Posts Tagged ‘strength’

“I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.”   –Jack London

I am walking a fine line between keeping my shit together, and hitting my breaking point. Literally the first week after my return was a series of bad news: health stuff, car stuff, work stuff, personal stuff – everything. There have been a few points that I’ve just crawled into bed, willing to accept defeat and not deal with the outside world anymore. My health is a giant mess, and probably the biggest problem since I’ve returned from Orlando. I pushed off a lot of appointments, tests, procedures, etc until after my vacation, so I wouldn’t be sore and so I wouldn’t be stressed about results of anything. But the day after I came back, I saw the nephrologist for my kidneys, because they’re being damaged, and it’s only gotten worse from there. But I will do a proper post on that junk separately once I know a little bit more about what’s going on. youwillfeel Yet, despite everything, I am trying to continue forward. Writing and drawing and working on my photography, like I should be. I won’t pretend, though, that there haven’t been days I’ve doubted myself, and thought that maybe it is time to grow up and be a responsible adult, go for something else in school, and get a real career instead of relying on all these dreams. But something about that changed on Friday, when my mom had mentioned to someone (that doesn’t know me) all of the things I do outside of my day job, and all of the accomplishments I had so early on. When the person asked me why I’m not actively pursuing my writing and everything, I shrugged and told them “I am, but I just work too much.”

And that has been eating at me. When did I really become that person?

My health and my dreams and my relationships all suffer because I work too much. At what point did a job I took to just make a little extra money become four years of my life and my main focus? Because this is not what I want to be doing the rest of my life. Not even close. Yet, here I am.

I can very easily compare it to the Jack London quote at the beginning of this post. I am rotting. I am becoming dust. I used to feel like I was becoming someone, and I let it all start slipping away. I’m ashamed of myself for it. I would much rather be ashes than dust. I would rather live than exist. And if my spark is to die out, I’d rather it be after a brilliant blaze than suffocated in rot.

Well, I'm 24, but still.

Well, I’m 24, but still.

I’m not afraid of dying at this point. I’m afraid of just existing, instead of living. I’m afraid that my time will suddenly be up, and I won’t have anything to show for it. The travels help. The occasional little steps forward in writing and art and photography help. But I’m ready for really feeling like I’ve done something.

It’s time to dust myself off and keep going. Everything will be okay.


I’m a big fan of nurturing my inner child. It’s not a secret, because it’s so painfully evident that other people decide to play Captain Obvious and remind me that I’m child-like. Thanks, got it.

I can’t really help it – the little things in life still excite me. Imagination and creativity and wonder fuel my existence. I’d rather curl up and watch cartoons than go to a fancy restaurant date. I like collecting toys and plushies and things that just bring a smile to my face. I geek out over Batman, Harry Potter, Doctor Who, etc like you wouldn’t even believe, with a sort of nerdy joy that many instantly refer to as acting like a kid on Christmas morning.

And for a while, off and on in my life, this has made me feel terrible. Not because I don’t like it, but because other people make me feel like I shouldn’t. Adults don’t focus on those things. Adults don’t like those things. Adults blah blah blah. I hear it constantly about my travels and my dreams and everything people can find to criticize. For a while, I really didn’t understand why I just couldn’t be like everyone else and function like me. Then this thought occurred to me when I saw Rise of the Guardians:RotG

When North (the Santa character), is describing himself and what makes him a guardian, he explains his Center. For North, after you pass all the other layers, at his very core is Wonder. He is wide-eyed and child-like and sees all this magic and beauty and potential to the world. He then asks Jack, “What is yours?”

If I broke myself down, I think I could be – from outside inward:

1.) Weird

2.) Creative

3.) Strong

4.) Compassionate & loyal

5.) Courageous

and, at the very center, I am…

6.) Adventurous and full of Wonder

Not to copy North or anything on the Wonder part, but honestly at my center is my childlike wonder. The girl that used to adventure through the woods and take it all in, wide-eyed and fascinated. In a way, I’ve never come out of that. I still wander to unfamiliar places and take it all in with appreciation. I want to take off and explore and be the girl I’ve always been in my heart.

So on the outside, I may be a touch weird, and beyond that people realize I’m creative. Sometimes people get farther, to learn I’m strong, compassionate, and loyal. When they really start to see what I’m made of, they see my courage to continue on despite every obstacle. But what makes up everything is my center. The adventurous child.

That is my center; what is yours?


