My church has done VBS for as long as I can remember. And each year, it's been pretty darn elaborate. When we started out, Benny Chang's mom was the head, and every year was fantastic. Things aren't as cool now, but Makayla Miller's mom is doing pretty well. We've set up something with this other church (which is freaking huge) so we can borrow all of their sets for our themes. So far, we've done "Avalanche Ranch", "Crocodile Dock", and, now this year, "High Seas Expedition".
This year I'm old enough to be a group leader. No, not a helper - a leader. At first, I thought my group was going to be me and Makayla (who I've also known since I was little and is the peanut butter to my jelly) and then the kids, but it got switched. The girl who I thought was going to be my sister's helper, Ilysa, who I don't really like at all, ended up taking Mak's place due to lack of staff. I was pretty bummed. Then came the kids in my group.
Team "Salty":
There's Mattie (6), who is the youngest of the Johnson family's adopted African kids; Casey (6? 7?) and his friend Kurtis; sisters Hadley (8) and Taylor (7?) who are both adopted from China; Jocelyn (9?), who is Ilysa's little sister; Logan (3), who is allergic to everything; and Matthew Quarter (11). I hate Matthew Quarter.
The first day was kind of crazy. Ilysa was not helping me at all. She, instead, was talking and making fun of everything with Matthew and Jocelyn while I chased small children around from station to station. It's a good thing I had to leave early for an interview for Bird Watched High School* (which I got accepted, by the way!), or I would have lost my mind.
I complained to Dana (head VBS person?), and she was able to get me another helper named Simon Hayden (12) to assist me. Things have been noticeably better since then.
The Schedule? Praise, Crafts/God-Sightings, Games, Story Time, Snack, Praise, End. It takes two and a half hours.
I feel like the lessons have been great. The kids are following Paul and Peter's journeys after Jesus ascended into heaven as they evangelize to the Gentiles. Hence High Seas Expedition. So far we've learned through them that God's Word is True, God's Word is Comforting, God's Word is Surprising, and God's Word is Life-Changing.
Today was the most intense day we've had so far. We played all our activities on how Christ laid is life down for us because we deserved to die and he didn't want us to. I've been realizing exactly the extent of what Jesus did for me on the cross these past two months since Kyle started being our youth pastor. Like, every single one of my sins would take an eternity in hell to pay for just one. Jesus not only took all of my sins, though. He took the entire worlds'! Past, present, and future. Every single person's. And he bore all of that in three hours.
Dude.
That is intense.
Wanna know my God Sighting today? I got into Bird Watched High* a few days ago, and I barely even met the qualifications. It costs three thousand dollars a year, which is more than my family can pay for. My grandparents called this morning and told my mom that they wanted to pay one thousand dollars of my tuition each semester I was in school, and my mom got accepted for a job at the pastry shop. I didn't think I could pass the math placement test to get into Algebra II, and the board decided I didn't have to take it because I had evidence of having a B in Geometry last year.
God is truth! God is comforting! God is surprising! And most of all, God is Life Changing. VBS lessons aren't just for kids, folks, they're for highschoolers, too!
*You are aware I change the names of everything, right?
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Friends and Family
So, Kendra, I totally am stealing your idea of telling everyone who's who in your life in a post so that people don't get confused and I don't have to keep explaining how I know people.
Anyway, here we go.
Family:
Pets:
Friends Close Enough to Be Family:
Bloggers:
That's me and the people in my life. How about yours?
Anyway, here we go.
Family:
- My adoptive dad (also answers to "God") is the creator of the universe. He's adopted many other kids all over the world, and helps every one of them who need it. He also knows every single one of them like they were his only child, which is really cool, because he takes all that time out of his day to talk to a couple billion of them. He resides in a really big house, you know, way up there.
- My earthly Daddy (Lee) is a civil engineer. He's a very calm guy, very strong, very smart. I couldn't think of a better guy to have in my life and raise me the way God would want me to live. Even in the most dire situations, you can always count on my dad to remain calm.
