being invited back into the waters that once nearly drowned me

 

  I was angry. I was angry and it was really scary, my breath was faster and couldn't calm down. Even listening to a podcast about letting go and feeling that I was moving in to an expansive space. I was quickly furious again after. 

I spoke with a new friend and she said that anger is motivating, I spoke about how I'm really trying to obsessively be in the present with things.. and then we eventually said bye. 

Now I'm HAPPY. I am really really angry, but I can smile. This is what I'm needing to be right now. What I don't express, what I don't let myself feel. I am angry. About a lot of things and it makes sense, these are anger-causing situations.

So, basically I wasn't sure what I was going to do once I moved back to the Valley. I have been sensing that there will be a whole new path but I'm not sure what it is, so I have been following the invitations and saying yes and saying no and just seeing what happens. And then, a quiet little whisper turns into a beautiful morning at this little dream of a school, with chickens in a parents yard. I can hardly say yard, because it's more of an acreage.

I felt a warmth towards the teachers and most important a connection with a few of the children. I felt I had come home, that there was a return.

I felt the sudden threat of losing the life I had had before and the other pulls on my heart. Because I felt I was going to be there and unfold there and bring my giftings and my strengths there!!

Then I had coffee with Cheridy and it all kinda felt off. She was going to be taking the Kindergarten position. I was shocked and didn't realize it wasn't a permanent offering to me. Whatever thoughtfulness and reverence of wanting me that I had felt, was gone. I felt forgotten and like one in a mix of many others.

Then I found out Lucia had been approached as well, and it just got so crazy. Like too many people were connected to this school. Then on the invite Rebecca was there, and Marussia. 

I know they are friends and I have forgiven or moved beyond what happened and into a place of restoring the love and letting go of the mess. And yet, my first reaction was dread and a feeling that a cloud was coming into my little answer for where I was to root.

Hmmm..   I guess in my heart there is forgiveness, but we will need time to walk it out. And the forgiveness happened because I wanted to keep the children in my life and they were the parents, so I didn't have the luxury to know how I truly felt.

So now I walk with this double vision, I see a beautiful dragon with shimmering wings and soft rainbow colouring.. and then as she turns black leathery wings and fire just beneath the skin and a whispering against me. 

Trust. Is a delicate thing. 

I need to be somewhere where I am free to be me, completely 

that is who the children need. That is who the children deserve to be with. 

That is the world where I belong 

loved and loving - it's my heartsong.

saying the w- word

 

 So someone asked you today, who inspires you?     and you said. ME.

What! Why? How? What inspires you about me?

You have a kind heart. You are creative. You have handled this move so well.

ooooh. Well, those things, I think, are true.

That inspires you.

if someone asked me, who inspires me? It would be all the people who can do what I can't.

Basically anyone at all who isn't me.

maybe, i'm missing something

maybe, you see me.. maybe, you know me.. i'm not sure I'm ready for this

this very real way in which i affect your every day life

this barely perceptible way i am guiding you

even without knowing so

my forehead crinkles with the deepest of questioning, and some kind of relief washes over me

it's not dazzling fireworks..  but to know you look to me..  that i am your inspiration..

oh life.  i can't help but think that that sounds like a pretty good thing in a wife.

doing not dreaming

 

   although i may be writing some words about my life, i have decided to not reflect so much, and to give the living life rather than dreaming life a chance. A chance!

   so i will just write this and then I will just drink some water and then I will go to sleep

   and wake and have some tea or coffee and then draw or maybe paint

   and then water all the things i can eat newly planted in the dirt along the fence

   and then, and then.. maybe i will write a letter or call a friend

   whatever i'm doing i am doing and that is that

   and that is that

   i think that's how to keep your feet on the ground and i think that's how your

   heart stays safe and sound.

  i know that there are things that make me wanna spread my wings and disappear

  somewhere else

   but i'm gonna write this and then I will just drink some water and the I will go to sleep.

   goodnight.

