Heartache is no Joke.

I’ve realized recently that it isn’t socially acceptable to be heartbroken. People seem to forget about the pain of heartbreak until they are in position themselves. They look down onto you, expecting you to be okay within that very second. They just don’t understand that sometimes “You have to get over it” is just not a logical thing to say. “Getting over it” makes no sense in that moment. “Getting over it” seems damn near impossible. Yet, when you explain that, 9 times out of 10, all you receive is either silence or the classic: “I don’t know what to tell you. All things get better with time.”

What people seem to forget is that heartbreak is a physical pain much like hunger. When you go too long without eating, your stomach starts to have this constant growl and ache. Sometimes it’s easy to ignore, yet at other times you absolutely have to put food into your body otherwise it feels like your stomach is starting to digest itself. Unfortunately, with heartbreak, you can’t just sit down and eat a gallon of ice cream and magically feel better like people expect you to.
I’m not sitting here saying that I wish people could understand what I’m going through, and I’m also not saying that a single person has ever felt this way before. We’ve all had our hearts broken. Some of us with breakups, some with death, and some with a different kind of loss. However, once time passes and the aching slowly goes away, it’s almost like we forget what it feels like to be in mourning. Is it weird of me to say that I never want to forget this feeling?

I’m sure that most people are going to find that very confusing. Why on earth would I want to remember this pain? Honestly, there are a few reasons. The first one is simply because as human beings, we are here to embrace the life that has been given to us. We are here to live, breathe, thrive and feel everything. That might sound pretty “hippie” of me, but this new way of thinking has helped me move on with the recovery process of every ounce of pain I feel.

The second reason is a little more personal, and I will try to not bore you with the gory details. The reason why I lost my previous love is because the timing of our relationship could not have been worse. Between my severe anxiety and depression disorders, there were also issues lying deep in my being that I would have never confronted if I hadn’t been to therapy recently. Because of these things, to say that I treated my fiance badly is an understatement. I treated him terribly. When I look back, I can’t help but think “Damn. He held on so much longer than I ever would have.” Constantly fighting, constantly making him question his self worth, constantly leaving him, and more things that I personally don’t want to have plastered all over the internet, but obviously he should have left me long before he did. All the time that I’m treating him this way, I had no idea that I was as unstable as I truly was. I really had no idea just how far down the hole I had fallen. The pain of this heartbreak will always serve as a reminder to never lose myself again. The guilt that I feel for pulling him into my life when I was so clearly unstable is crippling. If I could go back in time to the day that I met him, I would turn the other cheek and never have talked to him, simply because how I treated him was so badly. But, while talking to one of my friends about feeling this way, they said something to me that really helped me get through a pretty bad time. “Being unstable doesn’t make you ‘the bad guy’, it makes you young.”

I constantly find myself trying to figure out my entire life instead of just letting it pan out the way it’s supposed to. I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and I’m also the type of person who needs an answer for everything. Why did it happen this way? Why did they ever walk into my life? Why did I fall in love with him the second that I met him if it wasn’t meant to be? Life is unfair. Because I fell in love with my ex-fiance the second that I laid eyes on him in high school, I was absolutely sure that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. That’s the only outcome that made sense. I’ve started to realize that sitting here and questioning why it happened and why it failed, I should just be glad that because of this relationship, I realized that I needed to reach out to someone for help. I shouldn’t sit here and be distraught over something that I cannot change, but be thankful for the good times that we had together. Life is funny sometimes, and things always have a way of playing out better than you could ever imagine them to. Holding onto the light, and surrounding yourself with those who fill your heart with love are the only things that you can do to get through the hard times.

Music is Art, and should not be Prideful.

After this past year’s Grammy award show, I have had such a bad taste in my mouth about today’s hit music and top artists. I did not realize how difficult it is for most people to recognize and appreciate true talent. As I am sure most of you heard, Kanye West decided to pull another stunt where he took it upon himself to walk on the stage in order to express how he felt about an artist winning a big award. This time, instead of Taylor Swift, West “pretended” to interrupt Beck’s acceptance speech for album of the year, stating that Beyonce was more deserving of the award.

I remember when Beyonce released her most recent album, because she kept it a secret from everyone (including many people that work for her label), and did not tell a soul until the album was released on iTunes. This was the first time that that has ever been attempted in music history, and the album sold millions of copies. She also restricted single track sales for a week or two so people were forced to buy the album in it’s entirety, claiming that people needed to listen from start to finish so that they could fully understand the story of the album.
Looking back, I can fully appreciate what Beyonce did and how risky it was not advertising the fact that she was releasing an album, because marketing is extremely important in today’s industry.