- Mom (Karen) is a freelance artist. She's sparky and silly and one of the strangest people I have ever met. And I wouldn't have her any other way. She and I are very close, and very much alike.
- Kristen (17) is a senior in high school. She's also spunky and silly, but also has a very stern side to her like my dad does. She's also pretty dang strict. But, she and I are like two peas in a pod, giggling and teasing each other to no end.
- Daniel (12) is a seventh grader. He has the most beautiful strawberry-blonde hair. He's beginning to become one of those stupid teenage boys who don't know how to do anything and don't want to do anything other than skate, text, and hang out with his little girlfriends. He also doesn't want to do anything my mom asks him to.
Pets:
- Maggie (9). A black miniature, neurotic, schnauzer-poodle. That stupid dog won't die.
- Sabine (8). Our black miniature daschound with a long, bald scar down her back and a bite out of her ear. We adopted her from a shelter a year ago and have no idea what happened to her. But, she's very sweet.
- Boaz (2). Big, white, fluffy maremma sheepdog. Kind of a dope, really nice, but a great guard-dog.
- Summer (6). My cat. Grey, cute, and mellow. Never comes downstairs.
- Cocoa (6). My difficult buckskin horse.
- Keena and Allie (6 and 7). Identical creamy Indian paint horses. We've had them a year and a half and I still can't tell them apart.
- Bonnie (3). The baby, brown, black, and white paint horse. She's the little sister of Keena and Allie who injured her leg and almost had to be put down. But, now since she's been man-handled so much, she likes human company a lot.
Friends Close Enough to Be Family:
- My godparents (Kent and Sheila) and godsisters (Sydney, 17; and Cecily, 15). My mom and Sheila used to be roommates, and are now best of friends. Strangely enough, she ended up having her two daughters around the time that my mom did, and so now Kristen and I have best friends who live in Washington State that we never, ever see. But, we love them :)
- Chris and Cathy, our youth leaders. Two of the tallest people I know, and both loads of fun. Chris and Kristen are like brother and sister, even though he's almost in his thirties. He makes fun of everything Kristen does because she's so darn tiny and he's so darn giant. Cathy used to be my mentor.
- Rachel (15). One of my two best friends, Rachel and I are so alike that it's scary. She absolutely loves dinosaurs and skinny jeans, also has 4S, and just understands me. I love her to death :)
- Kyle, my youth pastor, and his wife, Mandee. They have a two year old daughter named Karis and a one-month-old son named Owen.
- Ashley "Fang" (15). She's one of my two best friends that I met at youth group. She's Asian and "scene", not emo, she says. She understands me more in personality, which balences Rachel as the one who understands me situationally. I don't know what I'd do without either of them!
- Ruby (15). How cool is it that she has red hair? She and I have been best friends since the fourth grade. I had to leave our old elementary school because it was private and expensive, but we've communicated long-distance ever since.
- Alex (16). He's short. He's awesome. He's Alex. A kid wise beyond his years.
- Rink (20). She's was a senior when I was a seventh grader, but now she's our summer youth intern.
- Hannah (15). From my school. Short, awesome, and loves Skillet almost as much as I do! She also always has awesome shoes :)
- Jake (15). From my school and one of my closer friends there. He's very tall and skinny, but hilarious, quirky, and twitchy. He also has a way of slithering away and just appearing next to you suddenly. Best friends with Rachel.
- Rebekah (15). From school. I don't really know a lot about her except she's funny and tiny and has red hair. She also enjoys hugs, is best friends with Alyssa and Nathan (I think?).
- Alyssa (15). From school. I also don't know a ton about her. But, I love her, she's very nice, laughs a lot, and is best friends with Rebekah.
- Nathan (15). From school, not a lot known about him. He's nice and carried my bin to the car one day, which I appreciated greatly thanks to my bad back :)
- Ben (16?). He talks to me in my first study hall period. He's Jake's older brother by thirteen months.
