Having a new crush is always so exiting, from them moment you become aware of it until the time it finally moves into something else. Every little thing about the person is exciting and amazing, and all you want to do is get to know them more and steal more of their time. I wonder why that feeling always fades?

I am completely happy with who I am, but I can't make my body match my heart.

This blog has largely been my forum for working things out for myself, in the best way I know how: by writing. So, I'm going to do that in the space that follows.

I'm feeling unpleasant today. Upset. I would say that my feelings were hurt but that sounds like something that would fall out of the mouth of a five year old. So, I was hurt by the comment of a friend. I'm absolutely sure that she had no intention of hurting me, but still, it hurt. And I don't know if I'm more upset about what she pointed out, that fact that there was something to point out at all, or just that she had no idea that saying such a thing would hurt me so much. Because it did hurt very much.

It is not her fault, or anyones fault at all, really, that the situation exists. Its a thing apart from blame, but a thing that causes me much pain anyway. And sometimes what is painful to one person is another persons joy. So, she pointed it out to me in her joy, because it makes her happy. I suppose that only leaves the problem of her not realizing that her words would hurt me. I thought I was so open. I thought that she would see me the way no one else does because she always sees me that way, but in that moment, she only saw HER.

On top of all of this, I'm upset with myself with being upset about this. But, since when were feelings ever rational? There is a stark difference between the way things are and the way I wish they would be for me and no matter what I do, I cannot change that. The hurt was already there, simmering under the surface, hiding from my conscious mind most of the time, but she turned the spotlight on the difference between she and I, the difference that I wish I could make up, but I can't.

So I'm trying my best to force the sadness back into a corner somewhere, and let joy wash over me. I think the thoughts that made me feel joyful yesterday, but they are only memories now, no longer enough. I'm sure that sometime very soon, I'll forget about the hurt for awhile, but I cant ever escape it, the thing that drove me to the eventual mess of four months ago. Yes, I've recovered from the destruction, but the reasons behind the whole mess are still there. If I hadn't been here in the first place, I never would have gone THERE.

I'm sure that most of this makes no sense to anyone, and I'm sorry for wasting your time if you've gotten this far. I still don't have an answer. I still don't understand.

Crap

I used to have nights where I couldnt sleep and I wasnt satisfied because I just wanted to talk to someone, about anything. I feel that way tonight, and I guess it sucks mostly because I havent felt it in a long time. And this time the feeling is more specific: I want to be sitting in that place with those people again. And I have to wait until Thursday.

Sarah Jo

I only say "the thing" because it still hurts too much to use the right word.

It started as a seed, sometime before it became my everything. When everything else comes to me in waves or ripples or even almost-unnoticed drips, this came as a seed. Most new things wash over me slowly in a fluid way, gently changing the tone of my thoughts or subconscious until every thought rearranges itself to make room for the new one, to make connects in the fluidity of thought. But this thing was a seed.

At first, I rejected it, reacting to the new sensation like a cancer. I avoided the thought, tried to drown it in silence, grind it between the stones of denial. But it stayed there, working its way deeper into the layers of my mind, hinting at the possibilities, the beautiful changes.

Eventually, I accepted it. I poured all of my hopes into the little seed. I shone my imagination onto it until it started to grow roots and branches. They worked themselves through the whole of me, up and down, until even my toes and fingers and hair became extensions of this foreign thought that began to rule me. It was beautiful and exhilarating. It carried me forward and up until I was a creature quite unlike myself, someone new. I didn't see until later how dangerous it was.

But later came. When the thing was ripped away from me, there wasn't any part that survived. My deepest desires, inclinations, and thought processes were churned and shredded until I was completely unrecognizable, but only on the inside. Somehow, my bones and muscles and skin held themselves together while the inside of me turned to ash, my entire inner structure razed to the ground. Gone.

At first there was just pain. I couldn't gather enough energy to form thoughts to even process the change. Only pain. And when the thoughts came, they were only razors and shards, tearing away at the joy and contentment that seemed to be at the core of me. Somehow, I was breathing but I couldn't get enough air. And I didn't want to go on. I prayed that something would come along and end my existence so that I didn't have to hurt anymore. How could something hurt SO much? But the destruction didn't rain from the sky and I had to get up and go to work and then come home and keep going through the motions of being alive.