    - get some wooden shutters for the shed

    - learn a story for the May Festival and make a puppet for it

    - bake some scones, for breakfast

    - and get some succulents for the fairy stump by the driveway

   - buy a basket because its pretty but also because it keeps things organized

   - and plant the cherry blossom by the shed

   - and take your photo film rolls to be developed ( before they cannot be)

  - and get some mini printer paper so you can print out the photos that are guiding you

tired dare i let myself hope again

 

    and with a beautiful blossoming apple tree i found the whispers of who i might be

    so gentle, loving, kind and sweet

    loving stillness and meandering about the grassy yard in bare feet

    little treat

    oh wonder of wonders 

    i might be a mother 

    there may be a child for me 

     can I hold on just a little longer

          

CHAPTER TWO: a Springtime stroll as I live alongside named childhood trauma

 trauma:  the response to a deeply distressing or disturbing event that overwhelms an individual's ability to cope, causes feelings of helplessness, diminishes their sense of self and their ability to feel a full range of emotions and experiences. 

 what my dad experienced was being adopted as an older child, seeing others wanted and being unwanted.

Then when he was adopted, his mother happened to come from a large family where her mother never said i loved you, and where she was a caretaker of her siblings and therefore not mothered herself.

My grandma's message: You are not loved.   Be resilient and do your work. 

My Fathers message: You are not wanted/valued/welcomed. Work hard no one has your back.

My message: You are too much! You will never belong or succeed in the real world.

Thank Goodness I am a Pisces Day Dreamer.. I had not a lot of interest in the real world. I was fine with the imaginary ones and also the spiritual realms betwixt and between all worlds. I sang, talked to god, loved animals and later boys.. and my friends a lot !!  That was me at 10.  Me now, I sing, I talk to god or the spirit presence i sense, or my inner grandmother or child spirit self... love all the things in nature and my friends..i love my friends. As a child all i needed to be happy was a pencil and paper, and now it's the same. Seriously. 

Take my phone away! Please!

I am a sunburst. But only when I have been warmed first. I cannot warm myself, but once I have found just a little warmth I run off to warm everyone else!

But I do need someone to smile at me, or hug me, or say something kind. Sometimes I can smile or even laugh all on my own.. but usually something has stirred it. A sense of peace. A moment of gratitude. Seeing my shadow or spilling coffee and noticing it is the shape of a mermaid rising from the waves (yes this happened, yesterday i believe, and yes I took a photo) 

Take my phone away! Please!

What is astounding or just curious to me is how much I love colour and how long it took me to write in colour in this blog. Is this evidence of things changing even outwardly. Perhaps.

In my notebook it is all pen until I mention wanting to be with Tim and his family and by the locks in Ottawa again. That is written in colour. It turns out that colour returned to my life or a particular lost colour when I did finally see him, his family and was downtown. 

watch for signs, watch for who comes into your life and watch for colour. 

My hair is purple and magenta right now. I first dyed it this colour to honour and celebrate Mabel. The feistiest elder I'd ever met. The first to show me little old ladies are not the sweet and innocent woman I had imagined them to be. My hair is purple now, because I was really in a fog and thought I should do something and having a bath seemed like a good idea, and there was wine involved and then hair dye (which as it filled the bath I was delighted with, until of course, it stained the bath a light blue colour and I had to get a work out making it all white again..sigh..) 

I am going to see three children and a mom this week. They are all blond. I immediately realize that I won't fit in, that I missed my chance to be part of the crew. Even if just to be matchy-matchy. Had I thought it through I would not have chosen this week to dye my hair.

But alas, it's meant to be or that's what I sense anyway. An encounter with someone I greatly admire who I would wish to be. Well, I cannot be her for she is blond and I am many shades of purple. Important. As I try to walk in the world as me. 

She has invited me to play with them.  That is an offer I can safely accept with only wonderment in my eyes and happiness in my heart. I will see three children who remember me, who miss me. I will begin my Springtime in this new ocean city with three little friends and a momma who refused to give up on me -told me often she loved me - and reminded me of my magic.. even when I shook my head saying I had lost it or my confidence had been shaken.. she said I still shone. 

I barely believe her. But I'm staying close to anyone who loves me that much. To anyone who sees how important children are to me. And to anyone who brought into the world a girl who has kept me as a treasure for so many years.. never knowing if I would come back to her.

By your art and exploration of the cosmos never ceasing

your stories better than my own, ever so far reaching

your thoughtfulness and genius as you shelter the earths creatures

your protection of a stone once transformed into a cottage

your eyes so wide i cannot wait to see

i am so deeply honoured 

you have remembered me 

and with our meeting so meant to be 

my own inner world about to be set free

i will carry my weight with levity

because i share the world with thee.

