Home Is Where the Heart Is

I stopped blogging because...well because things seemed alright for awhile. But I need to come back. I need some place to be real. To sort. To organize thoughts. To ask questions.

I couldn't really put it into words until I got here. I left my home because of one particular event that happened. I told everyone I was leaving because of adventure and because I felt stuck and blah blah and those reasons are all TRUE but they were all sub-reasons. I was leaving because of one event that happened at the end of college and I felt as though if I didn’t move I would die. So I moved! And I’m alive! Yay!

And it was truly the best decision ever made aside from following Christ. I have changed immensely since being here, discovered new things, grown, developed, stretched, seen new things, experienced things...and I have never regretted it for one second. I love this city, everything about it! I love my roommate. I love my apartment. I love more things here than I could even list!

Yet the month of October has brought a wave of mental illness and serious life doubts along with it. With all the things I love, I am completely unhappy with two major life things. Also, for two months now I have wanted to go home every single night. (Which is a big deal because I didn’t feel homesick even one time for a solid year after moving here.) I am confused and often wonder if my homesickness is not actual homesickness at all but rather just a result of my extreme displeasure in the two major life areas.

First, there is my church. I have never felt so a part of something and yet so alone at the same time. I long for community. I long for relationships. I long for connection, sharing, friendships, conversation. I feel I have very very little of any of those things at my church. I have been there for over a year and yet every week I feel “on the outside looking in.” After two months of deliberation, and talking it over and over with my mother and roommate, I have decided to try to approach the head of the church and talk it over. I’m afraid. I’m afraid they will ask me to step down from being a team leader. I’m afraid they will ask me to leave the church. I’m very afraid that they might act or speak in ways during the conversation that will make me WANT to leave. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay.

But flipping through my journals tonight revealed something incredible to me–I’ve felt this way about my church longer than two months. I thought these were new feelings but my journal revealed I have been feeling them for eight months and not accepting that maybe I should try to do something different. But I am afraid to leave. I am afraid of hurt feelings. I am afraid of tension, awkwardness, fights, bitterness. More than anything in the universe, I am afraid of that bad event that happened in college happening again. And then I'll really have to move again! Is that what my life is? Causing one bad event and then the next and moving to get away? What happens when I run out of states?

I am afraid of being hurt. Honestly, there is no way I could leave without hurting them or being hurt. And despite the ways I feel so unhappy, this is the only church I've been to for my time here and I would miss even the miserable feelings so much. I am afraid there is nothing better. I’ve been to other churches, I’ve seen what they are like. All big and showy and flashy and “relevant.” I don’t want a church like that. I don’t want lights and a stage, I don’t want a show, I don’t want theatre. I just want REAL people. My church has REAL people, it’s just that they REALLY don’t connect with me.

Second life thing I don't like is my job. I love the job I do and the money I make. I loathe my boss. Sounds like not a big deal, but the type of job I have is one that I work constantly with my boss. You could say I am her “assistant.” And it’s not just that I don’t like the way she says things sometimes...no, no...this lady is certifiably CRAZY. She is emotionally and verbally abusive to everyone around her. She lies, cheats, steals, and tricks others into situations to make them look bad. She rejoices when others make mistakes. She never accepts blame, never admits to being wrong, and loves to create drama anytime she sees an opportunity. She is a PSYCHOPATH. There have been countless people work with her before me and no one has stayed very long. Of course I didn’t know that until after I took the job.

This is a much easier problem to fix because I WANT TO LEAVE! The only problem is, I feel as though homesickness is winning out and I keep thinking if I can make it with her a few more weeks then I can gather enough paychecks to get out of here. I also am keenly aware of the fact that despite my fancy diploma, jobs are ridiculously hard to find with as little experience as I have. I searched for the job I have now for over three months. So it’s back to the drawing boards as far as a job goes but until something else comes along, I have to be stuck in misery with crazy lady who makes me pray I get in a car accident on the way to work so I don't have to go in that day.

My heart has not been here this month. My heart is at home. But I have a major responsibility here to my roommate and I cannot just up and leave her until our lease expires which is 9 ½ months away! That is too long to be stuck in misery. I won't make it. Something has got to give and fast.

