I worry sometimes that I will never be what I really dream. Like, what I deeply dream for my psychological, core being. I have my career and family aspirations, but there is a part of me that wants to live such a basic, care-free lifestyle. I feel that my true self is uninhibited, confident, peaceful, full of love and in-touch with the world around me. I feel deeply spiritual when I am in touch with the earth, yet I am often afraid of judgement when I want to express that side of me. I want to be able to dance when I feel like it, run through the woods and hear the wind whisper to me. I want to feel dirt underneath my bare feet. I want to feel the buzz in the back of my brain that sends shivers down my body when I connect to the earth. When I feel this overwhelming sense of power beyond myself and I feel rays of energy wafting off my being.
....But I often feel so disassociated with that part of myself. I feel that I don't recognize who that person is although she's always in the back of my mind, a wispy vision of a true part of me I'm too scared to see. My heart feels too dark, too worn, and too sad. My lungs can't seem to breathe the air deeply enough to give me the energy to be where I need to be. I feel to heavy with the burdens of expectations, of school, of family, of relationships...I'm scared I'm doomed to be judged my entire life. I'm scared that I will lack the confidence and surety in myself to not care. The weight of disapproval from loved ones weigh on me. It feels like I'm always breathing in heavy, noxious gas. Even when I am light with feelings that things are okay, a subtle reminder crashes me back to earth. Is this going to be me my whole life? Am I just going to have to face that my earthly existence will be this looming cloud of depression, and that all my decisions will be marred by it?
I'm not sure if I'll ever get to where I want to be. I try to keep perspective most days. I try to continually love and serve, despite my fears and anxieties. I figure my depression IS ME right now,and I will forever be a changing person. I'm sure there will be time where love is all I feel--for people, for the earth, for the future, and most importantly, for myself...
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Friday, November 16, 2012
Each Coming Night
*Disclaimer--This post happened way back in October, the 12th to be exact. Distractions and other things kept me from finishing it!*
I had a dream last night.
I woke up and wrote it down as a text message and sent it to Brian so I wouldn't forget it.
I dreamt I was hiking the Chilkoot trail again. Instead of it being a real trail, it was just a big, long staircase reaching to the heavens. I don't remember all of the dream, but I remember scrubbing a dirty mattress on that staircase so I could cradle people I meant to hold on there. I dragged people I loved to the top, although I don't know who they were in the dream. When I reached the top, my old RM roommate was at the top. I started crying and panting, telling her how hard it was. I had made it, but it was so very hard! She waved her hand at me as if to dismiss me, as if to say that what I did was no big deal, and she turned to greet the next few people who came up behind me. I turned away feeling cheated and hurt that she didn't care; that my experience wasn't worth talking about.
The dream morphed into me going into work. We were let out early because of a storm, and I came out of the mall to dark clouds, lightening, wind, and dust kicking up around me. I saw a tornado touch down near my car, and I knew with urgency that I had to get home to make sure Rachel, Jon, and Chai were okay. I rushed to my car, although I feared the tornado was too close and that it would suck me up along with my car. Fortunately, it was moving past me as I got to my car. I tried to drive as quickly as I could, but there was traffic, people running in front of me, trees getting blown over...
All of a sudden I was on my feet, and I was running home with a pack on my shoulders. But I couldn't run. My legs were moving in slow motion, as if I were underwater. In my dream, I figured that I could do nothing about my legs moving so slowly, and I just had to focus on getting home.
As I kept walking, I found more people who were just like me, searching for loved ones. We teamed up and walked together, but as the journey progressed, I realized they were not to be trusted. Every time we took a rest, the group would try to take my pack to steal the contents. I knew not what was in my pack, only that I had to protect it. I tried to run away from them, but my slow legs only carried my just out of reach of them. I threw rocks and pipes at their faces, filled with so much rage and only wanting to hurt them. They never hit their mark. In my dream, I abandoned trying to deflect them and ran as fast as I could, knowing that if I could just get home to Rachel and Jon, they would protect me. As I neared the house, however, I found that I was walking completely normally. There was relief at first, then panic as I realized that my pack was gone. I turned and ran back to get it, thinking, "I just need my keys-they can have whatever they want, as long as they don't take my key!"
When I neared the group, they were all sitting in a circle, munching and sharing the contents of my bag. Although I had first thought that I only needed my keys to the house, heartache and desperation filled my whole being. I was so hurt, I tried to smash the people's faces into each other. I grabbed onto the necks of the shirts and tried to throw them, but they moved as if they were in water, too. They were heavy, slow, and merely bounced off each other. All the while I was screaming, "Don't, I paid for that! It's mine, it's not yours, please!" As I turned to look at the group, my brother-in-law Jon was sitting down with the rest of them, eating the contents as well. He chuckled as he said, "I really shouldn't be doing this." I felt betrayal so intensely, I woke up blinking away tears.