Clearing my head

 I AM LISTENING

How many times have i had the same epiphany

only it was hidden in ramblings and wonderings

if only i had read this blog aloud so much earlier

the sign posts of my life have always been there

but i don't think i was ready

somehow i needed permission, from a friend, from a partner, from a parent, from a god.

Now it's unavoidable. It's Toaist if it's anything.

Just let go and live, and that will be you..if you don't try, then guess what you're authentically yourself

Just live. Just encounter. Trust that the things that went wrong were part of the story all along, or rail against them as unjust and deepen something in your compassion for the pain of others.

Philosophy and figuring things out and writing thoughts down is fine.. but you have to get out there and live your imperfect blustery life.

Your life. 

And if you can do that, then others have permission to too. That's the greatest thing. If you are fearless or gentle or whatever, others will learn to find their freedom in themselves..  

No don't live FOR someone's approval, but know that if you're living - your affecting.. so be you and you'll be like the rose or the kitten..  real

Not that this is the end of the blog, but in a dizzying summary so far: my childhood wasn't all dreamy

i was emotionally abused. And i was gifted fear and the need to be perfect from a very young age. Add that my identity and way to be valued lay in my virginity and that as a teenager i was pretty much ready to die for my faith. It was intense. I'm intense. not the best combination. A skewed patriarchal christianity that was primarily all head knowledge. Somehow i caught the beauty of loving others and the beauty of creation and that mingled with my already there spiritual child self was what was good about it all. And it was my grandfathers faith too. Thank God for him. Thank God for that. It's why there still remains some flickering of truth that warms me from those learnings. I never knew what it was I wasn't doing, but for sure I wasn't measuring up. God forgave me and loved me because of God being God .. not anything to do with me being lovable - nope, I was all wrong but God loved me anyway because he is awesome like that. And then with my dad, I was always wrong because I didn't know how or I didn't do it his way or I didn't do it the way other people did. I was silenced, the real me ...because he was silenced, the real him.. and I sensed this and refused to stand in the long line of people that had rejected him.. so I took it all on..because my heart stayed open for the wounding. I kept it open. I chose to see him as the child he was and not the man who was hurting my chances at being wholly and happily me in the world. I started hiding, i didn't even notice. But I only felt seen by a few people and it turns out (i see now!) it was because I only showed up as me with a very few people. And when I did and they delighted in that. Wow. It was a fucking surprise every single time. An undeserved gift. But I still hid a lot. And i am nervous about everything, cooking, biking, driving, money, employment and following my dreams. I hesitate or avoid it completely.. because in those first experiences, when those seeds were being planted.. my father - and his hereditary wounding were there..for all of it.. so my learning was always laced with fear and failure. Fact. 

That's as much as I'd like to say for now.

But I'm 42 by the time we get to these words and I am just beginning to step into adulting..i'm glad it's a word, i need it.. 

I wonder who will take my hand and take me biking, take me driving, teach me to cook something.. whoever it is they need to be hella gentle and crazy patient - because they are meeting me at my most vulnerable.

P.s. 

oh and i'll just put in here, that if love isn't safe. If your home isn't safe. If being perfect the first time seems to be the only way... then I will leave it to your imagination all the other spaces and places where fear shows up and failure follows. .. ya..  parenthood isn't going to be an easy road to get to.. marriage meant staying when you should go. No really. That was the underlying message. Stay. Just stay. The more you endure - the stronger your love.  so ouch.  And then in actuality, not having your parents actually maintain that as pretty much to the day you got married - they got divorced.  Umm.. at least have the decency to end your marriage well before your child commits to their own.  

So do I know where it all comes from. Yup. Do I need to somehow in someway close my heart off to the wound and wounder - so as to begin seeing who I am and to begin healing my relationships and walk wholly and happily in the world, probably. in some way. Yes. Am I mad at all my dad destroyed because he couldn't free himself. Yeah. Sry, but I am. I have some new found anger.. which for once, I will not enter as sadness. 

Can I stop at the knowing whose fault it is that I carry so much fear? I can't. That won't heal me, that won't help anyone. I have to walk through every broken doorframe and across every shattered mirror..i have to go back through this house of hurt and find myself.. she's been alone a long time.. she is curled up in a corner and terrified - of course she is!  

