My dad died on Valentine’s Day from a cancer in his brain that he fought for a year and a half. I’ll talk about that more one day, but what I want to say now comes from the buildup and the fallout. What I want to say is not about the suffering and turmoil that I watched my dad and my family experience for that year and a half, or the milestones we hit every day that I never mentioned, like the last day he had ice cream or went outside. I want to talk about him and I will. But today, I want to talk about the aftermath. People don’t know what to say about death and dying. They tell you they’re sorry and they could never do what you’re doing, they tell you how strong you are and graceful you’re being, admire how you’re “back to work” or “still able to have fun”. Grievers are told time and time again, nobody knows what the right thing to say is. And we have grace. Giggle it off and nod our heads, tell them thank you and it’s okay. Because it is okay. They aren’t doing anything wrong t...
Nineteen was, and I'm sure of this, the hardest age of my life so far. Nineteen was the age of emotion. Pure, raw, rich, bizarre, emotion. I felt so much that it was honestly overwhelming. There is no words that could properly explain the complete chaos that was my mind in this, the nineteenth year of my life. Let me take you with me on the journey that was my nineteenth lap around the sun. fall: the storm and the badlands Eighteen days after my nineteenth birthday began my journey through my mental "badlands." This was when old me was swept away by an incredible storm, one I never saw coming, one I never ever wanted to be a part of. And when the physical storm was over, I was left lying on my back, looking up at a cloudy sky, wondering where I was and who I was and why everything felt sort of...wrong. At the time, I didn't realize the detrimental effects that my time in the badlands would have on me. It was a weird time. I wasn't quite...