This is what I'm most thankful for this year.

Well, more like this is who I'm most thankful for.

Forgive me for risking sounding like a broken record, but Clayton, Jay, Reafe, and Tunji are my angels on earth. This year, more than ever before it feels like, they have carried me when I didn't think I could walk. They have saved me from myself when I felt like giving up was the only option and couldn't see a way forward. They have held me up when I felt like I was collapsing and refused to let me go when they saw me slipping into that dark hole. 

No matter how isolated I've felt this year, I've always known that I had someone I could call or text, someone who would be there to tell me the truth of who I am and how much I am loved. They've let me vent about the same fears and the same stresses over and over again and never once gotten annoyed or tired of hearing it. They each encourage and push me in their own unique ways, and I can't imagine my life without each of them in it. 

Clayton is my spiritual/faith encourager. He's the one I can go to with all of my questions and fears and frustrations about God and know that even if he doesn't have any answers, he won't judge me. Conversations with him always help me work out struggles with my faith. Even if I'm not feeling God's presence anywhere else in my life, when I talk to him, I remember that God is here and God is alive, because I see God in Clayton. I truly have learned more about God from him than any church service I've ever gone to or could ever go to. 

Jay is my, stealing a quote from Hamilton, "look at where we are, look at where we started" friend. Because he has known me longer than anyone currently in my life, he has the unique ability to remind of how far I've come and grown, and he really knows what he's talking about. Because we've seen each other through so much, he's seen firsthand everything that I've overcome and uses that as his proof that I'm going to keep growing and keep moving forward. He reminds me that even if I feel stuck now, it's not going to stay that way, because it never has - I've always overcome. 

Tunji is the one who forces me to find the humor in life when I can't see past whatever hard thing is in front of me. That may sound like more of a distraction than an encouragement, but it's not. He has this instinctive ability to know when I need to laugh and has no shame about doing whatever is necessary is order to make that happen. And by making me laugh, he reminds me that there is always something light in the world. There is always joy to be found somewhere. I just have to be willing to look for it. Even if it's found in one of my best friends saying the most random, off-the-wall nonsense just to make me smile.

Reafe is the one who pushes me to hold on to positivity when that feels impossible. He is the first to remind me to choose joy when letting the pain win is the much easier option. He unashamedly reminds me of why he and others look up to me so much, and that, in turn, forces me to remember that there is good coming from all of this. Texts from him always remind me that as long as I'm alive, God is using me for something, and that it's going to be okay in the end. Even if I can't see it getting better right now, it's going to get better. 

The real, blunt truth? These four guys are the main reasons I didn't try to kill myself back in September, why I stopped and called for help when the thoughts first entered my mind. Because even though I thought at the time that their lives would be easier without me in the long run, I knew that I couldn't hurt them, and I know for a fact that losing me would devastate all of them. Their presence alone in my life, even though they are hundreds and thousands of miles away, reminds me that I matter to someone when I feel like my biological family only cares about what I can do for them, not actually about me. 

An exchange trip I wasn't supposed to be allowed to go on to a city more than 4000 miles away. A class I randomly joined for a Twitter experiment. A soccer team I never intended on meeting, let alone becoming friends with. I met all four of these guys in the most accidental ways, and now, they are the most important people in the world to me. That's God, y'all. That's all God.

I've said it a million times before, and I'll say it again: DNA doesn't make a family. Love does. The relationships I have with Clayton, Jay, Tunji, and Reafe are all the proof I need.

So yeah, if you were to ask me what I'm most thankful for this year, I would give you this answer without a second thought. It's these four guys right here. They are my angels, my saving graces, my four best and truest friends. Since I can't change my health issues, at least I have the comfort of knowing that I have people to help me get through them. I couldn't ask for anything better.

Here we go again.

Tuesday, I went back to my foot surgeon for my six month post-op visit. I was fully expecting this to be one of the rare times in my life where a doctor appointment would be smooth and uneventful. I've been having a bit more pain in my right foot since around the beginning of October, but I figured it was just because I spend so much time barefoot since I really don't leave the house much.

Well, this is what I get for assuming things.

After I got the x-rays, I was just hanging out waiting for my doc to come back in to talk to me about them, still not having a clue anything was wrong. When he came in, though, he was way more serious than he usually is, so I just said, "So what'd they say?" And I heard a sentence I have heard way too many times in my life.

"Well, can I just preface this by saying 'if it can happen, it will happen to you?'"

And my heart sank. Because you'll never guess what bizarre thing my body decided to do to me this time.

Remember how he put steel plates and screws in my foot in order to immobilize my big toe? Yeah, well, those broke in half.

Oh, yes, you heard me. I broke steel plates and screws in half without even trying. I'm like Wonder Woman, except way less cool.

My doc assured me that this isn't my fault, that he knows I did everything that I was supposed to do during recovery. He said he won't know for sure why they broke until he gets in there, but sometimes, shit just fails and the fusion doesn't take. Like he said, if it can happen, it will happen to me.

So yeah, I'm having surgery again. Number 28 for those keeping track at home. It's scheduled for December 29th, but the surgical coordinator said that she would call me if they got a cancellation because ever since my doc messed with my toe at my appointment, I've been in a lot more pain than I was beforehand.

I'll be honest. I've been angry. Really angry. My closest friends know that one of my biggest fears in life is that my life is never going to be anything but a cycle of constant doctors and health problems and surgeries, and this just felt like confirmation of that fear. Plus, it's so aggravating that just when I think I'm finally getting my feet back under me - I'm not sick anymore, and I changed one of my psych meds, so my depression was getting better - and could focus on job applications again, something else pops up that completely derails my life when all I want is to get my shit together and move out and be an adult. It feels like every day of my life is this constant battle, and I'm just so exhausted. It's like the universe is saying, "I'm going to keep punching you in the face until you absolutely lose your damn mind," and I'm on the brink. I really don't know how much God expects me to take, or why begging and pleading for refuge and a break from all of this pain leads to nothing but a continuation of me feeling abandoned and hurt and alone and exhausted.

