Many of you already know the concept of the hero's journey; that is, the idea that all literature--and for that matter, all of life in general--follows that pattern of the journey. There is "the call," which is, ostensibly, the beginning of the journey; there is the threshold--literally, crossing over from the known into the unknown; the "challenges or trials," a.k.a. life's little problems or dragons to be slain, "the abyss"--when you think the whole world is against you and nothing will ever be right again. Once you get past all of that you move on to "the transformation," or in other words, the "What have you learned, Dorothy?" moment, "the atonement"--how have you made peace with what you've learned or become, and finally, "the return" (with a gift), where you come back to the only place you've ever known a changed person with a host of knowledge/skills or wealth to aid in all future endeavors.
Basically, all of literature revolves around some schematic of this journey, and if you think about it, all of your lives do too. Especially at this stage of your high school careers. Some of you have lived lives and seen things you never should have, never wanted to or never thought you would, for better or worse. All of you have been through problems and overcome obstacles and persevered. My question this week is--how? How did you do it? What type of mental, spiritual, physical, or intestinal fortitude did you need to have in order to emerge victorious from your journey? What was the journey? Did you embark upon it willingly or were you pushed? What did you learn? Did it change you? For the better? Or worse? Did you have help, or "guardians" as they say in Journey jargon? Tell me about it. (400-450 words/50pts)
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Nothing really terrible has happened to me yet in life and I hope it stays that way. However, there have been some problems that I have overcome throughout the years. I always overcome my problems by looking at the brighter side of things and trying to make the best of everything. I always tell myself that things can get better and everything happens for a reason. The phrase “everything happens for a reason” plays a big role in making a lot of things okay in my life and gives me an explanation of why some bad things might happen sometimes.
A journey that I have gone through in my life was beginning middle school. It was the first time that I would be changing classes by myself and having my own locker. A lot of responsibilities came with it. Teachers would no longer remind me everyday to turn in my assignment or hunt me down to make up a test. There were a lot of things I was unsure about and had to get used to. Middle school as a whole was an unknown for me. Challenges I faced was adapting to this new environment. I had always gone to school but school was never like this. I had arguments with girls over stupid middle school gossip, I got in a lot of trouble with teachers and often found myself sitting in ISS with the same kids everyday, and didn’t really care about my school work. I really believed that the whole school was working against me and did not like Davies at all. This was the abyss when I just could not wait to get out of there. My transformation occurred when I began my 8th grade year. Hopefully this would be the last year I had to stay in middle school. I could see the light at the end of tunnel and slowly kept moving toward it. I wanted to graduate and I decided to turn my whole idea of school into something good. I began doing my work, staying out of trouble and I respected my teachers. Ms. Serbeck, my 8th grade reading teacher really changed my perspectives on a lot of things. I guess you could say she was something like a guardian in the sense that she guided me in the right direction when a lot of teachers truly thought there was nothing that could make me better. I decided that I like the new me because it would take me much further in life and if that’s how I had to be to get out of middle school, I would do it. I finally got the gift to graduate and that day was amazing. The diploma I got was something very important to me but not as important as the lessons I learned in being a better person.
This past summer of 2007 my father had to go into the hospital. He got very sick and this made me very worried along with my family and his friends. Every day he had to lay in that uncomfortable bed very sick. This made me feel sick as well. He went in and out of the hospital because the doctors couldn’t get rid of the infection and messed up on the surgery. Every other week or two he would come home for a day and we would soon have to bring him back. I visited him everyday and gave up my summer to hope he was better. This made me so thankful for my good health. It made me very cautious of my health and made me think of life as a new thing. Now he is better and I thank God for him getting better. I had to keep a strong mental and spiritual state of mind and just had to hope for the best. I had to put all my hope and trust into the doctors and nurses in the hospital. This journey came unwillingly. I learned a new view on life and being healthy. And this was for the better, but surely wasn’t for my father because it was such a horrible time of sickness. I had help from my family to keep me strong and hopeful. And as for my father I am sure he had some guardian angels watching over him.
And a journey I went on myself is my whole school career. This isn’t such a bad thing, but caused me lots of stress. I always work my hardest and keep a strong mental state to get the best grades I could. I am pushed to participate in school, but I chose to embark on in AP classes and Honors classes. Everyday I learn new things and come to appreciate different things. My journey gets harder every year where classes get harder. School doesn’t really change me, but I do feel good about myself when I get good grades and everything. These things will help me with my life and help me a lot when it comes to college and my career and life. And my “guardians” of this 11 year journey and 10 years left are my family and friends. They always help when they can and constantly push me for the better. Overall, everyday can be life changing and I hope nothing to terrible will happen. I take everyday as it comes and am just thankful for everyday I live.
I agree with Deanna when she says how her life changed when she entered Davies or middle school. Everything came with new responsibility and being responsible with my work. My journey all started in middle school like Deanna. I was scared about getting to classes on time and handing my work without forgetting. New teachers every period and new people in every class was also strenuous. Everything was full of stress and just plain crazy. I have many years of school behind me and many years to come and just have to stay strong. Classes became harder and more work keeps pouring into my book bag. But this will prepare me for the future and I am willing to take more journeys in life because life if full of journeys.
This probably isn't going to be too personal because everyone already knows about this already. And right now I hope to clear up something that happened to me so it can finally be put to rest, by me and by everyone. So here we go...
For the past two weeks Mr. Lockwood has forced me to be one of the Talents on Falcon TV. The jobs of FTV rotate when you're in Media every week, but it just so happened that my job stayed the same. I didn't mind being Talent SO much... it was better than being like audio tech or something, a job that I would hate because 1. that machine is impossible to use, and 2. I would be messing up all of the time and I know we wouldn't finish the show. The only thing that I really didn't like was seeing myself on TV during homeroom because that just felt weird. That was besides the fact that people forgot to white balance the camera a couple of times (media "jargon" for making sure the lighting is right), in which case I looked like a purple oompa-loompa. But I didn't really care too much about that. While we were filming, I was never really too nervous, but as I was watching it in homeroom I was probably one of my hardest critics, remembering a time I didn't read exactly what was on the teleprompter, or a word that I messed up. Mr. Lockwood is probably the only critic harder than me. For anyone who doesn't know, that man is a total and complete perfectionist. I swear, he is never happy no matter what. So this probably made me a little nervous. But just a little.
So then that fateful day came. I was sports anchor that day (it was a Friday and was going to be my last day as Talent for awhile because we were switching jobs) and I thought that it was definitely my best day. I didn't skip over any words, I tried my best to sound enthusiastic and exciting, and overall, I thought I did good. So, I went to homeroom and no one was really watching (including me, because I hate watching myself), so I went on to 3rd period. As soon as I got in there, I noticed that all of the guys especially, were commenting on how good I was on FTV that day, or how they only watched FTV today because of when they saw me. Naturally, I was happy and all warm and fuzzy inside and thanked them all. But that was before I found out that people thought that my navy blue shirt, sticking out of a white shirt that I had on top (WHICH WAS CLEARLY A SHIRT) was a bra. Basically, that week was a mess. Mr. Lockwood freaked out on me even when I told him it was a shirt. He said he didn't care and that it mattered to him what it "looked" like. He also was kind enough to mention that teachers were coming up to him saying that the clothes I wore were inappropriate and that I showed too much skin. When I yelled in protest that it was a shirt (for the millionth time that day) he told me "no, they've said that even before today." If I'm anything, I'm NOT a slut. I don't wear low cut shirts to school! Danielle even told me that her Constitution and Law class had a whole debate that Mr. Shiner brought up on "why it was wrong that the blonde girl on FTV was wearing inappropriate clothes." It felt like everyone was talking about it, and all I wanted to do was go on camera the next day and announce to everyone that it was a shirt. But Mr. Lockwood said no.
After this dramatic wardrobe malfunction, I am happy to say that I'm completely over what happened. At first, I made the mistake of broadcasting my protest to everyone and yelling and screaming that I'm not a dirty whore. This probably just made everything more dramatic, and it took a lot to make me realize this. This probably wasn't a "life changing" experience, but it made me step back and examine what's happening out of my body (something I never used to be able to do before.) Danielle and I were actually talking about it during our gym period that day, and she was really being a good friend and telling me that everything was going to be ok. John Shute was actually the one who made me think. When I was telling him about my dilemma, he said, "So what if everyone thinks you were wearing a bra on falcon tv? When people ask you, just tell them "YES! I WAS WEARING A NAVY BLUE STRIPPED BRA ON TV! AND I THINK IT WAS A CUTE BRA TOO!"" Although I didn't TOTALLY take his advice, his point was that I need to just accept what happened and embrace it as funny. The combination of him and Dan were definitely my "guardians." Even Mr. Lockwood had a sudden change of heart and said, "At least you made the ratings go up." From now on, I'm not going to blow things out of proportion more than they already are, and I'm going to learn to laugh. So what if Mr. Shiner had a debate about my "bra" in class, at least it made for a good topic of conversation.
:)
I think that as teenagers, we are all involuntarily thrown from our realm of comfort into the aches and pains of a long journey to find out who we are, and to brave the pressures and expectations of becoming a respectable young man or woman. You can call the transition from the age of twelve to thirteen “the call”. Throughout our teenage years, we encounter many little “challenges and trials” as well as a few big ones. And, of course, you can’t forget “the abyss”. The stereotypical teenager is always portrayed as an angsty adolescent convinced that the whole entire universe is against them and they will never ever be happy again (get a life). “The transformation”, “the atonement”, and “the return”, however, take longer than the other things, depending on how stubborn you are.
I picture my journey as a long term one. It’s hard for me to see a journey in one little event or happening because they haven’t been that complex. Personally, my journey began when I was twelve or thirteen. I was pushed into a world where I was forced to figure out why things happen on my own. I guess the first trial that I can really remember was when my dad went to Iraq in the sixth grade. I was so scared for him, and also fearful of the possibility of not having a dad anymore. He was supposed to be there for at least six months, but I’m certain that he had “guardians” working on his side. He was home after four months. But without him, was in the abyss, dealing with peer pressures and the petty problems that come with being a new teenager. This definitely changed me, but sometimes I am unsure whether it was for the better or for the worse. I learned to appreciate my family more and realized the harsh reality that other kids in my situation may not have been so lucky. On the flip side, I was kind of angry that he was gone, even though it was not his fault, and in reality, he was doing something honorable. I guess my dad’s journey affected mine.
Now that I’m older and more mature, I can see my previous attitudes and actions as unreasonable and childish. Instead of relying on my emotions, I rely on my spirituality to get me through whatever trials may come my way. My “transformation” and the origin of this reliance on God came from my church splitting in two. There was some trivial disagreement between beliefs of how our religion is practiced- basically, one side thought that there couldn’t be a woman pastor, the other thought there could. At the time, I didn’t go to church, but when my parents heard of the split, they started going. I quickly formed friendships with the small amount of people in my church and even met my boyfriend. Ever since then, this has been the spiritual basis for overcoming any troubles and giving me a positive attitude toward my journey. I guess I figure that if all this good stuff started happening to me when I began going to church, why shouldn’t I rely on this spirituality? I agree with Danny Lang when he was talking about the support that his family and friends give him to help him along on his journey. We all need this kind of support in order to be successful. Also, I really agree with his last statement on taking every day as it is and just being thankful for every day. This is what makes it possible to endure our long journey.
When I was younger life seemed to be such an easy thing. I would wake up go to school and then come home and play the night away until dark. As I have grown up everything seems to of changed. I now have homework and friends stand afar from my life as it dwindles away in the book of my life. There is one thing though as life went on while I was younger that I never experienced. Something that I never thought would happen to me. It was something that hit me hard, harder than I could ever imagine. That something was, death. When I was about 10 years old my pappy as known as my superman had a heart attack. He had this heart attack while in the shower, which gave me the fear of taking showers for the longest time. But any way, not only a few months later and he had a massive stroke and that was when they diagnosed him with cancer in the brain and lungs. I was so upset and didn’t understand what was going on. My life as I knew it had come to an end. I thought cancer was like a cold and that he would get better as time went on. It turned out that it ended up being the total opposite. It got worse and worse which put him through a lot of pain. I at one point when we went up to visit him got made at him and hit him because he would not get up and play ball with me like he used to, in fact he wouldn’t even respond to me. I freaked out and the worst part was, its not like he didn’t want to, it was that he couldn’t. The cancer had taken over his life and left him there to die. Doesn’t the cancer know he has family, doesn’t it know that his little 10 year old grand daughter still wants to play. Wow I defiantly didn’t think talking about this would be as hard as it is. Any way weeks went on and the trips to see him became almost weekly. Every time we would go to see him I would grow more scared for he did not act or even look the same. It worried me and the worst part was I didn’t not understand. I didn’t get what was going on, I didn’t know. This journey was so hard for me even as a little kid and as the cancer got worse the journey got worse. The peak of my journey was the last weekend before his death. It was the weekend of his birthday and everyone was there to visit. It was like a big party, except in reality everyone was there to see him for the last time. That day to me seems like it was yesterday. I walked into his room right after he was done cursing our the nurse, I always thought that was funny because she would then come out of his room in a fluster. Lol. Then I would walk in. I was always the first one to see him. This time was probably the worst of them all. He looked nothing like he used to and he couldn’t even smile even though I know he was smiling on the inside. That whole week I had been making him something for his birthday. I was so proud and couldn’t wait to give it to him. I walked into his roomed with the biggest smile on my face because when I was younger I always believed that smiles always brightened up some ones day. I had made him a card that said happy birthday and it was blue because that was his favorite color. I also made him a car out of wood. It might not of been the greatest car but I thought it was great. See my grandfather loved NASCAR so I thought because he couldn’t get up to watch it I would make him his very own car. I walked in and sat down on his bed beside him. I opened his presents for him because mommy said he couldn’t do it him self. She told me he burnt his hand so it hurt to touch things. When again in reality he couldn’t even move them. I opened them for him, and by now I hadn’t gotten used to the not responding thing so I just talked, and some how knew he was listening. I told him I loved him, and wished him happy birthday. He lifted his hand and touched my face and I didn’t know why but everyone else in the room began to cry. I made me upset too. Then faster then the speed of light everything change. The bed began to shake and all I can remember is my aunt grabbing me off the bed and taking me into the other room while everyone was screaming and crying and running around in a panic. My grandfather had had a another heart attack which caused the convulsions. I didn’t know what was happening at the time. The next day came and I went home. I was excited to go back home and go back to school because the next day in school was our talent show. I couldn’t wait to see it. The talent show came and I was walking down with my teacher when I saw my dad in the Hess lobby. I was excited to be picked up. every kid got excited to be picked up from school, right? Wrong, my dad walked me out to the car and sat me down. He had told me that my grandfather had passed away that morning. Tears began to fill my dads eyes as they did mine too. I knew what had happened but then again I didn’t. We went straight back up to my pappy’s house but this time it was different. When I went into his room this time he wasn’t there. I began to ask where he was but know one would respond. I soon learned that death hurts. It hit me hard. I felt bad that I got mad at him for not playing with me and I thought I caused it. I thought that he didn’t like my gift that I gave him. It was the worst experience of my life. This journey was the absolute thing I have ever been through in my life and is something I don’t ever want to go through again. The worst part is, is that I know it will happen again, and again, and even again. I cried for days and days not knowing what to do or even what to say. I took this as all my fault. I didn’t speak for months. The day he died was my last day of school. It is something I will always remember and will always be thought of when that last day of school comes around. I miss him and will love him forever.
I agree with Emily. Now that I am older and talk about the story and I understand it more and I think that if it were to happen now I would have a better understanding. I would also have more of a support system and people to talk to about it like friends and family. The older we become the greater of an understanding we have on life. I don’t agree that any one will fully understand every situation but for the most part and the big picture it is comprehended.
