21. Gotta Let It Happen

There’s a reason you don’t see hippy vans in the city. On my journey to expand my knowledge and feed my brain I find myself weaving in and out of people as though they are directions of a maze, gaping holes in the o-zone layer. Skimming my shoulder, my bag on a random stranger who’s name and story I do not know. Sharing a brief moment with them, sharing a brief warmth, interchanging bacteria and lint.

The reality is that that’s life.
I am constantly dodging people, cars, cyclists, buses. Constantly feeling that post near-death-experience breeze that sends the strands of my hair flying backwards, exposing the tips of my ears.

I find myself writing inspiration messages on bathroom stales in thick black sharpie. Hoping someone, from somewhere will read my encouraging words and feel positive for a change, feel calm.

It bothers me greatly. The people on this earth are spinning faster than their world and they’re making wind. I am filled with a constant fear that the people around me are going to miss something. Something great, something catastrophic, something. It’s unsafe.

What is the rush? Where are you going that you simply can not look up. Can not slow your pace. Are you not tired of the aching pain in your shins and the burning in your chest? You are not in sneakers and skins. Slow down.

This is your life. And you could miss the most pivotal moments of it, all because you have fallen into the default rut of constantly needing to rush. To walk fast. To swerve through crowds just to get a thirty second head start on where you should be.
You should be here.
You should be alive.
You should not be scowling or knitting your eyebrows together whilst lost in thought, keeping to yourself on the sidewalk.
You should not be breathing heavily as you finally make it on to your train. You should be alive. You should be living. This is your life, right now. And you’re missing it.

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I am often filled with the very powerful urge to delete this blog and start a new one. My mindset is so far off where it was when I started this blog and I feel as thought I am not the same girl who used to spill her thoughts into this text box and put so much feeling into every sentence. However there was a time when I was that girl and those words meant something to me and even if I can not relate to her an inch, that’s okay. Because she moved on and I am exceptionally proud of her. I do definitely still write a lot, mostly in my journal. I feel as though it’s better that way. I’m not sure that anyone really wants to hear every single thought that roams the crevices of my mind, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to blow the dust off over here from time to time. Maybe it’s time to share some updates. 

Let me start with one of the major events of my life, I am into the second semester of my college course. The same college I wanted to go to during my high school period. I have a very vivid memory of sitting with the school counsellor in year eleven and being told that I needed to be more ‘realistic.’ I find that that is the problem with a lot of people. Everything has to be thought of in a ‘realistic’ sense. If I had taken this mans advice, I would not be where I am, so for my stubborn nature, I am thankful. 
I turn twenty this year. I certainly don’t feel twenty. I remember there being a time where my goal in life was to finish high school and I turn twenty this year. Perhaps I should start setting more goals. 
I’m more sure if I would consider myself ‘recovered.’ Maybe I am. There are definitely days that don’t feel as such, however I find that I am stronger in many ways and I am overall very satisfied with how much I have learnt in life. 
I stumble upon people these days who act a certain way and I wonder why there are the way they are and I realise that it is all meant to be. Maybe they haven’t been through what I have just as I haven’t been through what my neighbour has but each life is different and each has light and some don’t ever allow themselves the growth to flick the switch, which is an immense shame but that is how it is meant to be. All I know is that these days, I’m glowing. And that is perfect for me. 

photo (7)Over And Out is just a little project I’ve been working on lately, I’m hoping that it’ll grow into something pretty cool but for the meantime, it’s nice to have a place to jot down some thoughts.
‘I have been spending a lot of my time at the hospital lately. My grandfather wasn’t doing so well for a while there. A sea of worry and hopelessness washed over all of us for a brief time. A hopelessness so excessive, I found myself not recognizing humour and not recognizing joy. But he’s gotten a lot better. The hollows of his cheeks have filled in quite a bit and he’s been walking around, exploring. He hasn’t been released yet but he’s been moved from the coronary care unit to cardiac rehabilitation, which it good.

