No one else can wear your crown. It's yours, just yours.

There's no real best way to start this but to start it. I'm here to tell you everything you deserved to hear. Every truth and every piece of love that you fucking needed.  Just like Grandpa said.... You're okay honey. You will be okay, and you're not wrong. He was right.  And I'm here to tell you, so are you. And I'm so sorry that it took 17 years for you to hear these words from me.

I guess I'll start with Grandpa, because he was the first who met you where you were at and made you feel like you weren't as isolated as you felt. I will never forget what he said that day at the house on Vista in the driveway. I will never forget his eyes full of love and understanding, and the heartfelt sadness he had for you when he put his hand on your cheek as he looked at you and tried to reach you in your pain.  You will never forget that.  He may not have known all that was going on at the time, but he could see. And he took your hand and told you that you were okay. That you were not crazy, not wrong, not bad. He saw it all. 12 years later when you were 27 years old, he pulled you from that darkness yet again, when you saw a darkness that so many see. A darkness where so many people have nobody to visit there. He met you there, and sat with you. With his warm Carhartt hoodie and sweet loving hands. And he made you feel normal, yet again. This is why he still means so much to you to this very day.  You are 32 years old now, and still see him every day even though he's not here.  You will value his words, his love, his gifts, and his presence in your life forever. 

I didn't mean for this to be about Grandpa first off, but in the end we both know he was the only one at the time who truly saw what you were going through.  Except for Dad, he saw it too, just in a different way. And in a way that you won't truly understand until later. 

What if I told you that all the pain you're going through right now is something you will someday look back on and feel was worth it? Will that make it easier for you?  It certainly won't make it okay, because you should've never had to feel this in the first place.  But, here I am now to say... even though there's nothing that can make you feel that this would be worth it, it's worth it knowing the relationships that come out of it.  With your grandfather.  With your father.  I don't doubt we would've been this close to them even without this pain, but somehow it made it more real, you know?  It's made me see exactly how beautiful, how valuable, and how priceless it is to feel this love between Dad and you.  Someday, you will be able to give him and show him the love and support he's shown you.  It all fucking sucks, but it all is worth it once you see and understand the father you have and the daughter that you are to him. It's priceless and nothing can compare to how special and meaningful it is.

You're amazing, and beautiful, and strong, and everything I could ever hope to be.  17 years later, and I'm still learning things from you. Please never stop teaching me, changing me, and shaping me.  Always, always be you.  You were never wrong.  You were never bad.  You were always so fucking beautiful and so fucking amazing.  I'm so sorry nobody told you that.  I'm so sorry you were searching and yearning for that validation and acceptance and love from your peers and never received it.  I'm so sorry they made you feel like less than you truly were.  I'm so sorry that your light was slowly dimmed by people who were too blind to see how absolutely stunning you were, and still are.  Thank you for teaching me that I'm still that person. And for never letting that light go out.

"No one else can steal your light, 'cause it's yours.  Just yours."

Now the kicker is... What if I told you that someday you'd be sitting at your desk as an adult, listening to cathartic music, looking at your things around you that make you feel whole.  Photos of Grandpa, a candle that smells of wood and pine, a plant with heart-shaped leaves, and a figurine that gives you all the confidence you need to make it through your day.  A dog snoring in the background and a glass of wine next to your keyboard. Good music playing from your computer speakers. "Dust" by Oh Wonder, and "Do It All Again" by WILD, those are the ones to remember. Play them while you read this. They're my love songs to you.

What if I told you that you'd have so many more painful moments in life, but that someday you'd be supported through them.  By loved ones, of course.  But by most of all, yourself.  You always had it right.  You had your own back, and in the end that's what matters most.  Yes, it hurts when those in your life who are supposed to be there for you just aren't.  But in the end, it doesn't matter when you know that you are your own best friend, your own best advocate, your own superhero. You have always known this, but someday you'll truly see that you were right. That it really IS all that matters.

What if I told you, 17 years later you'd cry tears for yourself? 

Not because you're broken.  No, you never were.  But because I have such a deep love for you that words cannot begin to describe.

You always knew then that you hurt in ways others didn't understand.  That you felt emotions and pain and joy in ways nobody else understood.  You weren't wrong.  It's true, many people don't understand these things, or they just choose to not feel them because being vulnerable is hard and it hurts. You were stronger than those people because you always chose to feel deeply rather than ignore blindly. But this is what people do unfortunately. This doesn't change as life goes on, but you will find people who will reach you in this place of vulnerability. You'll know them from various places of life, people you will never forget, people who you will have to say goodbye to far too early, and people who will remain by your side til the very end.

I'm grateful to say that you never lost that ability to hurt deeply and love strongly. You still feel, you still love, you still have joy, and you still cry and laugh and feel all the things that you did then.  This time though, you feel it fully with yourself, and it doesn't hurt more just because someone else doesn't join in with you.  But guess what, 17 years later, people do actually feel it with you.  And those are the keepers.