But if there is one thing I know in the midst of all of this confusion and pain, it's that no matter how alone I feel, I am never without help. God has given me the most incredible support system of friends who, even with hundreds, in one case thousands, of miles between us, have shown up big time in the past few days to hold me up when I've felt like I couldn't stand one more second. I see God in my friends every day, in every conversation. And when I don't know what to say to God, when prayer feels impossible, their presence is a reminder that God is here, too. God sees me hurting and knows the pain I can't always express.

Am I still afraid? Yep. I was having nightmares just last night about this next surgery failing, too.
Am I still angry? Yep. I'm tired and don't want to do this anymore.
Am I still confused? Yep. I don't understand why I haven't been through enough.

But I am loved beyond measure. And I am not alone. At the end of the day, that's what matters.

God is so good.

First off, our air conditioning died this week. When you have a heat-triggered seizure disorder and the temperature is still in the 80s outside, that's a pretty big problem. BUT the tech who came to check things out and told us what was wrong called his company (who has worked with my grandma for as long as I can remember, pretty sure since before I was born) and they loaned me a stand-alone unit for my room for free for the week until we can get our house's A/C fixed, and it's also strong enough that with our fans, we can circulate enough air through the house to make it bearable. Plus, the weather is supposed to cool off a good bit for the next few days. PLUS, when my grandma found out, she didn't freak out. She was calm and told my mom that she could afford to fix it, and that it was her responsibility as the homeowner, so not to worry about anything. She was so chill I was kind of thinking "Who are you and what have you done with my grandmother?!" So yeah, all big praises there. Honestly, I was feeling pretty sorry for us at first...then, I remembered what's happening in Puerto Rico and the US Virgin Islands. So yeah, all big praises there.

But really, the main reason I wanted to write this post is because God has proven himself so good this week, beyond anything I could ever possibly even imagine I deserve. After how utterly broken and hopeless I felt last week, how close I was to giving up entirely, God has shown up so big and faithful. Love has been coming at me from every direction, including from the singer and the band who did that cover that helped give me the courage to call the Hotline, and it's like God has been saying "See? This is what you could have missed. People want you there. You're supposed to be there. I'm not done yet."

Sometimes, I feel so replaceable to people. Not because of anything that they do, but because I get it in my head that there's nothing I can offer that they can't get from someone else. Someone who isn't sick and tired and in frequent need of reassurance and almost always stressed out. But the five people (other than my therapist) who know the details of what really went down last week, everything that I was thinking that pushed me into that dark place last Thursday, they have made it so clear to me just how much they value me, how much they respect me and want me around, that it's hard to miss the lessons right in front of me. I'm not as replaceable as I think I am sometimes. I'm not as invisible as I feel sometimes. I'm nobody's charity project. Not anymore.

It's ridiculous that I'm still learning and re-learning these things after all this time, after all the times they've told me what they told me this week, but sometimes, I just need the reminder. And more than anything, I am thankful beyond words that I have a group of people who know the real, not-hiding-anything me, who see my scars and baggage, and they just aren't bothered by any of it. They aren't scared or annoyed by it. They are patient to tell me they love me and reassure me as many times as I need to hear it. They get that it's not that I don't believe them. It's just that I need them to remind me of the truth of how they feel when my mind starts lying to me. Because sometimes, it's next to impossible for me to shut down the lies in my head when they get started without someone else's voice there to help.

I'd be lying if I said I'm 100% back to myself now, but what I can honestly tell you is that last week, I didn't see a way out and thought I'd never find one; now, while I still don't really know what I'm going to do about a lot of things, I at least believe I can figure it out. And I largely attribute it to the people who have reminded me so clearly and loudly this week that no matter what happens next, I won't have to face it alone. I won't have to face anything alone ever again, if I'll just let them be here. If I'll believe them over the lies in my head.

God is just so good, y'all. When I lose sight of everything important, when I lose sight of Him, I start falling, but that's never the end of the story. I am surrounded by people ready and waiting to catch me. When I feel like the world is out to get me, they are there to make me feel protected. They help carry my burdens, they help carry me, when I forget how to breathe. And these five people that have been here this week, I met them all pretty much by accident. An exchange trip I wasn't supposed to be allowed to go on (and almost wasn't allowed to), a Religion class I joined to run a Twitter account, a soccer team I only met because the one player I knew insisted, and, of all things, a fan fiction website.  That's the kind of stuff that just makes you go ONLY GOD. There's not a doubt in my mind that He orchestrated all of that.

God is big enough and powerful enough to use anyone that He wants to. So while I'm not entirely sure if it was my friends' intention this week to make me feel really glad I'm still alive, God managed to make me feel that through their words, anyway. So hey, I'll take it.

Anyway, there's your friendly Friday night reminder that God is awesome, my friends make me feel so loved, and I'm glad I didn't hurt myself last week.

Tomorrow? Wolfpack game! Back to Carter-Finley for the first time in 4 years. I'm stoked.

A post about bullying.

When I was in third grade, Becky O'Neill called me stupid, because I wrote my Js backwards. I told her, "J's a hard letter. You never know whether to hook left or hook right." A right hook from Ashton Bellman in junior high was meant to swell me up and make my tiny nose normal-sized. At least, that's what he told me. And in high school, Ryan Mundy called me many things I dare not repeat but still replay in my head from time to time, all because I did theater instead of playing football.

Sticks and stones, right?

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words...A stone I can take. A quick break, yeah, that I can shake. And though you've never punched me in the face, every syllable you speak stabs through my spirit and hardens my heart. And though my hand makes the cut, your words are the accomplice, seeking to accomplish I know not what other than to bury some sense of loathing you have for your own self. I know you hate yourself so much; otherwise, you wouldn't be so obsessed with hating me more. No eye has seen and no ear has heard just how much I care about what you think of me, because I would never show anyone other than the darkness of my bedroom and tear-stained pillowcase. Just in case Mom and Dad could hear my cries, I suffocated my suffering in a cotton case grave and believed all the lies you told me about who I am, or what I would become, or whose fault it was. 

It got worse when your fingers started saying what your mouth was too cowardly to utter. Under the influence of your description of me, I learned to despise many things about myself, not because they're so bad, but because if I didn't have them, then you wouldn't have noticed them and be powerless to use them against me. The pricks and pins of pricks' opinions spins my whole sense of self out of whack, and so I shacked up in the safest place possible: on the island of invisibility, on the shore of "don't make any waves," at the corner of complacency and fitting in. I hide in the back country of cowardice praying you won't notice this insecurity factory I call a life, or a family, or a faith, or a body. And even today, I'm not lying when I say I could care less about what people think of me, because I could. I could care much, much less, because I still care a whole lot.

