Sometimes, all you really need in life is to go to mass and receive the Eucharist.
I swear, some days, it's the only thing that keeps me going.
Praise be to God for His wonderful Christmas gift to the human race.
12/25/2011
12/24/2011
Come On, Skinny Love.
I'm waiting to go to midnight mass, and I feel really odd.
There are times in my life I feel so completely alone. Tonight is one of those times even though I know there are people who love and care for me, Earthly and Heavenly.
My family couldn't do anything for Christmas Eve, but I'll see them tomorrow. Mainly, my brothers are either working or spending time with their girlfriends. My roommate is with her family. My friends are with their families or boyfriend's or girlfriend's families or spending time with their brand new babies.
And I. am. here. alone.
And I can't help but think about Heathcliff. This will be my first Christmas in three years, my first Christmas since being Catholic that he will not be sitting beside me. Out of morbid curiosity, I looked up his blog. All he writes about is other girls. He doesn't miss me. He doesn't miss me at all. I know I'm ripping off scabs, pulling out sutures, and pouring salt in the wounds, but I needed to know. I needed to see it. So I can do all that crap where I tell myself I'm strong, I'm fine, I'm okay. Fake it till I make it. And most days, I'm good. But there are moments. Because when I get that tinge of sadness thinking I miss him every now and then, I can remind myself, he sure as hell doesn't miss me, and he checked out for the last year and a half of the relationship. He's not sitting around pining away over me; I shouldn't be doing the same.
Combine this with the fact that I had to go to Starkville to visit a friend and her new baby, and everywhere I went in town was filled with nothing but memories of him, and I guess the scenery just dredged up latent, unconscious feelings. Out of sight, out of mind. I must remember that.
I think he was the first boy I ever really knew how to love. And I think it was always so easy to move on with other boys because I didn't love them like I loved him.
I guess I'm just sad, and it's an authentic sad (not apathetic, depression sad).
It feels like I'm still grieving losing someone I really loved. And I guess that's what I'm still doing. I think that's one of the reasons why I haven't been able to move on from Columbus yet.
So I'm going to go midnight mass, probably a little sad. I might tear up a bit because I'll be by myself. No friends, no family, no boyfriend. But I will be ok because I will be given the best gift one could be given at Christmas: Baby Jesus, the Eucharist, the one who gives us hope.
And that's all I need for the new year - hope.
There are times in my life I feel so completely alone. Tonight is one of those times even though I know there are people who love and care for me, Earthly and Heavenly.
My family couldn't do anything for Christmas Eve, but I'll see them tomorrow. Mainly, my brothers are either working or spending time with their girlfriends. My roommate is with her family. My friends are with their families or boyfriend's or girlfriend's families or spending time with their brand new babies.
And I. am. here. alone.
And I can't help but think about Heathcliff. This will be my first Christmas in three years, my first Christmas since being Catholic that he will not be sitting beside me. Out of morbid curiosity, I looked up his blog. All he writes about is other girls. He doesn't miss me. He doesn't miss me at all. I know I'm ripping off scabs, pulling out sutures, and pouring salt in the wounds, but I needed to know. I needed to see it. So I can do all that crap where I tell myself I'm strong, I'm fine, I'm okay. Fake it till I make it. And most days, I'm good. But there are moments. Because when I get that tinge of sadness thinking I miss him every now and then, I can remind myself, he sure as hell doesn't miss me, and he checked out for the last year and a half of the relationship. He's not sitting around pining away over me; I shouldn't be doing the same.
Combine this with the fact that I had to go to Starkville to visit a friend and her new baby, and everywhere I went in town was filled with nothing but memories of him, and I guess the scenery just dredged up latent, unconscious feelings. Out of sight, out of mind. I must remember that.
I think he was the first boy I ever really knew how to love. And I think it was always so easy to move on with other boys because I didn't love them like I loved him.
I guess I'm just sad, and it's an authentic sad (not apathetic, depression sad).
It feels like I'm still grieving losing someone I really loved. And I guess that's what I'm still doing. I think that's one of the reasons why I haven't been able to move on from Columbus yet.
