The Replacements

Yesterday the replacement moved in. Harsh sure, but it's how I've been feeling.

Ironically enough, the replaced was once the replacer as well.

I had this realization today that sometimes you just have those people that aren't permanent.

Sometimes we go through life and someone comes along and it's fleeting, but it's wonderful.

They make you laugh, and they become the person you want to be around as often as possible. This can go both ways. It can be platonic, and it could also be a case for the hopeful romantics.

For me it's usually the latter.

Usually I meet someone, and I get to know them and for a good few weeks it feels like it may be developing into something more. Something that could last.

Being that I live in a seasonal town, and up until now a seasonal mindset, it never lasts.

People leave, people drift away, and people break your heart.

You go through a time where you wonder why? Why did I get so close to this person that I knew would leave, or I knew it wouldn't work, or I knew wasn't the right person.

I've also been in the place where I ask God why. Why was I allowed to fall in love with these humans. Why did God put such amazing people in my path that were just going to end up leaving.

I still don't have an answer, but I know that eventually it gets better. Eventually the pain of someone gone goes away, and then the space in your life is filled with someone new. Sometimes if you're lucky, they worm their way into your heart.

Yesterday the replacement moved in.

I've heard great things.

I've heard and seen that he's cute.

I've heard he is super sweet.

And I know that this isn't his fault. But i'm upset.

He's here instead of  you.

You are Worthy

For years I've waited. I've been the patient one. I didn't jump in for fun.

For years I've waited. I was the wise one. Though nothing I ever advised was done.

For years I've waited. To be told I'm loved. By someone who wasn't supposed to.

Now I stand on the edge. I stand on the precipice of what has been in my life and what could be. I stand on the edge as you look at me.

I've always told others to jump in and go for it. To say how they felt and they wouldn't regret it.

And here I am wanting to tell you that I like you, but thinking that their case and mine are not the same.

My life is different, I've always argued. They were the pretty ones. And I was there wishing that I was.

Now, however, everything has changed. I know who I am and what I am capable of.And I know that I am beautiful.

I know that sometimes things don't work out, but that doesn't mean we don't go for them.

Sometimes people don't feel the same, but that shouldn't bring us to the conclusion that we are not worthy.

You are worthy. And I am worthy.

And all I want right now is to tell you that I see your worthiness.

I see how you struggle but I'm here to tell you, you are wonderful.

I see the little things that make me laugh, the little things that somehow make me feel more worthy. I want to be the one who makes you laugh. The one who points you towards God in everything.

You are worthy. And so am I.

So even if I open my lips and say I like you, and you don't say yes, I know I'll be just fine.

Impacted

There have been very few times in my life where I have been fully encompassed by sadness to the point where I couldn't breathe. And by very few, I mean that there have been two times that I remember vividly. The first time was December 6th, 2014. I had been leading worship at my church since my graduation in May and I was working at a donut shop and living with five other girls.

I had gained so many good friends in those short six months. So many people who stood by my side when I started getting burnt out. People who helped talk me through my past and show me that none of what happened was my fault.

Those people impacted my life so much that leaving literally felt like each and every one of them were being ripped from my heart. I left for reasons that now seem completely ridiculous, but I'm glad I did it. I'm glad that I endured crying six hours straight on my drive to my parents house because that decision led me to another decision.

The decision to move to Mammoth.

And to my dismay become a part of another amazing group of friends who loved me so much I started to love myself. They loved me so much that I started gaining confidence, I started seeing my worth, I started seeing that I have power and authority. God showed me that, but he also surrounded me with people that were going to hold me to believing nothing less. One in particular.

Which brings me to the second time, last Monday. Multiple people left Mammoth to go off and do new things, or follow dreams, or go back to the UK. It was probably the most emotional day I've had since that last one. Once I said goodbye to my roommate Jesse it was like my heart was completely numb and done saying goodbye to amazing people that I love.

I cried all day. And a little bit into the night. But surprisingly enough on Tuesday I only cried once, and it was because my roommate started crying first and I'm a sympathy crier.

In the midst of all the sadness, and the missing pieces, I know that it's going to be okay. Because I know that it only hurts this bad because it was good.

