So it's been a while. Mostly over the fact that I have no computer and I refuse to blog from my phone and partly because I have too much to say and undoubtedly not enough people to listen. Sometimes my biggest desire is to literally fall off the face of the earth and see how long it takes for someone to notice. But as alone in so many ways as I feel, I'm also filled with this unmatchable joy. My daughter squirms inside of me of what feels like the entire day, and although uncomfortable, she makes everything less empty. I am positive no one knows what love is until they know the love of being a parent. No, she isn't out and about and I can't hold her in my arms yet, but I'm her mother. She's my little girl.

So much is going on in my life and yet, nothing is. I watch days slip by me and feel the drain of non-productivity. I don't like the feeling of wasting away.

I need that passion back. That driving sense of purpose that saved my life more than once.

The world just keeps spinning.

Root of it All

Depression is a funny thing. Last night Michael told me he didn't get it. He didn't understand why I could be so sad and really, for so many years. His reasoning? He got over his depression, why couldn't I get over mine. That sort of comparative thinking drives me crazy. But this is the world we live in.

I am not clueless to why I'm oh so blue. Even on days when being sad doesn't make sense I know deep down why I am. Relatively I've been depressed since I was 7 years old. That's 16 years man. It got worse when I was 12 but that's just because hormones kicked in and really, they aren't helpful with much. But seriously, every single moment of despair I have felt has been linked to a single cause. Drum roll please?

I'm lonely. That's it. Simple as that. From being teased endlessly, to moving too much at the worst times, to being left behind and abandoned, to being an outcast, to dealing with cancer much on my own, to being let down by every single person that I've let in that resembled abandonment and betrayal. It's all the same thing. I'm so very lonely.

I'm so much better when I'm around people. Even if nothing on my exterior changes. That my friends is called a mask. A defense mechanism. A way for me to prepare for the inevitable fall out. But in reality, having company is all I need. Having interaction. Real interaction. A hand to touch, someone to hug, a voice I can actually hear. Why do you honestly think I have had a boyfriend since I was 15? Because I needed someone. I needed not to be alone. Even to the point where I put up with so much more than I deserve. I didn't want to be alone so I stuck around. It's not about love, really. It's about attachment. It's about my fear of it just being me and only me forever.

Now don't get me wrong. I didn't use my boyfriends or not love them. In fact I always fall way too deep and am overly committed. But really I know that my primary function in life has been to not be lonely. Youth ministry is something I thrive in for a few reasons. A lot of it has to do however with the group atmosphere. It is a ministry that is not singular. It has to be group-oriented and team focused. No one can be lonely for it to succeed. Same goes for sports and for the Church as a whole. These are the places I am at my greatest.

When I was 13 I wrote a simple poem. It's nothing spectacular but it's truth :

Loneliness

A cold fearful hand

 That grabs at your heart

 And pierces your soul;

Overwhelming you with emotions

 You can’t control

Being lonely kills people. It's not some mystery. We weren't meant to be alone. 

Mindless Chatter

I came to my parent's for the weekend because I desperately didn't want to be alone. Well my brother ignores me, my dad is sleeping, my mom is at the casino and my sister went out with her friends. I should have just stayed home. My bed is so much more comfortable.

I spent the last few hours cooped up in my sister's room re-reading Perks of Being a Wallflower. It was just sitting there on her desk and I had nothing better to do with my time. It's a great book, but I think it makes me think too much.

Before my sister left for the night I asked her if she was going out to party. She kind of just laughed at me and I replied on how I had no life and I came here for company and was getting none. My best friend is out living the college life, and Michael is out of town. Other than them, I have no one and that's the sad truth. Marisa tried to say I had other friends but I just shrugged her off. Please, someone tell me where all my "friends" are. Actually, tell me who they are.

Sometimes I wonder why I've never really had many friends. I'm a likable person and generally people like being around me. Yet nothing with me sticks. Or I guess, no one. Sometimes I think about mine and Erin's life and I panic thinking about how it's going to work. How it even does. I think for a long time I was okay being isolated, so to speak. Since I was 15 I've had a boyfriend and really, my life pretty much revolved around them. They made me not alone. Michael and I are so much different. I don't see him every day or talk to him every second. I'm not one person with him. We are two individuals in a relationship. Which honestly, is a lot healthier than anything I've ever been in, but at the same time, it's lonelier too.

I'm rambling. I ramble when I hurt. When I'm scared. When I'm feeling too many things and I don't have control on what I'm about to say, and certainly not what I'm about to think. There is this void in me that's inescapable, and really, only matters to me.

I keep thinking about the conversation I had last night. It angers me when I'm not one to get angry. I'm frustrated with all these misconceptions and no understanding. Of being stranded on an island of my emotions  and everyone sending life boats to the side of the shore I can't reach.

I often think about my role as a mother. Of how badly I don't want to fail. Of how someone who is as broken as me could have possibly created what I did. I'm terrified and not at the same time.

It's an uncomfortable thing for me to say that I need you. Especially knowing I can't count on you. I think that might be the worst of it. I can't turn to no one.

The first time I attempted suicide was because I felt like a failure and I couldn't handle it. The second time I was overwhelmed and didn't want to continue living and being so alone. Thoughts will always cross my mind, but it's comforting to know how really in control I am of my actions.

I have so much faith in me. Really. Even now.

All Too Well

I walked through the door with you
The air was cold, but something about it felt like home somehow and I
Left my scarf there at your sister's house
And you still got it in your drawer even now

Oh your sweet disposition
And my wide eyed gaze
We're singing in a car getting lost upstate
The Autumn leaves falling down like pieces in their place
And I can picture it after all these days
And I know it's long gone, and that magic´s not here no more
And it might be okay, but I'm not fine at all

Cause here we are again on that little town street
You almost ran the red cause you were looking over me
Wind in my hair I was there I remember it all too well

Photo album on my counter
Your cheeks were turning red
You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin size bed
And your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the t-ball team
You tell me about your past thinking your future was me

And I know it's long gone, and there was nothing else I could do
And I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to

Cause here we are again in the middle of the night
We're dancing round the kitchen in the refrigerator light
Down the stairs I was there I remember it all too well

And maybe we got lost in translation
Maybe I asked for too much
But maybe this thing was a masterpiece
´til you tore it all up
Running scared, I was there I remember it all too well

Hey you called me up again just to break me like a promise
So casually cruel in the name of being honest
I'm a crumbled up piece of paper lying here
Cause I remember it all all all too well

Time won't fly it's like I'm paralyzed by it
I´d like to be my old self again
But I'm still trying to find it
After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own
Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone
But your keep my old scarf from that very first week
Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me
You can't get rid of it, cause you remember it all too well yeah

Cause there we are again when I loved you so
Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known
It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

Wind in my hair you were there you remember it all
Down the stairs you were there you remember it all
It was rare, I was there I remember it all too well

Taylor Swift <3

Alexis Marie Gray

I had never known more love than in the moment I saw her. Ever since I knew I was pregnant my heart has swelled with complete love and devotion for the tiny baby forming within my womb. However seeing her for the first time last Tuesday took my breath away. It was the hardest thing to keep from getting completely hysterical as they showed me every tiny part of my daughter's body. Tears kept escaping my eyes and I felt myself shaking. Nothing could ever be possibly more perfect than my little girl.

I'm not going to lie though. I am beyond terrified of having a little girl. The world of dresses, make-up and hair is a foreign one to me. The color pink makes me slightly uncomfortable and raising a little girl to be a woman seems almost like an impossible challenge in a world of Cosmopolitan magazines, airbrushed models, and shorts that are just way too short. The insecurity that haunts my own life is something that I would never want to pass on. I want her to embrace the body she's in, no matter what, and to always know and feel beautiful. I want her to live fearlessly and love without restraint. I want her to not be afraid of making mistakes and realize that perfection is a state of mind and not an actual thing. I want her to laugh freely and dream without limitations.I want her to succeed as well as fail so that she may grow and know the beauty of not just happiness but of heartbreak and therefore be stronger because of it. I want her to know the power of prayer and the greatness of the God that created her. I want her to find a friend that is as amazing as her godmother and my best friend. I want her to find a man that loves her as much as her father loves me. I want her to be proud of the decisions she makes and not be afraid to take steps on her own. And perhaps selfishly, I want her to know that no matter what she will always be my little girl and I will be there forever to catch her if she ever falls.

Lexi Marie. I find myself falling into a pile of tears every time I think about you and the journey we will continue to travel. I eagerly anticipate the day you are lying in my arms and I hear you cry for the first time. My entire life I have striven to be perfect. I have failed every time. Yet even through my ugliness and sin I have managed one perfect thing, and that darling is you.

The words I love you will never be enough.

Announcement (finally)

It is my opinion that our biggest mistakes are what shapes our lives, not our biggest success. I believe that if we are intelligent enough to learn from our mistakes and face the consequences head on we become better people. It is in our error that we are humbled and brought face to face with the reality of our humanness. We are sinners and a fallen people.
Yet just as Christ came and died so we may be forgiven, so does His endless mercy flood us in our mistakes. In our brokenness Christ holds us and loves us despite every flaw we have, and gives way to make every mistake turn into a blessing. Sometimes we just have to look really hard to see it, and sometimes it's as plain as the nose on our face. Most importantly however, we need to allow Him into our lives in order to see the beauty in which He reveals.

