2004

I was sixteen and my life consisted of being with my best friends and scrounging for $6.13 in change to buy a fifth of Kamchatka vodka. There were six of us and we could be found anywhere downtown, yelling obscenities and hanging all over each other. We sprawled out all over each other on my couch, looking like sea lions on the beach, heads on each others stomachs and arms around each other. We ate together, we played together, we depended on each other for entertainment and for understanding. We knew each other better than anyone could imagine knowing another person, let alone five other people. We had a good idea of what life was supposed to be about. Although we never said it, we completed each other. We loved each other, all for different reasons and in all different ways. Even if the world wasn't at our feet, we paid no mind. Even if we didn't have it all figured out, we didn't care because we understood the better things in life.

Now, after jail, after the army, after Australia, after death, after life changing decisions and after finally not being the little one anymore, were needless to say not the same people. I can't remember the last time we were all in the same room together. We don't depend on each other anymore, we hardly even talk. We aren't even a 'we' anymore but for some reason it still feels the same when were together. I guess this what they describe as an engraving of the soul. We make each other feel 16 again, we make each other feel like nothing ever happened to any of us again. After all these years, we are still able to feel understood and accepted. We all took different paths but I have confidence we will all end up in the same place...with each other.

Grief, thou art a heartless bitch.

Stress killed my mother. Her doctors would tell you it was the cancer, the holistic healer would tell you it was the chemotherapy and some would say it was the loss of hope when she heard 'terminally ill'. I, however, am not convinced. I was mad for a long time at the doctors for giving her so many different prescription pills and passing her illness off as a 'head case'. I was mad at the FDA for not telling anyone the truth about what we consume, what we thought was safe because we were foolish enough to believe they care about our well being when it's all about monetary gain. But I was mostly mad at God and the universe because I didn't understand why my mom was taken when we all still needed her. Now, two and a half years later, none of that seems to matter. The only salient thoughts that make a difference is trying to make it through blue moments in our lives that she was supposed to be there for. The hard part is not telling yourself how it was supposed to be. Yes, I feel lost...all the time. I feel cheated and like a part of all of us is missing. I cry about things that I never even noticed before, a little girl holding her moms hand, a teenage girl shopping with her mom, mothers day. At this point in my life a good, solid day is one that I don't break down crying over a Disney movie or on the bathroom floor. Things don't appear to be getting easier which is disappointing because that's what everyone tells you will happen. The truth is, it doesn't. It gets harder. Graduations, engagements, weddings, bar hopping, babies, new boyfriends, A's on tests. None of these things seem to matter as much anymore, or at least don't seem to make you as happy because something is always missing. Happiness doesn't seem like a goal, it seems like a foreign custom that you don't understand. Smiling becomes a chore, irritation becomes that friend that won't leave no matter how loud you curse at it and you have to pray with everything you have left just to make it through the day. Truth be told, everything may not happen for a reason but if I told myself that, the last three years wouldn't seem worth it. If I told myself that, nothing would make sense. So I just breathe and smile, hoping that one day it will get easier and instead of wishing she was here and telling myself that it should be different, I will just breathe, smile and remember how to be myself again.

Being around family helps which is relieving that they don't look at me like the living dead anymore because of the resemblance between my mom and I. However friends are another matter. After she died I made amends with all the people I had a vendetta against or vice versa, in attempt to do the things my mom would be proud of. It turns out it was a waste of energy. Although it helped temporarily, the amends didn't last. I blame myself. I'm not good at being nice to people. I let my temper get the best of me and take a lot of things for granted. I guess the most trialing fact is, is that I feel nothing like my mother. Which in turns makes me feel like shit not being able to be proud of her years of parenting because I'm too busy hating everything around me, including myself. Life is one big paradox, an endless string of catch twenty twos.