About Dad?  All of this was worth it.   Just know, 17 years later I would never take back all the pain you went through if it meant giving up the relationship we have with Dad now.  If that's the one thing we gained from our pain, it's worth it.  It doesn't make it okay, but it's worth it. 

In the end though, what matters most is the relationship we have with ourself.  Be mad, darling. Be angry, be joyful, be emotional, be strong, be passionate, be all the things that you are. Nobody can or will ever change that. I'm here to be all these things with you as we continue to be who we are, year by year, day by day. Feeling, smiling, crying, and being fucking beautiful through all of the ugliness in the world.

I love you and will always love you. Now wear that crown of yours with your head held high and never forget that you are strong, beautiful, and never, ever alone.

Move Along

Even when your hope is gone, move along.

This song came on at just the opportune time today.  I don't even entirely prefer The-All-American-Rejects in general unless I'm in the mood for their music, but some of the lyrics in this song selectively were immediately and intuitively correct to my current emotions upon coming into this shop considering the current circumstances.

So a day when you've lost yourself completely
Could be a night when your life ends
Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving
All the pain held in your
Hands are shaking cold
Your hands are mine to hold

I want to hold your hands.
I don't want to be lost in a night where my life ends.
I choose to hold your hands, my own hands even, and live my life. Even when my hope is gone, I will move along.


I do me.

And thank God I do, because otherwise I don't know where I would be.

Worth it all.

It's amazing what hapens when I start singing more. laughing more, loving more, and connecting with people despite any outside forces or circumstances. I do me. I have never felt more at peace, empowered, and home than when I am embracing me and doing exactly what my heart desires and exactly what makes me me. Whatever that may mean.

I feel like I've been made stronger and more comfortable in my own skin than I have ever been before. Now, being 27 years old, almost 28, I have been through enough life and shit and beautiful things and hardships to know what I want in life, even though I also know that my thoughts may change in the future, morphing and evolving as life always does.

I've just gained perspective. I'm thankful for this perspective, too.  I am better for it. Comparing me now to me in the past allows me to see how far I've come in my journey toward loving myself. And I do love myself. I've always liked myself, but now I am really happy to be able to truthfully say I love myself and I am worth it all.

Love is all you need.

In the midst of the overwhelming pain, anguish, and depression we all feel on behalf of the amazing Marshall G. McBride this week, I have decided to pledge to be a better friend, a bigger support, and a louder encourager to every person, a support of every person's path I cross, and to every person I love.

I also think I need to list the people I love who I know love me. For whenever I may get low, sad, depressed, or feeling like I'm stuck in darkness and am unloved.  I can have these amazing peoples names written to never forget that I am loved deeply, and to always remember that I am not alone.

Dad, Mom, and Cirby.
Marissa, Nick, and Alex.
All 3 sets of grandparents, all cousins and extended family.
Chad Davis Renee Bowman
Caitlyn Clyne
Daniel Clyne
and Ollie
Mr. Barry
Miss Terry
The entire Condon/Clyne family
Colby Dyck Moulaison
Kim Dyck Moulaison
And their entire family
The Lemons, Wheelers, and Arnholds
Mary Wheeler and family
Jesikah Sundin and family
Jessica Jett and family
Alex "Mad Hatter" Silveira-Sheehan
Dustin Willets and choir
Victoria Lord
Zachary Hughes
Matthew Forbes
Kat Miller
Dylon Lane Madison
Heidi and Curt Palmer and family
April Wosser
Sarah Johnson Schwab
Rob Hahnel
Howie Welsh
Casey Benjamin Zangari
Mike Machado
Caleigh Mayer
Zach Saunders
Paden Moreno
Brittnee Leen
Jenny Honrud
and the rest of the Honrud family
Nancy Almassy
Paul Walston
Michael Lykins
The Lykins family
Elizabeth Pree
Jeffrey Moonbeam
Django Bohren
Katharine Kipp
Chris Ormerod
Sarah Kate Kunkel
Dorothy Childsweber
Joe Chavira
Rich Olson
The Pima crew
James Bauckman

This list is ever growing.  I am so blessed.

Small things.

I always talk about how I find happiness in the small things.  But lately I have learned exactly how small, and unrecognized, they really are sometimes. Especially to most people.  Throughout my journey on this earth I realize more and more that one of my sole purposes in life is to bask in these small little happinesses, and to share them with someone who loves them just as much as I do.

I find the significance in these insignificant moments.

