Change,

"The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance." ~Alan Watts

It's crazy to think how much a person can change in a period of time.  Whether it be from their hairstyles and clothing choices, to where the place their faith or their general attitude.  A few years ago, after my friend's suicide, my high school placed me under intensive therapy during hours because of me lashing out and becoming extremely depressed and anxious my senior year... along with telling my assistant principal that I was seeing my friend in the hallways covered in blood, but hey... that's not an issue, right?

I was originally going to write this post about a dream that I had and draw a nice picture of it on one of my drawing pads, but when cleaning out my closet, I found my old journal from said intensive therapy.  Flipping through it, I realized that though I was coming off as normal to my peers and teachers (well, for the most part), I was one messed up seventeen year old.  I'm going to put some excerpts below.  And I'm warning/reminding you:  this stuff was from two or more years ago.  I do not feel these intense feelings anymore.  Grant it, they do come back sometimes, but not in the way they did at this time.  And it's pretty sad that I was thinking/writing these things right before my 18th birthday.

The assignment I had from my therapist was to take a week and essentially write to my dead friend, Shane.  So during this week, that's all I did.  And these are the results.  Take a look.  I'll only provide with some of the journal entry, because it does get pretty explicit and vulgar with the language, but it's actually pretty interesting.

------------

April 18-19, 2011

Shane,

A few days ago, my therapist gave me this worksheet to do so I could "communicate" with you and express my feelings.  Like that's gonna f***ing work.  It's not like I'm gonna fill out some goddamn paper and *poof*, there you are to tell me everything's going to be okay.  Because it's not.  And it's never going to be.  But I'm still going to do this stupid paper, so that my therapist doesn't write me as "clinically insane" and I can possibly graduate a decent human being.

I remember one of the questions being about song lyrics that reminded me of you.  Well, that's a little hard because all you listened to was country, and you know I avoid that s**t like the black plague.  The only thing I could think of was that one song that kept playing on your slideshow.  It was some Sarah MacLaclan song, and the only reason why I remember was because it's always on those ridiculous ASPCA commercials you used to make fun of.  What irony.  You don't understand.  I looked right at your body that day right when that song came on.  I wanted to scream and tell you to get up... the joke was over and you could get up, but you never did.  I PLEADED WITH THE LORD IN MY HEAD FOR YOU TO COME BACK AND YOU NEVER DID.  I wanna see you, not hear some stupid, sappy f***ing songs that remind me of you or pictures or videos that remind me of you.  I don't want reminders.  I want you.  I wanna hear your voice, you laugh... I'm starting to forget what you sound like and it scares me to f***ing death how much I will remember of you in the next year.  You'll never understand what we have to go through.

You make me feel so guilty.  You being so selfish and taking your life has given me so much guilt.  Why did you send me that f***ing text?!  You never should've sent me that... maybe I wouldn't feel so guilty.  You should've just done it and not told anyone, especially me.  I probably would feel a little guilty because I never saw that side of you, but you gave me an opportunity at two in the goddamn morning to save you and I never took it.  I hate myself everyday.  I hate it when I wake up in the morning and you're not here for me to call or text or message on Facebook or see at church... hell, you're not available to do anything because you're f***ing dead!

Every day, I see you in the hallways.  Covered in blood.  Screaming.  Telling me it was my fault.  I wake up every day and want to end my life.  I can't take this anymore.  If I was brave enough, I would probably do the same thing you did.  But how wimpy am I to not do it, huh?  At least you don't have to experience everything afterwards.  

I got my acceptance letter for Edinboro on April Fool's Day, and to be honest, joke's on them because I don't even wanna go anymore.  I know you wanted to go there with me and now the thought sickens me.

Every morning is the same routine.  I wake up with a struggle, knowing you won't be there.  I put on your bracelets again, look at your name, and think, "Could I have saved you?  Could I have done something to save you so you'd still be here?  Could I have done anything?"  And the answer is always the same.  No.

------------

Less than two months after this entry, I did something my guidance counselor told me I'd never do because of my behavior:  I graduated in the top third of my graduating class, almost hitting the honor roll.  I didn't get to go to school, but I got my first job (ironically at the place he was working when he died) and have met the most wonderful and supportive people there.  I made new friends, something I thought I'd never do.  I've become an activist for suicide and depression awareness and support.  

I'm not one hundred percent happy or over Shane's suicide.  These things take time.  But I'm happier than I was.  And that's the most important thing.