I’ve been doing quite a bit of exploring myself and found that ironically enough, the people in cardiac rehabilitation have such warm hearts.
A week and a bit ago, my exhaustion levels were high and my optimism excessively low. Today, I realized something. It’s not that bad a place.
It seems that cardiac rehabilitation isn’t just for the patient, but for the patient’s family, and for anyone really.
I’ve found that I really enjoy the consistency of seeing the same smiling people. I’ve made quite a bit of friendly and somewhat awkward conversation with many of the people with who have been feeding my caffeine addiction. There is a constant movement that doesn’t allow for boredom. It’s somewhat like going to a casino. You can sit in the one spot for six hours and not realize how much time has gone by.
You arrive and talk and laugh because things are better and you’re allowed to do these things now. You go to the bathroom, grab a coffee, use the home brand hand sanitizer half a dozen times, sit down, read a little bit, grab a sandwich, have it toasted, grab a drink, eat your food, go to the bathroom, grab another coffee, use the home brand hand sanitizer another half a dozen times, talk some more, laugh some more, laugh a little extra then you leave and repeat it all the next day.
Routine.
Consistency.
Familiar.
These are all good things. And I’m proud of myself. For someone is so easily anxious, I have seemed to pull positive things out of a not
so positive situation and I enjoy this. Maybe a little too much.

I enjoy seeing people and knowing where their room is or knowing who they’re visiting.
I enjoy knowing that the woman who visit’s her husband in bed 23 goes home for a few hours around 1 and comes back in no time every day.
I enjoy knowing that everyone has their own story and I have already learnt so many of them. I enjoy knowing that the two boys and that little girl who walked past me as I arrived where the sons and granddaughter of the couple in bed 24.
I enjoy knowing that I found this information out after having walked past them. The world is so interconnected and everyone has invisible wires connected through relationships and sympathies and glances and simple smiles, these wires are everywhere and coloured and if you could see them and create a key, it would be chaotic. But in a good way.

It is a consistency. The simplicity of a smile. The discussion at the register. My grandparent’s laugh, their love. It is routine, familiar, constant. It is good.’

Do you believe that time heals?
Do you believe that if you wait, if you just keep breathing and try to survive through whatever negative ordeal you’re going through, that eventually everything will be okay?

On November 5th, 2011, around 9:00pm
I wrote a blog post. While I was writing I sat in this same chair, in this same room, and I cried.
Not because anything bad was happening. But because I had finally found happiness. And home. And comfort. And safety. Everything I had ever wanted and thought I’d never have, I had it.
So I sat and I cried while I explained that that moment right there was one of the best of my life, and it was. That entire day was one of the best days of my life, never in my life have I felt that happy.

Today, on July 8th, 2012, at almost 9:00pm
I sit in the same chair, in the same room, and I cry as I type. Not because I’m happy.
Not because I’m anywhere near.
I have had a life that consisted mainly of pain and hurt. A year ago, that changed. Everything became easy, and everything was wonderful.
A year later, where am I?

Sitting in the exact same place, feeling the exact opposite.
It’s like being on a high for a year and then crash landing down.
My happiness is gone. My safety, my comfort, that feeling of home. It’s all been taken from me. And it’s not fair. It’s not fair that all I can do is cry.
I can’t sleep. When I do my dreams are haunted. I wake up, and life isn’t any better. My mind nor my heart allow enough time for me to relax for a moment. All they do is think and ache. My nights and my day’s have been nothing short of torture and I would sooner walk willingly into hell than have to continue on feeling this way.
I want my home back. I want my life back, I enjoyed being happy. I was finally happy. And now it feels like an even bigger elephant is sitting on my chest.

I don’t believe that time heals. Maybe we just adapt into our misery.  
I never broke a single promise, I can’t keep living without my heart. I’m all alone again, but this time it’s worse. This time I know what my heaven feels like, but I can no longer have it.
Time heals nothing. Either something good happens, or we find company within our pain.

To the most amazing year of my life.
May this loneliness end one day.