I'm tired, but it's worse than usual, I think. I'd rather stay in bed under the covers than wake up and meet the day. I'm in one of those moods that I used to fall into when I was in undergrad. I thought I would feel better with October being over, but November feels just as heavy. I feel drained, I feel empty. I feel like there's too much and too little all at once. I feel undone, I feel lost.
Sometimes I feel like I don't even know where I am, even though I am fully aware of where I am in the back of my mind. I don't physically or mentally feel present today and I don't expect to be present tomorrow. Everyone is here one second and gone the next. I can feel the people I care about growing out of me, I can see their disappointment in my lack of growth. We all move on at some point, right? I feel stuck, I feel alone.
I keep contemplating what it means to be enough, to do enough. I come up with the same answer every time and I wonder if that will ever change. I already know that I don't do enough, I've never done enough. I always wanted to make a difference in the world. I always wanted to have a lasting impact on the people around me, but I've never been able to influence anyone. Sometimes I wonder if people even see me or if they even know my name. Sometimes I wonder if I'm even real. I feel unseen, I feel unheard.
I don't know how to be strong like everyone else because I've always been weak. I don't know if I'm okay, but I'm here. I don't know much of anything these days.
I'm tired.
Showing posts with label feelings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feelings. Show all posts
Thursday, November 8, 2018
Thursday, October 20, 2016
"It is infinitely better to transplant a heart than to bury it to be devoured by worms"
Happy fifth heartiversary to me! (Or as Dr. Kite referred to it yesterday-"have a heart day.") It's hard to believe that it's been five years since I received my heart. I owe my very existence today to my donor family. Without their difficult decision, it's hard to say whether or not I'd be here today. Of course, I also have to thank the wonderful cardiology team, nurses, and other medical personnel I had at Johns Hopkins-specifically Dr. Scheel, Peggy, Kyle, Mike, Verna, and Dawn. I hold a lifetime of gratitude towards my family for their love, prayers, and patience. To the friends I held dear at the time, I thank you as well for your love. And finally, thank God.
It's strange to try to look back and recall the way things were five years ago. I don't have the best of memories for all the obvious reasons-people tend not to remember traumatic events. I was looking through my main email account yesterday and it's like I was reading about someone I didn't know. Rapid-ish weight loss, an inability to eat without feeling the need to throw, an inability to take medication because of that. All of those awful things among many others. Who was that person? I guess it sometimes surprises me that I was dying at 16. I have the scars to prove survival. Six scars in total. The biggest scar running down the center of my chest, also the same one that makes me cry from time to time when I become really aware of it. I wouldn't wish the way I felt or what I went through five years ago on anyone because it's scary, it's heartbreaking, it's traumatizing, it's everything that so many people are afraid of.
As a heart transplant recipient, life can be really hard. It's not easy to accept that your continued existence is because of someone else's loss. I have ugly days where I feel guilty for still being here. I feel guilty that my donor isn't here but I am. And I feel that guilt because I am unsure of whether or not I deserve my place in the world. And all of that makes me feel sad because even though I never knew my donor (and never would be able to), I know she wouldn't want me to ever feel guilty. I keep realizing time and again that I've been very well loved. And with all that love from so many people, feeling guilty becomes so silly. I am so loved, even on the days where I can't see it clearly. I am so loved. Thank you for loving me on days when I could not find it in me to love myself.
Between this heartiversary and last year's, I got my driver's license, survived a summer of constant research and work, and presented at a research conference. I have a bit of a headache right now so I can't think of any other things to add, but I'd say that's not too shabby. I am incredibly grateful to still be here on this Earth. To live and love people for another day, another month, another year. It's wonderful.
Here's to my fifth heartiversary and hopefully many decades to come!
------
To my heart sister, Millie-our Dragonfly family misses you. It won't be the same without you when all of us get back together. But we will honor your memory by being there for each other and holding our own against whatever obstacles we may face. Love you always and forever. Rest peacefully, friend.
It's strange to try to look back and recall the way things were five years ago. I don't have the best of memories for all the obvious reasons-people tend not to remember traumatic events. I was looking through my main email account yesterday and it's like I was reading about someone I didn't know. Rapid-ish weight loss, an inability to eat without feeling the need to throw, an inability to take medication because of that. All of those awful things among many others. Who was that person? I guess it sometimes surprises me that I was dying at 16. I have the scars to prove survival. Six scars in total. The biggest scar running down the center of my chest, also the same one that makes me cry from time to time when I become really aware of it. I wouldn't wish the way I felt or what I went through five years ago on anyone because it's scary, it's heartbreaking, it's traumatizing, it's everything that so many people are afraid of.
As a heart transplant recipient, life can be really hard. It's not easy to accept that your continued existence is because of someone else's loss. I have ugly days where I feel guilty for still being here. I feel guilty that my donor isn't here but I am. And I feel that guilt because I am unsure of whether or not I deserve my place in the world. And all of that makes me feel sad because even though I never knew my donor (and never would be able to), I know she wouldn't want me to ever feel guilty. I keep realizing time and again that I've been very well loved. And with all that love from so many people, feeling guilty becomes so silly. I am so loved, even on the days where I can't see it clearly. I am so loved. Thank you for loving me on days when I could not find it in me to love myself.
Between this heartiversary and last year's, I got my driver's license, survived a summer of constant research and work, and presented at a research conference. I have a bit of a headache right now so I can't think of any other things to add, but I'd say that's not too shabby. I am incredibly grateful to still be here on this Earth. To live and love people for another day, another month, another year. It's wonderful.
Here's to my fifth heartiversary and hopefully many decades to come!
------
To my heart sister, Millie-our Dragonfly family misses you. It won't be the same without you when all of us get back together. But we will honor your memory by being there for each other and holding our own against whatever obstacles we may face. Love you always and forever. Rest peacefully, friend.
Friday, October 7, 2016
"I watched the world go round and round and see mine turning upside down"
Hello, friends. The word 'hello' looks weird to me today. It's been a long while since you've heard from me. I'll be back again shortly after this post to commemorate my five year transplant anniversary, but until then I'll leave you with how I've been.
I can't describe the past few weeks, or maybe month, as anything less than physically, emotionally, and mentally draining. In short, I've been something of a mess and it's starting to show in my academic performance and my general appearance and mood. I guess fall break couldn't come at a more appropriate time for me. I hope I can recompose myself to a better version of myself.
Happiness has been in and out of my reaches lately. And it's been a little lonely as far as my social life goes. I don't have much of one anymore--everyone is too busy, I feel really out of place and disconnected, and I'm too tired to do anything. I spend much of my free time with my professors and with a few friendly familiar faces in HLSB and that's about it. I guess that makes me kind of lame, but I take what kindness, humor, and love I can get.
I took my modern physics midterm exam today...or at least semi-tried to. I feel bad for Dr. Bly because he has to try to make sense out of my nonsense. You might be thinking that I'm being too hard on myself, but I promise that I'm not. All of my answers were complete rubbish. I wasn't prepared enough and it's obvious that I didn't learn anything in the past several weeks even though I should have. But I guess that's the price you pay when you jump off a cliff and try to build your wings on the way down. The worst part is how anxious I've been leading up to this midterm and knowing that it's not going to be okay. I used to think that any one of my chemistry classes was my match, but I was wrong. I've met my match and it's irrefutably physics and always will be. Dark, complicated, beautiful physics.
I'm still nowhere close to figuring out what to do after graduation. A lot of people tell me that it's okay, but that's hard to believe. I'm 21 and I don't have a clue. I used to think that I'd be that type of person who just goes to school for the rest of their life, but I'm not sure I could survive that much schooling.
Yesterday, I asked Dr. Haubrick why everyone believes in me except for me and she told me something along the lines of this: "Fawzia's biggest critic is Fawzia." I told Dr. Cantwell today that I think people overestimate me and she basically told me that they (the professors) are right in the way they perceive me, meaning that it's time for me to change the way I think of myself. I want to believe them so badly, but I just can't get my brain on board. And I really can't get it on board after that physics midterm. That's just not going to happen. I've become really great at disappointing lately.
I've been listening to Genesis a lot lately and went through a brief phase of listening to Sting and The Police. I think it's been helping to keep me in check...either that or it's been contributing to my overall gloominess. And I can't tell which it is today because today has been rough.
Sorry 'bout that. I sound too negative, I know. I know it doesn't sound like I am trying, but I am. I am trying. I'm just tired. Forgive me for the stream of negativity that has become this blog post. I'm just tired.
I can't describe the past few weeks, or maybe month, as anything less than physically, emotionally, and mentally draining. In short, I've been something of a mess and it's starting to show in my academic performance and my general appearance and mood. I guess fall break couldn't come at a more appropriate time for me. I hope I can recompose myself to a better version of myself.
Happiness has been in and out of my reaches lately. And it's been a little lonely as far as my social life goes. I don't have much of one anymore--everyone is too busy, I feel really out of place and disconnected, and I'm too tired to do anything. I spend much of my free time with my professors and with a few friendly familiar faces in HLSB and that's about it. I guess that makes me kind of lame, but I take what kindness, humor, and love I can get.
