Loved Ones and Leaving

Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form

Almost two years ago I lost my pepere (grandfather, for those of you confused) and he was one of the most special men I have ever known. He was one of the very few people I have ever known who can be so incredibly kind, while still being absolutely hilarious all at once.  He went out of his way to make everyone else’s day special 365 days a year, and very rarely took time for himself. Even when diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, he didn’t slow down or miss a beat. He continued to be his usual self, showing up at our house unannounced to deliver pizzas, cracking jokes left and right, and taking me out to lunches at his favorite spot- the Empire Buffet. Even as the end came closer, he was still making us laugh. “Do you want me to buy you a body pillow, to help you sleep better?” my mom asked him as we all sat around the dinner table at his house one night in May. “No.” he said, and added with a chuckle, “the only thing you can get me is a body bag.” As everyone else’s faces slipped into shock and they exclaimed “Gene!” I laughed along with him. Even though the joke was terribly morbid and a reminder of what we knew was coming near, that joke meant that he was still my pepere, the same man who made a joke out of anything no matter how serious the situation. The summer before he passed away, I spent several days a week at his house, doing our favorite activity- swimming in his pool. Ever since I was a child he loved to swim with us, and every time we visited he asked if we brought our bathing suits. I didn’t care about my friends that summer, I wanted to be with him. And so I was, as often as possible. We spent all day swimming, then went in for some ice cream and lunch. We would do handstands in the pool, he would teach me how to dive through a tube (which was the most hilariously incredible thing. He was bigger than the hole in the tube, yet somehow he still managed to squeeze through) and we’d play a game we shared between the two of us, called Airplanes. Because we spent so much time together that summer, we didn’t always have something to say- so to pass the time together we floated in the pool and kept count of who could spot the most airplanes first. To this day, every now and then I look up and see an airplane in the sky and I think of him and know he’s with me. All though he totally has the advantage now, because he can see all the airplanes from heaven that the clouds are blocking from me. 😉 I love my pepere, so so much. And I wish he could still be here with me in the physical world. But I am so beyond positive that he is still with me, spiritually. I dream of him whenever I need him, and sometimes I even just know that he’s by my side without any indication other than pure intuition. If you lose someone you love, believe that they are always with you and you’ll open yourself up to the ability to feel their presence again. I miss the activities we did together in his time here on earth, but I can’t say that I miss him. He’s still with me, and I know that. And because of that the hole in my heart is a lot smaller than it would be without that faith.

Summertime Sadness

Okay, I couldn’t have gotten any more cliche on that title, but I show no embarrassment in paying homage to Lana Del Rey. That song title, however, essentially sums up how I’m feeling now that the weather is getting warmer and I’m back home from school for a few months yet again. Every time this season rolls back around, I get the same blues I am all too familiar with. Now, yes I do have year round depression, but this is a completely different sadness; something that medication cannot alleviate. I have been experiencing this sadness every summer since I was a child, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m alone in this odd sensation. Its one thing that I am very intolerant of the heat, but the fact that the sunshine coming in through the windows bothers me is something bizarre and not frequently heard of. The days of summer that are filled with dreary rain are my favorite days; acting almost as a tiny shred of relief from the suffering I’ve endured. I’m certain that to many of you I sound absolutely crazy right now, but this is a feeling I cannot shake no matter what I do to try and get into the summer spirit. I’ll try and hang in there until autumn comes back to save me. 

Anonymous

“A lot of the conflict you have in your life exists simply because you’re not living in alignment; you’re not be being true to yourself.”

I genuinely don’t like having to hide my blog from people who know me. In a way, it is something I’m proud of so I should have no resistance to sharing it, yet for some reason I do. I have already gone back and deleted posts that I wasn’t ready to share with everyone. I never made this blog to be something where I could get out what I was hiding with the awareness that I was faceless on the internet. This wasn’t intended to be an online journal. I have a real one for that purpose. I think ultimately, I have posted personal things here thinking it was okay at the time to share them out loud, but for several reasons my opinion has changed. I am not in the same place anymore, and things are different now than they used to be. I feel as though my initial concern in hesitating to share my blog with people I know was that I felt that I shouldn’t be hiding these parts of myself, and by deleting posts I was only proving that I was ashamed of who I am. I think now, however, I can understand that some things are, and overtime can become, personal no matter what and do not need to be broadcast to the people they do or do not know.

Am I going to share this blog now? Its more than likely that I won’t, or at least not immediately. I am not okay with doing that just yet because this isn’t a decision I want to make spur of the moment. I am considering it, but I want to be sure this won’t make me feel as though I need to start to change my blog’s content and voice. I want this blog to be a real representation of who I am; where I may be filtered, but never hidden.