I have to find her and tell her that it's okay.

because it is..  or it will be.. it's gonna be okay xo   oh, I'm also gonna tell her she's amazing! super brave! and can DO anything.. and no it won't be the way others do it.. it will be beautifully spectacularly uniquely the way she would do it.   (sorry this is making me bawl my eyes out)  

celebrating myself is the hardest thing. I'm going to try (please, do not even think this is wrong..it's necessary and healing) 

and no it won't be the way others do it.. it will be beautifully spectacularly uniquely the way she would do it. Because... there is NO better WAY in all the Universes combined and When she bikes, and births and drives... She'll be actually alive!!

* no pressure on the birthing, its just there amongst the things i wish for daily.. so ya.. adoption is equally a way to have a kid & by the way, I used to think calling them kid was condescending.. Whaaaa....t? ever!

So. Maybe,  if you have some thoughts, write them down and read them aloud. If you have pictures of dreams over the years, take them out and look at them. 

Listen to your life. The Signs. The Exact combination to unlock yourself is right there. You don't have to go further than your heart. xo

Fight for the You the world is silencing!!! I think that person is abso-fuckin-lutely fantabulous!!! 

Thanks for listening to the story so far... 

Burning Witches

 Burning all the witches inside me 

 But real witches are eternal and they still stood 

they still held out the herbs of healing 

still wished for my renewal my redeeming 

 When I still held the match in my hand ,when I could still cause them pain 

 They loved me 

 Mothers and sisters and aunties 

Fire keepers 

naked and beautiful in all their phases 

 Who led me to them

 the one little witch that had been there all along

 the sneaky, the unconventional one 

 the one that ran up hills and got scratched by the trees 

The one that ran naked into the heart of the sea 

 She I could not silence 

 When others lifted their matches to hurt her I snuffed them 

 You cannot curse this wondrous spell but who knew that she would dance inside me and grow 

 This wild little vixen child would become my woman’s soul 

 And the sparkle in my eye and the part of me that’s wide open safe in every tempest 

delighting even in the things that were broken 

 The artist 

The one who sees so much farther than any life this world can offer 

 That ethereal flicker 

That untameable ghost 

 The one that really knows me the most 

 She is there and she’s asking again can I love her 

 with all her burned skin

unlocking

it's not that you hold the key to my heart it's so much more you held the key to my life? there is a metal chest i didn't know it was there but apparently it's where i had put everything i couldn't face or that wasn't allowed to be in me and while we were hanging out nonchalantly you took out a key you had in your pocket for who knows how long and you unlocked it yeah pandora has nothing on this in a second, with a glance, all the ghosts i had forgotten flooded the room and asked me to dance entranced, intoxicated, unbound and undone i was carried in all directions at once and was at home in myself like a cheshire cat your smile made it magic and it all seemed so healing, even if slightly iratic but now, you're far away and i'm left only with the other things that were revealed that day all of the ghosts even a few demons the beautiful witches that i couldn't burn all the unlived moments and you, all these years, with them hidden no wonder you know me so well at least all of my secrets unspoken you are equally that much a part of me. but somehow that night, as all of my ghosts flooded me in that very second you too were set free!

