Thursday, November 26, 2015

Someone Who Stays

Hello people! One of my favorite holidays is TODAY! I hung out in my PJs and didn't feel guilty for it. I love Thanksgiving.

Though I have been on an independent writer hiatus for awhile now, I've been writing a dual project with my best friend. Every time I write a book, I dive into it, not only with the characters and the plot, but the messages too. I consider the messages at least a million times. Because I think the best creations is art that makes you understand an emotion you have yet to feel. In the process of writing these books, a certain message has stuck out to me. It just happens that it also ties in with Thanksgiving too.

When I was little child, I didn't know about the darkness of the world. Of course, a part of me knew what death was from the few funerals I attended, but still, death, loss, and depression was far from my reality. My live were full of toys, school, and friends. And, not to mention, my parents, grandparents, and whoever else I had a special connection to.

But my naïve nature went even deeper than that. Back in my young years, I thought my parents were just about perfect. There would be a bad day here and there, but other than that, my mom and dad were my necessities. I was convinced I needed them just as much as the air I breathed, my mom especially. Not that I don't need them anymore, because I do, perhaps not as intensely as I did when I was eight.

As I grew older, the truth hit me. Gradually, I began to see that my parents were never as perfect as thought they were. I saw that some people in my life didn't deserve to be as esteemed as I thought. Finally, I saw the world for what it truly is and even worse, I saw people for who they truly are.

Honestly, it made me angry, noticing those flaws that I was blind to before. There's nothing quite like realizing someone was different from what you originally thought. It leaves you confused, sad, and bitter. And it hurts at times, too.

Then I realized something. Family is one of the greatest gifts because of the flaws. My family puts up with me every single day, the times when I'm grumpy and stupid, or need help for easy things every two minutes. And it's not that they're forced to, either. They chose to love me despite my countless flaws. That's why a family is so great. They're always there.

People say the hardest you can do is say goodbye. But sometimes leaving isn't hard. Sometimes the hardest thing you have to do is stay. To stay when it seems like there's nothing else to fight for. To stay when right has turned wrong. To stay when it hurts deeper than you ever could have imagined.

So, whatever your family situation is, please think God for them. Thank God for people that stay. Maybe it seems like everyone has left you. I don't how that is, but I do know that Jesus never leaves. He gave us thing that last, things that withstand any trial. He gave us forever because He is forever.

Have a great Thanksgiving.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Bottled Up Emotions

"I suppose that's my problem. I give myself very good advice, but very seldom do I take it."

Today, I heard this quote after watching Alice in Wonderland for the first time in forever. Despite how I often I wonder what the point of that movie is, I could definitely relate to this quote. I love to think, to discover new things about life and put those into words--words I express everywhere. But I realize that what you say can be a lot harder than what you do. I struggle with that constantly.

Maybe I'm going through some sort of identity crisis. I think I know who I am, but the more I think about it, I really don't know. I haven't written a full book by myself in about a year now, which is somewhat shocking. It's not that I don't have ideas. I do. But I can't seem to put them in words. The ideas that I can write are ideas that aren't completely my own. I want to have my own ideas; I want to create independently again. Huh, I don't know what my problem is.

I've noticed how much I hide my true feelings. Even when I cried a lot, I hated when people actually saw me cry. Nowadays, I cry rarely. It's funny, I always try to be the friend who listens. Day after day, I simply listen to people talk about their troubles. And that's fine, I love doing that. I've learned that sometimes all someone needs is for a friend to listen to them.

At the same though, I don't express my deep emotions to anyone. I listen to people, but when I need someone to listen to me, there's no one there. Either that, or I just don't want to express my feelings to anyone. It can be the worst feeling--to keep all your anger or sadness bottled up inside. I have no problem expressing happiness and joy. That's my favorite thing to do. But when the time does come, when I find myself angry or depressed, I simply rant to myself with no one to listen. The more I start to notice it, the more I see it's becoming to be a bit of a problem. But it's part of who I am, I suppose. Then again, I just said I'm not sure who I am.

But I look forward to the day when I find out.

So what are your thoughts?

{P.S Credits to my amazing sister, Bernie, who took the picture of these breathtaking trees}