Tinged

I have to admit that lately, I'm really struggling with being happy. I'm not in any sort of deep, depressed state, but it seems as though everything is tinged with sadness. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I do not take failure lightly. I don't like to fail (not that anyone does) and I take it very personally when I do. I will beat myself up for months for a bad grade, or a mistake on a project.

So it doesn't help that this week has been laced with failure and its immanency. I didn't make the deadline for the music school I wanted to apply to, and my heart has now settled into my stomach for the foreseeable future. I tell myself almost daily, 'You should have never joined that show (The Yellow Boat). If you hadn't, you'd have finished on time.'

There are other deadlines I'm struggling to meet, and once again, it feels like everything is falling through the cracks. I'm trying to keep it all together with a smile and hope, but both of those are slowly failing.

I want to be happy. Is that too much to ask?

Motherhood

My sister and I have a mutual friend who is married, 30, and gave birth to gorgeous twin girls about a month ago. Two weeks ago, I had the opportunity to hold one of the girls and my heart broke with happiness.
"This makes me want to have a baby of my own!" I said as I cuddled the absolutely tiny and adorable little being. Because I do. My age and lack of a spouse is the only thing stopping me. I've talked about how much I want kids in the past and I'll talk about it until the cows come home, because that's just me.

On Sunday, my sister saw our friend at church and also held one of the girls. Last night, she and I were talking about it, and she told me that all she could think about was how she just couldn't be a mother.
"It's so much sacrifice," Sarah said. "They're so much responsibility. Especially when they're that young. I mean, Micah (another friend's baby), I'm good with holding him because he's older."
"That just shows how different we are," I said. "Because all I could think was how much I want one."
Honestly, though, that's how it's always been. I've been the one drawn to babies and caring for younger kids. Every other Sunday for the past two-and-a-half years, I've volunteered in the two's classroom at my church. Before I moved to Arizona, I'd volunteered for about a year in the nursery at my old church. Even with my cousins, the difference between Sarah and I showed. Whenever we had a family gathering, I was the one playing with our younger cousins, while she usually spent time with the eldest.
Now, my sister is a self-centered person, and I don't mean that in a cutting or condescending way. She has goals, aspirations, and an idea of how she wants to live her life. A life that just doesn't include children. Because that's not who she is.
I believe women have it in them from the time they are young whether or not they're going to be mothers one day. It isn't like a switch flipped in Sarah on her 15th birthday and she decided she wasn't cut out for motherhood. No, we've always had our respective roles, and we always will.
I'm meant to be a mother, and whether it's to biological, foster, or adopted children, I will be happy. Children are a part of my dreams, my life, my being.

Time

It's been nearly two months since I've posted on here and all I can say is: I've missed it! I have no idea if anyone is actually reading this here blog, but it's a means of expressing myself, so I'm keeping on going.

School started up again: my senior year. I honestly have to say, though, that I don't feel like it's my last year. I feel like I've been going to high school forever, and that I will be going forever. And in a way, I will be, what with becoming a high school teacher. But it won't be my high school.
Even though it feels like I'm never going to leave, in the back of my mind, that fact is always there. I'm leaving. Unlike in the past, where I've hated leaving with every fiber of my being, I now cherish every moment I have. The years past, I've hated waking up on Mondays and having a whole week of school ahead of me, hated waking up at 6:30 in the morning. Now, I'm up at 6 on the dot every day (and believe me when I say that is extraordinary for me) and Mondays are my favorite day, while Fridays are my least.
Ever since I was a child, I've always loved school. But I loved the 'seeing my friends and lunch and recess' parts of it. And as I got older, the 'having choir every single day' part. This year, I love the 'sitting in class and learning and being in this environment'. I've never been so happy to be in school.

Outside of the whole school situation, it's like my life was a puzzle all nice and put together, and then someone took it, threw all the pieces up in the air, and they're all over the place now. Some are still up in the air, some have landed facedown, others are just gone. I moved back with my mom, whom I haven't lived with for two and a half years. It's a tiny, two-bedroom apartment with my 19-year-old sister and I in one room. Sticking two adults (legally speaking, and literally, one and an almost) in one small bedroom? Not a good idea.
My future is up in the air now, too, and I have honestly no idea what's going to happen. I'm trying to put my faith in God, but it's difficult. I don't like not knowing what's going to happen or what I'm going to do - ever. Thus, you can often find me planning in June my birthday party in January.
But whatever happens, I know it's the exact path I'm meant to go down. My number one wish in life is not extravagant. I simply want my children to have a better life than I did. A secure, happy life. As long as I reach that goal, I will be happy for the rest of my life.

When I started this blog, it was a means of documenting the twists and turns of my life, good and bad. Right now, I'm going through the bad. But I know undoubtedly that the good will come again, for it always does.

As I like to say, with love and the everlasting hope of a better tomorrow,
Ellie

Knock and He'll Answer!

Except, I haven't been knocking. I have been pounding, banging, and kicking. Pleading. All for a job. As I said in my last post, I need a job so I can save up money to live on campus.

On Thursday, my sister came over to print off a job application and a few hours later, she called me to let me know that she had an interview the next day. To say I was upset would be an understatement.
Why? Oh, maybe because she already HAS a job. I spoke aloud my displeasement and she replied that she was only working two days this week. That's more than I'm working, I replied.