Washing my face before bed.
Smelling fresh lavender buds or drinking them in my tea.
Closing my eyes to the wild waves of the ocean, hearing all the stories it tells and the secret beauty it holds.
When a dog kisses your nose.
Giving my toes something warm to sleep in.
The beats and lyrics from beautiful souls in my life who write their music like it was meant for me.
Comforting fleece blankets.
The sound of the harmonica.
Soft pretzels.
Connecting with a stranger.
Exploring a new area of your life.
Video games and stories that make your soul feel warm.
The way it feels to have the spaces between your fingers fit perfectly in the spaces between someone else's.
Sitting on a tall watch tower bench looking out into the horizon of the bay in the dark.
Painted nails.
Singing to your favorite songs and quoting your favorite movies.
Epsom salt baths.
Crossing adventures off the bucket list.
A rich, red, earthy glass of wine to sip on.
Fluffy pillows.
The smell of books, leather, whiskey, and rain.
Laughter.
Loving people.
Learning something new.
The comfort only an amazing anime can bring.
The sound of a familiar text tone that brings back memories of another time.


I love it all.  And the list keeps getting longer, deeper, and simpler, filling more and more with all the small things that make it worth living.

One day.

One day you will come across someone who will leave you completely in awe of them. Their kindness, their sincerity, their heart, and the beautiful soul that you will get to know will leave you speechless. One day, I believe, I will have this.

Sometimes I look at you

and I can't understand

how someone before me

didn't notice a whole

beautiful universe

hidden within you,

sometimes I look at you

and I can't understand

how someone before me

didn't see what I see

sometimes I look at you

and I can't understand

how someone before me

looked at you and didn't

find every single thing

they'd been searching for

in a single human being

and sometimes I look at you

feeling glad that they didn't,

because if they looked

deep enough to see all

of those things within you,

then I would've never

been able to.

-Ruby Dhal

Helicopters and rain tears.

I didn't know it was possible to feel that much pain, to cry as hard as the rain was pouring, to feel so completely alone, isolated, small, and utterly beaten down.  Driving with nothing but the sound of tires through puddles on the highway to break the silence of my sobs.  Searching for safety, with nothing but an oversized hoodie to sleep in that night, crawling into unfamiliarity while clutching my puppy and a warm tea.

It's exactly like what she said to me though. I'm waiting for my helicopter.   When you break your leg on the top of a mountain in the snow, it's not up to you to figure out a way to get off the mountain. How to get onto the snowmobile, get down the mountain, get medical care, and get your leg fixed.  It's not up to you to heal your leg in speedy time. That analogy somehow brought me peace, knowing that all I had to do was breathe, rest in this pain, and wait.  Wait for my helicopter ride, whatever that may be, and whenever that may be.

I know there are lessons to be had here.  And I know there are things I'm already learning, discovering, and embracing about myself.  I yearn for the day when this becomes a distant memory and I can have the healing that I know I deserve, because I never deserved the pain in the first place.

If I can come out stronger for it, better for it, and somehow find closure in it, I would be happy.  I know that day will come, and as hard as it is to acknowledge the fact that day is not today, I know it will. 

Transitive

The last few weeks to a month have been rich with a warmth not unlike the feeling of a familiar return to a comfortable home. It's brought a rush of memories through my heart of many beautiful things. Of comfy walks through parking lots, of good jokes and Iron Giant comments, of pool tables and movie theaters, arcade games and deep conversations, of swinging on the porch with fresh homemade lemonade, of a voice I hold dear and laughter ringing through the silence, and of warm embraces on chilly nights.

Where or how the gap in that familiarity occurred, I am unsure. I do remember snow, and standing in the kitchen of my Lakeway house, looking down when I realized there would have to be some time in between the moments. Moments I wished to continue, but respected a need to let go. 

At that same token, I also rest easy in the more recent memory of sitting on an uncomfortable chair as I began to bask in a moment I hoped but didn't think would ever come. Photographs and kind words and a truth that showed me I wasn't really that crazy after all. Or at least not alone in the crazy. 

Amidst the excitement and anticipation I still suffered with downfalls in the best intended plans. Moments I felt were stolen from us. Disappointment as most of the fruit of our efforts resulted in unwanted obstacles that prevented the very time I desired so much to share. I don't think there was anything that pained me more, at the time. 

And yet, I still received that warmth, even from far away. And despite the lack of personal interaction, I didn't feel the distance, I only felt love. In the form of understanding and empathy, a care that I find unusually rare in this world. To feel that familiarity as before, again now, only renewed, is something truly special to me. 

Through the pain of loss I received comfort. Through the fear of further loss I received reassurance, which has arrived ten fold beyond just words and now manifests as a hopeful new beginning of moments that feel simultaneously like a delighted return to familiar and something new all in the same. 

Looking back I see the magic that has always been there. And while these moments are more than just comfort through loss but also a pure joy unlike anything else, I still will never forget his words to me in response, and really feel I must record them here so I never forget. 