So I'm going to go midnight mass, probably a little sad. I might tear up a bit because I'll be by myself. No friends, no family, no boyfriend. But I will be ok because I will be given the best gift one could be given at Christmas: Baby Jesus, the Eucharist, the one who gives us hope.
And that's all I need for the new year - hope.
12/15/2011
Progress Report
Lately, people around the internet have been doing a good job of reminding me about one of God's greatest gifts: peace.
I knew when I moved from Starkville to Columbus, I was making the right decision. I was apprehensive, but I was at peace about it. Confident, almost. Excited. Like a little kid holding her breath for the end of the train. Knowing you could make it, but still, not so sure.
And I've loved being here. I really have. I've got a strong feeling of community, learned how to have confidence and a backbone, formed some really strong friendships, become more outgoing, and have had some really good times.
But I can't help but feel this is a place I felt I was put just to learn those things. A transitional place. Kinda like a train station. Just waiting for my next ride to show up.
And I know, I've felt it in my bones for a long time now, that I'm ready to go wherever. But I can't help but still feel Columbus has a few more things to teach me before I can set off in the big, wide world on my own.
A while back, I mentioned I was looking for somewhere bigger, somewhere that would offer me an adventure. And I know I've mentioned several times that I'm going to Ireland for spring break (I'm halfway to my monetary goal). But I feel like that trip would be a test run to really see if I'm ready for my big adventure, and it's one of the many reasons why it's so important that I go.
But I have the same feeling about this next move. I just know in my heart of hearts I'm not meant to be here right now. I think I'll wind back up in Mississippi in the long run, but I'm oddly at peace with the fact that I'll be moving again soon.
Now, if I could just learn to read the same sensations of peace with boys, I'd be doing well for myself. But that's another blog for another night.
I knew when I moved from Starkville to Columbus, I was making the right decision. I was apprehensive, but I was at peace about it. Confident, almost. Excited. Like a little kid holding her breath for the end of the train. Knowing you could make it, but still, not so sure.
And I've loved being here. I really have. I've got a strong feeling of community, learned how to have confidence and a backbone, formed some really strong friendships, become more outgoing, and have had some really good times.
But I can't help but feel this is a place I felt I was put just to learn those things. A transitional place. Kinda like a train station. Just waiting for my next ride to show up.
And I know, I've felt it in my bones for a long time now, that I'm ready to go wherever. But I can't help but still feel Columbus has a few more things to teach me before I can set off in the big, wide world on my own.
A while back, I mentioned I was looking for somewhere bigger, somewhere that would offer me an adventure. And I know I've mentioned several times that I'm going to Ireland for spring break (I'm halfway to my monetary goal). But I feel like that trip would be a test run to really see if I'm ready for my big adventure, and it's one of the many reasons why it's so important that I go.
But I have the same feeling about this next move. I just know in my heart of hearts I'm not meant to be here right now. I think I'll wind back up in Mississippi in the long run, but I'm oddly at peace with the fact that I'll be moving again soon.
Now, if I could just learn to read the same sensations of peace with boys, I'd be doing well for myself. But that's another blog for another night.
12/04/2011
Is It Possible?
Do you think it's possible to find someone over the internet completely haphazardly? Or rather, have someone find you?
Who seems genuinely interested in you.
Who shares a lot of common interests but is different enough to keep it interesting.
Who is smart enough but not so smart that he is socially stunted.
Who is super cute and consistently tells you that you are super cute.
Who lives half a world away but stays up until 2 a.m. his time to have conversations with you.
I've never even heard his voice. We both have indicated we like each other, but we know a sea separates us. He wants me to stop by to say hi and go hang out while I'm in Dublin for spring break. But I'm hesitant. That's an awful long way to go for a boy, and this trip to Dublin is supposed to be about me being okay with me.
I'd feel like an idiot not to go say hi and see what it would be like if we were together in person. He's in England, and I'd literally be an hour away. And it's not like I haven't tried to find someone around here. Every weekend, two nights a week, I'm doing something, putting myself out there, meeting boys, and making friends but there are just no sparks. None.
