since I last blogged. Honestly, I've been avoiding it. I've been wrapped in my head, telling myself all the things I do wrong.

In "2015 Purple Owl" I wrote a list of things I'm supposed to do at my age but haven't been able to accomplish. So far, I've made quite a dent in that list.

I've: started school, gone out more weekends, and have been getting experience in my chosen field.

However, I'm not happier for reaching these so called requirements. I'm still being pressured to do more. To get my license. To help around the house more.

It's not that I like avoiding these things. It's that these things scare me. Stress me out and make it hard to sleep. I rarely dream anymore without hearing some piece of advice. In my sleep!!!

And it makes me feel like the most horrible person on the planet.

The Charges: Major Flaws

Guilt makes me small
I hate that I was born
Ruined my family's lives
And many, many more

Guilt makes me mean
To the boy I like
Can't make myself happy
Let alone help him to be

Guilt makes me weak
It pressed down on me
I don't want to go on
And on anymore

Guilt makes me strong
It pushes me onward
For all the suffering
How can I alone escape

So is it good or bad
What is the sentence
Am I wrong
Or am I guilty?

- CoJa Brown

I'm not guilty! I don't have to live in guilt anymore. To be motivated by guilt is painful and misleading. It's wrong to lock myself away and lie to other people.

The Sentence: Personal Acceptance

I'm not sure exactly who I am
Does that make me an idiot
There's got to be a way
To find myself

I am lost inside the world
Life feels like it finds you
Not the other way around
I chose not to be molded

When I'm by myself
I'm a little more real and sound
Now I have to figure out
How much of it is true

I need to accept her
I have to show her to the world
Because there's nothing wrong
With her, with me

If I believe that
I will be happy and strong
I will be me
Different will go on

- CoJa Brown

I guess it's okay not to know who you are, especially as a teenanger. I've just been so sure of myself for 18 years that it's upsetting to be otherwise. I just know I'm not who everyone's telling me to be.

So now, I get to find myself. And you get to come with me. I'll put up the blog topic schedule Monday. Tune in for more!!!


P.S. Double dose of poetry because of my unannounced haitus. I don't plan on being gone that long ever again!

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Painful Memory, Useful Memory

So I was telling my therapist about my panic attacks the other day. She asked me when I had my first panic attack. That took me a moment because most of my childhood memories are laced with unease.

The first panic attack I remember having was at age 7.

Characters
Purple Owl (age 7)
Mom
Aunt
Office lady
Teacher
Classmates

Mom: We have to go.

Purple Owl: I can't leave. I haven't finished my project.

Aunt: You have to go to school and we have to go.

Purple Owl looks at the table and down at the floor.

Purple Owl: But my project's due. And I can't present it if it's not finished.

Aunt: Do you think...

Purple Owl looks back at the adults.

Mom: We do have some time. Purple Owl, let's finish your project.

Purple Owl jumps into her seat. She picks up the materials to work on her project. Aunt pours a cup of coffee. And Mom reads while helping Purple Owl.

Purple Owl: I'm done.

Mom: Great. Let's go.

Purple Owl takes her sweater from Mom and freezes.

Aunt (from the open front door): Purple Owl, what's wrong?

Purple Owl: I'm late. I can't go to school. I'm late.

Mom: You have to go to school. Now that your projects done, don't you want to show your teacher and friends?

Purple Owl: No. I'm late. I don't want to go. Can't I just spend the day with you?

Mom: No, Purple Owl. You have to go to school today. Your project looks nice. You'll get a good grade.

Purple Owl looks down.

Aunt: We have to go, Purple Owl.

Purple Owl: Okay.

She follows the adults out of the apartment and to the car. She gets into the backseat and stares out the window.

School is going to be terrible.

Mom: Purple Owl, we're there. Are all your things collected?

Purple Owl: Yes, mommy.

The adults look at each other.

Purple Owl stares at her school.

Aunt: Purple Owl, you have to get out dear.

Purple Owl: But...

Mom: You've missed too many days. I can't take you with me. And you have your project.

Purple Owl sighs and closes her eyes.

(Beat)

Aunt: Purple Owl?

Purple Owl: I'm going. Just a moment.

Purple Owl eases the door open. She picks up her backpack and lunch bag. She climbs out and leans over to get her project.

Mom: Have a good day, Purple Owl.

Purple Owl: You too, Mommy. Bye, Aunt.

Purple Owl walks to the office. She waves to her mom in the passenger seat. She pulls open the office door and hears the car drive off.

Office Lady: Hi.

Purple Owl: Good morning. Purple Owl, room 15.

Office Lady looks through the files. She writes on the card and hands it to Purple Owl.

Office Lady: Make sure to give this to your teacher.

She opens the gate for Purple Owl.

Purple Owl: I will. Have a good day.

Purple Owl puts the attendance sheet on her project and opens the door. Down the ramp and across the yard.

She passes the restroom. Then stops.

Purple Owl: Hmmm, I could use the bathroom. I don't need to. But maybe I should.

She takes two steps back and enters the restroom.

She sits down and puts her project next to her. Purple Owl leans her head back and takes a breath.

She's late. If she goes in, everyone will stare at her. The teacher will ask what happened. She'll disrupt the class and ruin everything.