But you are not my source. You are not my well. If your opinion of me were the last cup of water in a desert, I would throw it in your face, and even though there's still a trace of the pain you caused, those scars are hard as armor and so faint that sometimes I can't even see them anymore. Because the sticks that used to harm me have been crossed, the stone that used to bruise me has been rolled away. Sticks and stones were your weapon, but sticks and stones are His way. So say all you want; a better Word has been spoken. Lie all you need to; a greater Truth has been revealed. Hold me back if you must, but my future has been sealed.

Sticks and stones, right?

-----

It's been a while since I've really thought about the bullying I experienced growing up. Progress, right? Well, then things like this poem come along, and I realize I've still got a lot more healing to do than I thought I did...and I've never been more thankful.

Most people know that I was bullied pretty intensely when I was a teenager, to the point where I was forced to leave the church I'd grown up in and spent the vast majority of my high school years contemplating suicide. I was surrounded by so many people telling me that I was unwanted and that I would never be loved that I became convinced that they were right. Even when I got to Campbell and met the people who proved they were wrong, became my family, and loved me at my lowest, my brain couldn't reconcile the truth in front of me with the lies that had been engrained deep into my soul.

I think I've gotten better at it over the years, but listening to this poem made me remember that those wounds are still very much a part of me and how I view the world and relationships. I still struggle to understand why people like me as much as they do and to accept the love that I know in my heart I deserve. I can't help but wonder how different my life would be now if I'd had words like Jon's to hear when I was younger, if I would have sabotaged so many friendships out of fear and shock.

I know the truth now. I know who I am as a person, as a friend, and in the eyes of God. I know how loved I really am. Just today, one of my friends from my neighborhood in NYC called me. He originally said he only had five minutes, but we ended up talking for nearly half an hour, and one of the last things he said to me was a reminder that I am never alone and never forgotten, even though it can feel that way being stuck in this town so far away from the people who know and love me best.

Let's be real: bullying sucks. I know that sounds obvious, but this is something that I think most people don't talk about because they're afraid to, or they're ashamed and they haven't fully recovered from the lies and the hate drilled into their heads. I think a lot of us get bullied, even the people we think are untouchable, the people we think have it all together and everyone likes. People are cruel sometimes, and while it'd be easier to say something cliché like "Why can't we all just be nice to each other?!", the reality is that we don't live in a utopia where that's possible. We're broken, and we hurt, and it's easy to take that hurt out on someone around you you see is vulnerable. I definitely was vulnerable and easy to attack, especially being in a small school where it was easy to be known for all the wrong reasons.

Words can break you. Physical wounds heal. The bleeding stops. The bruises and scars fade. The pain goes away. But mental wounds? They seep into your soul like red wine into a white couch that you have no idea how to get out, except you can't throw out this couch because you've only got one and you're stuck with it for life. So you scrub and scrub and pray that God will perform some miracle and it will go back to the bright white it was before, and some days you think it has, but other days, you look at it, and you notice the faint reddish-purple droplets still lingering and become convinced that it's all ruined, that you're ruined, and you might as well give up.

That's what happened to me. I became so convinced that I was too broken to be redeemed or ever be worthy of love that I stopped trying to find it, but more importantly, I pushed it away anytime I thought it was getting close. I hid. I tried not to be seen so I could avoid what I believed was the inevitable end of someone else telling me they hated me. But people like my soccer boys and my Reformation brothers, they saw me saying "no" and refused to take that for an answer. They made me their family when I didn't think I wanted them to and pursued me when I tried to run from them. They are the reasons I finally began to understand that maybe I am worthy of love, after all.

But ask any of them and they'll tell you the lesson doesn't always stick with me. I've said more times than I can count that I don't understand how I got so lucky to have them, and it's partially because it still seems so unbelievable that everything has changed so drastically. God used two groups of guys I never really intended on meeting to begin with to show me that His declaration of my worth is the final say. He is the voice of truth, and He tells a story completely opposite from what I grew up hearing and believing. It's like Jon says; my future has been sealed because my self-worth lies in a foundation that no person can ever shake. I know it's true because I actually trust people now. I'm not afraid of loving and being loved just because I've been burned or I've heard a lot of terrible things said about me. I stay determined to see the good in people because God sent me people who saw the good in me when I didn't see it in myself.

Do I remember the things bullies told me? Yep, pretty much every single one of them. Do they still sting? Yep, some days more than others. But do they define me? Not in the least. And that change in my perspective is 100% all God's doing through the Holy Spirit and His working through the people He's surrounded me with.

Praise be to God.

If you have scars from bullying (which, really, I think more of us do than we care to admit), go listen to Jon's new poem, "Sticks and Stones." It's embedded in this post. Bring tissues.

My People

I know I say this a lot, but if I didn't have my friends, I would go absolutely batshit crazy. Really.

Stuck here, if I didn't have people that I could text at the drop of a hat, even if it's just for a word of encouragement and a reminder that I'm not alone in this insanity, even when I feel like I am, I truly don't know how I'd make it. As much as I love my family, they are exhausting, in every sense of the word. I am so. tired.

That's why I'm so thankful for the people whom I chose and who chose me. They are the people who know me deep in my bones, with all my scars and flaws and insecurities, and love me just the same. They are the people who make time for our relationship, because they care and because it's important to them, too. They are the people who, despite being spread over literally thousands of miles, make me feel surrounded by love when I need it most. They are the people who support me unconditionally and who tell me I am enough - I don't have to try to be anything else.

I don't get that from my biological family most of the time, and that kind of love is something everyone deserves. The past couple weeks, it's been especially evident to me just how crucial it's been in my survival, especially from one person in particular. He's been so unbelievably good to me, despite having literally every second of his day taken up with work and stuff for his own life. He's still invested. He still cares about my life and is here as much as he can be. Just having someone to talk to can mean so much. I can't even properly explain it.

So yeah. I don't really have anything else to say. The past few weeks have been pretty boring, and I've been feeling pretty awful, both physically and mentally. But I'm thankful that in the midst of it all, God has helped me to keep an eye on one major constant blessing in my life.