I took my modern physics midterm exam today...or at least semi-tried to. I feel bad for Dr. Bly because he has to try to make sense out of my nonsense. You might be thinking that I'm being too hard on myself, but I promise that I'm not. All of my answers were complete rubbish. I wasn't prepared enough and it's obvious that I didn't learn anything in the past several weeks even though I should have. But I guess that's the price you pay when you jump off a cliff and try to build your wings on the way down. The worst part is how anxious I've been leading up to this midterm and knowing that it's not going to be okay. I used to think that any one of my chemistry classes was my match, but I was wrong. I've met my match and it's irrefutably physics and always will be. Dark, complicated, beautiful physics.
I'm still nowhere close to figuring out what to do after graduation. A lot of people tell me that it's okay, but that's hard to believe. I'm 21 and I don't have a clue. I used to think that I'd be that type of person who just goes to school for the rest of their life, but I'm not sure I could survive that much schooling.
Yesterday, I asked Dr. Haubrick why everyone believes in me except for me and she told me something along the lines of this: "Fawzia's biggest critic is Fawzia." I told Dr. Cantwell today that I think people overestimate me and she basically told me that they (the professors) are right in the way they perceive me, meaning that it's time for me to change the way I think of myself. I want to believe them so badly, but I just can't get my brain on board. And I really can't get it on board after that physics midterm. That's just not going to happen. I've become really great at disappointing lately.
I've been listening to Genesis a lot lately and went through a brief phase of listening to Sting and The Police. I think it's been helping to keep me in check...either that or it's been contributing to my overall gloominess. And I can't tell which it is today because today has been rough.
Sorry 'bout that. I sound too negative, I know. I know it doesn't sound like I am trying, but I am. I am trying. I'm just tired. Forgive me for the stream of negativity that has become this blog post. I'm just tired.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
"When there is an organ donor, life springs from death"
Happy fourth heartiversary to me! I make it a point to try to write a blog post for each year that passes and this time I'm not looking back at the old posts for any so-called inspiration. I'm on fall break right now so it means that I have time to be able to reflect and write, but doing both of those things hasn't become any easier considering the subject at hand.
It's a little morbid to lead off with, but I vaguely remember hearing from one of my cousins a few years ago that I looked like I was dying during the time when I was waiting for a heart, or something to that effect. To clarify, one of my cousins was relaying that comment from one of our other cousins so it wasn't something that I heard directly while I was waiting. And, well, it was true. I was dying. I can't look back and say that I wasn't. I couldn't even eat food without feeling an overwhelming urge to throw up. But then most amazing thing happened.
I'll never forget that day. October 19th, 2011, Dr. Scheel dropped by my room. I remember saying something along the lines of this to her: "So, are you here to tell me that there's a heart?" And then the twist came when she said yes. And then I asked her again because I didn't believe her. After she left, I cried and hugged my favorite nurse, Kyle, who just so happened to be taking care of me that day. He told me that he was so happy for me. And because of what happened that day, a 16 year old junior in high school didn't die. A daughter, a little sister, a niece, a cousin, didn't die. I didn't die. By the grace of God, my organ donor and her family, and the incredible transplant team at Hopkins, I lived. Not survived, but lived. I suppose it should be living rather than lived though. Surviving and living, although synonymous, are two different things. And I will be forever grateful.
I don't express my gratitude nearly enough as I should because life returned to what we'll call normal, but I am grateful. I've had my fair share of days where I really do want to give up, but there's always one thing that anchors me above all else (besides religion, family, and friends) and that's my donor. To this day, I don't know anything about her. But I hope that will change in the future when I reach out to her family once more. If anything at all, I just want to say thank you in person to her loved ones because their decision matters just as much as her choice to become an organ donor did.
To everyone who has helped me reach this day in my life, thank you and I love you. Here's to four years and decades more to come!
It's a little morbid to lead off with, but I vaguely remember hearing from one of my cousins a few years ago that I looked like I was dying during the time when I was waiting for a heart, or something to that effect. To clarify, one of my cousins was relaying that comment from one of our other cousins so it wasn't something that I heard directly while I was waiting. And, well, it was true. I was dying. I can't look back and say that I wasn't. I couldn't even eat food without feeling an overwhelming urge to throw up. But then most amazing thing happened.
I'll never forget that day. October 19th, 2011, Dr. Scheel dropped by my room. I remember saying something along the lines of this to her: "So, are you here to tell me that there's a heart?" And then the twist came when she said yes. And then I asked her again because I didn't believe her. After she left, I cried and hugged my favorite nurse, Kyle, who just so happened to be taking care of me that day. He told me that he was so happy for me. And because of what happened that day, a 16 year old junior in high school didn't die. A daughter, a little sister, a niece, a cousin, didn't die. I didn't die. By the grace of God, my organ donor and her family, and the incredible transplant team at Hopkins, I lived. Not survived, but lived. I suppose it should be living rather than lived though. Surviving and living, although synonymous, are two different things. And I will be forever grateful.
I don't express my gratitude nearly enough as I should because life returned to what we'll call normal, but I am grateful. I've had my fair share of days where I really do want to give up, but there's always one thing that anchors me above all else (besides religion, family, and friends) and that's my donor. To this day, I don't know anything about her. But I hope that will change in the future when I reach out to her family once more. If anything at all, I just want to say thank you in person to her loved ones because their decision matters just as much as her choice to become an organ donor did.
To everyone who has helped me reach this day in my life, thank you and I love you. Here's to four years and decades more to come!
Saturday, October 11, 2014
Break
I know it's been a long time since I last blogged. College is the reason for that. Truthfully, freshman year is a joke compared to sophomore year. My free time has been cut in half since last year. Three science classes is nothing to be taken lightly. Everyone is busier than ever and I don't see some people as often as I used to, partly because of the workload from classes and partly because I'm probably not making the effort. I guess things have changed a little.
I've definitely been down a lot more as of recently than I've been happy. I don't know what reasons, or excuses, I can give to explain myself so I won't bother with trying to give any. I think that at the same time while I've been brooding, everyone else has been struggling too. Love, friendship, academics, sanity. And in all of my sulking, I haven't been as good to everyone else as they have been to me. I think my own growth has been hindered by the way I've been behaving.
I suppose I should mention that it's Fall Break right now. Yesterday, I found myself agonizing over my organic chemistry exam to the point where it kind of just made me really sad. I had the chance to see my exam and I really want to kick myself for missing so many easy questions, all of those silly mistakes I made cost me a lot. And so I know that I didn't get an A, but it eats away at me that I probably (hopefully) got a B. After I found out about my exam, I went to sit in BSC and I got to talk Alice before I left. She told me that I wasn't allowed to be productive when I got home so I didn't do anything. I took a nap, tried to watch something, and just let go of school. The conversation that I had with her was one that I was thankful for because it came at the right time. The words that she said were words that I needed to hear. If you keep poking at where it hurts, it's just going to hurt more. Stop poking where it hurts and let it heal.
In other news, my heartiversary is in 9 days. I hope Monday is a good day. Also, Peggy said that I can be a bone marrow donor. I think I'm going to reconfirm, but I'm excited about that.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Freshman Year Concludes
I feel cold. I'm sitting by a window so that's to be expected, I guess. Hard to believe that it's supposed to be in the 80's this week. This is my obligatory end of my freshman year of college post. So much has happened in the span of two academic semesters, good and bad. This past week has been rather sad, probably because everyone is leaving. Everyone leaving SU means that everyone who is away will be coming home or is already home though so there is a bright side.
I've come a long way since the beginning of the year. I hated SU the first few weeks because I felt so alone, but things got better. I made friends throughout the year and those friendships have grown strong. They aren't equivalent to the ones that I have with my friends here at home, but I think they could get there someday. We're still growing after all. We've had some rough patches and there are things that we're still going through, but hand in hand we'll get through all of it. And I won't give up on making things better.
As far as grades are concerned, I'd love to have all A's this semester. However, I think it's a bit unlikely, which is kind of upsetting. I can't continue being so hard on myself just because I don't get an A in a class. College is a learning experience, but not in terms of the information that we learn. It's a time for us to discover/reinvent ourselves and create bonds with people. Sure, we learn important skills along the way, but the most important things we learn are not necessarily related to academics. I genuinely believe that to be true.
Here's to the future semesters that will be filled with joy, confusion, sadness, fear, nuisances, and love. I'm ready to start again.
I've come a long way since the beginning of the year. I hated SU the first few weeks because I felt so alone, but things got better. I made friends throughout the year and those friendships have grown strong. They aren't equivalent to the ones that I have with my friends here at home, but I think they could get there someday. We're still growing after all. We've had some rough patches and there are things that we're still going through, but hand in hand we'll get through all of it. And I won't give up on making things better.
As far as grades are concerned, I'd love to have all A's this semester. However, I think it's a bit unlikely, which is kind of upsetting. I can't continue being so hard on myself just because I don't get an A in a class. College is a learning experience, but not in terms of the information that we learn. It's a time for us to discover/reinvent ourselves and create bonds with people. Sure, we learn important skills along the way, but the most important things we learn are not necessarily related to academics. I genuinely believe that to be true.
Here's to the future semesters that will be filled with joy, confusion, sadness, fear, nuisances, and love. I'm ready to start again.
