Season Finale

There is something about this moment in my life right now that feels like the end of a 6 season TV series. This is the last episode, the season finale of Red Panda, and here comes the big surprise. There is no such thing as happily ever after. Paths get fucked up all the time and lead us to where we never thought we'd be. TV shows tend to end after some big event occurs (like graduation). I leave for Chicago to fly out to Austria in just 45 minutes. This journey, with you my dear Red Panda blog, has been chaos and beautiful, sorrowful and breaking, renewing and reviving, destructive and instrumental.

I walked out of my apartment, last one out, leaving my key and parking tag behind. It would have been movie like if my suitcase hadn't gotten got on one of the rivets in the sidewalk and I dropped it completely. (Yes, I laughed). Fuck movie moments. I've had enough to be grateful for, but they are just moments and moments slip by. There are people and loves and hurts I've hung onto because I hoped somehow they would be renewed, fulfilled, and come back to me. I have to let go. This is the final chapter of of a part of me that is gone now.

Can you believe that 6 years ago I was graduating high school, and I was so lost and that terrified me? I lost myself completely, just to find me again, and to find myself in the eyes and hearts of others I never could have imagined in my life. I am learning how to be honest and authentic, not just with friends or strangers, but finally with my family. It has taken years to not fear them, fear what they think, what they'd say or do, and if they wouldn't love me anymore. I can't be careful just because of that fear. Since when I have I ever backed down and turned around and stopped? These last six years prove that I don't give up. I'm emotional and tearing up, but not because I'm sad. I just can't believe I made it. My cousin told my oldest sister yesterday that, "Hannah looks so happy. I have never seen her just look this happy." I am.

I'm moving out, moving on, moving forward, and I am going to make it. To anyone who followed my journey through Red Panda, thanks for being there. And to future Hannah: look at you, girl. You've come so far, you've endured, you've loved, you've conquered! I love you now, and I will love you always.

List Out

This is it. This is my last post as a college undergrad. In just 30 minutes, my graduating class and I will be lining up to do a run-through of the ceremony tomorrow. Then, tomorrow comes, I walk in with my classmates, and I get my diploma (in the mail because I'm technically not done 'til after my trip to Austria). I leave for Austria in 2 days. I have to tell my parents I'm moving out when they come up for my graduation tomorrow. I'm nervous. I'm anxious. I'm ready.

When I started this blog, I don't really remember what I hoped it would become. I knew that it would be a place I could come to and vent, poetize, and figure out what's going on in my head. I have unleashed many stories, poems, and tears over the things I've written on here. This blog has seen me at my worst and at my most in love or happiest. I am rising out of yet another series of deep depression, and I continue to rise stronger. I can't believe that just in 9 months, I had at least 3 periods of deep depression. That has to be the worst I've experienced yet, but I emerged still.

I'm more anxious to tell my parents (my mom) I'm moving out in July. Even though I will be 24 in a month an a half, I still get so much anxiety when it comes to talking to my mom about anything. She is very self-righteous, and seems to enjoy making others need her, or having others need her. I keep thinking she is just going to severely judge me for any decision I make. I remember that my sister left home and moved out at midnight when she was almost 23. If she can do that, I can move out during the day and in a planned fashion. I know my relationship with my parents is different than hers, and I know my mom views me differently, but that doesn't mean it's right. I also just need out. If I wait around and stay at home, H will be offended and hurt by that, and I also will prolong the inevitable (moving out). Sometimes making things work, surviving, learning how to live on my own or save money, is by forcing myself to just do it. That's what I've always wanted to just do, but my mom has always infiltrated my thoughts with panic about finances, causing me to believe I won't make it. She recently said to me that she was concerned I wouldn't make it on my own. Well, look at me, mom. Trying to make it on my own.

Reasons to tell my parents why I want to move out:
1. I need to just do it and be responsible for myself
2. I want to prove I can make it
3. The girl I'm going to live with is AWESOME and the situation is perfect for me
4. The rent is not bad, and I need to take this opportunity
5. I want to live closer to work
6. After living on my own, it's hard to come back home and be the kid again (because yes, I will be the kid still).
7. After living on my own, it's going to make us living together much harder, and I want to keep our relationship good.
8. I'm going to be 24 years old.
9. I want to connect to the community I'm going to be a part, so living there is a better decision, especially now that it is an option.

Yes, I took a picture of those reasons. Yes, I have weird knots in my stomach just thinking about talking to my mom about moving out. My dad brought it up though, last weekend. He told me I needed to start thinking about the cost of an apartment in Indy, and other expenses. I told him I had thought about those things in detail, and since I didn't know anyone who needed a roommate, that I couldn't afford to get an apartment on my own. But just within 2 days of saying that, I talked to my good friend, and she connected me to her best friend who was looking for a housemate within the next couple of months. Ary can live there. Rent is affordable. She's a fun-loving, honest, open, and spiritual girl.

Well, I have to leave this coffee shop and go back to campus and get this practice over with.

Quotes on Decoration

"Love with your whole heart." A TJ Maxx wooden canvas decor piece has that phrase written on it. There are others similar to it that say, "Home is wherever I'm with you" or "Home is where you hang your heart." Those didn't cause a twinge of any feeling in me like the first one. I feel pain thinking about that phrase. I've had to fit a role my whole life, I've played a role my whole life, and I've been afraid to just make people accept me for who I am and what I really think. I was afraid until I met some of the friends I've made in the last two years.

Trust me, I've thought about so much stuff in the last few months that my mind could explode. The good part is that all the things I wasn't dealing with in a good way, or not really dealing with at all, have slapped me in the face and demanded attention. The relationship I created with my parents is on the verge of completely disappearing and becoming something else. The hurtful words and holier-than-thou beliefs about my sister have dissipated, and I refused to apologize to my mom about something I said she thought was rude. I am changing. Is it love to finally show who I am? My sister told me that I have been a form of deceitful, and she is right. It's been out of fear that I've withdrawn and not said otherwise in the past, but I have slowly shifted from that as my thoughts, beliefs, ideals, and morals have grown and changed.

Gosh, I want to love with my whole heart. I've been shown love to look so conditional. I told my friend A last night that it's not that I don't believe someone out there could be the perfect-timing-Alex for me. I know I'm not capable of loving a man at this point. What happened to me, what has happened to me, those scars and that trauma has caused a ripple effect, and I didn't even realize that until now. This school year led me to become a very different person. Is there a difference between deeply caring and deeply loving? How do I become capable of loving someone?

The best choice for me right now is to not try to commit to anyone for a while. I don't know how long "a while" is, but I haven't jumped into a new relationship thingy and it's been three weeks since I ended things with K. I'd say I'm proud of me, and I am, but at the same time, I've been too severely emotionally depressed, sickly/ill, and busy.  Though I have reached out to some, it's been half heartedly. I even asked someone to coffee, which he postponed because of business, but I was kind of relieved he did. A said its possible to have a relationship with someone where we "girl talk" but also are in love. That'd be nice. A male version of B and my cousin would be perfect for me. Someone who really listens to what I say and someone who doesn't freak out about what I say.

You know how doomed I'd be if the wrong person found my blog? I've thought about that a little bit, but it would also kind of be relieving because then I wouldn't have to say everything to people. However, some things have been shared when I probably wasn't in the calmest state of mind. I'd really like for the cognitive dissonance to be reduced. You either change your mindset or change your behavior. I do both in different situations. I don't know. Some people can never be their true selves, which is strange and somewhat sad to think about.

