B a c k

​It’s difficult to be angry about the accident. It’s easy to be upset and hurt that Lowell isn’t here anymore, but I can’t stay angry at learning & growing from an event that was far out of my control. It happened, and that’s all anyone should need to know at this point.  

I don’t tell everyone about the accident. I really hate those sad eyes that people get when they hear about my year, and I am almost 100% positive that it doesn’t define who I am as a person. 

I’m still growing, everyday. I’m a hard worker, and I let my stubbornness get the best of me through this journey, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

It is a miracle that I am okay today, and it is a miracle that I am okay in general. 

Drive safely, folks. Tell your momma’s and dadda’s that you love them. Keep on keepin’ on. 

Full Circular Motions

Greetings to those of you who have continued to follow this blog even when I took a brief hiatus from writing on it. It has been a couple of years, a lot has happened and I have learned so much.

First of all, I took a road trip to Maine with one of my best friends last year. We packed up her car, and left the West side of the country in pursuit of new adventures and a whole new life. We certainly encountered a good couple of those.

So I had only ever 1. Lived with my parents, and 2. Lived in the greater Portland (Oregon) area. I remember Honestly thinking the East Coast is going to change my life. It absolutely did, and in more ways than one. In six months time, my entire life went completely full circle.

My time in Maine was short-lived, and it came to a quick halt when I got dressed for work one day and woke up two weeks later in the hospital.

I learned a lot of things about friendship.

In a new place, it didn’t matter how long I’d known a person or if our cousins went to school together, I had to rely on the charm and kindness I was born with. I got along pretty well with those, I’d say.

Just because you know someone from back home doesn’t always mean they’re going to be trustworthy or helpful when it comes to growing up. I picked a girl I hadn’t known for very long to move across the country with. She fueled my rebellion, (which I later realized actually doesn’t matter when you’re an adult) and she held me back entirely. I thought she would be the best person to trust, because we’re both ‘West Coast girls,’ but that quickly proved not to be true.

When you find yourself falling for a line cook at the restaurant you work at, don’t let months go by without saying anything. He probably feels the same way. You were scared, because he’s a good friend of yours, and that’s okay. You don’t need to open yourself up to everyone. I’m pretty conflicted on that one right there, but before you know it, shit happens and things change.

I moved across the country when I was 20 years old. Half a year later, and I am back home in the Pacific Northwest. I have actually been back home for 4 months at this point, but this year has left me with a lot of chances to grow weaker or get stronger.

I’m choosing to be stronger.

Almost six months ago, I woke up in the hospital. I really thought my name was Morda, and I seriously hated the johnny’s that all patients needed to wear.

My boyfriend (the line cook) and I were heading to work (a lil bit late) when he lost control of his car, and slid into (and broke) an electrical pole.

My parents were notified, and they needed to identify me by my tattoos. I had lost my ID earlier that month. Once we got into the hospital, we were placed in medically induced comas. I “woke up” five days later, and I became aware about a week and a half after that. He hasn’t woken up yet. If he does, he’ll begin the process of “waking up,” and he won’t be aware for another year and a half, at least.

I spent most of January in the hospital, and a rehabilitation facility before my dad flew in to escort me back home.

I was notified of my injuries, and I couldn’t have imagined they’d be so severe and so hidden to the naked eye. I broke my left collarbone, and I have a severe frontal lobe traumatic brain injury. I never really knew the kinds of things I had taken for granted.

  • Walking or standing straight up without having something to lean on is more tiring than I ever could have thought possible. Shortly after I woke up, I demanded to take a shower by myself, because it’s just a shower. So my three nurses left me alone, and I fell on the floor almost immediately after that.
  • Multitasking might be the one skill I never get back. Even as I’m writing this, I’m completely focused on the task at hand (literally.)
  • I used to have a wonderfully skilled memory, and now I can hardly remember if I went to a birthday party 2 nights ago or 2 weeks ago.

With all of that being said, I am such a lucky individual. There are a few things that inhibit my comprehensive thinking and balance, but I am able to get everything back. All I need to do is work my ass off for a couple more years, and I will be almost the same lost and confused girl I was beforehand. I was 19 when I started this blog, and I recently turned 21.