But him, there's sparks. It's such a peculiar situation.
Is it possible God might use the internet to bring someone into your life? At this point, I'm open for whatever God wants to send my way. But I keep asking myself is this possible?
11/26/2011
11/06/2011
I might be having a quarter life crisis.
Things are changing, again. And drastically.
I don't know if I can accurately explain it to anyone. But I'll certainly try.
For the longest time, my fear was being alone. Alone in life. Alone in death. Before I had cats to sleep in the bed with me, I slept with stuffed animals in my living room on my couch with the television on because it was so painful to go to sleep by myself. Because I would just lie there awake and think, "I'm in this apartment alone. If I died alone, no one would notice for a couple of days, probably. And I'm not even sure there would be someone waiting on me on the other side." Now, I have the reassurance of Christ's love, but at the time, I didn't. I never slept. It was terrifying.
I thought I needed to have it all. And do it by twenty-five. Or else I was a failure. I thought I needed a man, two kids, a house with an SUV, and a flat screen TV, a dog, some cats, an advanced degree, and a prestigious job. The South is really good at putting that idea into your head, the needing a man bit, that is. I can thank my family, though they had the best of intentions, for the rest of it.
I've played by society's rules, done everything right, and I feel like I've turned up empty handed. I've lived for everyone else. I've fulfilled my parents wishes and dreams for me, society's prescribed notions of what a young, ambitious, smart woman should do, but it hasn't made me happy.
This past weekend, I went to a teacher's conference, and as I sat there doodling on the power point slide handout of statistics of education in the state of Mississippi, I felt like I was in high school again. And I realized that I don't give a crap about anything that I was there to learn about. I'm just doing a job to get a check. And that small, little girl's voice came back to me. And I realize, I haven't changed one bit. I've always known who I am, but I just switched it up to please everyone else. I'm such a good, obedient creature, and I just want someone to be proud of me. I'd do anything to get that approval. And when I couldn't or didn't get it from my parents, I'd look to whatever boy I was dating. And I wish I hadn't. Because that small, shy girl from high school, she's still there. Waiting. And now I know, the only person I need to be proud of me is Jesus. He's the only person's approval that I really need. He's the only one I really want to impress.
I'm still young enough that I can make a big move, a big, big change and get away with it. And I'm not attached with a husband or kids or a mortgage, so I'm pretty mobile. And if I had thought about doing this last year at this time, I would have been terrified because I know I have self-esteem issues. But now, after looking at all the things I've done by myself just through hard work and perseverance, I know I can do this on my own, especially now that I have guidance from God and that I have the firm belief that He is backing me. Independent is never a word I would have used to describe myself, but now days, I think it's quite apt.
Sitting there doodling, feeling like I was a kid in high school again, all the dreams I had came flooding back to me. I wanted to write books. I wanted to start a band. I wanted to live in a big city. I wanted to travel the world. I didn't want to go to college. I wanted to backpack across Europe for a year because I was a year ahead of schedule. My parents wouldn't let me though. Moreover, when I was interviewed for the yearbook about what I would be when I grew up, the person automatically assumed I wanted to be a teacher. My response was "Hell, no. You couldn't pay me enough to be a teacher." And now look at me.
I feel like I haven't gotten a steady job because God knows this is not what my heart wants. He knows this is not where I want nor need to be. Heathcliff dumping me was one of the worst things to have ever happened to me. It essentially broke me and my spirit, but I have become so much better off for it. I can't help but wonder if this was God's plan all along. To break me down to build me up to make something more beautiful, more durable, more independent, more confident.
And so I'm taking the first steps. I'm applying for jobs in Nashville, Boston, and New York. I'm planning a spring break trip to Dublin, going all by myself. I'm not worried about getting a boyfriend or getting married anytime soon, or at all even. I'm going to bookstores alone and reading books, even if I get a plethora of questions from the woman in her mid-forties sitting next to me (true story there, folks).