I'm not a mother, or a scientist, I'm not even studying clinical psychology. I'm not a helper, I'm not a giver and I'm sure as hell anything but selfless. I make excuses for my behavior that even I don't believe. There are times that I don't know the right thing to do but there is no excuse for doing the wrong thing when you knew the right thing to do all along. And that's what my life has come down to, taking the low road when I had the map to the just road the whole time.

The point of all this self reflecting bullshit? There will be people who don't like you. Always. But it's when you start hating yourself that something has to change. Not that I have any idea how to do that. I would guess it comes down to knowing the difference between the battles worth fighting and the ones that aren't worth the scars. Most important being the fights with yourself.

"The only man a girl can depend on is her daddy"

My father can be found reading car and fishing magazines while watching his favorite movie on television even though he has it on DVD and VHS. He can tell you everything you need to know about Bass fishing in every kind of weather, what kind of car is coming down the street by the sound of it, the great American game of baseball and building a house. He grew up in Detroit, Michigan with his parents and two older sisters. He really is the opposite of a statistic considering he had a father who blamed his unhappiness on his only son, who turned out to be an incredible, patient and loving dad. He was almost in the major leagues of baseball and raced boats in countries that people only dream of going. He was married once before my mom and got divorced because, oddly enough, he didn't want children. His mother planned the same dinners each day of the week which explains his love for routine. He was the definition of 'alcoholic' until the day my sister was born and hasn't had a drop for almost 28 years, the most admiring fact being that he doesn't even miss it. He does, however, drink O'Douls because he misses the taste of beer. He eats porkchops, spaghetti and hot dogs for dinner which he washes down with milk in a glass that has been in the freezer all day (I'm convinced that if we made him eat healthy he would have a heart attack). He's creative, stress-free and funnier than anyone I could ever have the pleasure of meeting. He wouldn't be my dad without glasses, a basebal cap with a curved bill and a shirt featuring a car show from 1994. If I could marry a man that is half the man my dad is, I will be the luckiest girl in the world.

In Retrospect...

I wish I could tell you that everyday feels like a blessing.

I wish I could tell you that it's easy to get out of bed everyday.

I wish I could tell you that you'll always feel okay about being yourself.

I wish I could tell you that you'll feel as pretty as you are every day.

I wish I could tell you that you will always know that everything will be okay.

I wish I could tell you that all the suffering you will endure is for a reason.
I wish I could tell you that you won't ever have to call your landlord and ask for more time.

I wish I could tell you that most of the things you stress over aren't ever going to happen.

I wish I could tell you that you'll never lose faith and that life will never make you feel that it's too hard to believe in anything. 

I wish I could tell you that you'll never be a victim of ridicule and that you'll never regret anything.

I wish I could tell you that you will always feel like everything is beautiful.

Even though some of these things may be true, there will be times where you will lose sight of important things in your life because you feel like the universe has turned against you. Sometimes you're going to feel like your hopes, expectations and dreams are collapsing from underneath you and that you'll never feel solid ground again. Sometimes, you aren't going to feel in control. And sometimes, when you need it the most, you will feel okay with everything. You will gain your balance again and faith will fill up your heart so much that you can barely handle all the love you have for life. And those are the moments that make you realize it's all worth living for.

So I guess what I can tell you is that as you get older you start putting things into perspective. I can tell you to do your best so you never feel like you failed. I can tell you to wake up thankful everyday that you made it through the day before. I can tell you that there are more things in life to live for, than things in life that make you want to leave. And I can safely tell you that you will have problems. You will have a life full of struggle and heartache and hopelessness and I hope you do, because only then will you know how strong you really are and all those obstacles you overcame will one day be blessings. With each problem that you don't back down from you will walk away with that much more wisdom and strength and self satisfaction, making you stronger for the next time. It's only through struggle and through breaking down crying on your bathroom floor and through thinking that universe has something against you, that you will gain the courage and passion to make it in life. The moments that you feel the most helpless are the moments that are one day going to define you. And I hope, with every tiny fiber of my being, that it is the definition that you have been looking for.