Woodkid--Baltimore Fireflies
What are the words that I'm supposed to say?
Your white skin, swirling fireflies.
Darkness has surrounded Baltimore bay.
Why don't you open your blue eyes?
Are they things that water can't wash away?
How can your absence leave no trace?
As I let you sink in Baltimore bay.
I drown myself deep in disgrace.
What is the price, am I supposed to pay?
For all the things I try to hide?
What is my fate, am I supposed to pray?
That trouble's gone with the sunlight?
A warm sun rises and ignites the bay.
I come back home and start to cry
I'll never come back to Baltimore bay.
Try to forget the fireflies.
What are the words that I'm supposed to say?
If someone knew about this lie?
If your body rises to the surface?
Through the silence of fireflies
I had a dream last night.
I woke up and wrote it down as a text message and sent it to Brian so I wouldn't forget it.
I dreamt I was hiking the Chilkoot trail again. Instead of it being a real trail, it was just a big, long staircase reaching to the heavens. I don't remember all of the dream, but I remember scrubbing a dirty mattress on that staircase so I could cradle people I meant to hold on there. I dragged people I loved to the top, although I don't know who they were in the dream. When I reached the top, my old RM roommate was at the top. I started crying and panting, telling her how hard it was. I had made it, but it was so very hard! She waved her hand at me as if to dismiss me, as if to say that what I did was no big deal, and she turned to greet the next few people who came up behind me. I turned away feeling cheated and hurt that she didn't care; that my experience wasn't worth talking about.
The dream morphed into me going into work. We were let out early because of a storm, and I came out of the mall to dark clouds, lightening, wind, and dust kicking up around me. I saw a tornado touch down near my car, and I knew with urgency that I had to get home to make sure Rachel, Jon, and Chai were okay. I rushed to my car, although I feared the tornado was too close and that it would suck me up along with my car. Fortunately, it was moving past me as I got to my car. I tried to drive as quickly as I could, but there was traffic, people running in front of me, trees getting blown over...
All of a sudden I was on my feet, and I was running home with a pack on my shoulders. But I couldn't run. My legs were moving in slow motion, as if I were underwater. In my dream, I figured that I could do nothing about my legs moving so slowly, and I just had to focus on getting home.
As I kept walking, I found more people who were just like me, searching for loved ones. We teamed up and walked together, but as the journey progressed, I realized they were not to be trusted. Every time we took a rest, the group would try to take my pack to steal the contents. I knew not what was in my pack, only that I had to protect it. I tried to run away from them, but my slow legs only carried my just out of reach of them. I threw rocks and pipes at their faces, filled with so much rage and only wanting to hurt them. They never hit their mark. In my dream, I abandoned trying to deflect them and ran as fast as I could, knowing that if I could just get home to Rachel and Jon, they would protect me. As I neared the house, however, I found that I was walking completely normally. There was relief at first, then panic as I realized that my pack was gone. I turned and ran back to get it, thinking, "I just need my keys-they can have whatever they want, as long as they don't take my key!"
When I neared the group, they were all sitting in a circle, munching and sharing the contents of my bag. Although I had first thought that I only needed my keys to the house, heartache and desperation filled my whole being. I was so hurt, I tried to smash the people's faces into each other. I grabbed onto the necks of the shirts and tried to throw them, but they moved as if they were in water, too. They were heavy, slow, and merely bounced off each other. All the while I was screaming, "Don't, I paid for that! It's mine, it's not yours, please!" As I turned to look at the group, my brother-in-law Jon was sitting down with the rest of them, eating the contents as well. He chuckled as he said, "I really shouldn't be doing this." I felt betrayal so intensely, I woke up blinking away tears.
Woodkid--Baltimore Fireflies
What are the words that I'm supposed to say?
Your white skin, swirling fireflies.
Darkness has surrounded Baltimore bay.
Why don't you open your blue eyes?
Are they things that water can't wash away?
How can your absence leave no trace?
As I let you sink in Baltimore bay.
I drown myself deep in disgrace.
What is the price, am I supposed to pay?
For all the things I try to hide?
What is my fate, am I supposed to pray?
That trouble's gone with the sunlight?
A warm sun rises and ignites the bay.
I come back home and start to cry
I'll never come back to Baltimore bay.
Try to forget the fireflies.
What are the words that I'm supposed to say?
If someone knew about this lie?
If your body rises to the surface?