Thank you so much for reading this, I will be posting more and keeping updated about what’s going on. Feel free to ask me any questions.

Picking up the Pieces

Good evening, humans.

So I’m almost twenty years old. I recently decided to grow a backbone and figure some things out in my life, and that included a pretty tough breakup. Well, the breakup itself wasn’t tough, just everything afterwards.

Luckily for me, I fell for a wonderful person who has never wanted anything but the best for me. This meant full understanding and a comforting goodbye in the end. Unfortunately for us, however, long distance relationships are the worst concept in the universe. You’re taking two people who sort of refuse to address the distance because of the way they feel about each other. Over time the distance literally pulls you apart. You start only thinking about ways to see them, and find yourself waiting for the days you can spend with them.

Weeks will pass when you don’t do anything for yourself, because you started that countdown to kissing their face about fifteen days ago.

I was so excited to see him, and he was finally coming home. I wanted to ignore the whole speech I’d prepared, and just be around him. I wanted to pretend like my heart didn’t hurt every time I saw him get in his car and leave again, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t tell myself that it didn’t suck to attach myself to the one person who inevitably leaves at the end of the weekend. And that blows. I decided I needed to do something for myself and end the relationship. And if you’re reading this right now, I’m sorry.

He is always going to be my first love, and I’m glad I spent 50% of my time as a teenager with him. He’s honestly the best person I know, and I wish him well in every aspect of his life. Unfortunately, we’re just not teenagers anymore, and there is so much more in this world we need to experience.

So now that some time has passed, I have noticed that I need to pick up the pieces. I want to address a few of the things I’m doing to sort of heal this ache in my heart, because I can’t stay somber and lonely forever. I just can’t.

1. Put everything he/she’s given you into a box, and stuff it deep in a closet. We’ve seen this on TV and half the time the items are burned, tarnished, ripped to shreds, and thrown into a bottomless pit. I don’t think that’s necessary. I’m a very nostalgic person, and I really enjoy reading through the old letters he wrote to me while we were in high school, and I catch myself smelling his clothes to see if a scent is still stuck to it. I don’t care if that’s weird. Having mementos from a person who loved you inside and out is really cool, and I wouldn’t ever want to forget about the good times. Eventually you will fall in love again, and I’m sure you will throw things away. I suppose I just can’t have them sitting in my room any more. And that’s okay.

2. Stop talking about him. I was sitting in my car the other day with some friends, and I kept bringing up little stories that involved him and I. Naturally, I spent three years (give or take) with the guy. We’ve got a ton of stories, especially ones that relate to all my non-single friends and their couple stories. I realized after  a few anecdotes that we are actually broken up. This means that my friends know the relationship is over, and I’m sure it doesn’t help me to keep bringing him up whenever I can. I closed that chapter of my life so that I could make new memories, and share new experiences in other facets of my life. I will always appreciate the things he did for me, but I’m in the business of moving forward.

3. Understand that getting under someone else won’t help me get over him. Hehe, we’ve all been told by our best friends that we need to find a new boy super quick so that we won’t think too hard about the thing we’ve just let go. It’s important to move on, yes, but why should you automatically put your heart on the line after something as serious as your first love? That will literally only end in more heartache. If you’re used to being in a loving relationship with someone, you’re not doing yourself any favors by jumping into a new relationship or even just in bed with someone else. I love that being single means I can work on myself, and figure out the tools that I need to grow as my own person.

4. HAVE FUN. Yes, that’s right. Go out with your friends, become an independent person, start to love yourself. It’s so much fun to just exist as your own person. And maybe while I’m out there having all this fun, I’ll find out what I want to do with my life, where I want to live, and the places I need to go. People grow every day, and it’s because of the things we do that shape us into the people we become. I can’t sit around and spend my life waiting for other people, and that initiative is what I need to become the best me that I can be.

