(This is something I wrote about three years ago and I just came across it and felt like sharing it)
Music comforts me when I need it most. It touches my heart. My mind overflows with emotions and I am no longer here, but in my dreams.
A place where all things are possible. A place where loves knows no limits. A place where there isn't any sorrow. A place where happiness is endless. A place where I can be me.
Me. I am nothing extraordinary.I still search for myself. I'll find it in the unexpected and unknown. I'll find it in the lives of others around me. Me.
I am but a simple girl. I've known grief, sorrow, and pain. I've known happiness, love, and peace. I've been selfish instead of self-less. I've hit rock bottom....rock bottom. I've felt like there was noting left to live for. I've seen darkness and allowed it to fire every fiber of my being. It blinded my spirit until there was nothing left, but a million broken pieces. I've shunned my faith when it was my only hope. I...me....I am nothing special.
Yet, when I see where I've come from...I know I am something. Each road I took lead me to a place. Happy or sad. Bright or dark. Each stumble, I picked myself back up again and along the way I learned of love, hope, faith, and peace. I am strong, beautiful, and confident. Mistakes are but scars, barely noticeable, yet life changing.
I am loved. I love. I live my life. There is still so much to find, so much more to learn, experience, and discover.
Journeys are all about discoveries. My journey will be amazing. I have the love of friends and family. Love keeps you going. It lights the path of each journey I embark on. Inspiration, faith, hope, and love guide my heart
Monday, March 19, 2012
“Messing up…..it’s what makes a person.”
I started out this past Friday great. I woke up from a restful night of sleep. I got to wear jeans to work. I had on a cute shirt. The weather was warm and beautiful and I decided to wear my Ed Hardy flip flops. I got to work and was informed flip flops and jeans with holes (which mine were) were against company policy. Thankfully, I had a spare pair of slip on shoes. What I didn’t take into account, was how ridiculously those shoes looked with my boot cut skinny jeans. I felt like a duck. I looked like a duck. I walk into my office complaining about the fact that I looked like a duck. I was immediately told by a fellow worker to “Shut up.” Feelings hurt. I began to plead my case, “I had on cute flip flops then my mom (yes, I work with my mom) told me (mimicking Mom), “That’s against policy. You cannot wear flip flops.” Another co-worker walks down the hearing my story and says to my mother/boss/co-worker, “She is just being dramatic…just so you know.” Mom laughs and says in a half joking; half disgusted tone, “Yea! We know SHE is dramatic. SHE went to ACTING school.” Feelings hurt again. I smiled the best I could and walked into my office. I could feel the heat, the blood, the tears getting ready to pour. I was pissed. I was upset. I was embarrassed. I asked my main boss and supervisor for the day off and left work.
I spent the entire day crying over a snide comments and the fact that I felt and looked like a duck. Whether I was looking for reassurance that I didn’t look like a duck, or trying to be funny about my situation I ended up getting hurt over something stupid. It was a BIG DEAL to me then, now as I sit here writing this I am slightly embarrassed. Me, a typical girl, PMSing, emotional and completely irrational, unable to control my emotions…allowing myself to be controlled by others.
I guess the hardest part of adulthood, and working for a BIG company is learning how to control my emotions and separating personal life from work life. I have been at my job for almost two years. I still make mistakes. I still am learning. Funny thing is, office politics is a lot like high school. It seems hard to be an adult, when people are still acting like seniors in high school.
I will be taking a class in April that teaches you how to cope with stressful and emotional situations at work. I hope it will give me good advice, tips, coping mechanisms to deal with my future work situations.
Of course, mistakes are okay to make. I think I’m finally allowing myself to be okay with this. I may sit here and write and preach about it. Most people (kids included) struggle over the fact that a mistake has been made.
I think I’ve heard somewhere “You got to mess up to grow up.”
Friday for me was a lesson. Friday for me was a mistake. Later, I felt stupid for just getting so angry that I left work. I should have stayed and made the best of it. I allowed myself to break. I’m making a promise to myself right here and now to never let this happen again.
I’m hard on myself and I know this. I allow myself to get emotional and I feel it is a bad thing. I give myself any credit for how well I’m doing. I have a good job. I can pay my bills. I OWN MY CAR. My credit cards are almost paid off.
I think the reason I get so “ugh” is because I am truly struggle with the fact that I am not doing what I went to school for. The reality of moving elsewhere to pursue it scares me. Yet, then I’m reminded I’m young. I’ve got a whole life ahead of me. Maybe someday soon, I will get there. I know when my time comes it will be the right time for me. The perfect time and everything will fall right into place. If I got to mess up and make mistakes a few more times before I get there then so be it. I will be a better human being for it.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
“Remember when we were little and we would accidentally bite a kid on the playground? Our teachers would go, “say you’re sorry.” We would say it, but we wouldn’t mean it. Because the stupid kid we bit…totally deserved it. But as we get older, making amends isn’t so simple. After the playground days are over, you can’t just say it. You have to mean it.”Of course, ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t’ always cut it, maybe because we use it so many different ways…as a weapon…as an excuse. But, when we are really sorry…when we use it right? When we mean it? When our actions say what words never can. When we get it right, ‘I’m sorry’ is perfect. When we get it right, “I’m sorry” is redemption." -Grey’s Anatomy
One more chance…that is all I wish I had. Twelve years ago this fall, I lost my Papa. From the age of three to the age of ten, he was my world. He made me the best tuna sandwiches. He let me ride on his riding lawn mower. He always had candy. He always did something special and memorable with me. To this day, I still miss watching football with him. I miss the smell of his cigarettes. I miss the smell of his cologne. I miss his smile, his life, his hair…it always look like he had bed head.
