A New Chapter and A Move

In May of 2018 I was accepted into John Carroll University for a Masters of Arts in Biology program. This meant a move to Ohio was in my future.

Two years to live on my own and be further from my family than I’ve ever been. Less than a week ago I made it to Ohio. So far I’ve cried at every movie I’ve watched (none of them have been sad) and I haven’t read a single page (I have read 211 books since April 2017). I’m finding a new normal as I settle in. I’m unpacking currently and trying to figure out how to be a homeowner.

The biggest anchor in my life right now is my dog, Ozzie. Having her to talk to and to cuddle with and to just be another presence in the house has helped me sleep better, cope better, and keep up my mental health. She keeps me grounded and gives me something to take care of instead of wandering around aimlessly.

Before this I was not a huge believer in therapy animals but being on my own with Ozzie is far better than being on my own without Ozzie. She is like therapy in a little (not so little, 70lb) furry body.

I am so grateful to have my rock, my confidant, and my first true love by my side as I navigate a masters degree and the twelve hour drive between me and my family. She will hold me together when I am sad and keep me grounded always. It will be a joy to go through this with her and her unconditional love (still there despite sticking her in a car for two days).

Do what makes you happy. Do what you want to do to make your life the way you want. And if you can/want to, do it with a dog.

Writing

Wow been a while Bloggie, sorry!

Anywho.

I really really want to write. And yea you’re saying, “Hannah, just write then.” The problem is I’m also terrified of writing and of not being good enough. That’s why my real name isn’t attached to this blog, so no one I know can find it unless I choose to show them. So far only my mom has seen it and she can’t remember the username so she only sees what I show her.

I think I’m a good writer (my mom thinks so at least). And I always have so many words floating around in my head like snippets of books or poems that I never even start because I don’t know how to continue it. My cousin wrote poetry and published his own book which was super cool but I’m not nearly organized enough to do that or brave enough for that matter.

I just adore words and their power. I’m a huge reader and I also horde other people’s words on my Pinterest, iFunny, and my notes when I have no other outlets. Another thing I love to do is take other people’s words and illustrate them or turn them into artistic little doodles in notebook I have specifically for that and for my six word stories. Six word stories are some of my favorite ways to write about something. I managed to write a six word story about my day every day while I was in St. Louis this summer. Most I’ve ever consecutively written.

I also love notebooks. The feel, the smell, the promise inherent in blank pages. The only notebook I’ve come close to filling is the book record I started keeping in April of 2017 (125 books recorded since). I review the books I read in a couple of sentences but that isn’t the kind of writing I want to be good at. I want to write so other people see themselves in my writing and so I can express feelings without simply stating this break up broke my heart.

Maybe the first step is getting it out there so here is a poem I managed to finish (mostly to my satisfaction) recently about well about whatever you like. I already know what it means to me.

Untitled

The thunderstorm in my eyes matched the ocean waves of yours.

Lightening struck and I was

Roiling, booming, tumbling, falling.

One feeding off the other,

Waves getting higher,

The storm full of thunder and sparks

Passionately embracing,

Until,

The waves broke anew against dark brown shores

And the storm died still adrift at sea.

What you didn’t tell me was the ocean was too fickle for my little storm

And thunderstorms could not hold sway over water forever

Revenge Dress

Recently I read an article about a concept called a revenge dress. It’s the idea of wearing something that is uniquely you that looks super kickass that either makes your ex want you back or would be something they wouldn’t approve of. It was fascinating to see how people expressed themselves after a relationship.

I have had what I would consider only one significant relationship in my life. It only lasted two months but we were best friends for almost a year before that. When we started dating he was my world, I would have married him if he asked. Looking back my feelings and his actions based on those did not make this relationship healthy. I was over-invested and he was underinvested. He didn’t always listen to the boundaries I set (no hickies, I did not want to watch Marley and Me, etc) and I didn’t voice an opinions when things made me uncomfortable.