Along with Deanna, I haven't had any horrible experiences, such as Devon had with her Grandfather. The only life changing experience is when I decided that I wanted to lose weight and then dropped 10 pounds. Growing up, I wasn't exactly the skinniest girl in class. If you don't believe me, then I could tell you I weighed 120 pounds in the fourth grade. I was completely unhappy with myself and everyday I wished I could be someone else. The wierd thing was was that I never let my weight effect my personality and I had alot of friends, I just couldn't stand to look in the mirror. I still remember the day when I went to Underhill Park with Kelsey Dickerson years ago and a random little boy called me a fat cow and yelled "Moo!" I felt hideous and as soon as I got home, I cried my eyes out. Another time in 7th grade, my friend was introducing me to this guy because he was nice and she thought he would like me, but as soon as he saw me, he laughed and walked away. That day I decided that I wanted to lose weight and I would do anything to be skinny. I started eating healthy and exercising nonstop and pretty soon, I went down to 110. I weighed less than some of my friends that were gorgeous and very skinny. At this time, I was in middle school and I also got my braces off and contact lenses. I guess you could say I made a complete transformation. Even today, I am very self conscience about my weight. Over the summer, it came to the point where I was only eating one meal a day and I lossed so much weight that you could see my ribs. It was sickly and I couldn't stand to be like that. It's like I can't win. I'm either too skinny or not skinny enough. Again, I wasn't happy. My boyfriend and my friends tell me that I'm not fat and should not think like that, but when I look in the mirror, I don't see what they see. I would never come to the point where I would develop an eating disorder, but I just want to feel confident and beautiful. I've come a long way from how I used to feel when I was younger, but I still have my insecurities in the back of my mind everytime I eat junk food.
I don't exactly agree with Joanna when she was told to laugh it off and forget about it. Certain things you can't just put away on a shelf. You have to talk about them and let out your feelings before you have some sort of emotional breakdown. Now that I am older, I think more clearly about my weight and the proper procedures to lose weight, but all those painful memories, I can't just forget. Yes I am more mature now, as Devon says in her blog about herself, and I have learned to accept that those people were just immature and karma will come back at them.
I guess you could say that all those people that have made fun of me are my "guardians." They pushed me to make myself into the better me. I am at a healthy weight (119 pounds) and I am much more confident than I was before. Without them, I would probably still be very heavy and have many forms of depression. It still hurts to look back on all those painful memories, but now I can go up to them and say, "Hey! Look at me now!"
I agree with Danny and Deanna, once I entered William Davies Middle School, my whole life changed. In 6th grade I was really skinny and felt like some geeky girl. I was also VERY quite, more than I am now. That same year my cousin Marilyne came from France to attend college at ACCC. She was a really cool cousin, I was very influenced by her and her unique style. But she wasn’t the only person who changed me by a lot, not only was I quite, but I was also physically weak. That summer me and my family went to Wichita, Kansas and we all went Jet skiing. My cousins cousin Patrick was playing around with me and threw little pebbles at me, I thought it was just a game and I did the same, I threw pebbles at him. When I did, he began to chase me, I ran in the water and tripped, he began to pull my hair and dragged my head into the water, he was literally trying to drown me! I struggled to pull my hair back and hit his arm, because of that he punched me in the face. My nose started bleeding and my right eye started to hurt. My mom rushed to me and yelled at me telling me to hold my head back, but it really hurt. Afterward, I got scolded at and I got angry and stayed in the car for the rest of the day. I cried and cried and nobody would come and comfort me or anything except yell at me. Patrick didn’t get yelled at or got punished, instead I got in trouble and got a black eye for a reward. After that year I wanted to get stronger than I was and more confident. And now I hit harder than most guys do.
Starting middle school I got a little more talkative, but I was still considered the quite girl. In 8th grade I disobeyed my parents and had a boyfriend, that didn’t turn out so well. In a way I made my life worser because I loved some guy who ended up hurting me instead. That year when my parents found out about him, they scolded me, but they didn’t hit me, instead they filled me up with guilt that I had a boyfriend. I felt horrible, that whole year I wanted to have an adventure and find true love, yada, yada, yada. I believed he loved me and that he’d be the only one to make me happy, but that summer in before our 2 months anniversary, he cheated on me, a half a month later, he dumped me. He told me that he didn’t trust me in high school, thinking that I would cheat on him. That whole summer I was completely banned from chating, e-mailing, calling, and whatever my parents could find possible of communication with him. The only thing left was mailing by letters. One day I snuck onto my e-mail, and to see that I was broken. I think that 8th grade was my biggest obstacle, the pain of love with a boy and the pain of love with your parents. I never want to hurt my parents ever again, it was horrible. I managed to get over him with anger and rage, the next time I would meet him, I’d be happier and stronger. I used that year as a life lesson to my next few years in high school.
Currently I succeed in getting stronger and I’ve overcome many of my obstacles yet. The only thing left for me to conquer is high school itself. All the classes, especially AP classes are challenging, but the only reason why I’m taking AP classes, despite the many people who told me I was crazy, is to strengthen my education and take to take a risk to challenge myself. I try pushing myself to reach where I want to be.
Highschool isn’t over yet and it certainly isn’t the end of our obstacles. College is coming up, next adulthood, and then family. The constant pushing from people and even yourself isn’t over, we’re heading towards more trouble as we know it.
(This turned out way longer than I expected…but here it is) I love journeys. Walking through the woods, road trips, camps, hikes, adventures are constantly on my agenda of “what I should be doing instead of being at school.” But also I love the journey of life, of relationships, of growth, of inflection, of trials, and of joy. I’m a pretty reserved person at times but sometimes I can be extroverted. But anyway, the “journey” was more like several hospital visits.
It was seventh grade, right before Thanksgiving, I believe, and my sister and I were rushed to our cousin Justin’s house where we were told that our mom was getting some tests done at Kessler. They did a spinal tap after much arguing with my mom and discovered something, I guess blood, and the doctors rushed her to Jefferson Hospital in Philly. That place is amazing I must add. It came to be that the next morning our dad drove us to Pennsylvania and on the way we found out what a brain aneurysm was. My mom hadn’t felt well all that week and then she finally let in to go to the hospital. It was a miracle in of itself that she even lived to get to the hospital. Some guardians that came to my rescue without me noticing was my aunt Marie, my youth pastor Steve Christiansen, my dad, and my aunt Nancy. It ended up that my mom had this new surgery technique that was almost perfected at Jefferson (only one of two hospitals nationwide that used it) in which they inserted coils from the main artery in the thigh and traveled to the brain where they would fill the bubble the aneurysm made. We got at the hospital around 6 in the morning and didn’t leave until God-knows when. But the whole time I never knew how serious the situation was. I actually played backgammon a lot with Steve because my dad just taught me a few weeks before.
The whole experience was quite scary hearing that my mom might not make it, but I thought she was definitely going to make it. My dad actually covered this one sign in the area where we sat that described brain aneurysms and the statistics that went with them. I don’t really want to bring them back up. Let’s just say they were a lot less likely than I would ever want to know. But my ignorance is what got me through that “journey.” My sister and I love our dad and he always knows what to say, but he didn’t say much about the whole thing. It wasn’t until I got back to school and talked to other people that I realized exactly what had happened. My aunt Nancy kept saying it would be ok and she was doing well and I kept thinking, “DUH! I mean it looks serious but how bad can it be?” I actually mockingly thought that it would be fine if she didn’t make it because I would’ve sworn she was going to without a doubt. But when I reconnected with the world I started seeing the situation in more perspective. The guidance counselors at Davies took me out of class to ask if I was alright with what had happened and if I needed some time to stay out of school. I still didn’t understand why they said that. My pastor talked with my mom before her surgery so I knew she would be ok. I was content with at least thinking my mom had accepted Christ although I wasn’t completely sure. But once again, my ignorance was the key to survival.
But once I went to see her and talk with her more, I started to sniffle and realize the severity of what just happened. And then I had to kind of stay home and take care of her for almost a year. She had to readjust her lifestyle as did I. I think that I’m writing this much because I still don’t understand what happened. Many people go through serious hospital visits for loved ones and some end up dying. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she died. I don’t even understand what I learned from it. I guess I’m still learning that life is too short at times and can be taken away at any moment’s notice. In the Bible, James 4:14 says, “For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time, and then vanishes away.” And that kind of put my life in perspective in a Christian way. My faith was more or less a passive one until seventh grade. It had its undulations but I think being so close to death and not seeing it reawakened me and now like Emily C said, I relied on my faith more. I know there is a God not because of the miracle of my mom’s life, but because He changed my life. You can argue everything against Christianity but once someone knows Jesus as their friend, your life is in no comparison to His purpose. So once again, as many people said, the beginning of your teenage years is always a journey; mine scared the living ay lights out of me but also showed me who I should be living for. So I guess you can say it changed me for the better.
High school has been the most mentally and physically demanding experience of my life. You have the social aspect of it: the relationships, the drama, the parties, the drugs and the alcohol. (Which I am proud to say I don’t do. Nevertheless, it is still a big part of the high school experience.) You have the studious aspect of it: good grades, participate in activities, take hard classes and get into college. All of this stuff, constantly, every day, week after week, it all builds up. All the stress and emotions and school work. I have learned to deal with it. Weekends are no longer safe havens as school work, band, and social events flood my Friday and Saturday nights. I try to keep Sunday as my revival day and most of the time I am successful. I sleep in, wake up late, eat a large breakfast, lounge and start homework in the late afternoon.
Physically, this wears me down. Often, when I complain that I am sick, my parents comment about how I over exhaust my body. I read an article last year about ulcers and stress in high school students. It was written from a college admissions point of view by the one and only Marilee Jones. Yes, I know she lied and stepped down from her position at MIT since then, but she still did great things and encouraged a easier college application process for all high school students entering college. The article talked about the roots of why students are becoming PHYSICALLY SICK over high school. How they need to over achieve to be accepted to the college of their dreams. How grade inflation is only making this worse. How the use of the common application is not only leading to an increase in the amount of applications a college receives, but also making it harder for each individual student to get into a college. Since I cannot access the actual article (because I did some googling and found it), I will post the excerpt Digg.com used to summarize the article…
MIT's dean warns the quest for perfection "is making our children sick."
She means it literally, snapping off statistics on the increase in ulcers, anxiety disorders and control disorders such as cutting and anorexia. "Kids aren't supposed to be finished," she said. "They're partial. They're raw. That's why we're in the business."
However, I do not type this blog comment to complain. I actually am THANKFUL for everything high school has put me though. It’s only been two years of my life (heading onto a third). I cannot believe how much I have changed. It blows my mind. The friends I have met, the friends I have lost, my metal maturity, my ability to deal with real life situations rationally. Without high school, none of this would have come around. While ask me on any random morning if I love being at Oakcrest and I will respond with a big HELL NO, in the grand scheme of things, it will be one of the greatest experiences of my life. I am often flabbergasted when high school graduates would do anything to go back. This idea seems too odd to me. I will eventually understand, but I do not want to wish to go back in time and relive my high school years. I want to continue to make my life just as exciting, as tiring, as demanding as my high school years. By saying you wish you could go back, you insinuate that the times you are living now are not good or at least not comparable to your high school years.
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I agree with Emily, mainly because out of the 10 or so comments posted I seem to relate to hers the most. I think Emily’s relation of life as a teenager and beyond to the literary terms used to describe the journey in a story fit well. Every journey, no matter how complex, has a obvious backbone of the few terms. In my opinion “The transformation” comes later in life, possibly late 20s early 30s. “the atonement” and “the return” could be aspects of the journey that are completed at a ripe old age.
Life is one big journey. All of the obstacles I have overcome in my short 16 years of life are simple stepping stones for the creation of my journey. It is still just approaching its first bend. These stones were all, individually, journeys in themselves, testing my abilities of dealing and reacting to any possible situation that was presented. When asked how I have earned these stones to walk over with ease, I honestly do not have a simple answer to explain. It is a mystery I am still in the process of discovering. After all, isn’t that the beauty of life? To pick just one overcome obstacle would be like picking one coin out from a fountain of all of my wishes. All were placed, thrown in, or plopped in at different speeds, different directions, different times, and for different reasons. However, each coin rests at the bottom of the fountain’s floor with its own value no better or worse than the other one resting beside it. Speaking broadly, I can guarantee my eyes have witnessed sights I never thought imaginable, my ears have eavesdropped on conversations I can never permanently mute, and my mouth has uncontrollably spoken out words I can never take back, yet, if given the opportunity to erase any of this, I would refuse in a heartbeat. For whatever way my body chose to react to certain situations in my life, all reactions were made for some significant reason when looking at the big picture, or, in this case, the long, winding, bumpy, smooth rode ahead of me. When faced with a difficult, almost impossible, dilemma, I do not think I dealt with one the same way as any other problem prior. I look at each new obstacle in my life as a whole new experience I must learn from. I learn from all of my mistakes; however I believe making the same exact mistake twice is impossible. You cannot be faced with an issue, feel all of its attached consequences, overcome it, and take that experienced knowledge and simply apply it to the next problem that pops up in your life without any extra thought. Each stepping stone you are handed to connect to the others, adding to your road for the never-ending journey of life, must be handled and treated with importance and not just quickly placed on the ground with the others. Every mistake I have made in my life has all happened for a reason that one day I may, or may not, find out why in the future. Many mistakes are similar but most are new, bringing out new emotions and thoughts I never thought I’d obtain. Seeing an opportunity to overcome certain obstacles has been taken differently numerous times. Usually, I willingly confront my situations in life with a strong attitude, though I would be completely lying if I said I never had to be forced into dealing with one. It’s scary. Beginning the process of conquering an issue that seems too tall to jump over always makes me very apprehensive. However, with the help of others around me, those who care about me, and/or those who simply have been through what I am about to undergo, encourages me to not give in and step back. No matter what, no matter how hard, no matter how unbearable at the time, I make sure I never step backwards throughout this on-going journey through life. Accepting help from my surroundings is a key element to my survival of some of the worst situations of all my 16 years.
I understand completely with what Devon S. meant when she said how when she was younger everything seemed easy. I know I have overcome obstacles as a young child, though being able to compare tying my shoes to a death in the family is, personally, too difficult to even comprehend. Each problem thrown in all of our faces is not meant to crush us and burry us into the ground. They are meant to help us grow and continue on with our main journey. I don't want to separate the easy problems to the hard because at one point, all were equally hard, it's just that by overcoming them, I am able to grow and approach the next situation at a different level mentally.
I’ve had a few hard experiences in my life, but each one seems tougher than the next. Looking back, they could’ve been way worse. After my parents split when I was in first grade, my mom moved me and my sister from EHT to Brigantine. I thought I was going to die. I was the shyest little kid and I wouldn’t talk to anyone. It took me about two years to have a solid group of friends, who I grew extremely attached to. I never wanted to do anything like that again. Unfortunately, I had to…and it was a million times worse.
My mom didn’t want me going to AC or Spirit for high school so our only option was to move. I was set on Mainland. I knew a pretty good amount of people from Northfield and Linwood and I was sure that I would end up there with a few of my closest friends. However, that didn’t work. We couldn’t find an affordable house that we actually liked. That was when my mom started checking out Mays Landing. I honestly didn’t even know that this was Mays Landing. I just called it “around the mall.”
I promised my friends that we wouldn’t grow apart and they promised me that they would help me through my tough times. The first day of school, I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. The only people I knew were the cheerleaders and I didn’t have the balls to talk to anyone else. No one took the time to talk to me because everyone from Mays Landing assumed I was from Mullica and everyone from Mullica assumed I was from Mays Landing. From then on, everyone thought I was a stuck-up bitch because I didn’t talk. I’m still trying to convince people that isn’t how I am at all.
It wasn’t a journey that I was willing to take but I’m glad I was forced into it. It’s helped me become more open and friendly with people who I don’t know .…or at least I’m trying. I feel like it’s helped prepare me for college. By moving twice, I’ve had to make some changes. I can’t act the same way around people I’ve known for 9 years and people I’ve known for 9 hours. I know so many people who haven’t had to go out and meet new people all alone without someone there for you 24/7 and I feel like they’re at a disadvantage.
Of course I had support from my family and my friends back in Brigantine. It’s different without them and I still miss them a lot. We didn’t keep our promise to stay best friends past freshman year and we aren’t nearly as close as we used to be. I have met some truly amazing people that have changed my life. I’m not upset over the fact that I’ve had to move twice and that in two years it’s college. Daniel Lang, a very wise man, once stated, “I am willing to take more journeys in life because life if full of journeys.”
I forgot to comment on someone's blog, so I'm commenting again. I think it needs to be said that my experience that I posted was a lot different than the experiences a lot of other people had that they posted. Erin, I agree with you that in your situation and a lot of other people's that posted too, you can't laugh THAT off. I think the reason why my experience needs to be laughed off is because I made a big deal of it, and forgot that there are people out there had way worse things happen to them than me, especially in Devon's case.
If you're from Mullica you probably know all about my little "journey." Although, looking back its not really as big of a traumatic journey as I thought it was. I guess, like Deanna, I've never really had something horrible happen to me. At least not something I can truly remember. I mean I've had people in my family have cancer, like Devon, but I was so young I don’t think it really changed me. This event in my life, however, changed me. Thankfully, it was for the better.
