A Sad Little Fantasy.

A couple of years ago I saw a picture on Pinterest (are we shocked) that said, “What messes us most up in life is the picture in our head of how we think it is supposed to be.” That quote in itself about summed up about the age of fourteen through twenty for me. Despite the happiness, and hardworking front I can put on, there will always be an impending sadness that I am continuously attempting to work through.

I think a couple of years ago when I realized I could let go of some very damaging things, mentally I was free; for a little while, that is. You see, despite how they act, or what they say I know people think I’m crazy because of how ridiculous I can be. I choose to be the person that laughs the loudest, has the outrageous stories, the most ridiculous twist and turns, and I also choose to be stupidly positive sometimes. For a very long time those “stories” and “twist and turns” were nightmares, and very long nights of convincing myself not to just end things. I choose to laugh because at this point, it’s all I have left, and why not be the butt of everyone’s jokes? Why not just love people instead of yell, or get enraged? I don’t see the point anymore. I chose to toss that expected picture of life out a long time ago, and create my own.

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For time to time I focus on just reality, and it spills out onto my blog in angry protests and I have to pop a Xanax. I can read through your Facebook posts about ISIS, how downhill kids are these days, and all these wonderful people dying of the disease that I just happen to have, and I find myself in a corner of fury. I don’t find that fascinating at all. So I’ve built my own world full of writing, Nat King Cole, That 70s Show, Augustus Waters, I Dream of Jeannie, Rocco Ricardo, wonderful art, and I am happy. I know it’s an illusion. My writing is not famous, Nat King Cole is dead, no one knows what I Dream of Jeannie is anymore, and there is no Augustus Waters, only men who are weak-minded, and cats are better anyways. There will always be an impending sadness that my little haven isn’t reality; but within this fantasy I feel safe. It’s the only way I can achieve happiness these days.

I’m tired of trying to control reality because it’s just not going to happen. Are you doing that? Are you spending more time focusing on what you can’t control versus what you could be doing right? Love other people, that is something that can be done. Being that one light in a person’s life; that can be done. Focusing on what makes you happy rather than posting on what is going wrong; try it.

Life is not supposed to go any particular way, sometimes it ends before you get to finish it. Stop letting the picture mess up your creation.

-haley.

P.S. Song of the Week is still Rain Song by Led Zeppelin. I just cant get over it yet.

Hollywood is Still Hollywood, and I Am Still Sick.

Being a sick young adult in this world is not straightforward path. It’s a winding road full of surgeries, painful treatment, people who might not believe you, and even companies demanding money for saving your life and threatening to not save it anymore. With that being said, anyone who isn’t sick will not understand the sick. How could they?

The first thing I say when someone is experiencing a situation that I have never personally dealt with is, “I really don’t understand what you are going through, but I am here.” Why? Because it’s the truth. I think it’s a high form of ignorance to try to relate understanding when we really do not understand. How can we be understanding when we’ve never stepped into that world, we’ve only had a slight view of it? It’s completely different to see something, then experience it. You can watch someone chug vodka yet remain sober, but its different when you are the one chugging it too.

Lately I’ve spent some time reading very well written articles about how this is the year that social media is portraying “sick kids” and how it’s in style. Often I catch myself thinking, “no this isn’t a movie prop” when I walk around in public with my cannula up my nose. I definitely feel the anger as movies like The Fault in Our Stars rise to fame, and people become obsessed yet fail to realize that these sick kids are real, not just lovely on-screen actors. I’ve felt that ridiculous anger, believe me. These articles go so far as to say, and quote:

“But teenagers with illnesses do exist. I am one of them, and it hurts to see movies and television glamorize our suffering.”  –Lillie Lainoff at Yale University

But amongst this rage, I had a lovely realization that is much easier to deal with than that annoying anger which I have every right to feel.