I have made many mistakes in my life. Probably more than most. I struggle tremendously with various things yet my experiences have shaped me into someone who does not lack the understanding of suffering and struggle and I am able to relate to so many through my compassion. There have been many times where I have gotten lost, but even if I'm hanging by a thread, I have clung to my faith and that has been the pillar of my survival.

I cannot say what anyone's opinion of me is, nor can I fairly judge if that opinion will change drastically in what I am about to reveal. I do know however that God has granted me the greatest blessing in perhaps my silliest mistake. So if I am a disappointment, I am beyond sorry. But my apology only goes toward the negative emotion you feel, not the results of my actions.

I am 17 weeks pregnant and I love my baby more than anything in the world.

To those who have known for months and have supported me, thank you. To those who receive this news and are joyful, thank you. And to those who are disappointed in me, thank you too. I am not unaware of where your feelings come from. However, I wish not to condemn myself, but to celebrate the life that is flourishing so beautifully inside of me. If you cannot join me in my celebration I understand, but really, it more your loss than mine.

September

On September 7th, 2011 I fell in love with you. That morning you surprised me and came and made breakfast for me. We sat outside on my patio and enjoyed each other's company. To me, everything felt so weird. Sitting outside, eating with someone who just a month ago I never wanted to talk to again. Yet everything seemed so natural. The way you smiled at me, and looked directly into my eyes. That odd sensation in my chest that made me feel like I was about to be sick yet was strangely warm and comforting. I couldn't contain my smile. No one had made me feel so special. So...loved.

After breakfast we went into my room and just laid in my bed. You held me and sang to me. No music playing, no lyrics in your hands-just you. Your voice filled my ears and pierced my heart. It was at that moment that I knew where I stood. I had taken a plunge and it was impossible to go back. You swept me away.

A few days later I went to Utah. I was wildly confused about so much. And completely terrified. I didn't know which direction to go, or what choice to make. There was so much more than just you that I needed to figure out. I was wandering and without a home. I never wanted to leave the safety of Jamie's spare bedroom. I didn't know how to start moving forward.

Jamie and Shehan brought me back home. I was more confused than when I had left and I knew so little. But I knew enough, and that's that I needed you.

On the 29th of September you took me to go buy a cowboy hat. You got lost at first and although I laughed at you, I simply thought you were adorable. Although I resisted initially, I allowed you to buy me the hat and then we were off to dinner. I had never been to the Old Spaghetti Factory, but spaghetti is my favorite and it was sweet of you to take me there. Dinner was good, but the company was even better. I couldn't help but keep thinking how cute you looked in your plaid shirt and how much I just wanted to be in your arms.

When we got back to my place we searched for a movie to watch on Netflix. How we got from the movie selection to you asking the question I can't honestly remember. Everything seemed like a blur. The question was simple enough, but I knew how much weighed on this moment. Will I be your girlfriend? Well, how could I not be?


A lot has changed since then and if you were to tell me that we would be where we are almost a year from now I would have thought you were crazy. Maybe have even been offended. That however my dear, is how life works. Completely unpredictable and not at all stable. Sometimes I marvel at the way humanity adapts.

I always wanted a fairy tale type of love. I couldn't help it. The romance in my soul always ached to get out and be paired with someone who shared my emotion. Our love though is not story book material though. It isn't pretty at all. In fact at times it's just downright ugly. But it's real. It's always been real.

Regardless of everything, I have never loved you less. Only more. Maybe that's a flaw in me. Or maybe it's my greatest attribute.

In a couple weeks we won't be celebrating a year anniversary. And that's okay. I think there is more to celebrate than a single memory of a day.

I love you.

School, Life and all that Jazz.

I started school. Graduate school. Catholic graduate school. The fact that I'm a student at Franciscan is still a little overwhelming. I've wanted this for so many more years than I have let on. Sure, I'm still stuck in AZ and my classroom is wherever my laptop takes me but I suppose that's not the point. My lectures, assignments and exams are all from FUS professors. Perhaps during the lectures if I try really hard I can imagine myself in a classroom in Steubenville, Ohio.

I'm excited about my classes. Excited that both my Catechism and Bible will get some much needed work. Excited to dive deeper into my faith and fall more passionately in love. I'm excited to know that although up to this point my life has taken too many unwanted turns and I'm not where I want to be, in this I have a plan. My dreams are still very much in reach. Sinner though I am, I'm still answering yes to His call.

And nearly equally important, I do this for you.

Julia Nunez. RIP.

This past weekend I traveled back home to El Paso with my best friend. Her brother is stationed at Ft. Bliss and she was kind enough to let me tag along so I could see my family. Although I had planned the trip prior, this past weekend it seemed like I was in town for only one reason. In the very early hours of Sunday, the 19th, my Tia Julie took her last breath. Her funeral was scheduled for last weekend. As soon as I reached El Paso, my cousin Frank picked me up and drove me to the funeral home to view my Tia. I arrived a little before eight, and the rest of my family had been there since three. Seeing my aunt, and listening to my family say things about the person that she was hit me extremely hard. Up until then I had held myself together fairly well, but in the presence of my family I broke down. Frank held me while we both cried together and mourned the loss of our great aunt.

The next morning was her funeral and I was told to ride the limo with my aunts and grandma. As I sat in the limo with them I couldn't help but feel out of place. Riding to the funeral home, then the church and the cemetery I was just racked with guilt and sorrow. For years now my Tia Julie had lived in a nursing home and not once had I visited her. True, I live in a different state but the few times over the years that I have gone to El Paso I should have taken the time to see her. She suffered from Alzheimer disease and hasn't known me since I was a child but that should not have stopped me. My previous "out of sight, out of mind" mentality crippled me with even more grief and I had a difficult time composing myself throughout the entire day. To make matters worse, my thoughts kept consuming me with countless other things and severely spiraled me into a depression. Still, now back at home, I'm haunted by many things.

My Tia Julie was a wonderful woman. She took care of everyone. Her heart was enormous and although you never wanted to be on her bad side, she was someone you knew cared deeply about your well-being. She was stricken for so many years by a terrible disease. My only comfort now is that she is in a better place and no longer handicapped by the deterioration of her mind.

I hope she can see me now and know I loved her.

Party of One

I've always kept to myself. I'm not a party person, or a social butterfly. In fact of all things, I'm a wallflower. I sit back and observe while the world does its merry little spin. That isn't to say I don't associate with anyone, but for the most part it's just me.

Just me. That hasn't hit home so much like it did today.

It's such a huge deal if I open up to you. If I go more into my usual "I'm okay" and tell you how I feel. I don't just go spilling my guts to anyone. And even when I do confide, I'm so guarded. So careful about everything I say. My emotions are raw and my thoughts complex. I'll be too vulnerable to just let go.

Today I learned a few things. Number one, my friends are less than imagined. People who I thought I could have a moment with simply took one incidence and spun everything I said. It was useless to speak and I should have known. Number two, there are those who keep a tally of my mistakes and like to exploit them at every given opportunity. Number three, in the end it really is just me.

Perhaps this is not the best format for certain things but the pain is mounting. At times I can't breathe with the enormity of it. The fact that I disappointed you was hard enough. Yet to know you won't be there for that day in my distant (or not so) future. The fact that I went to you in confidence and there was no support or even close to it there. The fact that all promises were seemingly ignored, words forgotten. To know that you were just like everyone else.

In the heat of the night much more was stolen than what was intended. The strain it has caused is just another thing I lose sleep over. I feel like the world in which I live in just became even more dull.

I will start the end of 2012 and the beginning of 2013 alone.

It wasn't enough time and it didn't turn out how it should have. Thus is life.

The hum of the fan and the typing of my keys are my only companions tonight. Not even my darling puppy is here to offer the comfort I desperately need.

Sometimes, I just want to disappear. Tell me when someone notices.

"Cause these things will change..."

"...can you feel it now?"

I believe that there are some people in this world who are literally thrown into it. There is no preparation, no warning. Suddenly you have to leave all childish things and be someone years were supposed to shape but life simply couldn't wait for. It's now or never with never not even being an option. It's simply now.

I missed out on a lot of things as a child and a teenager. I never fully fit in, even in the days at Edgemere when everyone knew my name. I will never say I was smarter than my peers but I was different from them. I was more experienced. Life had taken it's grip on me faster. I didn't have that carefree innocence a child should have. Instead I spent the majority of the days sitting in a tree or riding my bike around town mulling over this or that. I had taken upon responsibility that shouldn't have ever been mine, yet even so was handed to me freely. I never complained because I simply knew nothing else. As the years progressed however my distance from my peers grew and grew. In junior high and high school I never understood the activities that everyone deemed so fun. I didn't understand their dialogue or their way of disrespecting virtually everyone. Therefore I spent my time alone, watching and analyzing them trying to figure out their immaturity and always wondering why I was so different.

As it would be, I am socially awkward as a 22 year old adult. I've always been socially awkward. Between simply my quiet and shy personality to not having any common ground other than age to my classmates I didn't get much in the way of social skills. Sure, I can carry a conversation and I'm friendly when spoken to and I can get along with anyone but there has always been this wall right in front of me. I've often wondered who put it there. Was it me, was it them or did life simply throw it there.

