Eyes wide open

My body has decided that nighttime is the not the best time to sleep anymore. Apparently smack in the middle of my work day or even better, on the subway, or right before I have something important to do, these are the times my eyes feel like lead. My racing heart and wide eyes at 3am suggest that perhaps I am existing in a different time zone then the one I am actually living in. Or perhaps the beast that is the anxiety within me has decided to continue growing regardless of my contentment or peace at the moment.

I'm not sure what to do with it.

What does one think about while laying awake for hours staring at the ceiling? Well, for me, it's basically everything from what outfit I will wear the next day to world peace and the state of chaos in my head. Last night, there was a point where I believe I had gone through every conversation I had had with people that day, and in the past few months. The ones that mattered anyway. I wouldn't recommend it. Although there were great ones, ones that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, there were also the ones that tore my heart into pieces. Note to self: Reliving anything while trying to fall asleep is usually a sure fire way to not fall asleep.

Perhaps I am just wired this way. If that is the case, is there someone I can call or write to request a rewiring? I'd like to disengage the elements of my brain that seem to shoot fire through my body right when it is time to go to sleep. Even when I am about to fall asleep, it's like someone wraps their long fingers down my throat and into my chest, grabs a hold of my heart, and forces it to beat out of control. Sounds disturbing I know. It's not. It's just good old fashioned anxiety. It was wearing a mask for the past decade of my life, parading around as some other form of psychological downfall.

So the questions I've pondered are should I see a psychiatrist? Or maybe a cardiologist? Or maybe a nutritionist, acupuncturist, or stress specialist? Or perhaps, yes this sounds like a good idea, maybe I'll just spend all of my vacation days going to appointments to try and figure out how to make the madness stop! No, that doesn't sound like a good idea at all. I'd like to spend my vacation days going skiing, or going to someplace warm where I can lay for hours on the beach listening to the ocean and feeling the sun on my skin. Yes, that is what I will save those precious days for.

Maybe I'll just move to a different time zone so that when my body is ready for sleep, it might be at the appropriate time. That would only work until I got adjusted though and my body realized I had been fooling it.

It's Friday. I'm tired. I'm not at all unhappy, terribly stressed about my situation in life, or tormented by some over-dramatic love saga. I would love a more stimulating job, therefore bringing in a bigger paycheck, perhaps allowing for me to move into a bigger apartment and live by myself or with someone who doesn't drive me up a wall such as my current roommate does. I would love for the things and people that truly bring me peace to be closer in my life. These things will all happen in time. I have no doubt about that.

The only thing I wish for at this very moment, to happen sooner rather than later, is to sleep through the night. I'll get it back. Even in this uphill battle I have no doubt I will win.

C’est la vie.

I'll figure it out.

Me

We are all wonderfully weird in our own ways. Everything we do and every moment that passes puts a mark on our souls. It helps to continually mold the beautiful people we are forming into. I've decided to share some of my oddities as my blog today. (can you tell I am having a bit of writer's block as of late?) My hope is that in sharing, you'll share something as well. What is it that makes you uniquely you?

I can't blow dry my hair without remembering how my grandfather used to do it for me when I was little.

The exhaust from large buses makes me smile because it reminds me of the ski trips I used to take in high school.

My favorite snack is wheat thins with cream cheese.

I was listening to the song "Blackbird" to tune out the sound of the dreadful needle as I was getting my tattoo in Ireland. Everytime I listen to that song it makes me feel free.

My strongest link to past memories is smell. My nose is like a time machine.

Sometimes I like to lay on my bed with my legs up against the wall letting all of the blood drain into my head. I force myself to listen to the silence of the room. It forces me, for at least 5 minutes, to quiet my thoughts.

I could eat cereal for every meal. Sometimes I do.

Peanut butter is a food group.

I believe in the fairytale. Deep down, I hope for the fairytale even though I claimed I let it go years ago.

Daisies are my favorite flower because they look like they are smiling.

I love swings. The minute I get on one I feel small and completely innocent again.

I was on anti-depressants for almost 8 years. I'm not sure if I am better or worse without them but I'm alive and I'm surviving and that was the goal.

I think dogs are here to teach us how to love unconditionally.

Have a great day everyone!

Somewhere Inbetween

His hair was soft. His overcoat was perfectly camel-colored and his scarf was plaid. His glasses were stylish. His entire ensemble was tasteful yet warm and livable. He carried a black brief case and a plastic bag that appeared to carry the remains of his lunch. He entered the train at Grand Central Station.

