The things I'm thankful for this year:
- I'm thankful for my family. They give me the strength and support when I need it the most and they are always there to back up my decisions. I, in return, will always be there for them no matter what they need or when they need me.
- I'm additionally thankful for my second family. They have taught me what it means to stick together through thick and thin and how to party! Haha. They have such a sense of togetherness and I have always been included in all of their family events, making me feel as if I really am part of their family.
- I am infinitely thankful for my boyfriend. He sacrifices so much, only to make me happy. He has always been my #1 fan and I could never thank him enough for how he has helped me achieve the things that I want. I am so lucky to have someone like him by my side.
- I am thankful for my friends - old and new. Old familiar friendships have helped me realize that some things really are worth fighting for and new friendships have shown me that I will always do my best to make someone happy. I will never take a friendship for granted, no matter how close we are.
- I am thankful for my god-daughter Soleil. Even though she is far away, her smile warms my heart. She is a brilliant young child and the promise for a bright future makes me proud.
- I am thankful for my job. It has it's challenges, but being here has helped me realize what I want to do with my life. I am thankful for every interaction I have with patients and every chance to make someones day a little bit better.
- I am thankful for all the silly material things in my life. Not because they are material, but because without them I would not have a roof over my head, a mode of transportation, food in my house, clothes to wear, or books for my education.
- I am thankful for the inspiration, creativity, drive, and determination that will continue to propel me forward. Without these, I would be lost and destined for failure.
- I am thankful for my life. There will be ups and downs, but the good times will ALWAYS outweigh the bad.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Define: Hypocrite
Hypocrite [hip-uh-krit]
- noun
Sitting on a throne of ignorance, you jeer me for what I choose to do. But when I'm not looking, you emulate me in hopes of exceeding my success. In your mind, empty justifications are made so you are right for what you do. While you are not bound by the rules, I am and have created a major offense. I am wrong for my act while you are doing something different and creative. You waste your existence complaining to anyone who will listen about what a fool I am for the things I do, all the while you are doing just the same.
You think you're better than everyone. But you're not; you're worse actually. You're a hypocrite.
- noun
Sitting on a throne of ignorance, you jeer me for what I choose to do. But when I'm not looking, you emulate me in hopes of exceeding my success. In your mind, empty justifications are made so you are right for what you do. While you are not bound by the rules, I am and have created a major offense. I am wrong for my act while you are doing something different and creative. You waste your existence complaining to anyone who will listen about what a fool I am for the things I do, all the while you are doing just the same.
You think you're better than everyone. But you're not; you're worse actually. You're a hypocrite.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Deep Breath.
Deep breath. Breathe deep. That's what I keep telling myself as I stare blankly at my reflection in the dirty mirror. I look at myself and I can't recognize my face. It looks as if I've been paralyzed and my face is completely numb to anything. My eyesight is blurred and tears continue to run down my face like a faucet that was never turned off. Then I realize that my mascara is running. Again. That's the third time today. "'Waterproof' my ass," I say out loud. My voice resonates through the empty tiled bathroom and I remember where I am. A tremor inside me sends shock waves through my body and my legs go numb. I almost fall, but at the last moment, I catch myself on the sink in front of me. My hands grip the porcelain sink so tightly that my knuckles begin to turn white. Beneath me, my legs tremble; I can barely stand up. Holding up all of my weight on my left arm, I lift my right hand in a weak attempt to fix my makeup.
Haphazardly smudging my makeup back into place, I sigh; "What's the use? It will just run again in a few minutes." So I give up on trying to look presentable, and instead I focus on my face in the mirror. I linger for a long moment, looking at the reflection of a sad mess of a girl in front of me. "Get it together," I think. Taking in a large gulp of oxygen, I contemplate holding my breath til I pass out. I give a good effort, holding my breath for at least two minutes, hoping that my heart will stop dead in its tracks. I hold it til my lungs burn with the craving for fresh air; I can't hold it much longer. I give up, feeling more defeated that ever, and let the air escape from my lungs. With that failed effort, I decide to go back in the room with everyone else. Time to face the crowd.
Walking back into the room, nothing has changed. Everyone is still wearing black. My sister is still in the corner crying. The plates of nasty food are still left untouched. I guess nobody has the stomach for food right now; neither do I. There is a silent, invisible weight being held over everyone present - the weight that death always puts on loved ones. The feeling of sadness and despair loom thick in the air, like fog, clouding the emotions of everyone here.
Although there are family members, loved ones, and lots of friends here with me, I stand alone. I am alone. I have never felt so alone in my life. I hate being alone. My mother, who was my true best friend is gone. I can't comprehend how or why I am still standing here. I want to vanish. As I lurch through the living room, hallway, and kitchen aimlessly staring off into space, I pass by many faces I recognize but none seem to register in my blank mind. Faintly in the background I can hear someone say, "Is she okay?," and then comes the response from another, "Her mother just died. I don't think she's gona be okay for a while." I give a slight smile as I think to myself that I will be okay. Eventually.