I have so many questions and no one to discuss them with. There were A LOT of reasons I left home. What if I happen to find someone to room with my roommate and I hop on a plane and one month or two months down the road I remember why I left? What if I start to feel suffocated again? I can’t come back! I can’t go back and forth! What if the reason I left home in the first place, that event I was trying to get over, what if I’m not over it? What if when I go back it starts to hurt again? What if there are no better churches and no better jobs at home?

But the biggest question is...if I found a church that I clicked with, one in which I could have family and friends and community and a place to grow spiritually, and IF I could somehow find another job...would I still want to leave here?

But night like tonight I feel like I can’t stay here a moment longer no matter what job or church came along...

The Death of Goo

I thought I could run away from unhealthiness. I thought I could merely weed through my possessions, pack only the deemed "healthy" things in my car and leave everything unhealthy 794 miles away. I thought unhealthiness surely could not get on the highway and follow me...

The thing is though, that unhealthiness is not embodied in one relationship or in one situation. I cannot simply leave an unhealthy relationship and become healthy. Unhealthiness is in my blood, in my brain, in my life. I cannot run away from it. It is in every interaction I have with others. It is in the way I talk to them, perceive them, and the way I talk to myself, perceive myself and tell myself how I "should" interact with others. It is in my habits and beliefs. It has been with me since I was born. Probably even before that.

Everything always seems fine at first. I start over. New people. New relationships. I think I'm sailing smooth. Then, ever so slowly unhealthiness creeps in. It is very slow. So slow that I never notice it. If it would just go BAM and attack suddenly, I think I could fight it off. But it's not like that. It's a creepy green goo that oozes into little cracks and pores that I leave open. It is so minuscule that I don't even notice. I continue on with what I am doing and then one day I turn around and I suddenly realize…Crap! I'm unhealthy again! There's green ooze covering EVERYTHING. It's EVERYWHERE. 

It goops up my whole brain so I cannot think clearly. It drips down and gets in my eyes - it's blinding. Suddenly my eyelids feel crusted shut like I have pink eye. It pools so heavy and thick on my chest that I cannot breathe, it feels like an elephant is standing on my sternum. It crawls all over my fingers - so sticky I cannot even open the door to get to a sink to wash my hands. It super glues my feet to the the floor. It embodies me. It engulfs me. Swallows me whole. 

And then I am lost in a black, dark pit of despair and I cannot find a way out. It happens time after time after time after time after time…and I guess I thought if I moved, it would not happen anymore. I thought if I left everyone who knew me and I started with new people who didn't even know I was unhealthy…then I thought I could hide it. I thought maybe green goo wouldn't show up in different lighting. I thought these new people would not even notice it and therefore I would not even notice it either and then it would simply disappear!

But it doesn't work like that. Apparently.

So what is this snot-like goo of unhealthiness? It's difficult to say, really. It manifests itself in so many different ways.

Sometimes it's sleepless nights full of unrealistic anxieties, and other times it's ruthless nightmares that leave me in cold sweats. It is depression; unreasonable suicidal thoughts; it is hateful, despising and down-right abusive self-talk. It is washing a hand towel after using it one time, and being throughly convinced every single night that dust or bugs got on my sheets during the day so I must change them before I can lie down. It's telling friends they don't like me and forcing them to fulfill my self-fulfilling prophesies of leaving me abandoned.

It is a vicious cycle in a downward spiral.

At it's core, this goo is merely a substance of something that interferes in my every day life.

At home when this gooyness would engulf me, I found myself over-indulging in relationships, staying busy from the second I woke up literally until the second I crashed in bed. I would constantly have something to do, someone to be with, some project to absorb all of my energy. I think most people would think this was a "good idea" but in many ways it proved to be a bad thing, as evidenced by the ruined friendships and the fact that when I moved here I could not stand to have a quiet moment without some distraction from my brain.

Oddly enough, here as this small spout of unhealthiness surfaces, I have found myself equally distracting my brain but in a new way. I have withdrawn from many people around me and engaged in books, cleaning and organizing. It's still the same concept: remaining busy enough to not think about the goo.

