Friday, June 29, 2012

(500) days of summer

It's actually 11 right now so I guess that means that in about 5 seconds I'll look up and it'll be 1 AM, right?

Baby Cousin Steven and his mom came over for dinner today. We Skyped with some family in Guatemala and it was nice. They got to see me chase the baby up and down for almost an hour until he fell asleep in my arms. I set him down on one of the couches and joined my aunt and uncle at the table. My parents had already gone off to church and I didn't feel well so I stayed behind.

I asked my aunt if she wanted any more children and she said no. I asked her how that was even possible and if she was 100% sure. She said there was absolutely no way she'd ever change her mind.

My aunt came here about six years ago. Her and her brothe found stable jobs. She fell in love for the first time at 30 years old with one of her co-workers. The douche knocked her up and then went back to his country. A few months after Baby Cousin Steven was born, his father already had another kid on the way.  Both my aunt and her sweet baby deserve so much better and my heart breaks for the woman who always longed for her knight in shining armor.

She says the reason why she doesn't want more children is because on her own she would not be able to give them all the life she's want for them. With Steven alone, she's able to buy him the best of everything. All of the baby's things are top notch products from the best baby lines there are. She doesn't want to stay here much longer, because she wants him to go to the best private schools in Guatemala, where they'd be close to her parents and the rest of her family, and where she can easily finish off her Masters and make the kind of living she dreams about for the both of them a reality.

This led ud to start talking about me and my education.

She told me about the career she was planning to persue. I don't remember the exact name, but I know that it'll make her good money, and that's why she loves and wants to do it so much.

I told her that that's exactly why I went into business, because that's where the big time money is, but that two years into it I was misserable and that I absolutely needd to think about a new career path.

I told her I knew I wanted to work with children, and that I believed my life purpose was to help as many of them as I possibly could in some sort of way.

And she told me that that is most definitely not what I should be doing.

She says that helping thy neighbor is nice in theory and that charity is good, but that wasn't going to get me anywhere.

She says that someone like me, who likes to spend and be spoiled, needs money to be happy.

And even though I want her to be wrong with every single fiber of my being because that is not the type of person I want to be, I don't think she is.

She said that instead of thinking about children I don't even know, I should worry about my parents. She said that eveything I have I owe to them, which is something that is completely true and I've never denied. I told her this. But she said that I wasn't getting it. She said that someone like me, a twenty year old young woman who's never needed for anything, would not make it in the real world.

She said that if I went into something that involves taking care of other people, I wouldn't be able to take care of myself.

And I can't even be mad at her for turning my whole life plan, or what I had thought through so far, upside down because, dammit, she gave me so much to think about.

As much as I know God will always have my back, as much as I believe that everything will always be okay, this world is a cold, hard place.

Money isn't everything, but fuck if it isn't important.

But being able to walk into Saks and buy things without looking at price tags won't give my life purpose.

I've always dreamed of building my mom her dream house. And buying my dad his dream car.

Giving my money away won't help me do that.

But what the hell, my mom has a house! Two actually. Three if you count the one her and my dad co-own in Guatemala. Four if you count the one that's just under his name, because what's his is hers and vice-versa. And my dad drives a huge Cadillac Escalade. He owns his own company. He runs multiple small businesses in Guatemala from here.

They're fine.

They'll always be fine.

They'll survive if I don't grow up to be a millionaire.

And as I was telling all of this to my aunt, she said it didn't matter, because as much as I owed being the most successful person I could possibly be to myself, I owed it even more to my father.

My father who pays for my private university education.

My father who pays for the roof over my head and the clothes on my back and the food on my table.

My father who wakes up each day after two back surgeries that have him on pain medication for the rest of his life that can only numb his physical pain because he has a responsibility to his wife and kids.

My father who came to this country like millions before him in the hopes of a better future.

My father who couldn't finish school because his family couldn't afford it.

My father whose familiy consisted of his grandparents and their children, because neither one of his birth parents wanted a child at the moment.

My father who came from nothing but now has so much.

And no matter how much of a name and a good life both of my parents had made for themselves, whatever I did for them would never be enough.

And that's what she says needs to motivate me to see a career through that not only will allow me indulgences, but will do more than enough to provide and make sure my parents are always taken care of like I want them to be.

She says I'm smart and I have everything going for myself. She says I'm young and it's okay to make mistakes but that I need to figure things out soon.

As if I wasn't confused enough about my life and where it was going before.

I just looked down at the time.

It really took me an hour and a half to write this?

It probably doesn't even cover half of what was discussed over hot dogs and Coke at the dinner table tonight.