I was so invested in keeping him as my significant other that I began to change things about myself. The example that pertains to the idea of the revenge dress is red lipstick. I’ve always loved wearing lipstick and red is always a classic and a favorite. He dismissed me when I wore it and stated it was turn off for him. It reminded him of his high school dance team and he said it made girls look trashy. For a long time when I wore it even after we were dating I felt trashy, which is something no one should ever make you feel.

Red lipstick now is my revenge dress because I look kickass in red lipstick and him and his disapproval can go suck a dick. It has taken a bit of time and some serious self evaluation but the toxic after shocks of that relationship have finally left me. I do not regret this relationship, instead I value the lessons it taught me about how healthy relationships should work and what I can do to make sure I always have a voice in the relationship. I will never lose myself or things that are important to me for a man ever again.

To My Best Friends

We may not be best friends now but we were and you have impacted my life so much.

To my first friend. I knew we would be friends when we argued over who got to play with the plastic animals during play time in kindergarten. That argument led to many play dates all centered around being vets and zoo keepers and wildlife rescuers. Those simple early days of vibrant play have long shaped my view of animals and my love for them. Emily.

To my longest friend. Now we talk occasionally but once we were inseparably. Kindergarten when we met, first grade when you expanded my friend world to two. You were always down to play whatever games we could come up with at recess, you were the peacemaker many a time, you laughed with me, you cried with me. When you moved to Florida in fourth grade if anything our friendship grew. Weekly phone calls on home phones and parents cells to texting and of course your yearly visits to Minnesota that highlighted my summer for 8 years. I watched you graduate, something I never thought I would see and even though we hardly talk you are still so important to me. You, who stood with me through many formative years. Kenzie.

First grade we met. Second grade we fought. We also fought again in sixth and ninth grade but who’s counting. Even though we butted heads you were literally always there for me. I got to see your first slow dance with a boy. We ‘fought’ over the same boy from 3rd grade onward. We shed a lot of tears over each other but even at our most hormotional I didn’t even bat an eye at a sleep over. Thank you for the late nights and the drives home from school. Thank you for always being willing to take silly pictures. Thank you for 11 years of being my best friend. Punch punch kick kick happy Birthday. Kia.

We met in third grade but I don’t think I truly appreciated how much you meant to me until late middle school. You were the friend of ‘we’ll shut the lights of and go to bed’ *talks for three more hours* and the constant last minute sleepovers that my mom hated because normally she would have to bring me a bag, soon I just started bringing a bag just in case. You had the big parties and even though I was the only one dressed up for New Years you always dressed up with me. In eighth grade when we VIDEOTAPED (*facepalms*) mock weddings you were my wife and stayed Facebook official with me until you got yourself an actual boyfriend. Our anniversary is late July right around your birthday. You comforted me when I was sad and swam in your pool with me even though you were so done with it and I was so excited to pretend mermaids. Anna.

I didn’t meet you until freshman move-in day and our email chain made me excited and nervous all at the same time. Little did I know how impactful you would be. From struggles with our chosen major path to a love of reading and a need to find something to do you were there. Roomie love was a real thing and even though living together for three years scarred our friendship a bit it has held up and I always adore your texts and random Timehop finds. I know if I truly ever need anything you will be there. Just a phone call away. Bailey.

I also met you freshman year but our friendship has truly blossomed since graduation. We worked together all four years at Gustavus. First at the hellhole after school program then at campus safety where we became supervisors together and that brief stint where you convinced me to work at ecumen (it was horrible). You were always to so inclusive in college, never hesitating to invite me even if I probably wouldn’t come. After college our shared life misery has brought us together with sleepovers and weekly phone calls, texts, snapchats and a willingness to listen when life isn’t quite what we want it to be. There is no one I would rather call crying at ten at night than you. Thank you for sharing and for listening. Thank you for the give and take. Beth.