- Sara Moore (15). She used to be my best friend the first half of freshman year, and then betrayed me to remain friends with Michael Newman.
- Michael Newman (15). Used to be my best friend in eighth grade, but then turned and bullied me all of freshman year.
- Ryan (15). Enthusiastic atheist. Also an enthusiastic persecutor of Christians after he stopped being friends with me at the middle of last year.
- Christina (15). I actually don't know why she hates me. I think it was because she was in love with Michael, and I hated him. I was always ever looking out for her (because she was depressed, suicidal, and cutting herself), and was trying to help. But she just hated me.
Bloggers:
- Kendra Logan! I've actually never met her in person, but Internet-wise, we're pretty good friends. Kendra, I would like to tell you right now that I'm not a creepy, forty-year-old man trying to find out information about you so I can come to kill you with a chain-saw!
That's me and the people in my life. How about yours?
Friday, July 23, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Things I Hate:
- Boys.
- Friends who make my life awkward.
- Having to switch schools. The process is long and complicated.
- When things don't go according to plan. My stupid, thought-out-by-a-fifteen-year-old plans.
- Cats who pee on your new comforter, sheets, and mattress and make your room smell like a nursing home.
- Not being able to drive.
- Hormones.
- Writer's block.
- My fatefully creative brain. How come I can't be good at being book smart? How come I can't remember anything anyone teaches me?
- Being a pessimist.
- Being fifteen.
- Having a catrillion medical problems my family can't afford to fix.
- Not being filthy rich like 90% of my old school.
- Having 4S.
- When my computer freaks out and acts like the world is going to end if I "don't find a power source soon" because I have 7% power left on my laptop.
- Mothers who hate sappy things. I happen to like sappy things; what's wrong with that?
- Having to list these things out on my blog because I have no friends to complain to.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
It's Wednesday, People.
So, Ashley spent the night at my house last night and we talked a while about future careers. I'd like to be an artist. I really would. It's always been my dream to attend Columbus Art Institute just like my mom did and become some sort of famous artist. But, I know that that's not probable, and the only artists who become famous are, like, prodigies. I'll probably be dirt poor and single with only a German shepherd named Forte to keep me company.
On the other hand, I could become a vet, have said dog with a successful husband who loves me and 2.4 children to keep me busy outside of work. Would I be as happy? I'm not sure.
Ashley says her family is urging her to become a musical therapist, pleasing small crowds of six old, dying patients in nursing homes by dinging triangles and shaking tambourines to simple tunes. That's not really what she wants to do, she says. She's always loved performing arts like drama and symphonies, not therapy.
The whole money thing really puts a damper on your dreams. Never tell someone who's good at drawing to say you wish you could draw like them, because let me tell you this: NOBODY NEEDS ARTISTS. Artists make no money! If you're good at math and can't draw, consider yourself lucky. You're good at something useful.
I'm like, "Thanks, God, for gifting me with useless talents."
Writing, drawing, and music.
I understand writing is useful, like James Patterson is a fantastic storyteller. But I'm not fantastic. I'm good.
"Good" doesn't make the cut.
That's all I have to say about that.
Today my brother fell off a horse. Ashley, him, and I were all riding around our property today, and our maremma sheepdog, Bo, decided it would be a good idea to try and play with Allie. The horse Daniel just happened to be riding. Now, let me tell you something: Daniel is not a good rider. On top of all his flaws in this area, he doesn't ever hold his reins tight enough.
If your reigns aren't tight, you can't stop your horse if they suddenly flip out and start booking it in a random direction.
So, Bo freaks Allie out, and Daniel is now being carried at top speed in said direction with no control. He never really screams unless he's really, truly scared for his life (like the time he was hallucinating when he was sick one time and thought a cruise ship was going to fall on his room...), so when I heard him really screaming, I knew something was up.
