Emptiness feels like a virus

I’m lying in bed, thinking, like I’ve done so many nights lately. I just watched a movie, and for some reason they always bring my emotions to the surface.

I’ve overcome so much this semester – just being able to say that shows how far I’ve come. I was drowning in that bottomless pit of hopelessness, and I managed to fight my way back. I say fight because that’s what it was every step of the way. I’m not saying I did it alone, I’ve been so blessed to have so much help to deal with my problems. When I was going through it, I felt like I was leaning on everyone, and floundering rather than fighting. But now I can see that what I did, what I have done before is a great achievement and something to be proud of. I’m still so surprised that I made it, that I really did overcome . . . still, things aren’t quite right.

Emotionally, I feel like myself again. The feelings of going crazy, of worthlessness, of general irrationality are gone. Yet, I find myself thinking, “How am I going to survive this?” Only now the “this” isn’t unbearable depression, it’s the overwhelming loneliness that I feel so often lately. I feel like there is part of me missing, so empty.

I’m a people person. I always have been. I love my family and friends with ferocity and loyalty that often surprises people, even myself occasionally. I don’t think I’m made to be alone. Throughout my childhood, I struggled with the juxtaposing ideas I was faced with. One came from my family, whom I adore and respect. It was the idea that we should be independent and happy without people. My mom always said, “It’s nice to have people around, but you shouldn’t need them.” I never quite understood this principle, because it so opposed my nature; the part of me saying, “That’s ridiculous, everyone needs people.”

In reality, it’s still something I contemplate occasionally, especially at times like this. I firmly believe that people need other people, and that we aren’t meant to be alone. We’re gregarious animals, such as is found so often in nature. Like sheep, cattle, horses, birds – we belong in flocks and herds. I guess the human version is family. Still, no matter how firmly I believe this, when my heart aches with loneliness, I can’t help but wonder if it’s a sign of weakness. If only I were stronger, would I be able to live my life independently, without so much pain?

I wonder, but only fleetingly. In my soul, I know that “it is not good for man to be alone.” (Genesis 2:18) I know there is no weakness in sharing life with other people. There is a country song by Garth Brooks called “Standing Inside the Fire.” It’s about the people who stand on the outskirts of the life, watching because they are afraid of risk. The second verse talks about those who battle the fire and walk the wire; those who are convinced that without risk, there is no purpose. One line says, “Life is not tried, it is only survived, if you’re standing outside the fire.” Being strong and independent enough to not need people may prevent pain, but it also prevents joy.

So I can’t help but wonder now, when will I find my help meet? Where is the one I’m meant to share my life with, and how long must I endure this loneliness? And most of all, how will I bear it? The emptiness seems to grow stronger each day, and sometimes I fear that it will encompass me, leaving only bitterness. I know who I am. I don’t need anyone to provide me with an identity. I need a partner, a friend, someone to laugh and cry and love with. How much longer must I endure?

A Change of Plan

Life doesn't always go according to plan. This is a tidbit of wisdom that I have gathered over the last few years. In fact, life rarely goes according to plan. I don't know why that is, I just know it's true. Sometimes the things that are most important to us are the things that we have the least control over
It can be anything; this change. Maybe you were convinced you would fall desperatly in love in college and life would be perfect. Instead, you have a degree, but have yet to find any men of consequence. Or maybe someone you loved and lost returned to your life years later. That's the thing - these changes in plan aren't always for the worst.
Plans aren't the only things that change. It has often been said that people can't change. Let me tell you a secret: that's not true. It's an excuse for all the people in the world who don't want to change. But people do change, and it can be a beautiful thing. A father who struggles to be supportive can become a tender and loving parent. I swear it can happen. I've seen it.
I know why we make plans. We are afraid of the unknown - the "what ifs" can drive a person mad. I don't know why life doesn't go according to those plans. But I do know that life has a way of workings itself out for the best. The key is to find joy in the unknown.

Knights and Damsels

In the days of fairies, socercy and the basic fight against good and evil, things were more simple. The damsel, hidden away in her tower, bound by magic and guarded by a dragon, would await the knight in shining armor that destiny required would rescue her. She whiled away her hours, doing whatever is it that damsels do, and dreamed of her rescuer, and her freedom. This is not to say that the damsel is helpless. The phrase is "damsel in distress," not "hopelessly helpless damsel." She probably fought tooth and nail against going up in that tower. There was probably some shin-kicking, sratching, and definitly some name-calling. The bad guy probably came out of that struggle with some battle wounds. But there are some things that a damsel, no matter how fierce, just can't stand against. Maybe he threatened the people she loved. Maybe he bribed her with chocolate and accesories. Whatever happened, the damsel ended up stuck in some stupid tower, awaiting rescue from a hero that would inevitably show up.
And rescue would come. It may have come in the form of a knight in shining armor who slew the dragon with one fierce blow and managed not to get a drop of blood on his armor; or a peasant who outwitted the dragon and fought his way, tooth and nail to get to the woman who needed him. Whomever the savior, he needed no encouragement to save the damsel. He thought not of the dangers, the risk of failure. He only needed to know that there was a damsel who needed him, and he knew that saving her would be worth the risk. And in the end, love conquored all.