The summer before junior year I never thought we would be friends but it turns out dead Derek’s do bring people together. Our morbid sense of humor and mutual hatred for you know who brought us together in a way I could never imagine. The turning moment was when I came home from vacation and my pillow smelled like you since you had been using my bed to avoid yours. Sorority sisters turned lifelong friends because even though life gets rough I’m in it for the long haul and so are you. A daily Snapchat AND text while you spend a semester in Spain and wine nights when we were both in America again. I love how we always hit the real issues of our lives when we are together and help each other through. You are my inspiration, my ‘boo’, my ‘Mu-sa-sa’. Marissa.

You were the one I didn’t expect. You terrified me at first. When you moved in it was so weird I thought I was walking on eggshells. Soon life drama butted in and we spent all night talking on the floor of your room. And later on the floor in one of our doorways or in front of the sink, wherever life through us. We had so many adventures and wine nights and memories and talks about anything and everything from just one year. You made my senior year and hopefully many more. Well I guess you have to because I’m coming for you with those creepy babies! Kate.

You aren’t all still my best friends but you all still mean so much, no matter time or distance you have influenced me and shaped me into who I am. I couldn’t list all the memories here but I’ve got them, don’t worry. Because I knew you, I have been changed for good.

To My Constant Companion

Right now, your warm weight is pressed against my leg. Just about every night you curl into my back or behind my legs. In the mornings when I get to sleep in you come right back to cuddle after you are let outside to go potty and fed. I don’t know what I would do without you. 

When I take two hours baths I periodically hear you crying outside the door. When we eat dinner you are never very far from my chair. When Mom can’t get you to come inside whose call do you respond to, mine. I’m the only person you cling to when I leave for a 10 minute trip to the gas station. No one else bears your claw marks on their shoulders, their arms, or their hearts. 

Ozzie, you are my girl through and through. I don’t know what I did to deserve your love but I am so grateful to have it. When I cry you are there. When my parents fight you are there. After we put jazz down you remained by my side. It is so comforting to sleep with you pressed as close as you can be. It is comforting to sit on the couch with you under my feet. It is comforting to know Mom can’t leave my door open in the morning before you poop because you will try to sneak back in and go back to sleep with me. 

Despite your 8 years, you are my baby. My squeaky toy loving, close as can possibly be, sneaky kisser because your tongue is oddly wet girl. When you leave us (hopefully many years from now) you will be the hole in my heart, the one I look for, the one I wait for, the one I miss beyond measure. You aren’t the first dog in my life but you are MY first dog and I love you beyond measure. 

A Diamond in the Rough

I would like to talk about someone I never expected to become such a big part of my life. I have worked with my friend Beth since we were freshmen in college. We started at the Third Floor, an after school program, discussing her high school boyfriend and by sophomore year we had transferred to campus safety. By junior year we were the two new supervisors at campus safety and especially senior year we began to hang out more outside of work. She let me come to P-ball (college prom) with her group, if one of us had a bad day it wasn’t unheard of to find us getting lunch or hammocking or chilling in one of our rooms together.

Our friendship has taken off more than I could have imagined now that we graduated college. It probably started when she called me at 12:30am when she was worried about someone in her apartment. And then it continued after I had a rough week dealing with my family. When I was having a tough time she was the first person I even thought to call and she was the only person I followed through calling and I’m almost certain it’s a two way street.

It’s a weird comparison but it’s kind of how we function but if I were to get married tomorrow, Beth would 100% be my maid of honor. She’s my confidante, the first person I turn to, someone who I can listen to complain but who also listens when I need to complain. It’s one of the most rewarding friendships I currently have. I am beyond and probably will always be grateful to Beth for being there for the fun visits and phone conversations but also for being there for the rough times and the sad times and for knowing just what I need.

She asked me to help her pick out her new cat when she saves enough money to get one and I couldn’t be more honored. It’s one of the most important things to her and to be included makes me feel so special and if I were to ever need her for something I know she would be there in a heartbeat.

To Beth: If you ever happen to read this, thank you for your unwavering support and love. Thank you for listening when I need you and for trusting me when you are in need. Thank you for four plus years of good conversation and lunch dates and working together. I value your friendship beyond measure, Beth and I value you just the way you are.