It was practically in slow motion. One second he's on the horse, and the other, he's being flung into the air onto the hard, Colorado plains' soil rear-first. Thankfully, Mom had talked him into wearing a helmet, so no major damage was done to his head, but he has a nasty bruise now on his upper thigh where he fell. He's also milking his injury to get out of, say, helping me watch a spastic two-year-old or doing the dishes by himself.
Well? Boys will be boys. And those who are prepubescent and lack masculinity...
On the other hand, I could become a vet, have said dog with a successful husband who loves me and 2.4 children to keep me busy outside of work. Would I be as happy? I'm not sure.
Ashley says her family is urging her to become a musical therapist, pleasing small crowds of six old, dying patients in nursing homes by dinging triangles and shaking tambourines to simple tunes. That's not really what she wants to do, she says. She's always loved performing arts like drama and symphonies, not therapy.
The whole money thing really puts a damper on your dreams. Never tell someone who's good at drawing to say you wish you could draw like them, because let me tell you this: NOBODY NEEDS ARTISTS. Artists make no money! If you're good at math and can't draw, consider yourself lucky. You're good at something useful.
I'm like, "Thanks, God, for gifting me with useless talents."
Writing, drawing, and music.
I understand writing is useful, like James Patterson is a fantastic storyteller. But I'm not fantastic. I'm good.
"Good" doesn't make the cut.
That's all I have to say about that.
Today my brother fell off a horse. Ashley, him, and I were all riding around our property today, and our maremma sheepdog, Bo, decided it would be a good idea to try and play with Allie. The horse Daniel just happened to be riding. Now, let me tell you something: Daniel is not a good rider. On top of all his flaws in this area, he doesn't ever hold his reins tight enough.
If your reigns aren't tight, you can't stop your horse if they suddenly flip out and start booking it in a random direction.
So, Bo freaks Allie out, and Daniel is now being carried at top speed in said direction with no control. He never really screams unless he's really, truly scared for his life (like the time he was hallucinating when he was sick one time and thought a cruise ship was going to fall on his room...), so when I heard him really screaming, I knew something was up.
It was practically in slow motion. One second he's on the horse, and the other, he's being flung into the air onto the hard, Colorado plains' soil rear-first. Thankfully, Mom had talked him into wearing a helmet, so no major damage was done to his head, but he has a nasty bruise now on his upper thigh where he fell. He's also milking his injury to get out of, say, helping me watch a spastic two-year-old or doing the dishes by himself.
Well? Boys will be boys. And those who are prepubescent and lack masculinity...
Monday, July 12, 2010
Rafting Trip
Over the weekend, my youth group embarked on a rafting and camping trip. There was three pairs of sisters: Me and Kristen, Sarah and Macy, and Ashley and Becca; and then there was Alex, Michael Anderson, my little brother Daniel, and this awkward kid named Jim (whom I think was thirteen, or something) that Chris brought along that belonged to his boss. Rink, Kyle, Neb, and Tracy (Neb's wife) came along to supervise.
The ride up sucked just a bit. It was like my own personal hell confined into one car. You see, the Smith sisters, Sarah and Macy, love gum. Not only do they love gum, but they also enjoy popping it. So, us three pairs of sisters, Rink (she is a girl, by the way. And in college, but is our summer intern), and Kyle were all crammed into one SUV.
It was all fun until Macy asked everyone if they would like a piece of gum. Everything went downhill from there. Macy has gotten better about not popping her gum since she graduated, but Sarah, who was sitting between me and Kristen, has not. Long story short, I was condemned to listen to my iPod very loud. So, I busied myself with creating a playlist made out of my loudest, screaming music and blocked the sound with that. Then Rink broke the chips out for everyone to eat. I was then forced to turn my iPod up as loud as it went in order to stay sane. See, despite what others think, I actually don't like listening to my music really loud. It hurts my head.