Beginning to see my own bravery

I don't want to be braver - I want to WISH that I was! I don't want to be a mom of six, I want to WISH I could be! All of my longings and why am I not's - these very jealousies and sorrows are ME! This is hilarious. My pain is a punch line! How did I not realize, of course it would not go away, it will never go away, like a child wishing to be grown, like wanting to be a rockstar or live on the Moon. It's me to have a thousand lives that I have not yet lived. That is who I am I'm just a kid. Waiting for life to begin, looking in awe as all around them, everyone else can do it. Pouting " Why can't I?" Just like someone who wants to eat the whole pie. I'm breaking open and I'm breaking through and it's only taken a hell or two. Being full of anxiety and still not sure that I will make the right mistake, but I have to make at least one. Today I was delighted in whimsy as I had a bright magenta bath, due of course to my hair dye. I had asked myself if it would stain my body and tested to make sure it wouldn't, meanwhile not even taking a second to wonder if perhaps it would dye the white bathtub. When the water drained I saw the tub Blue! I loved it so much, but knew that wouldn't do in a world of practicality and taking care of things, I knew I had to scrub this bath tub until there was no longer a beautiful ring. And man! It was tough, and my hands are still hurting and I heard a lesson quiet and confirming coming from myself therefore full of love and understanding. Whoops! That bath was gorgeous and fun, but next time you'll dye your hair outside and be careful where the colour runs. And this kind of guidance I can easily accept, it comes from me and so I hardly fret and while I could argue against myself i see my own reasons and without judgement I learn. But the path that I walked was laid out for me clearly and I knew what to do and what wasn't allowed and when I hadn't even stepped off the path, I would get reprimanded or worse yelled at! So that what wasn't wrong, but a trying my best would be met with you've failed and you won't be a success. How utterly confusing, how awefully backwards, to think you could raise a child right with cruel words. I never ran away, except once to the backyard. I never disobeyed and my harshest word was O My God! as I slammed the backdoor. And now I realize that wasn't even commiting a sin, the heart is what matters - the words just keep score. I remember wanting privacy, I remember forgetting. I remember wanting to be seen as me. I remember Yelling the words - I love you!! And being tossed aside. My heart wasn't wanted. I didn't tote the party line. So if there is one thing I could actually wish away - it would be my upbringing and all that happened that day. And yet, the reason I know how to love in this world is I simply give others what I myself rarely heard and I hold people until they let go, and I listen because oh so long ago. I was silenced and ignored and only liked when I fit a mold. Because of my wounding, I can love and I can hold. Because of my wounding, I can see and I can hear Because of my wounding, I can give peace and not fear I guess I am becoming braver. And I have cared for more than six. All of my longings and why am I nots - maybe I am all those things if my life's not in knots. So I'll try to untangle the ones that I can and hope that the love of others will help the rest mend.

Little Black Riding Hood

there she goes little black riding hood with her basket of trinkets and treasures from life as it's happened to her so far there she goes smile on her face lost in a day dream and listening to birds black birds reminding her of death, transformation and writing desks oh black riding hood are you off to grandmothers house? have you already been there? did you meet the wolf? I am still on my way the path is unknown and the wolf I have seen off and on sometimes i am frightened but mostly i know there's a wisdom deep in her eyes as she howls at the moon my path may be leading me to her it seems and I may be the grandmother by the end of this journey and you know they never wrote about me but a child in the woods with a brand new red hood there she goes little black riding hood with her basket of trinkets and treasures from life as it's happened for her so far now some time later i see a basket emptied and weathered a beautiful basket woven so well i hadn't noticed with her holding it i was somehow under her spell where did she go little black riding hood without her basket trinkets and treasures from life as it happened

my dad

 beyond loss, there is awakening. 

I have been existing in the world as okay, and at home or behind the scenes with trauma-coloured glasses. 

I am terrified to leave the house and once i'm out, i'm fine - sometimes even exhuberant. 

I smile and say hello to strangers. I am not shy!

But I am almost in tears trying to get from the shower into clothes and into a coat and boots and out the door. It is so unbearable and i feel like i am not okay. 

I'm not! 

It was ingrained in me that I wouldn't make it in the real world. To do most things required the presence of my dad, which was like having an aweful scary soot monster around.. 

hey I think i want to draw my dad, like the vibe he gave. 

I wonder. hmmmm. 

from within as the seedling begins

 i feel so often that we write about things and talk about things when we have come through them, but i thought it would be helpful and honest to write while i'm in it..

 so i am in this cocoon of healing, which sounds so delightful and full of good wine, soft pillows and lightness. In reality it is a bubble that is slowly filling with all the ghosts i have not addressed in my life. What is surfacing exactly? Loss. A lot of loss. And facing the  fact that at some point I have to awaken to what is me that has been pushed aside or even almost snuffed out entirely. 

 so I am finding her in the middle of these constant rising dark clouds like a thick steam i appear as an illusion and i reach forward and hold onto her, but sometimes the heats too hot and i get burnt and drop her as fast as I had her.

 I hate the clouds that are surfacing and I hate that when I see me, I see the pain of how forgotten I was.

Not by the children. Never by the children. They saw me and held me and I could be freely myself with them. If ever you saw me with a child, then you knew me too. And lucky lucky you. 

She's pretty great, hey? Silly and boistrous and pretty well knocks you over with her hugs. She is all love.I It's like somehow she just explodes into the essence she was made to be in the world. She doesn't even see it or plan to, infact she's often hidding that self away. 

She crashes into the world like a million rainbow meteors! Leaving craters of beauty that radiate peace and warmth and belonging.

So why can't she belong to herself, or trust that this world that she loves so incredibly much might in fact love her. 