I had four best friends all through the good old Mullica days. We did everything together, honestly. I don't think people ever saw one of us without the other right next to them. I thought I could count on ALL of them for anything. And I absolutely thought that when we got into high school things would still be exactly the same. Then, one of them, who had been there for me since third grade, did a complete turn around in her way of living and behaving. She started doing drugs and stopped caring about the people she once called her best friends. She found a new group, which is really weird for me to say - Mullica didn't really have groups. There aren’t enough of us to separate from each other. But she and her group separated themselves completely from us. We tried to make things better with her, let her know we were still there. Then one day during "recess" (yes, even in 8th grade we still went outside to "play") she came up to the three of us and started screaming. Next thing I knew, she was choking my best friend and pulling her hair. Typical girl fight. You would think that the other two of us would do something. But we honestly just stood there in complete shock. Finally we snapped out of it and pulled them off of each other.
For the next months that followed, she did everything to turn people against us. My best friend and I nearly got kicked off the bus for the rest of the year for "vandalizing our seats." Obviously, it wasn't really us that had written up and down the seat cushions. Rumors were flying around about all of us, things that I couldn't even imagine doing.
Most people tried not to get involved. But I'm not sure if they still didn't believe some of the rumors. I hated my 8th grade year. I started messing up my relationships with my family. I would come home in the worst moods and just take everything out on them. One day, I got in a fight with my mom and I told her I hated her. I will regret that forever. She left and stayed with her sister for a few weeks after. I knew I hurt her more than I could ever imagine. I was being completely selfish. My family had helped me so much and I was showing them the thanks they deserved.
Looking back, I shouldn't have let it get to me as much as it did. That is what I learned from my journey. People will talk and some people I meet probably won't even like me from the beginning. I shouldn't let it get to me. I haven't since 8th grade. Every once in awhile I'll start to feel that emotional break down that teens get when they hear rumors about them. That’s when I just think of how much more trouble it will cause me if I let it phase me.
Thanks to a lot of people I finally got through it. I guess since there were three of us going through it together it was a lot easier. We stayed by each others' sides 24/7 and stood up for each other no matter what. We spent our weekends at each others' houses, making more memories, even if it felt strange not having the fourth person there to share them with. The people who didn't get involved helped too. Knowing that not everyone in our school was dumb enough to forget everything they knew about us and believe a bunch of ridiculous lies floating around really helped us believe that things would get better. Eventually things would have be normal again. And they are. Every once in awhile I see my ex-best friend. I don't not like her or anything; it's kind of like passing a stranger on the street. We're completely different people than the people we were back in Mullica. I, for one, and happy that I am. If we stayed friends and I followed her down the path she chose I most likely wouldn't be the person I am today and that would be a shame.
I had the best weekends visiting my grandparents when I was younger. My grandfather was funny, crazy, and stubborn. He would give his friends everything but take nothing in return, no matter how hard they try to repay him. When my grandparents took our family out to dinner, my mom and my grandfather would have a half hour argument about how it is not necessary for my mom to repay my grandfather, but in the end my grandfather would win and he would not take the money my mom tried to shove down his throat.
Every Saturday, at 10am, I’d have recreational soccer on Hickory Street. My grandfather would come to the dumb games of 6 year old kids running around on circles trying to kick the ball in the right direction, especially me. He would set up his plaid lawn chair but never sit down. He’d walk up and down the sidelines cheering and limping. His limp grew worse and worse each week. At the time, I didn’t notice, I just thought he walked funny. My mom, on the other hand, would repeatedly tell my grandfather to go to the doctors to make sure there is nothing seriously wrong. Being stubborn, my grandfather said that he could tell that he was alright. Alright was not good enough for both my parents so behind my grandfathers back, they set up a doctors’ appointment and practically kidnapped my grandfather. The doctor ran tests and the dreadful news had finally surfaced. Pancreatic cancer had taken over the body of my hero. When I heard cancer, I didn’t think of anything bad, I thought of the flu. I was wrong, terribly wrong.
As the morning Saturday games continued, I’d begin to see my grandfather in his lawn chair and not walking around. After he began his chemotherapy, my grandfather was missed on the sidelines by the other grandparent supporters and by me. I saw my mom explaining my grandfathers’ condition to his friends and our family and everyone was shocked, but I couldn’t understand why. There was no inkling that my knight in shinning armor would die before he could attend my graduation from high school, college, and wedding. I thought that the one person in my life that would be there for everything that I accomplish would be my grandfather.
As my grandfathers cancer spread through out his body and his appetite dwindled and my grandparents moved into our house. My grandfather parents took over my bedroom with the queen size bed, and I was stuck sharing a room with my brother, at least I got a bed to myself. Each morning before school, I’d take my grandfather his pills and give him a hug and kiss. It was a Thursday, and my alarm clock did not beep. My mom barged into my brothers’ room and said that we had fifteen minutes to get ready and out to the bus. Joe hogged the upstairs shower, so I ran downstairs and I, surprisingly, was completely ready before my brother turned off his shower. I ran out to my bus, and as I was halfway there, I remembered that I forgot to see my grandfather. I didn’t worry about it too much because I figured I’d see him when I came home. As I walked of the bus I noticed my moms’ car was missing and my dads’ company truck was home. I thought that maybe my dad was sick, but as I walked inside my front door the house was dark and my brother was crying in the kitchen around the peninsula. I did not ask what the matter was, I just stated, “I need to go see grandpop!”, but as I finished the phrase, I realized that I couldn’t see my grandfather. I began to tear up, but I remembered my grandfather telling me to be strong, so the tears were wiped away and I said, “Is this a joke?” My father replied, “Mom and grandma witnessed grandpop loosing his breath and within minutes he died.” I automatically thought, “Why couldn’t they have called someone? He could be still alive! He died in my bed? How will I be able to sleep?” I stared at my dad and said, “Ok.”
My family couldn’t understand why I never cried over my grandfather dieing, but I repeatedly told them that he told me to be strong, and that’s what I planned on doing. As years passed and still no tears were shed, I realized the pain my grandfather must have endured and the emotional heartbreak my mom and grandmother must have went through. I thought of me loosing my dad, and a mist took over my eyes. Still, no tears were shed.
Then, one night, I walked into my bedroom and sat on my bed. Of course the sheets were changed and new bed spreads were put on, but the fact that my grandfather died in my bed, was hard to over come. I lied down in my bed and fell asleep. In my dream, my grandfather said, “Be strong,” and when I woke up, I began to cry. For the first time since the death of my grandfather, I cried.
After I had the dream, I went down stairs and hugged my mom and told her about the strange dream, and she embraced me and smiled, “It was time, he knew it was time.” As my mom comforted me, I felt a sense of guilt come over me. I thought that I should have comforted my mother better then I did. Yes, when she cried, I gave her a hug. When she saw something that reminded her of her dad, I distracted her. She needed to be comforted that way, but she also needed someone who understood what she was experiencing. She was my “guardian angel” during this time, and I believe that I was hers.
I believe experiencing a death in the family at a young age helped me to understand to not take things for granted and to live life to the fullest. If one of my friends is going through a tough time, related to sickness in the family or anything else, the fact that I had to comfort my family, gave me practice to comfort others, regardless the situation.
Like Devon has mentioned, being young and experiencing the stuff that we did, made it easier to deal with. Not knowing what cancer was at the age of six or seven, helped me to not dwell on the subject of cancer. I dwelled on the subject of the death long after it had occurred but, not knowing whether my grandfather suffered at the time helped.
What is a journey? Journey as defined by www.dictionary.com is any course or passage from one stage or experience to another. So is life a Journey?
Growing up my mom has always been a single mom. At the aged of six my mom delivered my baby sister, who I loved and cared for so much being that I was the last born until she came along. Since I was the only child around with my mom that meant I had to take care of my younger sister. My mom for so many years worked two jobs to support my younger sister and I, because I’m sure you constantly hear your parents complaining on how it is so expensive to raise child. Also my mom was and still is the type of parent that wants the better things in life for her children so she strived. Anyway, I lived in Brooklyn, New York and if any of you guys have been there it is not the best environment for children to stay in. Many robberies, rapes and kidnapping can occur there, and many children are forced into becoming brigand to “fit in” with the society around them. My mom worked at nights and she worked during the day. So at night at the age of like seven years old I would stay home with my one month old sister. It was the worst experience ever, at times I wouldn’t sleep because I always had the fear that someone would come and kidnap us while we were sleeping, so I figured if I stayed up I would be able to hear the intruder and call the police station before they could get us, and at other times I would make sure I was sleeping before my mom lift so I would feel a sense of safety.
Okay to make a long story short I was put through obstacles as a kid that I overcame with the help of God watching over me. To tell you the truth I don’t believe without him I would have made it. There are plenty of parent that leave their children for not even up to an hour and they’re children are either found dead or missing but with the protection of God on my side I was able to overcome many things, such as one time when my sister woke up in the middle of the night throwing up blood. Without him giving me the knowledge and courage I wouldnt have been able to make it.
They journey that I was faced with as a child makes me today who I am. I am very responsible and sometimes even come of as being a “mom”. I can be put through anything and will not back down if it is something that I want to really do (like pass your class Bunje!) and overcome. So that is my journey and I am sure as life goes on I will be faced with plenty more to make me a more stronger and wiser individual.
I really agree with Michael when he says high school has been the most mentally and physically demanding experiences of his life. When you enter high school it’s a whole different society on its own. People show their real colors, you lose and gain some friends and so forth. In my opinion, high school is only another part of life that’s needs to be completed to build who we are and make you wiser individual.
“Everything happens for a reason.”
That cliché is one I base my life around. I have always believed that there is some unforeseen reason for everything that happens in our lives, whether good or bad. From bad times comes something good. Almost like the saying, “When one door closes, another door opens.” I see every difficult time merely a stepping stone for something better in life. In tragedy comes a sense of unity. For example, the death of a loved one always seems to bring families together, despite their differences they may have, which is a good thing. They are forced to reconcile and move on with their lives. I believe that there is a reason for this.
Like Deanna, I found it hard to describe anything terrible that happened to me. Fortunately I have been extremely lucky thus far. Many of the bad things in my life are happening now or have recently happened that I’m still working on overcoming, which is why I found it more appropriate to discuss a falling out between my family. This happened about two to three years ago. My mom’s brother married a woman who has been jealous of someone for something every day of her life. That’s just the way she is, and we had come to accept that and just try and look past it. She never quite knew what was family appropriate- she was incredibly strict with her children, wore inappropriately cut clothing to family gatherings, drank like there was no tomorrow, and often picked catty little fights with other members of the family. But all that we tried to look past for her benefit. After she had done some unforgivable things however my mom found it impossible to just stay quiet. My parents and my aunt and uncle tried talking things out, but nothing worked. My uncle was, and still to this day, is in denial of what his wife does to other people. She had always had a short fuse when it came to her temper, but my mom and I were about to discover the exact length of that fuse.
My mom and I were in ACMoore, the craft store buying some scrap booking supplies, when my aunt and my younger cousin, who was about ten at the time, walked down the same aisle. My mom acknowledged my cousin and asked her how school was going, then my aunt felt inclined to be “nice” to me and ask me how school was going, but couldn’t look me in the eye. We parted our separate ways until we were checking out, my aunt began, out of no where, yelling at my mom. My mom, being the bigger person asked her to wait until we left the store to start speaking her mind. What was to come was something we never would have expected. Almost as if my aunt had expected to act in an immature manner, she told my younger cousin to go stand behind this stack of crates so she couldn’t see what was going on. I stood next to my mom, which happened to be between my mom and aunt. The look in my aunt’s face will be something I will never forget, she was so angry over not getting invited to my sister’s last birthday party . My mom stated that she was unhappy with the way my aunt carried herself and thought it would be better if she didn’t come to my sister’s party because the drama was unnecessary. My aunt went on to, in front of ACMoore in broad daylight let me add, slap my mom across the face and threaten to kill her. I had heard and seen enough. I pushed my aunt out of the way, grabbed my mom’s arm and dragged her to the car. I remember telling my aunt that she was being an excellent role model to her young daughter, who was in tears. I told her to never step foot near my family ever again until she got help. I definitely think that telling her these things in person as this was all going on helped for me to emotionally deal with the situation that has plagued our family ever since. My grandparents cry, to this day, over the fact they can’t have all their family together because my aunt can not get along with anyone in my family. It’s ashame that one person has caused so much stress in my family, but I have learned to cope with it. My cousin and I have had long talks about it, which definitely helps to get my thoughts off my chest.
Although I was forcefully pushed into this situation, I feel that it was for the better. It has strengthened me as a person and made me realize that no matter how much I may argue with my mom and say that I can’t stand her, deep down when someone goes after her, I back her up in a second. This was something that at my prime teenage, hating-my-parents years made a huge impact on my outlook on my relationship with my parents. It has also taught me about family and the blindness of love. I never want to succumb to the level of blindness that my uncle suffers from, ever. This became more of a journey to find myself and my true morals and wants out of life. It served as a reality check and made me appreciate my mom even more. I couldn’t have overcome this experience without the help of my mom and my cousin who listened to me rant and ramble about this. From this bad experience came something good, unity among myself and my mom. I agree with Gary and Emily C about relying on faith more in difficult situations. I have never considered myself a religious person, but I guess believing so strongly that everything has a purpose does show a strength in my faith. My friends and family help me in difficult situations all the time, and for that I’m truly thankful. No matter how difficult a situation may be that I will face in the future, EVERYTHING happens for a reason.
I have been planning on what I was going to write this blog on for quite some time now. I've experienced a lot of journeys in my life, from my journey from a shy, introverted, painfully self-conscious little girl into the happy extrovert I am now (for the most part, except when I'm angry or upset, which is when I revert back to that self-conscious girl), to my journey from a timid and unsure rider to a timid and unsure but slightly older rider (no that was a joke. I have grown so much as a rider since when I first started, but that is a totally different journey than the one I am about to get into).
Anyway. Those have been triumphant journeys, shining moments in my life I know I am always going to hold close to my heart. When I finally had the guts to just throw off the burden of being so agonizingly self-aware all the time and just be the fun, outgoing person I am, it was like I came out of the closet or something. I just really emerged as a whole person, and I am really happy with who I am now. (Of course, this is not all the time. I can still get very reserved when something is upsetting me, and I do disappoint myself sometimes. Such is life. But I am, for the most part, more comfortable with who I am now.) Then there's my horseism accomplishments. Example: I was terrified to canter (it's like galloping to give you all a general idea, it's the fastest of the three main gaits of the horse) for my first three years of riding, let alone take a simple cross-rail, and this summer I jumped my horse over a four foot three fence. It was amazing, and the single proudest moment of my life.
But reading Felicia and Devon's blogs brought back really painful memories of a journey I always try to throw into the depths of my mind and not pull out again - ever. But I know I need to. There will be other times for writing about my triumphs. Now is not one of them. I honestly think it was devine intervention that I put off my blog until now, because otherwise what I am about to say would undoubtedly NOT be what I chose to write about. It almost feels like Brill family dirty laundry. Well, dirty laundry needs to be aired. Air-out time.
This is going to be similar to Felicia, Devon, and even Gary's (in a way) journeys in the way it opens. I was a little girl with the world at my fingertips. I was about six years old and could accomplish anything. Unfortunately, one of the first things I tried as a youngster was organized sports. Ha. Ha. Teeball. Actually, teeball's not a good example because teeball was a success. But teeball, safe, wonderful teeball with a tee I could easily hit off of (and they never had to adjust it for me because I was as tall as all the boys) became baseball - SCARY, DANGEROUS baseball with a ball that not only was not comfortably ensconed on a tee, but was FLYING RIGHT AT MY FACE. Needless to say, when I got beaned in the chin by some overexcited boy with a ball and no courtesy for the fact I was a female (I mean, I respect the whole Sesame-Street inspired mantra we all lived by when we were 6 - BOYS ARE THE SAME AS GIRLS - but I mean really. You do not have to be pegging that ball at my face, overzealous 7 year old boy with a hardball.)
What I do love, looking back on the times I was discovering that organized sports may not have been the avenue I wanted to pursue, about that time was that I fully realized how much I love to write. I was just writing all the time at 6, and it was all because of one person - my Aunt Charlotte. Aunt Charlotte lived next door with my great-uncle, Uncle Ed, but she was without a question of a doubt my favorite of the two. When I was about six I walked there for the first time on my own. (I live in the woods, and they lived down a long-ish driveway that connects from my house, so it was a big deal) Aunt Charlotte gently taught me the love of words, most importantly, how much of a love of words I already carried within me. I didn't need Aunt Charlotte's encouragement when I brought my journal over to start writing in it. I just did it. And Aunt Charlotte had her journal too, and she always had something special to write about in her pristine, crystal handwriting. I loved going over there. Aunt Charlotte was quite literally like my grandmother. (I thought she WAS my grandmother till I was like eight. I thought I just had three sets of them.) She was always there to lend a hand, to show me the way, to guide me. And she was always POSITIVE. We would take a break from our furious scribbling (well, her wise old hand was gliding across the page, I was the one furiously scribbling, glancing up every once in a while to see if I could make my hands move the same way hers did) to have a "party," a break with ice cream or grapes or oatmeal cookies. I was over there every week as a kid.