If I had to say goodbye to people and feel no sadness at all, then what real friendship did I have with them?

Not Afraid.

On July 12th, I set out to Mammoth Lakes, CA to begin a road trip with my friend. This probably seems normal to everyone who knew I was leaving on a road trip, but only a handful of people know that I left a day early. I left early because life in Hollister just became too much.

Family drama. Falling into old habits. Anxiety that got so bad it drove me to suicidal thoughts. Well. One. It would be easier if I wasn't here.

Even as I right this, I'm tearing up at remembering how helpless and sick I felt being there.

I couldn't stand up for myself.

I wasn't doing anything I loved.

I wasn't healthy. I was being enabled. And codependent.

If you want to see someone get truly depressed, just put them in a place they don't like, doing something they don't love, and have them completely isolated from any meaningful relationships.

That was me.

So when I arrived at the wonderful camp that is The Station, it felt like an immediate 180.

I came here for three days before we left on our trip and volunteered in the kitchen.

Something as simple as setting up tables made me feel like I was doing something meaningful again.

I felt like there was purpose again.

And instead of getting anxiety for thinking nothing was ever going to happen for me, I got nervous because I knew it was going to.

So I stayed.

---

This weekend I had the opportunity to go home to Hollister.

The city that it probably seems like I just disappeared from.

I went to a going away party for a couple that I've known since highschool and beyond.

Our pastor encouraged them with words about their future, and how no matter what happens they shouldn't be afraid because God will always be by their side.

Almost everything that was said in encouragement for them, I felt as though God was whispering it to me.

That he was telling me that life is going to be okay.

Life isn't going to be easy by a long shot, but it's all going to be okay. And that I needn't be scared.

---

That night brought so much healing for me.

I got to hug those that I thought might have been hurt by me just up and leaving.

I got to pray for friends, and joke with acquaintances.

I got to actually, for once in my life, tell people that I've been happy. I didn't have to say "I've been okay." or "Things are fine."

I told people what I've been up to and it wasn't as excruciating as it usually is.

I went in with anxiety, scared that I would be shunned, or made to feel bad about my choices.

I left feeling encouraged. My family in Hollister still loves me, and to be honest my insecurities were the only thing to make me believe anything else.

I left that night knowing that I shouldn't be afraid for my future. I'm going to make mistakes, and I'm going to stumble.

Probably a lot.

But God says it'll be okay.

---

Now I can think of myself charging forward into my future with God by my side.

And I'm not afraid.

A Daughters Breaking Heart

For as long as I can remember my mother has struggled with an immense amount of pain.

Because of this, for most of my life she has been addicted to Vicodin and other painkillers. 

Sometimes it's even hard to make it through the week without her needing to have a glass of wine. And she's a lightweight, so she could get flat out drunk with one and a half.

My mom had a terrible childhood, her mother wasn't good at keeping a stable home. 

Two summers ago I was in my room and I heard my mom crying in the living room, drunk, talking about her dad. 

My dad was trying to comfort her, yes, but this wasn't the first time it had happened and it gets on his nerves that she medicates with substances.

I've had to tell her multiple times that she doesn't need to drink. And that I don't know what to do when she gets like this. 

When I got back from Massachusetts she had an episode. I don't remember what had happened, but she ended up calling her doctor to find a place that would help her get weened off of the Vicodin. It would have been 48 hours long so she would have had to stay. Her and my dad got in the car and left, and then no more than five minutes later they were pulling back into the drive way. She couldn't go. She decided that she was going to try something else.

I remember in high school, my senior year, we had moved an hour away from my high school and I had to go on independent studies to take care of her after her knee replacement. She had Vicodin to help with the pain, and I had to give them to her. I was the designated pharmacist when my dad was gone because we couldn't trust her with them.

I also remember when she had finally gotten off of them my summer home after freshmen year, and I had gotten my wisdom teeth out. The doctor was going to give me a prescription for Vicodin to help with my pain, I had to tell her no in front of my mother because I didn't want it in my house. I took the Motrin. 

All of my life my mother has struggled. And it's breaking my heart. I'm not saying that I don't want to help, but no daughter should have to help her parent with their addictions. 

I've wanted God to heal my mom for so long. But I think my mom just needs to see that He can.