Now let’s take a look at Beck. A man who plays 17 musical instruments, and who has written every song he has put out himself. Beck has been around for over a decade now, and he’s clearly not slowing down. Beck has toured the world with many headlining tours, and once even toured with Johnny Cash. Beck wrote, produced, arranged, and recorded his entire album all inside his own home.

The Grammy’s are the biggest night of music every year. The Grammy’s are filled with class and high end people who gather together to celebrate one of the greatest gifts that we have in human life. Music brings people together in ways that we cannot even begin to imagine. Looking back into history we see that slaves used to use songs to communicate with each other. Music holds a special place in all of our hearts, and it’s something that deserves to be celebrated. When someone as talented as Beck comes along, he deserves to be appreciated for he is a true artist. Beyonce, on the other hand, has many other people write her songs for her, she doesn’t produce her albums herself, etc. Now I’m not saying that Beyonce isn’t talented by any means. If anyone loves Queen B, it would be this girl, but I also know when to recognize someone as a true artist when they deserve to be recognized.

It makes me so sad to see today’s society ripping true musicians apart, and giving glory to those like Kanye West, who literally view themselves as Gods. Someone who so clearly thinks he and his friends (Jay-Z, Beyonce, etc.) should be held higher than the others around them because they are so popular, but popularity does not define true artistry. We see that when we look at some of the people in Hollywood today like Nicole Richie, Paris Hilton, the Kardasian sisters, etc.

This is just something that has truly been weighing on my heart, and I needed to express it.

…and we pretend that racism doesn’t exist.

Living in West Virginia seems to have both it’s advantages and disadvantages, as would most places. It’s absolutely beautiful here, and there’s a sense of community unlike anywhere I’ve ever traveled. However, sometimes there are people who ruin that by sticking their noses where they don’t belong.

Racism in West Virginia has recently been proven to be a real problem. I’ve just recently learned that in the county bordering where I live, a interracial couple have been experiencing some issues with someone that lives in their neighborhood. The couple owns a small business, and when they went to talk into work one morning, they noticed that someone had spray painted “NIGGER LOVER” across the building. To me, this is childish and completely unnecessary, as it would be to most people. What troubles me, though, is that there are a select group of people that not only feel this is justified, but also find it comical.

I have a very close friend named McKenzie, and she is in a situation like this, and so I see every day what it does to a person to receive negative comments every day about being in a interracial relationship. McKenzie has a boyfriend named Brandon, and well, the two fit together like pb&j. Brandon is African American, he’s a rather large guy considering he was part of West Virginia University’s defensive line up until this past football season. Their personalities fit together almost seamlessly, and honestly, I have never seen her so happy with anyone in her life. I’m so proud of her and all that she has accomplished. She has been through so much within the past few years, and now she has finally gotten a good job, became truly happy with herself, and found a man to share that happiness with. You would think that everyone who knows and loves her would be supportive of this, yet her entire family except a very select few, make snide comments and tell her what a terrible person she is for dating a black guy every single day.

It truly makes no sense to me. Why on earth would someone’s family not be able to see true happiness solely because of the color of someone’s skin? I can only imagine what it would be like to have that argument every day of my life. It would be enough to make a person crazy.

What is even more insane to me, is that when you bring up the fact that McKenzie’s family is racist directly to their face, they will look you in the eye and say that they aren’t racist and that they have no issues with black people. So explain to me what racism is then, if it’s not automatically hating your daughter’s boyfriend who treats her like the princess she is, solely because of the color of his skin.

I guess what I am getting at here is that I would like to say that I admire people who have the courage to be together regardless of race in this single-minded, ignorant world we live in. It really does take courage, and I think that it’s amazing. I would also like to say that I am in love with mixed babies. They are the most gorgeous children, and 99% of people would agree with me, even though they are close-minded to the couple that made the beautiful child. So guys, keep doing what you’re doing. The race of the person should never matter when it comes to true love, and if it does, then you should probably just choose to keep your mouth shut about the subject, because nothing that you say can counteract the love that people share. Get your head out of your ass, America!

Searching for the Answer.

Finding meaning in life is truly difficult. Especially when you have absolutely no idea where to begin. That’s the problem that I am currently facing. There are many life decisions that are just too difficult to make. Deciding whether or not to go to college, and then if you decide to do it then comes the decision as to what classes you are going to take. If you decide not to go to college, you have to find a job that you don’t utterly despise. Finding meaning in your life once you decide not to go to college however, is definitely where I am stuck.