Months passed. Eventually, the pain turned to a numbness that eventually turned back into feeling. Eventually, I began to rebuild something that looked like my former self. But it wasn't the same, and will never be again. Eventually, I found that my fake smile was real again and finally I felt happiness that was something like what I knew before.

But the thing changed me. I will never again let one thing become my everything. It is much too painful to put so much hope in one thing. I cannot survive something like that again. I never want to be in that place again.

Still, I like this new version of me. I never would have gotten here if it hadn't been for what happened four months ago. The longest four months of my life. Somehow, after all of that, I like me. And now, I appreciate the happiness because I know what it means to lose it.

So if I seem different to you, it is because I am. And I'm happier than I've ever been.

I only left because I had to pee. (Stupid bodily functions!)

I


So I just typed the word "I" and got stuck because I wasn't sure what words would properly convey what I'm feeling. I dont think words can. Actually, they never do. We try our best to make words represent ideas and experiences but all we are ever doing is trying. Anyway, thats not what I wanted to talk about.

I spent the evening at Kidd again, hanging out with Robbie, Dennis, Zach, Casey, Drew, Jared, Josiah, and other people whose names I didnt learn. After Kidd closed, some of us headed to someones house to watch a movie and then I ended up in the parking lot again to get back to my car. Its amazing how something that should take no time at all, like getting out of one car and getting into another, can turn into an hour-long process.

But see, even those words dont convey how it felt to just be. Its seems like I should be able to record this feeling now so I can play it back later when I don't feel so good.

I'm sure I'm much more articulate at normal hours of the day.

Casey asked if I was hurt when I fell out of his van and I told him I'de only hurt my pride, but when I got home I discovered a long, angry scratch on my thigh that is already bruised. I'm sure it will look worse in the morning, but I'm sure my pride suffered more damage anyway.

All I mean to say is that it was great in a way that seems too much for such a thing. Like, being so satisfied usually costs more. And it only gets better from here.

Sarah Jo

You take for granted the things I wish for the most.

School started again, and hopefully for the last time for me. I'm taking Identity and Conflict in Greco-Roman Egypt, Roman Cities, Peoples of the World, and Human Sexuality. This is the first time in my life I have felt like everyone else knows more than me in every class. I have no prior knowledge of ancient Greece or Rome, I'm not very educated about other cultures, and I certainly dont have any experience with Human Sexuality. I feel like the silent, dumb person in the back I've never been. I suppose this should be a humbling experience for me. I'll try to take that lesson from it. I'm not as smart as I thought I was. Or rather, I have so many oppurtunities to learn!

Moving on . . . I'm still playing the "avoiding my parents" game, and it sucks. They make me feel so guilty when they tell me they need money; yesterday my mom came upstairs crying telling me she didnt have anything to eat and she was hungry. Still, Dad had beer and cigerettes so I'm pretty sure their priorities are a little mixed up. Plus, when she tells me she's hungry and asks for money and not food, I begin to wonder exactly what she REALLY wants the money for. Sometimes, I hate it here. Shoudn't home be the one place a person should feel safe?

Well, my safety has moved to the coffee shop, I suppose. I'm meeting some really incredible people lately, and it's just been an amazing experience. People that accept me for who I am, instantly. They don't care that I'm not a christian, in fact, they think thats cool. They want to particpate in a full moon ritual with me. Wait, did I tell you I'm not a christian anymore? This has become a point of conflict in my life recently as people ask me to explain to them so they can better try to convert me back. Whats wrong with letting me believe whatever I want to believe?

Anyway, I'm really just saying all this to avoid the horror of: making dinner, eating dinner, cleaning up after dinner, going to the gym, showering after the gym, and doing masses of homework all in the next three hours. Its not going to happen because there isnt enough time. So, I must sort my priorities, though these all seem like MUSTS to me. I suppose I could sleep less. No one likes a grumpy Sarah Jo though. Hmm. And this isnt helping either. All right, I'm off.

