I am the Wreckage Left Behind

There is no feeling in the world like finishing a good book.

It’s like a slap in the face, or getting a bucket of ice water poured on your head. It’s a jolt that causes me to realize that I haven’t been in my body for the past – a glance at the clock – seven hours.

Nothing mattered. I was running through the streets of Ketterdam, a thief fighting the odds alongside Kaz Brekker, I was battling he who must not be named with my fellow students and professors, I was Aelin Galathynius and no one could stop me.

But once my eyes greedily devour what’s left on that page, I’m back to being me.

Just a girl with cold feet, a stiff posture and the most marvelous one pound object in front of me.

I’ll spend the rest of the day in a blind daze. Wondering why I am no longer in Ketterdam, or at Hogwarts.

And it hurts. A physical ache in my chest. Why isn’t this me? Why aren’t I living this kind of life?

And its an awful realization that I’m not.

For the rest of the day I’m shaky, seconds away from crying for no good reason. I’m hyperaware of whatever I’m doing in the world around me, but lost, aimlessly drifting in a world that seems like it’s not quite real.

I’m lost, just wanting to be able to read the book for the first time again. To get lost all over again.

I wander through the house, wanting that life, wanting to just disappear into the books that I love, to live these incredible lives.

Despite the struggle, the scars, the damage, the truly horrendous pasts that give dimension to the people who I am closer to than anyone else in the world, I want to be these people.

And **** the writers who create these worlds and these people. I run from my emotions and yet I can’t run from reading, and emotions are all I get from reading. I can’t bring myself to run from these writers. I’m like a junkie who hates what they do to themselves but loves the ride too much.

All I want to do is read and never reach the end. But equally so, the end is the best part. I am constantly tempted to rip out the last page and toss it to hell but I can’t. I always walk through the fire for it.

Photo Credit: BBC

It’s not like finishing a movie or a show. That is me watching someone else doing something. When I finish a book, I have been put through the same ringer the characters have. I have lived the same life.

Part of my soul is fulfilled and yet a larger part of it is missing. Finishing a book is losing a part of myself. A part of myself that I have committed hours to, I have paced for, I have lived for.

When I finish a book, I finish a lifetime. I say goodbye to friends who never knew me but I knew them. I say goodbye to a family that I loved in that time more than I have ever loved. I say goodbye to a reincarnation of myself. I say goodbye to something that doesn’t even know I exist and yet has wrecked me.

There is no feeling in the world like finishing a good book.

It is a feeling akin to finding the one thing in all of life that you search for, and losing the one thing in all the universe that you cannot stand to lose.

Awkward. Physical. Contact.

Otherwise known as hugs. Or even worse prolonged hugs.

Almost everyone I know is in love with this activity. They say to me:

“It’s a great way to display love.”

“It’s a way of showing you care.”

“It’s a way of connecting with a person.”

“It is a way of comforting people.”

Hugs just make me uncomfortable. I find issue with being in that much contact with a person.

This is a particular issue when in a situation that includes re-meeting people, saying goodbye to people, and expressing excess emotion.

I do kind of wish I was better with the whole “come here and give me a nice big hug” thing, but then again it’s just not who I am.

Many a time I have been asked why I don’t like hugs or in fact most prolonged physical contact.

I have set out to answer this (and maybe this is true for more people than just me).

 

Darkness

Sometimes I can’t move.  I’ll lay in bed staring blankly at a screen.  I am not evening watching the movie that my eyes are fixated on.  I’m in another world.

The darkness started in my brain, it made me smile less, and cry more.

Then it moved into my eyes,

the darkness made me see things differently.

When I looked in the mirror I didn’t see myself anymore, I saw a girl with dark black eyes.

Darkness took over my mouth soon after.  Negativity spewed out like oil in the middle of a dark blue ocean.  It covered me with a thick black liquid.

Darkness wrapped around my heart so tightly that nothing could escape.

Things I once loved, things that brought me so much happiness no longer warmed my heart, they simply pasted in front of me like a person I use to know.

Darkness takes my legs from time to time.  There’s nothing I want more but to move.  I want to run, and dance and write and jump. 

Instead I sit, lifeless, glaring at the sticky white ceiling of my room.

I would like to think I am stronger than the darkness.

I know I’m not.

Sometimes I trick the darkness.

I make jokes, and laugh and pretend like he doesn’t exist.

The darkness is stronger than me.

And takes over.

Growing Pains

Photo Credit to: theodysseyonline.com

Monogamy as a concept is a strange thing, but little girls are taught from early childhood to believe that it is the ultimate goals.

More than half of my friends parents are divorced, often times with one parent leaving the other behind completely abandoned.

For me, I don’t even remember my parents kissing because I was so young when they divorced. Yet, pretty much every story I was read at night ended with a boy and a girl falling in love and living happily ever after.

Now, I sit here in my late teenage years watching beautiful relationships turn toxic in the blink of an eye.

What was once the most amazing time of your life quickly becomes a distant and wildly painful memory.