My people. When all else fails, they are good, so so good.

On friends who leave and the ones who stay.

How's this for weird? Go a month and a half without posting, and then have two posts in less than twelve hours. I'm an enigma.

I've been awake all night for numerous reasons, one of them being the unexplainable outrageous heartburn that will not leave me alone even when I'm laying in my recliner, and considering it's now early the next morning, let's just say that I've got a lot in my head.

For some bizarre reason, I've been thinking about the friends I've lost in the past couple of years. Or should I say "friends," because as Clayton says, friends who leave you were likely never real friends to begin with.

It's funny how when certain people are in your life, you can feel so certain that it's a good friendship, a solid friendship. You can feel confident that this is a person you can trust and that they will be in your life for a long time. You can believe 100% that you've found someone special, you can be so grateful and consider them and the friendship such blessings, and then boom.

You find out you're wrong.

So wrong.

So heartbreakingly wrong.

I can think of four people in just the past year and a half that this has happened with. I'm not gonna name names; that's not important. One of them, I know that I screwed up, but they promised me that they just needed space and we weren't done for good - nearly 8 months later, and I'm having a hard time still believing that.

The other three, though? Not a clue. No fight. No explanation. I just woke up one day and they...weren't there anymore. Each time, I've gone through the same process of wondering what I did to make it happen, what is so wrong with me that I made them leave, before remembering the beautiful truth that their decision to hurt me and leave without a word is on them, not me.  With the last person, I'm still working through that process. It's really recent.

I am a sensitive person. I feel things very intensely. I am full of second chances. I have a very hard time letting go, even when the other person already has. I know all of these things about myself, as well as the trouble these characteristics have gotten me into. But you know what? I'm not sorry for any of them. They make me the friend that I am to so many people who love and appreciate me just as I am.

The problem is, though, it's that last trait I listed that leads me to this blog post. It's been seventeen months, eleven months, and nearly eight months, (and six weeks,) and these people are still in my head. Instead of focusing on the friends that are here and have shown me so much love and support, my mind gets caught up in thinking about these people who didn't want to stick around. If there's anything I've learned in the past few years, really since I met my soccer boys, it's that I am worth more than needing to beg someone to stay and be my friend. I have found my dignity. And so it's not that I want to go and beg these people to come back so much as it is that I just want to know what happened. That's what drives me nuts. The question-filled silence echoes in my head like a monster waiting to attack as soon as my world quiets down.

But you know how I also said that I am full of second chances? What does it say about my view of my own dignity to know that if any one of these people were to come back, explain what happened, and ask for a second chance, I would welcome them back with open arms? I can tell you that now, even though the chances of any of them doing so are slim. I hate losing people, and memories, and I think it's because I hold on to the memories of when things were good with me and these four specific people that I want to get back to that. When things were good, they were really good, and I naively never expected to be smacked in the face with just how flawed they (and people in general) are.

I know it's possible, though. I know that it's possible to restore friendships that seem hopelessly lost. I know that because that happened this year, too. Things between me and another friend fell apart in an incredibly painful fashion, and when we stopped speaking, I really thought that was the end. A good while later, however, I did what I pretty much always do and reached out because I missed them and wanted to see if the bridge was completely burned...and they called me back. And we talked. And we came to a new understanding in our friendship. Now, several months after that, we both agree that while the three months that we weren't speaking were something neither of us would choose to relive, it made our friendship stronger, and reminded us of why we became friends in the first place. Yes, my guard is up more than usual. No, I haven't completely forgotten everything that happened. But at the end of the day, when we talk, I can feel the bond that we have, the bond that withstood the pain and fights and frustration, the bond we always said no one could break. And I'm so thankful to have my friend back, even if it is a new and slightly different chapter.

So yes, I know it's possible for any or all of those four people to come back into my life, but as I've gotten older I've learned the dangers of getting my hopes up when so little in this life is actually in my control. And other people's thoughts and actions are about as far out of my control as something can get.

So in the meantime, I hurt.

And I grieve.

And I question how long I'm going to keep grieving and whether or not I should still be grieving.

But I also remind myself of all the incredible friends I do have in my life. The ones who have prayed for and with me as I have faced health scares and surgeries. The ones who pick up the phone when I need them, even if it's just because I need to hear someone say they love me. The ones who take time out of their day to make me laugh when they know I need it, or to listen to me vent and cry when there's nothing else they can do. The ones who lift me up with their words of love, encouragement, and grace. The ones who are still here, who see me with all my flaws and know that I'm loving them the very best I know how.

But most importantly, I remember the love that I carry with me every second of every day that cannot be replaced - the love of my Father. The God who made me as I am on purpose and for a purpose. The One who sees me as nothing less than His princess, a masterpiece made in His image, clean, righteous, and beloved. The God whom I don't have to impress. The Father who will never love me more or less, no matter what. The One in whom I find rest from the heartache. The Father who promises that He works all things for my good. The God who promises that in Him, and in a relationship with Him, He makes me enough, no matter what anyone else says.

Only God could orchestrate a friendship like this.

Well, so much for the whole not ignoring my blog thing. Oops. What can you do? I'm here now. But last night was a wonderful night that I want to remember.

This is Al. I met him through my buddy August because they're both bouncers at a bar down the block. We've only known each other for a couple of months, but it feels like from the very beginning we've just clicked. He's made me feel so completely safe in a way that most people don't realize is really hard for me to find. Even though until last night we'd only ever spent time in person together standing outside his bar, we've had this connection in talking to each other that can't be manufactured.

He's someone that just shines light. No matter what kind of day I'm having, if I go and see him, as soon as I look at him, and he smiles, I can't help but smile, too. Anyone who knows me knows that a great smile is my favorite physical feature on a guy, but it's so much more than that with him. He shines because of how much he loves people. It's just who he is.

Last night, we just met up for a drink and sat and talked for a little over an hour. I felt like time crawled in the best possible way because it did not feel like it had only been an hour when he had to leave. We talked about everything, our stories, our pasts, politics and my thesis, history, our friendship, more than you could possibly think one could fit in an hour. I think I must have been beaming the entire time. He just has that effect on me. And when we instinctively reached out and grab each other's hands multiple times while we talked, or when he insisted on holding my hand on the way back to my apartment, everything just felt so right and normal and safe.