I am tired of being distracted. I am tired of feeling unhealthy. I think living the majority of my life "distracted" is a horrific tragedy. I think living a life of avoiding, adds more things to avoid. (*Side note: Don't take my words to the other end of the spectrum. I am by no means suggesting that it is healthy or beneficial to "sit around and mope" or to constantly think about things that make you sad. I am all for getting out of the house and turning on happy music even if you don't "feel" happy.)

The truth is, goo is inevitable in life. Everyone is a little bit unhealthy. Everyone has at least one unhealthy pattern, belief, habit, mindset, at some point. But how can one deal with an unhealthy problem when they are drowning in 7,000 foot deep pit of unhealthy goop!?

Any new, small goo added on to my life seems unreasonably unbearable because it adds on to what is already there. And by now that tower of problems, struggles, unhealthy habits, fears - it is all so high I cannot even see the top. It is such a large force I don't even know which situation caused which or how to untangle them.

I ran away here so I did not have to run away any longer. I am distanced here so I do not have to be distracted any longer. And I have a plan!!

So I introduce to you, dear nonexistent readers, my first big adventure of 2014:

It's called "Purposefully-Gooping-Unhealthy-Goo-All-Over-Everything-And-Constantly-Thinking-About-It-And-Facing-It-Every-Single-Day-And-Not-Allowing-Myself-To-Be-Distracted-From-It." 

I call it my "PGUGAOEACTAIAFIESDANAMTBDFI" Plan for short.

In understandable English, what this plan really means is that I am going to write. I have long known that I am a writer for I write constantly even if just in my head. I am going to write down everything that happened. Everything. Everything that I have ever tried to be distracted from, from the moment I was three years old. Every thing that I ever thought was my fault, everything that I felt ashamed of, everything that I was too afraid to talk about, and every unhealthy thing that ever existed. And I am even going to talk about Februarys. Which is a big deal because I hate to talk about Februarys. 

It's sheer stupidity I tell you - to run from green goo your whole entire life and then - when running full force to stop dead in your tracks, turn around, look it square in the eye and say "COVER ME DAMMIT! COVER ME AND BRING ME EVERYTHING YOU'VE GOT! I AM NOT RUNNING ANYMORE! GOOP ME UP!!"

It's going to be hard, I know that. But I know that layer by layer I can completely demolish this goo. I know I am going to feel like I am suffocating. I know there are sleepless nights ahead for me, while I stay up wrestling with this sticky, poisonous goo. I know I am going to call into question every event, feel ashamed all over again, feel like all these things could have been avoided if I were just different or better or not so me-like! I know it is going to be a bumpy ride. But I also know that when I am done writing, I won't feel ashamed any more. I know that when I am done, I can forgive myself and the others that hurt me.

I am not saying when I complete this writing, that ten years down the road I won't have a sleepless night full of unrealistic anxieties. I think I, along with many other members of my family, struggle with mental illness and I don't think that is something I can simply shrug away. But I do think I can fight it so much that I can get to a place where even my most unhealthy days are ten times healthier than what they used to be.


Here's to a big (and Messy) adventure!

Different(ly) #2

I kept saying I wanted to move here because I wanted things to be different. And guess what? They are! But life is a fickle thing and things are different in a way I hadn't expected before.

Adventure I wanted...and adventure did I get! But adventure doesn't always look the way we want it too. When we think of adventure, I think we mostly think of the after part. We think of Bell after she married the Beast, of Ariel after she got her voice back. We think about the stories we can tell after the hike up the mountain or the three flat tires in one day. But we forget about the actual going through the adventure part - Bell feeling lonely in the castle, Ariel missing her father and realizing she made a mistake, the bugs and the heat and the burning muscles while you are hiking or changing those tires.

I'm in the midst of the adventure right now and I know there will be wonderful stories to tell someday but the middle part of it...is well...different than I thought.

Where do I even begin?