I think I had a tendency to rush through life for one particular reason. Simply, I wanted my age and social status to catch up with my heart and soul. Unfortunately it doesn't work that way, they both age and there is always that distance. But then there came a point in my life where I broke down. When the resilience of my soul failed and I needed some major time to repair. Funny thing is, life waits for no one. So in about two years I went from having everything and being on the top of my game to knowing nothing and feeling like I'm wandering aimlessly praying I find the path that so much dust covered in that violent storm.

Life is asking me to stop being idle. Stop being crippled by the past, by my former illness, by my heartache. It's screaming at me to be...well me. But that scares me because I'm afraid of leaving everyone behind in the process. It's my change, not theirs. I have to adapt and live accordingly and well, they just live.

And it's a sad picture, the final blow hits you

Somebody else gets what you wanted again

You know it's all the same, another time and place

Repeating history and you're getting sick of it

Tick Tock

Life is so unexpected. Ha. I just realized what I just said. Oh boy.

Sleep just won't come tonight. I'm caught up in my fragile mess and all the pointless possibilities of tomorrow.  I never knew it was possible to have your head above water yet still be drowning. One more tidal wave and I'll... No. That's a lie in formation. I won't ever completely break.

Everything is wrong, you know. Yet there is so much beauty in my mistake.

Is everything forgivable? Or are there certain things that you cannot just look past? To forgive as Christ does, is that truly possible for the fallen? Or is it just some impossible aspiration? Will there be a day when my heart stops bleeding?

Happiness is found in your imagined smile. In the idea of you lying safely in my arms. Of knowing I'll be your everything.

At this, failure is not a possibility.

How marvelous.

I was happy once. Probably happier than I have ever been before. I allowed myself to open my heart up. I allowed myself to be vulnerable and to trust and give everything I had. A lot of people had their opinions and I didn't listen. I made the decision for myself and went for it. Then there I was completely swept away. Details aside, I saw everything. I had everything. Was it perfect? Of course not. But nothing ever is and love is finding beauty in all those imperfections that drive you crazy and loving through them. I've always been willing to do that. Then out of nowhere my world came crashing down. As hard as I try I can't recover.

Memories. Looking through old pictures and that's all they are. It's only been a little over a month and so much in me has changed. I was burned and the fire reached my heart and engulfed it. I'm someone who can't feel what I used to.

It's just music on a CD. Great music. Beautiful music. I love it. But you aren't singing.

Oh life.

"Congratulations!" I read those words about five times before I continued on with the rest of the letter that I held in my hand. I had given up on ever hearing back from this school. This school that I so badly wanted to go to. It was the hardest thing in the world for me to even apply to. My fear of rejection was overwhelming. Franciscan University is not just any school. Logically with my GPA there wasn't a reason for them not to accept me. I look great on paper, and the essay I wrote I was confident in. However I was sick to my stomach sending all my papers. To me, this was it. I didn't want to use my back up plan. CDU wasn't good enough and although I could be a youth minister without a degree I know that at my age I can get further with this degree. Not to mention I want the knowledge for myself anyway. So I sent my stuff and I waited, and waited, and waited. Nothing. I even emailed them only to get a response that the director of grad students had a baby and was too busy to reply quite yet. I was frustrated and disheartened. I tried to forget about things and for the time being, move on. That letter was the last thing in the world I expected to be in my mailbox. 

I've lost my motivation for nearly all things. I've sunk into a pretty bad depression. I'm not who I used to be. My desires are gone. My interests are no longer there. My personality has changed rather drastically. My heart has changed. Maybe I'm just fed up with the way people treated me. Maybe life got the best of me. Maybe I'm going through a phase. I have no idea what's going on. But I'm so alarmingly different. I'm making rash decisions. I'm being irresponsible. And I have been oh so responsible since I was five years old. I've just gone over the edge. 

But then there's school. Steubenville. Dammit I love school. I'm still me when it comes to school. The old me.  The me that never got sick. Never got hurt. Never was damaged. The perfect me. Maintain a 3.0 or I get kicked out. Please. I'll do so much better than maintaining a 3.0. I want to start this second. 

School. Church. Teens. Keep me in my bubble.

Just Empty. No Beauty.

My head hurts. My eyes are closed right now as I'm typing and my head just hurts. My eyes hurt too. I just took a deep breath as a thought flashed through my mind. Can you guess what it was? Think carefully. It shouldn't be that hard to guess.

I'm so tired of using the same words. I'm tired of going on repeat. Of sounding like a broken record. I'm tired of feeling the same way, though in reality, I'm not feeling the same way at all. I feel worse. Each day gets a little harder. A little less bearable. My strength weakens. My perseverance wavers. I am but a single person that can only take so much. Yet round after round I go.

My relationships are estranged. I have no connection to anyone. There is so much missing in my life.

Voids. I need to fill them with prayer.

I want to escape.

Happy Ever After

I used to believe in fairy tales. It's true. I used to believe that there existed places where yes, bad things did happen. Like evil step mothers and being locked away in castles. However at the end of the story good conquered evil. No, it was so much more than that. Love conquered evil. Yet as I got older that belief of mine began to fade. Life kept showing me how cruel the world is. This notion of love prevailing was simply just a fantasy. A fashioned notion that we seek but are unable to attain.

I can't tell if my days are getting longer or shorter. Things are very difficult right now. I feel like I'm fighting a war with no army. I need someone to bounce my thoughts off. Funny how things turn out. You think you'll always have certain people but then one day you realize you're on your own. It really is sink or swim.

Heart Beat

Last night during Mass I sat attentively listening to the homily. It was a beautiful homily on the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I sat there in my pew, fresh off a confession that I didn't feel went right, struggling to find peace. As I listened to Father describe two different paintings of the Sacred Heart and his interpretation of both I realized that it wasn't my sin that was bothering me so. Through the grace of confession I was forgiven and I knew that. It was my own beating heart that felt mangled and abused that I couldn't bear with.

Christ has a human heart. A heart just like mine. A heart that the world scorned and continues to do so. In my sinful nature I'm included in that scorning. We pierced that heart. Yet unlike our selfish human hearts, Christ loves us Divinely. He withstands everything though we deserve nothing.

I fail at this every day. Maybe even more so lately. However my prayer still is daily to love and serve the Lord to the best of my ability. I want to live out my saint's quote and "love until I die of Love". I want to dedicate my life to the Church. I want to minister to teens and bring people closer to Christ. I want nothing more than that.

But this heart of mine...it hurts. To the point where taking a single breath seems impossible. And I feel so alone.

Slipping Away

Eventually you won't even notice. Or maybe you will and you'll do what you always do and that's nothing. Just let it happen. I'm slipping right through your fingers. Just fading away.

I deserve better than all of this.

When the page turns, when the curtain closes, when the last leaf falls...who remains?

I ache.

You can't promise me anything.

Around around we go...

I make myself dizzy. I want someone to talk to but then really, what's the point in that? Exactly what am I looking for? I want clear direction right now. I want a map. Actually, no. You know what I really want? I want a schedule. I want a schedule printed out neatly and handed to me with everything I need. It would give me a time frame for everything and tell me the tasks I have to do. I wouldn't have to worry about these stupid decisions that I'm obviously incapable of making and I would stop feeling so anxious and lost all the time. Of course life doesn't work that way.

Everything happens for a reason. What that reason is is what we always seem to question. In the grand scheme of things I want very few things from life. In no particular order all I really want is for someone to give me forever and marry me. I want to be a mother. I want to get a MA in Theology. I want to be a youth minister. I want to be a witness to Christ and His Church. Much more doesn't matter.

I don't know really what I'm doing anymore these days. Once upon a time I had so much figured out. It's frustrating feeling the way I do...directionless. I don't work this way.

I feel like I'm grabbing out at empty air.

It really is never ending. I keep getting thrown more and more things. I honestly wonder what God is trying to teach me. Exactly what kind of person is He trying to mold me to be. 

I'm very scared right now. I'm scared of all the uncertainty. I'm scared of everything that I have to let go of. I'm scared of how blindly I have to walk. I'm scared of how much trust I don't have yet how much trust is actually needed in order for this to actually work. I'm scared of how alone I am and how alone I don't want to be. How  no one will understand my choices and the lack of support I will receive. I'm scared of being wrong. 

St. Thomas Aquinas said that love is willing the good of another. I want to perfect that concept. 

Kyrie eleison.

Christe eleison.
Kyrie eleison.

Rollin' On

This month has been extremely long. I feel like I just keep sinking deeper and deeper into a hole that there is no way I could ever possibly climb out of. Every day something new hits me. I gain a little strength only to get knocked with an even harder punch. I don't know anything these days.

