purplebuddhaproject:

“You don’t let go of a bad relationship because you stop caring about them. You let go because you start caring about yourself.”

— Charles Orlando
(via purplebuddhaquotes)

ambiguities:

“A friend is someone who knows the song of your heart, and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.”

— unknown (ambiguities)

peachysuggest:

whatever you do, do it with love

Alyssa Ford

Robert Lunday

English 1301

24 July 2018

Heaven

Everything is connected in perfect chaotic balance. The events you experience aren’t coincidental at all. Change is the only constant. This is why I’ve forced myself to be very comfortable with change, one might say too comfortable. Allow me to invite you on a nostalgic journey into the windows of my mind using my own personal experiences. I challenge you to imagine (whatever you consider) happiness as a state of mind and not a destiny. Memories can be heavenly and remembering doesn’t always have to be bad.

It was a delicately warm afternoon in northern Alabama; the sun wrapped a gentle hug around me and the wind periodically swung by to say “hello”. I could feel the excitement bubbling through my six-year-old skin. Mom and Grandma lead me toward a gated area titled “Bird Feeding”. My mom thought the birds would terrify me so she was hesitant at first. The zookeeper instructed me to hold the cup of juice very tightly as the birds were hungry. I stepped inside and two colorful birds immediately hop onto my arm. I giggle uncontrollably which sent off a vibration that invited tons more to fly on over. Within seconds, I was covered with birds all over from head to shoulders. I was bursting with happiness as my mom snapped pictures. The birds loved me and I loved them back. I knew I would never forget that day and sweet chirps that filled my ears with a language only we understood.

It was the coldest winter China had in over ten years. My seventeen-year-old attitude was sure it was going to be a terrible day for sightseeing. The bus dropped my parents and I off and we treaded up miles of stairs crunching through snow until we reached a resting checkpoint. I plopped down onto a wooden bench and crossed my arms. My entire attitude changed when a feral, orange-striped cat welcomed me with a soft “meow”. I got down on my knees and slipped my gloves off to give him a pet. He welcomed it graciously, I then noticed he only had three limbs. One must have frozen off due to the harsh weather conditions. Instead of feeling pity, I was instantly inspired to keep pushing through life’s “weather” no matter how hard it seemed. This brave kitty said everything I needed to hear with just one reassuring “prrr”. His cat friends shortly joined us for scratches and many more inspiring stories. We say our bittersweet goodbyes as I wish them all the goodness in the world. I had all the motivation in the world to climb up The Great Wall and so I did. I could hear Dr. Seuss speaking into my mind, “On and on you will hike. And I know you’ll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are.” Through the gloomy fog mist and the chilly mountain peaks, I reached the top of the long, winding stairs and shed tears of joy. I thanked the world and the world thanked me back. I learned that I can love the highs and lows. I had finally made peace with struggle.

My happiness depended on others for the first eighteen years of my life. I was waiting and waiting for the day I would feel like everything awful that I had gone through was completely worth it, thinking it would never come despite what others had told me. It was, until September 26, 2016 that I would finally experience what everyone else understood. It wasn’t a particularly good day for weather, but my boyfriend and I had decided to go to the beach anyway. Feeling numb the whole ride there, when I stepped out the car I stepped into a new phase of my life as well. I changed clothes quickly and slowly stepped one foot in front of the other towards the open sea. The ocean pulled my toes into the sand and the water warmed my ankles. That warmth traveled all the way into my soul and acknowledged every traumatic event that was stored in my core. I dropped to my knees and surrendered myself for the first time. I felt like the only person on Earth and for once I wasn’t lonely. I stared into the glistening patterns of the sun that bounced off the gentle waves of the sea. This was it, the moment I had suffered for. I finally felt like life was worth it, like I was worth it. I finally wanted to be alive and it wasn’t for the existence of another person. That moment still keeps me going, today.

My life events may seem simple to you and possibly meaningless. It’s not about the fact if they are or not; it’s about the fact I chose to make meaning of it. I could’ve brushed those days off as nothing very easily. Can you remember your first memory? Can you remember your last memory? I believe it’s possible to view them in any light you choose. Freedom is a state of mind. This life you live can be pure bliss or quite the opposite. Whichever one you chose while you’re alive is completely in your control. Heaven is here on Earth and not a destination after death.  

Hell

Nothing happens for a reason. The events you experience are all coincidental because nothing is connected. Life is a chaotic gamble. Life does not care if you have been good or bad. I’ve forced myself to get used to change. This is not what I wanted, it is only a mere survival tactic. Allow me to show you the dark corners of my mind by sharing my traumatic, life-depicting experiences. I ask that you attempt to step in my shoes only for a moment, to see how sadness can take control of your life forever. The natural act of remembering can be haunting and demanding. The events that occur in your life are forever out of your control and can make living seem much like hell.

           I remember being so young that my mom was still dressing me for school. We were in our little, dim-lit laundry room. As she popped open the dryer door, she slipped a piece of clothing on me and all the tiny metal pieces stung my skin like the memory of Dad. I spill this memory to my mother and I notice her face shot blank. I ask, “What’s wrong Mommy?” She questions in disappointment, “How long has this been going on?”  After that question, I realize I’ve told a secret I wasn’t allowed to share. Withdrawn, I quietly whisper “I don’t know…” She knows I’m lying. I will never forget the words she told me next. “Alyssa, that is not love. That is not OK.” Now that I am older, it is clear to me that my father was raping me. I’ll never forget the innocence I lost that day and how I still don’t understand the definition of love fifteen years later. Will I ever? I don’t think love exists in hell, it seems only to be a form of control. I don’t believe anyone loves me since no one is controlling me sexually.  As I type this, my body feels hot. As if I am burning in hell.