A might have found me a roommate; her best friend needs a housemate in August. We're supposed to video chat tonight, and then officially meet once I'm back from Austria, which I can't believe I'm leaving for in A WEEK! The setup is perfect for me, and even the timing is ideal. Two whole months at my new job would give me a steady income, and not too much time at home. My sister offered me to move in with her and her boyfriend, but he's moving in June, around the time I'd need to move in. I'd live there for two months just to move out? I don't know. I want to not move back in with my parents, but my stuff is already there, and moving Ary twice wouldn't be fair to her. I'm conflicted. At this point, if I move in with my sister, my mom will take it directly as something against her, like I'm choosing my sister over her. There's already all this tension over stupid shit, over my mom just never standing down and always having to be right in her beliefs. Well, I guess the joke's on you mom because we don't believe those things anymore. So, her righteousness has no hold on us, the argument doesn't work anymore, and it doesn't give her more credibility.

I can't believe I graduate in 6 days. Maybe I'll find love in Austria. I don't mean a man. Maybe I'll find healing and be able to purge myself of some of the baggage I'm taking there with me. I overheard someone in a line for a concert say (basically) "The flight attendant will probably stop me from boarding with a carry on bag because I have too much baggage." So I rephrased that as, "I have too much emotional baggage to bring a carry-on." Well, I am hoping that I can leave some behind.

S/p/l/i/t

Last night I watched the movie Split with my friend B for her birthday. We tend to watch creepy/horror movies together. I needed a good creeped out experience, but this movie wasn't just some aimlessly gory and horrific film. I do watch movies with the lens of "what does this movie say about our culture?" and "why was this movie made?" Normal people don't watch movies with that in mind, but due to my college education, I am doomed to analyze the crap out of media. It's okay. It helps me find the valuable parts of what I'm watching, and also to be a little objective when watching something.

So, the basic synopsis of the movie is a young adult male that has a personality disorder kidnaps three teenage girls. These girls meet several of the male's personalities. Two of the girls have never faced hardship, innocence stolen, abuse, etc, and the third girl was put into the custody of her uncle, who has molested her since she was a little girl, after her father died. The Male repeats different times about having "untouched girls" for "the beast." Once his 24th personality emerges, it ravages the "untouched girls" and starts charging toward the third girl. She had obtained the male's shotgun and was shooting at him until she enclosed herself in a cell for protection. When the male came to it, he started pulling apart the bars so that he could eat her, but then he saw the scars and marks on her stomach and arms. He saw that she wasn't untouched, but rather had been abused (like he had been by his mother years ago).

He stops trying to reach her and tells her she is pure - that the damaged are pure. Because she was (and maybe was still) abused, she understood things way beyond what those other two girls could. That made me think about the power of abuse and how people who haven't been through something traumatic react to something versus those who have. In the moment of something so terrifying, you realize what is about to happen to you, and it might not make sense (to an outside viewer if they could see) how you respond. We who watch what is happening on the TV screen can objectively say, Oh wow, girl you shouldn't have done that, but done this. But I have been in that moment where my actions couldn't match what seemed sensible. I couldn't make up a clear, quick response. All I knew in that terrifying moment was: get it over with, stay calm, survive, don't provoke them further.

The point of Split wasn't to terrify the public about abduction and split personality disorder, The point was that when people abuse others, there are terrible effects as a result. The victim will always live life affected by that trauma, and they will never react to circumstances the same way as those who haven't been through abuse. I'd like to be optimistic and say one day I will fully heal from the trauma, but I won't. My brain will always be scarred by it. My decisions in life are affected by my fears, my scars, my past trauma. The only way for the Male to cope was to develop personalities that were stronger than himself. But eventually that erupted into chaos, abduction, and murder.

So, yeah I did go to bed with images of James crawling up my walls and coming to eat my bowels, but I wasn't really frightened by that movie itself. I was frightened by how horrible the long term effects of abuse can be. I live in fear that I'll have to face someone I am scared to face. I live in fear somehow they will find a way to contact me again. There are so many things I just should've done in that moment, but I didn't do, and I cannot fucking hold that over my head anymore. It's done. That moment is gone, but the effects are evermore present. My trust in people is strained. 

Last Night I Did a Lot of Thinking

It’s nothing new that I overthink. But last night, I wrote out a poem, or was it this morning, about someone that I miss. The problem with dating different people or loving different people is that there are parts of them that I will always love more. I take away the parts that hurt and the parts that healed, and I’m left jaded and with expectations. We all have expectations. I’m no exception to that. 

“Don’t let the imaginary person in your head stop you from loving the person right in front of you.” I read that on Tumblr a few years ago now. I used to really struggle with having this ideal, this prince charming in my head. To some extent, the dreams I had of this person still affect what I imagine, but also people these days just trigger fears. I think that if I had less experience, I’d be less jaded, and things would bother me less. Like the cowardice or distance or selfish language wouldn’t freak me out as much because I’d have nothing it reminded me of. People stop putting me at ease. Things end once that happens. Either they ghost me or I end the relationship. 

Nostalgia, as I’ve said somewhere else, is dangerous to play games with. You’ve got to be careful where you let your thoughts dwell and stay. Sometimes it’s really harmful. I don’t know if thinking about C is really harmful or not. Don’t worry. I am not about to contact him and ask, Would you please take me if I moved to where you are? We have an understanding. I used to want to settle down, and he can’t do the distance between us. I get that. Sometimes perfect moments are just that: moments. I’ve had several perfect moments with him, and maybe full-time would be completely awful. I can’t let myself fantasize about what I don’t know.

I wrote a poem, and it conjured up feelings I had. Come June, we met two years ago, and it seems like a life time ago, but also just like a couple days ago. I remember how are banter made me feel. I remember how inclusive R was, and invited me to join them after the concert. I remember how I had to stop somewhere to buy chapstick because my lips were hurting so bad. They saved me a seat right next to C, of course. It’s funny how I best connected with the single one, and then R. We had good conversations. I miss them all, but mostly miss those two, missing C of course the most. I don’t know when I’ll see them again, if I’ll see them again. What’s hard is that I think part of me can’t really commit to someone now because I am in love with the idea of C and I finally trying out a relationship together. I admit that, in love with the idea. I don’t know if it would really work. With where I’m at now, it takes away the limitations of who I can date. To the deepest part of my heart, I do want to move to Texas. I’ve been trying to make that happen. But then Grad school kind of fell through, and my plans of moving closer to him did, too. 

After my relationship crumbled with Christian back in 2012, I promised myself to never choose a guy over my future/career/ my plans while I'm trying to figure out what to do with my life. And I haven't so far. I've not let it stop me. But to some extent, I have. I've let past hurts or past loves stop me from moving forward in relationships. It's not like I have ended relationships that shouldn't have ended. I have always had valid reasons, and I wasn't being a crazy jerk.

I guess the question is, would I move my life for the chance to be with C?  Am I, deep down, in love with C? Could I fully commit and trust him? Could he feel that way about me in return, and also trust me?

Maybe. I don't know. 

I don't have a paper due so I wrote a blog post instead

"Oh, what the hell? I just can't win for losing." I think of those lyrics from the Rob Thomas song because it seems like I just catch a break. I went to the MedStat clinic yesterday morning at 7:30 AM. They ran all kinds of tests on me to see what was wrong, and all of those tests came up negative. I'm fine. Except I'm not. I woke up last night knowing something wasn't right with my body. I can't prove anything, but my sister suggested I get an x-ray of my abdomen. There's a possibility I've got a hernia or I pulled a muscle. One thing is for certain, I don't feel right and it is partially self-inflicted.