In Retrospect

Looking back on your life always gives you insight on the things you were unable to see, even though they were right in front of you at the time. Looking back on my last post, (which has since been deleted) I was so hopeful and- to be frank- very naive. I feel sorry for that version of myself, the version who thought I had something meaningful with somebody who was really using me and manipulating me. I can only imagine what it would be like for someone to be in a toxic relationship, and how hard it would be to accept that it was a problem and remove yourself from that situation. Hell, I was FORCED out of the situation and I still couldn’t let go. So I have respect for people who get out of abusive relationships and things of the like, more so than I did before. This is helping me grow, I suppose. And while it does hurt, I don’t regret that it happened. I have learned so much (and am continuing to) that the pain has actually been worth it.

Spiritual Struggles

I am at a crossroads, and I’ve been stuck here since early 2013. I grew up in a family with a very lax view on religion. I was baptized and enrolled in my local Sunday school, but the commitment ended there. We were not regular church-goers and, though I prayed every night and believed strongly in God, we never discussed religion much as a family. 8th grade came around, however, and something changed. For reasons unknown I became, what one could call, obsessed with Catholicism. From that point on I was the biggest advocate for the religion and I was known for my strict beliefs. Abortion, premarital sex, drinking, drugs, and things of the likes were disgusting to me. Every Sunday you could find me in the pews beside my mother, ready to hear The Lord’s word that week. When I became a senior in high school, I began volunteering as a teacher at my church, for the 7th and 8th grade religious education classes. “Are you doing this for community service hours?” students would often ask. I was always greeted with disbelief when I admitted I chose to volunteer for fun. Soon I applied and enrolled in a Catholic college, ready to attend service as frequently as possible.

When I came to college, however, I soon slipped into a depression, and I fell away from my faith for a time being. After several months of darkness, I thought that if anything could help me shake this, it would only be God. And so, I attended my first campus church service. My first, and my last. I found myself displeased with the priest. He mentioned that he would be using swears at times in order to communicate to us in the way we communicate with one another. He even told us how important it was to balance our social lives, work, education, and sex lives while still maintaining religion in the balance. I was appalled. Never should a Catholic priest make a “sex life” seem appropriate, let alone normal, to a group of unmarried college students. I left and never returned.

I know what you’re thinking, and yes I was crazy. I don’t think this way anymore, but I was not kidding when I called myself a “strict Catholic.”

Since then I have taken a world religions class, and my eyes have been opened to Buddhism. I strongly believe in many aspects of the Buddhist faith, and this has caused me great confusion. I am 100% positive that God is real, but also that the Dalai Lama is truly the reincarnation of the bodhisattva. My Catholic faith has been such a huge part of my life that I can’t and don’t want to let it go, but at the same time I don’t feel Catholic anymore. Yet there is no religion that suits me. I can’t be Buddhist and believe in God, it’s contradictory.

For the time being I’ve been focusing on my spirituality, being in touch with my spirit guides and connecting with my higher self, but maintaining a relationship with God. I suppose I don’t need to fit into any specific religion, but it would help to know if there were others out there with the same beliefs as myself.

In my greatest fantasy, I’m given a year off to find myself and my spirituality, but for now I’ll try and balance it with my work, schooling, social life, and sex life. 😉

Ponderings of an Atypical College Student

On this Thirsty Thursday I lay on my couch blogging; my sobriety likely one of few remaining on campus this hour.  Though I do participate in recreational drinking most (okay, basically all) weekends, I’m not one to drink on a school night…usually anyway. I’m not here to put the impression in your mind that I’m an angel, because I think you should have a fair image of me… And that would be the most untrue thing you could think of me. I’ve smoked weed, and sometimes I still do. I’ve abused prescription drugs as well (my own, if that somehow makes it any better?) so I have done my fair share of stupid things. I can’t, however, shake this constant nagging feeling that I’m better than all of these poor decisions I make. Yes, I have fun while I’m under the influence. It has allowed me to express myself freely and be fearless. It has brought me close to new people and given me experiences I wouldn’t trade for anything. But it has also caused me a great deal of pain, regret, and embarrassment. I feel as though the good simply does not outweigh the bad. Sure I’ve created connections with people drunk that I may not have made sober, but isn’t a connection you made with someone, through the fear, anxiety, and awkwardness, all the more valuable? Truth be told, on a Friday night I’d rather go for a walk, look at the stars, and talk about anything and everything with someone I enjoy being around. I don’t want to get wasted, go to a party, and have meaningless sex I’ll regret the next day (If I even remember it, that is.) I want something more out of life, something that actually has value to me.

And yet every weekend you’ll find a drink in my hand. Granted I am not a party girl, I typically stay in and play drinking games with my roommates, but you’d be surprised how many things can still go wrong and end in regret from that scenario.

As a college student I might be alone in these thoughts, but I’m okay with that; really okay. I don’t want to be like everyone else. I want to live a fulfilling life for myself and I know that substance abuse is not going to bring about that fulfillment. Though an immediate change may not come about, these thoughts, and perhaps the finding of some friends with similar values and thoughts, will soon bring me to the path I want to be on in this life.

