The Last Straw

Okay, so this past week, and I suppose past 2 weeks, have been slightly out of control. I am not even sure what to really focus on in this blog because I felt like this entire week my mind has been in this fog of indefinable emotions. If you know me, you know that I like to define my emotions. I am a very passionate person; when I am happy I am happy, when I am sad I am sad, and when I am mad I am mad. I give it all I got. I personally like to know what I am feeling. You know, this helps with knowing what type of music to listen to. Hater rap music? Sad music? Love songs? Breakup songs? Crazy fun music? Country songs with no meaning? I couldn’t even choose what type of music to listen to.

On Monday night of this past week, I was running on very little sleep and my body and face began to show it. I developed this rash all around both of my eyes that carried into my cheeks. It was red, puffy, itchy and it burned. Not to mention I looked like I may not make it through another day. I give you complete permission to laugh at this next story, because it is funny. And I am only sharing this story and the words that follow to tell you that life does go on, God always provides some humor even in the worst of situations, and there is joy in every aspect of life.

So, here is the greatest story of my last couple of weeks. On Monday night Kellyn looked at my eyes and goes, “Erica…that does not look good.” By this time it was late, but my face felt so swollen I didn’t even think I could handle it anymore. At 11 o’clock, I drove to Walmart to get any sort of medication to help me out. [Side note: If you are ever in Huntington, Indiana and need to go to Walmart at an hour after 9 p.m., don’t go by yourself] As I got out of my car, apparently a bird pooped on my head. I didn’t know this until I went into the store and was informed by a group of guys with tattoos who followed me around that I did indeed “have bird shit in my hair.” Yep…there it was. I felt my hair and felt this thick goo.

Not a huge deal, I would be out of Walmart soon with medicine. I always try to see some sort of silver lining in situations, so I just told myself that this would be a great story to go back and tell everyone at school. But…things did indeed get worse.

As soon as I found the medicine, I began heading for the checkout line. As if out of nowhere, this small child (which, by the way: who brings their 2 year old to Walmart at 11 p.m., anyway?) with a toy truck decided to push the truck away, right in front of my walking path. Well, as you can probably guess, I tripped over it. My entire body basically went up two feet and landed face first into Walmart’s floor. And as I laid on the floor with my knees throbbing, bird poop running down my itchy face, my purse and the contents in it flung all around me, the guys with tattoos laughing at me and saying inappropriate comments, I thought, “yep, things can’t get much worse than this.” The poor Walmart worker came up to me to help and asked, “Are you okay?”

And that is when I lost it, right there in the middle of Walmart at 11:30 p.m. on a Monday night. I guess you could say this was the last straw.

I got up, refusing his help which was just embarrassing, and looked at him and said, “Am I okay? Do I look like I am okay? I have a rash that has messed up my face, my purse is all over the floor, there is bird poop running through my hair, and relationships are just too freaking hard! Does that sound like okay to you?” Honestly, I don’t know where that came from or why I decided to unleash on this old guy, but it happened. Emotional vomit, as Brittany would like to call it. He looked at me and goes, “Uhh…sorry, I didn’t know.”

No, he didn’t know nor did he probably want to know. But he found out, as did the dysfunctional family with the two year old and the gang of perverts with tattoos. They all found out I was having a bad time.

All I wanted was to leave Walmart with a little dignity…but that clearly did not happen.
But, hey, the next day I was laughing about it. And the good news is that the medicine I got took care of the rash, the bird poop washed out of my hair, and my knees stopped hurting from the fall. The rest of my problems, well, they don’t just clean up as easily as bird poop and can’t really be solved with a medication, but I have faith that with time all things will heal. And maybe, just maybe, there will be some funny stories to go along with that, too.

Friends, Lovers, or Nothing?

That is the question. [And thank you John Mayor for writing great music.]

I am currently supposed to be writing a critical analysis/prepare a presentation on a sonnet called “Astrophil and Stella” for tomorrow. Yeah…I am not very far on that. I am having a hard time focusing on anything right now except all of my issues. I hate it when life gets in the way of my homework. It’s like, how are we supposed to function when there are all these balls up in the air? Anyway, this entire sonnet is super sad. It is all about this man who is completely in love with this woman, but he can’t have her. Probably the saddest part of the entire thing is that the reason he can’t have her is not because she is not in love with him; it is because that thing called life somehow made their relationship have to come to a halt. But that doesn’t mean the love didn’t stop, as you could tell by reading. Normally crap like that does not make me even blink, but when I was reading it yesterday I seriously wanted to cry; and why it just so happened I would have to read and report on this sonnet right now at this point in my life I do not know.