If you're ever feeling the way I was in that journal entry, or have a friend/loved one feeling that way, here are some resources you can use to get better.  Don't be afraid to take the first step.  That's the most important one.

~Carly

------------

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:  

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ or 1-800-273-TALK

Hopeline:

http://hopeline.com/ or 1-800-442-HOPE

Other options:

• There should be a list of local suicide hotlines in your local telephone book.
• Dial 411 and ask for a local suicide hotline.
• Dial 0 and ask for a local suicide hotline.
• Call 911.  Tell them you are in suicidal danger.  They will help.

Don't be afraid to ask for help.

Music Monday,

I think I'm gonna start sharing some of my favorite songs on Mondays. I listen to a lot of different music, and sometimes, a person's playlist can show you who they are.  So here are three songs I've been loving the past week.

1. "No Name" by Ryan O'Shaughnessy

This guy was on "Britain's Got Talent" and auditioned with this song... and it's been one of those songs I've put on repeat.  A boy with his guitar and some sweet words is all I need to be reeled in.

                                 

2.  "Better When You're Gone" by Luke Conard

Oh, Luke Conard. I've been watching this guy on YouTube for a pretty long time.  Though this 32-year-old has a baby face worthy for a teenager, this guy can bolt out an amazing song full of angst and I love it.

3. "Look at me Now" and "Seventeen" by Charlie Puth

You can probably tell by now that I like independent artist.  But anyways, Charlie is probably one of the most hardworking artists I've ever seen. A full-time college student at Berkeley, talented musician, and after losing his cousin last year, used his tragedy as a creative element to make some of the best content he's had in a while. Check him out... you won't regret it. 

                               

A Short Post About Love,

Sometimes, I feel like love has become superficial. One sided. Critical. Love is not something that can be thrown around like a ratty rag doll that should go to waste. Love isn't achieved when reaching a finish line or checking off all the opposite person's requirements.

Love is when you accept someone with all their imperfections, stupidities, and ugly points, and still see their perfection whilst knowing of their imperfections.

Fear,

"Love is what we were born with.  Fear is what we learned here." ~Marianne Williamson

When I was younger, I was always taught to be fearless.  Carly, don't be scared of the snake in the bushes.  Don't be scared of falling off your bike.  Don't be scared of the old man across the street.  You'll be okay.

In school, when I was starting to get bullied by all the kids in some of my classes, my teachers would pull me aside and tell me, Carly, don't be scared of these bullies.  They can't hurt you.  You'll be okay.

The day before graduation, my criminal justice teacher, who became a huge mentor for me in high school, told me, Carly, don't be scared of what happens next.  Be excited! I know you'll be okay.

But this one is different.  Being told that your body is doing things that not even your doctors understand, that there's something floating in your blood stream and your uterus and ovaries and heart and bones and there's no way to get it out is probably the scariest thing to ever experience.  And the worst part?  They don't tell you you'll be okay.  They tell you you're going to die.  If not from Type 2 diabetes, then blood cancer, or ovarian cancer, or uterine cancer, or your body fighting the medicine that's trying to help you get better and making me blow up like a little fat bag and dying as a fat, disgusting lard.  I am a ticking time bomb.  I don't know when something else is going to go wrong.  I'm scared out of my mind and I've never been this scared in my entire life.

The Problem With Stein-Leventhal,

"Life has become immeasurably better since I have been forced to stop taking it so seriously." ~Hunter S. Thompson

So yesterday, I had a doctor's appointment regarding the progress of my Stein-Leventhal.  I'm just gonna come clean with y'all and say that it definitely wasn't the news I was looking for.  I haven't gotten any better since last year, only worse.  But I know that I have an awesome team.  I have a doctor solely specializing in natural treatments and supplements.  I have a primary care physician who's been with me all my life.  I have finally come to realize that there are many people in my life that would back me up in a heartbeat. I've got Jesus Christ, who looks fear in the face and swats it away like it's a little fly.  Stein-Leventhal may have won the fight today, but in the end, I will win the war.  Mark my words.

Loving with the Eyes vs. Loving with the Heart,

"The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision." ~Helen Keller

This morning, I got to talking to one of the many girls I meet on a weekly basis at the local young adults ministry I attend.  She always messages me on Facebook, and though most people find it annoying to get the same "Hello" every other hour, I'm happy to know that she finds me as a good friend and is comfortable with doing that.  Our conversation ended up being about one of her pictures of her and a young man that I thought was her boyfriend, though, and then she said this:  Tell me what he looks like.  This girl, though blind, has had this young man as her boyfriend for almost two years (I found this after creeping on her Facebook a little bit... don't judge! You do it too!) and doesn't even know what he looks like!