5. I refuse to shit talk my ex. This is the most important part of picking up the pieces, I think. There are times when you want to vent to your best friend about fights you’re having, and that’s okay, but it’s absolutely pointless to sit around talking about how crappy of a person your ex is. They’re out of your life now, and does it actually make you feel better..? I doubt it. Because they’re probably not that bad, and if they’re so bad, why were you dating them for so long? Ya know? Talking bad about your exes to other people makes you look so much worse. Actually, talking badly about anyone just makes you look terrible. I fell in love with my ex almost every day for several years, and he made me feel confident as a person, and I appreciate him a lot for that. He was my best friend, and timing/distance was horrible, but I’m very grateful for all the times he woke me up with “good morning beautiful” texts, and the times he would make me laugh when shit got bad. So you won’t see me walking around with a bitter face, telling everyone about how unfairly I was treated, because I simply wasn’t.

In conclusion, I am almost twenty years old. I am very much looking forward to this next chapter of my life, but I am eternally grateful for the chapter I have just closed.

AF

This One is for the Girls

Good morning!

It’s basically eight in the morning, and I don’t recall the last time I was awake (and fully rested) at this time. Perhaps one of my least favorite things about nineteen. Sleep is hard.

I was just looking at a few old pictures of myself, and I was curious about something. In about half the pictures I take, I’m wearing some sort of makeup. And I hate those pictures. Sometimes it’s just mascara and eyeliner, and other days I’ll put my whole face on. If I were to describe myself in two words, I would use 1) plain, and 2) granola. I’m not dirty, no, I just hate makeup. 

I refuse to be one of those women who is scared of letting someone see what I “really” look like, because I should always look like what I really look like. Unfortunately, that’s apparently not how society works. I’ve been told my whole life that beauty is pain.

Wax everything, because the hair we were born with is disgusting, and no one wants to look at it. Okay, so I’ve been waxing my eyebrows and “mustache” since I was fourteen. FOURTEEN.

Enhance the natural color of your eyes with these shades of eye shadow, because your eyes aren’t pretty enough without a “smokey” outline.

If you put bronzer on your cheekbones you’ll appear more delicate, older, and mature.

It wasn’t until I realized that I wear makeup for other people that I realized I actually like myself without it.

One hundred percent of the time, I feel prettier without makeup. (Sorry, mom) I learned at a young age that society will judge me in every facet of my existence, and I just had to be okay with it. There was no way that I could just feel okay with myself, because other people might not like me.

My mom helped me wax my eyebrows, because she was probably scared that I’d be made fun of in school. She taught me how to wear makeup so that I could make friends, and be pretty. I love her for that, but I’m sad that I had to teach myself how to be strong enough to realize that looks do not matter. 

Your body is borrowed, and it’s the one you’re going to have until the day you die. Take pride in it, and make your health a priority. Love yourself, because you pour more negative energy into yourself than you’ll ever pour into another human being. It is terrifying how mean we can be to our reflection in the mirror.

You don’t know how beautiful you look when you smile. You don’t get to see the way your eyes light up when you’re talking about your favorite book, or something that you’re absolutely passionate about. You only get to see the way you look at yourself in the mirror, and the pictures you take of yourself, or that others take of you.

Believe me when I say that you are beautiful. I don’t even know you, but if you have ever really smiled, or died of laughter, you are a beautiful person. You have created light in someone’s heart, and people fucking appreciate you. Don’t let yourself down by repeatedly knocking yourself over every chance you get to stand up.

Hehe, one time I put a full face of makeup on before work, because I kept thinking “I want to look pretty today.” Upon arriving at work, I stared at myself in the parking lot. I painted several colors onto my face so that I could enhance the way I really looked. What good does that do?

None.

I have learned to love myself. I fall in love with everything around me, and my heart melts when people notice things about my that don’t pertain to the way I look.

You’re smart. You’re lovely. You’re funny. You have a way with words. You are so nice. You’re strong. You are worth everything you could possibly want. Your heart is so big. You have a beautiful body, and you are a beautiful soul.

Fall in love with yourself, because it truly is what matters. Everything that you think about truly matters. Embrace yourself.

AF

Breathless Moments

Greetings, fellow readers, writers, monsters, and everyone in between.

I am nineteen years old. A tiny baby through the eye of the universe, for I have hardly stepped my toes into the pond of life. People come and go, but they leave us with moments that ultimately paralyze us, whether it be with happiness or sorrow.

Being as young as I am, I have experienced moments of pure elation, and the kind of things that have broken me apart. I used to wonder about the amount of hurt a human can handle. I no longer believe that we are the kind of species to give in. We are so strong. We survive the most painful events, and we learn from every single feeling we experience. How beautiful is that?