Sarah Jo

I'm hiding from my parents right now because they want money from me. I'm thinking I'l have to find someplace to be all day tomorrow. Too bad Kidd is closed on Sundays. I may just get ALL KINDS of homework done at the library.

Nights like tonight almost make up for how painful life is.

Tonight I spent some time at Kidd coffee watching handsome young men do magic. Normally, I'm excited about one thing, like hanging out at Kidd coffee, but tonight had three: Kidd coffee, handsome young men, magic. It was very entertaining and I got to meet all kinds of new, interesting people as well as see friends I've already made. I love the way life presents you the opportunity to make strangers into friends. Afterwards, I went out to dinner with Johnna. When we came back, some of the guys were still at the coffee shop and I wanted to stay but I wasn't sure if THEY wanted me to stay, so I left.

So I'm happy. I mean, I'm usually happy, but I'm extra happy right now. I just wish I could rewind and stay there just a little bit longer.

I'll tell you a story from work:

Me: Whats your address?
Customer: something something something, apartment G.
Me: Apt. G?
Customer: G as in 'gorgeous' *wink*

Hahaha.

Oh, and an amazing number of people think I've flirted with them. I think the difference between flirting and genuinely being friendly must not be very clear, because I don't think I've ever "flirted" in my life. It sounds like some kind of awkward word-dance I don't know how to do. Why cant we just say, "I like you and I think you're interesting and I would love to get to know you better?" But then, I'm a pretty direct person. I'm not sure this would work with everyone. I believe there are some social rules I missed out on one day at school, like, "things you don't say to people you don't know well." Nika calls me blunt. I just don't see the point in being anything other than perfectly honest.

Where was I going with this?

Oh, never mind. More importantly, I just realized why the whole, "I like you and I think you're interesting . . . blah blah" thing wouldn't work. People flirt to see if the other person is interested as well. I just assume the other person isn't interested.

After all, I've never dated anyone. I've never held hands. I've never kissed (or anything else, for that matter.) And for most of those things, its not because I don't want to, its because no one is interested in me.

Perhaps one day there will be some guy who will be absolutely satisfied with being my first everything.

But I'm not going to think about that anymore because it makes me grumpy and I was in a good mood just a few minutes ago.

I hope you find happiness as frequently and abundantly as I do. And I hope you can survive the painful parts.

Sarah Jo!

Actions speak louder than words. (Or annals of the fat friend.)

A couple days ago a customer told me I had the most angelic face he had ever seen. Then, as if to emphasize, he repeated it again: I have the face of an angel and I radiate pure joy. Once, when we studied the words of the day, my friend said the definition of effulgent sounded like me. Customers, strangers, and friends tell me that I am the most friendly person they have ever met. I am so nice. I am so joyful. Kind strangers say that I have a beautiful smile and gorgeous hair and shining eyes.

And sometimes, when I look into the mirror, I believe them all. For short moments, I see the glimpse of something beautiful inside me, and all around me.

So why can't I remember these things during those moments when I feel so unpretty. I feel like I will always be the fat friend, the friend that everyone is nice to while they ask the other one on a date. I dont want to tell myself that it will be better later; I want it better now. I want everything else about me to be good enough for someone to want more of me. I've wanted it for so long, its like wanting to see the world or wanting to end world hunger, those things you wish for in a way you think will actually never happen.

So, when people give me those compliments, I say "thank you" and I try to soak them up as long as possible. I let the coolness of the words sink as deep as they will go and I hold onto that feeling until it is enough, but it must be enough, because there might never be more than the kind words of strangers, the distant hope that something else might come along later, something people write songs and stories about. Something I apparently dont deserve.

I was so scared

Something was terribly wrong with my mother. She could barely walk, half bent-over and swaying from side to side. She couldn't talk, mumbling incoherent things and asking questions I didn't understand. She was confused, not understanding how she got to the bathroom or how to walk back down the stairs. Her face was slack, her lips and cheeks and eyes didnt move when she spoke. I was terrified.

So we went to the emergency room tuesday night. Now its Friday, and she is finally coming home. Turns out, she has congestive heart failure and something calld COPD. She must have had these things for awhile. We've been to the emergency room before when her legs have swelled up and she passed out and couldnt wake up, but they just gave her an IV and sent her home. We didnt have insurance, and she was dying. This time, we went to a different hospital, insurance in hand. We got help.