Last Thursday afternoon I went with my best friend and her family to El Paso. Her brother is stationed at Ft. Bliss and they were nice enough to let me tag along for the ride so I could spend the weekend with my family back home. As we entered the city I felt giddy. Hardly anything changes about it. It still looks worn down. Everything is still rather dirty and brown all around it but it's beautiful. It's home and nothing can take that away from me. Natasha picked me up outside the gate of Ft. Bliss late that night and took me to my Tia's house. On the car ride there I sort of exploded. She asked me how I was and I didn't lie. I didn't give the usual answer I give everyone of "okay" or "fine". I told her that I wasn't doing well. I told her I was awful and then I went on a rant where I didn't even stop to take a breath and briefly described the difficulties of my life. It was nice to just talk. It was nice for just a few minutes to let go and be honest and not feel judged or feel like someone was going to jump down my throat. It was nice to have my cousin there and then to have her laugh at me and tell me to breathe because she was worried I was going to have a heart attack. It was just nice to be home.

This past weekend was good for me but it was difficult as well. I miss my family so much. That six hour drive is really nothing but it's such a barrier. So much of me is in El Paso and I guess right now especially, at a time where I'm struggling with so much and I don't know who I am, I need to be surrounded with familiar things. In a previous blog a while back I mentioned my old parish and a particular hymn. Every single time I hear "On Eagles Wings" I think about St. Raphael and being in catechism. This Sunday I went to Mass at St. Raphael and I went up to receive communion. The very second I received Christ the song began playing.

I'm back home in Arizona and a lot has happened since I stepped back inside the Rebello's van and headed back. The world keeps spinning and throwing punches every day. At some point either I will completely break or I'll find another way to adapt.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

I wish sometimes I could go back in time and do things over. But then that always arises the question of how far would I go. Sometimes I just want to travel back to moments and relive them. That All-Star game when I won MVP and I walked out into an empty field to receive the game ball and both dugouts cheered and my dad looked at me with tears in his eyes. My talk in front of 500 hundred teens and afterward having teens coming up to me with tears in their eyes and hugging me and thanking me for what I shared. The night Erin and I drove around aimlessly and went to Tempe Beach Park and wrote with chalk and I was perfectly content just being with my best friend. Being cradled in Michael's arms as he sang "I'll Stand by You" and feeling my heart catch on fire and then plummet into my stomach in this wonderful yet terrifying sensation the moment I knew I was in love. 

There are a lot of moments that I would like to relive. Moments with Jamie. Moments with April. Moments with my sister and brother. Moments with my cousins. Yet I can't. All I have are memories. Perhaps I'm fortunate because I have such vivid memories. It's like playing a video in my mind. Though memories like I have are a double edge sword. I'm haunted as well. 

I don't know what to do anymore. I feel like I'm just running in circles. I'm in need of so much. I don't know how everything fell apart. I don't know how to take a step back and reevaluate the situation. I don't know how to fix anything. I don't know the solution. Sometimes I'm not even sure of the problem. 

I know my name. I know my birth date, my favorite color and favorite food. But the more days pass I question who I really am. And I'm confident everyone around me doesn't know either. 

So kiss me and smile for me

Tell me that you'll wait for me

Hold me like you'll never let me go

Suicide

I was lying on my couch last night totally consumed. My heart felt heavy and was literally throbbing with pain. Silent tears kept escaping my eyes ever so slowly and as they slid across my face I felt another year older. I felt worn and battered. Beat down and abused. Betrayed and misunderstood. I questioned why I even came back home. I questioned why I didn't have April take me to my parents. I just laid there anchored by my heartache and barely breathing.

I couldn't help where my thoughts went. I began formulating a plan and method of execution. I fell asleep to my thoughts and dreamed about my death and the aftermath. Erin not going to my funeral. Michael blaming himself. My sister not knowing what to do with herself. Time heals though. I guess the great thing is I dreamed about life without me and how normal it was. How life just goes on, as it should. It was sort of comforting.

I woke up disoriented and wondering where I was for a second. Wondering if I had taken anything. My dream felt a little too real. For some reason I reached for my wrist and I felt a deep emptiness when I grabbed it. I just began to cry.

In my dream I wrote a note. It said the following :
You won't find letters this time. I destroyed those. I'm tired of the sentiments. My life was filled with them and for what? Perhaps my flaw was I was too emotional, yes? I loved too deeply. I cared too much. My compassion ran too freely and all it did was burn me in the end. And so I leave you in what you will all call as a selfish act that you will question and will cause you pain. Pain for which I sincerely apologize. However I could no longer take what I felt anymore. Tonight in Mass it was said that we are more than our sins. We are more than our mistakes. All we are, are children of God. I take that with me. I do love you. 


Everyone says things will gets better. Though no one ever says when they will.   

Empty Hands

I want to say a lot. I think at this point I'm screaming at myself to. It's been now over two weeks without music and me releasing into song. I haven't written in my journal in a month. These little blogs here and there scratch the surface of what's eating away at my soul, if at that. I'm not really talking to anyone. Yet here I am just barely breathing on the verge of explosion yet still retreating further and further into myself. It's causing myself this great level of anxiety. This sickness that is hard to handle yet I have to just bear it anyway. That's what I always have to do.

Today at Mass I couldn't find the peace that I needed. The peace that I so often find and hate tearing myself away from as I leave my church. Instead my anxiety just continued to fill me. And I felt overwhelmingly alone. As we prayed the Lord's Prayer and everyone joined hands my heart ached in pain because I had no one's hand to hold. I was in an empty pew by myself, like I am every Sunday. For some reason today, I couldn't handle that fact that my hands were as empty as my heart.

When The Music Died

I kept coming to this website over and over again. Almost like I expected a new blog would appear from me by just refreshing the page a few hundred times. My thoughts were so powerful that they could fill a page without me putting forth the effort of typing. My heartache so strong that I didn't need to actually stroke the keys. It seems like so much has occurred in such a short time. Really it has been a short time. Yet it feels like so long ago. My friend April dragged me out of my apartment even though I looked half dead and crazed and I told her I had been locked up in my apartment for years. She kindly reminded me that I had barely even lived there for over a year. April is my dandelion. If you've read all three books of the Hunger Games you should understand. She's my sunshine on my cloudy day. Hah. She's my cupcake. But not even she could make me feel better. I'm lifeless.

My precious music. Oh not even Taylor Swift. The amount of heartache that reached me when I attempted a song...no. The music died.

Is it Over Yet?

I just kept staring at the blank box before me, wondering what I could possibly fill it with. It is not lack of ideas or some sort of writer's block that poses as a problem for me. It's more of this fear of saying too much. Exposing too much of my soul. Releasing too much of this heartache and pain that I'm trying so desperately to keep locked away but by each and every day I'm failing to. There aren't any more excuses to fall back on. This is just me completely drowning.

I keep wanting to crawl into someone's arms and just cry. Sob. I would like to say that my heart aches but that's a lie. My whole being aches.

I was talking to April about the "Choke" episode of Glee and my devastation of Rachel's audition. The moment the lights turned off on her on the stage I felt sick and it took everything in me to not just break down. Because well you see, I feel like Rachel Berry. I had so much going for me and then bam, everything fell apart. Maybe I didn't personally put a star by my name but there always was one there and now it's gone. I can't do anything. Of course things for Rachel are different but the feelings Rachel felt when those lights turned off I feel right now. Just complete and absolute failure.

At the end of the episode Rachel sings Kelly Clarkson's "Cry". I might as well be singing too.


...Is it over yet? 
Can I open my eyes? 
Is this as hard as it gets? 
Is this what it feels like to really cry? 
Cry 


I'm talking in circles 
I'm lying, they know it 
Why won't this just all go away 


Is it over yet? 
Can I open my eyes? 
Is this as hard as it gets? 
Is this what it feels like to really cry? 
Cry 
Cry

Family Ties

It's perhaps no secret that I have family problems. A large majority of them stem from my relationship with my mother and the dynamic of the household I was raised in that I have sworn myself to never return to. I hate the fact that I'm so uncomfortable even visiting my parents' house. I step inside and I just want to run back out. I feel like there isn't enough air in the house. I'm on edge from the second I enter until the moment I step back into the sanctuary of the home that is my apartment. It's terrible, but I can't help how I feel. Now you can't ever confuse my feelings for lack of love for my family. As much as they drive me insane I'm devoted to them, perhaps to a fault. My mom has destroyed me more than anyone else in my life but she's my mom and I'd do anything for her. My daddy is well...my daddy. I think maybe in my heart I'll always be sitting on his lap watching a football game, or on the baseball field at short while he's watching me turn a double play. Sometimes I don't think he sees me anymore. Whether that's because I'm too old or because drinking and his own problems are really all that matter, but he's still my dad and I can still hear him calling me "golden" and that's all I've ever wanted to be. My sister is my whole world and my heart breaks each and every day with the knowledge that I can't fix or do everything for her. My little brother doesn't have the slightest clue how deeply I love him and how much I want him to succeed.