These past two weeks have been extremely full with plans with people almost every night of the week. I have new friends to eat with, church small groups, meetings at work, even a date! I have had conversations with new friends that felt like they were old friends and I have recently been able to feel connected here in ways I haven't since I was in college. I am so happy and it's not that I don't miss my old friends anymore because I do, it's just that my heart doesn't necessarily ache for them in the way that it normally does. I don't feel the powerful urge to jump in the car and go see them and that is a very different and refreshing feeling.

It's a strange paradox though, because the more I feel connected to people here, the less I felt connected to people at home. I still wanted to call them or Skype with them but I haven't had the time and then this weekend when I have tried to get caught up - they all seem too busy in their own lives as well.

I'm thankful to be connected here but I feel almost stuck in the middle - like I have friends at home and friends here but neither one are super close since old ones are fading and the new ones are still new. I want to stay extremely connected in both places which takes a lot of energy and is something I cannot do on my own. I'm beginning to see some friends not want to make the effort to stay as connected as I'd like and it hurts.

I know full well that I haven't been 100% honest in why I moved here. I know I truly moved here because in my heart of hearts I knew I had to get away and let go of some things I never could have let go of back home. I know that and I am proud of myself for trying to move on, but I'm not completely ready to just let go just yet.

I do realize that at some point, there will come a time when I must stop sharing every little detail with my friends about my daily life and they will stop sharing every little detail with me. Soon we will begin sharing only broader details about our weeks, our months and a little later it becomes an even larger gap where we only speak a few times a year or even just every few years and we send each other Christmas cards and wedding invites. But I'm not ready for that point yet. I'm not ready to let go. And it hurts me if some of my friends are there so quickly.

My job...oh my job. It's an adventure all it's own. I took this job because I applied at over thirty places and it was the only one to call me back. Silly me thought with a college degree I'd be able to waltz into a job anywhere (no one told me experience was necessary and degrees don't mean much except student loan payments) and that is definitely not the case. Even after I accepted this job I thought I'd be there two weeks, maybe a month max. I thought surely once I moved here I'd be able to get any other job immediately! But noooo....I've been at my oh so temporary job about two months now. 

I'm so thankful to be working and having a paycheck but it's...it's just not for me. My heart aches to be with foster children who hurt and ache and need so much help. I don't like the drama, manipulation and dishonesty around me. I understand that happens in EVERY job - believe me I'm not waiting for a perfect place to work. It's just that my soul longs for a specific job that I cannot seem to get my foot in the door for. Not only that, but I don't like who I am when I'm there. I am mean, frustrated, a short fuse. I get angry and don't treat the kids the way I would want to be treated. I know that if I were in daycare, I wouldn't want me as my teacher.

But these past few weeks I have been reminded of God's enormous love for me. He is so capable of giving me a new job and yet door after door has been closed and I am growing more and more confident that He is in control and has me right where He wants me. 

God knows the absolute BEST possible plan for me and although at times I wish some aspects of it were different, I am certain that He won't keep me there a day longer than I'm supposed to be there. He has blessed me greatly with new friends and family here and I am thankful. This morning a wonderful peace has overwhelmed me and I just know that He is in control.

Unknown

I can officially get around town without using my GPS. And I know some people here now! People at work, church, and my neighbors.

75% of me feels comforted by that. 75% of me likes that I have someone to call in an emergency and that if I were to die some people here would know. To know others and be known is something many people in the world seek

And yet, the other 25% of me sort of wants to pack up and leave to somewhere new now.

I guess there's just that one little quarter of me that doesn't want to be known by anyone anymore. I don't feel like I've necessarily been honest with everyone...including myself...in all my reasons for coming here. I think part of it is that relationships hurt. When you get close to people, it can be dangerous because people who know you well can hurt you the absolute most. And getting attached to people is just...a really hard thing to get over.

To be in a place where no one can hurt you because no one knows you, well it feels a little bit comforting.

I still like it here. For a good whole month I didn't cry one tear and I only missed people in words.

But a few nights ago, I had a dream about all my friends and I began to miss people with my entire soul. I began to miss the wrinkles on their faces, and the way a hug from them warms my heart. I began to miss the way their eyes look at me and all their quirks and every single thing that irritates me about them. I miss my mom and my two best friends and my friends from college and my aunt and uncle.