He got on and sat down. Next to him sat a young man who had just finished staring himself down in the reflection of the window. He had slid his fingers down his perfectly braided corn rows and looked awkwardly up his nose to assure that nothing was hanging out of it. He zipped up his over-sized, plaid jacket and shrugged his shoulders as if to puff himself up a bit. He was facing forward again as the man in the camel-colored jacket sat beside him. The brief exchange that was about to take place would captivate me. The man sat down, turned to this young man and smiled. This obviously made him feel uncomfortable as he turned away instantly. The young man began digging through his backpack only to pull out a pack of Newport cigarettes. He opened it up and pulled out his metro card to examine it. He then put the card back and made an aggravated sigh as he pulled out a broken cigarette. He looked closely at it as if to see if there were any way he could mend it.

The man in the camel-colored jacket smiled at anyone who made eye-contact with him. It wasn't overbearing it was merely a quiet kindness. His middle-aged skin was smooth. His eyes almost seemed to breed a sense of peace. Looking at him made sense to me and I couldn't figure out why. I then realized what it was. His face was a combination of multiple faces in my life. His eyes matched with his smile, his skin, and his hair. He was a montage of people who brought me peace. His gentle smile and the way he so effortlessly seemed to exude hope captivated me because it reminded me of the people in my life who do that for me. Standing behind a pulpit, offering me freshly baked cookies, standing by my side in the face of loneliness, calling me almost daily at work when things were hard, blow drying my hair when I was little; he represented all of these people.

He got off the train and the past whirled around me. Suddenly it seemed possible that I was the only person who saw this man and that was exactly how it was meant to be.

The young man who had been sitting next to him stood up and started pacing. He began speaking quickly to a girl with magenta hair wearing a large, black bubble jacket. She explained to him he was on the wrong train, he should have taken the 4 to get to the Bronx. She articulated exactly what he needed to do to get back to where he needed to go. He shook his head although it was obvious he wasn't listening to what she was saying. He got off at the wrong stop and paced around on the wrong platform waiting for the wrong train. The girl watched and shook her head and began saying something in Spanish to her mother and they both laughed.

People got on and people got off as they always do. I don't think most of them know that the subway is one of the best places to capture life. We cram into small metal boxes and our lives blend into one another for a few brief moments.

Sometimes if you're lucky you can find the face of something undeniably meaningful in your own life. Other times it's just a metal box crammed with people waiting to get off.

It's only a moment and most of us miss them all too often because we are busy making other plans or waiting on some other moment.

Waiting.

We are all waiting for something.

Waiting...
for Water to boil
for the day to end
for our next drink
for a cigarette
for the timer to go off
for sex
for sleep
for our next paycheck
for an answer
for love
for change
for a better job
for a smile from a stranger
for something to make us feel alive..

We are all waiting for something.

There's a great line that has formed and it's called humanity. We stand on it waiting for something. We might be happy, we might even be satisfied. Even so we silently are waiting for something even if we don't fully know it.

I used to deeply and effortlessly believe in the innocence of love. I used to be that girl. I had my heart shattered and I became jaded. A new love came and I learned slowly to have faith in love again, I let go of much of my bitterness.

But then he changed. His face became blurry and undefined. His soul began rotting. I didn't run. I waited. I waited for the storm to pass. I stood with my head raised and began to swim in the pool of my flaws so as to start to heal the brokenness. I didn't give up. I didn't run. I faced myself and all of my demons.

I waited.

He ran. Like so many times before when life constricted his way of being, he ran.

And now he has returned. His pool of mistakes has not been swam in though and I am starting to realize the water is getting deeper.

How does one survive knowing it's not quite right, and knowing there could be more? Love doesn't give answers and it is up to us to figure it out.

He doesn't know it but I still secretly long for the fairytale. I long for peace.

I am waiting for that peace.

Perhaps it's time to stop waiting and start moving...

Rotting away in Astoria

I got stuck in a subway car.

The doors shut and I was still sitting in it. I had missed my stop and the train was at the end of its course so I assumed it would go back in the direction it came, allowing me to get off at the stop I had originally missed. The doors shut and I realized I wasn't moving. There was no one else on the train and suddenly it seemed like a very small space I was confined in. Air seemed to be getting scarce and my imagination started to go wild. What if it never moved? What if it did move but just down to the old train yard and what if I was stuck in this subway car all night? You can tell I was getting a bit dramatic at this point. I did after all have my cell phone on me and it was in the middle of the afternoon. But the people that are usually everywhere were all at once nowhere. Not one person was walking the platform or getting off of another train. Had this particular train stop been abandoned so that I could rot in the subway car? Could fate really be that cruel? I began to get panicky, all of the doors were locked, I couldn't even move between the cars. I now found myself banging on the window screaming for someone to let me out. Claustrophobia was setting in, it had been at least 10 minutes (and by 10 minutes, I mean 5). Finally I saw someone sitting in the train directly across from the one I was about to suffocate in (again, I was feeling slightly over dramatic at this point). I looked at her and banged on the window saying "please get someone to let me off this train!" She stared at me, hardly moving. She stood up and paused in the doorway of the train she was on as if wondering if she should bother to help me when it was going to mean the train she was on would leave without her. She finally moved and disappeared. Seconds after she disappeared the train she had been on did as well. So here I was again, left to rot on the N train in Astoria.