So, without bringing you into my personal life right now too much, I want to ask a question. Can two people be friends after they have had something more? Is it possible that there can be an amazing friendship after the friendship was brought to a new level? Can things ever go back to the way they were before? Most people say no. And if I am being totally honest with myself here, I would have to agree. There really seems to be no way. Acquantances, yes. Virtual friends, sure. But what about that true friendship again? Can that ever be after things have in some way ended? I sure hope so. I don’t think I could bear losing a friend.

But that is just the thing. If whatever was between two people was already built upon a lasting friendship that has been through every trial known to mankind (okay, maybe a slight exaggeration, but you get it), after it ends, shouldn’t the friendship still remain? Maybe that is only in the movies. It seems too sad to know that that person who knows you the best, who fights with you better than anyone else ever could, who knows just what to say to piss you off but then also knows what to say to make you laugh again, who you could spend hours and hours just talking with turn into the person who you pretend doesn’t exist within a matter of a day. That is the cycle of relationships, but that just seems to sad. Once a friend, always a friend? Or does the past put too much between two people?

One of my favorite shows I watched this summer is called Men in Trees. I think the creator of this show wrote it about me, and looking back now I can see that is true, hah. If you have never seen it, you should watch it. One of my favorite quotes (now) from that show is said by the main character, who in the show is writing a book about men and relationships. She says this,

“Friendship between a man and a woman is complicated, especially if they've shared something more. There are times when love can be stronger and even more rewarding if it's built on the foundation of a really great friendship. But wherever it's headed, wherever it's been, being just friends doesn't have to mean settling for something less. Sometimes it can be the brass ring after all.”

So, I think I prefer this answer to my question. But, is that really reality? Is life really about having special people in your life for a few years and then moving on without them? Believe me, I could go on and on with this for forever right now. But, it is complicated, and to each situation their own. But I guess somewhere inside of me I can only hope that the past between two people, no matter how twisted, tangled, wonderful, and bittersweet, doesn’t always have to end with a slamming of a door. Maybe, just maybe, given the right time and care, their friendship or whatever can be all the more beautiful because of it.

A Safe Place

So, I am sick. We all could have seen this one coming. My body was telling me this about three weeks ago, and now I finally believe it. I am going to say it now though; it is only going to get worse from here. You want to know why? Because it is almost one in the morning and I am not sleeping despite the fact that I am exhausted, my throat is on fire, I can’t stop sneezing, and even though I took a lot of medicine, my nose is still running. And, on top of that, life can’t just stop just because my body wants to. I still have tests and projects and other stuff to get done before Friday, and instead of letting my body get the much deserved sleep and relaxation that it deserves, I am writing. Some things are so twisted.

I am not going to lie to you now; I have had a bad week. A lot of it is because of me, because it is what I know was supposed to happen, and some of it is just because life is life and it can’t always be great. I could lie on here easily and no one would ever really know, unless you are in my inner circle. But, lying and pretending that all these wonderful things that have made my life amazing the past seven days seems even more exhausting to me than studying for chemistry. And my writing would not be as good if I were lying as it would be if I were telling the truth. So, to spare me being even more tired and to spare you reading awful writing, I am going to be honest; I have had a bad week. Tennis ended, forever for me. Other things in my life ended. I got sick. And so it goes.

If I did not have school pressures and the fact that I am a senior and skipping two weeks of school would inhibit me from graduating, I would have (I guarantee you) bought tickets to Italy and spent two weeks developing new hobbies and writing. But, that is not how things work, and sometimes you just can’t do what you feel like doing, hah. And I mean going to a school the size of your pinky finger doesn’t help much either in times like these [this is where I remind myself only a few more days until fall break].

The most anyone can hope for when you feel like running away is a safe place. A place you can go and complain, fall asleep, share your true feelings and know that the people there will have your back. In my friends, Beth, Carrie, Kellyn, and Brittany’s apartment, they have a sign made by our other friend Emily that says, “Safe Place.” They hung it over their door. Whenever anyone starts to share something, someone always points to the sign and says, “This is a safe place.” It always makes me laugh, and this week I am more than overjoyed to know that this safe place exists. I mean, I don’t know any other place that allows someone to just walk on in whenever, eat some licorice (sorry, guys), fall asleep on their chair whenever, leave past the time they go to bed, or have people in it htat make you laugh when you feel like crying. I very much appreciate this safe place, and all of the fun times that are had there!

