Sloww Recovery

Things are finally starting to look a little bit better. This is the first day I noticed a (albeit, minimal) reduction in the swelling that makes me somewhat resemble Mrs. Piggy...blergh. But it is starting to go down finally, thank goodness! I'm starting to glimpse what the end result will be, and I have no doubt I'll be so, so happy. Already, I actually have a NORMAL bite, which turns out to be extremely cool, although I haven't been able to use it yet. And I'm not gonna have to avoid the right side of my face anymore in pictures, once the swelling goes down of course :) That will be happiness.

The annoyances remain strong, however. It's ironic that I have had a milkshake almost every day for the past 5 days, because that's one of the few things I CAN eat, and I'd quickly trade said luxury for one of the meals my family has had for dinner. I miss pasta and vegetables and just being able to chew things. My mother has whipped up some incredibly yummy soups for me--this morning I had one that tasted JUST like baked potato (including sour cream), followed by clam chowder. But even something that tastes delicious just isn't as great as the real thing, because there's nothing chunky...ya know, I can't chew the potato. Sigh. I'm really, really hoping I'll be able to switch to the "soft" diet after my next appointment (I'd be able to actually eat pasta, oh myyy goodness!), but too much wishful thinking will probably get me into trouble...

Either way, today is the 9th day following my surgery--that means, about 3 weeks until I can definitely start to sort of chew things again! I cannot wait.

A Little Bit Longer

It's been a long time since I've written on here. I took to tumblr more than blogger, which is strange, because there are far fewer people who can read what I write on the other site. Maybe I subconsciously don't like people knowing what's in my head? I know that's at least a little true.

I'm starting to figure out just how much music means to me. Songs are my blogs. My ability to make sense of what I'm thinking and put it out there for people to hear. I plan to work on putting them out a whole lot more, after my surgery.

One more week...I can't begin to explain how much I want next Friday to be here.

You see, I've never said this straight out to anyone, really, but I'm incredibly self-conscious about the way my face looks, as a result of my deformed jaw. I know that nobody else notices it. You could tell me that a million times (some people have), and it wouldn't change how I feel. You see, just because you don't know what something is doesn't mean you don't see it. People see me all the time. They're used to how my face looks. They just don't realize that it's not supposed to look exactly the way it does right now. Somewhere along the way, my jawbone on my right side decided to take a break from growing. And I notice at all. the. time. And they're finally going to fix it. I feel like leaping in a field of flowers, I get so happy when I think about it.

Because, I hate feeling self-conscious about things. Utterly and completely hate it. I like feeling confident, like nothing can touch me unless I let it.

Washed Away

Grief for those we have lost is the hardest thing we face in this life. That attempt to come to terms with life & death, to discover that the grey curtain of this world will roll back. Life is a finite thing. And we think of all the good times, and the bad ones, and maybe just the lack of time. How much you wanted to learn everything there is to know about the person you’ve lost. How much you loved them. Maybe how little you knew them.

There’s a balance that is missing, that first day when you learn you’ve lost a friend, a loved one, a stranger. But it needs to develop. Not just an understanding that death is real, but an attempt to manifest yourself in a new being and strive for a more fulfilling life, in honor of what you’ve lost. A pursuit of happiness.

Because those who do leave us don’t want to see us cry. They are smiling down on us, and pushing us toward the perfection and happiness they had also desired during life. They want us to smile, too.

When you leave this world, your shadow remains, etched in silver and the colors of the rainbow. And that, my friends, is what each of us should desire to leave. We should strive to make our mark on the planet. Leave your name etched in the sand.

When you’re washed away, it will remain.

Ursus

Today was a quiet day. A tired day. Alone, with only myself, it seemed, some of the time. But there was no sadness. Only a wish for sleep.

College, I cannot bear to be without you much longer. UCLA, please accept me. I want you so badly. Bruins are Ursus arctos, after all. I still have a picture from ages ago that I drew of a fantasyland in my head, Ursus. And the blanket on my bed is covered with brown bears.

Coincidental? I think not.

Maybe it's meant-to-be. <3

Boom Box

I want a boombox with batteries instead of a power chord that I can carry around for a day and constantly play music for the world. Happy music. I think that'd be a nice undertone for the day. Actually, I'd blast it.

You should be wilder; you're no fun at all.

Cocoon

It would be easier to do a lot of things. To stay inside staring out at the rain streaming down your window. To wait for dinner. To watch the flowers grow through a screen door. To walk into the screen door when you try to go outside, because it keeps you in. To hide from your enemies. To be safe, and quiet, inside a bubble, wary of the slightest touch.

But the right way is not always the easy one.

Sometimes Bombs Fall Quietly

I think I'm supposed to be righteous and practical, for once.

Still, I don't know what to do.

When did this even happen? Did I really set this in motion?

Maybe being spontaneous did help, for once. And maybe it didn't.

There's too many questions & too many reasons not to try.

Why

The resentment is starting. I’m not sure how to kill it. With water, fire, or something entirely different?

I was so peaceful for a while, by the snow in Julian. Surrounded by beauty. I loved it. No cell phone going off. No one yelling at each other. No one pestering me. Nothing to make me sad or anxious.