Now this is just my immediate family. I have a whole extended family that really, I barely discuss. Now one would think that would happen for a few reasons. Perhaps they just aren't important. Or I don't want to talk about them because they're even more insane than the family I do try to run from. However that's so far from the truth. In particular my father's side of the family. I say little about them because my emotions get the best of me when I think about them. My heart aches too much for them. I don't want to run away from them but toward them and that idea scares me. I feel my Tia Lecha and Tia Stella hug me and I know love and it overwhelms me. My Tio Checho just makes me smile every time I see him and he's just goofy. My cousins aren't just cousins to me. I grew up with them and shared too much with them. Especially Frank, Natasha and John. And when Frank came down while I had cancer and spent close to a week with me... I can't even come close to explaining how much that meant to me. And although Chito is well, Chito, I love him and I'll always have his back. Then there is my Tio Rene who honestly, I don't know very well and that is a very unfortunate fact. However that takes away nothing from the amount of love and respect I have for the man. Last and certainly not least there is my darling grandma. Undeniably the most beautiful woman in the world who each time I see her tears instantly flood my eyes and saying goodbye to her is the hardest thing in the world. She's magnificent and the epitome of cool. How I love her so.

I didn't mention a few people, and not for lack of significance. I carry everyone in my heart and they each are a piece of me in a very special way. So often I am told I am strong and resilient because of everything that life has handed me. I tend to shake that compliment off. However if anything has made me strong, it's the love I have for everyone around me. The deep amount that I truly care for my family and my desire for their well-being and my fight to do my best to never let them down. I'm at a time in my life where I feel like such a failure and I can't take the person that I am. I feel so useless and all I want is some purpose back in my life again. I want it for me, but mostly I want it for all of them.

I can scream louder.

"And forget about everyone here"

That's exactly what I want. Because I'm undeniably selfish. Yup.

I'm not so sure when I became the person that hid in sleep. That just turned the world off and hid under the blankets and passed out. My sleep is no where peaceful and I just wake up panicked and wanting to sleep more but it's so strange. I feel so sick all the time and it's frustrating because I shouldn't be sick anymore. I should be getting healthier every day and regaining my strength but I'm not. I'm just here being consumed with the things I can't yet do for all these various reasons. I feel like a caged animal.

"Eager to leave." "Not considering my choices." You have no idea. I understand your desperate need to hold onto me but if I can't do something...if I look at a situation and I get to a point and I accept defeat, do you realize how difficult that is? And then I make a decision and act on it, honestly, maybe, that may be the best decision for me. And isn't that my problem? Isn't that what everyone has been yelling at me for all my life? That I don't think about myself enough? Yet here I am thinking...and here you are yelling...

Nothing has been decided, because I'm still fighting for what I have under my feet. But God and everyone else knows I have such poor footing.

Life.

I could have never predicted my life events. I could have never hand chosen the people in my life and the unique way that each one of them has affected me. I have made awful decisions and exceptional ones. My life is what it is and honestly, I can't do very much to change it, frustrating as it may be.

When I was a little girl I did an awful amount of dreaming. I used to climb trees, or the roof of either my house or my grandma's house and just sit up there for hours and get lost in my thoughts. I've always had this way of just trying to escape my present. I didn't enjoy my past and the future always seemed so exciting. Hopeful. Limitless. Mine for the taking. I could do anything with it. How young and naive I was. How still young and naive I am. My restless heart cannot truly be content in the moment. I always want more. Yet I've been stuck for so long, and I failed so miserably. Oh how I've failed. To describe my disappointment in myself...

My sleep lately has been suffering. More so than usual. My dreams are vivid and alarmingly discomforting. I can't find a job and I get kicked out of my apartment and I have no where to go. Jamie is my only refuge but it puts a strain on every relationship I have. My wait is over and Steubenville emails me back but I get rejected. Or I get accepted but I can't go anyway. No money, no time. Or I can't do the work. I arrive on campus and I get lost. Last night I was dreaming that I was signing up for classes and everything was already full and I couldn't register. I dream about Michael and I fighting and him walking away. I dream about Erin ripping my bracelet off my wrist and screaming at me that she hates me. I dream about cupcake-less months and life without my Dandelion. I dream about going to the Steubenville West Conference and sitting at a table with my teens while at a table next to me is a parish that disowned me, teens that I love and the three people that I just previously mentioned and I'm supposed to be okay with it. I dream about being sick again and all the loneliness I felt.

Last Wednesday I went to confession and I confessed to the priest all my anger and bitterness. It was what I needed. I took my anger and resentment and my feelings of abandonment and nailed them to the cross. On Good Friday, as I sat in my church praying I took out my journal and I began writing. Now I never do this but this is a tiny part of what I wrote :


Lord, I am in such need of healing and You are the only one that can heal me. You know all parts of me. You know the intricacies of my heart, my longings, my deepest desires and all my needs. Fulfill me oh Lord. Please.
Lord, by Your cross, death and Resurrection I am set free. Set me free. I deserve to journey with You in suffering, sinner that I am. But I beg of You Lord, let me rise with You. Grant me the everlasting peace of Your love. 


As soon as I had written the words I felt a calming sensation go over me. On Easter Sunday I was flooded with  peace. Obviously there are so many areas in my life that are not peaceful. I am beyond stressed and I have this terrible tendency to just worry about everything. However that burden of anger has left me. At twenty-two, I am still very much a child. You would think I would know better but in my experience of raising myself maybe I just didn't teach myself the necessary skills or I taught myself the wrong things.

When I was twelve and I was writing my book One Tear Drop Falls my main character tells the boy she likes "A kite flies on a string, not a stick, you know" He proceeds to ask her what that's supposed to mean and she responds "Whatever you want it to". I put that in there for a very specific reason and I think it's funny that my 12 year old mind worked that way. That I wanted my readers to think a certain way even though I knew most would never understand what I meant. Yet it was more than that too. I really did mean it when I said, "whatever you want it to" because that is what life is. Life is defined really by you and your interpretation of it.

Demons.

I can't really wrap myself around my emotions. This state of mind I'm in. The quiet way my body shakes with anger. Blinded rage in which I just want to destroy everything around me. I want to release everything in fits and bouts. I want to be uncensored and just go off. My head hurts from my brow furrowing so often. My heart feels cold and hardened. Yet all of this I'm describing is so foreign to the person that I once knew myself to be. I don't know how to contain it.

My previous blog I can't recant nor do I want to. It upset people and it was taken as unfairly written. I'm not being fair. I'm the jerk in all of this. Which, perhaps, may be true. However at the moment I cannot see it as so. All I know is it's just feeding more fuel and proving my point more. That is, I am utterly alone and have been. I have no one in my life to really talk to and depend on. I can't express my feelings without them being turned inside out and hurting everyone and being thrown in my face and my expectations are obviously too high. So I'm stuck.

Role reversal. Where would I have been? If you were me, and I were you? Though that isn't fair I know. But really. What would have happened?

I just want it to be over. I want it to be done. I want to move on from everything. I want to be happy with everything. Just forget it all. Why can't I just forget it all.

This is possession.

Viewer Discretion Advised

For the past 10 days I've just been brewing. You get news that you're cancer free and you think you'd be rejoicing. Floating on air. Yet only bits of happiness reached my heart. I was more shocked than anything else. Weary. Unsure. Then in a few days after, the bitterness flooded. The realization that I went through all of this in a way that I shouldn't have. The realization that I simply just went through it. I hit a point that my "fight" left me because I didn't need to fight any more. I won. Then my already broken mental state went from really bad to disastrous and like usual no one was there to catch me or even see me fall.

I don't really blame anyone, oh but I blame everyone. It isn't fair to, but no one was fair to me. Who does that?!? Who leaves a person like me alone? Every day? Who allows them to be swallowed by pain? By every kind of suffering imaginable? Who allows them to deteriorate every passing moment? Oh, but you didn't see it all, did you? Of course not. Because no one was there!!!!!!!!! Just me. I live with my self. Out of sight, out of mind. No one can handle it. No one knows how to deal with death. No one can even handle freaking life. What kind of friends do I have? What defines friends? People who come throw me a party because I'm better now? Oh hey now you want to hang out. Yeah, let's drink. Oh Stephanie you're so much fun. Well screw that. I needed you when I was dying.

I'm still not being fair. There were moments when people stopped on by. Far and in between but there were moments. Though there was that message. Sent from my best friend who couldn't handle me, even when she wasn't here much herself.

How many nights were spent just in my room crying? How many dinners did I eat alone? How many weekends did I spend all by myself? How many seizures did I have with no one around? How many times did I fall and no one was around and I had bruises on my already battered body? How many noises attacks did I have and I had no one there to calm me down after? How many screams went unanswered? Too fucking many.

And now? I'm still invisible. Yesterday was my biggest proof.

I don't know what to do with what I feel. I just want to disappear. Last night I asked Michael to run away with me. I have nothing virtually but this apartment that at the moment I can't even pay. But he wouldn't give me the answer I was looking for.

I hate that as I stood at my window staring out at my porch looking at the empty Corona bottle and a knife I wanted both of them. Not the Corona to drink, but the glass. I wanted to break it and I had to use every ounce of my will power to restrain myself. I want to be destructive.

I'm angry at God right now and it's such bad timing as Holy week approaches. I'm so angry. I can't believe He did this. I feel betrayed. I can't believe she's doing this.

I just want everything to be over.

I need to leave. Probably forever.

Standing By Me

Just a few minutes ago I stood facing my bathroom, away from my mirror brushing my hair. I had just gotten out of the shower and my music was playing. The Glee version of "I'll Stand By You" came on and my heart twinged a little and I took a small step to change the song but I stopped myself. I took a step back, leaned against my counter, continued brushing my hair and began singing along. It didn't take me long to start crying.