The craziest thing to me is that he is one of the people I am going to miss the most from this city, yet of all the people I'm really going to miss, he's the one I've known the shortest amount of time. Some people just make sense in your life from the very beginning; it certainly doesn't feel like I've only known him for two months. I'm closer to him than 90% of the people I've met in the past two years. He has done so much good for me in such a short amount of time.

I firmly believe that only God could orchestrate a friendship that has formed and strengthened as quickly as this one has. And while I don't know what the future holds and if or when I'll come back to New York, I know for sure that I am so, so lucky to have found him.

And the best part is that while things are going to change not being able to see each other every week, I know that no matter where we are, this isn't going away any time soon. We've already promised that much, and he's a friend whose promises I can actually trust.

Smiles

I got to talk to my favorite British boy today.

And the best part is that he has a Mac now which means he has a webcam which means I actually got to see his face for the first time while talking to him in I don't even know how long.

But that's not even the really good part. The part that made me feel so good is that I think this is the first time all week that I've really smiled. And by "really smiled," I mean that I was happy enough to forget about everything else that has been weighing me down.

There's more than 3300 miles between us and it's been nearly 8 years since we've seen each other in person, but Jay and I still have this incredible bond that I'm so thankful for. Sure, we've had rough patches and times when we haven't spoken for a bit, but when we do, we just instinctively know how to help each other and what we need. It sounds weird to say this when we have so much time and distance between us, but he really is one of the people I trust most in this world, and I'm pretty sure he'd say the same. I truly don't know where I'd be without him. When I say that my friends are what keeps me going when things are hard, he's included in that.

It was only about 35 minutes today, but this did me so much good. And when I thanked him for taking time out of his incredibly busy schedule to get on and chat for a bit because it helped, he told me "anything for you."

I'm so thankful for my British love. I know that this bond is one for the ages. And that is a beautiful gift.

Love and Prayer

I made it through today without a seizure.

I think God knew how much I really needed to hear the sermon. It was on the power and importance of prayer.

And between today being Father's Day - and the fact that having my birthday, the anniversary of my dad's death, and Father's Day all in the same week can be emotionally draining - and having surgery tomorrow, I really needed to be in God's presence with my church family.

I was getting choked up during the sermon for some reason, and my friend Dorothea could tell something was up with me, so she just reached out and held my hand for the rest of the time Pastor Ben was talking.

But the most beautiful part of the day came after the service. A group of 9 or 10 of my friends literally surrounded me and covered me in prayer for my surgery tomorrow. The anxiety has been bad, so the fact that they were willing to do that meant so much. It was a beautiful reminder of not just how truly NOT alone I really am, but also of God's presence in the midst of all of this and with me as I head into surgery tomorrow. He showed me how much He loves me through them and the way they love me.

They are my people, and I am so lucky to have them. My prayer is now that I can love them (and others) the way that they have loved me. Deeply, selflessly, unconditionally.

24

So remember how at the beginning of last month I posted that the lady I'd been seeing in the Women's Health department of the Student Health Center was sending me to an OBGYN specialist/surgeon to be evaluated for endometriosis? Well, I finally got to have that appointment today.

Many times in the past when I've gone to a doctor for the first time, it was a fight to get them to listen to me and work with me instead of acting like they knew my body better than I did. So I was honestly expecting to go in and have to beg this woman to fully evaluate me and agree to do the surgery. It didn't exactly work out like that.

The whole appointment took like twenty minutes. No joke. First the PA came in, looked over the paperwork I had filled out, asked me like five questions, and then said that because I can't have an MRI because of my shunt, we should just go ahead and do surgery, so he explained the basics of the surgery and then said he was going to go get the doctor. A few minutes later, the nurse brought me into the doctor's office. I sat down, and she asked me if I had any questions about what the PA said or the surgery in general. I said no other than when could we do the surgery, and this is where it got a little hard.

She said that after looking at my file and listening to what the PA told her, she is really concerned about what could be going on and wants do to the surgery as soon as possible. So she told me she has an available slot on the 20th and wanted to know if I could get a medical clearance from my primary care before then. The 20th of June. As in less than two weeks away. She said to give her a few minutes and then she would come in and examine me, so I told her I'd go ahead and call and see how soon I could get in to get the medical clearance. Well, I guess because it's summer and most students are gone, but my doc who is usually very busy could get me in basically any time I was available Monday.

Then the doc came in, started examining me and asked if what she was doing was hurting and where. I said all over, and she stopped and basically said "Yep, you need the surgery." I put my clothes back on, walked out, got a folder of pre-admission info, was told someone would call me tomorrow or Monday with info about where and when I needed to be for pre-surgery bloodwork and whatnot, and then I was gone.

When I walked out of the building, I felt like my head was spinning because it all happened so fast. That, and I wasn't expecting them to be able to do surgery so soon. It took more than a month for me to even be seen because she is such a busy doctor, so I thought it would be a while before she had an open surgery slot. Nope. Second, I found out that the surgery is going to be more extensive than I thought it would be because they don't believe in using the lasers like I was expecting.

And also, despite the fact that I've done this so many times, it's still surgery. I like to put on a face for a lot of people that stuff like this is old hat for me and just doesn't bother me anymore, but it does. It bothers me. It's still hard and scary and overwhelming. This is the kind of thing that doesn't get easy to deal with no matter how many times you do it. So by the time I got in the cab to come back home, I was not in a great mindset.

Luckily, I had the forethought last night to have some of my brothers praying for me. So I texted two of them and called one, and long story short, I got pep talks that only my boys could give. When I got to spend close to half an hour on the phone with Tunji, we had each other laughing hysterically. Laughter really is the best medicine. Then I got a nice long FaceTime date with Clayton which is always good for the soul.

But after I got off the phone with him because we were both exhausted, the silence set in. And maybe it's just my 100% extrovert personality or the fact that silence is terrifying for this generation in general, but when I have too much silence, I get way too caught up in my head, and that's when things get ugly. After a couple hours, I was a mess. Enter this guy.