Saying Goodbye

First off, saying goodbye fucking sucks. One of the worst things is saying goodbye to someone you love. In my life I’ve lost my father, grandfather, my 22 year-old cousin and today we said goodbye to our oldest dog, Jazz. 

It was probably one of the worst days of my life, choosing for my girl to be put to sleep. She suffered from vestibular disease and had another episode earlier in the week. She bounced back almost right away and then she didn’t. She stopped eating on Wednesday, refusing dog food and only eating bits and pieces of whatever people food we had on hand. She was very unstable whenever she moved anywhere and was running into walls and just collapsing when she didn’t want to move anymore. Needless to say, she was telling us it was time. 

Jazz was our first dog, I have lived more of my life with her than without her. We have had 13 years of memories and snuggles and butt scratches and popcorn parties. And last night we had to call the vet and set up her last appointment. 

The good news is it was quick and seemingly painless. She had a sedative and basically fell asleep then they gave her the final injection and she passed without any fuss. She died laying on her favorite blankets surrounded by her two ‘people’, my mother and me. We sobbed, we kissed her, we pet her, and then we had to leave. Leaving was the hardest part, she just looked like she was sleeping and it felt like we were abandoning her at the vet’s office. It felt like she deserved better than us just leaving her but really it’s not like she knew any better. 

Today has been tough, and tomorrow will still probably be tough as we learn to live with only one dog under our feet. But we will get better and in a few years when we have to do it again it will probably hurt just as much. The comfort is knowing how loved and cared for she was her whole life. If I could, I would make sure she lived forever but since I can’t we made sure she lived a comfortable and happy life. And when she told us it was time we didn’t make her suffer for our own sake, we let her pass peacefully for hers. 

Bleeding Heart

Some day I may wake up to the notification that my best friend is dead. And it wounds me to the very core that despite everything I do, I cannot change that. No matter how often I tell her that she is loved or cared for or important she just doesn’t see it. Phrases like “I don’t deserve to live” or “I would be better off dead” feature prominently in our frequent late night talks as I work to talk her down from whatever precipice life has thrown at her.

She has high functioning depression and anxiety. Her parents divorced when she was young and her mom remarried a few times. She lost her stepbrother to drunk driving and her dad suffered a stroke earlier this year. Her mom’s cancer has come back again and the prognosis isn’t great. She takes on a lot of extra curricular activities on top of the heavy load of school work our college puts on its students. Right now one of her friendships is rocky and her jaw is wired shut. She has not had an easy life is an understatement. I don’t mean to say that people don’t have it worse but this is her story.

She has cut throughout most of her adolescence and since she started the longest she has gone without cutting was 8 months. I was so proud. And when she cut again, I was sad but I was there because obviously she needed me. She needs professional help, my bachelors in psych definitely doesn’t make me the kind of help that she needs.

The difference is I’m the help that she wants. I have tried so hard to get her to go to a counselor or a doctor and once we got so far as she made an appointment and kept it. She unfortunately did not keep her second appointment. Deans at the school have approached her about her mental health but she refuses to go to them for fear of the repercussions from her family who doesn’t believe mental illness is legitimate. So here I stay, up late when she needs me and in bed early when she doesn’t.

If she needs me I’m here. Always. No questions asked. She could murder someone and I would still write to her in prison to make sure she’s okay. Because, you see, my father committed suicide 16 years ago and one of the things I still think about is what I would have liked to have said to him or what I would say to him now. That’s the attitude I take with her. I remind her she’s important to me and that I love her. I know her life is her choice and ultimately I cannot stop her but if she decides to leave us then I want her to know she is loved.