Through the silence of fireflies
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Pilot
I've wanted a blog for a while now. I hate writing in my journal, I get impatient with my racing mind and lethargic hand. I felt intimidated with the prospect of starting an on-line journal that people may or may not see. I didn't want to be someone who got obsessed over their blog or got too worried over whether people read it or not. I feel that especially with having sisters who have superb writing skills. I came to this conclusion: this is MY mind and I will write MY words, whether or not people can understand or think that I have terrible writing. I need an outlet, you know?
I am a student of Public Health. I have no desire to do anything in it. My passion lies with midwifery and the birthing paradigm. I love studying birth. I love telling people about modern misconceptions, even if it means chasing them down the hall to make them listen (if you want to know more, I dare you to ask me). My most powerful, spiritual experiences have occurred while attending births; I can't imagine a more beautiful thing than watching a mother go through the hardest event in her life to bring a life into this world.
I have a twin sister on a mission in Taiwan whom I adore and hold in high esteem.
I live with my sister Rachel and her husband Jon, along with my unconditionally-loving nephew named Chai. I get to see them every day, and I have been blessed to have relationships that are strong enough to go to hell and back, instead of crumbling and rotting when offense is made/given. They are very loving people to me, and their wise counsel helps give me clarity in my life.
My boyfriend of two years is Brian, and I love him to death! He gives me a lot of comfort and courage when life gets hard. He's patient, quirky, and passionate. He is obsessed with music, the universe, and his family. Two years is a long time to get to know someone, and I'm always learning something new about my boyfriend.
My blog's title come's from my twin sister's band, "Searching for Celia". One night after visiting a friend in on campus, I came to Diana's band practice to pick her up so we may return to home for the night. Her band eagerly showed me a song they had made up on a whim. They had dubbed "Rave", and they wanted my approval They turned on their strobe lights, turned on the colored affects, and began. The song made me buzz with excitement, and I felt pumped with the way the band members moved together and felt the song as one. It was the first time I REALLY saw them perform as a band. When it was over, I SQUEALED with excitement! I couldn't stop gushing over how much I loved the song, and the band laughed at my joy. Over time, the song was renamed "Serendipity, Mary", in honor of me. I didn't even know what serendipity meant at the time, but seeing my name in the title was magical for me. I was worth remembering, and with fondness, too! I was special enough to have a song named after me! I felt like I had a part in something fantastic and big, even if I were not a real member of SFC. It gave me a bond to the band and to my sister. With time, after I looked up the definition of "serendipity", I came to understand that the song was very much a fortunate accident. Maybe (hopefully), this blog will be serendipitous for someone else.
Any whoo. Gush gush and more gushing. This is the song being performed by Searching for Celia.
I am a student of Public Health. I have no desire to do anything in it. My passion lies with midwifery and the birthing paradigm. I love studying birth. I love telling people about modern misconceptions, even if it means chasing them down the hall to make them listen (if you want to know more, I dare you to ask me). My most powerful, spiritual experiences have occurred while attending births; I can't imagine a more beautiful thing than watching a mother go through the hardest event in her life to bring a life into this world.
I have a twin sister on a mission in Taiwan whom I adore and hold in high esteem.
I live with my sister Rachel and her husband Jon, along with my unconditionally-loving nephew named Chai. I get to see them every day, and I have been blessed to have relationships that are strong enough to go to hell and back, instead of crumbling and rotting when offense is made/given. They are very loving people to me, and their wise counsel helps give me clarity in my life.
My boyfriend of two years is Brian, and I love him to death! He gives me a lot of comfort and courage when life gets hard. He's patient, quirky, and passionate. He is obsessed with music, the universe, and his family. Two years is a long time to get to know someone, and I'm always learning something new about my boyfriend.
My blog's title come's from my twin sister's band, "Searching for Celia". One night after visiting a friend in on campus, I came to Diana's band practice to pick her up so we may return to home for the night. Her band eagerly showed me a song they had made up on a whim. They had dubbed "Rave", and they wanted my approval They turned on their strobe lights, turned on the colored affects, and began. The song made me buzz with excitement, and I felt pumped with the way the band members moved together and felt the song as one. It was the first time I REALLY saw them perform as a band. When it was over, I SQUEALED with excitement! I couldn't stop gushing over how much I loved the song, and the band laughed at my joy. Over time, the song was renamed "Serendipity, Mary", in honor of me. I didn't even know what serendipity meant at the time, but seeing my name in the title was magical for me. I was worth remembering, and with fondness, too! I was special enough to have a song named after me! I felt like I had a part in something fantastic and big, even if I were not a real member of SFC. It gave me a bond to the band and to my sister. With time, after I looked up the definition of "serendipity", I came to understand that the song was very much a fortunate accident. Maybe (hopefully), this blog will be serendipitous for someone else.
Any whoo. Gush gush and more gushing. This is the song being performed by Searching for Celia.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)