In my opinion, the most wonderful gift that we have been given is that we don’t get to know what “could have” happened in a different circumstance. We don’t have the knowledge of events that “should have” taken place. We are left with the memories of what has happened, and we have these lessons beaten into our minds that tell us how to survive tomorrow. It’s only when you go further into your own mind that you learn all about the ability to thrive. Surviving isn’t the goal, and it should never be the goal. Don’t ever lose your craving for life.

When I was sixteen, I fell in love for the first time. You were coming back from a 5 day camping trip and you were about to embark on a small trip to Seattle. My heart longed for you in your absence, and I had never craved another human beings presence so much. I couldn’t figure out exactly how to put the way I felt until you hugged me and told me you loved me. Without as much as a pause of hesitation, I responded. I told you that I loved you, too, and it was the first time I truly felt safe inside someone’s heart.

When I was eleven, I felt betrayal for the first time in my life. The day my parents sat me down to deliver the news of their upcoming separation, my heart broke. My life was never going to be the same, and neither was theirs. I could feel the pain in the room around me, and I fell silent. I haven’t been able to acknowledge my true feelings about that moment to this day, but I felt so scared. I remember thinking to myself as a child, “man, am I glad I have the perfect family.” I suppose I only wish I could have known what unhappiness truly felt like before I convinced myself that my parents were the epitome of just the opposite. I wanted to believe that true love existed, and I wanted so badly to believe that I was the creation of something beautiful like love. Since then, however, I have grown to understand why things don’t necessarily last forever. Nothing in the world is set in stone, and I love that about the universe. Its constant flow of energy forces us to constantly change who we are, and I absolutely love my parents for what they did. They chose to take different routes in life, and they wanted the happiness they deserve. If you two are reading this, I appreciate you so much. More than you’ll ever know. You’ve taught me everything I know, and I can’t wait to pass that knowledge on.

When I was seventeen, I felt helpless for the first time in my life. I spent a year volunteering for the most beautiful organization. They specialize in immediate grief counseling. I was trained to be a grief counselor when I was seventeen. I had spent a year being able to help those who needed me, and there was one day that truly broke me. I received a text that morning, a student had passed away at a high school near my district. When I arrived at the school to set up a grieving room for students and staff to mourn the loss, I was startled to find that no one seemed to care. I read this students’ story over and over again, and I gave him a place in my heart. I never met them, and I wanted so badly to make sure their story was not forgotten. Rage consumed me when I faced the challenge of feeling helpless when all I was supposed to do was help. I mourned that student that day, and I swallowed my anger for the good of myself and those around me. I learned that only I can make myself feel helpless, and I’m the only one that can make sure I don’t stay that way. Rest in peace, love. I know it’s been two years, but I think about you often. You inspired strength in me that I wasn’t sure I had. I wish I could have known you while you walked among the rest of us.

When I was eighteen, I felt heartbreak for the first time. I vividly remember opening my door to see you standing in front of me, terrified of the words that were about to escape your lips. I could feel the space between us widening, and I wanted so badly to pull you back in. I don’t know whether it hurt me more that I saw it coming, or that no matter how much I loved him, it just wouldn’t be enough. When your heart breaks, the physical pain of your soul attempting to embed itself into your muscles hurts more than the words. The only person I knew that could take the pain away was the one person who delivered it to my front door. Tears flooded my eyes, and the only words that escaped my mouth were “please, don’t leave.” And he did. I don’t know if I have ever fully recovered from that moment, but it taught me more about myself than any other experience. Humans are resilient creatures, and letting go of first love hurts like hell, but the promise of loving again makes everything so much more beautiful.

I know I have experienced much more than this, but these are the select moments that I can recall losing my breath. I have been knocked over more times than you could believe, but the strength I carry with me makes every painful experience worth it.