Today, in the days of business deals, politics and trans-atlantic flights, things seem so different. There are no towers in which to hide away innocent maidens. There is no evil socerer who simply wants to deprive others from happiness. No spells are cast. Perhaps the lore of the damsel and her knight have been cast aside; but they have not been forgotten. The desire to be rescued and protected lies in every woman - the desire to rescue lies in every man. The setting has just changed.
There is no socerer to cast the damsel into her tower. She either builds it for herself, or life builds it for her. Fear of failure, broken hearts, female competition - it all builds around her, brick by brick. She's a competant woman, she can get a degree, have a career, make a five-year-plan, but she can't completely control the world around her; she can't control others. And so, unwittingly, she locks the deepest, most sincere parts of herself into a fortress, guarded not by a dragon but by cynism. And she waits. Day by day, she pushes aside the loneliness, goes about her life, and waits for her knight.
The difference between the knights of old and the men of today may seem simple. It seems that the knights were invincible. But just because you never hear the stories about when the dragon ripped the knight's entrails out, it doesn't mean that it never happened. In fact, the difference is simple. The knights were simply willing to take the risk.
Granted, the men of today fight a different battle. Knights fought dragons controlled by socercy; the modern man faces a fortress of the damsel's own design. She knows it's weaknesses, surely, but she will not reveal them until the knight has proven worthy. It's a fierce battle, one with many casualties. Understandably, the men of today question whether the risk of this quest is worth the reward. What if the damsel turns out to be a real shrew?
And so the damsel waits, fierce on the outside, but trapped on the inside. She waits for her knight in shining armor, her peasant boy, the one man who can break through her cynicism and unlock her prison. Take pity on the modern men of this world. For unlike the knights, there is no map to lead the way, no years of training. There is simply the hope that the reward is worth the risk; assurance that true love still conquors all.

Finding Peace

It's almost two in the morning. I can't sleep. I'm tired, but not sleepy. I think there is something wrong with my mind. I feel this panic, a need to get away, but where to go? I hope to find peace in my empty apartment, but it's not there. I hope for it alone in my car, enjoying the rythmn of driving, but it's not their either. I look for it in the outdoors, in fresh air and sunlight - I've always found it there before. But this time, it's not there. I know in the logical side of my mind that I can get through this, that it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. But in my heart, I feel like it's different. Where all my illogical feelings are built up, I feel like this is the time I won't be able to handle it, that this is the time I really will go crazy. I think of all the place were I could feel safe, and it's always with the peope I love. Anywhere would be safe if I was snuggling with my mom. If anyone can save me from insanity, it's her. She has before. She saved my life. And now she's so far away. If I was with Best Friend, staying up too late and sleeping in all day, things would be right again. Therein, I believe, lies the key; the reason that this time is different. The sun came out, and the gloom dissapaited. But when I stop working, going to class, pretending like everything is okay, the lonliness descends like a cloud. The worst part about this time is that it IS real. There is a reason for the ache deep inside that it feels as if my soul is weeping and my heart is ripping open. Heartache. They should tell you that it's not just a metaphor. It really aches. The worst part? Not that it's real, but that there is nothing I can do to change it. I can't bring my family closer. I can't go see a movie with my best friend. I can't develop a trusting, tell-each-other-anything-unconditional-support-and-love in the next week. Or in the next month, for that matter. Worse, the one person I thought I could depend on, I can't. I don't know what happened, I don't know if it was somehow my fault. I just know it's not there anymore. It vanished so quickly - maybe I've been fooling myself all along. There was a reason I didn't want to call him by his full name. It's Frasier all over again.

I'm moving in six months. Six months - not long enough to establish a real relationship, and then I leave to a place where I know no one. How long is this desolate loneliness meant to last? These times, they challege my deepest and most powerful beliefs. "Where can I turn for peace? Where is my solace? Where, in my need to know; where can I run? He answers privately, reaches my reaching. Who, who can understand? He, only One." Yet, in my darkest hours, when I most yearn for peace, when my reaching is greatest, I don't feel Him reaching back. I can recite the right answers, I can listen to pithy comments on faith from others, but the fact remains - I "know" the answers, but I'm not sure I believe them. "Faith precedes the miracle." What if my faith isn't sufficient. And that, that is my greatest fear. That in my anguish, the faith that I have based my life on will prove false. Perhaps peace can only be found within ourselves. Perhaps peace comes from having faith. And yet, no matter how I yearn for it, peace exceeds my grasp, and the ache remains.

