The Girl in the Porcelain Doll

college, friendship, God, illness, life, love

If I had a dollar for every time someone commended me on being “strong”, I’d be a very rich woman.

In our society, being strong means balancing everything and everyone without breaking a sweat.

It means sleep deprivation and a borderline serious addiction to coffee.

It means meeting deadlines, no matter the cost to your sanity; or relationships.

It means not falling apart when you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Sometimes I feel like a girl trapped inside a porcelain doll. I can feel myself beginning to crack; trying to escape this emotional prison, but I patch myself up time and again, for the fear that if I shatter, who will be there to pick up the pieces?

If I fall apart, who will hold the others together?

If I’m not Superwoman, who’s going to save the day?

But I’m not Superwoman.

I’m just a woman.

Sometimes, I just can’t withstand the pressure.

Sometimes, those few little cracks happen in the right places, and I can’t tape them back together; I shatter.

Sometimes, I’m PMSing with a stomach bug, missing deadlines, can’t clean my apartment, don’t have energy for love or friendship, and go through a great loss.

The mind is a fragile, terrifying, beautiful place. It is the entirety of you; it is the seat of your soul.

My mind is frazzled. My mind is tired of hiding emotions that I push aside because, “I just don’t have time to fall apart right now.”

My soul is tired. It’s tired of straining to hold up the mask .

My mouth is weary. It cannot utter the words, “I’m fine,” one more time.

So this is me being honest. This is me falling apart. This is me crying out the tears that have been burning a whole sitting in my stomach. This is me pouring out the emotions that have turned to bile and started to poison my heart.

This is me breaking free from my porcelain frame.

This is being strong.

 

 

 

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24 Hours

family, life, love

We are all at once alive in one day,

and we die in one day.

Our entire lives can change in one day,

or they can stay the same in that same amount of time.

Within those 24 hours we have the power to love, hurt, give life, or take it away.

Everyday is a new step into the inevitable. Into the unknown. Into existence.

Each day is a gift–a fragile, finicky gift.

Life is not guaranteed, and a good one is not promised.

We must do our best to make the hours, minutes, and seconds count.

From the time you breath your first breath in this life,

until the day you breath your last,

you are a part of this world;

you are alive.

So why don’t you go out and make the most of it,

because today can be your day.

Be quick though,

the clock is ticking,

and time stops for no one.

An Open Letter To The Guys On The Row

Boys, college, God, life

Dear Guys on the row,

I want to thank you for comparing me to a dog today. I know that sounds a little counterproductive, but let me explain. I’m not thanking you because you decided to be a chauvinistic butt-head. Or because you almost brought me to tears. Or because you completely deflated the happy feeling I had in my heart.

No, I’m thanking you, because you reminded me of one thing: My worth, and identity, can no longer be wrapped up in what you think. The only One who can decide that is God, and He thinks I’m pretty freaking great. You see, I used to care so much about what you thought of me. Whether or not I was pretty, smart, funny, or clever enough, was all up to you. I let who I was become who you told me I was. But not anymore.

You proved to me once and for all that you will never see me the way He does. You’ll never be able to give me the approval I so desire, because you weren’t made to.

I’m sorry I ever put you in that position and that I ever elevated you to such heights in my mind. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, I am a 20 year old girl after all, but what I can say is that I will try.

I will try to believe the truth about myself. I will try to not care about what other people think about me. And I will definitely try to forget about what you said to me today.

Sincerely,

Dog Girl.

Wondering

college, illness, life

I very often wonder about people…I wonder about the kind of life they live. I wonder if they have people they love and that love them. And sometimes I wonder what the hell happened to them to make them so damn awful.

Today, I wondered about the latter… It was earlier this afternoon. I was shopping with my–very hip–grandmother, when it hit me: A bathroom emergency (for all of my Crohns and Colitis friends, you know what I mean). I promptly left the store to find a restroom. Without going into too much detail, because let’s be honest no one wants details, I was accosted by a bathroom attendant who not only saw it fit to shame me in my current unfortunate circumstance, but also thought it was necessary to inform the rest of the bathroom patrons as to what was going on….

I’m not a violent person. Aside from very understandable road rage, I rarely raise my voice or yell at people. I’ve never cussed someone out (to their face), I’ve never hit anyone. I honestly just try to be kind, even to the assholes. I was that way today, even in the midst of her berating me, I tried my best to keep my peace and my composure, because, I wondered to myself, “Maybe something really bad happened to her to make her respond this way to me.”

I quickly left the bathroom thoroughly traumatized, and just ready to leave the mall entirely. When I recounted this interaction to my mother, she was obviously outraged (I’m just glad she wasn’t with me, pretty sure mall security would have been called…) but more than that she wanted me to understand something: I have nothing to be ashamed of, and moreover, I should stand up for myself more.

Not a novel idea, no, but one to me. I like to keep quiet. I don’t yell, I don’t scream, but I can speak. And I should’ve spoken to that women today. Hell I wish I had spoken to all the people who have shamed, embarrassed, and discriminated against me because of this illness I have. And there have been many.

I wish this woman was just a one off event, but she’s not. She’s quite honestly the norm. What people don’t understand they tend to be hateful towards (please do not turn this into a political post, it’s not). No this post is about me. And my illness. It’s not fun to talk about, it’s not sexy, and unlike what Hollywood would like you to believe, I do not have an Augustus Waters waiting for me at the end of the day. And yet I’m still sick.