When we find a person that we want to spend the rest of our lives with, it seems like we have a checklist of things that that person has to meet or else they aren't fit.  And sometimes, though not of personality traits, they turn into those superficial things we want:  blonde or brunette.  Brown eyes or blue eyes.  Short or tall.  They're things that we see visually that we find pleasing.  And though those things are important, shouldn't we focus on who that person is rather than how they look?  I mean, I'd rather date a radish that clicked with my personality than a super hot, Jake Gyllenhaal-esque Norse God from the Heavens and him end up being a cowsack of suck.

I have a friend that means a lot to me that asked me once to help him "find a girlfriend".  Eventually, he opened up to me as to what he wanted in this said girlfriend.  Here's a few that I remember:  short, smart, athletic, Christian, stable relationships with her family and friends, no daddy issues, and she HAS to be pretty... just to name a few.  Talk about huge checklist of things these girls are going to have to compete with.  And yes, he's a great guy, but what a list!  As wonderful as he is, I don't think any girl reading this right now could check every single one of these things off their list.  If he keeps being this picky, how will he know if someone he could have a connection with passes him by?  And the answer?  He won't.  Why?

I believe sometimes, when showing someone love or even showing interest in someone, we should love with the heart, not with our eyes.  Our eyes can sometimes be deceiving.  Though someone may have a pretty face, they might not have the most beautiful of hearts.  Once we can see the true goodness in people with our hearts, I think even the pickiest of people can find love in everyone.

The eyes were meant for sight, but the heart was made for love.

My Buddies Stein and Leventhal,

"When something bad happens, you have three choices:  you can either let it define you, let it destroy you, or let it strengthen you." ~Anonymous

So if you haven't heard (heard the word), I've got two buddies named Stein and Leventhal. Stein and Leventhal have been with me for a few years now... let's just say October of 2009. So these two goons have been up my butt for about four years now, which is crazy to think about.  They've been with me through hook ups and break ups, school essays and reports, graduations, interviews, and college enrollments. They've been a part of my life for a very long time, and I can't really remember high school without them.

Now I know Stein and Leventhal seem like great guys, but they really aren't.  They cause me a lot of pain and sadness every single day, despite always being around.  Because of them, a lot of things in my life have been affected, like my appearance, menstrual cycle, hormones, and ability to have children. I want little munchkins in the next ten years or so, but Stein and Leventhal have said, "Carly, we don't want that for you! We want to be the only things you are concerned about! Why have children when you have us?! And you can also be fat and ugly and alone for the rest of your life while we laugh at everything you're insecure about! Yay!"  How about I get the cute kiddos and they can go away.  Maybe I'd be a little happier.

And with Stein and Leventhal around, my ovaries are even taking a beating! Instead of fully forming and having a period, my ovaries are just turning into little cyst bags or something like that. I bet at this very moment, you're imagining a beautiful picture of two cyst bags in my uterus. So cute.

There are only two things that really bother me about this relationship I have with Stein and Leventhal.

1. I don't know when they showed up.
2. I don't think they'll ever leave.

I can't just find some Harry Potter-like invisibility cloak to throw over these nuisances. I can't buy two one-way tickets to Nigeria for them so that they never come back. When I was told that they were gonna be hanging around for a while, I was distraught. This is something I wouldn't wish on anybody.  But with the help of my true friends, family, and my team of Stein-Leventhal exterminators, I can at least put a blanket over their heads for a while and pretend they're not there.

Today will be the start of my fourth year with Stein and Leventhal at my side. This year, I don't want them to beat me. I want to beat them. They may win the fights, but I will win the war. 

New Experiences,

"Don't fear failure so much that you refuse to try new things. The saddest summary of a life contains three descriptions: could have, might have, and should have." -Louis E. Boone

Having a blog like this is a new experience for me. I mean, I've had a Tumblr for a few years, but I've come to realize that Tumblr-blogging is a lot different than actually sitting down and writing about myself.

I've always been told to write things down.  Funny dreams I come to think up in the middle of the night, how I feel when I hear rain beating on my windows, what I eat on a daily basis. And I think this would be a cool way to be able to share myself in a way I've never been able to before.  So if you're interested, pull up a chair, grab a hot chai or something else super delicious, and come along. I'd love for you to join me.

~Carly