A person's life and being lives on through you and what you do to others. How you now shape the world is a part of what they've given to you. Transitive. Energy. What they are can never be destroyed. They never leave you. They were a part of you before who you are now. Their lives and their passing gives you perspective on the life you now live. They not only live on through you, but also through the people you affect. It's never ending. We are nothing except those who brought us here. Good and bad, we are the accumulation of human interaction. Love and friendship and pain and sorrow. 

To me, those words are beautiful, defining a side of the human condition we often fail to acknowledge. A presence, a life and love, an energy, a truth. That those who affect us never leave us, nor do we leave them. I'm less afraid of loss now and instead find myself feeling bright and joyful for what's to come. 

Steady me now.

I can't even cry this time.  No tears greet me, despite how desperately I would like to let them escape. They are buried with what I thought I had.  And perhaps even left in the moment that was the day I realized I didn't have it in me to say goodbye to your heart, the day I know my sobs could be timelessly heard.

To cry out and reach out, only to be welcomed by a silence that speaks louder than words, is more painful than I could have imagined. The fragments of what I believed I had are scattered everywhere and I can't put them back together no matter how authentic and innocent my efforts.

I'm in this desert without you. Crying out and waiting for your answer that never arrives. Sleep has abandoned me as you have, leaving me with empty promises on the doormat.

And how can you still be the only one I see?

Bend, but never break.

Lately it's taken all I've got to make it through my work day. That moment of the day when I can remove the physical therapist role when I unclip my badge and coil up my gait belt is a moment when I can finally drop the reigns and let my surrender take the wheel.

I think even that is warrior of me.

I'm not one to count the tick marks of loss in my life but sometimes even I have weak moments where I feel all the odds are stacked against me and all I have been doing is rallying and rallying. I've been rallying endlessly for so long.

I listened to a song today written by one of my favorite songwriters, and a few of the lyrics spoke so deeply to me. About weathering the storm and getting through difficult times in life.

Try to ease my troubled soul. 
Try to weather this storm.
Grab on tight and just hold on to me.

Failure has never been a choice
And now I'm singing out my voice.
I'm seeking shelter in the sounds, it's never let me down.
I'm seeking refuge in a friend who reminds me, once again, that I will bend but never break.

That is something that I have to remember.
I will bend but never break.

Grab on tight and just hold on to me.

To Be Soldiers For Each Other

When you get worried, I'll be your soldier.

This song.  I have written about it before.  It used to always make me sad, as I yearned for another soul like mine who could be my soldier. My peers, who I would typically lean on, always seemed to miss the depth of this and how this concept of being someone's soldier runs so strongly in my blood.

Where did all the people go? They got scared when the lights went low.

When I've needed a soldier, I haven't gotten one.  I've had to be my own soldier. My own warrior.  When life is easy and fun, look at all these people in your life who are around.  Which of those people understand your own personal struggles?

Funny when times get hard, at the last moment when you're supposed to charge. Always on the longest yard, they feel their feet get cold.

Sometimes life gets unattractive, embarrassing, humiliating. Sometimes we have to go through things that we are ashamed of or uncomfortable with. Sometimes we hurt. Sometimes we are afraid. Sometimes we experience pain that makes us wonder if we can ever overcome it.  Our hearts break, our bodies disappoint us, our souls yearn for a kindred spirit who understands. We experience trauma, loss. Why do people run away from that?

Afraid of what they might lose.  Might get scraped or they might be bruised. You could beg them, but what's the use? That's why it's called the moment of truth.

Why does the moment of truth have to reveal, time and time again, that they don't understand and don't charge with you when times get hard. You shouldn't have to ask.  When I can see that someone I love needs someone to be a soldier for them, I do it. I don't make you wonder if I would be trustworthy and then make you beg me to help you. No. I'm already there, carrying you as much as you'll let me.

Hiding here, hiding there.  Find them underneath the stairs. People hiding everywhere, trying to be as still as a stone.

I know what it feels like to see the people around you hiding from your pain. Watch them not understand, and as a result feel so alone in a crowd. To feel so judged. I felt like everybody would hide from me when life got un-pretty and rough. They got cold feet. Afraid of what they might lose if they involve themselves in my pain. That was my moment of truth. Who would take my pain when I was hurt? When I run out of strength myself, where can I pull more strength from?  Who is my soldier?

I'll get it, if you need it. I'll search if you don't see it. You're thirsty? I'll be your rain. You get hurt, I'll take your pain.

I would rather feel that pain with you than miss out on being your soldier, and making you carry it alone. I would rather get scraped and bruised in the mess with you than leave you behind without a warrior to charge with you.  And you wouldn't have to beg me, either. In said moment of truth, I will be there with you and I will fight for you. I will choose to accept the truth and the reality of how much pain, suffering, and fear life can bring us, and I will embrace it and carry it with you.  I would do any of those things, because that is real.  I can't and won't ignore it and cover it up and put it in a pretty wrapped box with a bow on it and pretend the pain doesn't exist.