With nowhere else to go, I abruptly walk up the familiar stairs of the family house into my old room. Everything is in the exact same place that I left it eight years ago. All of my dolls are positioned just as I remember them, sitting on top of my perfectly made bed. The same Strawberry Shortcake sheets are on the bed - those were my favorites, even as a teenager. My vanity remains untouched in the windowsill with makeup and magazines from my youth. Oh, the windowsill. How many nights did I sneak out onto the rooftop and just stare at the stars while dreaming of my future? The sun catches my eye as it glistens off of something on the top of the sill. I pick up the old trinket and remember what it is - a necklace that mom gave to me for Christmas one year. My fingers roll over the cool smoothness of the silver, and in a quick motion it is around my neck. I nervously play with the charm around my neck as I continue to explore my old belongings.
I crane my head to look out over the windowsill and see the beautiful garden that I helped her plant years ago. I wipe old crusted tears out of the corners of my eyes to make way for fresh new ones to roll down my face. As I begin hysterically crying, I think about all of the wonderful memories we shared in the garden: planting her favorite flowers, tulips; begging her to plant mine right next to hers; finally being able to plant my lilies; all the time that was spent making that garden beautiful, and the life lessons that she was teaching me while spending time together. I think I can feel my heart breaking, if it hasn't already done so.
I quickly look over my shoulder to make sure nobody has followed me, and I open the window and the screen to the rooftop. When I place my feet on the level side of the roof where I spent so many youthful nights, I take a look around and then I lay down. My eyes close and the warmth from the sun heats me and for the first time since she died, I felt comforted. I lay there for a long while letting the sun caress my skin with its warmth. At the moment, there is nothing more blissful than this. I think about heaven and if it really exists; if it does, I'm sure shes up there. I look directly at the sun and with temporary blindness I see her face. I miss her. I gradually sit up, brush off old leaves that had collected on my sweater and then stand. I know what I must do. Without a second thought, I confidently step close to the edge of the roof.
I look down. Deep breath. Breathe deep.
And jump.
Haphazardly smudging my makeup back into place, I sigh; "What's the use? It will just run again in a few minutes." So I give up on trying to look presentable, and instead I focus on my face in the mirror. I linger for a long moment, looking at the reflection of a sad mess of a girl in front of me. "Get it together," I think. Taking in a large gulp of oxygen, I contemplate holding my breath til I pass out. I give a good effort, holding my breath for at least two minutes, hoping that my heart will stop dead in its tracks. I hold it til my lungs burn with the craving for fresh air; I can't hold it much longer. I give up, feeling more defeated that ever, and let the air escape from my lungs. With that failed effort, I decide to go back in the room with everyone else. Time to face the crowd.
Walking back into the room, nothing has changed. Everyone is still wearing black. My sister is still in the corner crying. The plates of nasty food are still left untouched. I guess nobody has the stomach for food right now; neither do I. There is a silent, invisible weight being held over everyone present - the weight that death always puts on loved ones. The feeling of sadness and despair loom thick in the air, like fog, clouding the emotions of everyone here.
Although there are family members, loved ones, and lots of friends here with me, I stand alone. I am alone. I have never felt so alone in my life. I hate being alone. My mother, who was my true best friend is gone. I can't comprehend how or why I am still standing here. I want to vanish. As I lurch through the living room, hallway, and kitchen aimlessly staring off into space, I pass by many faces I recognize but none seem to register in my blank mind. Faintly in the background I can hear someone say, "Is she okay?," and then comes the response from another, "Her mother just died. I don't think she's gona be okay for a while." I give a slight smile as I think to myself that I will be okay. Eventually.
With nowhere else to go, I abruptly walk up the familiar stairs of the family house into my old room. Everything is in the exact same place that I left it eight years ago. All of my dolls are positioned just as I remember them, sitting on top of my perfectly made bed. The same Strawberry Shortcake sheets are on the bed - those were my favorites, even as a teenager. My vanity remains untouched in the windowsill with makeup and magazines from my youth. Oh, the windowsill. How many nights did I sneak out onto the rooftop and just stare at the stars while dreaming of my future? The sun catches my eye as it glistens off of something on the top of the sill. I pick up the old trinket and remember what it is - a necklace that mom gave to me for Christmas one year. My fingers roll over the cool smoothness of the silver, and in a quick motion it is around my neck. I nervously play with the charm around my neck as I continue to explore my old belongings.
I crane my head to look out over the windowsill and see the beautiful garden that I helped her plant years ago. I wipe old crusted tears out of the corners of my eyes to make way for fresh new ones to roll down my face. As I begin hysterically crying, I think about all of the wonderful memories we shared in the garden: planting her favorite flowers, tulips; begging her to plant mine right next to hers; finally being able to plant my lilies; all the time that was spent making that garden beautiful, and the life lessons that she was teaching me while spending time together. I think I can feel my heart breaking, if it hasn't already done so.
I quickly look over my shoulder to make sure nobody has followed me, and I open the window and the screen to the rooftop. When I place my feet on the level side of the roof where I spent so many youthful nights, I take a look around and then I lay down. My eyes close and the warmth from the sun heats me and for the first time since she died, I felt comforted. I lay there for a long while letting the sun caress my skin with its warmth. At the moment, there is nothing more blissful than this. I think about heaven and if it really exists; if it does, I'm sure shes up there. I look directly at the sun and with temporary blindness I see her face. I miss her. I gradually sit up, brush off old leaves that had collected on my sweater and then stand. I know what I must do. Without a second thought, I confidently step close to the edge of the roof.
I look down. Deep breath. Breathe deep.
And jump.
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