If you pay attention to my life (or blogs and have a good memory) this particular song has a special meaning for me. Michael sang me this song and it was in that moment that my heart surrendered itself to him. Literally. I melted and for the first time in my life I felt completely secure in the arms of a man. He was everything I wanted and I was swept away. We've been together for almost half a year now, and although that doesn't seem very long at all, we've already been through so much. There needs to be a special type of man to love me. Not because I'm a special type of woman but because I'm just so much work. I try not to be. Honestly. However maybe all my effort makes more work.

Like usual, I'm a mess. A huge mess. There is this gaping hole inside my chest that seems to just be getting bigger and bigger. I'm not quite sure what to do.

"Take me in, into your darkest hour". My entire life, no one has ever been there. In that moment I hold others at a distance. I'm too vulnerable. I don't think anyone can survive it anyway.

How simple promises are phrased like "I'll stand by you" and "I'll never desert you". Yet how often they're broken.

Misdirection.

I don't think I have ever been more misrepresented. I'm not sure I have ever been more misunderstood and accused of so many things. I have never been so attacked at all levels before. I've never felt like wanting to just walk out because I will never be listened to even if I chose to speak. Chose to defend myself and explain my point of view for once instead of sitting quietly like I so often do and just take the abuse. How funny it is that all those in my life just point out my flaws. They just tear at me and tear at me. You do this wrong and this. You make me feel that, and that. It's funny because you all confuse me. For one moment you're telling me how great I am and the next you're telling me how terrible I make you feel. Then you wonder why I can't seem to fully love myself.

What gets me is when the pointing of flaws are lies. When I know they're lies. When I know that isn't the truth at all. When I know that you just don't get it and have no idea what the hell is going on. But I let it go and it becomes my truth anyway. I feed off of it.

I get so mad sometimes. I want to defend myself. I want you to know how you make me feel without these assumptions. But your reaction to everything sucks.

I try harder than everyone else but I'm the one that gets no credit, not you.

To live like I want is a tragedy filled with saints and sinners.

To resist what I did. To have sat there and cried. To have stood there and shaken. To have been everywhere I was and felt everything I did and resisted.

No one will understand the crosses I carry.

God alone.

60%

When I received my news on Wednesday afternoon I didn't quite know how to take it. My immediate response was relief. I was almost giddy. I wanted to call Erin. More than that. I wanted to run to wherever she was and grab her by the arms and shake her. See I told you! I wasn't going to die. Then all of a sudden I felt anxious. Uneasy. I couldn't pinpoint it. Regardless I needed to tell someone. I text Erin first and told her to call me as soon as possible. Then I text Michael, and April. I waited by my phone hoping Erin would call first. She didn't and so I busted out my news to the person who replied the quickest. When I finally said the word, even with the word "partial" in front of it, it sounded so good. Remission.
Erin eventually called me, as did Michael. I told Jamie. I text my friend Kat who has been wonderful and keeps tabs on me every day even from her location in Chicago. My little sister was the first person I told in person and her face lit up. There it is-the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm going to get better.

I still have so much left to travel in this whole cancer ordeal. I know this. And as far as recovery and healing from it? That's an entirely different battle. But I'm going to get better. I'm scared about a lot of things. I'm never going to be the same and that terrifies me because I don't know how to function outside of this illness anymore. I'm afraid of never being able to do everything I used to and most likely, I won't. I'm terrified that it will come back. That I'll get a few good years. Or maybe some great long years. Twenty or so, but then it'll come back. However I also know that I can't live in my fear. God is bigger than everything. He has performed miracle after miracle in my life. I just need to keep trusting Him and allowing His grace to lead me wherever He wants it to.

(At my anointing ceremony. My sister laid her hands on me and said a prayer over me and then kissed my cheek)

Diocesan Retreat 2012

I was not ready for this weekend. I wasn't prepared for any of it. I was not healthy enough for it. Mentally, physically and even admittedly, spiritually. However up that mountain I went and as anxious as I was I couldn't have predicted the way things occurred.

Perhaps I should back up a little as to not fully confuse my faithful readers who have no idea what I'm talking about. Though that may be just one person. This weekend I went to a Diocesan retreat in Williams, Arizona with my teens. We left Friday afternoon. The days leading up to Friday were extremely difficult on me. My chemo dosage had been raised and although it ended Thursday that week was very rough. In addition I had been battling a cold and what seemed to be a UTI. I was miserable and in more pain than I could handle. I was sleep-deprived and irritable and ultimately just not in the best shape to go on a retreat. My personal life was not exactly the best either. My boyfriend and I weren't exactly on the same page and although nothing extremely major had happened, we just didn't seem to be clicking. I felt distraught and empty and as though I was missing a part of me. Regardless, I got on that bus Friday afternoon for my teens and prayed to God to give me strength.

It was Jordan who asked first. Tyler and Zach had recently tackled me in the game room in the middle of my foosball game with a couple of my girls. Jordan then walked up after them and came up to me and said "I didn't know you'd be here. Where have you been all these months?" I couldn't think of anything to say.
During first session I'm following my girls frantically trying to keep up with them as they run to the stage to get to the front. We get settled and within a few minutes I see April just a few people away from me and we run to each other and hug and then I realize that my teens are right next to St. Anne. I look around and for a second I can't breathe. I feel my legs start to buckle and I lock my knee. April brings Jana to me and Jana hugs me and I momentarily snap out of it. Then Adrianna shows up and is squeezing me and then Ana and I'm just too overwhelmed. I try to focus on the music but I just begin feeling sick. I try focusing on my teens but everyone is blurring together. My heart hurts. As the session begins I focus more. I ask God for strength. I ask Him to help me get through the night. I listen to all the talks and I watch my teens take the messages in. I watch them praise and worship. When the night ends and we get up to leave another teen from St. Anne, Jacque, runs up to me and hugs me and begins crying and asks, "Why aren't you with us anymore?" All I can say is it wasn't my choice. She just turns around and walks away. Another girl sees me and comes running at me and throws herself into my arms. Another one stands frozen on the steps crying just staring at me and I have to walk up to her and embrace her. She just keeps crying over and over again saying, "I'm so glad you're okay." Aaron comes up to me and opens his mouth to say something, but then just walks off with his head down. I look up and I see my teens, my new teens, looking at me, waiting for me at the top of the stairs. I walk up to them and one of them, Kim, asks, "are your teens okay?" And with tears in my eyes I looked at her and said "I don't know, are you? You're my teens." And she hugged me really tight.

I couldn't sleep that night. I felt tormented. I felt angry that so many of those teens at St. Anne think I just left them. It's more than just my reputation. It isn't fair to them. Not a single thing is handled properly at the parish. I love those kids so much and I always will. They deserve the truth. I won't ever get an apology and that's fine. So be it. This is is bigger than me. They hurt a lot of teens too and I'm fed up with it all.

I could probably say more on the subject but I'm not going to waste my time. The teens of St. Anne and of course Michael, April and Katrina were faithful to me as they always have been. The parishes merged throughout the weekend during session and although it had it's struggles it was nice to see everyone and know how truly loved I am by those teens. However it was more than that. Every second I spend doing anything youth ministry related my heart is just on fire. And in those little moments when I walk up behind a teen talking about me when they think I'm not around and they're going off about how funny and awesome I am and I'm completely blown away because honestly, the things I do, I don't even try. I work hard, yes. But I'm just me. And to be loved for who I am and to know without a shadow of a doubt that the Lord is calling me to serve these teens and any teen that God puts in my path is the greatest joy in my life. When I watched my teens perform their song during the talent show I was the proudest person in the world. My heart swelled and tears filled my eyes. I love them so much. I want to do this forever.

This weekend also showed me something else. I've known that I'm called to be a youth minister for quite some time now. I've also known that I'm called to one day be a wife. However it wasn't really until this weekend that it hit me I'm called, truly and completely called to be Michael Ryan Gray's wife. This just isn't something that I want. Or even something Michael wants. This is something God is inviting me to choose. Michael is God's will for me. He always has been. I love Michael so much. We aren't even close being perfect. But our love is made perfect through Him and I want to seek Heaven with Michael by my side.

I'm in a lot of pain right now from how exhausted this weekend has left me. I could write a whole other mess of a blog talking about my limitations and frustration and what this retreat did to me there. For now though I should just leave it where it is. I'm on some sort of journey. Tomorrow is another day.

Job 2:10

Last night as I was lying in my best friend's bed praying my first decade of my rosary I just began crying uncontrollably. I couldn't stop. With each Hail Mary my tears came faster and the sobs racked my body harder. I felt tormented. My heart ached, my soul longed to be comforted and my headache pounded into my ears. I was filled with a rage. That rage that keeps filling me and I don't know what to do with. But I just kept praying. I had nothing left so I just kept praying.

The nights sleeping in Erin's bed without her fill me with these awful thoughts. I've been having nightmares. My mind is playing tricks on me. Mocking me and my sentiments. Exploiting my fears. Feeding on my pain. I don't appreciate it.

I'm pushing my boyfriend away and he doesn't understand. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't know what he's done. Has he hurt me? Yes, he has. But my rational is not rational. I'm simply retreating. Protecting myself. Getting overly defensive. I can't explain it.