This is my buddy August. He's one of the bouncers at the bar on the block that I mentioned yesterday.  I jokingly like to call him "my knight in a shiny purple headband." He was Jesus in the flesh to me tonight and not only made me smile and laugh, but also helped me get back to a place where I could focus on the truth: God is good and faithful and loves me, and all of this is just one more chapter to add to the incredible story I've been given the chance to tell. He is one of those people that just shines the light of Christ without even trying because of how deeply and passionately he loves everyone he comes across.

God is good, y'all. God is so good. I'm so thankful that I am getting this surgery taken care of, but even more than that, I'm so incredibly thankful for all of the people who showed up today. Near and far, I am surrounded by people who are invested in me, in my physical and emotional wellbeing. These are the people who pick me up when I'm down and refuse to let me go when they see me slipping into the darkness. Second to God, they are the reason why I have the strength that people see in me. There's no way I could do any of this without my Father, but there's also no way I could do this without my people. They are my lifelines.

I'm going to bed tonight with a smile on my face, and ten hours ago, I don't think I could've thought that was possible. Thanks be to God.

A Day Worth Remembering

Somehow, I've lived in New York City for more than a year and a half, and this is the first time I made it here.

One World Trade and the 9/11 Memorial north and south pools. You can't understand how humbling and heartbreaking and moving it is to see these in person until you actually are there. I mean, I was 9 when 9/11 happened, so I remember that day, but it's one thing to know more than 3,000 people died in a matter of hours, and it's something totally different to see their names written out in front of you. So many names, written around the pools, I couldn't help but think about how we all knew that people died then, but not many of us actually knew people who died. But they were real people with families and loves and dreams and lives like the rest of us. What really got me, though, was this:

Someone stuck a white rose in the name of one of the people around the north pool (at least, I'm pretty sure it was the north pool, I may be wrong, though). Many of us hold dear the task of honoring the people who died on 9/11, but what is easy to forget is that they left families behind. Families who will forever grieve for the loss that hit them in one of the, if not the, most tragic ways possible. Prayers up for all those left behind.

Why did I go down there today? Well, I had a pretty legit reason.

Lauren is in town! Apparently 2016 is the year for me to meet longtime blog friends. She is in the city to see a show tonight, and since we've known each other for five years (at least!), we knew we had to work it out for us to get together even for a little bit. So this was the perfect excuse to see something new and meet this sweet lady! It's so fun to have online friendships come off the screen.

This is definitely a day worth remembering...for several reasons. :)

When the past isn't really the past.

I wasn't expecting to hear from him again.

I've spent several therapy sessions and countless conversations with friends trying to figure out how to put him in the past. I had finally accepted that I needed to put him in the past.

And then he called me tonight. Days after his best friend told me things would probably never be the same between us, he called me.

It took me a second to register that it was him calling. I deleted his number months ago because it hurt to see his name in my phone, and I actually saw the city of his phone number pop up before I realized it was his number. I was with friends when I got the call, and the first words out of my mouth were, "Holy shit." Because I wasn't expecting this in the least.

But I went outside, in the cool night in a short-sleeved shirt, shaking from nerves, and answered the call. I sat down at the bus stop because it was the nearest seat, and we talked.

We talked through everything that's happened over the past several months, and for the first time, I felt like everything was at peace with us. Finally. Towards the end of the conversation, I told him that talking to him again felt like a thousand pound weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I thought when I didn't hear from him after I called him and left a voicemail a couple weeks ago, that it meant he was done with me. I should've known he's not the kind of person who holds grudges.

Tonight, it felt like none of the negative stuff from the past 6+ months had even happened. We were the us that we were before everything got so messed up. We were cracking jokes and laughing hard and teasing each other and giving each other pep talks. He was calling me the nickname only he has for me...it was like how it used to be. Just hearing him laugh made me smile because for quite some time there I didn't know if I'd ever get to hear that again.

I really missed him. I knew I missed him, but I didn't really realize just how much until this conversation when things felt like they were okay again. And as it turned out, he missed me, too. After the news I got at the doctor a couple weeks ago, I called him because he was always the one who made me feel better about this kind of stuff, and I realized just how pointless it was to fight. It's too much energy wasted. And we were friends first. Before anything else, we were friends. We were family.

There are some friends who are going to freak out when they hear this news tomorrow. They worry about me - rightfully so, after everything that happened with Landon. And who knows, maybe I am walking back into disaster. But I don't know. And I need to be sure. I have to give this, him, us a second chance. I've spent so much of the past few months wondering if I overreacted and second guessing my choices. I need to be sure.

Just as I was beginning to accept that this chapter was over, I learned it wasn't. I have to believe that there's a reason this happened tonight. Maybe there's a lesson coming, or maybe I just get someone I love back in my life.

Either way, the lesson for tonight is that sometimes the past...isn't really the past.

Almost...there...

It's late.

I'm hot and sweaty.

I want to take a shower.

I'm also exhausted.

I want to sleep.

But I have to write at least one more section of this paper before I can do any of that because I know that if I stop, I won't start again.

I am, however, taking a food break because passing out from low blood sugar definitely won't do me any good. I went to the deli and got food and stopped and visited a few friends who are working on the block tonight. Sometimes the best thing I can do is take a mental break, and seeing those friends was definitely the best kind of break.

Now I'm eating and trying to motivate myself to write this next section of the paper.

It's not working so well.

Big props to the Hamilton soundtrack for keeping me awake. If y'all haven't checked this out, DO IT. You can listen to the whole thing on YouTube if you don't have money to buy it on iTunes. It's not a wonder in the least as to why this musical is nominated for SIXTEEN TONY AWARDS.

Not a Coincidence

I was planning on writing about this yesterday, but got a little distracted by all the medical stuff.

Sunday was the first day that I made it through a church service without a seizure since Easter Sunday, and close to a month before that.

Why? I'm absolutely convinced it's because of prayer.

Sunday before the service, I met with my friend Dorothea (who is an elder) and Christy (my pastor's wife), and we talked about everything that's been going on, and my stress and anxiety over all that's been happening. I talked about how I hate causing trouble every week, but I feel like if I don't come, my week will be that much harder. And how there's a lot of underlying anxiety that I still hold on to because of my previous negative experiences with the church, even though I know that City Grace is not like that and I've tried so hard to tell myself that. And Christy reassured me I was safe there and that everyone does genuinely love me and is genuinely concerned for me.