My aim is so true. I want to show you. I'll try forever, and I'm never going to say surrender.

This song used to make me sad, but it doesn't anymore.  Not when I trust that there is a soldier out there who understands me, accepts me, and will some day stand by me for anything.  And in any moment of difficulty and pain, I will get to be your soldier too.

Wherever you are and whenever you will be here, we will be strong for each other. And my aim, I promise you, is truer than true.

For the days I'm afraid I won't have.

This isn't something that I can just sit down and write about to get meaning across  But I'm doing it anyway or else I'll continue feeling like I can't breathe.  Alone in this house, I'm just sitting here in the dark at a loss.   I feel like all I can hear is a deafening silence in this room that makes me have to feel my cries so explicitly as the sharp daggers that they are.   I'm not afraid of crying.   But it's the truth behind the sobs that makes my heart ache so much.

Am I about to lose my best friend?  If I am about to lose this person who I have come to love and care for, I am completely and utterly powerless. All I have is this heart filled with all these things I want to say and can't because he's not here, and because what's more important is his own state of mind going into such a big thing.  In order to make it about him, it has to not be about me.

I'm sitting here trying to muscle through each moment, breath by breath, second by second, feeling completely heartbroken at even the slightest chance that I won't see him again. I'm crying and through my tears trying to get my heart onto paper with nothing short of mediocre words, and virtually leaning on my friend Jessica across the country for the love and warmth my heart so desperately needs, while I flounder in the fear of what could happen.

I've had a lot of loss in my life.  Unexpected goodbyes forced through circumstances that tore my heart out.  Loss of a good friend, a family member, a loved one.  I can't breathe at the thought of losing this one.

And while I sit here I realize I'm totally alone and the one person who would understand is him.

I yearn for the day this becomes a distant memory, the day I can just be in front of him and say everything I need to, the day I can stand here and know that he will be okay, and for the day that somehow, in a some way, I can be for him all that he's been for me.

To Everyone Who Has Anxiety, Me Too.

I'd like to share an article I wrote about my experience with anxiety. As a freelance writer and in an effort to raise awareness of mental illness and the mental health community, I decided to publish it here in hopes that it will speak to others.  You are not alone!

"To Everyone Who Has Anxiety, Me Too."
Written by Hannah Miller on 12/27/16

I know what it's like to live with anxiety.

Now that I know what it's like, and what it actually is, I can see where it had shown up throughout my life. I see the many different moments of anxiety I have experienced throughout childhood, teenage years, and into adulthood.  At the time, I just thought it was how everyone felt in those situations. 

Crippled by fear, frozen in one place while your mind paces endlessly, stomach nerves raging, heart rate rising and hands shaking. The more you try to fight it, the more aggressive it strikes. It is a full on body-trembling, soul-twisting voice of panic and fear. It makes you question your own reality, sanity, and identity. It makes you feel out of body, out of mind, and out of control.

It's the feeling you get in your belly, the jolt of shock, when you step off the side of a curb that you didn't know was there. Only it is constant, and coursing through your whole body like waves of debilitating pain and adrenaline.

This was just a normal stress response, I thought. 

I didn't know to reach out, didn't know that I could. For so long I thought I was just insecure and didn't know how to cope.

But that could not be further away from the truth.  The reality is that I didn't know it was because of a chemical imbalance in my brain.  I didn't know it was because of a learned response of behavior from my environment.  I didn't know parts of this illness can be genetic.  I didn't know anything. Most importantly, I didn't know it was not my fault, that it was not a character or personality flaw, and that it should be taken as seriously as a physical illness should. 

After suffering with chronic illness for 4 years and many different life events, my anxiety had soon become a living nightmare.  Others talk of taking it day by day, but I soon had to take it moment by moment, breath by breath. Sometimes, doing even just that seemed so impossible. When those feelings became so devastating that I could barely function, sleep, or eat, I knew I needed help.

It wasn't until I was 24 years old that I called it by its name and began the process of learning how to lovingly navigate this life with mental illness.

Now I know it's not a character flaw.  It's not that I can't cope.  Anxiety is NOT who I am, but something I live with and learn to navigate.  It does not mean I am out of control.

I know what it's like to live with anxiety, and I know now that I can still love myself deeply despite the insecurities, doubts, and fear that the voice of anxiety brings to my life.

I know what it's like to feel alone, like you are the only one who has to be strong, the only one who gets it. 

I know what it's like to search, and yearn, and struggle to find the empathy you know that you deserve from those around you. Just someone, anyone, who can love you through your despair and authentically understand what you're going through. Someone who at least would not judge you for the anxiety you experience and how that makes you different than those who don't know what it's like.

