Monday, April 25, 2016

The Music of Love

Our song of love is pure and fair
All the hurt music can repair
As heaven comes to us on earth
And makes us one in our rebirth
And now we're open to the tune
The world may fall, but we're immune
It binds us two in sweet refrain
And twirls us 'round and 'round again
Each heart in harmony now beats
And lifts us both up from our seats
To dance and swirl in unison
In perfect pitch, us two made one
Each giving up the solo roles
And harmonizing with our souls
An orchestra of pure delight
Our song lights each and every night
This tune a symbol from above
A perfect melody of love 


Tuesday, April 19, 2016

My Breaking Point Doesn't Define Me

We're human; we all have breaking points.


"Even the best fall down sometimes;
Even the stars refuse to shine."
- Collide, Howie Day

"But I'm only human, and I bleed when I fall down.
I'm only human, and I crash and I break down."
- Human, Christina Perri

"You're aching; you're breaking,
And I can see the pain in your eyes."
- Everybody's Changing, Keane

I am an incredibly patient person. I give plenty of second chances, and third chances, and fourth chances. I put effort into one-sided relationships with the hope that I will receive effort in return someday. I give of myself endlessly, and I do not expect much in return, but this usually results in people walking all over me. Even when I know I'm being used, I let it happen, because I think I can help these people. However, I am not a saint. I have my limits; I have reached my breaking point.

Breaking Point: the moment of greatest strain at which someone or something gives way; a moment of stress in which a person breaks down or a situation becomes critical; the point at which physical, mental, or emotional strength gives way under stress.

this is mine. 

Between the pressures of school, being away from home, extracurricular activities, job applications, scholarship applications, finals that are approaching, working to maintain friendships, and building new relationships, I have collapsed. It is simply too much pressure for a single person to handle without the support of good friends. Stress was coming at me from all aspects of my life, and I could no longer deal with everything. 

So I broke. I cried. I ate too much. I slept too much. I watched too much Netflix. I avoided going out in public as much as I could because I dreaded social situations. I malfunctioned and crashed. I shattered into a million pieces. I couldn't find any tape for awhile, but recently I came across some glue. I am in the process of putting myself back together and turning my breaking point into a learning experience. 

Just underneath your breaking point lies your true strength. Your breaking point is really your making point. I was able to pull myself up after knocking myself down, and you can pull yourself up, too. Remember that you and I are human. We make mistakes. We fall down. Sometimes we do not want to get up. But we are human. We thrive knowing we are strong. We fall down seven times, but we stand up eight times. 

Our breaking points do not define us. 

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

The Man Behind The Door


I hear a gasp as a man catches a glimpse of me in my current situation on the sidewalk.  As I lock eyes with him, I feel as if his face allows me some insight to his soul.  His eyes hold a greater darkness that resembles a starless night sky, and raven eyeliner heavily coats the underneath of his obsidian headlights.  Vertical creases lie between his eyes, proving his chronic unhappiness.  As I search the bottomless pits I discover his empty soul that is closed off to the rest of the world.  

My eyes divert from his charcoal blinders when he twitches his nose ever so slightly.  As my exploration of his inner being continues, I notice the weakness of his aquiline snout and begin to wonder about his character flaws.  The man’s angled muzzle resembles the beak of an eagle and leads me to believe that he is of depraved moral character.  His hollow spirit is exposed through the hook of his nose.

My attention is drawn to his mouth when he does not return the smile I flash at him.  His sanguine lips are in a tightly pursed position as if he is about to kiss someone.  His caved in cheeks sharpen his rigid jaw line that leads to his chiseled chin.  His face could have been sculpted out of marble if not for the seams surrounding the corners of his lips.  The cracks indented into his face tell a story about who he once was, before his prolonged period of sadness.  His story unfolds as I examine the laugh lines turned into grief lines that are taking over his weather-beaten face.  

I watch from the sidewalk as the man closes the small window on his large ebony door.  I ponder what I just saw in his handsome face.  He showed me his vacant yet wanting soul through his mysterious and cloudy eyes.  He let me discover his corrupt moral depravity, his only flaw, through his bent nose.  He told me his life story through the grooves on his face.  He revealed his entire self to me without saying a word.  His memorable face will forever be in my mind.  To me, he will always be known as the man behind the door.  

Sunday, April 10, 2016

A Letter to a Toxic Former Friend

I'm stronger than you ever thought I'd be.


Dear Toxic Former Friend, 

You hurt me. You bullied me. You manipulated and embarrassed me. You shoved me down into my lowest of lows. You emotionally tortured me. You made me not want to live anymore. Yet here I am. 