But then each of them prayed over me, and despite all over the emotion that had been coursing through my body during the conversation, when their prayers started, I felt peace. Complete and utter peace.

And the service, I was actually able to focus on what was happening, the worship, the sermon. My heart rate never picked up in the slightest even once (my heart racing is the sign I get that a seizure is coming). When the service was over, I found Dorothea in the lobby and just busted out laughing.

The first Sunday I had without a seizure in weeks just so happened to be the Sunday I was prayed over at the beginning of the morning? Not a coincidence. I don't buy it. Dorothea said she'd pray over me every Sunday if that's what it takes to keep me okay for the morning.

God is awesome. That is all.

Seven Years

That's a long time, y'all, isn't it?

Seven years ago, I was a senior in high school.

Seven years ago was also when I started this blog.

And when I started this blog, one of the first friends I made was Mandy.

She is fantastic - witty, sarcastic, smart, friendly, basically freaking awesome.

Well, she and her best friend were up here in the city this weekend for vacation, and the stars aligned so we were able to meet up for a bit this afternoon.

It was so good. So, so, SO good. Exactly the break from life that I needed. I don't know the last time I laughed that hard. And as cliché as it is, it really was like meeting up with an old friend, because after seven years, you really do get a bond with people, even if it's just online. And her best friend Amanda is so amazing, we instantly clicked, too, and the three of us just talked and laughed for a solid hour and a half before they had other plans to get to go because they were leaving tonight.

It took us about fifteen minutes to actually say goodbye to each other because we'd say goodbye and then someone would say something hilarious and we'd get distracted in the conversation again, and on and on. That's the best feeling.

I'm so happy. I have about 40 pictures of us goofing off, but I'll just leave you with this one because a) we both look really good and b) no one needs to see all the other ones haha. Too much weirdness for one blog post.

Life is beautiful, and I was reminded of that today.

And then it didn't sting anymore.

There's this fairly popular app called Timehop. You can connect your Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and other social media to it, and Timehop will show you what you posted on that day in years past. For example, today, my Timehop shows me all of my posts from April 14 all the way back to 2007 when my Facebook was first open.

I love this app. It has brought back a lot of good old memories that I wouldn't remember otherwise. I get to see pictures from years past. One picture on today was of me and my buddy Bryce, and it made me smile because I miss him and I have so many good memories with him from that school year. Timehop also allows me to go back and favorite old tweets that I didn't favorite at the time, because I used to not really favorite anything. So I get to hold on to memories, too.

The downside of checking this app every day is that I can also run into some bad memories. I see posts and pictures with people who are no longer in my life, and this pang of heartache hits me all over again. I remember all the good memories from before things fell apart, and how things fell apart, and all the things left unsaid, and it stings. Seeing their names, or even their Twitter handles, stings.

But something I have learned is that sting will go away. I saw several tweets on my Timehop about one of the people who hurt and left me recently...and it didn't hurt. I didn't feel that sting anymore. What a relief.

The best part of that, though, is that it gives me hope for the other stings I still feel. Today, I was looking through the pictures on my computer and I found a bunch of text messages from someone I've really been wishing that I could forget. It's someone that I've been aching over for a while, someone I've very nearly contacted on several occasions. Needless to say, it was hard for me to see those. I didn't even realize that my computer had imported them all until I ran across them today, and then I made the stupid masochistic choice to read them. So to say that the surprise of finding those stung would be an understatement.

But looking at how things worked out in remembering that other person, and how seeing their name doesn't hurt anymore, I know that I likely won't hurt over this person anymore. I just have to hold on to get to that day, however long it takes. I wish there was a timetable, but there's not. Knowing how much this person meant to me, I have a feeling it's going to take a while. Thankfully, I have people who are so faithful and loyal to stand by me and help me on the hard days when the memories get too hard to deal with on my own.

One day at a time, I guess. One day at a time.

Connector

"We're all a part of one body, right? Well, you're that part of the body that brings all the other parts together. You connect people."

That was what a friend of mine from church told me on Sunday. I'm a connector. For a minute, I didn't really see where she was getting that idea, but then I understood it.

Anyone who knows me knows that second to my relationship with God, my relationships with other people mean more to me than anything.

I hate superficial conversation (and Southerners are the masters of "small talk"). I want to really know a person. Their stories. Their fears. Their passions. The things that make them who they are and what makes them absolutely come alive.

I want to be someone who gives others a safe place to let the hard stuff out, to let down the facades we so often feel the need to put up for the world to see.

I put 100% of myself into every single one of my relationships, even though I know other people won't always do the same.

Taking care of other people and loving them is what matters to me.

People often talk about "guarding your heart" and all that, and trust me, I've tried, but it doesn't feel natural to me.

I don't know how not to invest in people.

I don't know how to disregard others for the sake of taking care of myself, not even when it comes to sleep (and you know how much I love sleep). All of my friends know that they can call me anytime, day or night, and I will answer the phone. I will pick helping people over anything, even if it means I get behind on my own stuff.

I know it sounds crazy, but I don't know how to be any different.

The thing is, though, I really didn't know that other people took much notice of it. So for my friend to say what she did about how I'm a blessing to my church because my love of making connections with people actually helps bring everyone else together, that very well may be one of the best compliments I've ever been given.

After several rough relationship issues in the past year, this was just the confirmation from God that I needed to keep being me and doing what I'm doing. Because sure, I may get hurt sometimes, and that stings like hell, but in the end, I know that the benefits, for both myself and for others, make it all worth it.

This is part of who I am. And it's not going anywhere.

This is the love story I've been waiting for.

From the very beginning of this year, I knew that I wanted to learn how to become content with my singleness. That's the major reason for my One Word choice for 2016. Back at the beginning of January, I said this:

But most of all, I want my heart to get completely lost in God this year. I want to live my days fully believing that God is enough for my peace and contentment and joy, where I am centered and resting in God's love and truth and promises and not standing on the shaking ground of what other people say about me and my worth.

Truth be told, I've kind of forgotten about these goals that I had made for this year. I've been caught up in still wishing I could meet someone. I've joined two dating apps in the past couple of months, telling myself (and others) that it was just because I wanted to meet new people and get out and have a life, and while that's partially true, it's also because you know, everyone says "oh that's how everyone's finding relationships nowadays" and I want it to include me. I've been on a few dates since I started, and they've been good, one recently was REALLY good, but they just leave me wanting more. Surprise surprise, what I thought was missing, what I thought I need to do, didn't make me happy enough. Go figure.