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Brain Dump
Sometimes, I think I'm the most fortunate person ever. Never mind the celebrities and millionaires, I got dealt a pretty good life. But my feelings about life are flexible, always changing. I can go from feeling very content with life to wishing I never existed in a matter of seconds. Life is a really painful, but beautiful journey.
Recently, I thought about the teachers and professors that have helped me and shaped me along the way. I wrote something off of those thoughts. In each paragraph that I wrote, I gave a brief background of what was happening or had happened in my life. At the end of each paragraph, I wrote how they have helped. Seven completely different individuals and still counting. In fact, I was thinking that I probably unintentionally left out someone who is very near and dear to my heart so let me make that eight instead of seven. Sometimes, it's not my family or my friends that make me feel so alive. As strange as it may sound, I've really enjoyed being around my teachers and professors (Not all of them, of course, just a select few.) I love having conversations with them, because it's different. I can be a different kind of myself with them. The truest version of who I am and who I want to be, I think, gets expressed the best when I'm with my professors.
Like I said earlier though, life isn't all peaches and cream. Even when there are so many people in the world who love you, sometimes you just don't want to exist. Sometimes you think that you're a mistake and/or that you're not worth it. Sometimes you want to run away and/or throw away your current life. Sometimes you want to escape and/or start over. And I think it's okay to feel all of those things. I've been there and back through all of them. When I was younger, I always wanted to run away, but I can't really remember why. Now that I'm older though, I think escape is more accurate. I've always wanted to get away, but it's so hard to tear out your own roots because life gets in the way sometimes. I never wanted to go to SU because I wanted to leave Winchester and Stephens City behind. I love my city and town, but I'm afraid that I might never leave. I love it here, I do, but I need the chance to breathe. Here, in Winchester, in Stephens City, this is where most of my hurts take root, this is where they live and thrive. There are too many memories here and it's overwhelming because I remember bits and pieces of the past wherever I go. It's happening at SU too. I love SU and the people who go there and work there. But after I graduate, I'd like to go somewhere else. I'd like to be in another state, a completely different place where I have to learn on my own.
"These are the scars deep in your heart
This is the place you were born
This is the hole where most of your soul comes ripping out
From the places you've been torn"
-"Always" by Switchfoot
Recently, I thought about the teachers and professors that have helped me and shaped me along the way. I wrote something off of those thoughts. In each paragraph that I wrote, I gave a brief background of what was happening or had happened in my life. At the end of each paragraph, I wrote how they have helped. Seven completely different individuals and still counting. In fact, I was thinking that I probably unintentionally left out someone who is very near and dear to my heart so let me make that eight instead of seven. Sometimes, it's not my family or my friends that make me feel so alive. As strange as it may sound, I've really enjoyed being around my teachers and professors (Not all of them, of course, just a select few.) I love having conversations with them, because it's different. I can be a different kind of myself with them. The truest version of who I am and who I want to be, I think, gets expressed the best when I'm with my professors.
Like I said earlier though, life isn't all peaches and cream. Even when there are so many people in the world who love you, sometimes you just don't want to exist. Sometimes you think that you're a mistake and/or that you're not worth it. Sometimes you want to run away and/or throw away your current life. Sometimes you want to escape and/or start over. And I think it's okay to feel all of those things. I've been there and back through all of them. When I was younger, I always wanted to run away, but I can't really remember why. Now that I'm older though, I think escape is more accurate. I've always wanted to get away, but it's so hard to tear out your own roots because life gets in the way sometimes. I never wanted to go to SU because I wanted to leave Winchester and Stephens City behind. I love my city and town, but I'm afraid that I might never leave. I love it here, I do, but I need the chance to breathe. Here, in Winchester, in Stephens City, this is where most of my hurts take root, this is where they live and thrive. There are too many memories here and it's overwhelming because I remember bits and pieces of the past wherever I go. It's happening at SU too. I love SU and the people who go there and work there. But after I graduate, I'd like to go somewhere else. I'd like to be in another state, a completely different place where I have to learn on my own.
"These are the scars deep in your heart
This is the place you were born
This is the hole where most of your soul comes ripping out
From the places you've been torn"
-"Always" by Switchfoot
Saturday, December 14, 2013
First Semester Reflection
As of yesterday, my first semester as a college freshman ended. Honestly, it's been so surreal. The past couple of months have been so unreal. I can't believe that I won't be waking up early on Monday for class.
I wish I could go back to August and tell myself that it would all turn out just fine. I vaguely remember how I was in the beginning. I was bitter and lonely. I was awkward too, but that doesn't count since I'm always awkward. I'm sitting here trying to think back that far. Those first couple of weeks...I didn't really have anyone. But then something good happened, my awkward self went to Tracy's house for dinner. My awkward self had an awkward good time. And because of that awkward good time, I met people who I now consider to be friends. That's when I met Silvino, who is not only a friend, but also one of the reasons why I have friends. It's kind of funny actually because Silvino ended up being a catalyst for me. My willingness to open up is something that I partly attribute to him. Things slowly began to unwind after he'd continuously acknowledge me and I felt myself becoming more comfortable with being at SU. And eventually, I started to love SU. And the various people that I interacted with frequently soon became people worth holding onto, friends. I think this goes without saying, but I'm really grateful for the new friends I've made.
I think I'm supposed to probably say something about how classes went, right? In an overall sense, they went well. Some classes were definitely a lot better than others, that's for sure. Sometimes classes seem like they are going to be a lot of fun, but then they turn out to be boring and kind of pointless. That did happen. In the same line of thought, sometimes classes seem like they are going to be super difficult or stressful, but they turn out to be pretty chill. Eh, I guess for the last one I should have said lab, ah whatever. And as always, some professors turn out to be better than others. I'm kind of in love with about half of the science professors at SU. Not even slightly ashamed to admit that, because they're so awesome. At this point in time, I'm anxiously waiting for my grades...and eagerly awaiting the start of the second semester because I need human contact.
At first glance, what appeared to be a cruel twist of fate on that August day blossomed into a beautiful blessing. In short, it's been a bittersweet first semester. There are days that I already miss and wish to relive again, BUT there are so many wonderful days that are yet to come and I'm looking forward to them.
I wish I could go back to August and tell myself that it would all turn out just fine. I vaguely remember how I was in the beginning. I was bitter and lonely. I was awkward too, but that doesn't count since I'm always awkward. I'm sitting here trying to think back that far. Those first couple of weeks...I didn't really have anyone. But then something good happened, my awkward self went to Tracy's house for dinner. My awkward self had an awkward good time. And because of that awkward good time, I met people who I now consider to be friends. That's when I met Silvino, who is not only a friend, but also one of the reasons why I have friends. It's kind of funny actually because Silvino ended up being a catalyst for me. My willingness to open up is something that I partly attribute to him. Things slowly began to unwind after he'd continuously acknowledge me and I felt myself becoming more comfortable with being at SU. And eventually, I started to love SU. And the various people that I interacted with frequently soon became people worth holding onto, friends. I think this goes without saying, but I'm really grateful for the new friends I've made.
I think I'm supposed to probably say something about how classes went, right? In an overall sense, they went well. Some classes were definitely a lot better than others, that's for sure. Sometimes classes seem like they are going to be a lot of fun, but then they turn out to be boring and kind of pointless. That did happen. In the same line of thought, sometimes classes seem like they are going to be super difficult or stressful, but they turn out to be pretty chill. Eh, I guess for the last one I should have said lab, ah whatever. And as always, some professors turn out to be better than others. I'm kind of in love with about half of the science professors at SU. Not even slightly ashamed to admit that, because they're so awesome. At this point in time, I'm anxiously waiting for my grades...and eagerly awaiting the start of the second semester because I need human contact.
At first glance, what appeared to be a cruel twist of fate on that August day blossomed into a beautiful blessing. In short, it's been a bittersweet first semester. There are days that I already miss and wish to relive again, BUT there are so many wonderful days that are yet to come and I'm looking forward to them.
Below is the song I listened to while writing this post. Scottish Gaelic is so pretty. ♥
Monday, November 18, 2013
Fragmented Feelings
November 14th, 2013
There are all sorts of people in the world. There are some who have their whole lives written out in ink. There are others who change their minds once they figure out what they truly want. And then there are people like me who drift along with no clue whatsoever.
I've never understood why people think that I'm going to do great things in life. Sure, I get good grades and I've faced my own fair share of hardship, but that's not at all indicative of who I will be in the future or what I will do someday. What is it that people see in me? I'm not a genius or a whiz kid like other people I know.
I do want to do great things in the future, but I'm a dreamer not a doer. I am words without the actions, spineless. Don't people see that? I don't know how to become a doer. I don't know how to make a difference in people's lives. I lack the courage and confidence that determined people have. I lack the spirit and fire that passionate people have.
I'm afraid of being a disappointment. No one wants to be a disappointment. My professors at SU, I want them to see me succeed, I want them to be proud of me. I don't want to let them down. They've made such a difference in my life. I'm not just a number, a face, or a name to them, I'm a real person with feelings and dreams.