My mom was hounding me because she said that I have to go out if I want a job. Pretty much all job applications are online nowadays, and I'd already applied to plenty of jobs. No to mention, I was filling out an application for a janitorial position at my church and at a local hardware store with the hours of 4-9am. I was that desperate for a job.
Sufficiently pissed that my mom was giving me such a hard time, I finally agreed to go around town with my sister the next day (Friday) to look for jobs.
To make a long story short....I GOT A JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I really, truly got a JOB!! Thank you, God!
Immediately afterwards, I went out and got work shoes and socks.

But in all reality, I'm so afraid this isn't going to last. That they're going to change their minds and not hire me. I desperately need to keep this job. I don't care how pathetic I sound by saying that. Just please, God. Let this last.

On another note, I went to the orthopedist on Wednesday. He confirmed that my left leg is nearly one inch shorter than the other (just 0.545cm away). I now have a whole process I have to go through to try and alleviate the pain it causes on my knees, hips, and back. This process includes wearing shoe lifts. That makes me kind of sad.
Though, the doctor did mention something about muscle retraining, so hopefully there is some other way to correct it. Having Limb Length Discrepancy can also cause TMJ (which I do have), and I'm hoping that it will get better through the work I'm doing.

Enough prattling on. Again, thank you God!

Love, Ellie

Summer Boredom Blues

I am determined to do something this summer. Unfortunately for me, living in Arizona means whatever something I do, has to be done in an air-conditioned place.
So far, I've been passing the 16 hours I'm awake on the computer. I'm tired of just sitting around all day. I want to start working out, but that has to wait until I can find a nearby (affordable) gym.
I always start counting down the days until summer about 40 days out, always anxiously awaiting the last day. Then, during summer, I ask myself why. Why would I rather be sitting at home, doing nothing, than be at school with classes to fill my day?
My plan during the summer has always been to revamp my look and how I take care of myself, and that goal remains the same this summer. Hopefully I'll be getting a job soon: my number one goal of the summer is to get a whole new wardrobe for under 300 dollars.
That's my biggest concern: getting a job. I need to save up enough money to live on-campus. It would be so much nicer than having to commute every day.

Let's see if I can actually make this summer worth something.

Comfortable

If I ever wasn't anything, comfortable was it.
And I don't mean materialistically, either. Though, that did fit for a time.

What I mean is that from the time I was a child, it was instilled in me that the world is a dangerous place. I have my mother to thank for this, though she did it unintentionally. I know every mother wants to protect their child(ren), but my mother took it to the extreme.
My sister and I began staying at home by ourselves when we were just eight and nine years old. Don't gasp and recoil in horror. We didn't burn the place down or have a seance. We did almost kill each other nearly every day, but that's a different story.
What we didn't do was play with friends. Because my mother forbade us to leave the apartment. My sister and I weren't even allowed to cross the street to get the mail, or open the door to let our friends know why we couldn't come out.

When we were older (11-13 & 12-14), my mom, sister, and I lived in a little house with a huge backyard. There was nothing in this backyard, and the only way to get to it was to go out the front door, around to the side of the house, and through a gate.
Did I ever make that trip? Not hardly. Once again, my sister and I were forbidden to leave the house. Every single day for five summers was spent inside.
Later, when my mom granted my sister and I even more freedom, the fear had been installed in us that someone was going to kidnap us as we walked down the street. If I was walking to my friend's house, I had to text or call my mom as soon as I got there.
I was afraid of any approaching person or car. And when my friend and I would walk around at night, I nearly had a heart attack out of fear.
This also affected me at home. Being alone late at night would equal all lights being on, every door locked, and every door to a dark room tightly closed. And walking around in the dark? Forget about it.
I was terrified of my home, my surroundings. Terrified. Nobody should be that afraid of what's around them.

Then, suddenly, I wasn't anymore. Without even realizing it, I could walk home without being afraid that someone was going to snatch me up, or shoot me. Tonight, I walked through my house in the dark, cleaning up quietly to not disturb those sleeping. I'm still working on the whole 'being alone thing', but it's getting there.
My point is, though, that I am finally comfortable with where I am and being there alone. Because someone may be only a scream away, but until that scream comes, I'm alone. Yes, I may be walking down one of the busiest streets in town, but nobody knows who I am. Walking somewhere, being home, or up late at night, I'm alone.

Something I'm finally comfortable with.

P.S. I decided I won't be posting about my vacation on here. It's just too much to ever condense into words.

Summer

It's officially been summer for three weeks now, which is crazy. Leaving for vacation (posts on that later...maybe) the morning after school ended threw me for a loop. The almost two weeks I was gone didn't really seem like they took place in summer.
Unfortunately, the summer hasn't started (meaning once I got back from vacation) how I was planning. I applied to well over 15 locations for a job and I haven't gotten one single, "Hi, we'd like to interview you on...' email. Not one, which is very frustrating. I need a job so I can afford to live on campus next year.
Not to mention, I'm stressing because my counselor completely screwed up my schedule for next year. I had it all worked out with another counselor, who is incredibly nice and unfortunately not mine. Then, my counselor came in and messed it all up. She absolutely will not put me in a freshman level class because "it'll look funny". I don't care if it looks funny, a senior taking a freshman class. I know several people who have done it, including my friend who will be in there with me next year.
Anyway, I just really took a moment to think about it, and I complain a lot on here. I should try and write more positive entries.

Love, Ellie.