This is when the story stops being dramatic. She came back with an MTA worker and he let me out. As I let my lungs fill with the same air that I was breathing in the subway car I reveled in the ability to be free! I got over that though as I realized there were people at the opposite end of the track getting on the same train that I had just been trapped in. I smiled to myself and I believe I may have whispered under my breath "you have GOT to be kidding me". Apparently some of the cars in the front of the train had doors that were open, just not the one I had been stuck in. A few minutes later all of the doors were released. Here comes the miserable irony of this dreadfully comical story. I got back on that same train that had held me captive moments earlier, I sat down in the same seat, and it left the station.

I didn't miss my stop the second time. But it was impossible not to laugh at myself and the complete comic relief that comes from some of the situations I get myself into.

I made it to the hair salon that was my destination from the beginning. I got my hair cut, came back home, and now I have this priceless story to tell.

The truth is even when a situation can be rationalized we can be completely capable of believing that we are about to spend the night in a subway car, starving and without enough air. It's a silly story. But it's been a silly weekend so it fits. Sometimes all you can do is laugh.

Next time I'll be sure not to miss my stop.

Secrets

Behind closed doors when we think we are completely alone we all have secrets that we keep.

How many of us are unhappy with our own lives because we spend so much time comparing it to someone else's? Isn't that really the big secret that we all keep? Behind our smiles and our moments of joy we hope we'll wake up the next day and be a little more like someone else. We make choices in life and if you subtracted the world from the equation of those choices we might be satisfied with them. We might sit back and live the life we have chosen and feel settled in that life. There is a silent secret that we all hold. It whispers in our ear that the person sitting next to us is living it a little bit better than we are. The truth is we all lead completely different lives from one another. If we stopped for a moment and reveled in the beauty of that rather than constantly trying to conform to what this society wants us to perhaps we would find that hidden and completely sought after state of being. It's called Happiness. It's called being content regardless of what else you could have been or what else you could be doing. You won't take your job to your grave. You won't take the things you acquired while on this earth with you and your flesh will melt away. What you will take with you is your soul and the essence of who you truly were.

I'm not sure if any of you are familiar with "Post Secret". It's become somewhat of a cultural phenomenon particularly with young people. I went to a discussion/book signing with Frank Warren the other night, he is creator of the idea. I was sitting in a room filled with people from wall to wall. These people were hanging on his every word. It seems the phenomenon is this: we are baffled that one man figured out how to make us feel what we have always desired to feel. He gave us a platform to explore our deepest secrets anonymously yet also completely publicly. Did you know that people all over the world are hurting, they are suffering, feeling inadequate, hating themselves, hating each other? People are crying, people are contemplating death while others are creating life, some are falling in love and others are finding ways to walk away from a love that has died. The world is alive and everyday we completely turn a blind eye to this fact. We don't allow one another to feel. We stuff it down because it looks better. Did you know that almost everyone you pass on the street has something in common with you? Did you know that the man who cut you off this morning on your way to work cried last night for the same reason you did?

Our big secret is this: We are human. We are flawed. We have secrets.

Recognize who you are when no one is looking and carry that with you. Don't allow your life to be a secret.

Do you talk to yourself in the mirror when no one is looking? Do you dance in your underwear? Do you sing in the shower?

Sometimes when no one is looking, I think I am beautiful. I think I have the potential to do everything I long for in my dreams. I believe I can overcome my demons. I believe I already have. I believe my life is not perfect but it's perfectly mine. When no one is looking, my secret is this: I love my life.

The world shouldn't and can't be the reason we doubt our choices or doubt the perfectness of our imperfections.

Who are you when no one is looking? Take that person with you everywhere you go because that is who you are truly meant to be.

Fog

Take an extra moment or two to remind yourself that you have a wonderful life.

Sometimes the words come out of the most unexpected place. You read them somewhere or overhear them being spoken to someone else, or someone says them right to your face. I read the words and it's as if I was forced to read them and feel them. It was a gentle hand pushing me back from the hopelessness that was seeping in.

I've been moving in slow motion for the last few days. My mind has been foggy and the cobwebs have grown around my thoughts. I've been walking down a crowded street surrouned by people but the ground I walk on is covered in quicksand. They rush by me and I've felt stuck. I look around, I look up, and all I see is fog.

But then out of the blue come these words.

Take an extra moment or two to remind yourself that you have a wonderful life...

...And so I do. I take an extra moment and it doesn't feel so bad anymore. Suddenly the quicksand has disappeared and I am moving again. I am writing again. I am feeling again.