The boys had gone up earlier with Chris (is it funny that every time I type his name, I accidentally type "Christ"?), and so all of the tents were set up and ready to go for us. The girls all shared my dad's eight person tent, while the boys were placed a good ten feet away from us and the fire pit.
Immediately, Kristen and I pulled our cots out and set them out while ignoring the jabs Chris (not Christ) threw about us being "wimpy campers". Usually, our family would be sleeping in a cosy, cooshy, ugly RV at a KOA somewhere. Cots, to Kristen and I, were a step up from that.
Dinner of quarter pound hamburger patties roasted over the camp fire and bags of chips filled our hungry stomachs as we talked about life around as a group. Kristen, despite being 5"3 and barely a hundred pounds somehow managed to consume an entire pound of beef, which we all thought was pretty funny. Then the boys decided to attack Rink's beautiful, curly brown hair with shaving cream, and so in the middle of the night, a few of us girls got up and popped their tent rods out of the ground and made it fall down on top of them.
In the morning, we had to scurry and put on our clothing and pack everything back up and stick it in one of the cars. An hour later, we were all in our swim suits and non-cotton clothing, ready to raft in the rapids. (Did you catch that alliteration there? I'm awesome.) Because the Smiths, shocker, were already munching on gum, I decided to join the special boat with Daniel, Kristen, Ashley, and Kyle's sister-in-law. You had to be sixteen to be in the boats without a guide sitting and doing all the work for you, or at least fourteen if you'd rafted before. Daniel was twelve, and Ashley was fifteen with no rafting experience, so I joined their boat without question; Kristen following right behind me.
So, the day went pretty smoothly without anyone except Jim falling out of the boat. Because Jim would fall out. There was this one place called Twin Falls where all the water collected in a violent bowl/sink hole thing, and the nose of our raft just happened to get wedged under the water pouring in. Our boat began to fill up with water, and I watched, clinging to the steel frame while my little brother barely managed being sucked out into the pool. We finally broke free, thanks to our fantastic guide, and emerged unharmed.
"I'm surprised you all stayed in!" Bella, our guide, exclaimed afterward. "Props to you guys!"
Other than that and getting splashed continuously by Chris, nothing horrible happened.
Right after we'd finished our seventeen mile course, we changed into dry clothing and headed to the cars we'd be driving home in.
"We have some room in our car if anyone's interested," Neb offered our entire group, but nobody took it.
I turned and opened the door of Kyle's car to see Sarah chomping on an apple, then made a snap decision.
"Neb!" I called, and he turned around. "I think I'll take you up on that offer, if that's alright."
So, I moved all of my things into their car. Daniel also decided the come with us, because he is great friends with Neb and Tracy, and so the car ride was vastly more entertaining than it would have been.
Kristen drove Daniel and I home as soon as we got home from the church where we all met to say goodbye. What did I see? A horse trailer full of office furniture. Was I thoroughly confused? Yes.
"Um," I asked my dad, "What's going on here?"
"Remember that our office moved?" he asked me.
I nodded.
"Well, all the furniture from the old place was up for grabs, so I took the opportunity to take as much as I could and bring it home for all of you."
"Oh," I said, frowning. "I see."
So, now I have an awesome spinny-rolly office chair for my desk and a massive CD case holder on top of my headboard/table thing. I wasn't aware I had so much music until I filled it up!
In the basement, we have a full set of leather waiting room chairs with nowhere to go along with six cork boards with no home. It's like Office Max exploded.
The ride up sucked just a bit. It was like my own personal hell confined into one car. You see, the Smith sisters, Sarah and Macy, love gum. Not only do they love gum, but they also enjoy popping it. So, us three pairs of sisters, Rink (she is a girl, by the way. And in college, but is our summer intern), and Kyle were all crammed into one SUV.