When I visited Saltwater Waldorf School in September for the Michaelmas Festival, I was to put a flaw into the dragons mouth. I wrote - not letting myself feel Joy!  or something to that effect. Heart breaking but definitely true. I don't allow happiness. 

I am learning that in order to honour and love people I have remained in states of sadness, or even profound grief - because that's where they were at. I have gone with entering into their sorrow as how to live alongside them and carry their pain. 

I am starting to think that if i can remain full of light, I can better care for them. That someone who is wounded can only welcome wounds to mingle in and that that is not a healing of the wounds.

In my life I have definitely been hugging others when i so very much needed to be hugged myself. I know you think hugs go both ways, but not when I am solely focused on the other person and beaming all my feelings of warmth at them.. really sending all of me to them in that moment.

The hope i suppose is that as I find the me's within this miasma of pain, that i will be able to be whole. That i will be able to absorb them into one solid me and that I will emerge with all of those parts that have been shunned and silenced and judged and understand that they are beautiful.

Not because I put a stamp on them as such, but because I truly feel that.

When I turned 40 I felt this quiet "meh" like a shrug. Like this was my life, the wonderful and the aweful and it was all okay. 

Then sometime into my 41st year, it was like a giant wind spirit came whirling up with just one question.

You're okay with your life. No regrets. It's all complete. It is what it is.  REALLY???? 

and that roar, like a distant dream, may have awoken the question in me.. or maybe life did with one trip home.. one trip that felt so incredibly different 

a trip where I saw my life clearly. my life. the life i had chosen and the life that had happened to me and all the things that hadn't. I fell apart and was put back together.

My dad realized I was his daughter.

I found a soul friend, i'm not sure what else to call him. Someone who made me happy again, and strong and ready for all of this life! ready to fight for the me I'd lost. 

It was like. I've got you. oh wait, you're going back out in the world, okay, well then here's some armour - a really cool sword.. and i'll send you clues along the way.. you're not alone..

And I was invited into a kitchen to bake and laugh and bump hips with my aunt. Oh! how I needed her. To laugh till we both snorted! To be ridiculous and wise. Lady Catherine & Sir Uncle of Renaissance days, 

Moose and Unicorn. Holder of all of my dreams! :)

I know why Waldorf was so very important. It blends my german heritage with my farm upbringing. Homes both known and somewhere within me. 

One of my losses is my HOME.    925.   Even somehow Hillcrest Farm. and along the way Saltwater in Tin Town.  

to be continued.. as i journey.. 

my life is now.   Before Christmas 2019 and After Christmas 2019 

Hey, BC and AC   Nice. 

Gently defeated every damn day

 

 When did this happen? When did i start to feel this way? Little by little seeing people and being amazed. You can swing upside down high in the air! You can bike through the town, freely go anywhere. Beautiful and strong. I used to simply adore you all for all you were. Now, it only hurts. Everything I'm not. All the ways I'm inside when I should be out on a walk. Now it only hurts. All that I can't be. Have I scaled a mountain, have I even slept out at sea. All the things that Mothers do, carrying their babies on their fronts, on their bikes and hikes too. I want to be that brave. All the everyday regular things seem to me like having wings and bungee jumping - my body doesn't love adrenelin that much.

So where are the ones. Who sit and read books in their own backyards. Who write all their feelings and don't get much farther. And why did I always want to be a runner and do these things that are so far and so hard for me.

You said " an athlete of the mind" I must have said I wished to be more like you. You gave me words that flipped the script and you said, " it's all energy and you can consume it in many forms" 

The people I admire, seem to admire me. I just want to cry because I don't see what they see.

I feel so shadowy and I know this is coming from trauma me. But why so afraid. 

Afraid to go out. Don't even mail a letter. Don't even go to the doctor. There is so much I need a hand to hold onto for, and I hate it a little but more I wonder is there someone out there who would see all I can do and think that this wasn't a big deal.

He says it's not. But I don't know. I say I accept myself, but do I really? 

I write these words. He is on a walk. He woke up, showered and was off. If only. I am not ready to leave and I'm nervous for tomorrow I have plans to do so. And is it just being here, that I am angry that it's been so long since I've been at the beach with a friend. 

I just don't recognize where I am. 

And I woke up peaceful! I woke up happy!

I'm okay, until someone does something that I'm not doing right now. I think every picture hurts somehow. And I wanna be kind and happy for them all.