My mom thinks this whole blog thing is ridiculous. She says it's like having a diary that the whole world can read. I tried to explain to her that you didn't write personal stuff in it, but she doesn't get it. I guess I don't really get it either. Good thing nobody reads my blog, because this might be one depressing entry. I think the thing that I like about blogging is that it is kind of like writing in a diary that anyone can read. The typing is calming, and I like the idea of sending my thoughts out into the universe, hoping that there might be answers somewhere.

Today was a sad day. I don't know why. I went the the Sundance Film Festival in Park City last night and had a ball. I went with The Writer and her two friends. It was fun, and I had a great time. But then I woke up this morning, and I didn't want to get out of bed. When I did get out of bed, I didn't want to shower, then I didn't want to do homework, and eventually I went back to bed for a couple hours (actually, that was an accident, I attempted to read a textbook). It's so strange - not a depressed feeling, like I'll never be happy again, it's just more of a not happy feeling. Like something is missing in my life. Maybe something is.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm lonely, although sometimes I'm not sure for what. Sure, it's not like I have a possy, but I've got a lot of friends, and a lot of people who love me. I have The Writer, The Best Friend, The VT, The Alaskan, The American One. Not to mention my Family, Mom, Dad, The Sisters and Brothers. I'm not even unhappy with the state of my life. I just feel like something's missing. Maybe it's because things haven't been so great between me and The American One lately. I think he's been avoiding me, and that hurts, even though I've decided I don't want to date him. We had a little tiff last week because I stated disappointment with The Old Friends, who are still his friends. It's part of why I've decided that I don't really want to be with him. It's not that he doesn't think the way I do about The Old Friends, it's that when I said how I feel, he talked to me like I was an uber-sensitive, irrational female, and it pissed me off. I think the worst part though, is that I think that's really how he feels about me. I can't be with someone who sees me like that. Partly the whole avoidance thing hurts because I told him not to do this, I told him that if there was something wrong to just come talk to me. I guess it's not meant to be though. The American One, is a guy, after all.

Sometime I'll tell the story about the people in my life, The Current Friends, and The Old Friends. It's an interesting story.

Some things are everpresent

I've been noticing increasingly lately that life never seems to hold still. There are those few glorious moments that you want to hold onto forever, to live the rest of your days in. But it never quite works like that, does it? Too soon those moments pass, and we're thrust into the moments that we must endure to get to the treasured ones.

Was it FDR that said, "There is nothing to fear but fear itself"? It makes me wonder if he was ever afraid of anything. Lately it seems that I'm afraid of everything. I hate the near overwhelming fear - it makes me feel weak. Those who love me tell me I'm brave and strong, but it's hard to believe at times like this. I hate not knowing where my life is headed.

On to more interesting topics. Am I the only one who's love life seems to be a constant display of irony? For a while, I enjoyed a lack of love life, which really just translates to a lack of interest. Now it seems that I'm bombarded with unwanted events. In order to really explain, I guess I'll have to introduce you to the two of them: The American One, who I want so much it confuses me, but who shows annoyingly little interest in wanting me back; and The German One, who started out as a pen pal and now has evolved into more of a . . . situation.

The German One and I "met" through a mutal friend who spent some time in Germany. When The German One wanted to email me, I thought, "What the heck? He's in Germany." Oh, how little I knew. He's still in Germany, but is now convinced that I'm the greatest girl in the world. He's such a nice guy, I hate to tell him otherwise. He sent me a Christmas package. Strategically placed on top was a red plush heart with "I love you" written on it. And he doesn't even know me!

On the other hand, The American One knows me better than most and still shows no interest. I try not to take it personally, but I'll admit it's frustrating. The German One hasn't even met me and realizes how amazing I am. The American One has me right in front of him and fails to see me. Oh, the ironies of love!

Stupid People Who Think They Are Smart.

I heard a great thing on Fox News this morning. Yes, I know it's a Saturday morning and there is nothing more dorky than watching Fox News on a Saturday morning. In my defense, conservative talk and television shows, including but not limited to Rush Limbaugh and The O'Reilly Factor, seems to be omnipresent in my parent's house. But I digress.

Back to what I heard this morning. I was making waffles and listening to the news with one ear, because I find it somewhat interesting. They were debating the placement of Sam Alito as a supreme court justice. Actually, the topic was, "How will Sam Alito effect the stock market?" This seemed a little ridiculous in and of itself, but then one of the guests said something that blew my mind.