A friend (THANK YOU EMILY!!!) suggested I listen to this song earlier, and I thought I’d share. I needed to hear this song today, and it’s really made me feel so much better. Let’s add it to my Soundtrack of a Misfit: Force of the Unseen by Cloud Cult:

We said, “There’s nothing wrong.”
We put our strong face on.
And go right
through it.
Please say it can’t be done.
Cuz that’s just fuel for me to
just prove this yeah, you’ll see.
Cuz that’s just fuel for me to just do
this, yeah, you’ll see.

We have so much energy that you can’t
We’ll blow right through it.
Please say you can’t help me.
Cuz that’s just fuel for me to just prove this, yeah, you’ll see.
Cuz that’s just
fuel for me to just do this, yeah, you’ll see.

I’m gonna make it through,
you’ll see.
I swear I’ll prove you wrong.
You haven’t seen the last of
I am way too strong.
It’s not impossible, you’ll see.
You’ve never
been inside my head:
Ten billion burning suns and belief in a strength that
can raise the dead.

It’s the warmth when you’re next to me.
It’s the
bright white light of a fevered dream.
It’s the storm in your eyes.
in the roots of the tree:
The underestimated power of the forces of the

I’m supppppposed to be writing out a list of things I need to do before my trip to Orlando next month. (Oh, did I not mention this? I’ll explain later..)


Of Not-So-Good-Days:

I’ve been moody the past several days, thanks to silly people and their desire to drag me way, way down for whatever reason. But it’s cool, I can take it. I’ve heard worse, really. Definitely been through worse. It just starts to get pretty annoying  and eventually starts to bring you down. Oh joy, that’s what I really need right now: even more stress and reasons to mope about.

But, luckily for me, I’ve been building up this nifty little thing called strength since I was a kid.Once upon a time I had antidepressants, then didn’t want to take medicine to feel normal. Then I developed a not so great habit that I still don’t feel completely comfortable to share. Luckily, I did end up kicking it (go me), though I don’t believe it will every really be gone. When I was 20, after dealing with a pretty rough year, I decided I needed something to remind me of that. So, I had ‘Strength’ tattooed on my right wrist so I could see it any time I started to doubt myself. It’s not that I need some silly reminder. But when I start to feel like maybe everything is hopeless, maybe I should give up and change my course, I know somewhere inside of me is the strength to overcome. I can see that bold black ink on my skin, a constant reminder of  “You can do this” just for me. Because there are worse things in life, and because I’ve been through worse myself. I can do this. I can make it.

I hate it when I get down on myself. I’m really my own worst enemy, above anyone else in the world. I can shrug off haters. I can ignore petty people and doubters. But my own mind? Yikes. Keep it away from me. Because it seems to know exactly what to say to drag me into my own little hell and make me never want to leave my bed again. But that’s where the whole strength thing comes back into play: I overcome. I pick up my pieces, dust my shoulders off, and keep going. I tend to become angry, or more likely determined to press onward. It’s very, very rare that I just give up and mope about in my own self pity. I battle my depression with all the force I can, and usually win out. It’s something I’m extremely proud of. It’s the most beautiful thing about me. It’s what keeps my body alive, my soul beautiful, and my eyes reflecting that.

I. Am. Strong.

Writing has been one of the healthiest releases for me when I’m trying to overcome any anxiety or depression. Like the image says – Keep Calm and Write Something. Yeah, yeah. It’s a rip-off of the whole ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’ thing. But still – it works for how I feel. Working on a piece of art has a similar way of releasing all the bad things from me – I turn up some music and get messy, and for at least that long I can breathe without an ache in my chest and not have to focus on all the bad.And in times when that just won’t cut it – I clean like a crazy person. (I hadn’t noticed I clean when I’m upset until it was pointed out to me some time ago. Go figure.)

That’s the kind of thing I always recommend to people: find a hobby (a non-destructive, illegal, or otherwise bad hobby mind you) that you’re passionate about and let that be your escape.  Some people have writing of whatever form, some listen to music, some clean, some go for walks/runs, some paint or draw or sculpt or whatever. Create something better instead of doing something negative. Accomplish something. That’s what seems to work – not hiding your hurt in some pile of useless vices on those not-so-good-days.

The Mysterious Sickness of Doom:

I’ve been making a slight improvement health wise, but nothing as grand as everyone else seems to believe. Eh, whatever. I’ve started working a few hours a day again in hopes of keeping my job (the threat of replacement was lingering in the air), and have slowly but surely started taking on photography projects again (see previous post).

But still no real answers. Still no signs of my previous self.

Why AM I going to Orlando?!:

Hogwarts, my dear lovelies. That’s why.