I know what it's like to feel lost, afraid of the anxiety, wondering and worrying if it can get any scarier, any worse, if you can feel any more defeated, small, and insecure than you do right now.

I know what it's like to live with anxiety.

I am here to tell you, me too. 

Hearing "me too" from others during my roughest years of panic attacks and anxiety was what I needed and what truly got me through the darkest of days. While I have worked on many years of self care, with counseling, psychiatry, medication, massage and yoga, meditation, and a huge toolbox of self care activities, nothing has helped me as much as a loving voice of empathy letting me know I'm not alone.

Hearing "me too" from another person suffering from mental illness means more to the heart than just two words at face value. 

Hearing "me too" means you're not alone. It means there are others out there like you.  It means you're not going crazy with irrational fear or worry, but instead you're a freaking warrior battling an all out mind-war and rallying to make a decision every day to choose loving yourself over believing the lies that anxiety feeds you. It means that even when you feel like you fail, you are not a failure.

You are not your anxiety.

Hearing "me too" means that while you feel like you're drowning in a sea of anxiety, there is someone who has been there and can inspire you to dig deep and find the skills to swim better than you ever have. Hearing "me too" can be the difference between feeling defeated and being victorious.

Ever since I have heard the words "me too", I've felt empowered to not suffer in silence, but to instead suffer together with others who have a mental illness so that we, together, can be warriors. Together, we can be the mighty warriors that help each other to remember who we are, and how to distinguish the difference between our own voices and anxiety's, even when we've forgotten.

To everyone who has experienced that unending dreadful nervousness in the pits of their stomachs...

To everyone who knows what it's like to feel like it takes every ounce of your being to pull yourself out of a panic attack...

To everyone who has ever felt alone, scared, judged, threatened, or anxious...

Me too.  And you are not alone.   

To stop being strong.

This is the first time I've cried, for myself, in a long while. I'm tired of being strong. I try, I try so hard. I know we are entitled to days where we feel weak, defeated, beaten down, or even just downright overwhelmed with things in life. But day to day I make the choice to set aside those things and choose to feel peace and happiness while I exude joy and positivity instead.

But today, I just can't.

It started out that way, but ended with e feeling just completely exhausted of it. I got some things in the mail I've been waiting for that I should be excited about and motivated to feel good. I have gotten some health issues under control and am not longer on medications, just natural supplements, and I should feel good about taking them and happy and thankful to have them and all the other help I have with my health. That is a great step.

But instead I feel angry, bitter, and discouraged about my health and that I can't be like everyone else right now. I can't eat whatever I want, or do whatever I want. Sometimes, and definitely when my autoimmune issues flare up, my life revolves around what I can and cannot do because of my illness. Today is one of those days where I'm just sick of fighting against my body as it fights against me. Because I hurt all over. I can't talk about it to anyone because it just sounds, and probably comes across, like I'm weak, complaining, or making excuses for myself. When in reality I am in serious pain 24/7 and it's a daily, constant struggle. This isn't something I can just "push through" or "get over". Because don't you think if it was, I would've by now? If I can will power the hell out of this, I would and it would've happened a long time ago. It's so much more complex than that and the more I try to reach out and explain that, the more push back I've been getting. The more judgment. Scrutiny. Condescending comments. It's just exhausting.

Coming up next on my list of battles today is my resultant anxiety over this and other things in my life. I'm thankful that in this moment right now, the anxiety is not fully taking over. But with it comes sadness and grief as I come to the realization that it will never go away completely. It's all just up to me to react to it differently.  In moments of fatigue and full panic, that can sometimes feel impossible. Today it's not, but instead I feel a frustration and grief that I have to deal with those moments in the first place along with my chronic illness. The emotions take over and I cry. It does feel better to cry, but it's painful to know this is my battle and mine alone, and while I do reach out and advocate frequently, I often feel secluded and alone with myself, knowing that only I truly understand how I feel.

These things I work through in life are only exacerbated by the smaller things. The smaller things that in my opinion shouldn't even be an issue or be here in any way. The smaller things, however unneccesary, are always made worse by the current pain and anxiety. It makes the smaller things bigger because I want so badly for things to, at the best of our ability, remain as it was this morning. Enthusiasm. Excitement. Joy. I know it's not realistic to have that all the time, but when it switches so fast to a more negative energy for absolutely no reason it is so extremely taxing on me. There are enough difficult things in life that happen, making things stressful and hard. But, this negative energy for no reason? Why? It's a waste of energy, a waste of opportunity for happiness and laughter, and a complete waste of time that could be spent in better ways.

Being in this weak point makes everything hurt and ache. Physically, and emotionally. Feels kinda like broken inside. While I know it will pass as it always does, I still hate it.

I am annoying. I am frustrating. I hold people back.