Jesus.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

a smooth sea never made a skillful sailor

It's 1 AM and I swear it was just 11 like 5 seconds ago only it really wasn't so maybe I shouldn't swear it was.
I've been thinking a lot about my relationships with different people and how much they've changed in just one year.
I remember thinking I'd had many best friends before. I've never lacked quality friendships and people in my life. But I was sure my three best friends from freshmen year would be with me always. I was sure that when life naturally pulled us apart, we'd still make time for each other, even if it was a phone call every now and then.

And even though thinking about this makes me sad in the sense that I still love each one of them very much and they'll always have a very special place in my heart no matter how distant we have managed to grow, this has all been a life lesson of sorts.
Find happiness within yourself and whatnot.

Saturday, June 23, 2012

i need the sea because it teaches me

Life has been pretty great.

When I visited my doctor about, what, a little over a week ago, he put me back on Ambien. I had been off of it for almost a month. The first night I started taking it again I actually had hallucinations. I don't remember much except reaching over for my phone at like 4 AM crying my eyes out and calling my dad. My mom slept with me and she says it took me a few minutes to calm down. They asked me what was wrong and I told them that my walls looked like they were melting. And that the Christmas lights that hang over my headboard looked like they were shooting off fireworks. And that all of my dresses were falling off of their hangers. And my lamp looked like a person who wouldn't stop staring at me. I do remember them telling me to close my eyes, but I wouldn't listen. As scared as I remember feeling, I also remember that I knew none of it was real.

Since then I haven't been taking it everyday. I don't want to become addicted to sleeping pills and my doctor says I can choose to take them only when I think I need them. For example, I feel completely and utterly exhausted today, so I'm pretty sure I won't need an Ambien's help to fall asleep at a reasonable hour.

My family and I left along with two of our pastors and their families for a little vacation on Monday. We went to Myrtle Beach in South Carolina and it was absolutely beautiful. The first resort we stayed in was my favorite. We ended up staying in two different places because we were planning on coming home Thursday, but then decided to stay an extra day, and by the time we went to book our rooms for another night, they were already taken. The second place we stayed in was on the same street, and had better pools and amenities than the first, but the view from the living room on the 9th floor of The Camelot stole my heart. I'll hopefully get around to uploading the pictures soon. There aren't really many interesting stories to tell about this trip as opposed to my last trip to a beach with Karen for Spring Break, but this trip was filled with tons of good, wholesome family fun. If I had to pick a favorite moment I think I'd go with the night we walked back down to our hotel, but instead of walking down the crazy, tourist filled street, we walked on the beach. Walking a mile in sand is hard stuff, but I'd look to my left and see all these tall buildings with lights and windows and people, then look to my right and see this endless darkness and stars while cold waves lapped at my feet.

I have another doctor's appointment on Monday. He says some of my tests from my check-up came back negative, so he wants to talk to me in person. I also have to make an appointment with some sort of specialist for some ultrasounds.

For some reason. I'm not scared. I guess everything is kind of hinting to the fact that there is something wrong with me physically, but I'm ready to face whatever it is. Maybe it's something that can be easily fixed. I don't think worrying before I have to is wise. I'll go to my appointment and I'll go to the specialist and we can all go from there.

My pastor said something during last night's service. He said that while sitting in the sand earlier this week he asked himself why we drown in a river of difficulties when we have a sea full of blessings.

I think the power of that statement is kind of lost in translation, but those words really resonated with me.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

i fell in love with the world in you

I am depressed.

Not in a, "I'm just so sad" kind of way, but more like, "I am actually clinically depressed."

And that's what I've been avoiding talking about. Or writing about. But I can't avoid thinking about it.

I hate the label.

I hate that whenever I would hear that word before, the first thing that would come to mind were people who would purposefully hurt themselves or people who've lived really traumatic lives. And I hate it so much because now that I'm associated with that word, I know that's not the case because I am neither one of those kinds of people, and I wonder if others will have those thoughts about me when they find out.

It's not like I'm planning to make some sort of grand announcement. I'm definitely done posting the links to my new blog entries on Facebook. Outside of my parents and my brothers, I've only told 4 other people - 3 of my sorority sisters and my best friend. And actually, I asked my mom to be the one to tell my dad. For some reason I didn't want to say the words to him. And with Bryan and Erik it was a very casual thing. They asked me what was in the bag and I told them it was medicine and they asked what kind so I answered that too and that was that.

My mom's the one who took me to the doctor.

I had been complaining of lower back pain for about a month. One night while I was at school it was really intense. People started telling me that it could possibly be my kidneys, so I freaked out. Heather hugged me while I cried a little bit and called her mom, who is a nurse. She took me to the store and we bought a few things and after trying some stuff out and sleeping on a proper bed that night, I woke up the next morning feeling a lot better. The pain was still there, but it wasn't as bad.

