sydsjournal

[sydsjournal]

“It’s always about boys to you”, you said hot faced as I shrunk in my seat. Reminiscing to when you missed my first day of kindergarten to be with him, and Christmas too. I was in elementary school when I called you over fifty times wondering where you were, I needed you to curl my hair, my first communion was in the morning. But you were with him, again. But this time in jail. That was the first time I felt shivering cold in the heat of the fall. You wondered why I had so much anger in such a small body, but how can you wonder that when you moved one-hundred-and-nineteen miles away, and left me at fifteen living with a stranger. But I pushed the pain down every night, with this overwhelming sadness, covered in blankets questioning why I’m still shivering. It’s ironic, Mom. When you locked yourself in the bathroom, saying it was the end, as your six-year-old daughter pounds on the door saying she’s sorry for doing nothing wrong. Yet, somehow I thought you’d understand when that six-year-old grew up to seventeen, the pain she pushed down every night lead her to lock herself in the bathroom, but no one was pounding on the door for her. But you called me dramatic, Mom. You drilled into my head that suicidal thoughts were dramatic. You sent me to the hospital when the only thing that would help would be you, holding me. You’ve been there too.

[sydsjournal]

[sydsjournal]

06/17/17 5:10 PM

You push yourself so much, yet it never seems enough. I thought and truly believed the hardest point of my life was past me, and here I go bringing up the topic of “strength”. I ponder over the thought, “Is weakness considered a weakness?” or is weakness to be considered a negative connotation at all? I’ve found myself considering death to be one of those things i’ll do one day, like it won’t be today or maybe not even two weeks from now, but the thought of taking my own life was a definite thing that I would do, eventually. I thought this was what “getting better” was, that your death day was pushed back a couple months. Trust me- I know it’s not healthy, or sane. Today is just full of questions- what even is “health” or “self-care”? It seems to change every year and get more advanced- thus more difficult. Loving yourself seems to get more intricate and difficult every day. Sometimes, simply just watching the pulse of my heartbeat on my wrist with my two finger-tips is the only assurance that I’m not dead. That i’m not completely rotting away. Believe it or not, it’s hope. It’s hope that there is this body and it’s working. At least there is that, if nothing else. How you care for your body and its “health”, that I can’t help you with. When one of my favorite poets, Rupi Kuar was asked “how is it so easy for you to be so kind to people?” she replied with “cause people have not been kind to me”. Summed up, Be kind, be gentle. With others, and especially yourself.

[sydsjournal]

08.15.17 8:06 PM

I want to say something that means something, something moving, something bold. I want to feel brave. Making choices, and moving into new chapters that are unfolding in life. We watch this happen so suddenly, and so fearfully. We forget to heal ourselves sometimes. We don’t trust even ourselves and our own decisions. I constantly remind myself to remember everything happens for a reason, and every choice you make in life is the right choice. I say that loosely because i fear that people forget to take care of the few things that are truly your own- your body, soul and mind. My senior year government teacher had this tacky sign hung up above his window in the classroom that said “Focus on the process not the product”. As tacky as it was- laminated and all, it spoke to me. Because we live in a culture driven by fear, and that pushes us as a society to focus on the product, and not the process. We fear about this future ahead of us, but don’t embrace the pre-existing life you live. I want to touch on the topic of fear, and why it makes me feel like my body is eating itself away. I talk about how strong people are, and how it’s such an accomplishment to be “stronger than before”. But, that makes me feel closed-minded, and insensitive. Your emotions and experiences are all valid, whether you’ll handle it easier than the next, or shatter to pieces at the stake. Your pain should not be subsided solely for the purpose that you are “so strong” and “so brave”. Your soul is far too untouched by culturally perceived accomplishments, it will hurt but it will hide from you and won’t show it’s true damage in plain sight. Let’s say a tramatic experience is placed in your life, you handle it well, you even handle it to a point you’ve managed to impress yourself. Take a step back, think. Let yourself feel, let yourself heal. If you neglect your soul’s need for healing time, you will find your actions pushing you further back.

[sydsjournal]

08.15.17

Its typical of me to start up things and never finish them. But that’s my ADHD talking like a jack-n-the-box, “Oh another idea! Lets do this full fledged!” and here i go again missing the point. What i’m saying is, I’m starting this journal, and i’m pushing myself not to stop something for once. I think many times in life, you are faced with roadblocks and for me, roadblocks had constantly stopped me from pushing and achieving, but for the most part-completing. Enough of that spiritual shit, trust me i’ll have lots of life talks for you, Journal, you just wait. But, May i introduce myself? I’m Sydney and i’m about as Leo as a Leo can be. I just graduated high school in a little town and I just moved out of my little town in the Big-Ole town of Long Beach. I was 17 when I started living alone, I moved into an AirBNB, i slept in this pretty worn down, but cute and vibey living room. A tapestry that says “Om” in Hindu hangs over the hallway to give me the slightest of privacy. In that town, I met people who had unbelievably beautiful minds & I met people who had this heart-wrenching passion for what they love. It inspired me for one, but secondly it showed me more humbility in the span of the 3 weeks i lived in that living room than 4 years in that little, pretentious town. That town seemed to submerge me into a culture that made me sick. As Pipher would say, “We are educated to be compartmentalized”, we worry at only surface level. Long Beach showed me a diverse and intricate culture, built on love and art. The people worried far deeper than the surface. I took up a job at an ice cream shop to fund my love of thrift shopping and buying expensive water that comes in a box. The job is easy, close to home. Anyways, I’ve been staying up way too late reading up on astrology (another ADHD jack-in-the-box i picked up this week) So i’m gonna head to bed before I start telling you about my weird Boss.