Those words cut so deep.  Why? I think because I don't ever want to do things that evoke such irritation or frustration in somebody else.  I am so empathetic and aware of the emotions of others that I do put their feelings and needs before my own in moments of distress or difficulty or in conflict.I have the best and most loving intentions in the world. I don't poke purposely. I don't annoy purposely. But yet somehow, when I'm being totally me and in my mind carefree and enjoying life, unfiltered, authentic, unafraid... I become perceived as something entirely different. And I'm always the last to know. I get snapped at, judged, and then inevitably become deflated and defeated.

We are all human. We all make mistakes. We all can seriously annoy each other. We are all imperfect and I am okay with that.

What I fail to understand is why I am never graced with patience. An open mind. Understanding. Rather than shut down by someone else's opinions of frustration. I will always take the feelings of other people in consideration and I take them seriously. I adjust and make efforts to swing it around to the positive side and change my behavior, but that just seems to make it worse.

On top of it all, I have a considerable amount of stress and concern for Noah, his mom and family and their wellbeing, and the affect it all has on my own health as well as how to navigate it all.  I try to support but it goes either unnoticed and unappreciated, or is just one more thing to annoy.

So here I am in the kitchen. Waiting for my homemade applesauce to cool. About to open my packages that came in the mail. Try my vitamins and supplements. Savoring my keyboard and my ability to write. With a tear streaked face and puffy eyes and just a desire to crawl into a corner, curl up, and ignore everything to allow myself to shut down a moment and stop trying to be so strong. And most of all, to just be okay with that.

A mutuality to long for

And this is when reality sets in.  That no life or love or situation can ever be as solid as you hope it to be.

I understood that to begin with, honestly. But when everything points that way for the good beginning portion of what's being built, just to have the solid faith be shaken so much so fast is crippling to that joy.

It changes my day-to-day peace.   My hope along the way is to not become resentful.

The main question that runs through my mind all too often now is, what did I ever do to be so unworthy of the truth, no matter how big or small?

I think I've done my part.  Communicated what's important to me and how I want to live, what my relationship and life policies are.  When it's honored by words and not action, I get so sad.  Because it's so unexpected and stings deep.

These values I hold dear to me are values I've always wanted to share mutually with someone.
Maybe someday..

For Drew

The world is a smaller, emptier, dimmer place without you Andrew Davis.

Not everybody who walks this earth makes such a significant and lasting mark on the souls they meet. But you surely and inescapably did.

Whether someone had briefly met you, had been friends with you like I had, or had been one of your closest friends or family members... we all know, you were something special, and unlike anyone.

These words are as much for me as they are for you and everyone else. You've affected all of us with the beauty of your life, and now with your passing there is a chasm in our hearts that will never again be filled. Because you filled that with your laughter, your good heart and solid ground of what it means to truly LIVE LIFE and be a great man.  

We miss you.

I'll never, ever forget the significant memories you've given me in our 10 years of friendship.

High school. You brought me out of my shell  freshman year when you made fun of how little I talk. Pointing at me with a skeptical look on your silly face.  "Hannah, you! You don't say much do you. " 

You shared your confidence and strong spirit with me. 

And then after high school, through the working years and many memories of summers filled with bonfires and guns and trucks and great music and beer. Memories of day drinking on Memorial Day. Lotsssss of chips and salsa at Chihuahua's. Endless roaring laughter on the couch, making fun of everything and nothing. Funny facebook chats that would make me roll over laughing. Late night pita pit after a night out at Bellingham bar and grill with a constant flow of sarcastic comments on how much you dislike downtown and love Ferndale. 

But, the best was when you finally gave in and told me I was one of the only girls to hang around you who could keep up with your witty sarcasm. We had a long line of sassy remarks and comebacks going back and forth and you never missed a beat. I remember one time I got the last word in. Believe it or not! "Hannah! Ouch! You're good!"

I think you're the reason my friends can't take me seriously sometimes.

I believe that's one of the greatest lessons you taught me. Don't take life too seriously. Especially don't take yourself too seriously. It's all about the love and the laughter. 

The last time I saw you, you nearly spilled your beer with your hands up high yelling my name and heading over for a big bear hug. You had a drink in each hand and gave me one of them so I wasn't empty handed. Only you could get me to drink that nasty Busch Light. ;)  

We all as a community and family feel like we are suffocating without your presence. Over time I know the pain will pass, but rest assured... the memories will never pass. Your profound meaning in our lives will last forever.  In the meantime heaven, you better know how truly blessed and lucky you are to have Drew. Because we all sure felt that way when he was here with us. And still now, with you being gone, I still feel blessed to have known you and called you a friend.

Say hello to Travis and Chelsea for us. 

We love you Andrew Davis. Your legacy of life is engrained in our hearts forever.  