When I started ballet she was right there, always lending a word of support. When I quit ballet she was right there as well, telling me everything would be okay. When I started and stopped baseball, the same was true. When I started and stopped piano lessons she was right with me telling me it was for the best, I would find something else I really loved to do besides read and write. All the while we were writing in our journals, my giant green notebook and her giant red one getting fuller and fuller all the time.
When I started to ride and loved it, and grew and developed as a tried and true horsey girl, she was right there. When I bought my first horse, the same as when I bought my first kitten, and when our family bought what was my first puppy, she was the first person to congratulate me. I grew up and Aunt Charlotte was always giving a positive word, no matter the situation.
Then there was Uncle Ed, to strike the balance of the century. Uncle Ed was what you might call a pessimist. He was always grumbling around (now, I never noticed this when I was really little except for his manic desire to beat me in Upwords, which he always did, unfairly enough, even though I came up with some truly spectacular words way out of most people's comprehension range, but of course Uncle Ed didn't care. Ugh. Okay, back to my story) the house complaining about his back or his neck or his head or his leg or his knee or his aching [insert body part here]. I noticed this more as I grew older, because despite being a very keen little girl, Aunt Charlotte always shielded Uncle Ed's invariable complaining from me, so I never really discovered it until I was about fourteen. And everything changed with them.
In November of 2005 Aunt Charlotte was walking out of sewing club. She was always so proactive, doing those kinds of things at 86. Sewing blankets for the needy and knitting sweaters for babies was a field of expertise for her, something she did naturally without any kind of pretentious-ness. It was just the kind of thing she did. But that day, the only thing different was that coming out of the church hall, a step had been added that wasn't there before because of voting. She tripped over the step and fell, and at 86 this is no small thing to do. She was rushed to the hospital as soon as she got home and emerged with a black eye and heavily bandaged hands and a leg. She would not be able to sew for several weeks.
But strong Aunt Charlotte was unscathed. She told us all to stop worrying. She would be fine. We checked up on her for a couple weeks, and the bandages came off. She went back to sewing again.
The summer I turned fifteen I worked for Uncle Ed. He is what you might call an insane person when it comes to being the taskmaster. He compiled lists, he stood over me in his stooped maniacal position and criticized every brushstroke I made when I painted, he yelled, he delegated. But I kept at it, because 1 he was my great-uncle and I love him, 2 my dad had to do it when he was little boy, too, 3 i kept the mantra th-th-th-that that dont kill me can only make me stronger, and 4 I needed the money.
But the thing I noticed most as that summer progressed was not Uncle Ed's manic desire to kill me through painting the trim on his whole house and then paying me $12 for it (another story entirely), but the change in Aunt Charlotte. Rather than the motherly, always-a-kind-word-to-say great-aunt I had always known, she became this recluse. It was horrible. She was like a butterfly going back into a cocoon. She started to complain, which I had never heard her do before, about unspecified illnesses and aches and pains she did not feel. I told my parents, and when they did not take it to its full seriousness (I knew, I KNEW it was serious.), I told them again. And they believed me and started taking notice.
I quit working for Uncle Ed in August not because his harsh taskmastering was becoming too much. Frankly, I was just starting to enjoy it and get used to it - the manual labor part of working for him, that is. But it was too painful to watch what my favorite aunt had become. She was a lump (in a vain attempt to add humor to the situation my family started referring to her as the CharLump) that never got out of bed. She was complaining. She was guarded. She was miserable. I had never seen her like that before, my strong, wonderful aunt, and I was horrified.
It was a downward spiral from there. Aunt Charlotte was never diagnosed with clinical depression, but we thought that's what it was. Something had switched in her brain, and my mom started spending long hours with her. She was afraid of dying, she was saying things I had never pictured my Aunt Charlotte saying. I thought she was fearless. I was terrified about what was going to happen to her. Meanwhile, she kept insisting on health problems that did not exist. The doctors said at the doctor's office, the doctors said at the hospital, that she had no health problems and for 86 she was in as perfect physical condition as one could expect to be, minus a wound somewhere - I think it was her leg.
Doctors now, in her post-death closing analyses, in their polite final words, think it was dementia. Whatever "it" was, Aunt Charlotte died on a Monday in October of last year. I didn't cry.
When I think of Aunt Charlotte now, I think of the Aunt Charlotte I remember. Pre-dementia. The kind, generous, heart of gold, sweetly worried woman I admired and respected. She taught me to love writing, and that has made me into the person I am today. Her experience has taught me to live my life to the fullest and go after what I want.
It was like Felicia's moment. I didn't cry at my Aunt Charlotte's funeral. I didn't cry when the family talked about her in the weeks after. I wasn't upset, honestly, I wasn't. I was relieved that the monster who had taken over my strong aunt had finally been laid to rest. But several weeks after all of it had blown over, or at least, after it stopped being the first thing on everyone's mind, I thought about the woman she had been before dementia. And I cried. And everything was finally at peace.
January 6, 2002 I lost my best friend to cancer. He was only 63. It was too early for me to have to say good bye to my pop-pop. My pop-pop was always there for me. He was always happy and ready to lend a helping hand. I try so hard to follow his example and be just as good as a person as he was. He was always going to visit family. He was the only person who held us all together and after he passed, that really showed. He would always take me with him where ever he went in his silver Ford escort with the license plate HBO67R. [His license plate was the first and only one I ever memorized.] My pop-pop never treated me like a little kid even though I was. He made me feel like an equal. He always made me feel loved. I remember two things I thought I could not live without and he got me both. One was a Birthday Barbie I saw at Boscov’s after meeting my Great Aunt Dolly for the first time. The other was the City High CD. He got me this for our last Christmas together, only twelve days before he left. It was so hard to see him the way he was. They let him out of the hospital because they knew death was inevitable and felt he would best around the people he loved. He knew what I wanted, and even with his condition he still got it for me. He was the only one who ever spoiled me, and I will always love him for that. I truly admire him. He was a very strong man who had been through a lot and he never let that stop him. He had an amazing sense of humor. There was never a bad moment with him. He was the sweetest person in the world. He helped everyone with anything they needed. From helping me zip up my coat to teaching my whole family how to drive to letting family live with him while going through rough times. I did not and still does not make sense to me why he had to get cancer. It does not make sense to me why he had to go. It does not make sense to me why I had to lose my best friend at such a young age. I was only eleven. I still remember being so happy eating my dinner and my whole family EXCEPT for him came over. Everyone was so sad, but no one could bring themselves to telling me what happened. No one could tell an eleven year old girl that the person she loved most in the world was just gone. The very next day my dad and my mom told me. I did not believe it. I could not. It did not make sense to me why God would take away the sweetest person he had on earth. A person who did not deserve to leave. It was very hard for me to deal with, and it still is. There is never a day I do not think of him. Whenever I drive past a NAPA building [where he used to work] I tear up. I still miss him dearly and it has been five, almost six years since he’s been gone. As far as getting over it goes, I think am still slowly getting over it. When it first happened I could not do anything without thinking of him and bursting into tears. I could not even play a simple car game (something we were notorious for doing together) without crying. Now I can play one without even second thinking it. I know I am not completely over it because I still can not bring myself to go to church again. I think it was a mixture of church being one of my favorite things to do with him every Sunday and I do not know if I could enter the “house of God” after all of the nasty things I have thought about him for taking away my pop-pop, even though I know now it’s just a part of life and it’s no ones fault. I wrote an interminable number of poems for each step of the grieving steps. (I used to write poems to deal with everything) My dad has helped with cope everything more than anyone else. I feel bad for my dad because whenever I get upset about and cry on his shoulder I know he is fighting back tears himself because he lost his father. There is this one song that we both like to listen to that reminds us of him so much. It’s called “Drugs Don’t Work” Ben Harper. The chorus is “Now the drugs don't work, They just make you worse, But I know I'll see your face again.” It is impossible for me to listen to this song without crying. This song describes how everything happened perfectly. I guess that may be and another indicator that I am still not over it completely. My pop-pop always used to tell me two sayings. The first one was “If you wan to fight… join the army.” He was in war and thought fighting was pointless with the people you loved. I completely agree with him. The other saying was “Everything happens for a reason.” I know this is true, and I know there was a reason he had to go. He was suffering from cancer and the only way for him to live without the pain would be for him move on to a better place. A place where he will have nothing, but happiness. I think going through this has made me a stronger person and has greatly influenced my personality. I do not think I would be so appreciative of the things I have today if it were not for this loss. I am stronger because of it since I know I can rebuild myself after such a great loss. So I guess even through I am not completely down with or over this journey, I have still already gained so much from this loss. I know he is watching down on me and will make sure I make it all the way through all of life’s journeys a better person than I went into them.
=)
I always read through everyone else’s blogs after I write mine and wow I never knew Devon S. had also lost her grandfather to cancer at about the same age I did. Death is such a scary thing. I know how she feels and agree with her that even though I know it is inevitable, I do not want to have to go through it again.
I guess like most people, and as Deanna and Erin said, I never had anything so traumatic happen to me. Well, my grandpa died when I was 10, my parent got divorced when I was 11 and I had to move to a completely new school when I was 12. Like Devon, I didn’t completely understand what had been going on, but unlike her, that was why I went mostly unfazed. I didn’t realize until a few years later how much these events had really affected me.
I think my real “journey” was from March of my freshman year to November of my sophomore year. I had anxiety about school, social stuff and friends for pretty much the entire time, with maybe three little panic attacks. It was horrible. I wasn’t myself. Things just culminated and because there were so many layers I couldn’t handle even little things. It was too much. I didn’t choose this journey, but I can’t say I was really pushed into it. My situation was a tough one and after a while I just couldn’t handle it. My mom helped me through it, although at times she could make me feel a bit worse. My mom and God were all I had. I really don’t know how it all started or how I managed to take control of things again. I don’t think my mom knows either. I realized it was a problem, and I think I just got tired of being stressed out and feeling miserable and sick. I wouldn’t let myself get stressed, and pushed myself to just do the things I’d worry to death before attempting them. I tried to just do my homework and projects and I’d try to just talk to people. I tried not to worry about others or what they thought of me. I wasn’t easy. I just had to keep pushing myself and refuse to give up. I had to set aside my emotions and just trust that God was going to get me through it. My situation changed a lot, too, and things got better and started to look up. I also started to believe in myself and tried my hardest to be more confident in myself.
I can’t believe how much I learned from this experience. As hard as it was, I’m glad to have gone through it because I’m a much different person than I was before. I learned a lot about myself and about people in general. I learned to be more confident and to relax. I learned to be friendlier and not to worry about so much. I think all these things enable me to be a better person. I still have bad days occasionally (hint hint) but I can deal with them better and they happen much less often and have much less of an impact on me. I’m still trying to work on being friendlier and more relaxed, but it’s a much different journey now. Life itself is a journey, and I’ll keep waiting to see what happens next.
Where do I start? There has been so much that has happened in my family that it is almost demonic. Luckily, I wasn’t directly involved in most of the horrifying instances in my family. I honestly don’t know where to start. I guess I should probably just keep everything private considering people may not even want to know me anymore. It all started before I was born; an incident that changed my family forever. I was born into the situation and unfortunately I’ll never know what my family was like before it happened. I honestly don’t know how I’m mentally, physically, and emotionally healthy, but I would have to thank my mom for that. My mom brought me up sheltering me from this demon that haunted our family as much as she could. Instances would come along when I would be exposed to horrifying things as a child and seeing my mother handle the situation with such courage and strength and a clear mind, I knew nothing else but to handle situations with the same attributes as her.
The first half of my life dealt with disgraceful and upsetting things that I can’t even begin to explain. I lost my grandfather to lung and brain cancer, the only grandparent I was close with (It was really encouraging to know people in the class have lost their grandparents to cancer. Cancer is such a scary thing especially when it’s hereditary, like breast cancer, which my grandmother died from before I was born). Eventually my parents got divorced and I moved to New Jersey with my mom. Things were looking up. I was getting involved in sports and community activities and those involvements came with new friends that would last till high school. Then, there came middle school and all of its peer pressures and change. On top of being a rebellious young teen, I was going through my dad remarrying along with a new sister and counseling from the family issues I dealt with when I was younger. Life was hard then, for both me and my mom. I guess this was my first journey I had to embark by myself. I wasn’t going to listen to my mom about what was right and wrong; I had to figure things on my own by making mistakes and taking risks. I eventually came out to be a better person. My mom was always scared that she was going to lose the real me forever. I honestly think that the journey I went through in middle school and the journey I went through as a young child has really made me a mentally and emotionally stronger person. These things that happened to me, I wish I could change, but I can’t. In a way I’m glad they happened because who would know if I would be the same person I am today.
First of all, I believe that I have been on quite a few journeys. Everyday seems like another journey filled with problems and obstacles. But, usually I try to resolve my problems before i go to sleep. I hate going to bed feeling like I've let someone down or something along those lines. I just hate that feeling. I've had quite a few problems recently all because of a miscommunication, but that's done and overwith. At least for me it is. I don't want to elaborate on that situation, so i will choose a different journey in my life.
Well, about eight years ago, my parents were getting a divorce. As you can imagine, I wasn't all that thrilled about their decision. They would constantly argue and that would make my brother and I very upset. We would just run into our room and close the door. We didn't want to hear what was going on. For almost a year they would argue and everytime, my brother and I would run into our room. Over and over and over again. I was really unhappy. I hated it when i was dragged into an arguement and i felt like i had to decide who's side i was on. My mom's side, or my dad's side. I didn't really understand what was going when i was eight years old, but i did know that one of them was going to be moving out. Once the divorce was final, my dad moved out. I was mad. I didn't want anyone to move out, but i knew that was the best way. It took a while to get used to my dad not being there. However, my home was much quiter. There was no more yelling. I guess that was the only benefit from the divorce. The negative sides of divorce are endless, especially the fact that my dad lives two hours away in north jersey. Luckily, he comes down to south jersey to work so i get to see him maybe twice to three times a week. Sometimes i even sleep over his house. It's not a bad deal, but it's the best that could outcome from a divorce i suppose.
After going through that whole ordeal, I felt stronger, mentally. If i could deal with my parents arguing constantly, and my dad moving out; i felt like i could have delt with anything. But once my dad got married, it felt like i had a second mom. Usually a step-mom is really mean, but in my case, she is really nice. SHe cooks really well, and was born in Italy. Also she has a son, Daniel, who is one year younger than me. He's pretty cool and we get along good. I guess, in a way, my parent's divorce was a weird way to meet new people. Although i wish that the divorce never happened, I feel that my life is better because of it. If i had to live with parents that hated each other, I don't think i would have turned out the way i did. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and this situation is no exception (even though divorce goes against my religion).
Journeys are something I have been on during my high school experience. I have seen things that I hope others don't have to see. I have seen lives sink like a large ship. Your on board, you see a little water come on. The ship sinks a tad, nothing big you'll be floating again. Not quite, more and more water comes aboard; the ship begins sinking as what it seems to be at a steady rate. The thought enters your head, but still you think some force will save the ship because that’s what happens in all good stories. Next thing you know your neck deep in water and the ship is sinking faster and faster. Not even the hand of god could stop this nightmare. Everyone knows that when a ship, especially a large ship sinks, it brings everything around or on it down with it. This is when I finally decided to swim away. Just in time...my life continues but still I am stuck with the vision of this great ship that once sailed so proudly, now resting in the bottom of the sea.
The journey of getting away from this changed me. It had to, I had no choice. But it changed me for the better. There was no guardian to guide me; it was something I had to do all by myself. I figured yes I would leave something, someone I cared for but I could still find a bright side of things. Also since then, I have also experiences some things that everybody should experience. For the last year I have been on a journey with my girlfriend. Yes there are downs, but the ups erase anything bad that happened. This journey has kept me happy, and made more optimistic about things. I guess you could say my girlfriend has helped along this journey considering the fact that "Love is a two way street." All of this though will help me in life, it could possibly help me with others in these situations or help prevent them. Life’s a rollercoaster and I am strapped in just enjoying the ride till the end. I want to end this with a nice quote, to show my feelings on what to think on a bad journey.