November 17th, 2013
In the past couple of weeks, I've had some really great times. I've been visibly happier, I think. But I've become a lot sadder too and I can't quite understand why. I've become increasingly chattier in the days that have passed, but I haven't quite been able to get past surface conversations. Heart to heart conversations are hard to start. I like heart to heart conversations the best. I like hearing about what people have gone through and the way they feel and why they feel the way that they do. That's not to say that I don't like being silly and goofy, because I enjoy being a clown, but I can't express all of myself through sass and witty remarks.
I'll be honest. I loved high school overall, but I don't really find myself missing it. But lately, there is one thing that I wish for. The ability to talk to my professors. Of course, I didn't just talk to anyone back at Sherando, only very special teachers. When I couldn't talk to my peers or my friends, I would talk to the only people who seemed like they could fathom how I felt: the adults. I mean the science professors at SU are really great (most of them are anyway) and I really do enjoy being around them. Lately, I just really want to talk to them. I want to talk to my professors, not my friends. I don't know why, but I've always kind of been this way ever since seventh grade. I like talking to adults about how I feel, but I've also discovered that talking to them can cause them a lot of grief. I don't want to burden anyone with my feelings. Emotions are such complicated little things. Anyway, it's not that I can't talk to my professors, I know that I can, but I don't want to inconvenience them or put them behind in their work or keep them from assisting someone else who's struggling to learn some material.
November 18th, 2013
I've always wanted to make a difference in people's lives. When I was little, I wanted to be a doctor so that I could help people. I wanted to help save lives because I didn't want people to go through things that I had gone through. Now that I'm older, I've come to realize that it's really difficult to have an impact on people. I don't usually tell people my story, because it doesn't change people's minds and hearts. It's impacted very few people. It's not a story that needs to be told, but I always thought that if I told it then people would understand who I am and why I behave the way I do. If they only knew, then they'd understand why I'm quick to treasure people and hesitant to let them go. It's hard to make a difference. It looks and feels so easy with all of the people around me doing amazing things, but it's not. Transforming words into actions is actually one of the toughest things to do. You have to really want it, and even then it's sometimes not enough. I don't know what I want to do in the future. I don't even know if science is really for me. There's nothing else that I'm even remotely good at. Science is all I have going for me. It's the only thing that I'm interested in.
There are all sorts of people in the world. There are some who have their whole lives written out in ink. There are others who change their minds once they figure out what they truly want. And then there are people like me who drift along with no clue whatsoever.
I've never understood why people think that I'm going to do great things in life. Sure, I get good grades and I've faced my own fair share of hardship, but that's not at all indicative of who I will be in the future or what I will do someday. What is it that people see in me? I'm not a genius or a whiz kid like other people I know.
I do want to do great things in the future, but I'm a dreamer not a doer. I am words without the actions, spineless. Don't people see that? I don't know how to become a doer. I don't know how to make a difference in people's lives. I lack the courage and confidence that determined people have. I lack the spirit and fire that passionate people have.
I'm afraid of being a disappointment. No one wants to be a disappointment. My professors at SU, I want them to see me succeed, I want them to be proud of me. I don't want to let them down. They've made such a difference in my life. I'm not just a number, a face, or a name to them, I'm a real person with feelings and dreams.
November 17th, 2013
In the past couple of weeks, I've had some really great times. I've been visibly happier, I think. But I've become a lot sadder too and I can't quite understand why. I've become increasingly chattier in the days that have passed, but I haven't quite been able to get past surface conversations. Heart to heart conversations are hard to start. I like heart to heart conversations the best. I like hearing about what people have gone through and the way they feel and why they feel the way that they do. That's not to say that I don't like being silly and goofy, because I enjoy being a clown, but I can't express all of myself through sass and witty remarks.
I'll be honest. I loved high school overall, but I don't really find myself missing it. But lately, there is one thing that I wish for. The ability to talk to my professors. Of course, I didn't just talk to anyone back at Sherando, only very special teachers. When I couldn't talk to my peers or my friends, I would talk to the only people who seemed like they could fathom how I felt: the adults. I mean the science professors at SU are really great (most of them are anyway) and I really do enjoy being around them. Lately, I just really want to talk to them. I want to talk to my professors, not my friends. I don't know why, but I've always kind of been this way ever since seventh grade. I like talking to adults about how I feel, but I've also discovered that talking to them can cause them a lot of grief. I don't want to burden anyone with my feelings. Emotions are such complicated little things. Anyway, it's not that I can't talk to my professors, I know that I can, but I don't want to inconvenience them or put them behind in their work or keep them from assisting someone else who's struggling to learn some material.
November 18th, 2013
I've always wanted to make a difference in people's lives. When I was little, I wanted to be a doctor so that I could help people. I wanted to help save lives because I didn't want people to go through things that I had gone through. Now that I'm older, I've come to realize that it's really difficult to have an impact on people. I don't usually tell people my story, because it doesn't change people's minds and hearts. It's impacted very few people. It's not a story that needs to be told, but I always thought that if I told it then people would understand who I am and why I behave the way I do. If they only knew, then they'd understand why I'm quick to treasure people and hesitant to let them go. It's hard to make a difference. It looks and feels so easy with all of the people around me doing amazing things, but it's not. Transforming words into actions is actually one of the toughest things to do. You have to really want it, and even then it's sometimes not enough. I don't know what I want to do in the future. I don't even know if science is really for me. There's nothing else that I'm even remotely good at. Science is all I have going for me. It's the only thing that I'm interested in.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Reflecting on Two Years
Happy two year heartiversary to me. Two years ago, I was given the single most important gift I'll ever receive in my whole entire life: a second chance to live freely and love unconditionally.
It feels surreal to have made it this far. Two years ago, I would never have imagined that I'd still be here, but I'm glad to be. I feel guilty admitting this, but I don't wake up every morning and think to myself how thankful I am to be here. I know it's wrong, but I never realized how quickly I'd return to having a "normal" life, how quickly I'd become my usual ungrateful self. But I am thankful. I've experienced so much in the past two years. And no matter how unpleasant or painful or stressful some days were, I'm still thankful for them.
I met people who could fully understand my feelings and what I've been through. I went hiking for the first time. I went to the drive-in theatre. I stayed out late on so many nights with my friends. I graduated from high school. And now I'm a college student. All of those things have happened since my first heartiversary.
I think around this time last year, I was still struggling with acceptance. I'm not anymore. But I haven't gotten closure yet. I have a letter that I still need to write and mail out. I wonder if there's a reason why I've waited so long, I think it's probably due to laziness. At the same time though, I wonder if it's because I'm afraid of my donor family choosing to not respond back. I want to meet them in person someday so I can get to know her.
I don't tell people my story. I used to wonder why no one ever asked me about why I was gone when I came back to school in junior year. How many of them silently already knew? I wanted people to ask me. I don't hold anything against people for not asking. It's hard to ask about something like this, isn't it? Maybe it was because no one wanted me to feel uncomfortable. Even though I don't tell my story, I don't try to hide it. If someone finds out by reading my blog then so be it. Why should I hide? I'm not ashamed of being a heart transplant recipient and I never will be. Please don't ever feel sorry for me.
I'm not sure how much I remember from two years ago. I remember throwing up and feeling awful. I remember moments from the days I spent in the hospital like when Aisha and I played Sorry with Mike and when Kyle and I would watch Lingo together. And when Leigh, Aisha, Johnny, and I played the card game version of Sorry. Verna's kind personality and Mary Lou's cheerful disposition, I remember that too. I remember holding onto Kyle's hand when I had that dreadful NG tube put in; I hate that thing. I remember putting together a puzzle with Aisha and Nisha on the day I got out, I think it was. I don't remember being taken back to the hospital the next morning, but I do vaguely remember opening up my eyes and acknowledging that I was in the hospital; my blood pressure was insane at that time. I remember Kyle's birthday and how he shared his piece of cake with me and Aisha. I remember Halloween and how my hair was pulled into two pigtails; I still have the two hair ties somewhere. I remember crying on the morning of the procedure. I remember when Casey came to see me and brought jelly beans with her for me. I remember my Eid surprise from Bushra's family.
But my favorite moment from that time period is a sequence of moments. Dr. Scheel and Pat walked into my room one day. I thought to myself sarcastically about how they were going to tell me that they found a heart. And then Dr. Scheel said exactly that and I was so shocked that I couldn't believe her. I can't remember if that was when I started crying or not. I saw Kyle shortly after and he hugged me and said that he was happy for me. I know I was crying then.
I've come a long way in two years though. I've reached my minimum of three medications at last. I reached it a while back ago actually. Honestly, I don't know how I managed to take so many pills two years ago. I don't know how the me back then endured all of that pain. I see the scars, but I don't remember the pain. That's probably for the better. But I'm not the only who had to overcome a lot. Sometimes I wonder if it was me who went through more hardship back then or if it was my family instead. I know that I still worry them from time to time, but I think they'll always worry no matter what.
I wonder how much I've changed, if at all. I wonder because of cellular memory. It's just a theory, but I wonder if I've picked up any of her habits or if I like any of the things that she liked. It doesn't seem like I've changed much at all. I know that she was a good person. I know that her family is loving, I know that they are thoughtful and caring people. If they weren't, they never would have made the decision that they did.