I don't want to miss people. I want to be a big girl. I want to be someone that my friends can be proud of. I want them to know that I haven't cried that much and that I'm doing really well and I'm being so strong and so big. I'm trying not to dwell on it and be strong. I want people to look at me and think I am strong, that I am an independent woman.

I suppose I'm not quite there yet.


To be unknown is safe. But the way I'm feeling tonight, I'd rather run back and be hurt by the people I love.

Looking for a Reason

I arrived in my new place safe and sound! Things here are pretty great and just like I wanted. I'm still a work in progress though. I didn't just move here and magically become the person I wanted to be, but I am working on making things different.

It's certainly not perfect but I am much happier here than I would have been at home. It is definitely easier to be away from all the people I knew and clear my head. I needed to get away from everything and empty out all my thoughts. There are so many people I miss and love and yet I want to just completely forget what they look like. It's much easier here to be healthy and that's precisely what I wanted.

But another great adventure has called me. They said I could leave and go travel with them for 2 years. It would be an amazing, amazing experience and one I would remember for the rest of my life. Up until last May I was pretty set on this 2 year adventure program. It was my plan. All I wanted. No doubts.

But after they didn't call me I began to feel restless and I gave up hope that they would ever call. I didn't want to spend my life waiting for them. Thus, I went for another plan, which was the adventure to pack up and move here to a town where I don't know anyone.

I like it here and I just got here and I'm not ready to leave yet.

But if I'm here for another six months and all I'm doing is sleeping, working, eating, around and around...then I have to go. I can't say no. There is no reason for me to say no if life here is just going to be like life was before I moved.

But I want to stay. I want a reason to stay. I want an excuse to say no.

I want a group of friends so close that I know I could never leave. I want seasons so beautiful that I can't stop starring at the scenery. I want a church that's so involved in ministering to those who need help that I am on a first-name basis with the homeless in this town. I want a man (with a mustache) and arms that engulf me. I want to be cozied up on his lap when someone from home asks "What about the "two year adventure?" And I want to look at them and say "The two year what?"

I want a reason to stay here. But I won't stay without one. I will go if there's no reason not to. But I don't want to. Please, please dear God, please give me reasons to stay.

Different(ly)

I'm moving because I want different. 

I want life to look different. I want to feel different(ly). I want to be a different person. I want different people whom I can interact with in a different way and who see me different(ly). I want people whom I can love different(ly) and who love me different(ly) and whom I can have different relationships with.


I want to see things different(ly). I want a new perspective and some fresh air. I feel stagnant here. Suffocating. Like I'm caught in a warp of thick, humid air with no way to get a sunburn or freeze. 

I want to be a different person. I want to be the type of person who would never get in fights with other people for ridiculous reasons. I want to be the type of person who would never text mean things. I want to be mature. I want to be the type of person whom no one would ever give up on. I want the good parts of me to outweigh the bad. I want to be strong and independent. Not afraid of things. Doesn't cry all the time. Not a big, fragile baby. I want to be tough. I want to be everything I am not. Good-hearted. Kind. Easy to love. Easy to get along with. Easy to be with. Healthy. Normal. 

I'm moving 794 miles away because somehow in my mind it makes me feel like I can be different there. It makes me feel like I can become better.

I got asked tonight if I'd ever get to a place where I've "found myself" or where I like myself enough to not change anymore. It was a good question and honestly, I don't know the answer. I don't know that I'll ever truly love myself. I don't really know what that looks like. I don't know that I'll ever feel okay with who I am or what I've done. I don't know that I'll ever be able to forgive myself for every February that's ever happened. I will never be good enough for myself (as explained in this post here). How could I change enough to make up for what has happened? I don't think I can. I think I can only change enough to make sure it doesn't ever happened again. I don't see how I could ever be good enough, or kind enough, or different enough to be happy with who I am.

But since I want everything to be different....


Maybe I will try. I will try to be different in the way that I love myself. I will try to be different in the way that I allow myself some breathing room. I will try to let go of some of those mistakes. I will try to be different(ly) in that I find myself and like what I've found

Summer Adventures

There's so much to say! Way more than what could possibly be explained in one post but I shall try...