There's a wonderful girl that I know through my trip to Texas named Catie. Over the past year and a half, I've witnessed (via social media) her go from single to engaged to married. Last weekend, she posted something on Instagram. Knowing what I do of her story, it really encouraged me to see her so happy, and I told her that. After a few comments, I asked her if I could send her an email elaborating on how I was feeling, and her response hit me straight in the heart in the best possible way. I could copy and paste the entire email here, but that might be a bit long. These are the pieces that stood out.

God knows your heart, He knows those desires and He wants to honor that by possibly one day providing you those desires, but He is also a JEALOUS God who deeply desires (just like you and I desire) an intimate, tender, precious relationship with you... to sanctify you and make you holy and blameless, to love you deeper than you could've ever imagined or dreamed of.  

The creator of the universe, lover of our soul.. says we're beautiful, more precious than rubies and gold, ABSOLUTELY HIS CHERISHED WORKS OF ART.

...the Lord of all things pure and holy finds you worthy of a relationship with Him.

...I had to be honest with myself, and know that even if God never provides me a husband or a sweet baby, HE IS SO SWEET AND GRACIOUS TO ME BECAUSE I GET TO BE HIS DAUGHTER. 

Fall in love with Jesus, He is so worth it. He created you to fulfill your every need and desire. Let Him fill your need with just His grace and love alone. And stop letting Satan lie to you, Mal. You ARE beautiful! We must stop looking to the world and to boys and whoever else to feel pretty. 

I really do want you to KNOW (not simply feel) but with all your being no matter who says otherwise, that you ARE wanted, that you ARE beautiful. And also remember that His life is His love story to you.

His life is His love story to you. That probably stood out more to me than anything. I've been waiting for a love story to sweep me off my feet, when I have the greatest love story of all of a King who found me worthy of giving his life to save. ("In the eyes of the Lord God, you are loved, and you are worth dying for." - Jon Jorgenson) I've been waiting for a guy to love me when I have a God who loves me beyond all comprehension, infinitely more than another broken human being ever could, even one that does feel like my Prince Charming. I've been waiting for a relationship to make me happy, when happiness is fleeting and the true joy I need to make it through this life comes through a relationship with the One who created me, who knows and loves me more intimately and deeply than I could ever dream of asking for.

God needs to be enough for me. I need to have joy even if God wills it not to bring me the husband and kids that I've desired for as long as I can remember. I need to have contentment in the idea of just having God...but right now, I don't. I want to be, though; I so desperately want to be. I hate this feeling of thinking that I'm not lovable or wanted or whatever simply because I don't get a lot of attention or validation from guys. The only way I know how to put it is that it seems that my mind and heart have been so caught up in what I want for my future that I'm making myself more important than God and His plans for my life, despite how many times He has proven that His plans are so much better than mine. I'm so thankful for the Lord's willingness to forgive me for this.

Lord, I love you. Help me grow ever closer to You this year and, as Catie said, faceplant in the truth that I am loved and beautiful and your cherished masterpiece.

Not Forgotten

I've been meaning to blog this all week, but needless to say, the past seven days have not been very kind to me. Better late than never, though, I suppose.

Last Sunday, I woke up in a bad state of mind. It's weird that that often happens on Sundays (not). But I was talking to my friend Steven after the service asking him to pray for a few things, and before I could even get into the details, he said something that hit me right in the gut.

"You know, I've actually been praying for you all week. I wasn't sure why, since it's been a couple weeks since we've seen each other, but God just kept telling me to pray for you."

I couldn't help but chuckle a little, because what else are you supposed to do when you hear God go "I haven't forgotten you, silly girl." I think that when it feels like so much negativity is piling up on me, it gets really hard for me to remember that God's still here and still faithful whether it feels like it or not. I'm so thankful that we serve a God who is not dependent on feelings. Imagine how messed up this world would be if that were the case!

I often struggle to remember that God isn't focused on whether or not I get angry or doubt. God is still the same whether or not I feel secure or am at peace. God is still paying attention even when it seems to me like he's not. It was shown to me in the fact that my friend knew he needed to pray for me even when he wasn't sure why. Steven didn't know anything was wrong, yet God told him to pray for me because God knew I needed it.

I've been feeling so overwhelmed lately, but it's stories and moments like that that remind me that God is bigger than I can ever possibly imagine. The details are not lost on the King of the universe.

Praise be to God.

One Good Thing

"The one good thing about me getting that job was that I got to meet you."

That's what a friend of mine told me tonight. He used to work at a place near my apartment but quit. We were on the phone tonight, and I mentioned that I miss seeing him (which I do), and that was what he said in response.

Now, don't worry, this isn't just another blog post about me gushing about some boy. It's not like that. I'm mentioning this because it got me thinking.

My friend, he hated that job. Like really hated it. Like, he doesn't have another job yet but is still so happy he doesn't work there anymore. Yet he still found a good thing that came from that experience.

How many times do I have the opportunity to do that, to find something positive in a situation that was not good, but choose not to? How many times do I let frustration or sadness or anger or whatever get in the way of me being grateful? Far too many, I'll tell you that much.

Perspective is everything. In a world this messed up and broken and scary and confusing, if we don't keep perspective, the darkness will destroy us. Satan will win and he'll steal any light we have if we give him the chance.

I know it's way easier said than done. I know depression, and I know how hard of a battle it is not to let the pain completely overtake you some days. But we have to at least try. Because if we don't try, what's the point? If we don't try to hold on to the beauty in life, what else do we have? Even just getting up out of bed can make a day a win. Give yourself credit for getting up and facing whatever comes at you.

When people start treating me or talking about me like I'm Superwoman, there's something I always tell them: I'm just trying to make the best out of the life I've been given. I know what it feels like when the darkness is controlling everything, but I also know grace and what it feels like when the love and power of a King pulls you through trials you know you couldn't have survived on your own. And that second thing, that grace? Trust me, it's way better.

So tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, I'm gonna do my best to find at least one good thing in the day. Today that good thing was this reminder a friend gave me without even realizing he did it.