And granted it's still all very scary for me, I'm confident as long as I keep living for Jesus and my Catholic faith, I'll be well-guided, provided for, and loved. And that's really all I need. Anything else is just a bonus.
I don't know if I can accurately explain it to anyone. But I'll certainly try.
For the longest time, my fear was being alone. Alone in life. Alone in death. Before I had cats to sleep in the bed with me, I slept with stuffed animals in my living room on my couch with the television on because it was so painful to go to sleep by myself. Because I would just lie there awake and think, "I'm in this apartment alone. If I died alone, no one would notice for a couple of days, probably. And I'm not even sure there would be someone waiting on me on the other side." Now, I have the reassurance of Christ's love, but at the time, I didn't. I never slept. It was terrifying.
I thought I needed to have it all. And do it by twenty-five. Or else I was a failure. I thought I needed a man, two kids, a house with an SUV, and a flat screen TV, a dog, some cats, an advanced degree, and a prestigious job. The South is really good at putting that idea into your head, the needing a man bit, that is. I can thank my family, though they had the best of intentions, for the rest of it.
I've played by society's rules, done everything right, and I feel like I've turned up empty handed. I've lived for everyone else. I've fulfilled my parents wishes and dreams for me, society's prescribed notions of what a young, ambitious, smart woman should do, but it hasn't made me happy.
This past weekend, I went to a teacher's conference, and as I sat there doodling on the power point slide handout of statistics of education in the state of Mississippi, I felt like I was in high school again. And I realized that I don't give a crap about anything that I was there to learn about. I'm just doing a job to get a check. And that small, little girl's voice came back to me. And I realize, I haven't changed one bit. I've always known who I am, but I just switched it up to please everyone else. I'm such a good, obedient creature, and I just want someone to be proud of me. I'd do anything to get that approval. And when I couldn't or didn't get it from my parents, I'd look to whatever boy I was dating. And I wish I hadn't. Because that small, shy girl from high school, she's still there. Waiting. And now I know, the only person I need to be proud of me is Jesus. He's the only person's approval that I really need. He's the only one I really want to impress.
I'm still young enough that I can make a big move, a big, big change and get away with it. And I'm not attached with a husband or kids or a mortgage, so I'm pretty mobile. And if I had thought about doing this last year at this time, I would have been terrified because I know I have self-esteem issues. But now, after looking at all the things I've done by myself just through hard work and perseverance, I know I can do this on my own, especially now that I have guidance from God and that I have the firm belief that He is backing me. Independent is never a word I would have used to describe myself, but now days, I think it's quite apt.
Sitting there doodling, feeling like I was a kid in high school again, all the dreams I had came flooding back to me. I wanted to write books. I wanted to start a band. I wanted to live in a big city. I wanted to travel the world. I didn't want to go to college. I wanted to backpack across Europe for a year because I was a year ahead of schedule. My parents wouldn't let me though. Moreover, when I was interviewed for the yearbook about what I would be when I grew up, the person automatically assumed I wanted to be a teacher. My response was "Hell, no. You couldn't pay me enough to be a teacher." And now look at me.
I feel like I haven't gotten a steady job because God knows this is not what my heart wants. He knows this is not where I want nor need to be. Heathcliff dumping me was one of the worst things to have ever happened to me. It essentially broke me and my spirit, but I have become so much better off for it. I can't help but wonder if this was God's plan all along. To break me down to build me up to make something more beautiful, more durable, more independent, more confident.
And so I'm taking the first steps. I'm applying for jobs in Nashville, Boston, and New York. I'm planning a spring break trip to Dublin, going all by myself. I'm not worried about getting a boyfriend or getting married anytime soon, or at all even. I'm going to bookstores alone and reading books, even if I get a plethora of questions from the woman in her mid-forties sitting next to me (true story there, folks).
And granted it's still all very scary for me, I'm confident as long as I keep living for Jesus and my Catholic faith, I'll be well-guided, provided for, and loved. And that's really all I need. Anything else is just a bonus.
11/01/2011
Verbatim
Oh me.