My first adventure in this post-college life is that I got a job. An extremely well paying job, with benefits and insurance and a promise to be promoted to shift manager in 6 months. Adventure 1.5 is that I quit after three days because I. HATED. IT. SOOOOOOO much. It was a horrible job and I still don't regret it although I made more in those three days than I will make anywhere else in two weeks.

The second adventure is that I had an enormous emotional breakdown for about three days in which I sobbed continuously and told my mother I had to leave the state or else I was going to die. I tried to get her to see how there were absolutely no jobs for me in this state and how I've met practically every man of marrying age and there's just no one for me here. I sat at home and panic began to set in...I'm a college graduate, living at home, with no job, no plans, no hope for a future. The word "loser" began to become permanently embedded on my arm so I felt like I had to do something to get out of this funk and quick.

Which brings me to my third and by far most exciting adventure.

I haven't written here in a long time because...I have a secret! And I don't want to tell anyone! But then I realized no one reads this anyways so it doesn't matter. Ready for my secret? Okay, here 'goes:

I thought long and hard about who I could convince to help me pack up my car and move to another state with me (because of the no jobs and no suitable knights in armor problem). After a few hours of pleading and begging and persuading, my college roommate decided she would carpe diem with me. So

I'm moving!!!! Yay!! 

I wanted to move immediately that weekend but alas being an adult means making decisions that are more "responsible" and "thought-out" (yuck!) So we've spent the past three weeks securing an apartment, u-haul, and a budget. We leave in exactly 360 hours (or 15 days)! 

The final adventure of the past month is that because of adventures number two and three...I had to get a job immediately. I needed a downpayment for our apartment and some moolah to fill my car with gas to get down there. So I went down to the *ahem* run-down fast food restaurant I worked at in high school and got a job.

It's not near as bad as I thought it would be and I've been there for three weeks now and finally have some friends. I've been talking to God and I know He is teaching me a lot of humility through this. I think I needed to take this job to get money for our apartment and hop off whatever pedestal I thought I belonged on. The biggest lesson I really see in this is how your job doesn't define who you are in life. I can make $200,000 a year and be the biggest and best business person ever but if I'm not spreading God's Word and investing in the lives of those around me, my entire life is meaningless. Or I could work at this restaurant for forty-five years straight and make a huge impact on the lives of my co-workers and customers and my life would be one of abundant joy and meaning.

I am very thankful God blessed me with a job so quickly, knowing I needed money immediately for the move. He has really been making things fall into place for this and I truly feel like this move is what He is leading me and my roommate to do. I'm so excited to see what He has in store for us!!

I haven't told anyone yet, except of course my mother. My original plan was to leave without telling anyone until I arrived at my destination but with some strong persuasion by my mother, I've been encouraged to tell a few family members who might "get their feelings hurt." I've been holding off on telling them though as long as possible because I just don't want to answer all their questions.

"Why? How? Do you have a job? What are you going to do for work? How will you get money? What about a job? Are you sure you've thought about it enough? Are you sure you've worked everything out? Are you sure you are sure?"

To which I would respond "Because I can. In a Ford. No. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. Yes. Yes. Yes."

Everything is pretty much on track except for...yeah the job part. But for three weeks now I've been filling out applications and sending out cover letters daily. I kid you not, I've applied for eighteen jobs so far. Part of the problem is that I have no experience and most of that jobs I'm aiming for require some of that...(who knew?). I've lowered my standards a bit each week and I'm beginning to scratch my head and wonder why I went to college. But if I end up arriving and working at another *ahem* restaurant then so be it. God has always taken care of me and He has something great for me. I know it. He has never let me down and I know that it will work out.

Part of the fun of adventures and fairytales is that we don't know all the details yet. Jumping and not knowing where you are going to land, but trusting whole heartedly that you will land safely at some point is simply faith.

It's restless nights like tonight that make me wish I could get in my car and go now. I miss people I haven't even said goodbye to yet but at the same time I feel so exhilarated that I miss nothing.



I can't wait to be 794 miles away. That will be the real adventure!