Slipping Through My Fingers

Pardon the Abba reference in the title, I couldn’t help myself.

While the saying may go “you don’t really know what you’ve got till it’s gone,” I have found myself experiencing the very opposite problem. I have become so acutely aware of my blessings that I suffer from fear of losing them every second that I should be enjoying them. At several points throughout the day I will reflect on how lucky I am to enjoy college so much, live with such incredible friends, and feel so much fulfillment from my academics. And then, almost immediately, the fear sinks in. I remember that college is finite and the hands on the clock move much quicker than I desire.  The fear usually occupies more of my time than the joy does, and thus I spend the majority of my time frightened and sad because of how lovely my life is. I am well aware that this is extremely silly (to be polite to myself) but I simply cannot stop this from happening. I need to learn how to live in the moment and forget that all good things must come to a close.

on a side note: The future may hold something even better than what I’m experiencing now. Think positive, Shannon.

Mixed Emotions; A Trivial Deliberation

I’ve been pondering a particular thought in every spare moment my mind has to wander lately. I cannot, for the life of me, seem to find the logical, moral, reasonable way to deal with this situation I’ve been preoccupied with. Of course, my thoughts are all merely wishful thinking, and what I spend my days questioning is complete fiction. I should only be so lucky as to have this problem arise in my life. Yet, in case one day I find myself in that tough situation; I pose the question for you. When you find yourself to be in love with someone, someone who is already happily committed to someone else, are you obligated to remain single? Surely it’s a “good idea” to date other people (casually, I mean) in order to get your mind off of that person you’ll never end up with? Yet what about the feelings of the person you’re dating? Do you go into the situation being explicit by saying “here’s the deal…” and laying it all out on the table? But wouldn’t that just send them running anyway? Maybe I only speak for myself when I say I’d never date a guy who told me flat out he was in love with another girl. Unless I liked them enough, I suppose.

But even still, I mean, what if the guy I’m  considering dating is really the love of my life and I just don’t see it because I’m so caught up in this person I don’t even know well enough to assess?

My thoughts continue to go around in circles and I never come to a solid conclusion in this mental debate. I can see the reasoning behind both sides of the argument and it is genuinely driving me crazy. Theoretical situations should not be this frustrating.

I hope someone; somewhere has a little bit of insight on this subject that they can send my way. And now I pray, as you all should as well, that this never happens to me. I rescind the former statement that made this out to seem “lucky.” For heaven’s sake, I would rather be single for life.

The Horrifying Truth You’re Choosing to Ignore

The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way in which its animals are treated.
-Gandhi

While I never like to “push” my personal decisions on other people, I love getting the chance to explain my choices to people that inquire about them. The lifestyle choice I have made which has received the greatest amount of questioning has been my decision to become a vegetarian. When I tell people I’m doing it because of animal cruelty, many people often say “yeah, it makes me sad too- I just don’t think about it because I love meat.” Well, with all due respect to those who have found themselves using that statement, you obviously don’t know enough about the subject if you’re still capable of “not thinking about it.” When you learn, and by that I mean fully grasp, the true process behind the manufacturing of meat, you can never “forget” or choose to not to think about it. It will come back to you every time you see, smell, or think about meat.

But I’m not here today to lecture you about the factory farming industry. If you are interested in learning about that, there are plenty of documentaries and resources on the internet for you to explore.

What I want you to think about is; should there be anything that goes on in our world- especially in our food industry, that is so horrifying and disgusting, that we must force ourselves to pretend it doesn’t exist in order to be able to go on with our day? Please take that into consideration.

I want to end by reminding you that I am not trying to convince you to go vegetarian. That is not my intention at all. My desire is not to convert everyone; it is to raise awareness. I want people to know and remember what goes on behind the production of meat. So that perhaps one day we are finally all informed enough that a change in the system can happen, and there will be no horrifying secrets behind our meats.

The Years of Struggle

“One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful.” -Sigmund Freud

I’m sharing this quote tonight before I send myself off to bed because it is the most true sentence I have ever come across in my life thus far. I keep it written somewhere close-by at all times to serve as a reminder to myself that things truly are worth it.  No matter how tough things may seem, no matter how close you are to rock bottom, always know that it does get better. Then, when you finally have your feet on stable ground and you feel okay again, you can look back on those difficult times and finally see the beauty in them. This is, as the greatest things usually are, one of those situations where you can’t truly believe or comprehend it until you’ve lived through it and seen how spot on this statement is. You can learn incredible things from the dark times in your life. I think, too, that what makes looking back on the years of struggle so beautiful is the simple fact that you are able to do so. You had the strength to pull through and keep going, and there is nothing more beautiful than that.

Goodnight.