The doctor sat down with me and talked about depression, self-harm, and ways to find peace or help when things are dark. I've always been apprehensive toward hospitals, doctors, and health professionals in general. I don't fully know why. I think it's because some of them are rude, but also I don't trust that just because they are "doctors" that means they can actually help me. Maybe it's because I've walked into a hospital room as my friend died. Whatever the reason, it's pretty serious for me to make myself go.

I could really use just some kind of break. The heaviness on my mind, heart, chest, stomach, and skin is nearly too much. There is nothing I can take that will make me feel better. I temporarily felt better at work today, and enjoyed some conversations with co-workers and some outgoing customers. I thought a lot, but not as much as I usually do. I was able to stay a little busier, and that was nice. I can't believe I haven't had coffee since Monday. It seems weird that I don't feel that bad without it, but it does feel weird.

My mind isn't so restless at this moment, but there are things weighing on it. I keep thinking about summer of 2015, and the people I met then. The things that hurt. The things that were wonderful. And it's strange how certain things held me back from really letting myself have feelings for certain people, but now that I am not really in this strict christian belief system, it kind of opens up my options of love interests. I mean, once I move out it's a bit more open, because if I were to live outside of my parents' laws openly while living with them, I'd get kicked out anyway. Probably. But I know that I really don't want to do distance again. As much as I deep down still love and care for him, I would have to live near him for us to be together at last. That's how he feels, that is also how I feel. I don't make enough money to do distance that far.

Something that also has been on my mind is that I don't know how to love anymore. It isn't that I don't love my friends and family because I do. I mean, I don't think I can commit myself to anyone. Things trigger me and scare me. Even in my head, though I love some people to some extent, I don't think I could give myself to them fully. I don't think I am capable of that. But then I read this post from TWLOHA "Your love still works." That is a beautiful statement. Can I still love someone deeply and it last? Can they go past my fears and be real, be honest, be kind, and not be frightening or threatening, and not be cowardly?

Worse than Not So Good

Last night, I crumbled and did something I haven't done in almost a year. The past week and a half have reminded me of all the reasons I hated feeling. I know in my head that being numb again would be terrible, too, but I'm caught in a paradox. I feel so much, yet I can't truly love or trust really anyone. Those who have said they love me have proven their love to be conditional or just a lie. Those who want to play the victim will do so, and those who are truly victims refuse to stay that way.

Everything inside of me feels heavy. I look at my body and I feel uncomfortable. I have gained weight, and lost motivation. Sometimes I have spurts of energy, but it's minor. Being here at school complete takes away my motivation. I hate this place. I know that, come summer, I'll be daily active and not be here in this state of "I am gross." It'll be okay there. I am dreading moving in with my parents. I've spilled my heart out on here, and I think anyone who has read this blog would understand why. I don't want to be treated like a child who still has to report back to her parents.

From my relationship being in shambles, my uncle dying, my relationship then ending, my uncle's funeral, the underlying judgment and assholery of my mom's family, and my nephew busting his mouth... Last week was really bad. You know when people say that one negative comment out of 100 still grabs your attention? Well, every good thing that did happen last week was completely outbalanced by the bad, because the bad was pretty bad.

I don't belong anywhere. I have a new job that I start in June, but that doesn't mean I belong. The worst part is I KNOW I'm depressed. School is ending soon, I'll be in Austria, but those things don't take away my state. I am better this morning than I was last night, but not by much. I feel fat and want to starve myself for a few days. That's how I feel. I feel empty. What was the point of all this? If my family knew the truth about me, they wouldn't love me the same. I'd like to think differently, but I know I'm right.

It gets worse with the fact that Erica is going to be gone all summer. I come back from Austria, and she's in Colorado. Mike is moving to Wisconsin. I'm leaving Grace, so my friends won't be in close quarters anymore. Certain friends of mine are already too busy for me anyway. I almost don't want to take my friend out for her birthday this weekend. She's been so absent. I've tried continually to reach out and see her but she's always busy. It's not like we're even going to talk much when we graduate. She'll be too busy with whatever job she gets and her boyfriend. That's how it goes. Yeah?

Wow, I can't believe how sorry I am sounding for myself. I never wanted to meet this version of me again. I don't want to feel so sorry for myself and be so pitiful. I'm really discouraged. I can leave it at that. I am discouraged, last week was really bad and really painful, I am sad and down, and I don't have much energy. People leave all the time, Friendships end. It's really just the way life goes. But that doesn't make it hurt less. People in my past taught me to never tell anyone you need them. They don't fucking care that you do.

Heat Wave in My Brain

Today has been a bedrest day for me. This last week I've felt anxious, stressed, frustrated, nauseous, and had a fever all last night. On top of those things, I also was on my period, which was the worst one I can recall, symptom wise. I've been in a lot of physical pain this week. My mind has been in an anxious state lately, too. When I fall into funks, I can't remember clearly when the last time I felt normal was. I know that's very strange, but my energy levels now are so low. This post sounds so much like a diary entry.

The last time I had a counseling session was February. I rescheduled my last one. Within the last few months, I've become less trusting of so many people. I'm not sure what I'm going to do when I move back home. Counseling has been extremely helpful, but I have to leave Deb behind. She's a part of Grace, and I am leaving here. I wonder if there is a possibility I could meet her once a month, but I kind of doubt that could happen. I know there are a couple of amazing people in my life that I do get good counsel from, even if I am not telling them everything.

Will I miss anything here? My mind has been so distracted due to depression and lack of emotions. Right now, I'm distracted by my physical pain and how it's deterring me from working out or doing yoga. I'd just get weak if I tried. But yeah, I think there are features I will miss. I was recently recounting some stories to my friend Jessie about last year. As much as I would like to say I'm over all my past hurts, that just wouldn't be true. It's good to know I feel things again, I balance them so much better than I used to, and I'm much more in control of my emotions. I am disappointed that particular past things hurt still. Physical pain's got nothing on heartbreak. Losing someone you love that you thought you'd have in your future causes pain in your mind and your body.

By now, I thought I'd be sitting at his baseball games and cheering him on. I thought we'd be graduating together and our families having dinner after the graduation. I thought we'd finally connect and be together. I reread what I wrote winter 2015, about the night where he confessed his feelings for me. Nostalgia is dangerous. When I was numb, I saw him and it made no difference. I was at the rec a few days ago, jumping rope by the green room, and he was working out in there. I walked by him to get the rope. He walked by me to get his baseball gear, and of course I was invisible. But I became invisible a long time ago. I wasn't surprised by that. What did surprise me was the hint of pain in my chest.

Now I'm crying. Not sobbing. Just simple tears. My hands are freezing and my face is on fire. How can my body be in two different states, and have two different temperatures?

No Guarantees

Five minutes.
If only I could breathe easily in just the five minute break from class tonight. Yoga has taught me how to breathe efficiently, to some extent. But I don't consciously have that breathing in mind when anxiety creeps on me. I tend to forget about the tattoo on my hip that says "breathe." Why can't I remember that it is a crucial part of my life? Oxygen keeps me alive. Slow breaths calm me down. Exercise lifts my spirits. And one thing can crush all of that progress in just a few seconds. I recognize a trigger once I am triggered, but if only I could avoid scenarios that lead to triggers in the first place. I don't have any strange mutant powers to warn me of future things.