"If life seems jolly rotten,
There's something you've forgotten,
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feeling in the dumps,
Don't be silly chumps.
Just purse your lips and whistle.
That's the thing."- Monty Python
I agree with Mike H that life is the most mentally physically demanding experience. He makes good points about the social, studious, and dealing with no free time. It's the same for me, but the work we put in now will make things easier later in life. I also like how Mike uses an example from Marilee Jones. His response was very insightful and speaks the truth for most high school students.
At first when I read this blog, I was like “great, I have no idea what the heck I am going to write about.” I mean, yes I have had loved ones like Devon die of cancer and yes, I have had a family member who we wern’t sure was going to make it after a major surgery like Gary, but I do not really want to talk about those things because it will bring up bad memories that I have tried to suppress. Another thing is I do not like to get too personal with these things. I am not exactly too fond of sharing my life’s most personal details with everyone who sits in Ms. Bunje’s AP Language class. So I started reading some of the blogs to get some ideas on some not too dreadfully personal topics. Leslie’s first line really made me think. “Life is one big journey. All of the obstacles I have overcome in my short 16 years of life are simple stepping stones for the creation of my journey.”
I completely agree with her that Life is one big journey and that things happen for a reason. Everything trial and tribulation that we as teenagers go through, help us grow up and learn to accept the fact that life is not always fair and we are never always going to be happy. So now for my journey. My journey has to do with swimming. Who would have guessed? Well almost any athlete can tell you they have had “those days”. “Those days” when you are trying your hardest, but just can not seem to perform to your abilities. Well I don’t just have “those days”, I have “those years”.
Back during freshman year, I was all excited to finally be able to swim for my school and show people what I am capable of. I went into the swim season with a positive attitude. I was ready to work hard and I was ready to kick butt. The season started out alright. I was producing some decent times, well decent for me at least, and I was swimming pretty consistently. Then something happened. At the Mainland meet my 100back was faster than it had ever been. I was really happy. Little did I know, but I had just broke the school record and qualified for states. I found out later that night while I was laying in bed about to fall asleep when the phone rang. It was my coach and she was calling to tell me the exciting news. Making states as a freshman was a pretty incredible feat. Most seniors in high school can’t even say that they went to states. Well anyways, you would think that it only got better from there, but you need to guess again. After that race I started adding 2 seconds, then 4, then 7, then 10, and so on. I was crushed. Here I was a 14 year old who thought she was going to have a great season, who just qualified for states, but who was now doing nothing but adding time. I had a hit a wall. I trained harder than I had ever before but I was still adding time. As I look back now I was being quite curmudgeonly at swim meets to my peers after backstroke and I shouldn’t have been. It was not their fault that I now sucked. Anyways, went to states, added the most time I had all season, came in last, balled my eyes out for about half an hour, and was at a swimming all time low. Or so I thought.
After high school season is done I still swim for another team and the team competes at nationals. Well. Let’s just say I added time in all my swims which after 4 days added up to be 10 events plus relays which made it 14. Yeah, you get the picture. Wasn’t a happy camper. Even now writing this, I can remember how much I felt that I failed myself and that I was worthless and that I should just give up and that I should quit cause I was a failure at life (at that time if I was a failure at swimming I was a failure at life because swimming pretty much was my life).
I swam a lot over the summer hoping to drop time that high school season and remake states so that I could prove myself and to prove to everyone that I was not a failure. I don’t think that I wanted to prove it to everyone else as much as I wanted to prove it to myself. I needed to be like “ok, you sucked last year but you beasted this year so it’s all good.” That didn’t happen. Not only did I not drop any time last year, I failed to re-qualify for states which only made me feel worse about myself. Nationals kinda sucked too. Fast-forward to now. Cause I am quite frankly getting tired of typing plus I have to leave soon so I need to wrap this up. I am going to go into this season with a better attitude than ever and try not to mentally defeat myself this year. I do not really know if I embarked on this journey willingly or what. I guess I did because it is my choice to swim thus I put my self into that situation. I learned that no matter what I do, I need to stop taking it out on the other people around me because I am ashamed of how I would act when I got out after a bad race. I also learned that Life is never fair. I thought after having such a bad freshman year that I couldn’t get any worse and that I would finally drop time again. Obviously that didn’t happen. I think this whole experience has changed me for the better. I am learning to brush bad swims off and focus on the next ones. Maybe because I’m getting used to adding time, or maybe because as a coach this summer I had to set an example for the younger swimmers. My coaches and friends tried to help me, but I think I was so upset with failing myself that I was ashamed and I ended up pushing them away when in reality I should have been ashamed of how I treated them. My journey is not one that has ended yet. Currently freshman jeannie is still faster than junior jeannie in the 100back. That is going to change this year because there are a few changes I would…no more like AM going to make to the record board.
1123 words =]
The mental anguish I went through during my heartfelt journey was like going bungee jumping for the first time being scared of heights. I spent half of the day preparing my mind for what seemed to be a plunge into the depths of hell. Every step I took brought me closer to the cause of my mental suffering. My stomach churned with nothing to settle it, for I did not eat breakfast this morning. I felt as though I needed to go to the nurse. It filled me with glee at the fact that I would be able to put off my demon for an extra period. The clock was moving faster then I had ever seen, as my time of judgment was approaching. There was no stopping it though. It is either I face the demon now or at a latter time, where my pain will be twice that of what it will be today. Finally, my judgment time had come. I needed to face facts here and know. I felt queasy as I approached his office. The door was cracked open just a hair, but enough so I could hear he was on the phone. A quick sigh of relief I still had a few minutes to relax before the phone conversation was over. “Click!” Oh no, a wave of anxiety covers me like the sand being washed away from a beach after a typhoon in the Philippines. “Is there something you wanted, Blake Carlton?” asked the raspy voice of a well known band director. To my fear, Mr. Tobias finished his conversation. I slowly turned to him, knowing well that my question would surely be the death of me in his eyes. ”Mr. T, Nick and I are going to Stockton College to see a presentation on the Holocaust.” “You have to do what you have to do, Blake.” He stated. My heart fell from my chest into the depths of Hell, where the devil surely poked a hole in it through the main artery.
I’m going to comment on Gary’s post. Gary does have a point when he says that he enjoys the physical journeys of life like most people. I do too, there is nothing that I would like to do more than go on a hiking trail or just walking to the mall from school. Nothing makes me happier than wandering around for hours with a couple of friends.
I'd say that this blog is quite appropriate, considering my coincidental occasional paper topic. As you Mrs. Bunje and my classmates are aware, I've been through things that I never wish I had experienced, ever. My journey through Hell has been my entire life. I'm not saying every waking moment was torture, but what I am saying is that the place you're supposed to feel the most comfortable and trouble free is your very own home, your own room. That's obviously not the case for me. Ever since I was a little girl my mom and dad were having problems and even up to this day, this very moment as I'm typing this my dad is still having conflicts with his ex-wife. I don't feel alone in the sense that my parents are divorced and I have no one to talk to because let's face it, we all know at least ten kids with divorced parents, so of course I can relate to a lot of my friends, generally. My situation is a little different as to where my dad has been married and divorced twice and he always gets screwed over. A divorce is a hard thing for a kid to go through, even when they know that their parents would be better off apart. Up until this day I will never forget what my mother and stepmother have done to me to hurt my father, and me but I really think those experiences have made me into a much stronger person. Family is supposed to be there for you, to raise you. To go your softball games or watch you sing in a concert, to know your favorite foods and to know your best friend's name! My mother doesn't. But whatever her logic is behind that doesn't matter to me anymore, although it once did. Of course is always going to be in the back of my mind, but letting it affect my friends or Darrell is something that simply cannot happen. Just last night Darrell and me had probably the most intense talk of your entire relationship thus far. All of this nonsense with my stepmother was really getting to me and I really didn't think it was fair to him to deal with all of my problems. I actually almost broke it off with him, which is crazy! He's seriously the person who I can tell anything to, who understands everything I say, who knows even more about me that my own mother and I feel like luckiest girl to be with him. What he does to me is indescribable. Not just romantically, but mentally, to keep me going and living everyday. And I know that the problems with my dad and Beverly are not my fault at all, but dealing with the fact that my father has had his heart out and stepped on over and over crushes mine ten times more and I honestly think that without Darrell I wouldn't get through it. He's really motivated me to not let me ruin something so great and he's absolutely right. Sometimes I get so caught up in stress from school and stress from family that I don't think I deserve him, but after talking about this I realize that isn't true. I need him to talk about these things and letting something that good go is like dropping a diamond into the ocean. Someone that valuable is worth keeping around.
I've never really had a problem with anything in my life. I've never had a big dramatic problem that i've cried in class or cried myself to sleep. I've always had this completely positive outlook on anything. i'm not the one cause drama. i've always had little problems here and there but nothing to cause terrible break up or me loosing a friend.
But I guess I can talk about being a “guardian” for some of my friends. I’ve always loved being around my friends and having a good time. When I see one of my friends down and blue I’ll talk to them to make them feel better. For example one of my friends last year was going through a hard break with her boy friend. She was always said and depressed. So I decided to hang out with her a lot to make her feel better. So what I would do is ask her to pick me up and drive around. We would just drive and look for interesting places to take pictures at and show our friends at school. We found a bamboo forest and we found Asia (the Asian market in Pleasantville.) I always seemed to cheer her up. We talked all the time so I can keep this breakup off her mind. It seemed to work. Like I told her, “its just takes time, but you’ll get through it.”
Another time was this year. Once again it was a boy problem with another friend. Her boy friend had just left for college and they broke up. I used the same approach of getting her to get her mind off of him. We used to hang out all the time. So it wasn’t going to be hard. This one time it was me her and two other friends. We stayed up all night and then went to the beach in the morning to watch the sunset. She now realized that she didn’t need him. She just needed her friends to have a good time. Now she hangs out with me and others all the time. I’ve never really seen her unhappy anymore. I’m good with making my friends feel better. I like helping my friends, I really care about them.
As you can see I’m a very loving person. I’ll always be here for my friends. No matter what’s wrong, I’ll never turn down a friend for help. I myself have never had BIG DRAMA OR PROBLEMS. I guess you can say I always think the cup is half full.
So, it’s 5:05 Wednesday evening and I’m just skimming through different blogs. I realize that everyone seems to be writing about these very personal events that happened at one point in their lives. I couldn’t really tell you exactly one specific event in my life that I had to get through, but I can tell you about reoccurring event in my life. It causes me the most stress in my life, but if it teaches me the most. High School. Everyday is a new journey to embark upon. Every day is a learning experience. So far in my 2 years at the Oak I’ve learned that it's really only worth looking for answers when they're in textbooks, otherwise just let them find you; no matter how impatient you get. High school has helped me to appreciate those of whom I find genuinely bring joy and enlightenment to the many different aspects of my life. How do I get through it? Well, truthfully, I don’t think I handle it very well, but I always get through it. In between Band, work, family, boyfriend, and AP’s when I feel like I can’t handle it all I become a recluse and EVERYBODY can tell. People try to give me advice as to what I should do, but I don’t really see the light at the end of my tunnel until I’m actually there. That feeling of accomplishment is priceless. That’s what keeps me going; that sense of pride in knowing that I accomplished it. “IT” is anything from actually doing ALL my homework in one night and not having to do it 3 periods before to spending 30 minutes with my boyfriend w/o arguing!
I am 17. My favorite color is pink. If I could glue my phone to my fingers I would. Before every band competition I scoff down reeses chocolate peanut butter cups 3 and 4 at a time because it’s comforting. I don’t like cats and my favorite book is the dictionary. I don’t know what you would call someone who is a strong believer of fait and all it has to bring to people, but that’s who I am. If having to stare at Hannah’s head everyday day 12th period is my fait then that’s my fait and I learn that Hannah has a big blonde head. Everything that happens to in high school is because of fait. I try to approach every situation fait throws at me with a positive outlook even the most stressful ones. Fait is apart of the journey. High school is something that at this point in my life I choose to do. Even though it’s stressful and things don’t always turn out the way I want them too I’m always changed for the better. Truthfully I feel like learning is the only thing I’m actually good at and that’s what I do whenever I go through anything. I learn. Like Mike I feel like all this learning has changed me. It really is like a whole transformation.
Ah, I’ve been waiting for this inevitable blog to appear through the eyes of Ms. Bunje. The journey, what is it, where is it, how is it? For me the journey is knowing the system, understanding the system, and ultimately beating the system. Journey is defined as a traveling from one place to another, usually taking a rather long time; trip. This may be the English definition, but the personal definition is vast, vague, and often times incomplete. My journey has definitely begun, and currently under major construction. Over the past two years at the Oak I think I have a pretty good understanding of the system and how things work. A journey takes observation, for it is the key to vision and the eyeglass to the end. But is there really and end to a journey? Sure Lewis and Clark ended their journey and returned home heroes, but I think that it is more fun not knowing what turns, twists, bends, or bumps the journey will take. No matter how prepared you think you are to beat the system, there is always that little exception that slams the door shut. Therefore beating the system is incredibly hard by design, ensuring no one will bet the system. However there are like likes of greatness and skills of leadership that ultimately overcome the system like King, Ghandi, Washington, Edison, and many more. The likes of greatness cast a haze over many future leaders journey and force them to strive to be like them. I know for a fact that everyone in this blog wants to be someone great, no matter the reason. The journey will get you to that point in the first Harry Potter where he is in the chamber of secrets. But only will you and your aspirations get you past the keys, the ivy, the villain, and cast you on the stage of success.
Commenting on Zander’s outlook, it is a good thing to always be the good guy. He says he is kind of like the “guardian” out of his group of friends. I think that this is somewhat suggesting that the journey of life brings about roles and destiny. Maybe destiny is saying too much, but if you believe in it than it is an definite possibility. I used to believe in destiny and all that other stuff that goes along with it, but now that I think I matured and started to visualize what I need to accomplish. I know what I need to do ii just don’t know how to do it. Sometimes it is ok to lean on that guardian for support, advice, or just help. The journey of life brings so much stress and burden on people that it is impossible to do it by yourself. Even the best have a fall back plan.
As of yet I don’t really feel like I have the experience to say I’ve truly overcome real “adversity.” I’ve never been injured more than a broken arm, I’ve had no friends or relatives die while I was really old enough to understand what’s going on, and my family has managed to stay intact over the years. So really I have no particularly hard hitting situation that I had to overcome. It seems to me that my greatest problems have always come from within. I’ve always heard people say that I’m self-confident. Self-confident. No not really. People just always mix up my being well spoken with confidence. I’ve never really felt too good about myself personally. I will often find myself worrying that my looks and personality just simply are not good enough. That’s one of the main reasons I’m so firmly stuck being single. I often find myself willing to face a thousand dangers but if I had to convince myself to go beyond flirtation with the opposite sex, and actually put myself on the line, and make a move, I just can’t urge myself to that point. I just have never felt like I have the fortitude. At times, I border on paranoia with how others see me. Even though it wasn’t really mean hearted my thoughts will still keep going back to that “perceptions” thing Bunje had us do. It seems like the phrases “self-centered” and “fun to be around when you’re in the mood to deal with him” have been haunting me everywhere I go. Even though there were some positive words, these are the ones they lay heaviest on my heart.
Today was one of those days when it felt like the standard high school garbage was getting to me the most. In a combination of feeling like I was wasting all my learning on trivial pursuits and all of personal emotions on hopeless desires. As I told a couple people today, I continuously felt the sudden urge to walk down to the front lobby, kick open the front door and just start walking. I just kept imagining feeling the rain splatter down my back as I walked further and further away from everything I knew until eventually I just found some place where I could feel like things were different. To see the road slowly rise into gentle hills as I leave this God-forsaken state, and then to see the hills shoot up into mountains, and see rivers and valleys strewn amongst all the parts of this scene, until eventually the land drops off into the pacific ocean. Through a combination of the day’s different elements this urge to leave felt completely insatiable, but of course my common sense held me back I guess you could tell that I did because otherwise I wouldn’t be at home writing this blog right now.
In the end though, despite feeling so insufficient I suppose I have no right to make huge complaints. I understand that this doesn’t quite fit the current assignment, but I really don’t feel like I could. It’s still early enough in my life that to consider the journey anywhere near completion feels like a blasphemy to the truth. I’m 17… this has all just begun. I don’t know what my life is meant to illustrate or what I am meant to learn. I guess if I already knew the moral of the story there would be little reason to keep turning the pages. From what I’ve seen so far though, there are certain things I know I need to have if I mean to stay afloat in this world. Ephesions 6:11-18 says "Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having girded your waist with truth, having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God; praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, being watchful to this end with all perseverance and supplication for all the saints...." I don’t know how I could do this without God. Honestly, He is the only one who can hold on to me when I’m feeling this helpless. And if I follow him, I know, I KNOW, that I can make it through anything this life throws at me. I can face any demon, and overcome any obstacle, no journey is to great, no foe is to big, to stop me from doing what I need to do. And surely then I too can find peace in this society.