I'm changing every second. It's taking over. It. Perhaps we should name them. How much time do I have until I'm not even the tiniest bit me. I feel it. I feel...

I'm so alone. I don't know who to turn to. It isn't fair. I feel blocked. Can't say this, can't say that.

Marisa I'm sorry. I've failed in so many ways and I have no control over anything. I'm so sorry.

I'm nothing but this cancer. I'm more than my cancer. I'm nothing but this cancer. I'm more. So much more. I'm nothing. I'm more. I'm nothing. I'm more. I'm...

...so unbelievably lost.

Split.

I ended my chemo today. It was an extremely difficult two weeks. Harder than anyone knows. Harder than I thought it would be even in some respects. I thought I would have more support in certain ways. I thought I would be less...whatever. It doesn't matter. I want to talk about it but I don't want to talk about it. This isn't the intention of the blog anyway. I'm just a...mess.

Tomorrow is sort of a big day. Tomorrow our Life Night is in part, dedicated to me. I'm going to receive the Anointing of the Sick in front of my teens and be prayed over by them. Then we're going to have Adoration. I'm a little overwhelmed at the fact that they're doing this for me in the first place let alone to receive this Sacrament publicly like this is slightly unorthodox. Not that it bothers me. It allows my suffering and illness to be turned into a teaching moment. Not to mention I believe in the power of prayer. I believe in miracles and I need a miracle. I need my teens to pray for me. I need everyone to pray for me.

The difficult thing for me about tomorrow is who won't be there. On every given Sunday I'm okay being at Holy Cross. I'm great actually. It's my parish now and I belong there. I love my teens and I love what I do. I don't miss St. Anne Youth Ministry one bit. Or even St. Anne. I miss the teens very much. An unbearable amount. But besides them what I'm missing is my core team. To not have April there to pray over me... and Katrina to get mad at me for making her cry. I need my best friend to hold one hand and my boyfriend to hold my other. Yet I can't have that. There was this split and I'm the only one at Holy Cross. Just me.

I'm scared.

Last night I was with Michael and I was getting a little lost in my thoughts. My mind drifted to my best friend and how I missed her and I couldn't help but be a little bothered at her current travel adventure. I was glad she was going to visit her brother but the fact that she was going to my hometown without me made me kinda uncomfortable. Not that she was going to go explore El Paso, or even that there is much to explore. If I had even gone with it's not like I would have been able to show her anything. In reality she's at Ft. Bliss anyway. Where my grandfather is buried. But it's almost like that's where I grew up-that city is more than some place on a map. The far left corner of Texas. It's home. It's weird her being there and not knowing anything about it. Regardless, as I was talking to Michael and just thinking I thought about how there are a lot of things him and I have to do. He has to take me to Sierra Vista. I have to go to Benson and meet his father. He needs to go to El Paso and walk down Killarney with me. I've driven down that street with all my ex boyfriends. I want to walk down that street with him. I want to show him Edgemere. I want to show him the fields I played baseball at. He needs to meet all my family and sit in my Grandma's house. I'd make him eat Chico's Tacos but I know he'd get sick so I'll pass on that one. :)

Michael has wishes of his own of course. One is for me to meet his friend Richard who is a youth minister in Sierra Vista. I asked Michael last night as we were talking if Richard had a Masters. He told me no and so I asked him how he got hired. After Michael told me I just started crying. Just thinking about it now I'm holding back tears. My heart aches with this deepest desire that I've never known before. I want to be a youth minister more than I want to breathe. More than I want to love. Because for me it's almost the same thing. I want an opportunity. I need a chance. Just one chance.

I'm so scared of never getting that chance.

Beautiful Insanity

Stay Beautiful. That's currently what's playing on my ipod right now. Brought to you by the lovely Taylor Swift. Ha. I can't write and listen to music at the same time so I should silence my music. Tim McGraw just came on. Maybe after this song...

My life is extremely complicated. Extremely hard. It doesn't make any sense whatsoever. I'm on some roller coaster ride and hey all, I hate roller coasters! But someone, without my permission, strapped me on and even though like always I don't quite fit in my seat and I'm being tossed around freaking out that I'm going to fall off and plunge to my death and every drop makes me sick, I'm still hanging on. I don't scream on roller coasters. I just close my eyes, yell in my head, grip whatever I can really tight and ball myself in however form I can. I wonder if any way that's what I'm doing now. Some version of that. Or perhaps I'm reaching.

I can't explain to you how perfect my Valentine's Day was. Or even last night going to see Wicked. I can't explain to you how much that boy loves me. Even though he's dumb sometimes. Even though he drives me absolutely insane. Even though there are moments when I lose it and I question everything out of fear, out of stupidity, out of being completely irrational. But if there is one thing I know is that Michael has always known, Michael has always been sure about us. Michael has always loved me. And he loves me through everything. Through my craziness and worst moments. When I'm not fair to him at all and push him away. He loves me through my sickness. Not any man could be here through this. But Michael is always here. I can depend on him. He's the man I'm going to marry. All I have to do is keep living and one day he will ask me, and I won't have any other answer for him but yes.

Things I Shouldn't Say.

Everything tells me I shouldn't publicize this. This should go into my journal. But no one but me reads that. Maybe I need someone to read this. Maybe this is my way of asking for help.

The past three nights I haven't even changed my clothes to go to sleep. I've told myself I need to shower but I didn't. I just crawled into bed and cried until sleep overcame me. I want to stop all my medication. Not in a "I want to die" way. Though I guess, maybe there is no other way of looking at it. I wake up in the middle of the night to take Desmond out and I can't ever go back to sleep because I'm consumed with how much I want to hurt myself. Wondering if the Chemo would make me bleed out.

I've been turned into some sort of hero. I've been glorified in so many people's eyes. I am so loved. Why.

I had a dream last night. I was sitting at a window. On Killarney St. Waiting for her to come home. Do you know what I just realized? She never did come home. My dad took me to her.

I don't ever think about you. No, never.

"I'm sorry"

Then in unison! Ha. I make decisions for everyone else. When in reality I was just making a decision for myself.

Perception.

No one asks me what I'm doing. How it makes me feel. Everyone assumes.

Promises. Giving me your word. Meaningless.

You know, I stopped expecting you to be there for me a long time ago. I stopped expecting you to drop things for me. But it still hurts. I wonder if it will always hurt.

No more motivation. To do anything. I don't want to work on that for you. Not because I don't love you but because my heart is dead. I don't want to work on that because I'll just fail and there is no future. I don't want to pay my bills because it doesn't matter.

Stumbling Into Nowhere.

Last Sunday I received a gift from my dearest friend Jamie. It consisted of two things but ultimately, the biggest gift was the words she wrote me. They were honest, which from Jamie, I expect nothing less. Some were harsh. When you boil it down, the letter was a form of Jamie kicking my butt. Though it was more than that. It was Jamie telling me, reminding me, that she believed in me. Yelling at me, almost, in that perfect black handwriting that I love to see that she has faith in everything I am. "I have faith in your willpower. I have faith that your determination will carry you through". I walked away reading that letter determined I wasn't going to die. Or even if I was, I was going to stop acting like my life was over. I have to much to do. Six months is ridiculous. Any amount of time is ridiculous. I am 22 years old. I have too much life ahead of me.

Monday came storming in and I took my lovely pills and everything hit me. I can't explain the sickness. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. I've managed actually really well. Better than I should. Why? Because I had something to keep me going. I didn't allow myself to feed my negativity and get into my head. I didn't let every aching muscle consume me. I didn't allow the nausea to take over my entire being or the spinning of my head to keep my eyes shut from the world. Survey please. For the past weeks, and maybe months I've drowned myself in tears. I wish that was an exaggeration.Depression couldn't even describe it. But this week I didn't. Until yesterday. I turn the corner and I'm back to where I started, though maybe worse. Double the chemo and more unstable than ever. I want to throw a temper tantrum. I want to kick and scream at how unfair everything is and this doesn't even all have to do with my freaking cancer. It's almost 9 and I should be at a park right now all ready to go to to clean it up, but I'm not. I'm at my computer on here complaining. I feel like I'm letting everyone down.

I want my best friend to hold me and sometimes I'm so overwhelmed with how guilty and pathetic that makes me feel.

I hate being at my parent's house.

I want to runaway. I always want to runaway.

Jamie... I'm sorry.

Mini Rant

My heart feels tight in my chest. I'm listening to music because really, it's all I know how to do. I'm angry about Susan G. Komen. Perhaps furious. I just want someone to stand up for the life. Really stand up. Take all the backlash and know they're doing the right thing. Plant their feet and stay there. I want to go on a rant about how I hate birth control. I hate contraception. I hate Planned Parenthood. But mostly I hate abortion. I hate this holocaust we're living in and how so many people don't care. I hate what our President is doing. I hate this mandate. I hate what they're doing to my Church. Hah. You want to talk about me hating Michael? This is what I hate.

I think my blood is boiling.