I went to school for a while in Kansas City when I first graduated. I loved it for a while, and then I realized that I needed a change as I began to fall into a pretty deep depression. My homesickness started to grow pretty big, and I finally decided that I couldn’t handle to be 13.5 hours away from my friends and family. I packed up all my stuff into the car, came home, quickly found a job that I hated and started to look for another one. Finally, I found a job at a local coffee house that I loved. I worked there for a little over a year before being terminated for insanely unfair reasons. I have never felt so wronged in my life. My breaks went to the floor one day on my way to work, and I couldn’t make it. I called to let them know, and before I even hung up the phone they told me that I would no longer be on the schedule.
Losing that job was a slap in the face. It truly was. I couldn’t even begin to look for something new, because I was so depressed about losing the one job that I liked and made some pretty good money. It was hard to believe that working at a family owned restaurant I made $9.50 an hour plus tips. I enjoyed working there, minus the little petty drama, but I feel like you find that in every work place.

After I picked myself up again, I found a job at a detox and crisis center as a behavioral health technician. I’m currently still working here, and make $9.93 an hour, but that is still less than I made at the coffee shop once you factor in tips. This winter has hit me hard financially, and the job itself is beginning to take it’s toll on me. The position I have is a night shift, and honestly, I didn’t think that it would be this difficult. The main problem is simply that I find it hard to have any social interaction at all. When I am awake, everyone else is a sleep and vice versa. It’s began to take it’s toll on my relationship. Michael and I find it difficult to even spend time together. Occasionally I will go and wake him up in the morning, but then I have to get home shortly after that to go take care of my dogs after they have been home alone for over 13 hours. All I do on my days off is sleep, and I have the worst eating schedule on the planet.

Needless to say, this new job isn’t particularly the best thing for me. I don’t know how to juggle a life and work. Work basically defines me, and I absolutely hate that. I’m too young to be in a situation like this, but there really isn’t anything that I can do about it. So for now, I tough it out and work through the desire to quit, collect my paycheck, pay my bills, and barely have enough money left to have the little bit of a social life that I do have.

Basically, I truly believe that it’s time for a change, but I have no idea what that change looks like. I was hoping to be planning a wedding by now, but Michael and I aren’t really ready for all that yet. We are supposed to be building our house, too, but some things have gotten in the way of that as well. It’s coming, just very slowly. Then I think that maybe I should take some online classes. I could bring my computer to work with me and do my homework and such in my downtime there. But that raises the question on what I want to do. I’ve really put some thought into interior design. Once I would be married that would be the perfect job for me. I could work out of the house, so when I had kids I could be there for them all the time, which is really what I want in the long run anyway. However, the town we live in is so small, I really don’t know if my own interior design business would even be remotely successful.

All of these things are slowly piling up at my door, and I just don’t know if I have the strength to carry them in anymore. I’m growing weaker by the day, and that’s not what is supposed to happen. You’re supposed to grow as a person the older you get, not the opposite. But can you imagine when all of these things finally get sorted out? I’ll be unstoppable. I just pray that it will happen sooner rather than later, because this really isn’t much of a life. This is a stress-filled burden that is literally turning my hair grey at the age of 21. I guess it’s time to put on my big girl pants and push through until I see the light at the end of the tunnel. The only problem is that I’ve been walking for miles and I still don’t see it.

My Biggest Fear is Coming True.

I’m going to take a minute to be insanely hard on myself and try to explain to the world how messed up I really am. Maybe then someone could shed a little light on what is wrong with me. I know that sounds terrible, but I am at a complete loss here. So please, feel free to try to help me come to a conclusion, because this is the most stressful situation I’ve ever had to deal with.

I understand that relationships are hard. Having a relationship without compromise and maturity is damn near impossible, and maybe that’s what I’m lacking. Or maybe it’s something else.
Ever since I have started my relationship with my fiance I have become an emotionally unstable idiot. One day I’m totally in love with him and want to pursue our relationship and get married and start a family; the next I am literally questioning if I want to be in a relationship with him at all. This basically started shortly after we were engaged. I would start to twist the way I viewed him in my head. I would suddenly think that he was the worst person in the world. I would get it in my head that he was totally wrong for me, just from a simple fight. Because of the way I would just change it began to affect the way that I treated him, ultimately worsening our arguments, making them 10x more intense than they were, which would eventually lead to me freaking out even more and leaving him.

After this would happen, two weeks to a month later I would realize what was going on, almost like I had been absent from my body, and call him apologizing for everything that I had said and done to him within the past few weeks.

This has happened to us twice now in the matter of a year, and for some reason, I’m starting to see the process start over again.

I do realize how stupid this entire blog post must sound, but I really don’t understand what is happening to me. I’m also scared that this “cycle” is a way of my conscience telling me that our relationship isn’t right and isn’t supposed to work out, but that just doesn’t seem to make sense. I love my fiance. I always have, and I know that I always will whether we work out or we don’t. All I want is to make him happy. I want to be the person that I promised him I would be. I want to be by his side through everything he may experience in life. I want to be the person he comes home to every night after work. I want to continue to build our relationship into this unbreakable bond that we should already have, but for some reason I just keep putting a stop to it. I want to walk down the isle and see him standing at the end waiting for me. I want to be the mother of his children. So someone please effin’ explain to me why all off a sudden some days I just wake up and say “Nope. Nvm. Sorry ’bout your luck, babe. I’m just not feeling this anymore.” It’s absolutely insane.