Sorry I forgot to comment on someone elses blog so herr it is. I agree with Jonanna's conclusion about her "bra" problem. Sometimes life throws you problems and things that may seem completely unfair, but you have to make the best of those kinds of situations. Laughing about them is sometimes the only way to let things go, so I agree with Shute on this one. Laugh it up!
Once upon a time, there was a wonderful, fabulous, beautiful girl named Courtney. This wonderful, fabulous, beautiful girl loved horses and the equestrian sport. So one day, at the tender age of 11, Courtney decided to embark on an incredible journey into the world of horses, hoping to come out the world's greatest horse-rider.
The first leg of the journey was to find a farm and a trainer. Finding herself at D&D Stables in the mystical land of Buena, Courtney began her riding journey. She quickly learned how to properly saddle a horse, using such magical gimmicks as "Left, Elastic, Last" when girthing. Mounted for the first time, the young heroin surveyed the land beneath her from the 14.3hh steed. She had made the first step.
Unfortunately, with the first mount eventually comes the first fall. The incredible Courtney, now able to daringly move at a trot, mistakenly placed her foot in the position that told her steed to go faster. The steed shot out at a fast canter, scaring the heroin to tears. Destiny soon took over as the great Courtney realized that after such a tragic event, the young girl was able to stay on!
The seasons changed, and Courtney realized she needed a new trainer. This was the next leg. On a hot summer day of the next year, the great Courtney tentatively stepped onto the dusty floor of Hidden View Farm, scared and in need of a restroom. Little did she know that it was there she would meet Bold Advantage.
Life with Bold was rough. The wonderful Courtney fell off the horse 13 times and had to get back up each time. With each mouthful of dirt, Courtney learned more and more about the nature of horses, and eventually became certain that her future simply would not exist without horses.
The journey changed Courtney. She learned many things, like better ways to stay on, or better ways to land when she does fall. She did, at times, need some pushing to get back on from her guardians- her trainer, Sue, her mom, and of course her awesome friends! (shout out laina!)
She now faces a dilemma: She needs a new horse. Will she find a new horse? Will she go to an equestrian college? WHO KNOWS?!?!?!?!
When Darrell said,
"The journey, what is it, where is it, how is it? For me the journey is knowing the system, understanding the system, and ultimately beating the system."
I just couldn't help but think that would be a kickawesome line for an opening monologue in a scifi/thriller movie. I need to remember that one, could come in handy.
When I look at all this, despite the fact that some of this stuff is really bad, I can't help but feel that we're all still pretty blessed. A couple of weeks ago I had to preach at Ancora, so I had t in that time look into the eyes of all these insane people. And it just made me feel so petty for the things I complain about. I could say more about these peopl, but am srongly considering using it for an occasional paper so I'll hold off somewhat. I guess I'm just trying to say that no matter how many things we've all undergone that have tried our sanity, at least we can have the joy of being able to say that we have held on to it to some extent.
Well Ms. Bunje, it’s quite simple really, I just do it; no matter what it takes and no matter what it is. My philosophy is that if you have to do it, you have to do it, so it’s best not to complain, just get it done. Mentally, I need to be strong, but that’s not hard because mentally I’m as hard as a diamond. Spiritually, I don’t need anything, I don’t believe in god or religion for that matter. Physically, I need the strength to pick myself up when I’m down and the power to drive forward no matter the obstacles or obstructions. Intestinally, I need courage and tenacity to keep driving onward even when the road is rough and the future is hazy. More important than the above however is willpower and resolution, without those nothing will ever be achieved. You ask what your journey was as if the journey is over, but for all of us the journey has just begun. Life is nothing but one large journey, so I can’t answer what my journey was or even what it is for that matter, because I have no idea. For me life has just begun and I surely can’t tell you where it is going to lead me. It is impossible for anyone to have embarked upon their journey voluntarily, because no one chose to be born; you can embrace the journey however, and I surely do embrace life. I don’t know what life will teach me or how it will change me, but I do know that the change will be for the good. Any change that is made in the life of a sensible man is a good change. I surely will have help in my journey because I never reject help; there is nothing wrong with getting help when you need it and sometimes you just need help.
To comment on Zander’s comment, I think it may be good to be a loving person, but for the most part I’m not. I’m a very rational person that doesn’t really take emotions into consideration. I believe in the good of the many over the good of the individual and an eye for an eye punishment.
I couldn’t decide what journey I should do in my life. I could have easily chosen a soccer story but I tell enough of those and everyone gets sick of listening to me talk about soccer. Instead I took a journey that I have been traveling through for a long time and will continue through it probably for a couple more years. Many people not consider this a journey, but my Great Aunt Christine is my journey. For anyone who already knows stories about or has met my Aunt Christine, they should understand the journey I am talking about.
My Aunt Christine just recently on October 21st turned 94, and every year will celebrate her birthday on that specific day. I can always remember going over her house after a Rec. soccer game or taking my homework I had and finishing it as we sat around her television, then ate cake and ice cream, and sang happy Birthday, and let her open her presents. Everything in her life is always the same. My mom and I everyday Saturday take her grocery shopping in Hammonton at Super Fresh and every time she gets the same food and every time it takes us a minimum of an hour in the store.
Basically, she is like another child in the family. She lives at her own house luckily and soon as my dad puts an addition to our house she will move in with us, but besides that we visit her everyday and take care of her everyday. Her husband died eleven years ago and she never knew how to drive. Like I said early she is like another child and we have to take care of her and make sacrifices for her as if she was a child.
She expects my mom and me to do everything for her and she doesn’t seem to understand when we are busy that we can’t just stop everything and do it for her. Some how though she always gets her way. Some Saturdays I have soccer games or some type of practice and we still go shopping with her after. There have been times where we have had to reschedule or make our trips on Friday or Sunday. Last year we had to start lying to her. One weekend I had a soccer tournament and we weren’t able to go grocery shopping and the weekend after that we left for North Carolina for soccer. The first weekend we told her the truth and said I had a soccer tournament. And she made a comment to my mom like “you are always running Rachel around for soccer.” So the next weekend we told her we were going to NC to visit my grandparents and visit some colleges. We left out the part of me playing soccer just so she wouldn’t get angry and start complaining.
I have plenty of funny stories I could say about my Aunt Christine but there are so many because I have been on this journey for eleven years. But I have no doubts in my mind there will be plenty more years and plenty more funny stories in her life that I will experience. Whether it is of her seeing little people in white walking on her counter in the morning when she should be sleeping. Or hearing music being played when there is no music to be heard. Or retelling the same story 9072346936249 times and acting like you heard it for the first time every time. Or reasking the price of her groceries five times before she even realizes the person told her the price.
Although, it is a hassle to take care of and make sure we spend time out of our day taking care of Aunt Christine, I have come to learn more patience for old people. The journey was not anything that I have pushed into. Aunt Christine was my mother’s Godmother and we were the only people in her family left to take care of her. She has caused me to accept the fact that I never want to get old but I have learned you just have to be patient and allow her to talk and bit your tongue because she will say whatever she wants and there is no stopping her. It has caused me to become a better person and more willing to help those in need. I have learned that once you get really old you basically turn into a child again. You have needs and wants like a child but the only difference is you become more stubborn and don’t allow the person taking care of you to boss you around.
After reading Devon and Felicia and Emily Brills’s blog they all made me think about when my Aunt Christine might die. When her husband my Uncle Tommy died I think I cried but I only cried because I didn’t know exactly what I was crying for. I think it was best that when he died I was too young to understand and accepted it a lot easier than how I probably would now. No one really mentioned anything about his or her time with an older person they are going through now but I feel that those blogs related to mine the most. I think now that I am older though and if and when my Aunt Christine dies I will cry and truly be affected by the death.
To tell you the truth, I was actually dreading this blog. Usually, I think they’re cute and the topics are great, so I love to type my responses. But tonight, after hearing what the topic was during school today, all I could do in reaction was moan and groan. After thinking about it for quite some time, I realized that it was because I didn’t want to revive the demons that I fought so hard to kill. My journey wasn’t terrible or heartbreaking, and it was probably one that most of my fellow classmates have endured too. And although I don’t really feel like typing it, I’ll tell you the story anyway.
I can’t even look back to 8th grade year. Well, more specifically, the transition from 8th grade into freshman year. That summer was a trainwreck. I don’t think that I have the capacity to go into full detail about the kind of person I was, but to save myself some emotional distress, I was unappreciative. I had the greatest friends in the world, and I took it all for granted. I was overly sensitive, worrisome, paranoid, and jealous. I won’t even start with eating disorder. I think I’ll spare you all of the dramatic stories. You see, I was part of a threesome of friends, but I was probably considered the third-wheel. They had been friends long before I joined in. I realized that too. And I beat myself up for caring too much. It caused me to carry so much emotional baggage, and when I was around them, I couldn’t control it. I guess I brought everyone else down me. One particular day, after a trivial incident that was blown way out of proportion, I totally lost it. My friends wanted to cut off all ties with me. I couldn’t live with myself. It was like, well, falling into an abyss.
After that whole experience, I guess I finally realized that I don’t want to live like that. I mean, I didn’t have my friends. That was bad. But if I could fix my own problems, maybe they would like me again. So I learned not to “sweat the small stuff”. In the end, it worked out in my favor in two ways: 1) I got my nearest and dearest friends back and 2) I became an overall happier person. Today, one of them is my best friend in the entire world, and the other is still one of my closest friends. She’s graduating this year. We don’t hang out as much as we used to, but we can still tell each other everything. I can’t express how much I’ll miss her when she leaves.
So anyway, freshman year was the test. My new personality came into full play. While my older friend was off making new friends, I stood strong. That was probably where our more distant relationship started, but I didn’t really mind that much. “It’s not as if she died and was never coming back, right?” That’s the sort of question I would ask myself. I practiced my new-found gift of optimism and spunk. Today, I still use it. I certainly DO NOT stress out and cause myself depression and regret over the small stuff. The world is better without me causing pain. I would much rather make people happy than upset. In return, I make myself happy.
Interestingly enough, I experienced my “return” today. I unintentionally made my best friend upset with me because I said something with an accidental harshness to it, and she wouldn’t talk to me because of my tone. After it happened, I was really confused because I didn’t think I sounded mean at all. That made me blow off the situation, because I convinced myself that my argument was justifiable. However, I realized that I said it in the wrong way, and she was still upset about it. So, I apologized. She forgave me. Overall, it lasted one period. That’s nothing in comparison to the previous two weeks of conflict that I experienced during that summer. My “guardian” throughout that whole little journey was my mom. How cliché, no? But it’s true. We were never that close before. Suddenly, she was there for me in my darkest moment and had the best advice I could ever ask for. I think that influenced our relationship today. I mean, who else looks forward to Sunday afternoons just so they can go grocery shopping with their mom? I sure do.
When I got to English class today, I had no clue what the blog topic was for this week. So, of course, I asked Devon because she always finishes her work before the due date. She told me that she wrote about her grandpa and it was really emotional for her. My response? “Crap!” After I finished typing, I had my fair share of tears. I think I’ll return the favor and respond to her answer. Since she talked about how to death of her grandpa affected her, and I thought about the death of my grandma. My reaction was not like Devon’s. Honestly, I can attribute most of the apathy to the fact that her death was expected. When that call came, my whole family knew what it was about before the phone was answered. Since that day, which was five years ago next month, I can’t help feeling guilty for never caring about her past. Seriously! She lived during some crazy times in American history, and if I had ever wanted to know about something like the Great Depression firsthand, she would have been the perfect person to go to for answers. I took all of that wealth for granted. In her memory, I want to be like Mr. Cervi when I’m older. He tries to contact as many World War II veterans as he can. I want to do that. I want to be a memory-preserver.
988! :)
For me, my journey consisted of overcoming myself. I’ve always been confronted with problems, but most of these problems have spawned from me being so subservient to everyone around me. I never really think about myself because why should I? I have always been able to find happiness in every situation, so I’ve never had to worry about the problems I’ve had to cope with. Eventually, though, this caught up with me, and these problems grew until they were unbearable.
I then forced myself to have more confidence in myself and not let the people who caused my problems have the pleasure of seeing my disheartened by them. These people helped me to overcome myself by being my motivation. I worked harder at life in general. I started dating girls, a bit too much, and I began to work harder than I ever had before to get myself to have the body I desired. It helped that I happened to go through a growth spurt at this point in my life. I grew taller, a six pack, and defined muscles. I became exactly what I always envied in other people.
This was what began the self-confident person everyone knows today. I looked at myself in the mirror, and for the first time, was happy with the person starring back at me. I guess being happy with myself caused me to be a bit too self-confident, but that’s better than not being confident enough, in my opinion. It helped me to stop worrying about what I can do to make myself better, and it helped me to start worrying about what can I do to make them better. How can I help the people that are close to me? How can I help my best friend to stop crying? How can I help my team? This has caused there to be a bit of controversy towards me. Some people really appreciate and continue to ask me for help, and it’s these people that make me strive so much to start trying to better my peers. I think I’ve been gifted with certain abilities, and that I am lacking an incredibly lot in others. I know I would appreciate it if someone helped me when I needed it.
I disagree with Erin, and I agree with Joanna. We should all have the ability to look at things that happened in the past and laugh at them. Imagine if you tripped in front of the person for whom you had a very strong attraction. If you didn’t just smile and shake it off, then you would be completely self-conscious whenever that person was around. What fun is being self-conscious? I mean once in a while is acceptable, but if you want something, you can’t be afraid to take a chance and put yourself out there. Being self-conscious would do this to you, though.
Like many of the people who have posted before me, I really don't have any huge journey or life-changing experience that has happened in my life. I guess the biggest journey that has changed my life has been a more literal one that emotional.
During July of 2005, I went to Europe with a student ambassador group called People to People. This group takes over 100,000 students a year to various places around the world including Europe, China, South Africa, South America, and even Antarctica. In order to go on a trip with the organization, a student must survive an interview with the regional supervisors, endure six months of training meetings with the people who are also going on the trip, and be able to pay or fundraise the expensive fee of the trip.
The trip I went on consisted of three weeks in Southwestern Europe in the countries of Spain, Switzerland, Germany, and France. Our regional division, which included me and Meghan, met up with a division from North Jersey to make a combined total of 47 people. We left from Newark International and landed seven hours later in Madrid, Spain. After the initial shock, sleep deprivation, and adjustment to the new people wore off, I began to realize that I had just flown 7 hours from home and landed in a foreign country whose native language did not happen to be English with 46 other people whom I barely knew. Within 5 days of the 20-day trip, homesickness started setting in.
Imagine me sitting in a beach towel and a wet bathing suit on my bed in a Spanish hotel at 10 PM trying to call my mom, crying, and my prepaid phone card now working. That was what that night was like for me. As the frustration that my phone card wasn't working built, the more I cried. It was the worst feeling not being able to talk to my mom. Finally, I decided to call her collect. Mind you, I was in Spain. It was just a little bit more expensive to call collect than it is here.
I finally was able to talk to my mom, who was, as usual, very comforting. After talking with her for a little while, I felt like I could take on the whole rest of the trip without feeling homesick or wishing I was with my parents. It would have been really unfortunate if I couldn't get over my homesickness, because I would have missed out on the best experience of my life. This trip really did change my whole outlook on life. Coming back to the United States after three weeks in four other countries, I came to realize how little history our country has. Seeing how these other people live, and how calm they seem to be, it changes the way I see the world, and I really wish sometimes that America was more like Europe in certain ways.
The trip itself did change me for the better. I matured so much, partly because I was traveling on my own (when I say on my own, I mean without my parents), and partly because I was immersed in four different cultures for three weeks. I learned so much about other cultures, but I also learned that I am capable of being on my own. I can survive college away from home, and I truly believe this trip helped me realize that. If I can travel across the world without seeing my family for three weeks, I can last in another state for four years, coming home occasionally. I would not trade the experience I had in Europe, both bad parts and good, for anything in the world.
Oh man! I forgot to comment on someone else. OKay so I really agree with what Darrell said about journeys having already begun, but still under construction. As soon as life begins, our journey starts. As soon as life ends, our journey ends. However, our journey through life can greatly affect someone else's journey. So in some way the first person on earth affects our journey through life, as our journey will affect the last person on earth.