Uneasy.
There is a heaviness on my chest and a sickening knot in my stomach. I'm in pain, yet it's all derived from the anxiety in my head. How does the brain inflict physical discomfort from mental discomfort?  Why is the brain so controlling yet so out of control? Maybe that's just my brain. Maybe everyone else functions this way. I know everyone doesn't think this way. Or is my brain telling me that?? Back to my poem which I read at Inkspot launch party (and in that literary magazine it was published), I cannot trust my brain. I don't have a choice though because I cannot function without it.

I think class is about to reconvene. My mind is full of sadness, heaviness, and ache. I will probably workout hard tonight. My frustration and sadness can't be solved by that, but otherwise I might fall back into bad habits, and I do not want to do that again. Alright. Back to class. 

Be Still and Know that I'm Still Human

I hope I don't seem fake or flakey when I say that my mind is changing from certainty in my uncertainty. Yes, I still admit I am uncertain about many things, but I realized yesterday that I do believe in the person of Jesus. When I found myself in a Twitter "war" between people debating on an interpretation of Jesus' actions (or lack of actions) in dealing with those who were needy, I realized what I hate so much about religion and the baggage I grew up into. I realized that I was trying to convince someone that they were wrong in their interpretation, but I realized why I was (not very hard but kind of) trying to prove them wrong. They weren't passionate about the greater good of all people, but they proclaimed an ideology that spoke to me as selfish and self-concerned, and convenient. To my bones, to the depths of my soul, and everywhere in between, I want the most good for all peoples.  I am not claiming to be unselfish or not self-centered many, many times, but in times of crisis, I truly want all of us to embrace our diversity and come together to create a stronger unit. Humans are capable of great things.

Another thing I realized is that the Jesus this person on Twitter was depicting was not one I want to follow. No, I don't want to believe or put faith in a feel-good Jesus either, but I do not believe Jesus only cared for "his people." I don't know why the stories say he was on earth for such a short time, or why he only spent time in Israel. But I do know that if Jesus only cared about reaching the Jews, why the hell do I know anything (as a Gentile)? That's because he told his disciples to go meet other people and share their stories and lives. So, people who weren't a part of their inner circle eventually were, which means "their own" were originally not "their own." This person on Twitter was taking everything so literally, and I just can't do that anymore. I don't think the bible is something to take literally, but as a written artifact inspired by people's experience with God. I grew up in a culture where the bible was literal when it was convenient, and it wasn't literal when people didn't want it to be. THAT LITERALLY makes no sense. I refuse to believe in a Jesus like that.

There are two songs right now that restore my "okay-ness" with emotional experiences being considered spiritual. "Human" by OneRepublic, and "Be Still" by the Fray. Here are some of my favorite excerpts:

"He said, "How does it feel to be human

Does some of the best plans you make get ruined?

Do people curse you when flowers ain’t blooming?

How does it feel?"

He said, "How does it feel to be human?

If I could for one day I just might do it

Dance 'til the sun comes up to my music

How does it feel?

How’s it feel?"

"How does it feel to be human?

If I could for one day I just might do it

Dance 'til the sun comes up to my music

How does it feel?

How’s it feel?"" - OneRepublic

"When darkness comes upon you

And colors you with fear and shame

Be still and know that I'm with you

And I will say your name

If terror falls upon your bed

And sleep no longer comes

Remember all the words I said

Be still, be still, and know." - The Fray

Anberlin helped me through dark days and kept me connected to feeling deeply when feelings were all I really had. But now, I've changed because of my experiences. I have learned to balance my feelings with more logic and reasoning. Yet, I am still a deep feeler to the core. I truly miss Anberlin for what it was and still is to me, but I know I needed to reach out and grow from that stem and find meaning in other things, too. It isn't that I didn't have some connectivity to other music, I think this just gives me a mind that recognizes Anberlin wasn't all there was that influenced and helped me. I remember The Fray performing "Be Still" at the State Fair concert, and it affected me so deeply. I've built new playlists filled with bands I never listened to before, and 

just know like two songs from (with many of them) and it's amazing. Because of my willingness to go see Anberlin alone has led me to many amazing concert experiences that I might have been too shy to go alone to. I needed Anberlin when it was, and just as the band grew out of itself, I am growing out of that old me. 

I've enjoyed The Fray and OneRepublic for many years. I liked The Fray a LOT, before I even really listened to Anberlin intently. There is a part of me that wishes I could create music and share it with others who need something to hit their hearts just like I needed these three songs over the last few months. Today, I feel the most connected to myself than I have in a very long while. I don't credit that to just these three songs because a huge part is my persistence to still do things even when I didn't care. 

Well, if I do get to be inked this year, I already know that it's going to pertain to one (or all) of those songs.

Express Love

Remember when we were kids and the world spun slowly and everything in life was so confined into things we understood? Back when our favorite singers were considered rock-n-roll and "questionable," and they weren't the sellouts they are now. Nostalgia has crept into my mind tonight. When the veil comes off and the bath water is thrown out, I'm fighting a hard battle within me to not just walk away. 

There comes a time in everyone's life where we have to decide what we believe. Some of us gloss over the "why" and just open-arm accept what we've been told without investigating. For the people before me, and the people before them, there were those who stepped away from the continuous cycle of rituals and nonsensical rules. I am the child of those who stood against the legalism of their day. But it's time for me to walk away from theirs. This is nothing new. "Mine is not a new story." Youth are so impressionable and I think adults waste it on brainwashing children into their ideologies. Once the kid grows up and realizes that the world is much more vast, diverse, and beautiful than she/he was told, it's overwhelming. 

The saddest truth I've ever witnessed is that "people of God" are the meanest human beings. Religious people in this culture tend to hold so tightly to their way of life, and throw stones at those who disagree. The most kindness I've been shown and the most vile of wounds I've been given have been from people who identify as Christians. But it all circles back to what really drives someone. I think the desire for certainty and comfortability is the crutch too many religious people (and maybe people in general) lean upon. 

What is this fear that consumes parents when a child rejects their "morals" or "beliefs?" It's the fear that the child is walking away from their way of life, but it isn't enough to just let the child be different. They could push and shove, and throw their interpretations at the child, and this only breaks and destroys the ties they should've built. Differences are what makes humans so beautiful and insane. It's more important for me to equally love and encourage my friends who are legalistic and way too religious and my friends who aren't religious at all. I don't belong in these roles, in these boxes, in these restraints.

If God exists, and if he has communicated to us, and if he did come here to live with us for a time, and if he really does love us, he is TOO DAMN BIG and TOO IMPORTANT for me to judge the beautiful and insane people I meet. I will fail and I will be a jerk, but I am determined to try and just root for people. Confront the harmful things, acknowledge and praise the accomplishments, encourage the happiness, share the joy, express the love, and enjoy the company. What is my life but a moment in the vast history of the universe? Why do I want to impress people who's opinions and life choices or beliefs I don't even agree with? If my family can't love me when they slowly realize I think very differently from them, that's on them. I have fought through this and will continue to do so, but also stand up for truth and love. I am not morally responsible for anyone but myself. 

I am sick of seeing how inauthentic people are. I am sick of the obsession of patriotism Christianity. I am nothing. I am me. I am just human. The universe is too big for me to label myself to something so small. I have felt deeper connections with people at the Anberlin concerts than any person at church. Our aura and our joy permeate the showroom and overwhelm our hearts. We are one, and we sing and move like one entity. There is more to living than just religion and the past. There is more to love, joy, happiness, and humanity than this.