Thanks, ladies, for making a bad week seem not so bad.

He Maketh No Mistake

It is so easy to try to control life and think you know what’s best. At least that is how I am. I can very easily start to worry too much or analyze everything or start to simply do whatever I want before praying about it. This is especially the case when there are situations in life that I want an answer to now; when situations in life start to seem too big to handle, I just try to think it through and worry the situation down to death. It’s almost as if I think worrying and carrying the burden of possible what ifs and planning out any complicated conversation or event is easier than just releasing it to the God who knows more about it than I do anyway. I know this is not true. Believe me, carrying burdens on your own is hard, and you can only do it for so long.

Why then do we worry when we know God is in control? God does not make mistakes, and I believe that He has each of us where He wants us. He knows what He is doing, so why don’t we just trust? Even though we each have pasts that prove that God really did know best, that is still not enough for us. I would never in a million years guess I would be in the situations and circumstances that I am in now. Never, ever. In fact, my friends and I were just talking about the crazy paths God led us through to get to where we are now. Not the road any of us would have perhaps chosen to take, but He knew what He was doing. He did not make a mistake.

The night before I was going into sixth grade, I suddenly became a little nervous about entering into this new school without being able to go to school with my mom or sister anymore. I remember walking down to talk to my mom that night and expressing my concerns with her. She pulled out this journal that she had since she was a student here at Huntington. Inside it was filled with quotes she had collected. She pulled out a poem and told me that God is not going to lead me astray and that I don’t have any reason to be worried about my future as a sixth grader (looking back I obviously think that entering sixth grade should never be a big deal, but at the time, it was). The poem is called “He Maketh No Mistake.” I will never forget the poem and that night. I keep that poem with me and read it whenever I need a reminder that I am not in control, He is. Because sometimes in the midst of a winding road or potholes of confusion or doubt, or when all logic tells you to give up, we need to be reminded that He is leading us. And sometimes, going through the potholes and the rough roads lead us to a most beautiful sight, but we would never make it to that sight or notice its true beauty if we didn’t hit those potholes first.
Here is the poem:

“My Father’s way may twist and turn,
My heart may throb and ache,
But in my soul I’m glad I know,
He maketh no mistake.

My cherished plans may go astray,
My hopes may fade away,
But still I’ll trust my Lord to lead
For He doth know the way.

Tho’ night be dark and it may seem
That day will never break;
I’ll pin my faith, my all in Him
He maketh no mistake.

There’s so much now I cannot see,
My eyesight’s far too dim,
But come what may, I’ll simply trust
And leave it all to Him

For by and by the mist will lift
And plain the way He’ll make,
Through all the way, the dark to see
He made not one mistake!”

That next morning when I awoke to get on the bus for the first time and go to this new school, the fear was not necessarily gone, but I remember feeling like this was right. I remember waving goodbye to my mom when I got on the bus and feeling like a tear was going to come out of my eye. I looked up in the window and a sticker that said “Guardian” was on it. As soon as I read that I knew that God was with me there and He was my guardian. Of course, the sticker was of the company who made the bus, but still, it was the most comforting sign for me. Sometimes I wish I could have as much faith as I did when I was just ten years old.

To go along with that, one of the greatest things about my life is that I have great friends. A few weeks ago a bunch of us were doing homework and talking and spending much needed girl time together. As I began to update them on the happenings of my life and expressing the worries about decisions and changes that were coming to me, Chelsey interrupted and looked at me and said, “Erica, how much are you trusting God right now?” I paused and then said, “I guess I really am not trusting God.” And then she looked at me, smiled and said, “God is good.” And as soon as I began to wonder again or doubt she gave me those same words. She is right. Trusting God means not asking questions or worrying. Then she told me that I needed to be praying seriously about this. I told her and the rest of my friends that I had been, and once again Chelsey stopped and said, “No. When this happened to me I went off several times a week and spent tons of time praying and listening to God about this.” And it hit me again. Trusting God does not mean doing nothing. It means praying and listening. And some things in life are just too big and too important to just be a bedtime prayer; sometimes they need those hours spent alone with God.

Thanks, Chels.

So, I ask you that if you happen to think of me anytime this week to pray for me and the changes occurring in my life. Beautiful, though they are, they still will require prayers. And of course to continue to remember that wherever you are in life, God does not make a mistake and where you are now is where you are supposed to be.