This past summer was honestly one of the most amazing summer's I have ever had. In the beginning, I was out every night. I stayed up almost all night every night, got a little sleep, woke up and went to the beach with friends, and then came home and napped until it was time to start the cycle over again. It was exactly how I wanted the summer to be. It started off great and I really thought it was going to stay that way.
It all went downhill when I went away to PA for a softball tournament. I was excited because it was going to be the first softball tournament my dad attended all season. My parents are my number one fans and although my dad made every regular season game for Oakcrest, early morning Saturdays and Sundays didn't work well with his schedule during the summer season for my traveling team. When he told me that he was coming to my away tournament for four days, I was ecstatic. If there's one person out there that I love impressing, especially with sports, it's my dad.
Halfway through the tournament, my dad started getting stomach aches and wasn't feeling so great. One day he stayed in the hotel room all day just sleeping and laying around. I was mad and upset with him because I thought that he should be watching my games instead. I never realized how selfish I was being until he was admitted to the hospital. My parents ended up leaving the tournament early and racing back to New Jersey to get him into Mainland Division.
When my dad was fourteen, he had developed Crohn’s Disease and spent almost a month in the hospital. Crohn’s disease is an ongoing disorder that causes inflammation of the digestive tract, and although there’s no way to actually rid yourself of the disease completely, it doesn’t bother you all day every day. In fact, it hadn’t bothered my dad since college until just this past summer. When it hit him, though, it hit him hard. My dad , my best friend, my hero, ended up spending two months straight in not only Mainland Division close to home, but at Jefferson in Philly. These months weren’t even cold, lonely winter months. They were during summertime, the time of year when we take annual family vacations and spend time with each other.
Every time I visited my dad in the hospital he looked worse and worse. He was losing all his color and was dropping weight like crazy. Seeing him hooked up to all those tubes upset me more and more every time, and it got to the point where I just didn’t visit him for over two weeks. I couldn’t stand seeing the person I love more than anyone else like that. It hurt worse and worse everyday. I felt so bad about not visiting him, especially when my mom was there all day everyday with him, but I couldn’t take seeing someone that I care about so strongly in that kind of condition. I felt guilty about asking my mom for rides places during the night after I knew she had come home from the hour and a half car ride home.
I definitely had “guardians”, as you would put it, Bunj. My aunts would always come over certain days of the week and cook me food, my friends never stopped reminding me that there was always a place for me at their houses, and even family friends were always making efforts to visit him and the rest of us. I guess this was when I realized how many people cared about me and my family, even when it felt like everything was going against me. I honestly felt like the world was just out to get me. It made me question my faith, “why was God doing this to my dad if he loved him?” and it made me question myself for the way I was acting “why am I out with my friends at two in the morning for the third night in a row when I haven’t even seen my own father in two weeks?”. It was a tough situation, and although my dad is just now starting to finally get his health back, I think that in the end I became a better person. My family was very close to begin with, but I definitely feel like we’re closer now that we endured the journey together. We’re always spending time with each other more often than usual and I love it. I can absolutely relate to Danny's post about his dad this summer, as well. I guess you just don't realize how much you care about someone or something until after they've gone away for awhile; sometimes for good. Even though things were at what I thought was complete rock bottom, in the end it made me realize how much I really do love my family, my friends, and my life. Because “God never gives us anything we can’t handle.”
When I first looked at this I thought to myself what could I possibly right about I haven’t really conquered any real journey in life. But then I then I looked at it again and like Emily C. said I look at life like one big journey not a whole bunch of little ones. Instead I feel as though all the different things we go through like high school are not journeys but obstacles. In these obstacles we learn how to achieve the successful journey that we all will one day finish. When your growing up your journey doesn’t seem as hard because you have a lot of people holding your hand to help you in dealing with your challenges. These people will hold your hand to help build you up gradually to ensure that when your forced to either sink or swim that you’ll be able to swim and not splash around aimlessly. As I’ve grown though your journey becomes a lot harder because no one is going to pacify you and walk you through your challenges you have be able to see things for yourself so you can mature and know when to fight your battles and when to walk away from it. By having to go through a lot of these struggles on your own you are preparing yourself for the greater part of your journey and that is the real world. The real world is a cruel places and you’ll find that a lot of people are not out to see you succeed but to bring you down. As you grow on your journey you will find that friends can either make your journey harder or easier. Recently I have been having a lot of issues with people who are close to me and it’s a little too personal to be bold and post it all like Joanna but you’ll find that it takes a lot of maturity to deal with people especially the ones who you love the most maturely even when you feel like giving up on them and you have to be willing to except the outcome of obstacles regardless of whether or not your happy with it. Your journey will always consist of people who will come and go in your life you jus have to decide which ones are worth fighting for and which ones your probably better off without.
I’m sorry ms. Bunje this is probably my WORSE blog ever but I can’t even really focus I did my best though
The journey of Niah Grimes hopefully has not yet begun because if so my journey is whack. What I’m saying is nothing is holding me back, nothing is standing in my way, and nothing is really a big problem for me. Now if I look at this from another angle I have a lot of minuscule problems that I stress over mainly because my life is so uneventful that I have nothing better off to do! If I picked one obstacle that might be worth writing about it would be my attitude problem. In reference to this blog I have yet to overcome this journey so it cancels that out. As far as my parents I’m tired of being that teen who sulks because they’re mistreated, how five minutes ago. So instead I will refocus my focus on my journey of overcoming my pride.
When I say I overcame my pride that does not mean I have no pride, just that I realized too much of something can never be good in any situation. It all started my freshmen year when I realized I did indeed have too much hubris, or excessive pride, all thanks to Mr. C. Everyone said admitting it is the first step. Well that was step one. Then I had to recognize the appropriate occasions to have pride, step two in my journey. Eventually I learned that when it comes to guys especially any guy who was thought worthy enough to date, you could never have enough pride in yourself. One thing I did learn was that after you got a boyfriend sometimes you had to swallow your pride. Unfortunately I didn’t learn this in time for my first high school relationship. Luckily my new found love and I don’t have these “pride” problems. Pride is only an opinion you make of yourself, everyone knows I highly regard myself as being a precious gem. Yet because I hold myself in such high regards it was hard to accept when I was wrong, or when I to swallow my pride because I needed help. I’m the type of person that likes to try and handle all my problems MY way and by MYself. I learned that I don’t have all the answers no matter how brilliant I am, and there come times when I needed outside help. So through this journey I have fewer problems, and that asking for help isn’t taking away from my pride. I am strong enough to accept when I’m wrong, admit when I need help, and ask for advice.
This may not have been the greatest juiciest journey to reveal but it was one I handled quite well. I think in a year or two I may have a few more journeys under my belt until then I’ll stick with my happy yet uneventful fun yet sometimes boring great life!
Oh and Bunj from what I read unlike Deanna, Devon, Rosy, Brittany, Jo and almost every single person who’s had these mentally changing journeys I expect more my true journey has not yet started.
This is quite an interesting blog for me to read at this time. That is because I just was faced with a great obstacle, well one of the many, and that is another fight with my mom. This time she has said that I will have to start paying rent, will not get my license, will have to pay for my own voice lessons and I have no phone and computer. How am I going to deal with this? Starting tomorrow I will be staying with my best friend Randi. From there I will decided how I am going to handle the situation at hand: Be yelled and screamed at just when I think things are right, or be a maid in my own house and not get yelled at ever. Right now, I don’t know what the better choice is. Right now I feel my journey in life is getting over how terrible my relationship with my mom is. It is the most important thing to me, and it’s being held by that little thread that we can’t exist without each other. I really wish that my mom and I could get along. But it just seems like it will never work. We are the same person, and apparently that means we can never agree. Weird huh? My help on my journey through these little episodes is usually my daddy, my rock. He is away right now, so I really have nothing. No one else understands my situation except him, or maybe my brother, whom I hardly ever see. All my friends think that she will chill out, or she will get over it. But it is the fact that this whole ordeal took place to begin with, and she had the thoughts of making me absolutely miserable that makes it so terrible. It is that I have been crying for so long, and she gets mad at me for it. It’s not necessarily what she says; it’s the thoughts behind it that hurt the most. I feel like she doesn’t even want me here, and that hurts more than anything ever could. I feel like she would be happier without me.
Just like Erin, there are many many times that I wish I was someone else. In fact, everyday of my life I wish I could be someone else. Maybe then people would be happier with me? I don’t know. Life is a hard journey, with little journeys in between. Some make you, some break you. It’s how you come out in the end that decides you. Those little journeys are never easy. If they were, what would be the fun in it? There are no easy lessons.
The journey that has changed my life was the death of my brother and the forced reality that I had to move on without him. This I can honestly say shaped me more than any other single event in my life. The way I did it was by expressing myself on an old computer in my room that barely even had internet, but I did not care because when I was writing I felt as if my brother was there with me and I was keeping him alive through writing. After that I told up my emotions through sports and still do to this day. This tragedy caused every kind of pain imaginable to me including mental and spiritual. As for physical I began to not want to eat and basically not do anything. I will emerge victorious on my journey when the day I go to heaven I can look at my brother and he tells me I lived the right way. I live life not for me, but for both of us. With his passing, his dreams did not die, but became my dreams to complete in his memory. The journey for me is to be successful in a sport as my brother once wished when he was little and to be rich as for when we were little there was a lack of. I embarked on this journey self-willingly because I feel like it is my duty since he was never given the chance to actually do it himself. My brother was taken when he was only four and was never given the chance to explore the beauty of the world and since those opportunities are open to me, I have to take advantage of them. This journey has definitely changed me for the better because I never realized how hard it would be until I reached high school and even looking at colleges and it helped me to step up my game when trying to reach the next steps in any goals. My parents helped me so much through out my on going journey, no matter what it was, the sports aspect or even the emotional and I thank god they did because no matter how much counseling you do there is nothing like your parents being there for you. Although my worst experience impacted my life, I can see where Alli is coming from because I have never met any of my real grandfathers (not due to death), but it never affected me because I excepted that the people who I thought were, really were.
Throughout my life I have been faced with more obstacles than ever expected, and as mentioned, some for the better and some for the worse. I believe that every struggle that has approached me so far and ones that continue to do so are beneficial no matter the positivity or negativity of the matter. In this case, every obstacle one faces upon the journey of life leads only to the victory of a stronger and more defined person.
Although everyday a struggle enters in the way of my clear path, it is somehow difficult for me to think of one. I guess that means sometimes we are oblivious to the obstacles that we overcome in our daily lives. We are continuously gaining wisdom, knowledge, and experience, and use these characteristics when unknowingly confronted with every juorney we pursue.
One example in which I am positive took me on the hero's journey occurred freshman year, and was probably just about the worst two months of my life. To shorten the story, my mom and dad scolded me for getting extremly poor grades in Honors English and World History. Honestly, I do not even know what I was thinking as I watched myself dig farhter and farther into the hole of failure. Academics have always been top priority for me, being that my mom is the principal of the largest elementary school in the state of New Jersey. Letting my grades slip as well as the consequences that were attatched to it definately altered me as a person and my perpective towards the importance of education and working to my highest abilities in order to attain success. I let my parents down, and myself down...two things that I promised I would avoid at all costs if I had any type of control over the situation, in which i did. I broke down, and my stability and focus mentally was far from where it needed to be. My life seemed to be falling apart, but somehow, I got through it even though I swore I would never be able to. My parents were my gaurdians then, and continue to be until this day. Although we faught over this dilemma for what seemed like forever and many tears of anger and depression were shed, they were truly the ones who caught me when I fell, as they always do.
In response to Joanna's comment, I just want to say that she is my best friend and I will always and forever be here for her no matter what type of curve ball life throws. Her incident on Falcon TV was humiliating and discouraging and she thought she would never get through it, but look at her now. She is succeeding more than ever and she is able to look back on the entire situation as a memory and lifelong lesson. As John Shute told Joanna and I, "Who cares? So what if you were wearing a bra on TV...just say yes I was and I was having fun living my life." This stands true for every situation that life brings, no natter if one realizes it or not. If you are able to look back and cherish all of the memories with a smile, than thats all that counts anyway.
This blog had made me realize just how spoiled I am. I have not lost anyone that I'm truly close to. No one close to me has ever been really sick. I did move in 6th grade, but I did not have a hard time with that. I guess I would have to say that AP Government was my hardest journey.
AP Government was my first AP class, but I didn't get nervous. At least not beforehand. I knew Mrs. Finn from my church, and I knew how sweet and understanding she was. She was still sweet and understanding as a teacher, but a lot stricter than I thought. Over the course of the year, I broke down emotionally about five times, at least. One time, I even made my mom come out to school to talk to me.
These emotional break downs were caused by the work load of the class. Never had I experienced a class with that much homework that was as difficult as Government's. During the year, I was asked many times why I was taking Government if it caused me so much stress, and I guess I knew, even before I was done, that it would change me for the better.
That is exactly what government did for me. I have become a much more calm person. This year, I have dared myself to take three AP classes, yet I have not stressed out once this year. For me, that is something to be proud of. It is because of government that I now trust myself. I know that I will get my work done, no matter what. Whether it is a week before an assignment is due, or whether it is at midnight the night before, I know that I will get it done. I have also learned to take it a day at a time. I wake up and make a schedule for myself. I know exactly what I'm going to do in my study hall, and I know what I want to do after school.
Government has given me a gift, that I now have to thank Finn for. I now have more faith in myself. I can trust myself, and it has made me more emotionally stable (or at least I like to hope it did.) Government was definitely a journey worth embarking on.
For my comment on someone elses blog, it is more of an apology. I want to say sorry to Emily Capille. When her dad went to Iraq, I had just moved down here. Emily was probalby the nicest person in my class, and now we are best friends. But I was too selfish back then to see that she was really scared about her dad. I was too busy complaining about how I wanted to move back to my old town, and Port was so small and boring. I should have been there for her to listen to her troubles about her dad. So, Emily, I'm sorry. I should have listened.
I totally agree with the statement Brittany started her blog with. Everything does happen for a reason, at least thats what i have been taught since a young age and even though situations may not make sense, everything does happen for a reason. Sometimes you'll find yourself asking why, "Why God?!", but there is a reason.
I had very unfortunate occurence to end out my freshman year at oakcrest. Towards the end of baseball season I started to really bash up my knees from sliding into bases. Of course looking back on it, if i had been sliding the correct way i wouldn't have had the problem. Anyway, I scraped up my knee pretty badly from sliding and diving so much and ended up with a nasty cut. That weekend i went to a friend's house who lives on Lake Lenape, and went swimming. After we went swimming we jumped in his jacuzi, without washing the lake water off mind you. That decision was dumb, lazy, and careless because i ended up with a swollen knee the next day. My parents knew it was bad so they sent me to the doctor who suggested i tore or damages one of the tendons in my knee. I went home and iced my knee and sort of blew it off.
The next day my knee was twice as big. My mom called over my grandfather to check it out because he had some experiences with infections. As soon as he saw it he knew it was an infection, most likely Staph. My grandfather, who loves me to death more than anyone i've ever known, insisted i head straight to the ER. But, of course, me being my stubborn self, refused to get in the car, until he said i could die from it. I didnt really beleive him because i didnt think it was so serious, but i got in.
When we arrived at the hospital they took some samples and told me id have to stay overnight. I WAS PISSED! Who wants to stay overnight in the hospital? Well it was worse than i expected, i ended up staying a week, including surgery and the installation of a vacuum on my knee. I almost died from the infection; the doctor said if i waited another day my leg mightve been gone, and a week and i would have died.
On top of all that, i spent a month at home, missing school, with a vacuum on my knee and bottles of antibiotics going through my arms.
I think going through all of that definitely brought a few "gifts" to my life.First, i was left with a nice battle scar. Next, i was introduced harshly to the concept of money; we're still paying for some of the bills. Lastly, i was given a lens at which to view life. You need to take advantage of every opportunity given to you, because you never want to leave soemthing behind. I still don't know if i realize how close to death i really was because i was so well taken care of, but i did realize that i should cherish and be grateful for all that has been given to me by my family, friends, and "The Big Man".
Sorry about the tad bit of lateness, Bunj, but my computer was being a little bit stupid and frustrating, as technology can be a lot of the time. Okay. so like Deanna and Alli and whoever else had trouble responding to this, I never had anything drastically sad or amazingly great happen to me. I have had family members pass away and things like that, but nothing that truly devastated me such as Dev Schenker. So, I think I will write this blog in reference to life's journey in general.