But now I’m home again. And this is here, in my mind. I don’t want to be here. At least I can just play music loudly in my ears. Maybe that will make me feel better.

Really…why. Why does it always come down to this? Why?

----

"Slow down you crazy child, take the phone off the hook and disappear for a little while. It’s alright, you can afford to lose a day or two. When will you realize? Vienna waits for you."

new blog

For anyone who's interested, the blog I actually update nowadays can be found at stephanieheart.tumblr.com . Check it out if ya like! :)

1.2.10

SUCCESS: hiking Iron Mountain & having epic awkward conversations with friends. Side-note: I have now realized how incredibly naive I’ve been for such a long time.

UPDATE: My neck still hurts. And I have this weird rash too, that appeared around the same time my neck started hoping…correlation or causation? It’s seriously freaking me out. And it’s so painful. I feel like someone’s zapping my neck every 20 seconds.

UPDATE: New plan. I like this one much better, because it doesn’t involve me sitting around waiting.

Dear Stephanie

It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks of you. Go ahead and have the time of your life. That’s all that really matters, in the end. Living a life that you loved. And loving the One who let you have it, and kept holding your hand through every single moment, happy or sad. Because He’s always there for you, even if you forget it. He’s got your back.

So, don’t you ever—EVER—let anyone or anything bring you down. Just keep smiling. Just keep living, breathing, and moving. Everything will work itself out, if you give it time. Time can mend just about anything. It can break people apart, but it can also bring them closer together.

You have an amazing life before you. But it’s already in your hand. So live it. Forget regret, or life is yours to miss.

Shine, Firefly

This is all making me thinking very hard about my life, and how precious it really is. These days are jewels -- so beautiful. We always forget.

I didn't know Veronica. I've never spoken to her before. But I've seen her around. And this whole experience is making me remember when I lost my grandpa, and all those years ago when I lost my friend. I can't remember things clearly; I was too young. But there was a friend I was very close with, and she had leukemia. And she passed away. What if she hadn't--would I still know her?

What scares me the most is that things like this happen every single day. People have a little too much to drink, maybe, but the majority of the time they're in the other car or on the sidewalk. Just going about their lives. And like a firefly flashing off, they're gone.

God, help me to be ready for that, whenever it's meant to happen. Help me live my life for you, and live it well. Help me to not be afraid of anything, because it's always holding me back.

May you rest in peace, Veronica. Jesus loves you. And so do we. Even those of us who only ever saw you in the hallway.

All Kinds of Time

I think simplicity would be nice. Not worrying about what to say to people or what they think of you. Not caring when you mess up on something you once found very important. Because, really, how can we possibly decipher what is truly important in the world? One day you just wanna pass a test or hear a voice, and the next the past is the past. Not a big deal.

Let's all stop making a big deal of everything. Just be.

For A Heartbeat

I need an escape. I need to get out of this place for a while and stretch my legs. But I'm stuck here. Until then, thank God for writing and reading and all that other artsy stuff I love so much. When I write, I don't feel stuck in this world anymore. I feel free.

------

The door closed softly in Claire’s delicate fingertips. Her heels stepped forward in darkness; head tilted upward, visible only in the shadow of moonlight through her open window. Hand gripped the cord of the ceiling lamp lightly; pulled. Darkness moments before; now vague light.

Her eyes moved to stare at the glass panes before her; they lay one on top of the other, revealing a four inch crack of air from outside. It was a clear night. She watched her reflection in the glass. Her hand slid off the bronze lamp chord as she lowered her gaze. She didn’t like it when people stared.

Sandy had stared. And…well, she didn’t mind him. Her mother would assume him to be a crazy pauper who wanted to take advantage of a rich girl like herself (Claire rolled her eyes). He had listened to her, though. And no one ever listened. Except for Jane. And now she was across the Atlantic.

At least the letter was sent, finally. Claire smiled to herself as she removed her heels and put her bare feet back on the wooden floor — covered with splinters no doubt. The letter was her only form of communication with her dear friend. And it would take…five, six days to arrive in England? She counted them off on her fingers, then shrugged. It would take long enough.

The air felt so cool and refreshing coming in through the open window, it drew her to it. She leaned her head through the opening and set her chin on her elbow, smiling dreamily at the moon above her. It looked like a fingernail. She could barely see the stars, which were supposedly everywhere else. There were too many lights nearby.

She silently vowed to see them properly someday, far away from city lights and her exasperating mother. Then she would be happy.

Close to Midnight

Last night I was lying in bed, trying to sleep. I could hear my parents fighting in the kitchen. And all of a sudden, quite inexplicably, I found myself sobbing. Crying into my pillow, praying to God for them to stop. I wanted to sleep. I was crying out of utter and complete anger against my sister and her stupidity. I'm so sick of all that I have to endure in my household, and how I feel like there's no one who can help me, who will really listen. I don't even know what I'd say if they would.

I was begging for God to help me feel wanted and not alone. I didn't get a solid answer. But after awhile of tears and sorrow, I felt a little peaceful. I smiled. There can be no reward without a struggle, no victory without a fight.

Only, I'm a forgetful person.