It was all fun until Macy asked everyone if they would like a piece of gum. Everything went downhill from there. Macy has gotten better about not popping her gum since she graduated, but Sarah, who was sitting between me and Kristen, has not. Long story short, I was condemned to listen to my iPod very loud. So, I busied myself with creating a playlist made out of my loudest, screaming music and blocked the sound with that. Then Rink broke the chips out for everyone to eat. I was then forced to turn my iPod up as loud as it went in order to stay sane. See, despite what others think, I actually don't like listening to my music really loud. It hurts my head.
The boys had gone up earlier with Chris (is it funny that every time I type his name, I accidentally type "Christ"?), and so all of the tents were set up and ready to go for us. The girls all shared my dad's eight person tent, while the boys were placed a good ten feet away from us and the fire pit.
Immediately, Kristen and I pulled our cots out and set them out while ignoring the jabs Chris (not Christ) threw about us being "wimpy campers". Usually, our family would be sleeping in a cosy, cooshy, ugly RV at a KOA somewhere. Cots, to Kristen and I, were a step up from that.
Dinner of quarter pound hamburger patties roasted over the camp fire and bags of chips filled our hungry stomachs as we talked about life around as a group. Kristen, despite being 5"3 and barely a hundred pounds somehow managed to consume an entire pound of beef, which we all thought was pretty funny. Then the boys decided to attack Rink's beautiful, curly brown hair with shaving cream, and so in the middle of the night, a few of us girls got up and popped their tent rods out of the ground and made it fall down on top of them.
In the morning, we had to scurry and put on our clothing and pack everything back up and stick it in one of the cars. An hour later, we were all in our swim suits and non-cotton clothing, ready to raft in the rapids. (Did you catch that alliteration there? I'm awesome.) Because the Smiths, shocker, were already munching on gum, I decided to join the special boat with Daniel, Kristen, Ashley, and Kyle's sister-in-law. You had to be sixteen to be in the boats without a guide sitting and doing all the work for you, or at least fourteen if you'd rafted before. Daniel was twelve, and Ashley was fifteen with no rafting experience, so I joined their boat without question; Kristen following right behind me.
So, the day went pretty smoothly without anyone except Jim falling out of the boat. Because Jim would fall out. There was this one place called Twin Falls where all the water collected in a violent bowl/sink hole thing, and the nose of our raft just happened to get wedged under the water pouring in. Our boat began to fill up with water, and I watched, clinging to the steel frame while my little brother barely managed being sucked out into the pool. We finally broke free, thanks to our fantastic guide, and emerged unharmed.
"I'm surprised you all stayed in!" Bella, our guide, exclaimed afterward. "Props to you guys!"
Other than that and getting splashed continuously by Chris, nothing horrible happened.
Right after we'd finished our seventeen mile course, we changed into dry clothing and headed to the cars we'd be driving home in.
"We have some room in our car if anyone's interested," Neb offered our entire group, but nobody took it.
I turned and opened the door of Kyle's car to see Sarah chomping on an apple, then made a snap decision.
"Neb!" I called, and he turned around. "I think I'll take you up on that offer, if that's alright."
So, I moved all of my things into their car. Daniel also decided the come with us, because he is great friends with Neb and Tracy, and so the car ride was vastly more entertaining than it would have been.
Kristen drove Daniel and I home as soon as we got home from the church where we all met to say goodbye. What did I see? A horse trailer full of office furniture. Was I thoroughly confused? Yes.
"Um," I asked my dad, "What's going on here?"
"Remember that our office moved?" he asked me.
I nodded.
"Well, all the furniture from the old place was up for grabs, so I took the opportunity to take as much as I could and bring it home for all of you."
"Oh," I said, frowning. "I see."
So, now I have an awesome spinny-rolly office chair for my desk and a massive CD case holder on top of my headboard/table thing. I wasn't aware I had so much music until I filled it up!
In the basement, we have a full set of leather waiting room chairs with nowhere to go along with six cork boards with no home. It's like Office Max exploded.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Me and Music + The Monster Living in Me
It's a funny thing, music. To me, it's something different to what others see it as. Some people think they like music, but they don't know the half of what it means to truely enjoy it. I live and breathe melodies. Lyrics are my oxygen, and blaring guitars fuel my fire.