To cry from happy.

There is this beauty that reveals itself when everything falls together how it always should have. When efforts are not given in vain. When desires line up with result and my world is perfectly aligned with the deepest desires of my heart.  It's a beauty I don't just see but also can feel.  And I feel it with such a strength, such a passion and a significance that I get tears. 

I guess this is what it feels like to cry from being so happy.

For so long I wandered and ran searching for what I have now. For the kind of peace, love, and joy that I experience on a daily basis. Almost feeling like I'm pushing against some invisible current or barrier that was stopping me. In fact I know what some of this barriers were and knowing I was able to crush them under my feet and become different and better is a feeling like no other. 

Now here I am. Amidst pain, struggle, and trials of life, I have this peace, love, and joy that surpasses all other difficulties. I'm writing, I'm learning, I'm loving, I'm playing music, I'm working, I'm growing, and I'm happy.

To me that is true happiness. What was missing is no longer missing. 

I could make a list of so many things that I have in this life that are no longer missing and that have been for so long. 

A home. A secure job. My joy of following dreams and goals I've always had in my heart. An inner peace and understanding and identity that is stronger than ever. A love that is going where it deserves to go, to someone who deserves every aspect of it because he is worthy of this love.

To say life is good wouldn't cut it, but... Life is so, so good. 

On relief and love.

I couldn't be more overwhelmed with amazement and awe right now.    

The worst part of this move is done. 

Christmas shopping and scrambling is done. 

The nightmare of the last few nights is done. 

The emotionally charged reaction to the craziness is done. 

And now, as I lay comfortably, eagerly, and excitedly on the bed of all beds..

This long wait is almost done, too. 

Hurry up, time!  

Best of all, I am completely astounded and amazed at the goodness of this heart I love. And the people in my life. And the ever growing admiration and love that I have in my own heart, evolving and growing even when I thought it couldn't anymore. My heart can't contain what I feel for this soul I love so much, it spills out over everything I do and touch and say and think!   

They say... A true person in your life is the one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out. Well, that's this. 

Ahhh. 

This serendipitous perfection is not mere coincidence, but completely preordained felicity. 

And I am thrilled. 

 

Everything is gold.

My life is gold. 

My joy. 

My loved ones. 

My career. 

My soldier. 

My friends.

My church.  

My goals. 

My life. 

My future. 

My music, art, books, ambition, dreams, my whole life. Love. 

I am swimming in pure gold and feel like the richest woman on earth. 

The uninhibited version of me.

Seeing as how this will be my very first piece of publishable (or gosh, maybe non-publishable?) writing as a 25 year old, I thought I would do it differently.  

Unplugged, unrestricted, unedited, uninhibited.  My life undone, unanalyzed, unjudged.  And now I'm making up words as I go.

To be 25 is like to be finally fitting comfortably into my own age. When I was 17, I felt like I was 20 with 12 year old restrictions.   When I was 21, I felt much older.   Now I'm 25 and while I've made jokes about being in a "quarter life crisis", I'm really not.  I'm more just, undoubtedly feeling the most comfortable, alive, and at home in myself than I ever have. It's like I've finally arrived where I've wanted to be for years and now I'm in the journey I've always wanted to be in.

I wouldn't say I had lost myself along the way. In fact, I was always soul-searching yet I always knew who I was at the same time.  The difference now is, I am unrestricted and uninhibited.  Within myself.  I'm not allowing circumstances, situational experiences, or events change me.  Everything in life shapes who we are and how we react to things, but I'm not letting any of these superficial outside influences change me.  That's the difference.  Instead I'm choosing to always be who I've always been, to always act, do, and say what I always know I want to act, do, and say. From the deepest parts of me, my soul and heart, I am letting it out without any fear of repercussion or consequences.  I'm not going crazy, but I'm not hiding behind myself anymore. 

To me (and this is what I've truly realized this last year), the consequence of not living, or living for what you don't believe in, or living for something else other than your own heart's desires, is so much scarier than choosing to live, breathe, and feel through all of it, even if that could be painful. 

I have always been looking for ways to not disappear, and this is it.

Of course I'm afraid of hurt and pain and loss and abandonment. What human being isn't? Of course I don't want those things. But I'm not letting the fear of them dictate my choice of feeling something. 

I've said goodbye to indifference and apathy, I've said goodbye to that inhibition. I couldn't describe that feeling adequately enough with what the English language offers for vocabulary if I tried. Instead, I show it in my actions. My freedom in living, my overflowing heart, my complex soul. My life. 

In everything I do, I do it for feeling, love, and meaning. Holding fast and staying true to that means I don't disappear. I never want to disappear again and me, unrestricted, unjudged, and uninhibited gets to give this to other souls who have felt disappeared. 

This is me. The uninhibited version of me. And world... I hope you're ready for me.