Apparently, she got so bad the last couple days because her lungs were filling up with fluid. If we had waited another day, she would have died in her sleep, suffocating. At the hospital, they pulled bags and bags of fluid out of her. She lost thirty pounds. Now, she'll have to take about four different pills and day and stop smoking.

More than that, she sounds like my mother again. I had assumed that the death of her mother had caused this change in her, making her confused and tired all the time. Suddendly, this woman I've missed is back and I know just how close I came to losing her. I was so, so scared.

Something I just found:

We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.

- Henry Charles Bukowski

Daylight come and me (don't) wan' go home.

If its okay, I would like to say some things here that I cant say to my father:

You make it so I don't want to come home. Do you know that? I try to figure out places to be until you are asleep so you wont ask me for money. You dont listen when I say no. You make me feel guilty and unreasonable. And now, I am having nightmares about you. In my dreams, you steal from me until I am in debt and then say you had no choice. In my dreams, you don't care, and I'm beginning to think that you don't care now. I am trying my best to lay down a foundation for my future, a future where I am not poor, living from paycheck to paycheck, like you. A future where I can take things like toilet paper, running water, and a place to live for granted. I want to know what its like to not appreciate the toilet flushing. Is that wrong of me? But you, you make it so I have to bail you out of jail and pay the rent and the water bill and wonder what will happen next while I try to pay off my credit cards. And I feel guilty about going on a cruise with my friends because I know I cant afford it because of YOU. But more than any of this, I am most troubled by the fact that you make me NOT WANT TO COME HOME. If I cant come home, where can I go? This has always been the placein the world that I feel the most comfortable, even when I dont feel safe, but now I dont like being here. It is like a film on the walls that clings to my skin and gets into my lungs and follows me out the door. What do I do? I love you, but you are making me miserable.

In other news,

I took myself out to dinner tonight (for aforemention reasons) and with my reciept, the server gave me his phone number.

I've been reading some new-age books.

So I've been trying really hard with this whole thing about positive thinking attracting positive energy to your life and negetive thinking attracting negetive energy. I've been thinking positive about things and not focusing on the negetive. I do feel better, most of the time.

But is it okay that I now feel guilty whenever I start thinking negetive thoughts? I think about how I am unhappy, and then I'm feeling unhappy and guilty, and where has that gotten me? I do think that positive thinking will cause me to carry out actions either conciously or subconciously that will work towards my goals, but I don't know about never having negetive feelings. Its not working for me. Instead, they are sort of festering under the surface inside the little bubble I've forced them into. How do I find a balance?

Because I am still unhappy, and I try not to think about it but then I see the youtube videos of all the wls girls or I go to the movies where the seats are almost not wide enough or I worry about how much damage I do to my own furniture simply by sitting on it. Is it okay for me to be upset about these things, or should I pretend that I'm not upset and hope that I eventually believe the lie?

Dwelling on how upset I am will fix nothing, but I cant not cry sometimes. Where do I go from here?

Dream Board

I made a dream board. All the instructions on the internet said to use pictures to represent your dreams, but I like words better than pictures, so thats what I used. The center image should be of yourself or something you enjoy looking at; mine says, "I am happy." surrounded by white space. Nothing else, no conditions, no pretty pictures or fancy caligraphy.

I've been so unhappy lately and it seems that everything I want is just beyond my reach, impossible for me to ever attain. So, here they are, the things that matter most to me, all laid out in plain text on white paper.

The plain piece of paper at the top is for things so great, I would never even dream of them. I thought I should leave room for that.

I'de like to share

something that just came out of me during an IM conversation:

me: I hear all kinds of people that say, "I'll be happy when. . ." It makes me wonder if "when" ever happens, of they spend their whole lives waiting. I could say, "I'll be happy when I'm not fat anymore" or "I'll be happy when I finally move out of my parents house" but that would be many, many unappy days, waiting. And then when I'm not fat anymore, I'll find something else to be miserable about.

So, I'm happy today. And I was yesterday. And I willl be tomorrow.
even when it hurts
even when it takes all my strength