I just don’t want to put him through this anymore, nor does he want to deal with it anymore, and I must say that I cannot blame him for that. Who in their right mind would want to put up with the person that they love constantly changing their mind about their future with them? But once again it brings up the question… why am I doing this? If I truly loved him why would I continue to hurt him over and over again? Part of me wants to let him go just because I fear so deeply that I won’t get over whatever this is anytime soon, but then I realize if I would do that, I would never get another shot. Whether I was truly ready then or not. This is it. This is the last go round. My last shot, and I am just a few short steps away from completely ruining it for good.

I’m just beginning to believe that my fear of commitment and my fear of never being truly happy is taking over my mind. I apologize if I am boring anyone with this nonsense, but I am at a stand still in my life, and would love any advice that anyone would have to give me.

Growing Up is Hard to do.

I was babysitting my 4-year-old niece last Saturday night for my sister and her fiance while they went out to eat with their friends to celebrate someone’s 50th birthday. When I first got to their house my niece was excited to spend time with me, and her little mouth was running 1,000 miles per second. “Hey Savannah, I have Frozen karaoke that we can sing. We can sit here and play with princesses, we can watch Frozen, and sing together, and pet the bunny, and play in the playhouse…” and so on and so forth until her mommy and daddy finally made it out the door.

3 karaoke songs and some intense bunny rabbit cuddling later, we found ourselves cuddled up on the chair watching TV and talking. She asked me when her mommy and daddy would be home and I told her that it wouldn’t be too much longer before they were there. She then asked me if she would be able to live with them forever. I just smiled at her and tried to explain to her that one day she would be a big grown up, and she wouldn’t want to live with them. She looked puzzled for a minute until she finally looked up at me and said “I don’t want to grow up, Savannah.”

Shortly after that, we both fell asleep in the chair until her parents got home.

I’ve never thought that something a 4-year-old could say to me would ever hit me so hard. At that age, we are so dependent on our families. We know nothing else. All we know is that when we need something, mommy and daddy are there for you and they will do whatever it takes to make us smile and be content. Then, as you get older, the resentment comes. You’re suddenly a 12-year-old girl and everything your parents do instantly becomes repulsive and embarrassing. You dream of being an adult and living by yourself and having a husband of your own. You even play house with your friends and pretend that you’re a mommy and you have a job and a car. At that age, being an adult is so glamorous, and it’s all that you are waiting for.

Finally one day, it’s your high school graduation. That joyous day when you walk across that stage to shake your principle’s hand and realize that you will never have to set foot in another school again unless you really wanted to. You are surrounded by your graduating class one last time, and you don’t really realize that you will never see 90% of the faces you’ve seen every day for the last 4 years ever again. For me, that wasn’t so bad of a realization. I was never the most social person in the world, and the people that were close to me were the only ones that I wanted/needed. You all get your diplomas and you throw your ugly graduation hats up in the air, and then you walk out of the ceremony, say your final goodbyes to everyone, snap a few pictures, go home, and then you’re suddenly the adult that you have wanted to be for so long.

The following summer for me was a stressful one. I had a few short months to pack everything I owned into boxes and prepare myself to move halfway across the country to go to a school that I wasn’t particularly ready to be a part of. Which is why I didn’t even make it through a full year there before I came home to my parents, moved back in with them, got a job, and saved up for an apartment in my hometown.

In the process of saving for my apartment and finally moving in, a started a relationship with my high school crush. We met my freshman year and from the day that I saw his face, I knew that there was something special about him. However, our relationship has been anything but easy. Being a military girlfriend is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, not to mention the fact that I constantly question whether or not I am ready for what we have, which leads to many problems. To me, that doesn’t mean that I don’t love him, it just shows that I’m not as mature as I thought I was. I’m not the adult that I thought I was.

Growing up and becoming an adult is the hardest thing that anyone will face. All of those years and all of that yearning to get out of your parents house finally catches up to you to the point where you want nothing more than to be that 4-year-old little girl saying she never wants to leave her parents house. Wanting to be a little kid again where the only thing you have to worry about is the fact that your mom made you a grilled cheese instead of a peanut butter and jelly. Being so young and innocent and still believing that if you’re a good girl or boy Santa Claus will come to your house on Christmas Eve and eat the homemade cookies you left out for him and leave you absolutely everything you asked for when you got to meet him at the shopping mall.

Life is a never-ending cycle and it’s most certainly not a simple one. I guess what I’m saying is, my name is Savannah, and I want to be a little kid again.