When I noticed the white and black clouds of a bright blue book at Hastings, it succeeded in triggering me to read the back. I didn’t have seventeen dollars at the time (I know, ridiculous) but I ran back into the store on payday, and immediately made it mine. The minute I read about Hazel’s cannula I laughed and screamed. I was hooked, which is an understatement, just like all of America. I wasn’t enthralled because Augustus is “so cute”, or Amsterdam is romantic, but I was enthralled to read that someone could describe my feelings on paper. It was refreshing to read of an illness which you think I would be sick of; pun intended.

I can’t say for other TV shows, or movies, but I’d like to think that The Fault in Our Stars was anything but glamorous. So many people, including myself, described it as emotional death. Yes, it needed a little glamor because it was in fact a movie, and it was nice to experience butterflies for just a bit before impending death. I think what I love about John Green is not only his intelligence, but how realistic he is. His writing is real, and TFiOS is raw. John Green was a chaplain in a children’s hospital which inspired TFiOS. As John Green has stated a long these lines in an interview, “What struck me about these kids was the fact that they weren’t always smiling, they had no amazing wisdom just because they have cancer like everyone thinks, but they were just kids who happened to be sick.” Exactly. As I saw Augustus’s missing leg, Hazel’s hospital visit, her rapid breathing, a shitty author with a twisted view of sick children, and the raw yet horrifying scene of Augustus throwing up and screaming that he “hates himself” days before his untimely death was not glamorous. A lot of people actually hate TFiOS because it wasn’t perfect. But those scenes, as many tears as they provoked, and as much my heart hurt, I smiled. Those feelings were so real; those scenes were amazing. I hate myself when I have to sit down because my body is failing me, and everyone else gets to do what they want yet I am once again reminded of my own fault.

The fault in people saying “Hollywood has it wrong, and is glamorizing my illness” is that they are looking to people for understanding where understanding is not due. Stop getting mad because you are searching for understanding which is beyond unrealistic, just like this show titled, “Red Band Society.” That show may be unrealistic, which from my research it does in fact sound like a shitty portray of disease, but I think its lovely John Green wrote this real book, inspired by real kids, and it ended very real. Dont attack TFiOS. He wasn’t looking for people to understand, or glamor, he just created a lovely work of art. I personally experienced a version of that story, but I know that a lot of people who saw that did not, and they probably never will. They wanted Augustus to live, and hated Hazel’s walls that she built around herself, but I have a version of those walls, and I accepted Augustus’s death. It still sucked though.

So yes, I am aware of the anger of feeling like my oxygen is a movie prop, and the possessive thoughts of feeling like TFiOS is “all mine” and that these teen girls are clueless. But I catch myself in remembrance that I am expecting understanding where it is not due. Those kids will not understand my story, they weren’t meant to, and they can’t help it. They can only see my story, and respect it. So appreciate this art, The Fault in Our Stars, rather than bashing it. Because when they buried Augustus Waters, and Isaac couldn’t even see that because he just had his one eye he had left removed, I felt anything but glamorous. I smiled though, because I knew that I was a rare person who has cried those tears, and had those exact thoughts. I understood, I felt it was meant for me, and it was beautiful.

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-haley.

Instagram @haleyann92

Happy No Fashion Friday. What?!

I spent most of my day on sixth street, which is Route 66 for all you historians out there. This is not only a source of fantastic shopping (antiques), but inspiration because anyone knows I’m an old soul. Today though amidst my inspiration, I found myself questionable. It really is somewhat depressing to try on all these hats, gloves, and glance at amazing dresses, but to realize that they would sit on a shelf in my home. Why? Because when does this society ever dress up? We wait all year to wear our fancy shoes to the Nutcracker, or some other once in a lifetime event (we don’t even have dance halls anymore; just disgusting “clubs”), so when exactly would I wear these delicate items? What happened to fashion?