Hold Me Down

I could lie down right now and be fine to go to sleep. Daylight Savings is an interesting concept. However, just yesterday at this time, it was 9:30, and I was doing yoga. I guess this time yesterday I was tired already, and I really could afford to be doing a yoga session right now, but my brain just wants to vegetate. I finally completed my extensive content analysis on How I Met Your Mother season two. After watching that one season over and over again, I wanted to watch the other seasons. Though I skipped season one, I've continued to watch through the others. It's like I know the characters deeply now after studying them in season two. Okay, I promise I didn't come here to just talk about my project when I finally finished and turned it in.

There is something so interesting about where I'm at right now. I've been on spring break the last week and still am out of class until this Friday. I spent the break finishing a project, the one I mentioned, and have met up with various people. I also went to see Bad Suns and From Indian Lakes in concert. That was pretty great. Like in my previous post, I have had several conversations with Erica in depth about where I'm at. I guess I've publicly posted here exactly what I think and feel about a lot. However, I've realized, after intense conversations with different people, that I am trying to separate republicanism and patriotism from christianity. I know I should probably discuss exactly what I mean, and I promise I will. Just not tonight.

Tonight, I want to admit that I am growing and my certainty that I don't believe in God anymore has turned to uncertainty once again. I don't know if I don't believe in God. I don't know if I don't trust him. I know that I don't trust the God I was taught about, I don't believe in the rules that have been laid down in front of me, I don't believe the cultural customs of the Bible times translate over into now, and I'm sure I could go on with what I don't believe. Life is so much more in gray when it comes to how to live than most people think. There are so many ways to interpret everything. It was so refreshing to just pour my heart out to someone who is much older than me, experienced more life than me, and is honestly more charismatic than I am (and definitely more than my parents). Though I am a skeptic about spiritual experiences, I don't believe my friend April is lying to me about what she believes she's encountered. Physical ailments being healed by her God communicating through another person to her about it, when that person had no idea she was injured... That's cooler and more believable than when my friend Jackie said he's spoken to her. More people could attest to April's injury than anyone could say Jackie's experience was real. She was completely alone.

Yes, I am still a skeptic. No, I don't have any connectivity in my heart or spirit that I used to think I had. But April did encourage me to research and look into depression medication. She believed that if she ever had a spell again, she would definitely get on anti-depressants. So, this last week would've been an opportune time to get checked and assessed, but honestly I've been working so hard to meet up with friends I could, and also finish this project. I do want to heal and function better. I am open to finding God. I just really, really hope he isn't the one strictly coming from the bible, as a literal interpretation. It's funny how the christians in my parents circle might say people exclude parts of the bible for their convenience, but they do the exact same thing. Why don't women wear coverings over their head at church? Why don't they use real wine for "passover?" How come women stand up and speak anything in front of the church? Why are christians still obsessed with circumcising their sons? Why do any women ever wear jewelry or fancy hairdos? Why is anyone getting married when, according to Paul, it's better to be single? You know, there is actually a verse in the bible that encourages couples to get married if they can't keep it in their pants.

No wonder a ridiculous amount of students from my school getting married at 19. They've done everything but have sex, and don't want to "lose their virginity" before marriage, so they get married way too soon. And then they realize, wow we only married so we could "lawfully" have sex, but they actually hate each other and probably are terrible at sex. (hahahah okay that isn't relevant but you get my point). They pick and choose which customs to keep and which to disregard, and of course then they tie it into their freakin' politic beliefs. Well, the only way you can be a real christian is if you are supporting this political party, and are obsessed with America being "the shiny city on a hill." Check me out of this asylum. I don't belong here. Sure. I am grateful I don't live somewhere else in poverty, but the obsession with America being this new Israel/Jerusalem is freaky. Why else are we so obsessed with taking care of Israel? Do we deep down think God will give us credit for helping them? Do we think we then transfer the label of God's people from them to us because we've paid our dues? Why are we still so focused on do's and don'ts while pretending we aren't legalistic like the people who won't let their daughters wear jeans or listen to rock-n-roll?

I need to quit while I'm ahead. I said I would explain what I meant later, but I guess I've revealed some of my processing and frustrations. My intention isn't to offend anyone, though I know what I think and what I've said is definitely offensive to most christians. They love to be offended, as does anyone on Facebook.

ugh.

Destiny

The feeling that we had a deeper connection was weak when I sat across from my cousin and told her I don't believe in God anymore. After I vented out some of my thoughts, I realized I didn't intend to tell her them at all. Her responses weren't critical, accusatory, or much opposition. She asked if I wanted feedback, argument, or her thoughts. I realized what I had done and what I had said. Is authenticity so important that I had to cut that connection? Christians believe "unbelievers" cannot love deeply, and that is a lie. I love much more deeply than I ever have as I've taken steps back from what I once called "faith." If only differences weren't viewed so negatively... "I wish you could just be a Christian and be happy," She said to me. My mind isn't wanting to just be happy.

There is a deep experience of "God" that religious people have. I'm not the only one who noticed when mine was completely gone. The author of "Finding God in the Waves" acknowledged the difference for him. He explained this experience being like drugs but without the crash. He's right. A spiritual high seems so real - it makes God seem so real. When our minds are disengaged to the noise, that's when people experience "God." People saw more ghosts when there was less technology, less distractions. So, when we put aside our tech and our food or whatever, and focus on meditation and prayer and a simple text, then of course we will have to experience something. Our minds play tricks on us when they aren't engaged enough. Our minds will make us think there is something in the corner of our room when lights from outside flicker against the trees and the trees' shadows come into the bedroom. We aren't thinking logically though. We're so focused on that darker shadow in the darkness. If we wake up with sleep paralysis, then all of a sudden those dark shadows become an evil presence when there is no evil there.

Is happiness just doing and being what makes others comfortable? Is the point of my life to make others be satisfied that I am living as they want or doing what they want? I cannot just go back and make Christianity make sense to me. Once I've seen something, my eyes can't unsee it. Once I've discovered a question and haven't found an answer that makes sense, I can't forget it. My cousin wants me to be happy being what she thinks I should be. Christianity hurt me deeply. Being raised with Baptist doctrine and bible thumping parents who demand that the bible is inerrant has hurt me. I don't think I should have to clarify that I love my parents, but in case I need to, I love my parents. But they are just as blind as "liberals." I'm talked at just as much as I talk at them, if not more. I'm told to respect a position held by a disrespectful man, yet in that same breath they are disrespectful to a man who had held that same position. So, I should not speak ill of someone they voted for because that's wrong and disrespectful, but they can speak ill of someone they didn't vote for and that's fine. I don't mean to sound hateful. I'm hurting. I'm hurting over the hypocrisy, the blindness, the box, the conformity, the dogmacy... I'm hurting that my father is a better dad than my parents' creator of the universe. I'm hurt deeply because my father has failed my mom in ways, and he has failed me, yet he appears to be better than a "perfect" God. Though I am hurting over what my parents have taught me that has caused me to be so fucked up in the head, I am hurting more that I am disconnected from my family from now on.