I don’t want to be, I don’t want to think of myself as disabled, but according to the government, I am. I hate not being free to do everything people my age should be able to do. I’ve never liked the word no. And still, here I am.

Sure, it could be worse. I could have a potentially fatal, incurable disease that takes over my life at the most inopportune of times. Oh wait…

So, what should you take away from all of this, truthfully? I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to rant. Maybe it’s for someone who should be kinder to the people they don’t understand. And maybe no one will even read this, but it’s here. And just like my disease, it’s real.

I’m Still Me

betrue, college, life

I’m still me…

With the crazy, frizzy, curly hair.

I’m still me, with the imperfect boobs.

I’m still me, with a muffin top.

I’m still me, with the giant zit.

I’m still me, without makeup.

I’m still me, with sweatpants on.

I’m still me, with the stretch marks.

I’m still me, during the mood swings.

I’m still me, when the dark moments come.

I’m still me, when you don’t see my worth.

I’m still me, when you do.

I’m still me, when I don’t know who ‘me’ is.

I’m still me, when I’m just…me.

The Feeling

college, life, love

There’s a special kind of pain. It’s the kind of pain where you can feel every pulse of your heartbeat, and with every breath that draws your chest upward, it’s like a thousand knifes bearing deeper into your soul.

All your nerve endings are on fire; searing, burning, screaming fire.

Then the tears come. Fast and hard. They fall from your face like fat goblets of truth. They burn your eyes as they leave them, further validating the pain you feel.

Then the screaming comes. Gut-wrenching, breath-stealing, ear-ringing screaming.

Finally, you’re so exhausted that all you can muster is a pitiful “please.” You silently plead with God, asking Him for them not to be gone.

But you know it’s for naught. And as you lay with your spent body in pieces the screaming will cease, the tears will dry up, your nerve endings will relax, and the pain will dull.

Because now it comes in moments, and you know that all you have to do is make it through.

The Truth Hurts

college, life, love

You’re not who you thought you’d be.

He’s not who he said he was.

They didn’t care as much as you wanted them to.

Life is harder than you were prepared for.

Dreams die quicker than they should.

Sleep is way too fleeting.

Rest is almost impossible.

And somewhere along the way you just gave up.

But maybe you are who you’re supposed to be?

Yeah he sucked, but maybe the next guy won’t?

They weren’t your real friends and you knew it.

Disney is bullshit.

Dreams only die if you let them.

I mean, basically, you still won’t sleep.

Make time for rest. Demand it.

Giving up is not an option. Pour some coffee, turn on some music, put on some red lipstick and get your ass out there.

Living

college, life, love

Sometimes life really likes to try and get you down. You start to feel as if that next fake smile might be the one to finally shatter your soul, and unleash the flood of emotions you’ve been holding back.

It’s like we’re all walking down one long New York City street. Where everyone is walking the same way, fast, and with a purpose. No one looks up or around; they just keep walking. But then something happens. Loss, a break up, a failure, and you’re forced to stop. You look around at where you are and realize it’s not at all where you thought you’d be. Everyone is still walking around you and you’re just standing, taking inventory. It’s scary and lonely, but oh so necessary.

You see, some people never look up. They let the flow of people pull them in the direction they think is forward. They forgot to treasure life because they’re always just trying to get to the next block. When your little bubble of false security is burst, you have a rare opportunity to choose the direction you want to go.

It’s terrifying realizing just how fragile and short life is. We have no control over that, only God knows. You may even feel paralyzed because of your new found knowledge, but you can’t let it bring you down. It’s meant to lift you up! To elevate you to new heights that you never even imagined before.

This is when my only knowledge of Lost comes in: Allow yourself to be scared for five seconds. And then get out there and live your life.

One…Two…Three…Four…Five…

Remembering

college, life, love

I remember that day like it was happening right now.

It’s forever seared into my memory, gripping my mind so tight, I feel as if it might choke it.

It went along like any other day.

I thought there would be some feeling, almost a warning. That I would know.

But I didn’t.

I didn’t know anything.

I was blissfully ignorant.

Everyone else knew, but no one wanted to tell me.

They just couldn’t spoil my day; until they had to.

I remember looking into her eyes.

That’s when I knew.

There was no warning.

Only a tsunami of feelings.

Hatred. Regret. Fear. Denial. Anger. Sadness.

I couldn’t even hear the words coming out of her mouth.

I remember them, I just can’t remember hearing them.

The only thing I could hear was this internal scream, bubbling up from the depths of my soul, but not able to escape my mouth.

I saw the words she was saying. And that’s when I ran.

I ran.

Only to the edge of the water.

But I ran.

I ran to you. From you. Around you.

And then I collapsed.

I collapsed in the sand yes, but also into every emotion that was pulling me down.

I collapsed into myself.

I hated you. I couldn’t believe you would leave me.

You. Who was my biggest cheerleader and my best friend.

You left without me, to a place I couldn’t follow you to.

Oh I tried didn’t I?

But I still couldn’t come.

I regretted, and still do, all the time I didn’t spend with you.

I was afraid of this brave new world without you.

While I was only a fraction of your life, you were the entirety of mine.

I didn’t believe it, and sometimes still don’t.

My anger drove me to places, and left me there for dead.

But my sadness, it likes to sweep in and out of my life.

It takes my breath in its cold hands and locks it up tight.

It presses on my eyes until I’m forced to relieved the pressure with tears.

It drills a neat, little hole in the center of my heart. Just enough to hurt, but not enough to kill.

You see, I remember that day like I was living it right now, and today, I am.