So in the off chance she ever reads this or someone else is going through something and needs to hear it, I’m talking to you too: I love you. I wouldn’t trade you or this friendship of late nights and tears and sadness and happiness and millions of memories for a single second of ignorance of what you are going through. I feel your pain to my very core and I am crying with you. And if our last day together comes I will still love you for all that you are. For your strength and courage for making it as long as you have. For the way you always give yourself to others, the real, unapologetic, totally authentic you. For your endless love and comfort when I also hit my rough patches and when I didn’t know I needed it. For the laughs and the memories and the snapchats and the wine nights. I love you and this friendship and I’m so so grateful life through us together to give me the chance to know you. I love you.

Depression kills, and if you are feeling lost or like it should all end, please, call this number for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, 1-800-273-8255.

Parents Today.

Maybe this some typical millennial shit and maybe it isn’t.

As a child I watched Mufasa’s murder (The Lion King). I watched Rasputin’s rapid decomposition (Anastasia). I watched a little girl get kidnapped and forced down a small hole to look for a diamond (The Rescuers). I watched a mother imprisoned for trying to protect her son (Dumbo). And to top it off I was concerned that they were stepping on the witch after they melted her (The Wizard of Oz). 

I get it, not all kids can handle those images but to deliberately inflict your own views of what kids can handle onto them is atrocious. Don’t shelter them from the world teach them to embrace it. 

I, recently, was extremely upset with my Grandmother after we cruised together and she wanted me to see how ‘terrible’ The Good Dinosaur was, which if you haven’t seen it is a heartwarming tale of human and dinosaur friendship evolving out of mixed beliefs of the evils of the other. Oh, and the Daddy dinosaur gets swept into a river, pterodactyls are the villains, and the good dinosaur falls down a bit. My grandmother believed (after seeing this with my 8 and 4 year old cousins and aunt) that children shouldn’t be exposed to this kind of ‘terror’ mostly via my aunts reaction to the film.

My only issue with that is the fact that some children ARE exposed to that kind of ‘terror’ but in the real world where they can’t turn off the TV. I was one of those kids. My father committed suicide when I was 6 years old. I saw myself in Simba as a kid and The Lion King and The Good Dinosaur, among others, offer such good starting points to educate your kids about real world situations and empathy. Don’t waste these opportunities to help your kids get a better handle on the world and to accept those that come from different life circumstances than your family just because you are worried about their sensibilities. Kids are resilient and the more you teach them the better they can handle situations they may not have experience in like a friend who lost a parent or someone who is abused reaching out to them for help. 

Kids movies are kids movies for a reason and I,for one, think that every Disney and Pixar and several other film companies do a magnificent job putting a kid friendly spin on slightly difficult situations the characters find themselves in. Not only do they give kids dealing with similar issues a person they can identify with but it gives kids who aren’t dealing with these issues knowledge and empathy. In regards to your kids, to paraphrase Marie Antionette, “Let them watch Disney.”

Prairies

There is something so natural about a prairie. (I mean besides it literally being nature) Prairies make me feel like I have come home. There is something about the grass growing up to your waist and watching hawks hunt and seeing for miles that feels peaceful. Watching the grasses ripple in the wind like waves at a beach but all the while you stay dry. The hills that don’t feel like hills until you are at the top and can look further than you thought. The lowlands you don’t expect and suddenly there is a bit of water and more cattails than you thought possible. Prairies make me want to camp out under the stars or sit and stare into the distance on a sunny day or a cloudy one. 

But our prairies are disappearing. They are considered an endangered habitat. Losing prairies would mean losing a bit of our humanity. How do you think early humans survived. Certainly not traipsing through forests where we can’t see predators coming but grasslands where we would hunt, and watch for larger carnivores, and gather and meet one another. It is where we started our first farms.

 It’s just unfortunate that our farms became more important to us than the prairies and have since taken over the beautiful areas. It’s just unfortunate that we moved into a world where you need more than enough. You need excess. Excess food you throw out because you didn’t eat it all. Excess clothes you wear once maybe twice then forget about. Excess industry and cars and pollutants and now trash. But no excess prairies. 

I hope you find a prairie. I hope you sit down and feel while you are there. Then I hope you get up and do something to help save it. And I hope you notice your excesses and maybe make some of them less excessive.