To start off with, I agree with Darrell and Hannah. Our jounreys begin when we are born and end when we die. Our life is just when we are under construction. Sometimes the architect builds our life simply and other times, they put in those little bumps that make it that much harer to conquer. In between, there are little mini journeys that are sometimes difficult to overcome, but since we are all still here today, we obviously have. I think that the most difficult journey I've faced is change. Change can be such a great thing, but it is hard for a lot of people to cope with. I can be one of those people. The biggest change that I have dealt with was probably the transition from little Mullica Township Middle School to overwhelming Oakcrest High School. In short, this seems like it isn't that big of a deal. However, all the other things that come along with it make it a substantial journey.
When I first thought about going to high school, I thought it was going to be so cool. The only thing that I was worried about was getting up super, super early and making sure I found somewhere to sit at lunch since I was just a lowly freshman. But then once I got here, it was completely different than what I was used to. The hallways were so crowded and I didn't know 75% of the people around me, if that. I had all different teachers and knew not one of them beforehand and I was lucky to get a Mullican or two in my classes. It was a tough transition mostly for us Mullicans simply because of the difference between Oak and Mullica. My fmaily, mostly my mom, was always there and I could just go to her and rant about whatever I wanted. She was basically my support system; well, her and my best Mullican friend, Emily Rheault. Yes, I am proud to say she has been my best friend since the third grade. We've always helped each other with everything, especially when it came to finding a cafeteria seat that first day.
But now, the journeys we are overcoming have to deal with friends and choices. They are little journey-ettes (my made up word, Bunje). For most of us, we have a few of those close people we have known since we were little, or since freshman year. But our other friends, the ones we just sort of know, they've probably come and gone. I know that I have some best friends I've been close to and some new ones that I am just getting to know. But I had to make those choices. A lot of times, those journeys into glosing old friends and finding new ones are based on the ones you keep. You want your friends to be mutual. But even those best friends can sometimes get lost. You seperate and aren't as close for a while and then you come back. Sometimes its because of that one little word, boys. They make everything too complicated. But if your friends are true, they come back regardless; usually regardless of the choices you make, even though some may be bad ones. I know I have had friends who disliked the choices I made about certain things and I ahve friends whose decisions I didn't like. But it is a journey-ette we have to overcome. Some of them are harder than others, but in the end, you build and build and build on the journey making it the best you can, until its over. And then you die. Isn't that a positive way to end? Well I don't like it. I'll end with something happy. The little expeditions you conquer while trying to keep on the journey of your life you want to stay on, somethings usually get in the way. It is the way you handle them and the way you continue on that matters. You look to your friends and family, and for some people, a religious figure, for guidance; but in the end, we all just get through the bad times, enjoy the good times, and hope that it all gets where you want to be so you can be who you want to be.
I am sorry with this late post. The weeks have been flying by so fast that I forgot it was already Wednesday. The most memorable challenge that I faced in my life was when I was in grade school and my first grade teacher recommended me for the below average English classes. When I heard about the news, I automatically said no and stayed where I was. My mom has always told me that my dad never let anyone tell him he couldn’t do something. For example, when he was in Pre-Med in college, his professors told him he would not get into Optometry school. That didn’t take the wind out of his sails and he sailed on and graduated from Optometry school. I guess that’s where I get my motivation from. When someone tells me I can’t do something, I prove them wrong. Here I am today. I made into all AP and honors courses and I am doing well. I have a good class rank and am working hard. My parents were always there for me. Right before high school they motivated me to take hard courses and apply for them. For the kids in higher classes than me it was already decided that they’d be in honors. I worked hard and didn’t let teachers tell me I wasn’t cut out for honors. I believe that this quality that I have will be what helps me succeed in college and my future. College will be here before you know it and it will bring challenges that will be hard to handle. There will be times that I will want to give up but this special quality I have will help me get through the hard times. Looking to go to Dentistry school, I will face a numerous amount of challenges. I will no let these challenges take my dream away from me. I believe the saying that, “you can be anything you want to be.” This is true but it comes with hard work. I am often scared about what will happen in the future, but I know I will be alright because I have something special that will help me succeed.
I have been in a situation just like Danny. It also taught me a lot. Seeing my grandfather was hard, but I can say I am stronger inside. During that time period I spent a lot of time with my family. They were there for me even when it was an important time in my life.
Ok, this is pretty personal. This is about a woman very dear to me, my grandmother. Her name is Deirtra Marlene White. I was on a journey for a years, one that went lasted for ten years. Since I was a baby, my mother was always a very hard worker. When she wasn't working, back then she'd go out to have fun and go to the bar. My dad was a player, never there for me or anything, He would only stop by occasionally and take us out in his limo. I guess that was what my dad thought was a version of being a father. I loved the limo rides though. My dad, my sister and I always had fun when it was just the three of us. I loved those times. When no one else was there, my grandmom lived with us and took care of me. She practically raised me. I love my grandmom for that because if it wasn't for her, I'd probably act a totally different way. Once my family moved from Atlantic City to Mays Landing, my grandmom still lived with us. She was the best babysitter, and she always spoiled me, ALWAYS. When ever I wanted something, all I had to do was ask, and "my wish was her command." She wasn't my servant of anything like that, I really valued our bond. Before I would cry, she knew why. There was something I would do with my bottom lip quivering, and she'd ask me what's wrong. I was practically attached to her. This was the great part of the journey. This journey made a change for the worse once my grandmom was diagnosed with cancer. This devastated me, however, I was young, not knowing exactly the effects of cancer. Because my grandmom was always a strong woman, I never doubted her strength when it came to her getting better. It came to a point where she had to get brain surgery and had screws in her head. Her cancer spread, she now had esophagial cancer. When I was younger, I never even knew what an esophagus was. It came to a point where she was put into a nursing home, and ahd some mornings when the nurses would call and tell us that she was non responsive. How would anyone feel if they recieved a phone call saying their grandmother wasn't responding to anything. This was a big scare for me. I'm fighting back tears as I type this because I don't want this to be "one of those nights." Anyway, sadly, on November 15, 2001, she went into eternal rest. This is my fancy way of getting through the pain of saying she really died. This was my abyss. I hit rock bottom. Imagine a ten year old depressed, that was me at that time. Through the tears, I was really going through a mental and spiritual hardship. God was dealing with me, I couldn't see why God would allow that to happen. I had mental hardships because it was hard for me to cope, grieve, and realize that my love, my second mother, my rock, was gone. It was hard for me to realize that she would never be coming back to me. This journey was one that I had to embark on myself, it was like a grieving process to get through. No one pushed me, I pushed myself. I learned that death is not the end of love because she will always be in my heart. This changed me for the better because now, I can think of the good times that I had with her. And finally, yes I did have guradians, my family. Everyone helped me come out of the "abyss", which helped me become the girl I am today. Now, I'm better than I was, all because of my journey.
To comment on what Deanna said, I'm proud of her and I'm glad that she didn't have any big problems.
You are so right in saying that at this age, as young as we are, have experienced and seen things we never would’ve hoped or thought we would. If I was as open as I wish I was I would elaborate on that with a different experience, but I ‘m not so you’re all just going to have to deal with softball talk. Playing softball is one of my favorite things in the world to do. I really do love it. For those 3 months of softball season that is my world. If I can’t hit, field, or throw my best it will generally cause a big mental breakdown. (Usually this is due to the fact that our coaches are miserable inconsiderate people.) Anyway, last year’s season started off a little bit rough. I was competing for a spot. My bat was off. I was flipping out. Finally though, I started to get my game back. I just felt it coming. IT was like the pieces were being put back together. Then I broke my thumb during a game. Yep. I snapped it completely. I still hate my thumb. It was a complete break, all the way through the bone. Therefore, I needed to get pins and all this other jazz done to it. Point is, I was out for the season, forced to watch the game from the sidelines while all my favorite people were out there playing. I know my season would’ve had its ups and downs, they always do, but at least I would’ve been playing the game I love. I was so upset. Probably more upset than anyone ever should be over a game Softball was my thing. Not being able to play was one of the most heart breaking experiences I’ve faced. I’m sure other athletes with love for a sport would understand. Luckily, my team and I were at that point incredibly close. I had plenty of people outside of softball I could’ve talked and vented to, but they just couldn’t have understood. They didn’t know the coaches and didn’t share my love for the game. The girls on my team made me feel like I was still important even if I couldn’t physically go out on the field and play. I love my team to death still and can’t wait until this coming year. I learned from last year that I need to start off my season as strong as possible so even if I do get hurt at least I accomplished something while I did play. Also, not being able to play makes me so much more appreciative of being capable of playing. I’m going to appreciate the game much more and not wait until last minute to start training. I’ve learned my lesson about wasting time.
I have to comment on EmRow’s blog. Her dad really is amazing. I hope he’s getting better Em. It makes me so sad to hear that you and your family had to go through all that, but I’m glad to hear he’s improving. He better still be at every game this year! We can’t be left alone with Raph and our other amazing coaches! Who knows what would happen!? Hopefully our team can make Poppa Rhealut proud this year! I love you, P4L.
I suppose that I have yet to live through an event that would truly change the way I thought about life and the way I lived it. However, I still believe that each and everyday I am forced upon to accomplish some sort of task that could possibly make me a better person. Whether physically or mentally I have always tried my best to overcome any obstacles in my way. Yet, with these small tasks that I try to accomplish I have yet to reach the “big” trial which will ultimately define who I will become in the future. In a way I believe that this is a good thing because my life has yet to be set in stone, giving me the ability to do whatever I want.
With each every day journey I try to use the best of my abilities, even though sometimes I am not recognized for this. So actually I could say that the journey that I have needed to overcome most up to today was the problem of not having enough self-confidence in doing things. I would always look down upon myself and never believed in myself, sometimes looking to friends for reassurance. Though every time I would do that they would tell me to shut up because I am not bad at anything, I just need to learn to believe in myself. To me, believe it or not, it was an extremely difficult thing to do, and I thought I would continue to put myself down for as long as I had something to do in this world. After about 6 years starting in 4th grade I have finally stopped thinking of myself as a failure and now that this has been down I feel immensely better about myself. To do this I needed the mental strength which I acquired from fellow friends who would tell me everyday that I am no failure.
Besides for this I am waiting for the great journey that could affect the rest of my life, and I am hoping that I will willingly accomplish this on my own. The ways in which I hope to learn and change from this are great and I wish that there will be guardians of some sort to lead me to the path of victory. As far as commenting on another’s blog response I would like to say something about gary’s. I was aware of this event but never really knew exactly what happened, after reading it I feel as though I can understand how and why he feels so strongly towards God the way he does now and truly respect him for what he has managed to pull through and the ways in which he became a better person afterwards.
wooo 11:11 ^^^^^^
Make a wish! :P
There were many critical points in my life that have changed and molded me into the person I am today. Most of the incidents that have occurred in my life are dreadful memories of my past, although it was always the thought of my future that kept me motivated to keep on pushing on. At a young age it is hard for a child to have to learn to fend themselves, but when there are no other options is just inevitable, you have to do what you have to do. You must grow up even if your only seven years old. I was seven years old when I had to grow up and to be honest there is no exact answer to how I managed or how I’m still managing. There are a lot of things in my life that I regret but being forced to grow up at a young age is not one of them. Because I began to fend for myself at the age of seven, I’ve become more mature and aware of what the world is like today. Many would blame my mistakes on my mother; they would tell her she is the cause for all of my “screw ups.” My mother is an honorable woman who deserves everything and more in life, but she’s lost and still has a hard time with finding herself. The thing is that’s the way my mother has always been, I’ve always been her rock. Being her rock isn’t the easiest thing at times but like she’s always said, “I’m all she really has.” My mother has always been this way, so I guess if there had to be an answer to how I’ve overcome all the obstacles in life, it would be realization. The sooner I began to realize that my mother will never change nor my father, the better I got at coping with life. When a person realizes something there are no more questions about that issue. My life could be an entire question but as I get older I realize my parents will never change only I can, and the more I realize the better my life becomes. I would never describe my life as wonderful, but I would never describe it as terrible either. Regardless of the ups and downs I’ve always had, there was always someone there for me when things started to get rough, and that someone was and still is my cousin Nicole. It’s a wonderful feeling to know that you always have someone to turn to no matter what and will always be there for you. Nine times out of ten I don’t feel that way about my parents but I think that can apply to all teenagers. My parents are wonderful people, they just have their issues. In the long run their problems, their chaos, their issues, have become my way of learning, my way of growing. My life has yet to even begin and I’m sure there are many obstacles that I still have to overcome, but that’s why life is said to be a journey. You never know what’s at the end of that map.
I agree with Du when she says life goes on. There are always those times or moments in life that will bring you down and once you’re down it’s so hard to get back up. I believe that if you think about the better things in life and the fact that you do have a purpose you’ll prosper and life will stop looking so dim. Also, like Du, my mother is a single mother and works many jobs but from talking to Du and getting to know her I know that these little obstacles we have in life will never stop us from having a successful future. Like Du stated we can be put through anything and not back down from it, we will overcome.
Wow, Ms. Bunje, what a week to post this question! Under normal circumstances, I would express the same views as Alli and Pete: that I pretty much have a stress-free life and that nothing extremely horrible has happened to me. Well, I would say that this view still generally holds true but that I had to put up with some "drama," I guess you could say, over these past few days.
So, I'm sure that most of you probably know what occurred. But, just for you, Ms. Bunje, I will give a brief overview of what happened.
Well, I was invited to a Halloween party at a friend's house and long story short, I ended up "hooking up" with a girl there.
And, because of what occurred, a few of the people above me now view me differently. And I feel like some people that I thought I could trust really dont care about others -- that they preach to you certain things but, then, do the opposite of what they say and get angry with you when they do what they said to do. (I'm sorry if this seems a bit vague and confusing. I'm just trying to convey how I feel to those who are a part of the situation.) What I'm saying is that I hate how hypocritical people seem to be.
As time goes on, however, people seem to accept what happened. For those who haven't I have done my best to talk to them (with the exception of the aforementioned hypocrites).
I mean, I just don't understand why some people who have no idea what actually happened and weren't within 20 miles of the party still want to throw their two cents in. You weren't involved. You don't need to hop into others' business. So, just keep your spare change in your pocket.
Alright, now that I've gotten that off my chest, back to the question.
I believe that honest, straight-from-the-heart talk truly can solve any problems that life might throw at you. But following through on those words is just as important. As the old saying goes, "Actions speak louder than words."
And despite the fact that quite a few people were angry with me because what I did seemed "out of character," we were able to rctify the situation and continue just living life.
Hopefully, in the future, I will look back on these past few days and say that this has definitely made me mentally and emotionally stronger and, overall, a better person.
We’ve all had our trying times, and some of us have had it worse than others. I’m not going to say that I’ve had a horrible life; on the contrary, my life hasn’t been all that bad. Atthe same time, I have had some crappy times in my life though. From a dead-beat dad to a family full of nut-jobs, learning to cope wasn’t that easy although it was a simple process. As most of you know very well, I am a very emotional and passionate person. When I go against something, I will fight it to death. Unfortunately, this strategy does not work all to well, as I learned the hard way. The best way I’ve found to overcome the “trials of life”, especially those dealing with adults, is to just suck it up and deal it, and if needed, overdose on caffeine and chocolate. In time, I am able to convince myself that I am indifferent to my problems. This strategy works well, for the time being at least, but it will probably end up nipping me in the butt in the end.
My “journey” has not consisted of several horrible events in my life that I needed to overcome. My life is about just taking each day at a time. Seven years ago, my parents got a divorce, which was no biggie, typical story of today’s typical teenager. For the first year or two, things were fine. My brother and I would visit my father every other weekend, and it was just like, whatever…everything’s fine. This all changed when my father found a girlfriend. From then on, it was just a downhill decline of my father’s love for my brother and me. He was too busy loving his new girlfriend and her child. Soon enough, we weren’t seeing my father at all. A year had gone by and I still haven’t seen my father. It was then when he finally decided he wanted to be back in my life. Until then, I was indifferent to the situation. If he didn’t love me or want to be in my life, then that was fine with me. But then he would show up randomly at my swim meets, or parades I was marching in. I would see him and immediately freeze up. My heart would sink, and I would feel numb all over and sick in my stomach. That experience made me learn that I could hide my feelings and forget about them, but some trigger would mess me up.
Like Courtney S, I also dreaded doing this blog because of what it might stir up. It was slightly hurtful because of what it all brought up again because I was just again beginning to convince myself that I was okay again with everything going on Now I realize though that I am forever changed, but I’m not sure all or even most of it is a good thing. I am jealous of girls who have fathers who love them. I have a hard time trusting most guys, which if you think about it, may be a good thing.
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