It's not easy to be where I'm at. Did my morals and love simply vanish? No. I am me to the core. My love of philosophy and wanting to understand the world is still there. My love of people and wanting to be authentic is still there. I just don't care about our belief differences, our lifestyle differences, and our love differences. Be kind and be love. Tough love is such a joke. If love is kind, why has God been so unkind? Why does he get the excuse of being able to say "yes, no, maybe" to every prayer? And honestly, I could be more careful about typing all these thoughts out because someone could come across them and publish it for the world to see. Part of me doesn't care. I know that it could cause a deep rift. I know I still have suppressed feelings and can't fully feel things that maybe I should. But God is gone. My family believes in a being that is either indifferent, a sociopath, or not real.  I don't know what is real anymore. I'm not really sure of too much. I just know what I can't be, and what doesn't make sense to me anymore 

Run Carefree

"I think, therefore I am."
The only way I know I am going to move forward is because I keep deciding to do so. There have been several occurrences this week that have completely bogged me down and caused my heart to seep low into my chest. My spirit is still heavy, sorting through the mess I don't want to fall into. I have been so insistent on ignoring the doubts that scream "failure is all that will come." In the midst of this uncertainty, I have found certainty in unexpected things. What's amazing is that when something seemingly serendipitous occurs, I'm not just crediting a God for a "miracle." I'm crediting the humans around me for providing help, and myself for pushing the boundaries and humbling myself.

Even though I know this school as a whole isn't the best place for the person I am in my beliefs and thoughts, there are individual people here who, without their influence or presence in my life, I would be aching to get through this time. My indifference to people here has shifted and I do care again, and I am glad that some of those feelings and emotional responses have returned. These last two years of school have been fucking exhausting and painful, but I didn't suffer completely alone. Depression is a lonely battle, but I did find my people here, and I have found safety amidst judgmental and small minded people. I think that once I started realizing I'm in control of creating my own positive mindset, my own happiness, and my own success, I've started dealing with life better and dealing with hardship better. I had my first meltdown in months yesterday, but it actually made sense to have it occur, so I let myself cry it out. I lost my financial help as far as I know. So, I went to the business office and financial aid office at school and was able to get more money from the government. I had to humble myself and beg. I wouldn't have been able to get more aid if my help hadn't fallen through. And honestly, that means that if I get help in the end, it will be lesser amount needed now.

Well, I have to get back to working on homework and projects. I know that no one but me really reads this, but I want to be faithful to the Hannah that started this blog. I can't believe I started it almost 6 years ago. We've come a long, long way. 

Yeah, This Is Real

I'm halfway through February and you know what that means? I will be a college graduate, and in Austria, in 3 months. I know I couldn't seem to not update last month (already only like 5 updates but that's a lot considering I hadn't done it that much last year) and now February is whizzing by and this is my first post. Honestly, I'm surprised, too. Yes, I am still working through a lot of questions and changes, and yes, school is stress galore along with trying to do insurance class online and work. But I am happy. There are things in life that will never be solved, never be sorted, and people I will never please or make like me, and I am happy - as happy as a girl could be in my situation in life. I don't need to live in fear of who won't approve of me because I need to live with myself at the end of the day. Here I am, in a place in life, where I wouldn't want to be anyone else but me. That's huge progress.

When I was re-reading some of my old entries and thoughts on here or in journals, I realized my journey to where I am at right now is really not that far off from where I was then. Okay, maybe it is further off, but it has been directed from the same path, if you get what I mean. The thoughts that were being implanted in my head, the questions that started arising, the wondering and aching for something better and something more real - those things were all happening to me slowly over the last two years, and then more intensely last summer. Obviously, when that severe depression hit - though I know I was working through depression in general then, it just got worse - I was left to really deal with those thoughts without any sugarcoating, without any fluff, and without any feelings. When I see what I was going through by how I described it, I know how strong I am. I know I share a lot of things with people nowadays because I have close friends, but I can still see that I hold back so much.

One thing I never did before was make light of my feelings, where I'm at in life or in my thoughts, and make self-deprecating jokes. But I believe, through my friendship with my roommate Emily, I have been able to not be so serious and to try to find light and freedom in those things. Of course, since I didn't have emotions for a while, all I had was to make light of my situation because I didn't want anyone feeling anything for me. It would've been wasted on me. For example, the time my counselor cried when I described my emotionless state and the wonders I had if my family would love me if they knew I don't believe anything anymore. The only thing I could feel was discomfort or awkwardness because I didn't know what to do. Don't worry. We both know my emotions have slowly rolled back in, but not all of them and not to the intense way they were. I'm glad about that.

I recently listened again to the song "Science and Faith" by the Script. One of the lyrics caused me to think and reflect a bit: "You won't find faith or hope down a telescope. You won't find heart and soul in the stars. You can break everything down to chemicals, but you can't explain a love like ours." And I just thought, what if? What if I can't logic the crap out of faith and it is just an abstract idea, that holds more feeling than logical reasoning? I don't want to just "accept it" or "deal with it." Emily is going to let me borrow a book written by a science that talks about his journey through deconstructing his faith and then rebuilding it, while being able to claim his scientific energy and mindset. 

Drop It

On Saturday, I posted a status about what happiness meant to me and what it looked like. Don't worry about what negative people think of you. Why is it that the one bad comment outweighs all the good ones in our minds? I dealt with some very hurtful, negative people this morning, and I chose to walk away from the situation instead of adding to the heat. Sometimes confrontation is necessary, when you actually know the person(s) who are being unfair or rude. Today, I have had to fight through reminding myself who I am, not who people want to believe I am. I drove away, crying and then asking myself why I was crying. "What's wrong, Hannah?" "They said these things about me." "Do you care what they think?" "But they're this person I care about's friends." "Does your identity rest on his opinion?" "No." "So, why are you crying?" "Because I care about him and don't want to be misrepresented." And that's how I learned what I was really upset about. I have taught myself to talk through why I am upset or about to cry, so that I am not doing it just to feel sad. I read somewhere that we feel new things every 30 seconds. In order to continue to dislike someone, or feel sad, we have to keep choosing those feelings.

Have you ever stopped being mad about something, but then remember your past frustration and suddenly you tell yourself it should still bother you? I hope that's a common thing because it used to happen to me all the time. I don't want to hate on these people who were judging me, looking for reasons to dislike me, so I won't choose to hate. This caused me to realize some problems within myself. I have had this judgmental attitude toward some girls at my school for seeming to be fake, but I don't know them deeply. I almost immediately thought of them on my drive, and I just thought, "what the hell, Hannah?" I can't think this way, I can't be this way. I need to be understanding that just because they operate differently from me, that doesn't mean their efforts and lifestyle isn't done in an authentic way. Some people really are fake and just want to be miserable, and make others feel miserable. But why hold on to ONE non-ideal experience with a person you don't know?

I never want to be well-known or famous because people are so mean. They will hate you just for existing. That to me is so very sad, but gives me a small glimpse on what it's like to be in a minority. They exist, they are different, and so bitches hate them. That reality is so screwed up, and I wish I could change that. I wish I could just somehow let these hurtful people see that they are hurting, and need to open up their eyes to what's around them. There is so much we don't know about the people we interact with, so much we don't understand. I get looked at and seen as stuck up when just two months ago I couldn't find a reason to live. I get looked at and seen as full of myself when just a year ago, I asked God to kill me because I believed I was the most vile thing to walk the earth. I don't know their story, I don't know why they want to believe negative things about me, I don't know why they thrive off gossip, but I am sure it's rooted in hurt and pain that they haven't faced. Hell, they could read this post and think I'm being hateful, and that's just how it goes. When someone wants to believe something bad about another person, everything that person does becomes bad. I learned that last year.

Why live life wanting to hold on to things that should just cease to exist? Why shape our self-image around what bullies think? Bullies are just people who feel alone deep down anyway. They aren't very different from you. Do you ever wish you weren't so knowledgable about something? Once you know something, you can't unknown it. I'd open people's eyes up if I could, but they just don't want to see.

Remember when Galadriel tells Frodo that "To bear a ring of power is to be alone"? Maybe to have an educated mind and open heart actually means to be alone while living out that life.