My thoughts are really scattered today. Honestly, I don't even know what to write, which is why it seems like I'm rambling. I don't know what to say anymore. I'm just happy to still be here. I'm thankful for each and every day that has passed. I'm thankful to my donor family for their decision. I'm thankful to my family for always loving me and looking after me. I'm thankful to my doctors and nurses and all other medical personnel who took excellent care of me and were so incredibly dedicated. I'm thankful to my DCM family who's always given me kind words of encouragement and support. And last, but not least, I'm thankful to my friends for putting up with me and being by my side no matter how many miles separate us. Thank you to all of you. I love you all. ♥
Most people only have one birthday, but I've been blessed enough to have two. ♥
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"Another fall day. An infinite blue sky to look up at, a thousand beautiful trees to enjoy, a hundred blows of the wind to refresh, a second chance and one lovely heart to love it all" - Shradha
"It is infinitely better to transplant a heart than to bury it to be devoured by worms."
- Christiaan Barnard
It feels surreal to have made it this far. Two years ago, I would never have imagined that I'd still be here, but I'm glad to be. I feel guilty admitting this, but I don't wake up every morning and think to myself how thankful I am to be here. I know it's wrong, but I never realized how quickly I'd return to having a "normal" life, how quickly I'd become my usual ungrateful self. But I am thankful. I've experienced so much in the past two years. And no matter how unpleasant or painful or stressful some days were, I'm still thankful for them.
I met people who could fully understand my feelings and what I've been through. I went hiking for the first time. I went to the drive-in theatre. I stayed out late on so many nights with my friends. I graduated from high school. And now I'm a college student. All of those things have happened since my first heartiversary.
I think around this time last year, I was still struggling with acceptance. I'm not anymore. But I haven't gotten closure yet. I have a letter that I still need to write and mail out. I wonder if there's a reason why I've waited so long, I think it's probably due to laziness. At the same time though, I wonder if it's because I'm afraid of my donor family choosing to not respond back. I want to meet them in person someday so I can get to know her.
I don't tell people my story. I used to wonder why no one ever asked me about why I was gone when I came back to school in junior year. How many of them silently already knew? I wanted people to ask me. I don't hold anything against people for not asking. It's hard to ask about something like this, isn't it? Maybe it was because no one wanted me to feel uncomfortable. Even though I don't tell my story, I don't try to hide it. If someone finds out by reading my blog then so be it. Why should I hide? I'm not ashamed of being a heart transplant recipient and I never will be. Please don't ever feel sorry for me.
I'm not sure how much I remember from two years ago. I remember throwing up and feeling awful. I remember moments from the days I spent in the hospital like when Aisha and I played Sorry with Mike and when Kyle and I would watch Lingo together. And when Leigh, Aisha, Johnny, and I played the card game version of Sorry. Verna's kind personality and Mary Lou's cheerful disposition, I remember that too. I remember holding onto Kyle's hand when I had that dreadful NG tube put in; I hate that thing. I remember putting together a puzzle with Aisha and Nisha on the day I got out, I think it was. I don't remember being taken back to the hospital the next morning, but I do vaguely remember opening up my eyes and acknowledging that I was in the hospital; my blood pressure was insane at that time. I remember Kyle's birthday and how he shared his piece of cake with me and Aisha. I remember Halloween and how my hair was pulled into two pigtails; I still have the two hair ties somewhere. I remember crying on the morning of the procedure. I remember when Casey came to see me and brought jelly beans with her for me. I remember my Eid surprise from Bushra's family.
But my favorite moment from that time period is a sequence of moments. Dr. Scheel and Pat walked into my room one day. I thought to myself sarcastically about how they were going to tell me that they found a heart. And then Dr. Scheel said exactly that and I was so shocked that I couldn't believe her. I can't remember if that was when I started crying or not. I saw Kyle shortly after and he hugged me and said that he was happy for me. I know I was crying then.
I've come a long way in two years though. I've reached my minimum of three medications at last. I reached it a while back ago actually. Honestly, I don't know how I managed to take so many pills two years ago. I don't know how the me back then endured all of that pain. I see the scars, but I don't remember the pain. That's probably for the better. But I'm not the only who had to overcome a lot. Sometimes I wonder if it was me who went through more hardship back then or if it was my family instead. I know that I still worry them from time to time, but I think they'll always worry no matter what.
I wonder how much I've changed, if at all. I wonder because of cellular memory. It's just a theory, but I wonder if I've picked up any of her habits or if I like any of the things that she liked. It doesn't seem like I've changed much at all. I know that she was a good person. I know that her family is loving, I know that they are thoughtful and caring people. If they weren't, they never would have made the decision that they did.
My thoughts are really scattered today. Honestly, I don't even know what to write, which is why it seems like I'm rambling. I don't know what to say anymore. I'm just happy to still be here. I'm thankful for each and every day that has passed. I'm thankful to my donor family for their decision. I'm thankful to my family for always loving me and looking after me. I'm thankful to my doctors and nurses and all other medical personnel who took excellent care of me and were so incredibly dedicated. I'm thankful to my DCM family who's always given me kind words of encouragement and support. And last, but not least, I'm thankful to my friends for putting up with me and being by my side no matter how many miles separate us. Thank you to all of you. I love you all. ♥
Most people only have one birthday, but I've been blessed enough to have two. ♥
-------
"Another fall day. An infinite blue sky to look up at, a thousand beautiful trees to enjoy, a hundred blows of the wind to refresh, a second chance and one lovely heart to love it all" - Shradha
"It is infinitely better to transplant a heart than to bury it to be devoured by worms."
- Christiaan Barnard
Thursday, April 25, 2013
"I don't wanna lose you now"
She drove me home from school today. It was the very first time she's ever driven me anywhere of actual distance. We were talking comfortably on the way back to my house from Walgreens, where we stopped by briefly after the FBLA meeting ended. She told me about her interest in genealogy, said it gave her a sense of importance to document that people once existed, that she'd be visiting graveyards and taking pictures so people could find someone they're searching for. I was telling her that the three of us should hang out over the summer since he'll be home from college with nothing to do. She agreed to that and I know it's because she misses him like I do; he's always been one to genuinely listen for the most part. When she pulled into my driveway, we were talking about the future. We talked for a little while about our respective colleges (VT for her and SU for myself), our financial aid, scholarships, the cost of college, and about leaving high school. She took notice of how the front railing of the porch was taken away and of the slabs of brick laying on top of the dull gray. I told her that my father wanted to eventually sell the house so we could move. We stopped our conversation when my father got home. The green car was waiting a little ways before the driveway, almost as though he meant to park in the driveway and was waiting for her to move. He parked on the side, but she still decided to go then, probably out of embarrassment. I can't remember if I told her to drive safely, something I try to tell all of my friends as though it puts a protective spell over them.
A little while later as I was working on a brown, green, and blue striped bracelet, I thought about what I didn't ask her, what I really wanted to know. Would she miss me? Would she try to stay in touch? I feel ridiculous for wondering, especially after all she and I have been through as friends. Some people would think me silly, but I just don't know what the future holds for us. Just like in the movie 'Stand and Deliver,' you can see the turn, but not the road. I can see the turn for both of us, but I don't see the road. I don't know if the road splits and intersects later or not. I know that I will let her spread her wings and fly, because I had to let him undergo the same process last year. And for being miles away, he didn't leave me like I once assumed he would. He stayed. With all the miles that will separate her and I, I can't help but wonder if she will stay. If they both will stay. Or if I will stay. It could go either way. For right now, I hope the three of us stay, just for a little while longer for my own selfishness.
"I don't wanna lose you now, I'm lookin' right at the other half of me" // "'Cause it's like you're my mirror, my mirror staring back at me" // "'Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go" - Mirrors by Justin Timberlake
[While the song lyrics may not be relative to all of this, it played on her car radio. Plus, I like the song. And really, I don't want to lose her now, or him for that matter.]
A little while later as I was working on a brown, green, and blue striped bracelet, I thought about what I didn't ask her, what I really wanted to know. Would she miss me? Would she try to stay in touch? I feel ridiculous for wondering, especially after all she and I have been through as friends. Some people would think me silly, but I just don't know what the future holds for us. Just like in the movie 'Stand and Deliver,' you can see the turn, but not the road. I can see the turn for both of us, but I don't see the road. I don't know if the road splits and intersects later or not. I know that I will let her spread her wings and fly, because I had to let him undergo the same process last year. And for being miles away, he didn't leave me like I once assumed he would. He stayed. With all the miles that will separate her and I, I can't help but wonder if she will stay. If they both will stay. Or if I will stay. It could go either way. For right now, I hope the three of us stay, just for a little while longer for my own selfishness.
"I don't wanna lose you now, I'm lookin' right at the other half of me" // "'Cause it's like you're my mirror, my mirror staring back at me" // "'Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go" - Mirrors by Justin Timberlake
[While the song lyrics may not be relative to all of this, it played on her car radio. Plus, I like the song. And really, I don't want to lose her now, or him for that matter.]