           Waking up has always been a challenge ever since depression hit me around age twelve. I remember a specific morning when I was sixteen. I went to sleep alright and woke up numb. This was the day I was sure I had Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I had a dream that was a memory I had buried deep into my conscience. I would describe it as a watching a horror movie that you star in and then the awful twist at the end is the closed caption saying, “Based on a true story.” This scene in my movie was “filmed” in a church I had attended in Alabama. I was maybe five years old and I was antsy sitting in church. I had to use the restroom after the two hours of lecture and I asked permission but was denied access. I could not hold it and was becoming more persistent. After a loud sigh from my father I was granted permission. I went and came back as quickly as possible to lessen my repercussions. After church was over, I was brought into a room I had never seen before, it was small and filled with books. The pastor who I had greatly looked up to was there with my father. He began speaking to my father as if I wasn’t there, which instantly worried me. “You must discipline your children for their actions.” My father passively attempted to argue my side but before he could finish the pastor interrupted, “I will show you how.” He bent me over and flipped my skirt and then took off my underwear. He spanked me roughly and in a way that felt inappropriate. I can only explain it as the feeling of my stomach being pulled down to the ground. I cried, and I cried, but no one saves you in hell. I remember looking at the pastor’s face and he was smiling, and my father was doing something that my memory won’t allow me to reveal yet. I wonder if that was hell for him. Seeing me be someone else’s property, or is that satisfying for him? I woke up and felt as if it happened just the day before. I felt completely alone. I still do. I can hear Dr. Suess in my head preaching, “All Alone! Whether you like it or not, Alone will be something you’ll be quite a lot. And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.”

This hell was difficult to share, not because I am ashamed but because I did not know which story would hit home for my audience the most. I have more experiences like these than I can count; it was hard to choose which one would get my point across most effectively. Even now I am sitting in this coffee shop full of people and their faces light up with laughter and joy. While I am here in hell. I wonder where they live mentally. I wonder if they are in hell yet, or if its given at a random day. Whether you want it or not, hell is inevitable on Earth and not a destination after death.

The Space Between

           One of the most difficult things to process as we grow older, is that we are the only ones in control of our lives. It can be challenging to hold ourselves accountable for every action and every thought. Cause and effect play a major role; some like to pretend the effect is not from their own cause. I know that I am the only one accountable for my reactions. As I say that in my head, it calms me and frightens me at the same time. After constantly comparing the light and the dark in my life, I notice all the other colors. I have learned to become comfortable with being somewhere in between.

           There are many coping skills I teeter-tot between. There are no simple solutions for any problem that I come across in my head. In most cases, I use process of elimination to find what works best. At desperate times, I improvise. One skill that I try to utilize often is Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. The way I see it, CBT is a multi-step psychoanalysis to redirect toxic thoughts. Step one is grasping the thought. We may not realize it at first, but when our vibration is low we typically have a reoccurring statement replaying in our head much like a broken record. Some days that statement for me is, “You are not lovable.” Some days it is, “Love does not exist.” I will use my personal example to show how I dissect my thoughts using CBT. If I am not lovable, I look up the definition of love. Merriam Webster defines love as, “…warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion.” This makes me ask myself, “Who am I attached to, enthusiastic about, and/or devoted to?” The first being that comes to mind is my cat, Precious. Then I wonder if she feels the same towards me. Since pets cannot speak, what context clues can I draw to find out if she loves me? She has warm attachment to me because she purrs anytime she is near me. She is enthusiastic to see me when I come home after a long day of being away from her. She is devoted to me because I nurture and take care of her. Therefore, I am loved. This is how I manage to incorporate CBT into my negative thoughts. CBT is simply turning an emotionally derived thought into a logical statement. Another coping skill I use is asking myself, “Why?” five times in a row until I reach clarity. For example, “Why am I sad?” I answer, “…Because I am lonely.” Then I ask, “Why am I lonely?” I reply, “…Because I have not reached out to anyone.” I ask, “Why have I not reached out?” “…Because I am afraid of rejection.” “Why am I afraid of rejection?” “…Because I choose fear instead of love.” Usually by the fifth, “Why?” there is enough clarity in my mind to bring me back down to Earth. Once I realize that I am choosing to fear over love, I can correct it. Some other solutions to toxic thoughts might be something as simple as taking a bath, going for a walk, listening to music, meditating, working out, reading a book, drinking water, taking deep breaths, or eating a healthy snack. Everyone is completely different, what might work for me may not work for someone else. The key to finding a coping skill that works is trying everything at least once. I might dislike painting when I am bored, but when I am sad I might find relief in it.

           Utilizing these coping skills changes my perspective without even realizing it. Before, my mind was black or white. As Dr. Seuss once wrote,” So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act.” Life is not about light or dark but more so, being able to experience every color. Whether I am living in heaven or hell, the one thing I can be sure of is that I am alive.

Works Cited

Seuss, Dr. Oh, the Places Youll Go! Harpercollins Publishers, 2016.

“Love.” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/love.

Afterword

Before writing this memoir, I was sitting in a restaurant contemplating how much of a tip to leave my waitress. I was weighing my own morals which led to the theme of religion. I questioned what makes an action good or bad, then I questioned what makes heaven or hell. I took my own experiences into accountability. I was extremely depressed, I said to myself that my life already seemed like hell. This made me wonder why we must wait to die. Then, I got the inspiration to write this story about how one could make heaven or hell obtainable while living on Earth.

philosophyquotes:

“Always go too far, because that’s where you’ll find the truth.”

— Albert Camus