"Anyone who is so pro-life clearly has no respect for basic property rights."

My response to that? WHAT THE HELL?!?!? You've got to be kidding me. Now, I'm generally a pretty tolerant person. I strongly believe that all people have the right to believe how they choose and have their own opinion. But this is crossing the line. Where does this guy get off correlating being anti-abortion to having no respect for property rights?

I understand how he could make such a statement sound logical. Theoretically, a woman's body is her property, and she should have the right to do what she wishes with it. This is simply a case of how something that is completely wrong can be twisted to sound okay. Okay, maybe a woman's body is her property. So let her get tattoos and piercings and sexually transmitted diseases. I don't care. But when it comes to another human life, I DO care. You wouldn't hear this sort of argument to support drunk driving. I mean, hey, the drunk person's body is his or her property, as is they vehicle. Why shouldn't they drive? Maybe being firmly against drunk driving makes me loose all respect for property rights.

Of course this position is ridiculous, and the shmuck who was on Money Matters on Fox News this morning would be sure to agree. "It's different," he would say. "Drunk driving is illegal because it protects other people; the people on the road who can't protect themselves." And I would say, "Aha! That is exactly my point." One of the first political ideals that I was ever taught in school was that sometimes we have to give up some of our rights in order to protect ourselves and others.

Being pro-life isn't about refusing to recognize a woman's "basic property rights," just like banning drunk driving isn't. It's about protecting people who can't protect themselves. In the case of drunk driving, it's protecting the mother who is running the pharmacy for more cough syrup and doesn't know a drunk driver is speeding her way. In the case of abortion, it's about protecting the life of a child who deserves the chance to live, regardless of the mistakes of it's parents. It's not about basic property rights, it's about life.

If you want to talk about respect for basic property rights, Mr. Money Matters Man, let's talk about imminent domain and see how you feel about that. But that's a different topic.

Big News in My World

A big event happened in Betsy-land yesterday. My parents, Mom and Dad, were called on a mission. They're going to be leaving for Tallahassee, Florida on February 6, and they will be gone for 18 months. They are so excited - Dad has already shaved off his moustache, revealing a white and slightly wrinkled upper lip. This is the first time I've ever seen it. The mission area includes Pensacola and southern Alabama, where my brother died 11 years ago. That seems a little too coincidental. I'm happy for them.

I am happy. Really. The deeper truth, though, is that I'm terrified to have them leave for so long. Senior couple missionaries have different rules than young missionaries (for those of you unfamiliar with Mormon-dom), so I'll be able to talk to them and all. The thing is, my parents are the most important people in my life; Mom is my best friend. My life is already changing so much, what with graduation looming, and this is just another little tremor in my already tumoultous existance. But don't get me wrong. I really am happy for them.

I showed Mom my blog today. She disapproved of my listing of my pet peeves. She says it's complaining and whiny. I was going more for blithly sarcastic, but whatever. She's probably right - she usually is. So this is for my mom:

Things that make me happy:

• Sunshine
• Fresh snow
• Friends
• Good books
• My dog, Emma
• My family, the whole weird group of 'em
• My religion
• Textbook buyback
• My hometown
• My best friend, Felicia
• Mail (except bills)
• New Zealand
• Running into old friends
• Rubber duckies

That's all that comes to mind right now - here's to you, Mom.

Entry the First

My first blog entry. I have conformed, once again, to pop culture, and after I laughed at my friend when he said he wanted to start a blog. Blog. Funny word. When it comes down to it, it's just that I feel the need to spew my thoughts into space. Maybe I'm hoping someone will answer. Maybe it's just easier than journaling. Maybe it's because I'm currently without boyfriend (I say currently like it's an uncommon occurance - ha!), or because of my current dearth of close friends (that is an uncommon occurance). Either way, I've decided it's time to confer my wisdom onto the world. And the first thing the world gets to learn about me? My pet peeves.

Peeve #1: People who don't turn their blinkers off after changing lanes.
What the heck is with that? Blink, blink, blink, blink, blink. It's bad enough that I can't tell where they are going, but now my eye is twitching too!

Peeve #2: People who don't do what they say they're going to do.
Guys who say they'll call and don't. Friends who say they'll help and won't. Bankers who say, "Oh, that will be fine," but when you get to the bank, it's not. Whoever it is and whatever they're saying, it drives me crazy. And I'll admit to a little hypocrisy here. I'm not perfect at this either, but I'm working on it, and I think I'm getting better. Here's the bottom line. If you're not going to do it, don't say it.