I was unaware of my Papa’s alcohol problem until Grandma had to come live with us. He had turned into a mean, abusive, hateful man. I did not recognize the man that he had turned into. Grandma lived with us for three years and maybe a year or two later Papa died. He drank himself to a mere 80 pounds. He died in a veteran’s hospital bed, in my Grandma’s arms. Two days prior to him passing, my mother made my brothers and I go up to the hospital to say “good-bye.”
I was fourteen. I had just moved to a new city. I was going to be in a new school. I was not in a happy place to begin with. My mom walked us to his room. There in the bed, laid a child. My Papa was this tiny yellow, wrinkled ball of nothing. I understand now that he was yellow because of the liver damage due to years of excessive drinking.
My mom lifted my brothers up first to kiss him on the cheek and say good-bye. They were escorted out by my great Aunt Anne. I was next. He grabbed my hand and slowly pulled him towards him. He quietly whispered, “Jennifer Lynn…I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you.” I kissed him on the cheek and walked out of the room.
To this day, I regret not letting him know I forgave him. To this day, I regret not letting him know I loved him too. He was on his death bed, his last “sorry” was his redemption.
This isn’t an easy story for me to tell. I have to fight and choke back tears every time I think back to this moment in my life. Maybe at fourteen, I was just no good at saying sorry.
From the moment we are able to speak and understand, saying “sorry” is a part of life whether we mean it or not. It is true that as adults, our playground days are over and we have to mean it. Holding on to guilt, regret, tension, anger, love, passion, hate…will do you no good. Let “I’m sorry,” be your redemption like it was for my Papa.
To the girl I mistreated in grade school: I’m sorry.
To my brother, Mike: I’m sorry for being hateful to you as kids.
To my brother, Matt: I’m sorry for being “motherly” toward you. I only mean well.
To my Papa: I’m sorry. I love you. I forgive you.
To my friend: I’m sorry I hurt you.
To my cousin: I’m sorry I left things the way I did. Hopefully, we can repair the past and move on to a good future.
To the boy in my 10th grade math class: I’m sorry for leaving that anonymous love note from a secret admirer. It was cruel of me.
Remember, to mean it when you say “sorry.” Get it right, and redeem yourself.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
“If life’s so hard already, why do we bring more trouble down on ourselves? What’s up with the need to hit the self-destruct button?”
I used to be notorious for hitting my own self-destruct button. I would blame myself and beat myself over instances I had no control over. It used to be “I didn’t get cast in a show.” Push the self-destruct button.“I wish I would have done better in college.” Push the self-destruct button. Now, it’s “I keyed in the wrong numbers and screwed up a report.” Push the self-destruct button.t’s so easy to beat yourself up for life’s troubles. All I can say is don’t…proceed with caution. Enjoy the moment, learn from it and move on.
Awhile back, I had to wear this rubber band bracelet. It was given to me by my therapist in an effort to calm my anxiety, stress, and moments of flashbacks. The moment an “episode” came on I was allowed to give myself two minutes to think about it, cry, panic, do whatever I want. At the end of the “episode,” I was to turn the bracelet inside out or right side in and move on. This was the best coping mechanism I was given.
This coping mechanism allowed me to feel my emotions, my pain…whatever it was I was feeling at that moment. And then, I flipped the bracelet and it all went away. I was able to continue for the rest of my day.
There were days I flipped that bracelet a 100x. There were days I flipped it 25x. Those days grew far and in between and after about six weeks of wearing the bracelet, I no longer have to wear it. That bracelet (to me) symbolized power and allowed me to feel my emotions and not hide. We cannot hide or bury our emotions, like lava eventually it will just come shooting to the surface destroying everything in its path.
Life is hard. Life will always be hard. There is no need to make it harder. On my wall are the words, “Live, Laugh, Love,” such simple words that hold so much power.
LIVE: “All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better.”-Ralph Waldo Emerson
LAUGH: “Laugh as much as you breathe…”-Author Unknown
LOVE: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”-I Corinthians 13
Live. Laugh. Love. In the end, there is always love. So, tomorrow be good to yourself. Be kind to yourself. When life’s troubles start to get you down, remember it is okay to panic and feel it out. Allow yourself the joy to learn from that moment and move on; and put that self-destruct button away. Okay?