Purple Owl lets out her breath. Her eyes widen and her fingers shake.

Ow!!!!!

She stares at her chest, confused about the pain.

She looks back at her project and sees the attendance sheet. Purple Owl picks it up and follows her name. Purple Owl... 8:45.

It’s been a few minutes. The restroom is a good enough excuse.

She closes her eyes again and tries to breathe. It's painful and difficult. The air won't go through. But she tries to breathe.

She looks at her project again and smiles warily. She worked hard on it. She should turn it in with pride.

But she can't. She can’t go to class. Her heart races and she stares at the bathroom wall.

Purple Owl pushes herself off the wall. She walks to the sink. She turns it on and wets paper towels. She wipes down her face and stares in the mirror.

Purple Owl: I can do this. It's just the door, teacher, and then my seat. Everyone in the class is my friend. They aren't scary.

She raises her eyebrows. Purple Owl in the mirror questions everything she said.

Purple Owl: I have to go. It will only get worse the longer I stay.

Purple Owl in mirror looks defiant. After a few moments, Purple Owl sticks her tongue out at her reflection and shrugs. She's not the one in charge.

She puts her backpack back on. She picks up her project and walks to the door. Purple Owl looks at the bathroom and shakes her head.

Purple Owl: Someone will find me if I stay here. I have the attendance sheet. I have to go.

She starts the walk to class. It seems so long. Her legs feel heavy. She gets to the door and takes a deep breath.

Purple Owl: Here it goes.

She opens the door. And as expected, her classmates and teacher turn to look. She walks up the aisle to her teacher. She hands her the sheet.

Purple Owl: I'm sorry I'm late.

Teacher looks at the clock.

Teacher: The attendance says you came 20 minutes ago. What happened?

Purple Owl: I was in the bathroom.

Teacher: For 20 minutes?

She nods.

Teacher: Okay. I'm glad to see your project. You'll present just before recess. Have a seat, Purple Owl.

Purple Owl goes to her seat and her guy best friend smiles at her.

Classmate: Why are you so late? Might as well not have come. I mean you never do anyway.

Guy Friend: Leave her alone.

The classmate huffs and looks away.

Purple Owl stares at her friend. Usually she's the one standing up for him.

Purple Owl: Thanks.

Guy Friend: You're welcome. You do it for me.

He looks at her.

Guy Friend: Are you okay, Purple Owl?

Purple Owl nods.

(Beat)

Guy Friend: Are you sure?

Teacher: No talking.

Guy Friend: Sorry.

He glances at Purple Owl and then looks at the student presenting.

Purple Owl feels a nudge. She looks up to the class and teacher staring at her. Guess it's her turn. She walks up and gives her presentation.

The bell rings as she finishes. She walks to the back of the room in a daze.

Her two best friends wait for her.

Girl friend: Are you okay?

Purple Owl nods.

Guy friend: For sure?

Purple Owl sighs. Her pain is gone. She can breathe. Purple Owl smiles.

Purple Owl: Yes, for sure. Let's go eat our snack so we can play.

Her friends follow her out.

Purple Owl talks to her friends while she eats. She laughs while she plays. And listens closely to the rest of class.

I filled out the conversations a bit. But the framework was the same. My first panic attack is burned into my memory. I wish I couldn't see Purple Owl falling apart in her elementary bathroom.

But I can. And it gives me understanding of the panic attacks I've had since. At 7, I didn't even know that phrase. But now it gives me relief. Relief to know I'm not alone or strange.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

In Loving Memory

In loving memory. I feel strange applying those words to my mom. I loved her as a mother but not a friend. I remember her as a friend, not a mother. It's all mixed up and I don't know if loving memory applies.

I know I love my mother. Everyone loves their mother. She gave birth to me. She raised me. And she loved me. It's only natural to love her as a mother. But she was an amazing woman. She should have been more than my mother. She should have become an adult friend.

I remember her as a friend because she talked to me like one. She reasoned with me. She counseled me. And never once talked down to me. But I wish that we had fights. Not at 8. But I wish we had time for teenage Purple Owl to fight with her mom.

I guess I also feel bad because I don't remember her. I remember my life with moments of her. As I try to tell someone who she was, I spin off into a story about me. I guess that makes sense. One, children are usually self-centered when telling stories. Two, people see the world from their point of view. I have stories that star Purple Owl because she's what I see.

I get so wrapped up in the mothers I see in media. I read and watch TV. I think that's the way it should be. I feel like we missed out on something. That makes me feel sad for us both. And I feel guilty about my lack of memories. But I do remember my mother, my friend.

How much more could a mother ask anyway? A child who may not remember you well but remembers your touch. Remembers your touch, physically and mentally. Who in part owes who they are to you. A child who had their own life outside of you but is thankful to have had you. Who knew what they had while they had it. A daughter who has no bitter memories of her mother.

In loving memory, Purple Owl's mother, mom, 엄마, 어머니.


P.S. This is basically what I think each December and January. These thoughts of guilt and regret are the reason I get more depressed than usual. But this is the last year I'll do that. In the future, I'll be sad about the fact that mom died in January. But I'll remind myself that we didn't miss out on too much. And the way she added to my life, without dominating it, shows the woman and mother she was.