I'm a work in progress, just like my stories.

“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.” - Jack Kerouac

“One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.”

I keep having dreams about Spain. Nothing in particular that would stand out enough to write about-- I still don't feel like i'm going back, but I do feel like i'm running out of time to see everyone and do everything I want to at home. I really wanted to see Amy before I left. She can't come out for New Years..and it made me so sad. The majority of my short time back at home was spent recuperating-now I feel cheated in a way. It'll be interesting what I have to say when i'm coming back home again. Feeling like I ran out of time to see everything...we always choose time as our preferred opponent. I'll probably also be just as whiny about packing. I hate packing, you always forget something important..but small. Like a comb. Or toothpaste. Hanna told me to make a list.

In an attempt to be organized, after 1 month 1/2 i finally unpacked my massive suitcases. I felt really productive that day..but now i'm kind of stumped why I unpacked in the first place. Anyway, Mandy asked me to bring her ranch corn nuts.

It's weird though, I haven't wanted to write what happened to me there..thus a bunch of entries with quotes. I think because i'm still ruminating about everything, soaking it in. It was the biggest decision I have ever had to make-- To tough it out without help, or go home and tough out having help..feeling judgment. Maybe I was afraid of feeling weak, accepting defeat? I know that sounds crazy, but it's true. I still feel uncomfortable when I bump into someone and have to explain what happened. I don't like that about myself. I'm a work in progress, just like my stories.

I started thinking about where that discomfort comes from, and it's definitely rooted in always being the strong one, taking care of myself. Definitively, since the age of 5 I have felt this pressure to be great, do great things..and never crack under stress. The pressure isn't a bad thing, but a constant reminder of what i've done, who I am, and ultimately who I want to become. I guess the weird thing..the saddest thing.. about this random journey is that I don't have the confidence in myself the way my family and friends do. Part of me is strong, unbendable--but that's because i've had to be, I couldn't change my circumstances so I just dealt with it by smiling instead of crying.

Recently, i've learned a lot about myself and what my strengths/weaknesses are..what I need to change and what will always stay the same...i'm the absent minded professor, the person laughing while standing in line about a random thought, I cover up being shy by babbling about everything and nothing at the same time, my organization is impeccable, I have the strangest dog in the world but nothing could suit me better and i love taking care of her, my OCD deals with things being symmetrical (it drives my mom crazy), I like being spontaneous but am equally stubborn when my mind is made up, working out keeps me balanced, I generally read a book in one sitting, and I love listening to other people tell stories..or just talk.

This summer in particular I learned that you can't run from things, because they always catch up to you. It's annoying but true. I hate being sad or bitter, so in an attempt to ward off any unhappiness I distract myself (usually in the form of cleaning and organizing EVERYTHING) Insomnia eventually wins and then my journal becomes my place to get piece of mind. I went through and read some of my old entries, dating back to 2006 when Lenna passed away and my dad left. It's frustrating to look back on how much i struggled to grapple with their loss. I think Lenna would be proud of me these days. All things considered, I still struggle, but i'm doing better..i'm moving on even though sometimes I feel like it's 2 steps forward, 3 steps back.

For a long time I haven't written a really reflective or in depth entry--These past 2 months have been a period of growth. It killed me to be sitting in my room, alone, thinking about how something as random as Mono changed everything. I can't think of a better way to explain it. I can't believe I pushed myself to the point that I had a seizure the week before I left for Spain. I've never been so scared in my life. Well, to be honest--being asked if I was pregnant or on diet pills by paramedics in a room full of practical strangers is pretty terrifying too lol.

Anyways, after finally making in back home in one piece-- I didn't want my life to be on pause, stuck in first gear. All I wanted to do was be active and get things going again. It still baffles me that I would get weak going downstairs to my kitchen. Too tired to eat. To add to the discontentment, was when my brother told me my Dad was coming to visit him.
It was the past affecting my present my new..separate life from him. He also told me my dad asks about me. It weird how a simple statement can have such an affect--it makes me feel like I got punched in the stomach and can't breathe. It was the first time my mom and I had a real talk about it. She avoided the house that day too. They've been divorced since I was 3 and she couldn't even feel comfortable. That validated me in a way, to see the strongest most independent woman...slightly off balance.

I can't imagine what is coming my way with the next few months. I feel like my life is a revolving door--as if, as much as things change some things stay the same. I'm the same, just a little less wide-eyed..and little less unsure. I'm still nervous about things beyond my control..but i'm strong again..in my own quiet way--i'm here..present..and that's enough for now.