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
And So Begins The End
I'm in Web Tech right now, supposed to be working in Publisher, but I suddenly got the urge to blog. The feeling like I need to say what I'm thinking. Today marks the beginning of the 4th and final quarter of my senior year. It's an ending as much as it is a beginning, for me and my fellow classmates.
I'm actually having a pretty good morning and day so far. I expected it to be awful because of calculus, but I was wrong. It turned out to be a calm, easygoing class period for a change. It made me happy. We were reminded by Mrs. Berry that the 4th quarter has begun.
I have mixed feelings. I'm very happy that it's all coming to an end, but I'm sad at the same time. I've been seeing the same people for so long, some for more than four years, but I know that we can't stay this way forever. It's almost time to go. It's difficult for us to accept that this is really going to be the end. We will never walk the halls of Sherando as students ever again.
It tears me up inside actually. I'm trying to be really indifferent about graduation, because I promised myself that I wouldn't be sad. I want to be happy that it all happened. All of these people I've met and loved along the way, I have to be happy for them. It's not going to do any good to dwell on the time I've spent here at Sherando.
It's not over yet though. I still have time. And while I still have time, I'm going to make it count for something. I'm going to make it last.
Monday, March 25, 2013
"Heaven forbid you end up alone"
I need to be honest with myself...so I'm blogging. (Deepak, you happy now?) Those who know me well enough already know that this is going to be a somewhat gloomy post, but I think it's progress since I'm finally admitting that there is a problem. I need to change.
I typically have a low self-esteem. The people who truly know me inside and out can attest to that. Self-esteem often differs depending on the goings on, but I'm usually pretty down on myself. Of course, I have my own silly reasons for being this way. My self-esteem goes hand in hand with what I believe my self-worth to be. I wonder how many people have been able to sense my perception of my own self-worth because I don't know how strongly it shows through.
Like I said, I have my reasons for these negative feelings. If I'm being honest, I really don't believe in myself and I really don't believe I'm worth anything. I never have. I don't want that 'never have' sentiment to become 'never will.' My reasons include things like my appearance, my personality, and my intelligence level. All three of those things are my fault and mine alone.
Ever since middle school, I've hated the way I look; I don't think appearance mattered much to me in elementary school. I feel like I don't fit society's standards of what a beautiful woman should look like, and it really sucks. It sucks to go around and think that everyone is judging you because you're huge and not visually appealing. Am I starting to sound self-pitying right about now? My apologies, I am sincerely trying to change that part of myself though by eating well and exercising daily. Change won't happen right away, but at least I'm trying.
A lot of people seem to like me, but I honestly can't understand why. According to many people, I'm the nice and quiet type. Yeah, I guess I can agree with that. But there's this one thing that spoils my personality: my lack of confidence. I explained my lack of confidence to a couple of teachers and they thought it was somewhat comical so let me relay it to you now. I basically stated that I have no confidence in all situations so that if by chance something good happens then I can pleased with myself and feel good. When it comes to bad things happening, I'll still feel bad, but at least I had it coming. (I suppose that last bit is the funny part.)
And last but not least, my intelligence level. People have this belief, even without knowing me, that I am intelligent. You might be thinking that I should just shut up and take it as a compliment whether it is true or not. Truthfully, I don't see myself as intelligent. In fact, what is it that people base intelligence on? I've often wondered that. I met someone a few years ago and I thought he was brilliant, but he did so poorly in school because he didn't really care. I don't think intelligence can be measured on school smarts or street smarts, or even an IQ test. What makes you better than the person next to you anyway? Anyway, back to my point, I don't view myself as intelligent purely because I don't want to become arrogant. I have my own moments of arrogance and I don't like them. I'd rather be a humble person. However, I need to accept that certain things come easier for me than they do for others, and vice versa.
Even transplantation didn't "fix" me. I still don't feel worth it most of the time, but I want to feel worth it for her. She keeps me from truly destroying myself. I sometimes think about her and tell myself that I'm going to be happy for the both of us. I want to be confident for the both of us. I owe her that much. I'm not only living my own life, I'm living hers too. (I know a lot of people would love to argue about that with me, but unless you're a heart transplant recipient, you can't possibly understand.) Or rather, she is living within me and continuing her life through me. Either way, that's why I have to make these seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years worthwhile.
I kind of do want to talk about the song lyrics in the title. "Heaven forbid you end up alone" is from a song called Heaven Forbid by The Fray. (I am listening to it on repeat as I write this post.) I don't know the intended meaning of the song or for what purpose the song was written, but I have my own attachment to it.
I think I've sort of strayed away from my overall point, but oh well. I'm just trying to accept myself, change what I can, and work on being happy. It's much easier said than done, but I know I can do it if I work at it.
I typically have a low self-esteem. The people who truly know me inside and out can attest to that. Self-esteem often differs depending on the goings on, but I'm usually pretty down on myself. Of course, I have my own silly reasons for being this way. My self-esteem goes hand in hand with what I believe my self-worth to be. I wonder how many people have been able to sense my perception of my own self-worth because I don't know how strongly it shows through.
Like I said, I have my reasons for these negative feelings. If I'm being honest, I really don't believe in myself and I really don't believe I'm worth anything. I never have. I don't want that 'never have' sentiment to become 'never will.' My reasons include things like my appearance, my personality, and my intelligence level. All three of those things are my fault and mine alone.
Ever since middle school, I've hated the way I look; I don't think appearance mattered much to me in elementary school. I feel like I don't fit society's standards of what a beautiful woman should look like, and it really sucks. It sucks to go around and think that everyone is judging you because you're huge and not visually appealing. Am I starting to sound self-pitying right about now? My apologies, I am sincerely trying to change that part of myself though by eating well and exercising daily. Change won't happen right away, but at least I'm trying.
A lot of people seem to like me, but I honestly can't understand why. According to many people, I'm the nice and quiet type. Yeah, I guess I can agree with that. But there's this one thing that spoils my personality: my lack of confidence. I explained my lack of confidence to a couple of teachers and they thought it was somewhat comical so let me relay it to you now. I basically stated that I have no confidence in all situations so that if by chance something good happens then I can pleased with myself and feel good. When it comes to bad things happening, I'll still feel bad, but at least I had it coming. (I suppose that last bit is the funny part.)
And last but not least, my intelligence level. People have this belief, even without knowing me, that I am intelligent. You might be thinking that I should just shut up and take it as a compliment whether it is true or not. Truthfully, I don't see myself as intelligent. In fact, what is it that people base intelligence on? I've often wondered that. I met someone a few years ago and I thought he was brilliant, but he did so poorly in school because he didn't really care. I don't think intelligence can be measured on school smarts or street smarts, or even an IQ test. What makes you better than the person next to you anyway? Anyway, back to my point, I don't view myself as intelligent purely because I don't want to become arrogant. I have my own moments of arrogance and I don't like them. I'd rather be a humble person. However, I need to accept that certain things come easier for me than they do for others, and vice versa.
Even transplantation didn't "fix" me. I still don't feel worth it most of the time, but I want to feel worth it for her. She keeps me from truly destroying myself. I sometimes think about her and tell myself that I'm going to be happy for the both of us. I want to be confident for the both of us. I owe her that much. I'm not only living my own life, I'm living hers too. (I know a lot of people would love to argue about that with me, but unless you're a heart transplant recipient, you can't possibly understand.) Or rather, she is living within me and continuing her life through me. Either way, that's why I have to make these seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years worthwhile.
I kind of do want to talk about the song lyrics in the title. "Heaven forbid you end up alone" is from a song called Heaven Forbid by The Fray. (I am listening to it on repeat as I write this post.) I don't know the intended meaning of the song or for what purpose the song was written, but I have my own attachment to it.
Heaven Forbid by The Fray
"Twenty years, it's breaking you down
now that you understand there's no one around
Take a breath, just take a seat
you're falling apart and tearing at the seams
Heaven forbid you end up alone, you don't know why
Hold on tight, wait for tomorrow, you'll be alright"
now that you understand there's no one around
Take a breath, just take a seat
you're falling apart and tearing at the seams
Heaven forbid you end up alone, you don't know why
Hold on tight, wait for tomorrow, you'll be alright"
That bit is only the beginning part of the song, but every time I listen to it I can't help but feel something click. I don't want to be alone because of the way I perceive myself. If I keep this up and really let my self-pitying and insecure self rule over my life, I will end up alone. I know that I will relapse over and over again, but as long as I do my best and hold on, I know I can change. I need to start believing in myself like others do. I need to come to the realization that I am as brilliant as the next person.
I think I've sort of strayed away from my overall point, but oh well. I'm just trying to accept myself, change what I can, and work on being happy. It's much easier said than done, but I know I can do it if I work at it.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Dragonfly Retreat
I just had one of the most amazing weekends of my entire life, one of the best actually. I went to the Dragonfly Heart Camp Retreat at NorthBay in Maryland. I didn't realize that this weekend would make me feel so much better and hopeful. I met other heart transplant recipients, a lung transplant recipient, and pulmonary hypertension patients, in addition to some medical personnel. I thoroughly enjoyed the weekend. I can't even express how amazing it was for me and for my new friends.