I could write a somewhat intelligent blog right now. I say somewhat because one, my brain doesn't function properly anymore. Two, I'm really pissed. However I just rather not. Give me a few minutes and I'll reign it in and I'll grab a rosary and I'll pray. I'll fast today like I was planning. Hate doesn't suit me. Even if some disagree. Anger isn't my thing. Not that I'm the most patient person in the world but even if I can't get it stamped on my body doesn't mean I don't want to live it out. I just want to love until I die of Love.

Unfortunately at the moment I'm a little ticked about a few more things. Though maybe hurt would be a better description. I'm afraid to voice my thoughts though. I just have a lot of questions and I feel so very alone.

Don't Cry For Me Down Here.

I've heard it before. That tone of voice when they become almost dehumanized. You almost have to be. Even with the knowledge of how much he likes me. I think he was thankful how short I was over the phone. Thankful that I was being so...childish. Thankful I refused to come into the office. Thankful I demanded an answer right then.

I'm not really sure what to say. I feel like a criminal about to be hung. Except I'm not. I'm a cancer patient with just precious time ticking by.

Everything hurts.

Erin doesn't know where her best friend is. Michael doesn't know where his girlfriend is. The cancer already took me.

I'm not here.

In a weekend Chase saw me. But if he stayed longer would he not see me either? Not that it matters. Nothing should matter with him.

Just watch the video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYHT-TF4KO4&feature=related

Help Me.

I don't even know where I should begin. I'm holding my little snowglobe of Princess Aurora and Prince Phillip in my hand and I just want to cry. Once Upon A Dream. I have a string of Taylor Swift lyrics in my head. Actually, my favorite song from her Fearless album. You win major points if you know it. Though I doubt none of you do. Can you gather some vague context clues?

I'm afraid of everything I feel and everything I don't feel. I can't make any decisions for myself. I need someone to take everything away from me and do it all. Spoon feed me. Carry me. Supply me the very air I breathe.

I've never been here before.

I can't even write on this.

Get it Right.

Without April right now, I would come unglued.

I feel slaughtered. I want to explain how I feel but the finger just gets pointed back to me. I have a target on my back. I don't want to argue. Or yell, or be yelled at.

Entering into tomorrow without the support and love that I need, I don't know how to do this. It's actually not even tomorrow I'm worried about. Continuing on at all like this with my relationships falling apart. My doctor told me I wouldn't survive without healthy relationships. I don't have a single one.

I wish I was still following Jesus with a candle in my hand singing with over a hundred other devoted Catholics. I wish my senses were still overwhelmed with incense.

I just want to disappear.

I love Glee.

"Get it Right"
What have I done?
I wish I could run,
Away from this ship going under
Just trying to help
Hurt everyone else
Now I feel the weight of the world is on my shoulders


What can you do when your good isn't good enough
And all that you touch tumbles down?
'Cause my best intentions
Keep making a mess of things,
I just wanna fix it somehow
But how many times will it take?
Oh, how many times will it take for me to get it right, to get it right?


Can I start again, with my faith shaken?
'Cause I can't go back and undo this.
I just have to stay and face mistakes,
But if I get stronger and wiser, I'll get through this

What can you do when your good isn't good enough
And all that you touch tumbles down?
'Cause my best intentions
Keep making a mess of things,
I just wanna fix it somehow
But how many times will it take?
Oh, how many times will it take for me to get it right, to get it right?


So if I throw up my fists, throw a punch in the air,
And accept the truth that sometimes life isn't fair
Yeah, I'll send down a wish and I'll send up a prayer
And then finally someone will see how much I care


What can you do when your good isn't good enough
And all that you touch tumbles down?
'Cause my best intentions
Keep making a mess of things,
I just wanna fix it somehow
But how many times will it take?
Oh, how many times will it take for me to get it right, to get it right?

Yesterday was a bad day. An extremely bad day. There isn't a reason to detail it. Or even to describe my emotions. I just don't understand that from the very moment I woke up it could by every second get worse.

Usually when I do something wrong, I know. When someone is upset with me I have an idea why. At the moment I'm just confused and hurt. I don't understand anything and I don't need this. I'm tired of never feeling good enough. Of always feeling like I'm a screw up. Some terrible person. And I don't even have a rational reason for it. It's just this emotion I can't shake. I feel diseased. I just cried and cried last night to Desmond asking him to answer all my questions. But all he could do was snuggle his tiny body closer to me and whimper too.

I just want to stop trying.

Re-encounter Joy in Faith

I refuse to admit that I'm something special. That my story one day will be told. My contribution to this world will hopefully go far, but unknowingly. Ultimately I want a career in a "seed" ministry. I'll never fully see the fruits of my labor and I'm fine with that. I don't want my name remembered, I want my message to be heard.

It's no secret I'm losing my mind. Perhaps I've already lost it. It isn't a secret that I have a world of problems and not all of them are medical. I don't deny my brokenness and I've come to a point where I've even stopped trying to mask it. I'm unable to mask it.

My faith in God is something that for many years has kept me above water. However there have been things lately that have made my faith, stagnate, if you will. Mostly my own selfishness. My own sin. It's been difficult for me to really dive into the type of prayer I'm accustomed to when I've severed my relationship with my God due to my actions.

For some odd reason my work in ministry hasn't suffered due to my sinfulness. Whether that by just pure grace or whatnot, I don't know. I never teach in error. However I'm ignorant to think that my teens are truly getting the best of me. I'm cheating them. So perhaps my previous statement is a lie. A way to make myself feel better. My work in youth ministry is suffering.

During Mass with Bishop Olmsted, his Excellency read a poem by Jessica Powers called "God is a Strange Lover" and a part really hit home to me.

God is the strangest of all lovers; His ways are past explaining. 
He sets His heart on a soul; He says to Himself, "Here will I rest my love" 
But He does not woo her with flowers or jewels or words that are set to music, 
no name endearing, no kindled praise His heart's direction prove.
His jealousy is an infinite thing. He stalks the soul with sorrows;
He tramples the bloom; he blots the sun that could make her vision dim.
He robs and breaks and destroys-there is nothing at last but her own shame, her own affliction,
and then He comes and there is nothing in the vast world but Him and her love of Him. 

God made my day today. I owe him my life. Really Steph. What are you doing.

Overrated Sense.

I'm in such a weird place right now. Don't take step backs. Don't take step backs. I feel so overwhelmed. So lost. So... empty, alone, forgotten, betrayed, unimportant, forsaken, desolate, needy, desperate, invisible, fragile, weak, hurt... Touch me and I'll crumble right before you.

Did today happen? My heart is so...

I can't describe anything.

Support.

No steps back. 


                                                                   Hold me and don't let go. Anyone. Please. I'm begging you. 


I'm in a daze where nothing is real.

Read my journal. It's a beautiful representation of insanity.

That one day? It won't come.

I want to climb the mountain to fight for what I believe in.

Limitations no way.

One step, then another.

Basckstreet Boys. That's what currently playing on my ipod right now. I would put it louder if I could but alas, Erin's little speakers only produce so much sound and I have yet to magically fix my computer on my own. The last five songs that have played have been so random. Hah. Oh, and now Whitney Houston. I love this song.

I've been afraid to blog. To think. To express myself. I take my journal out even to write and I stop myself. I feel trapped.

Every day I'm losing.

I liked you sitting here. Never enough.

I want to run. Always run.

What am I running from?

Everything hurts so much. Weakness permeates every part of me. I'm so tired.

I want to understand what's going on and how to prevent myself from losing grip on the tiny bit of reality I still have.

Every moment is...

"I Hear Voices All The Time"

I'm my biggest critic. I push myself to my breaking point and then past it all the while screaming at myself to do better. Try harder. Love more. Take less. I'm never satisfied with the job I do. There is always something that could have been made better at the work of my hands. I do my best but there is this part of me that just screams "do better". I have this engine inside of me that never stops. This voice that won't be silenced. However there comes a problem when you're handed a body that decides to stop functioning. There comes a problem when everything not only you want to do, but need to do you suddenly can't seem to. Madness seeps in.

I'm tired of the weight comments. Funny, I've waited my whole life to hear things like "you're too skinny" but the way it's being said to me pisses me off. I keep getting food thrown at me. I'm actually not "too skinny". Yeah, fine. I'm not fat. I'm not tiny though. Oh, and I'm not starving myself or purposely throwing up everything I consume. And starting tomorrow, it's going to get worse. I'm sorry I'm sick. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. As I'm writing this my dad just brings me a plate of food. I have this urge to throw it back into the kitchen. Everyone should be so thankful I have such a great control over my temper. I don't even say anything. I'll just cry, and eat and do my very best to keep it down.

Michael and I. I love him so damn much. No one has the slightest idea. However I swear if someone brings up marriage to me I think I might burst. Michael isn't going to marry me any time soon. He isn't ready, okay? Those bells you're hearing everyone? Get your damn ears checked. I'm glad you all approve. All of you. But he is no where close to being ready. He has a lot to figure out. So stop already. And no marriage means no baby!! I'm sorry I'm already 22 and that makes me old or something but it's just not happening. You think I don't think about it enough on my own? I don't need you all asking me when it's going to happen and pressuring me and making me feel older and older. Not to mention did we forget that I'm dying? Or would you all just like to forget?

I feel like all these walls are closing in on me. I have too many decisions to make. Not enough time. Not enough...me.