Go down to the very bottom of my blog where my music box is. Do you see it? Good. Press the "pause" button.
Alright. This is a song by Skillet that didn't have meaning to me until this weekend until I listened to the lyrics and realized it totally discribed me living with 4S and how I try to hide it from every one.
Press play and read along with the lyrics.
The secret side of me
I never let you see
I keep it caged
But I can't control it
So stay away from me
The beast is ugly
I feel the rage
And I just can't hold it
It's scratching on the walls
In the closet, in the halls
It comes awake
And I can't control it
Hiding under the bed
In my body, in my head
Why won't somebody come and save me from this?
Make it end!
I feel it deep within,
It's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I
Feel like a monster
I hate what I've become
The nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I
Feel like a monster
I feel like a monster
My secret side I keep
Hid under lock and key
I keep it caged
But I can't control it
Cause if I let him out
He'll tear me up
And break me down
Why won't somebody come and save me from this?
Make it end!
I feel it deep within,
It's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I
Feel like a monster
I hate what I've become
The nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I
Feel like a monster
I feel like a monster
It's hiding in the dark
It's teeth are razor sharp
There's no escape for me
It wants my soul,
It wants my heart
No one can hear me scream
Maybe it's just a dream
Or maybe it's inside of me
Stop this monster!
I feel it deep within,
It's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I
Feel like a monster
I hate what I've become
The nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I
Feel like a monster
I feel like a monster
I'd thought about how I really feel like I am some sort of monster all of the time. Like, I can't really help anything I do anymore. I keep it caged and hidden from everyone else, but I can't control it. I want everyone to leave me alone because I'm afraid they'll find out about this beast living inside of me and not want to accept it. I want someone to save me from it and make it end, but I know that nothing will make that happen. I'm stuck with this for the rest of my life.
Go down to the very bottom of my blog where my music box is. Do you see it? Good. Press the "pause" button.
Alright. This is a song by Skillet that didn't have meaning to me until this weekend until I listened to the lyrics and realized it totally discribed me living with 4S and how I try to hide it from every one.
Press play and read along with the lyrics.
The secret side of me
I never let you see
I keep it caged
But I can't control it
So stay away from me
The beast is ugly
I feel the rage
And I just can't hold it
It's scratching on the walls
In the closet, in the halls
It comes awake
And I can't control it
Hiding under the bed
In my body, in my head
Why won't somebody come and save me from this?
Make it end!
I feel it deep within,
It's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I
Feel like a monster
I hate what I've become
The nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I
Feel like a monster
I feel like a monster
My secret side I keep
Hid under lock and key
I keep it caged
But I can't control it
Cause if I let him out
He'll tear me up
And break me down
Why won't somebody come and save me from this?
Make it end!
I feel it deep within,
It's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I
Feel like a monster
I hate what I've become
The nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I
Feel like a monster
I feel like a monster
It's hiding in the dark
It's teeth are razor sharp
There's no escape for me
It wants my soul,
It wants my heart
No one can hear me scream
Maybe it's just a dream
Or maybe it's inside of me
Stop this monster!
I feel it deep within,
It's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I
Feel like a monster
I hate what I've become
The nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I
Feel like a monster
I feel like a monster
I'd thought about how I really feel like I am some sort of monster all of the time. Like, I can't really help anything I do anymore. I keep it caged and hidden from everyone else, but I can't control it. I want everyone to leave me alone because I'm afraid they'll find out about this beast living inside of me and not want to accept it. I want someone to save me from it and make it end, but I know that nothing will make that happen. I'm stuck with this for the rest of my life.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
Fourth of July + Life Update
These last couple days have been interesting. Let's see, when did I last post? Wow, last Saturday. It's been a while. Alright, I can work with that.