I knew that there were other transplant recipients running around somewhere, but I never could find them...until now. I met people who are more than 5 years out of transplant, even 15 years and more. It was incredible. It gives me hope for the future. I'm not a statistic. No one gets to tell me that because I'm a transplant recipient I'll only live for a certain amount of time, because of the people I met.
I'm not going to be able to say everything that I want to say, but I'm going to at least try to say some more. I just have so much to say about this weekend. We all learned something and had the chance to discuss a lot of things. It was nice to be around people who understand me because they've been there. They know how it feels and so I don't have to feel alone in the world anymore. I have a strong support team now with people who truly do understand what it's like. This experience has made me stronger. I now take my medicine without my applesauce. I refuse to go back to it because if my friends can take theirs without something like that, then I can too.
While at camp, I found myself starting to think 'Wow, your life was so much worse than mine,' but then I realized that we've all had it tough and that includes me too. I can't say that their experience is worse than mine or that they feel more pain than I do. We've all had it rough, but it's made us so much stronger and all the more motivated. We are inspirations to each other, because each one of us has fought their own fight and still continues to move on and push for another day to live. We all have a purpose in life.
Feelings aside, this was an extremely fun filled weekend. There was ziplinig, the swing, rock climbing, indoor bonfires, smores, playing ping pong, table hockey, and pool, and just having fun with each other. The girls and I stayed up the second night to talk. It was a lot of fun.
My thoughts are all over the place. I really miss camp. I miss my friends. I miss being able to take medicine with other people. I miss doing all of those fun activities. I miss having breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. I miss the story telling and the crafts. I miss everything. And I am a little sad, but I know that I'll see everyone again. Even if I don't, they're always with me because of the special bond we've created. No one can break that. Together, we are stronger. I'm not alone.
It was a life changing experience.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Five heart transplant recipients, ten souls" - Derek
"Shit's about to hit the fan" - Bre (She said something like this, haha)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Link to a compilation of pictures and a video from Dragonfly: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ljytvb264JU
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've dubbed Johns Hopkins as JHOP since Children's Hospital of Philadelphia is shortened to CHOP. :)
I knew that there were other transplant recipients running around somewhere, but I never could find them...until now. I met people who are more than 5 years out of transplant, even 15 years and more. It was incredible. It gives me hope for the future. I'm not a statistic. No one gets to tell me that because I'm a transplant recipient I'll only live for a certain amount of time, because of the people I met.
I'm not going to be able to say everything that I want to say, but I'm going to at least try to say some more. I just have so much to say about this weekend. We all learned something and had the chance to discuss a lot of things. It was nice to be around people who understand me because they've been there. They know how it feels and so I don't have to feel alone in the world anymore. I have a strong support team now with people who truly do understand what it's like. This experience has made me stronger. I now take my medicine without my applesauce. I refuse to go back to it because if my friends can take theirs without something like that, then I can too.
While at camp, I found myself starting to think 'Wow, your life was so much worse than mine,' but then I realized that we've all had it tough and that includes me too. I can't say that their experience is worse than mine or that they feel more pain than I do. We've all had it rough, but it's made us so much stronger and all the more motivated. We are inspirations to each other, because each one of us has fought their own fight and still continues to move on and push for another day to live. We all have a purpose in life.
Feelings aside, this was an extremely fun filled weekend. There was ziplinig, the swing, rock climbing, indoor bonfires, smores, playing ping pong, table hockey, and pool, and just having fun with each other. The girls and I stayed up the second night to talk. It was a lot of fun.
My thoughts are all over the place. I really miss camp. I miss my friends. I miss being able to take medicine with other people. I miss doing all of those fun activities. I miss having breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. I miss the story telling and the crafts. I miss everything. And I am a little sad, but I know that I'll see everyone again. Even if I don't, they're always with me because of the special bond we've created. No one can break that. Together, we are stronger. I'm not alone.
It was a life changing experience.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Five heart transplant recipients, ten souls" - Derek
"Shit's about to hit the fan" - Bre (She said something like this, haha)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Link to a compilation of pictures and a video from Dragonfly: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ljytvb264JU
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've dubbed Johns Hopkins as JHOP since Children's Hospital of Philadelphia is shortened to CHOP. :)
Saturday, October 20, 2012
A Pure and Honest Reflection of the Past Year
It's finally the day I've been waiting for...my first heartiversary. A year ago from today, I underwent heart transplantation, which resulted in my second chance to live and love the life I lead. It hasn't been an easy year for me. I still haven't gotten closure, but I'm working towards it as the days continue to pass.
Since I've decided to be honest, I'm not going to hide the way I've felt. I'm not about to sugarcoat anything, not today.
I'm in a calm, peaceful mood right now. As I type, I'm thinking about everything that I can possibly remember from the past year. Positive, cheerful me has a lot to say, but so does negative me.
Let me start with what my positive self has to say. Before transplantation, I was still able to smile and laugh despite my situation. It helps to have such a loving family and wonderful people taking care of you. After transplantation, I was in pain, but it's what I guess you could call happy pain, because I made it. I had a whole cocktail of medications to take following transplantation and that was difficult to deal with. I've tried to look at it with optimistic eyes. I'm especially happy now because I don't take as many as I used to and the number of medications still hasn't reached its absolute minimum of three yet; I'm still lingering around at five.
I have a lot to smile about. I have a lot to laugh about. But most importantly, I have a lot to be thankful for. Because of transplantation, because of this second chance, I was able to finish my junior year and continue on into my senior year. Over that time period, I've met some really amazing people and strengthened my relationships with my friends. I've had a good amount of firsts, such as going to Roma's, playing Just Dance, getting my first pair of Levi's, riding the metro, and going to the Cheesecake Factory. Guaranteed that these firsts might not seem that exciting to the average person, but they're special to me.
Sometimes, I can't believe that what I've gone through was real...but then I see the scars and am reminded that it really happened. The scars, the ICD device (which I actually got to keep!), the medications, the pictures, the memories. They remind me. When I was in the hospital, I remember telling one of my nurses something like "you never know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have left." (I, of course, am not that creative. I saw a quote like that a long time ago somewhere on the Interwebs.) In spite of the complaints I've made, at times I feel like I can rightfully say that for all I have been through, I have been strong.
Now for a darker, more depressing take on the past year along with lots of complaining. I'd advise you to skip over this if you don't want to be saddened or annoyed. It sucked. It honestly really sucked. It wasn't fair at all that I had to go through what I went through. Those few months before and after transplantation contained the worst pain I've ever felt in my entire life. I felt dead, like I really was going to die. I'm thankful that I didn't, but I'm still only human. I have days where I feel like the successful attempt to save my life wasn't worth it. I know it might be wrong of me to admit and say that, but I am human. I didn't go through this past year with a smile plastered on my face the entire time. Every once in a long while, I have moments when I think of how ungrateful I am and how my donor should be the one living instead. Those are not good moments for me; this is why I feel weak. I usually just cry and don't talk to anyone about it. That's the other thing.
I don't talk to many people about transplantation, because a lot of the time, I feel like no one cares. Even when I do talk about it to my select few (excluding my family, of course), I feel like they don't even care. I understand that people have their own hardships to face and it's selfish of me to ask them to comfort me when they're struggling too. I wish people had asked about it when I returned to school, but almost no one did. That made me feel like no one cared at all. I've been told that people don't ask because they don't know how to or because they don't want to make me feel uncomfortable. Maybe that's what it is, but I have nothing to hide. I'm willing to share my story, the good and the bad parts of it.
Going back to a more positive view now, I've been called an inspiration. I often feel undeserving of such an honor because I am such a complainer. I guess I can understand why people think of me as such, but I don't feel deserving of it. Still, I do appreciate being called an inspiration. It's nice to know that my experience inspired someone else. I've always wanted to be an inspiration to someone and now I am, even to people I don't know.
One of my friends made me understand that I can't let this experience become me and dictate my life. And for him, but mostly myself, I promise that I won't let it. I promise I'll move on and accept everything that's happened. I'll use this experience to help others and myself.
I'm happy to be alive. Even though I have moments of depression and negativity, I'm happy overall. I'm still here. And because I'm still here, I intend to make a difference. I don't know how long I'm going to live for, but I know that I want to spend the rest of my life working towards being happy and helping others. I think I owe that much to my donor, my donor's family, the medical personnel who took/take care of me, my family, and my friends. It's a work in progress.
And here is where I say thank you. Thank you to my ever-loving family for loving and supporting me through everything. Thank you to my donor family for making the decision that they did. Thank you to my cardiology team (Dr. Scheel, Peggy, Dawn, Dr. Coulson, and everyone else) for working so hard. Thank you to my nurses for making me smile and laugh, instilling hope, and sticking me with needles. Thank you to my DCM family for supporting me and believing in me. Thank you to my lovely Casey Harvey for all of your caring, racism, and overly dramatic lame humor. Thank you to Deepak for being a voice of reason, understanding, and kindness when it was needed. Thank you to all of my friends for making me smile, laugh and cry. I love you all. ♥
~~~~~
Another fall day. An infinite blue sky to look up at, a thousand beautiful trees to enjoy, a hundred blows of the wind to refresh, a second chance and one lovely heart to love it all ♥ Happy Heartiversary ♥ - Shradha
"Happy Hearth Day" - Casey
"It's my heartiversary ♥" - Me
"We know" - Deepak
"A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step."