It's a block that I know all too well. It comes in waves and usually signifies some demon within me working itself out. It becomes entangled in my being and it feels impossible to move. I don't see people during this time. I can barely see myself. Happiness feels unreachable and life seems immensly heavy. The people around me knock on my door trying to get into my head. It's never that easy. It takes time. But then the moment comes when the fog dissipates and I am free to move again.

Sometimes during these times it feels easiest to be alone. The thing I am learning is that sometimes the easiest thing is not the right thing. In fact I believe all too often it's the complete opposite. Sometimes there will be a person in your life who loves you so much they decide to sit in the fog with you until it goes away. I have no desire to be fixed. But sometimes, on certain days and in certain moments, it feels nice to just have someone sit next to you and listen to the silence.

The demons work themselves out and the inner turmoil is untangled. My chest becomes a little lighter and breathing becomes easier.

Sometimes I go through it and I do it alone. Other times, I look beside me, and I'm not alone afterall. There's someone sitting there, waiting to see my face when I've emerged from the fog.

There are moments. There will always be moments. They are what make life worth living. They are what make continuing to move forward easier. They are the moments when you are hit with the words that force you to stop and realize life isn't so bad afterall. It's just life...

So anyone reading this do me a favor...

Take an extra moment or two to remind yourself that you have a wonderful life.

Eggs

He moved slowly and sat effortlessly on the stool in front of the counter in the classic American diner in Vermont. Hardly anyone noticed him aside from me and the waitress who knew him by name. The place was busting at the seams with people; most of whom were on their way home after ringing in the New Year with a weekend of skiing. Most of us sitting there that morning were tourists heading back to wherever we called home. This man was different. This was his home. His skin was wrinkled from years of life. He hunched over slightly as if he was carrying those years on his back. What was left of his hair sprouted out of his head randomly and his clothes seemed haphazard. He looked warm though and I'm sure that was all that mattered. The waitress who knew him by name smiled as he sat down and asked if he wanted the usual. He nodded slightly and humbly as she placed a napkin with silverware in front of him along with an iced tea with a lemon and a straw. He was squeezed in the smallest possible corner of the counter but he seemed not to notice or care. His arms were tight to his side as he opened the book he had come in with and began reading after adjusting the large glasses with dark brown frames that he was wearing. He read quietly and without a struggle until his food arrived. He then placed the book next to the plate that had just been placed in front of him. He put his napkin on his lap and began slowly and meticulously eating his eggs which were over easy, rye toast, and hash browns. He intrigued me. Most people didn't even notice him. He was all I saw as life swirled around that diner. People came and went, kids were laughing, and dishes were clanking. He represented the moments in life when time stands still and we are granted a sense of peace amidst all the noise. At first glance he may have seemed lonely. I don't think he was though. He had lived and this was the diner where he was so graciously considered a regular in his old age. I don't know much about him. I know that he sat there for about a half an hour and cleaned his plate completely. He made the waitresses laugh as they rushed by him carrying multiple plates of food. He was kind and told them not to worry about him and that he could wait. There was a sense of peace in the way he moved that prompted his face to be engraved in my memory. He paid for his meal, said Happy New Year to the waitress one more time and slowly and effortlessly left the diner with a slight smile on his face.

2007 came without question or hesitation as the New Year always does. It's symbolic of the way life moves on with or without us. For me it also represents the fact that everyday is like a New Year. We get to start over and we get to crawl out of bed and define ourselves all over again. We get to do this until life says we can do it no more. We can stand still. We can drown in our mistakes and our flaws, or we can embrace them. We can hold them close so we don't forget that we are merely human but we can also wake up and forgive ourselves and move on. The shadows will fall. We will fall time and time again. It's in the dark corners that we fail in that we realize that's just life and it's messy sometimes. Picking up the pieces and facing the world even after we feel completely broken is all we can really do. It's uncomfortable, but usually it's the things in life that make us itch that bring us closer to something bigger than ourselves.

I wake up every morning and I feel like I am peeling out of my skin. It's like I've been wearing a layer that isn't my own for 24 years and I am just now learning to grow my own. It's uncomfortable and some days more painful than I care to admit but it is more satisfying than anything I have ever known.

It's like seeing something for the first time that takes your breath away. It's numbingly real and feels impossible at first. It's like ripping a band aid off. It stings. Peeling out of the skin I have been programmed to live in for my entire life stings. Re-growing my own stings even more. But then I have these moments of complete clarity. The world stops moving for a brief moment and I am faced with the beauty of life. It's in those moments that we can just stop, tune out the chaos that is constantly erupting around us, and eat our eggs exactly the way we like them. I like mine scrambled with ketchup, and I love to eat them with a glass of cold apple juice.

The thing I realized that morning is that sometimes life is what happens when you are sitting in a diner watching someone else eat their eggs. It made me smile and it makes me embrace this New Year and all of the unknown territory it brings with it.


Happy New Year...