I just broke up with the first person that I’ve ever loved and because of that I’m feeling certain emotions that I’ve never felt before.

I’m not sure how to dispose of these feelings for someone who I’m still kind of in love with, even though they hurt me so deeply and so consistently.

How do you know your last kiss will be your last kiss?

How do you know when he says “I love you” that it will be the last time you ever hear those words grace his lips.

There is no rule book on this stuff – no matter how much I wish there was.

My mom always said “love shouldn’t hurt”, and that is a major factor into why certain relationships of mine have ceased to exist.

But mom, you’re wrong.

Love hurts.

It hurts when you’re so full of passion that your heart could practically explode.

It hurts when you get in your first fight.

And love really hurts right about now.

 

 

Anxiety

The feeling hits you like a bus.

The feeling is like an elephant on your chest.

The feeling inside of your stomach.

The feeling is like the shivers.

The feeling is a civil war.

The feeling is like a virus creeping around your body.

The feeling leaves your brain like mush.

The feeling is like a constant struggle for the upper hand.

The feeling isn’t normal.

The feeling is like a tornado, bringing havoc to your body.

The feeling, for me, never goes away.

The feeling of anxiety, of constant nervousness.

The extra fear is a constant.

Every day is a perilous journey.

From sunrise to sunset.

Constant worrying.

Worrying about school, grades, boyfriends, friends, family, everything.

There is no escape of this feeling.

Constant fear of the future and present and past.

Not just big things, but every, minute spec of life like a challenge to the brain.

It’s not temporary.

It’s not an emotion.

It’s not “just anxiety.”

It’s not okay.

It’s not fine.

It’s there.

It’s my constant state of being.

It’s how I live.

It’s how I was born.

It’s my mental illness.

It’s my little pain in my head, chest, or stomach.

It’s my forever.

It’s not part of me, it is me.

SAT TESTING ROUND TWO

Photo Credit: http://www.educationnews.org

Today I came home to hear some of the best news I have all week.

President Obama hates standardized testing almost as much as I do.

The Obama administration has come up with a new plan for standardized testing; capping standardized testing to 2% of classroom time.

Someone finally understands the pressure.

I have spent the past week agonizing over my latest SAT scores.

After receiving a score that I believe it so sub-par to the standards set, I sat in my room for hours and considered my options: maybe I won’t get accepted to any colleges, maybe I should just give up now, maybe I should spend an extra three hours a day studying for this test.

For this is a test that does not demonstrate the magnitude of what I have learned throughout the course of high school, but a test that displays how well I can adapt to it’s irrelevant questions.

Questions that are completely meaningless in the grand scheme of things, questions that do not reflect how intelligent I am, or how successful I will be in my college career.

Rather, this test gives college admission teams the ability to put my knowledge into a category of advanced or average.

The pressure I have felt throughout the past four years of my life to meet the “above average” score of this test is obscene.

I have spend countless nights laying awake in my bed wondering if the work I have completed in the last four years will be dismissed because of an average test score that I have earned through sitting at a desk for four hours.

The standardized system is flawed.

There is no standard anything for a million adolescent brains that function at different paces and in different ways.

Hurting is not Flirting

Photo Credit: thedailylove.com

As a young girl when a boy would pick on me on the playground I was told it was just because he liked me.

As a young girl when a boy would hit me on the playground I was told it was just because he liked me.

Photo Credit: facebook.com

Where do we draw the line? If a punch leaves a bruise and a girl goes crying to a nurse, does the excuse that “he must really like you,” make the bruise diminish? Like the size of a bruise or the deepness of a cut shows fondness to a young girl.

The sad truth is that we have taught boys the idea of violence and taunting is a way to show a girl that you like her.

Society has a serious problem in the way that we define masculinity. Young boys are shown that they should hide their emotions and the only manly way to display those suppressed feelings is through violence. Because for some reason acting “feminine” is a worst case scenario.

 

Part 2

Not for even one second did the boy break eye contact with the girl until he collapsed in front of the praying people. The girl carefully lowered her glare to the wound that was slowly growing on the boy’s front; without disturbing the rest of the group she carefully picked up the feather-light boy and brought him to an empty building.

She left shortly after, only to return with singed medical supplies. She quickly and deftly removed the tooth from the long gash, and then with a large amount of rubbing alcohol cleansed his grimy wound.

The boys eyes stayed closed the entire time; she spared a quick glance at his face before starting to stitch him closed, he was awake she knew but she also knew that he would not show any sign of it. Once the stitching was done she left the boy in the ruins of the building, to come out on his own terms, but she took the tooth with her.

She held the tooth in her left hand and strange weight settled in her stomach. For some reason she knew what this meant, but at the time she was unsure; eventually she would know what to do, more specifically in one days’ time. Minutes later the boy came out of the building and sat himself next to her. The last crowd on earth stared at the two of them from afar.