I wonder if you even comprehend what you are doing. You are making the people you call your 'friends' feel like lesser beings so that you can raise yourself up and boost your own self-worth. There were times when I thought that friendship was supposed to be like that; they dealt with your drama, and you dealt with theirs. However, the spotlight is always on you, and the rest of us are only here for your entertainment. 


People asked me why I chose to be friends with you. They wondered how I could bear being around you all the time. And you know what? I always stood up for you. Always. Even when it seemed like I had no reason to stick around anymore, like I was just a chew toy, I was there for you. I was a friend, even if you were not. 


Looking back at this so-called "friendship" and evaluating it for what it truly was, I realize that it's time to move on from this relationship and the pain that I felt as a result of it. At the same time, with ending this friendship, I recognize how much I have grown as an individual, and how this toxic friendship may have even changed me for the better. While you may have attempted to belittle the people you call "friends" by filling our minds with anxiety and our lives with drama, I want to thank you. 


Thank you for teaching me that I do not need toxic people like you in my life. Thank you for empowering me to no longer sit back and take demands and insults, and to finally stand up for myself and my own opinions. Thank you for making me realize who my true friends are, the ones who really do have my back and care about me, rather than selfish people like you who only worry about themselves. Thank you for allowing me to discover my self-worth and all I am capable of doing. After the hurricane of drama died down, I finally saw that the real problem was not me at all; the real problem is you and your actions. 


If it weren't for you, I would not be able to spot other toxic people from a mile away the way that I can now. I am free from the weights dragging me down to feel lesser than anybody else, and I am happier than I have been in a long time. Thank you for teaching me these life lessons; now, I have some life lessons for you, so listen up. Friends don't turn on each other. They don't call each other names that are too hurtful to even be mentioned. Lying, deceitful, gossiping personalities aren't attractive. Lastly, karma is a bitch. Good luck with that. 


You broke my heart. You tried to shatter me, but you didn't. I am stronger than I ever was because I have found that I am able to hit rock bottom, and still get back up again. Thank you for saving me from becoming a toxic friend. Life is short, and it's time to make a clean break from this toxic friendship so I can move on to something better. 


Sincerely, 

The Girl You Used 

Friday, April 8, 2016

Bucket List: My College Essay

Bucket List


Growing up, I constantly wanted to participate in community service. This desire to help people with their problems, physical or mental, has turned into my hope of becoming a social worker. I want to spend my entire life helping others, yet at one point in my life, I refused to let anybody help me.
Becoming a social worker has been influenced by my personal history. During my high school career I underwent two surgeries. I failed countless musical auditions. I always felt out of place because I was too mature for my age. In March of my junior year, I experienced my best friend turning on me, which turned into three girls from school posting about me on social media. This led to a significant change in my attitude, which was quickly noticed by my parents. I found myself sitting in the doctor’s office, where I experienced an unforgettable moment when I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety.
My immediate reaction was denial. I thought I was a burden to others, and I felt as if I wasn’t worthy of help. I had no interest in talking to friends because I assumed they would make fun of me if I admitted my weaknesses. I wouldn’t tell my mother anything either. But then, during a therapy session, two words on a piece of paper changed my entire mental state.
I walked into my therapist’s office one day, and she was sitting at the table in the middle of the room with markers and blank sheets of paper. As I sat down at the table, she showed me the first sheet of paper where she had written the words, “Bucket List.” I took the paper from her and wrote a long list of things I want to do before I die. Then she gave me a new piece of paper and told me to write my ultimate life goal. My goal was to help others who believed they were not worthy of receiving help; someone just like me.
After that therapy session I slowly let more people into my life. I started with my mother, and then branched out and told two of my closest friends. I asked for their forgiveness because I hadn’t trusted them or allowed them to help me through my struggles. Then I told more of my friends, and I was relieved when not a single person judged me because of my illness. I stopped pushing people away, and I was more open about my feelings. When I started allowing myself to receive help from others, I found strength. I was able to fight the depression and anxiety, and today, I am proud to say that I am able to successfully cope with the stresses of life. I learned that life is not meant to be painless, but I found accepting help makes life a lot less lonely.
Helping others has always been easy for me to do, but receiving help from others turned out to be extremely difficult. I will always remember the day I was diagnosed, because I thought it was the weakest moment of my entire life; but another day I will always remember is the day I finished my treatment. My therapist looked at me at the end of my last appointment with a smile lighting up her face, and she simply said, “You made it.”