Hopefully

For the first time in months or maybe years, I have happiness. I know there is no guarantee that this happiness will last forever. I know there are risks in love. My mentality right now is to stop focusing on the chaos and the fear, but to truly pursue the good and the helpful and the healthy. I'm not magically an optimist, but I'm a realist. Realistically, anything can fall apart. But I won't look for problems with him, I won't focus on anything to be jealous of, I won't worry about it he'll open up to me or not. It is so important to just enjoy life, enjoy the moment, enjoy the little things. I am disappointed in myself for the years that I abused myself, emotionally and mentally and sometimes physically. But I won't spend this time sitting here and being angry about past Hannah. I just recognize that I have to continue this journey towards truly taking care of my mind and heart.

Anything can happen. But my emotions were once gone and I thought maybe they would never come back. I don't have to fake pleasure, interest, laughter, smiles, or enjoyment with him. I don't have a heaviness or sadness in my chest during any point while we spend time together. Maybe it's because my standards or expectations for myself and him aren't quite so rigid. Maybe it's because he is truly fantastical and his sweetness is just what I've needed. I know that at the beginning of a romance, there are risks and dangers. I don't want to rush emotions and words and make this becoming overwhelming for either of us. But I'm not afraid at the same time. I might not have fear because I don't have all of my emotions or because I'm truly confident I'll be okay no matter what.

But my heart is in the right place. He should be treated with respect, tenderness, thoughtfulness, kindness, sincerity, and trust. I want to give him something honest and authentic, and real. I want to give myself that. This happiness might not last forever, and he and I may never last past this month, but I have felt something purely good once again. That is something worth smiling about. 

Every Fire Starts with a Spark

Before I get started on the homework I need to, I want to lay out my thoughts and feelings right now. I know that I've been posting a lot on here lately. I cannot predict my own behavior, or even explain what is drawing me to document my thoughts. I want to remember how I feel because I don't know how long it will last, and I also know it is the most pure thing I've experienced in so very long.

Right now, I'm in a small town that's so trusting, homey, and welcoming that there are bikes parked right outside the coffee shop I'm in that aren't even chained up to anything. The owners are probably positioned somewhere in the shop so they can keep their eye on the bikes, but there is nothing truly protecting the bikes from possible thievery. The reality strikes me as weird. But isn't that what my heart should be like? I should set it out there, in the open and unlocked, trusting that no one will steal it and that the true owner will retrieve it when it's time. That may be a shaky metaphor, but it did come to mind. You're welcome.

I also realize that I am taking up the table that is set for four people, while there are couples at tables for one or two. I like my space I suppose. But please Hannah, just remember what it is like in this moment that I am living. I'm listening to "discover" from Spotify, I've been editing photos, and sipping on a mocha for the past two hours or so. Inside of my chest, I can feel it's light state. Through my first experience of pure happiness in years to the heuristic yoga, I am at ease.

The most strange thing I just thought about as that through the years that I've always felt my emotions and experiences so intensely, one of the most incredible feelings I've had has been in the midst of my state of numbness. Isn't that life though? My reaction to the wonderful kiss and electric pulse through my spine into my heart was to thank Jesus. I don't know if that was because it was habit for me or because I truly believe he had a hand in that happening to me. I'm open to that, truly.

Yesterday in my Organizational Behavior class, we did an exercise that taught us there are so many ways to accomplish the same goal. When we realized we could stretch our boundaries and push our ideas, we were faster and more efficient to get to our end goal. What if my beliefs need to be evaluated this same way? The end goal or core belief is have a friendship with Jesus and accept his authority as savior. What if that end goal doesn't include the way I was taught this? I don't have to sing worship songs because I was raised churches that did. I don't have to read my bible daily just because my parents told me I should. I don't have to dress a certain way or not dress a certain way because my mom said I had to. What if I just look for the most efficient way for me to get to the end result, and that's how I live my life?  If there are many ways to do the same job, and a faster way equals the same worth as a slower way, why does it matter if I follow or don't follow someone else's construction of how to get close to Jesus? I should be able to live with the end result that I come to, not them.

I might finally be getting somewhere.

Pick It All Up and Start Again

The last time I felt spark was 3 and a half years ago. There are different loves a person can experience in life, and some people only experience one love. I have felt and held a few. There were loves that ached me so deeply, loves I couldn't touch, and loves I had for a short bit but had to let go of. The strange thing about where my mind has been for so long is that I didn't realize I wasn't fully feeling good things anymore. Because I have grown accustomed to this now, I assume I don't have that feeling or cannot due to depression. I thought that, in the back of my mind, maybe I never would experience butterflies or crazy things. I would feel afraid about that, but I cannot feel much.

I couldn't, until last night that is.

When it comes to describing happiness, I am terrible. I will try my best because he deserves that. The different people I've met and dated, either casually or more "seriously," tend to not be in the same place I am in life. Many times I forced intimacy because I hoped that it would somehow just make that relationship work. Through this experience of being numb, sometimes something would turn me on for a little while but immediately just disinterest me. My brain wouldn't being disgusted but it wouldn't be turned on or engaged thoroughly. I cannot remember the last time my brain and heart clicked, especially since the long season of depression has cast this dark shadow on how I see things.

At first, there was nervous chatter and small talk. The reason wasn't because I didn't know what to talk about, but because I was actually nervous. When I first saw him, my heart wasn't pounding and I experienced nothing intense. I wouldn't expect myself to experience that because of where my mind has been, but I definitely could SENSE something. The way he talks to me is what I enjoy the most. He says he is simple and chill, and I agree, but not for the reason he would probably state. He's simple in the sense that he seeks to simplify things and keep things down to earth. He's chill because he's relaxed, a homebody, and can enjoy his own company. But he has more depth than just being chill and down to earth.

Other people have listened to what I think and they don't know how to respond, can't relate, feel intimidated, and pull away. Our conversation went into more personal depths, and I was forthcoming about where my mind has been the last few months. He didn't just stay quiet, but provided some feedback, understanding, or agreement. When I was confessing my stupid fear of my parents not loving me anymore once they know I have stepped away from their fait,. he asked me more questions about my relationship with them. Then he told me he truly believed my parents would love me no matter what. Instead of telling me, screw what your parents think, or you have to be your own person and they have to get over it, he was kind and encouraging.

Today is his birthday and I was able to be the first to wish him a happy birthday. He drove 2.5 hours just to see me for 6 hours. No person has ever done that before. A five hour drive, there and back, to see me for just a little longer than he was in his car. I'd do that for someone. I have done that for someone. But he's the first to do that for me. I want to show that kind of consideration, care, and thoughtfulness toward him, I couldn't help but just look at him, and study his features and face. I want to keep making him smile because his dimples give me flutters in my stomach. He even said, my face hurts from smiling so much. I tried to tell him that if he was a fruit, he'd be a fine-apple, but I botched it. We laughed. When I would look at him, he told me it made him nervous and feel things, and it was like I was gazing into his soul. I said I probably was.

When I hugged him at the end of our date, I noticed he's the perfect height for me to rest my head on his chest. I had the thought in my mind, when I had just looked at him while we sat in my car talking, that I just wanted him to kiss me, but I shook that thought. But there I stood hugging him until he pulled back. So, I looked up at him. Before I could think "What's happening" he kissed me, ever so softly. He continued to kiss me, but instead of making them deep kisses, he would part my lips with his and give a gentle kiss, pull back, and repeat. He broke the kiss to say, is that what you were waiting for? My face just felt heat, and I said, yes, and smiled. He began to kiss me again, the same sweet, tender kisses, while we both smiled. Suddenly, I felt this chill run from my back, up to my neck, and into my lips.