Lots going on lately, including three girls trying to fight me and a friend of mine over old drama in a McDonald's at 2:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning. No seriously. I just laughed in their faces. (Don't ask what I was doing at McD's at 2:00 a.m. Okay, we had been drinking, but we were eating and sobering up).
Anyway, I got a job tutoring at the YMCA after school, and I get to be around little, little ones from Kindergarten to fifth graders and they are too, too much fun. Doesn't matter how awful a day I have at work, Tuesday is now the highlight of my week getting to talk to them. Here's some of the stuff they say:
1st grade boy: Miss D., let me touch yo' hair.
Me: Why?
Him: That's gotta be weave.
Me: Nope. It's my real hair.
Him: Let me touch it. I know weave when I feel it.
Me: Okay fine.
Him: You right. That ain't no weave. Dang you got some long hair!
4th grade girl: Miss D., take off yo glasses.
Me: I can't. I need them to see.
Her: You mean they ain't fo' looks?
Me: Nope. Blind as a bat without them.
Her: Well, take them off anyway.
Me: Ok.
Her: Ooooh, Miss D, you so much prettier without yo glasses. You must want to look like a nerd!
And this last one is slightly different from the fb post, so read it again for an even bigger laugh.
Me: looking at a picture of some cute boy on facebook after we had gotten done doing homework and were playing.
First grader: Miss D., is that your boyfriend?
Me: Nope.
First grader: You wish he was your boyfriend.
Me: Hahahaha. (Secretly thinking yes). But he's in London, England.
First grader: England?!? Where's that?!!?
Me: Here. I'll show you on a map.
First grader: Miss Doherty! That's too far away! How are you supposed to hold hands?!?
Me: I don't know. But I can't find any boys around here who like me.
First grader: It's not that hard. I can find you a boyfriend.
Me: You can?!? I can't find one. Where can I find a boyfriend?
First grader: At Wal-Mart. Or K-Mart. They're everywhere. What color do you like? I mean, do you have a color preference or you like all of them?
Me: *falls out laughing*
Lots going on lately, including three girls trying to fight me and a friend of mine over old drama in a McDonald's at 2:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning. No seriously. I just laughed in their faces. (Don't ask what I was doing at McD's at 2:00 a.m. Okay, we had been drinking, but we were eating and sobering up).
Anyway, I got a job tutoring at the YMCA after school, and I get to be around little, little ones from Kindergarten to fifth graders and they are too, too much fun. Doesn't matter how awful a day I have at work, Tuesday is now the highlight of my week getting to talk to them. Here's some of the stuff they say:
1st grade boy: Miss D., let me touch yo' hair.
Me: Why?
Him: That's gotta be weave.
Me: Nope. It's my real hair.
Him: Let me touch it. I know weave when I feel it.
Me: Okay fine.
Him: You right. That ain't no weave. Dang you got some long hair!
4th grade girl: Miss D., take off yo glasses.
Me: I can't. I need them to see.
Her: You mean they ain't fo' looks?
Me: Nope. Blind as a bat without them.
Her: Well, take them off anyway.
Me: Ok.
Her: Ooooh, Miss D, you so much prettier without yo glasses. You must want to look like a nerd!
And this last one is slightly different from the fb post, so read it again for an even bigger laugh.
Me: looking at a picture of some cute boy on facebook after we had gotten done doing homework and were playing.
First grader: Miss D., is that your boyfriend?
Me: Nope.
First grader: You wish he was your boyfriend.
Me: Hahahaha. (Secretly thinking yes). But he's in London, England.
First grader: England?!? Where's that?!!?
Me: Here. I'll show you on a map.
First grader: Miss Doherty! That's too far away! How are you supposed to hold hands?!?
Me: I don't know. But I can't find any boys around here who like me.
First grader: It's not that hard. I can find you a boyfriend.
Me: You can?!? I can't find one. Where can I find a boyfriend?
First grader: At Wal-Mart. Or K-Mart. They're everywhere. What color do you like? I mean, do you have a color preference or you like all of them?
Me: *falls out laughing*
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