So I'm waiting at the doctor's office and they call my name. I usually get my mom to come in with me because I'm actually a child stuck in a woman's body. But this time I asked her if she could wait outside. So after a few tests the doctor said that everything looked fine. He told me that it could have possibly been an infection of some sort that had ran it's course, but he would send the sample off to the lab just to double check. Thankfully, a few days after that, the back pain went away completely. I think it had a lot to do with sleeping on a couch when I would stay at school, but yeah.

So there I was about to leave and he asks me if I have any other questions or concerns.

I kept on thinking, "It's now or never, Karen."

I was apprehensive to talk to him, because not only is he my entire family's doctor, but he's also one of my dad's very good friends. They're so close that he actually lets us borrow his BEACH FRONT MANSION in Florida every now and then. Yeah, no big deal or anything.

And I know he had to abide by doctor-patient confidentiality and all of that jazz, but still.

I think I said something along the lines of, "...I-I think there might, umm...I think there's something wro-wrong with...um, me."

And the next thing I know, I was telling him every thought and feeling and emotion that had led me to this conclusion. I just rambled on and on and I let it all out.

And I told him that I had no idea where all of it was coming from.

I have such a good life. I am surrounded by so much love. I've never known true hardships. I've never lacked care or attention.

"So why do I feel like this? It doesn't make sense! Why do I feel...stuck?"

And he explained all these different things to me about how sometimes there's a chemical imbalance in people's brains that makes them feel a certain way or how sometimes even the smallest changes trigger emotions.

And what I basically walked away with after that conversation was that I didn't need to try to make sense of it anymore. There was a problem. I recognized it. I decided I wanted to get help. So now I was going to fix it.

In a more literal sense, I also walked away with two different prescriptions. One was for a sleeping pill and one was the anti-depressant. I was on the sleeping pill for ten days, and they were supposedly going to regulate my sleeping habits. They were nice because I would pop one in at around midnight, and be completely knocked out in 15 minutes tops. But as soon as I stopped taking them, my sleeping habits actually got worse. The other night (day) I didn't go to bed until 10 AM! Like, no, Karen. That's when you're supposed to wake up, Karen. So I'm totally going to talk to him about that tomorrow during my follow-up visit. I'm going to be on the other medication for at least 6 months. He said after that we'd see if I felt ready to slowly come off of it, or if I needed to continue on it or maybe even try something different all together. The problem with this is that if I calculated right, this would be around the time of midterms, and I don' think it would be very smart of me to go off of anti-depressants during midterms. Hopefully my doctor agrees and if we both think I'm ready to be done with my happy pills, I think the safest bet would be to try going off of them during Christmas break once I'm done with finals and have the time off of school.

He told me that the next time he saw me, he wanted to see a big smile on my face (since I'd spent a good thirty minutes crying my eyes out with him that day).

So I'll go in to see him tomorrow, and he'll ask me if I feel different, or any better, and I'll say that I do, because that's the truth. I think I'll probably notice a more significant difference once school starts again, because even though I said I didn't want to try and pinpoint this to something specific anymore, school was without a doubt a big part of it.

There's this quote about how just because other people have bigger problems than you, it doesn't mean that yours don't matter.

Try as I might, I can't help but feel a little guilty. There are children who are starving all over the world. Kids who go to bed cold. Who don't have a home or a family. People who've been abused. People who are sick. Dying. Hurting.

I've been handed everything. I've lacked nothing.

Within the last month that I've been on medication, the same questions that I asked my doctor that day have popped into my head repeatedly. And again, I know I said I was done trying to make sense of it all, but still.

"Why do I feel like this? It doesn't make sense! Why do I feel...stuck?"

And my heart breaks for these people who have it worse than me. I cry for the children that face situations that I pray to God I'll never know anything about.

But I think about that quote. And I think that I shouldn't be so quick to invalidate what I'm going through, even if I don't understand it, it's real and it's happening.

And I hope to get better soon. Not that I'm completely broken or anything. I know there are good days and bad days for everyone. But I just want to regain my, I don't know...spark? Whatever it is that I lost, I want it back. I want to be motivated and passionate about life and everything that pertains to it because most days life is so overwhelmingly beautiful that I can cry tears of joy just thinking about everything good that exists in this wonderful world.

So weather it's 6 months, or a year or perhaps even longer than that, I'm going to leave this little thing called depression behind. This little thing that thinks it can constantly bring me down, this little thing that wants to beat me, won't.

And I won't be ashamed of it. I won't be embarrassed by it.

Because one day I will have kicked this little thing's ass so far back into my past that thinking about it won't even phase me anymore.

Just as simply as putting one foot in front of the other, I'll move away from it all one day.