"It is infinitely better to transplant a heart than to bury it to be devoured by worms." - Christiaan Barnard
Since I've decided to be honest, I'm not going to hide the way I've felt. I'm not about to sugarcoat anything, not today.
I'm in a calm, peaceful mood right now. As I type, I'm thinking about everything that I can possibly remember from the past year. Positive, cheerful me has a lot to say, but so does negative me.
Let me start with what my positive self has to say. Before transplantation, I was still able to smile and laugh despite my situation. It helps to have such a loving family and wonderful people taking care of you. After transplantation, I was in pain, but it's what I guess you could call happy pain, because I made it. I had a whole cocktail of medications to take following transplantation and that was difficult to deal with. I've tried to look at it with optimistic eyes. I'm especially happy now because I don't take as many as I used to and the number of medications still hasn't reached its absolute minimum of three yet; I'm still lingering around at five.
I have a lot to smile about. I have a lot to laugh about. But most importantly, I have a lot to be thankful for. Because of transplantation, because of this second chance, I was able to finish my junior year and continue on into my senior year. Over that time period, I've met some really amazing people and strengthened my relationships with my friends. I've had a good amount of firsts, such as going to Roma's, playing Just Dance, getting my first pair of Levi's, riding the metro, and going to the Cheesecake Factory. Guaranteed that these firsts might not seem that exciting to the average person, but they're special to me.
Sometimes, I can't believe that what I've gone through was real...but then I see the scars and am reminded that it really happened. The scars, the ICD device (which I actually got to keep!), the medications, the pictures, the memories. They remind me. When I was in the hospital, I remember telling one of my nurses something like "you never know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have left." (I, of course, am not that creative. I saw a quote like that a long time ago somewhere on the Interwebs.) In spite of the complaints I've made, at times I feel like I can rightfully say that for all I have been through, I have been strong.
Now for a darker, more depressing take on the past year along with lots of complaining. I'd advise you to skip over this if you don't want to be saddened or annoyed. It sucked. It honestly really sucked. It wasn't fair at all that I had to go through what I went through. Those few months before and after transplantation contained the worst pain I've ever felt in my entire life. I felt dead, like I really was going to die. I'm thankful that I didn't, but I'm still only human. I have days where I feel like the successful attempt to save my life wasn't worth it. I know it might be wrong of me to admit and say that, but I am human. I didn't go through this past year with a smile plastered on my face the entire time. Every once in a long while, I have moments when I think of how ungrateful I am and how my donor should be the one living instead. Those are not good moments for me; this is why I feel weak. I usually just cry and don't talk to anyone about it. That's the other thing.
I don't talk to many people about transplantation, because a lot of the time, I feel like no one cares. Even when I do talk about it to my select few (excluding my family, of course), I feel like they don't even care. I understand that people have their own hardships to face and it's selfish of me to ask them to comfort me when they're struggling too. I wish people had asked about it when I returned to school, but almost no one did. That made me feel like no one cared at all. I've been told that people don't ask because they don't know how to or because they don't want to make me feel uncomfortable. Maybe that's what it is, but I have nothing to hide. I'm willing to share my story, the good and the bad parts of it.
Going back to a more positive view now, I've been called an inspiration. I often feel undeserving of such an honor because I am such a complainer. I guess I can understand why people think of me as such, but I don't feel deserving of it. Still, I do appreciate being called an inspiration. It's nice to know that my experience inspired someone else. I've always wanted to be an inspiration to someone and now I am, even to people I don't know.
One of my friends made me understand that I can't let this experience become me and dictate my life. And for him, but mostly myself, I promise that I won't let it. I promise I'll move on and accept everything that's happened. I'll use this experience to help others and myself.
I'm happy to be alive. Even though I have moments of depression and negativity, I'm happy overall. I'm still here. And because I'm still here, I intend to make a difference. I don't know how long I'm going to live for, but I know that I want to spend the rest of my life working towards being happy and helping others. I think I owe that much to my donor, my donor's family, the medical personnel who took/take care of me, my family, and my friends. It's a work in progress.
And here is where I say thank you. Thank you to my ever-loving family for loving and supporting me through everything. Thank you to my donor family for making the decision that they did. Thank you to my cardiology team (Dr. Scheel, Peggy, Dawn, Dr. Coulson, and everyone else) for working so hard. Thank you to my nurses for making me smile and laugh, instilling hope, and sticking me with needles. Thank you to my DCM family for supporting me and believing in me. Thank you to my lovely Casey Harvey for all of your caring, racism, and overly dramatic lame humor. Thank you to Deepak for being a voice of reason, understanding, and kindness when it was needed. Thank you to all of my friends for making me smile, laugh and cry. I love you all. ♥
~~~~~
Another fall day. An infinite blue sky to look up at, a thousand beautiful trees to enjoy, a hundred blows of the wind to refresh, a second chance and one lovely heart to love it all ♥ Happy Heartiversary ♥ - Shradha
"Happy Hearth Day" - Casey
"It's my heartiversary ♥" - Me
"We know" - Deepak
"A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step."
"It is infinitely better to transplant a heart than to bury it to be devoured by worms." - Christiaan Barnard
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
"Is this the place we used to love?"
I have guidance counselor issues...
I went to Aylor today for the MAT program. Quite honestly, I'm not even sure what MAT is supposed to stand for, probably something easy and simple, but I just don't know. Yeah, so I went back to Aylor, my middle school. My former guidance counselor, Mr. Demorest, is basically in charge of it. It felt strange to be back at Aylor, to see him.
When I attended Aylor as a student, I thought the world of Mr. Demorest. I admired him and respected him. I liked talking to him back in the day. I felt secure and protected because he was (and still is) such a kind, caring person. He was the one at Aylor that I "fell in love" with. But now, I don't know how to feel since it's been so long. Back in middle school he used to tell me that I need to break out of my shell, that I need to put myself out there. I think I've done that, but seeing him again after such a long time made me want to box myself up.
I held Mr. Demorest in such high esteem in middle school. I still respect him, but seeing him today really kind of pulled me out of my dream-like trance of reality that I've been able to recreate at Sherando. In middle school, I had always been under the impression that he would always be someone that I could talk to. I wanted to keep his attention forever. I wanted to know that he cared. And although I know he still does, it's not the same anymore. Time has passed. He has other students to care for now. I understand that. I'm probably going to continue with the MAT program and as a result I'll see Mr. Demorest more often. I don't know how that's going to impact me...
The past... I didn't want to be reminded. Aylor has changed. Mr. Demorest has changed, or so it seems that he has. I've changed. I will not let myself get stuck at Aylor. I moved on. It's not the same place anymore. Once upon a time, it was the place I used to love, but no longer. It's not like Aylor was awful, I just don't want to leave any part of myself there.
...I've made it sound like the MAT program was horrible, but it wasn't and it's not. I got to interact with some really amazing kids. I enjoyed being with them and I'd like to spend more time with them. I just need to take care to not think about the place I used to know.
Side Note: Title of post is from a song called Somewhere Only We Know by Keane.
EDIT: Wow...I'm really angsty. Angst, angst, angst. Eww. I need to not be like this anymore.
EDIT: Wow...I'm really angsty. Angst, angst, angst. Eww. I need to not be like this anymore.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Coloured Years
I was thinking about school today, high school to be exact. I'm a senior now. Oh how the time has passed. I'm wondering how my last year at Sherando will be coloured.
Freshman year was violet. I was just starting out at Sherando. I didn't know everyone. I didn't know how things would turn out. It was all cloaked in mystery. I guess that violet colour became some other colour as the year went by. Maybe it became some shade of blue or orange, or even red. I became used to being at Sherando. I wasn't overflowing with happiness, but I was happy.
Sophomore year. For some reason, I have to think about this year the most. I don't know what colour to give it. There was definitely some orange there. It was slightly black and yellow in the fall. Some blue and bits of red. I don't really know. I was content during sophomore year, mostly during the second half of the year.
Junior year was interesting. There were a lot of colours. There was a lot of black and yellow in the first half of the year. In this year just as during sophomore year, yellow does not represent happiness. Rather, black and yellow paired together represent worry and despair in the least. It was also representative of that overwhelming feeling of death that I had. There was lots of blue, because I felt sad and lonely. That blue became green, and with the green came orange and red, maybe even a slight hint of pink. The few months that made up my junior year were worth it.
Side Notes:
- Yes, I know that black is technically the absence of colour. What of it?
- Also, I like the spelling of colour. It looks prettier with a 'u' instead of without it.
- Each colour mentioned represents how I felt or how I remember feeling. Since freshman and sophomore year aren't as recent as junior year, I don't really remember how to colour them.
- I like colours and their meanings. Everyone sees them in a different way.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Feelings Figured Out
I'm an emotional person. Some say that I think too much and look into things too deeply. Such is the case with my on/off feelings about the person I like. Through the help of a few close friends, I sorted out my feelings. I'm not in love, but there is someone I care about a great deal. There is someone who is very special to me. I'm only seventeen, too young to truly love and understand what love really is. I'll understand someday. And whatever happens, happens.
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