I got to my room, and I started laughing, then crying, and crying hard. My heart felt happiness, and my heart felt joy. I finally felt happiness, and it was intense. It wasn't a sliver, it wasn't a taste, but it was pure and it was real. It is real. I shutter over replaying last night in my head. I felt spark. My experience of the happiness emotion was the most overwhelming thing I've experienced since my depression took me by surprise. 

Smile More

Why has it been so long since I've written a positive message? Consistently, my blog posts here have been focused around me processing negative energies, or discussing hurtful things. I know I tend to write out those thoughts and feelings because they are the majority, and writing them sometimes is like writing them out of my body. Every time I try to write out something else, the subject returns back to my mental state. So, I will try to push past the natural drift and write something else.

On Tuesday, I met someone with deep dimples and an easy smile. The scenario would be more romantic if we had met just through friends. but we met online first. A lot of my close friends or people I care deeply about have been my online friends. I don't have anything against meeting online. In one of his pictures, he was with my friend's boyfriend, and that's one reason I wanted to get to know him. If he's friends with my friend, then I could judge his character based off that. Plus, I really don't see this friend very often, and figured it would give me an opportunity to see her. 

The first sign of an interesting person is the plans they make with you the first time you are going to hang out. He invited me to hangout with him, my friend, and her boyfriend at a bar that has retro games. I definitely need to go back to that bar because the games are free, and buying a drink is optional. He and I played several games against each other, and I beat him in all of them except one. That's the funny part - I had never played most of those games and he had. He wasn't a sore loser though. He would laugh or smile, which I liked because of his dimples. 

Sometimes meeting online can hinder communication in person. Texting or messaging can be easier for some people, and talking in person takes a bit more time. I know, at first, I can be a bit anxious and nervous in first meeting someone, but then I can relax. I know that the mental state I'm in, and not feeling all my emotions, has affected the way I deal with communication. I didn't have any uncomfortable feelings that he and I didn't talk in depth, because I know realistically it wasn't necessary for the first time hanging out. I was also catching up with my friend who I hadn't seen in 9 months. 

The first sign of an interested person is the effort they make to see you again. My co-worker Greg said to me back in August that I needed to stop trying to make myself be a part of a guy's world. A guy who is truly interested will go to great lengths to see the girl he likes. Distance won't be a problem for him. And that the guy should make the effort this time. Okay. I'm not against me making effort. I put in time and energy because that's how I show interest/love. (I don't mean romantic love, just love in the broad sense.) I want to drive an hour to see someone because 1. I like long drives, 2. That person means a lot to me. I drove an hour to see my good friend B for our girls night, and drove an hour back. Totally worth it. All I care about is that the person makes equal effort back in either sacrificing the distance, or by doing other special things that show me they care. 

I would be afraid that I'll never feel intense, deep feelings again if I had the emotions to. or maybe I wouldn't. I can't really say. I do want to experience that again for someone, but I mostly want to laugh and trust that we'll work through things. If I can have friendships like the one with B, and we've not had any major problems with each other, I am certain there is a male that I can have this type of relationship with. I won't be all weird and hopeful that THIS is the guy, you know? But I will treat this person well. It could be I'll never be satisfied, and if that's who I am, I've learned to accept me. I'm sure that if I don't want to be that way, I'll find a way to reshape my mindset. 

There is a mild level of excitement in my chest to see how this will expand and happen. He wants to visit me when I'm back at school even though it's a two and half hour drive. All he said to that was, I like long drives for the music. That made me smile. 

New Year, but I was Already a New Me

I've already fixed a few "16's" on dates, but the new year is only a few days in. Sometimes the mistakes I make can be corrected, but their so obviously scribbled over, and there's no way to hide them. I saved my reflection post or blog entry for today, but not today specifically. Most people, when they look at me, will still see the me they believe I am. For those who don't know more of who I am, but think they do, I've left them in the dark for reasons. Don't worry. I won't keep being so vague. Oh, that promise is for this post, not in general. I don't think my preference of ambiguity will truly go away, but I won't say "never" because I didn't think I'd be functioning the way I am at all. I mean that literally. I never imagined I'd be who I am on the inside.

Nostalgia is a problem. Seriously, it doesn't really help me to look back at old photos so often, but at the same time I truly love those memories. I am glad I pushed myself through some of those memories, and I am glad I didn't photograph the shit out of some of them so I could hold them preciously just in my mind and heart. I don't know where I'll be in a month, but when I landed here just a few months ago, it was a slow process that seemed so suddenly just because my depression took away my emotions. Maybe I should just say my mind did it. I know others have been through worse trauma, but the last year and a half were very hard. I won't say that last year was a terrible year because I became a better me. I know that different people I know would say, if they knew where I am at in my head, that I am not a better me. I don't care. The Hannah that exists today, right now, in 2017, is the strongest, bravest, and realest Hannah there's ever been. The other Hannahs didn't make it to this year. I did.

Sometimes I think about my past selves as different people. In reality, they're all different versions of me, but they don't seem like me anymore. One reason I like looking at pictures, or reading old entries, and old poems, is because I want to see who I was. I'd send my voice back in time to other me's and tell them we made it, and we're okay. I am so sorry to past me for being a bully and hurting myself, and not trying to see what potential I had. I won't wish to go back because I don't want to. I'd be tempted to change something, and I know I shouldn't. The parts of me that are dead and gone should just stay that way now. If God exists, he can change that if he cares. But I've been the one to get myself through everything I've faced. I chose my path that led me to others who have helped me.

I didn't write this on my resolutions list for this year, but I know I want to be more real with people. The hardest confession will be that I don't trust God anymore. I believe he exists. Well, I believe a higher being exists, definitely. But I don't trust in the God that I was told I had to. I have a lot of anger and hurt in that area, and I know I need to face it. I want space to face it. I want to be upfront with my family and tell them that their faith isn't for me right now, and that I need to learn this and find God on my own. I don't want preaching at me, I don't want discipleship, and I don't need condemnation. I just need space. I want to breathe and learn things on my own. I've already pursued that before, by studying the bible and discussing it with close friends, and reading books by theologians. It's not like God wasn't working for me and I said, see ya I want benefits. No. God is supposed to send us his spirit, and he went cold, and hid himself from me. If I ever really felt God anyway. I'm tired of being told all these rules and ways to live that are truly preference of my family, but they've engrained it into their brains that it is "of the bible" because it's their prefered translation.

Forgive me. I don't mean to sound hateful and angry at them. I do have hurts there, but I just want freedom from this binding belief system. They say you find freedom in Christ, but I found let down and chains. I have a mental disease partly because of this belief system. I want my own. I don't know what it will look like, but I want the space to decide that. Part of this is also because I just want to dress how I want to dress, I want to date who I date, I want to write what I write, and I want to find a God that actually cares about me, that I don't have to convince myself I'm experiencing. I won't ask for anything huge, but Jesus, if you want me, come to me. That's all I have to say about it.

This change, my thoughts on beliefs and religion and myself, has been gradual and not sudden. But I think it slowly creeped up on me that once it was here, it took me by surprise. But I am free. I am free and I can still be real, and honest, and be love. I will thrive because I am deciding that is who I will become. My determination pushes me forward, and I haven't left myself room to give up. My thoughts change, and I don't let my emotions control everything. I still have depression and I still have anxiety, but I realized that, and it cannot blindside me again.