The girl started the conversation: I’m not sure who you are, where you came from, why you’re here; but I can tell you this you’re not on earth anymore, no, I’d like to personally welcome you to Tartarus. He looked down, at his hands: yes, I know. Her head whipped toward him her hair flying into her face: then why do I see hope in your eyes? He looks away from the searing stare of the girl: redemption? Redemption, is that a joke? He sighed through his nose: no.

Then what is it? She snaps. The world’s screwed up enough as it is without some cracked up looney with a superhero complex trying to tell anyone left that it gets better. Honestly I don’t know why I’m here, alright? It’s the only civilization for countries and I was about to die of blood loss. She stared at him for a long time, the weight in her stomach growing: rest for the night. She sighed: there’s – there’s something important that I would like to show you tomorrow.

When the boy found her in the morning she was turning the tooth around in her hand, as if comforting herself. What was it you wanted to show me? Follow me, she stood up quickly. Her short figure moving more gracefully and quickly than the boy’s ever would. They traveled in silence for the entire journey out of the city.

The tear and dust stained people disappearing into minuscule figures behind them; at the edge of the city the girl looked back to see the people who survived, only those too afraid to live left to live out the rest of earth’s days, she shook her head. She turned back toward the road: this is going to be a long walk, try not to tear your stitches. She turned off the road and began trudging into the woods that were at a steady decline toward the south bay.

Would you mind telling me what this is about? She stopped abruptly causing him to run into her back. The forest had been one of the few places not damaged in the waves of radiation; for some unexplained reason it had remained immutable, unchanging. The thick green was almost suffocating, the damp moss-y-ness in the air sickening.

Never has a new person ever wander into this city of dead; never have we seen anyone dragging hope like a heavy flag behind them. Is it coincidence that three days after the human race got down on its knees to pray for their savior, to pray for hope, a wayward traveler with hope alight in his eyes shows up on the door step of the one city that holds what’s left of God’s will? He stumbles back from her, lightning dancing through his brain: you don’t think I’m the messiah do you? She looks down and swallows: We still have four miles, let’s continue moving.

Photo Credit: http://www.tate.org.uk/ Painting By: J. M. W. Turner

When they reached the south bay the girl smoothly dragged a decrepit kayak from under a dense covering of foliage. She calmly lowered herself into the back, ready to push off from shore but he, the unlikely savior, was cemented to the higher, dry sand. The girls tawny eyes were cast downward, unwilling to meet his pale green ones: messiah or not, the last of the humans the rest of the world needs a savior right now and I – it all comes down to you, are you getting in the kayak or not?

In that moment something unknown spurred the boy on, he unceremoniously dropped himself into the front of the kayak and took the paddle and handed it to the girl. As they pushed off the boy let a question tumble from his mouth: why aren’t you the savior? The girl continued to paddle, with all the force of two people: I have my reasons. There was a pause: It’s…a story for another time.

A Big, Calming Hug

It happens in an instant,

the moment they become distant.

Each memory merely a snapshot,

frozen in your mind.

Smile for the picture,

a big, calming hug goodbye,

no more little tears left to cry.

Now there are only real tears,

the ones that come from your biggest fears,

the ones that leave you empty,

a body heaving for air,

for love,

for a nice, calming hug.

No.

There are no more reassuring words,

from the one that makes your whole world.

No more smiles as you bite into your freshly baked cookie,

no more cheers on the soccer field,

no more hugs when you’re sad,

no more hugs when you’re glad,

no more,

no more.

Is it nice to miss class when you want?

Is it nice to get “mental health days?”

WHAT THE HECK.

It is NOT nice to have to miss class to see a therapist,

to talk about “feelings” and ways to help your crippling anxiety,

when missing class causes even more stress,

then being there.

It is NOT nice to stay in bed gasping for air,

tears everywhere,

in your hair,

eyes,

pillow,

sheets.

It is NOT nice to lose a parent to cancer.

It is NOT nice to hear your condolences.

Don’t think of yourself as a hero for saying “sorry.”

Don’t fling around a word you don’t mean.

Don’t tell me you know how I’m feeling.

JUST LEAVE.

I don’t want a hug,

not from you.

I only want a big, calming hug.

If only I had the person here to give it to me.null

The issue with trust

‘Just trust me,’ a phrase often used in our language, but not so often meant.

Our brains work by emotion, wired for compassion, understanding, and trust. It calms us, soothes us, and controls us. Learn more here.

So let’s start at the beginning. You are a small child, and your parent promises you ice cream. You have been exited all day, but when you finally get home, they say they are too busy for something so silly as ice cream.

You are already beginning a pattern of distrust. And you get older, friends, family, strangers, everyone you know throws around this idea of a promise as a way to calm, a short-term fix for a long-term problem.

We are often told not to make promises we can’t keep, good advice, yet seemingly impossible in our community today.

“Do you promise?’ ‘Swear on your life?’ ‘Pinky Swear?’ (Which, by the way, used to mean that if the promise was broken, he who was at fault would promptly have their pinky removed.)

Well, you say, how can we fix this? The answer is not that simple. You see, our use of human emotion as leverage has been evolving for a long time.

So help me, help us.

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