AF

A Few Friendly Reminders

Humans are strange. We tend to do things to each other, and we don’t necessarily understand that we are hurting each other and ourselves. I want to point out a few friendly reminders that you should live by, as a human being:

1. Skinny shaming is rude. Fat shaming is rude. Shaming people for things they cannot control is rude. If you’re picking up the hint I’m dropping, then I think you understand what I’m trying to say. I was born with a metabolism faster than a flying bullet, and that was apparently reason enough to be tortured throughout middle school. At times, I just prayed that I would gain weight so that people could stop telling me to eat cheeseburgers. During the summer, my friends often refused to hangout with me at the pools because I was thinner than them. In the eighth grade, I asked a boy out (stay tuned for another friendly reminder), and his friend responded with “no, Anorexis, *blank* does not want to go out with you. He probably couldn’t hug you without snapping you in half.” Sigh. And the middle school blues ensued. Because of how horrible I felt when I was shamed for the inability to gain weight, I would never shame someone for their inability to lose it. In fact, I wouldn’t shame anyone for something they cannot control.

Sidenote: It does not matter whether they are a celebrity or your next door neighbor, there is no reason for your opinion to be heard if it’s going to do anything but empower someone. Also: you might think that telling someone they’re “too skinny” is a compliment. Remove this stupid idea from your mind, punch yourself straight in the nose, and then ask someone how their day is going instead.

2. Girls, you can make the first move. When I was growing up, I was often scared of my innate nature to want to be the one to approach guys and let them know I liked them. Perhaps I’m impatient, but I don’t want to sit around and wait to find out whether or not you like me through the rumor mill. It wasn’t until late in high school that I embraced my “masculine” energy, and started acting how I wanted to. This means: It’s okay to text a guy first, and he’s probably just as nervous as you are. If he’s not, good. Now you know, and you can move on. There’s no need to torture yourself into holding back something you want to say when you want to say it. If you’re a girl who likes watching guys chase after her, good. Let them chase you, girl. We live in a universe of crazy possibilities, and miracles happen every day. Do not be scared of whether or not someone is going to think you’re being too forward, that’s a waste of energy. Also, if you ever make fun of someone for making a first move, please understand how difficult it might have been for them to build up enough courage to do so. Treat humans with care.

3. Guys, you don’t need to pretend like you don’t have human emotions. I know I’m not the only girl who is sick and tired of you fella’s pretending like things don’t bother you. This means that when someone hurts you, it’s okay to be sad. If you like a girl, you don’t need to tell your friends that she’s just a bootycall when they joke around about you two. You don’t need to be the alpha male, and you don’t need to act like you’re this ultimate badass who feels nothing, and is impacted by nothing. That’s unhealthy. This goes for you ladies out there as well. Be yourself. You could very well be hurting someone close to you by hiding your feelings behind a wall, and you’re definitely hurting yourself.

4. It’s okay to put your needs in front of someone else’s. Love is crazy and unfair, but the most unfair thing you can do for yourself is put your needs on the back burner while you’re tending to someone else’s. Toxic people aren’t always bad for you. Sometimes they can be a person you love, but can’t be with forever, and that’s okay. It’s alright to admit that you value your life enough to treat it with kindness. Sometimes you just need to take a leap of faith, and know that things are going to be okay.

5. It is okay to be alone. No one is looking at you while you’re in a cafe by yourself, thinking: “man, where are all her friends?” I know this, because 1) people don’t take all of their friends everywhere they go, and 2) no one is paying attention to your state of loneliness, unless they’re trying to swoop in and join you. I remember having this crazy anxiety right before I would enter a party alone. I figured everyone would be looking at me, and I knew they would hate the way my dress looked on me. Before I knew it, I had wasted majority of my time worrying about what everyone thought about me, and I realized that I hadn’t taken two minutes to care about what anyone else was wearing, or what their hair looked like. In that moment, I realized that no one else cared, either. If they did, then they’re not a part of my life, and that’s okay.

6. It’s absolutely none of your business who has slept with whom, and who is currently sleeping with whom. That’s all.

Don’t hurt yourself, and do refrain from hurting others as well.

AF

5 December 2014

Hello again, beautiful people.

I have spent a great deal of time outlining my first novel. I’m so incredibly excited to begin hacking away at the terrible first draft. I do, however, need people who are willing to help me.

For years I have been giving my work out to people who love me, and they only tell me how lovely my writings are. I appreciate them deeply, but I need someone to critique me as hard as I judge myself. If you’re up for the challenge, please contact me via email:

alleeeferguson@gmail.com

🙂