This society does not believe in class. Class is something that faded, and took fashion, big band night clubs, talented dancing, and the good times all with it. You see, with class comes respect, and respect for yourself. I can already hear debatable people asking, “How in the hell does looking fancy show respect for myself?” You are a reflection of how you feel. Did you know that everything in this life down to the literal breath you take is art? Really? Yes really. Those lungs were beautifully designed to reciprocate the oxygen your body needs to give you one of the most precious gifts, a breath of life. That is art. That is a masterpiece. Life IS art. Moving on, with this being stated, you are a walking portrait. We can’t help but pin pretty pictures of dresses, and guys cant help but swoon when the “Bond” girl comes on the screen in a ball gown, or when he see’s his prom date for the first time. You see, this is such a rare occurrence these days, seeing people “fancy.” It’s not just women, but men as well. Really guys? You weren’t excluded on this either. Dress up! I don’t know if it’s just the town I live in, but the Sophie shorts, Nike Shorts, pocket tee’s and sandals everywhere? Are you going TO or from a practice? Then I shouldn’t see it. The sweats? Pajama’s? I didn’t know your bed was in this building! No? Then WHY are you dressed for sleep? You see, I am a big believer in if you look good, then you will feel good. Put effort into you, and the effort will show through your actions. Effort doesn’t show with Tinkerbell fuzzy pants in public. I don’t give a shit if it’s at walmart.

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It’s so nice to see these ladies in dresses, these men in suits or button ups. SO NICE. It wasn’t a matter of money, occasion, sexual orientation, or time. It was a matter of respect for others, and themselves. We’ve become a society that loves to feed on comfort. Susie Q throws a fit, we don’t spank, we comfort. Little Bobby screams, so we promise a chocolate bar. We’re tired so we wear pajamas, and we also sit on Facebook. We don’t want to cook, so we take the family through the drive through. See? If its work, we want nothing of it.

Think really hard about your laziness, and to what degree its existing at. In all area’s now, society needs one big cleanup, and this week our clothes really bothered me. Get on Pinterest, and get inspired. Lets start changing little things about this day and age one area at a time! I would love to wear hats again, gloves, dresses on a weekday, and even a fur coat. Get inspired, spoil yourself, and respect yourself! Class is the only way.

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For those of you who are serious about this, Modcloth is a great way to get started or inspired. I have never seen such true vintage yet new pieces, and shopping becomes such fun on their site. No this isn’t sponsored, but a valid personal opinion. Lets go people!

-haley.

Dont Ask.

Naturally, when you reach a certain age you are asked almost every day if you are “dating”, “seeing anyone”, “talking to anyone”, or god forbid “getting married.” No, no, no, and hell no. And guess what? I’m not available either. I’m not against any of this, and if you are then go you. I will be sure to mail your gold star, but stop asking me. I don’t get offended, I just get tired.

You see, at one point in my life that was my life. Utterly focused on the future, all I saw were children, a wedding, and BOOM that was it. That was all I ever thought about, and not an ounce of effort was put forth past it. Yea…things are slightly different. Not to re-hash old shit, but my world fell apart. I picked up the pieces, got over it, and once my world was somewhat put back together it was no longer the same place. For a long time I searched for who I thought could be a new “love” and all my efforts failed. As I sensed their lying, playing, stupidity, it just aggravated the fact that not only did I feel stupid to be looking, but I wasn’t ready. I’m still not, and I don’t care if I ever am.

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All my friends out there who had a kid, got married, getting married, or have serious loves, then go you. You are doing what you want! I can truly honestly say I’m not pulling a “cat-lady” moment saying that I’m happier single, but truthfully, I am. I don’t want to be criticized for it either. Yea, I check the single box on all my tax, and important documents. That box literally looks no different from the marriage one, except the wording beside it. My cat and I are very happy together y’all.

I’m glad that your marriage makes you feel complete, or your children. I really am! I desperately want my children someday, but I want my vodka, and book first. I may want my kids, but I can honestly say that I really don’t ever know if I actually want a marriage. Sorry that’s a jagged pill to swallow, but its the truth. I don’t crave a romance (unless I’m listening to Nat King Cole, or reading John Green) but hey, its fun to pin wedding crap on Pinterest! Maybe one day I’ll date, maybe marry, maybe not. So no, don’t ask me if I’m dating, or talking, or getting married. That was once my world, and what an awful and lonely world that once was.

-haley.