(This paragraph is a little graphic, so males, if you don't feel comfortable reading this, I suggest you skip to the next one.) Last Monday, I went to an OB-GYN for a pelvic exam (which is EXACLTY what you think it is), and the doctor confirmed I don't have ovarian cysts. It was a little awkward for a while because they all acted like I came in to find out if I was pregnant, but after that question was answered beyond a shadow of a doubt, we were all good. The doctor put me on medroxyprogesterone to trigger a menstrual because I haven't had one since April, and she thinks that perhaps after I've had one, I'll begin to even out. She said that if I don't feel better after I've had one, she'll send me to the back doctor to see if maybe my scoliosis is creating pain in my groin area. And that's the scoop on my medical issues for this week.
On Tuesday, I did nothing until we had TNL (Tuesday Night Live, or youth group) at a friend's house.
For the Fourth, my family and I went up to our condo in Frisco, which is a very small town in the mountains between Breckenridge and Lake Dillon. Mostly, we chillaxed and watched TV, because there's cable up there, and not here at my house. We also rode our bikes around to Abbey's Coffee and got ice cream, watched the parade, and looked at art galleries. The last day, my sister, my mom, and I went shopping in Breckenridge.
A few hours after that when we were all packing to get ready to leave, my dad was attempting to fix the glass shower door which had come off it's track and called me in to help him.
"Just hold that right there, Stephany," he instructed, holding the metal top rod (I really don't know what to call it) carefully until I could take over.
Not a few seconds after that, I managed to let the rod slip and shatter one of the glass doors. There was glass everywhere. Like, little pieces of glass the size of pennies, not shattering into easy-to-pick up sheets.
I did one of those moments where you stand there and don't move because of the shock of what you just did. "Oh..." shit. I began to say the first part, but finished in my head. "Sorry!"
My dad ever so calmly put his head in his hands and sat down on the toilet. He didn't yell at me or say a word.
My mother appeared behind me and was like, "What happened?!"
I then noticed a few cuts dripping blood on each of my father's legs. "I, well, Dad needed someone to help him, and I came in and..."
"It wasn't your fault," my dad said, rubbing his eyes. "It was...the top rod twisted and banged the glass, right?"
"I think so," I said.
He exhaled, obviously pissed at the situation, seeing that we're trying to sell the condo. "Go over to WalMart and buy a shower curtain and a rack."
I accompanied my mom and brother on that shopping escapade, and we were able to fix the situation for the most part. The new curtain actually gave the bathroom a little bit of color, which was kind of an improvement.
I couldn't help but think that it's a good thing my dad's a Christian and a good father, because I could have seen another man in his situation yelling at me or calling me names. My dad's just so...calm. It's nice. He's a great guy.
In other news, I'm heading off to the mountains again this Friday for a camping and rafting trip with a bunch of youth group buddies. Kyle, Chris (red-head Chris), Neb (the other Chris), Me, Kristen, Daniel, Ashley, her sister Becca and maybe their brother Jared, Alex, Caleb, and Michael Anderson are all going. It's going to be really, really fun. Let's just all try and stay in our boats and not die, and it'll all work out for all of us!
I really hope we don't have to hike, because I'm about the most out-of-shape kid on the trip. Not to mention back pains and having a period all at the same time! And we had a finger-blaster war at youth group yesterday and I'm really sore from it. (Finger Blasters being those little foam rockets you can shoot by a rubber loop at the front.)
That's been my week. How was yours?
(This paragraph is a little graphic, so males, if you don't feel comfortable reading this, I suggest you skip to the next one.) Last Monday, I went to an OB-GYN for a pelvic exam (which is EXACLTY what you think it is), and the doctor confirmed I don't have ovarian cysts. It was a little awkward for a while because they all acted like I came in to find out if I was pregnant, but after that question was answered beyond a shadow of a doubt, we were all good. The doctor put me on medroxyprogesterone to trigger a menstrual because I haven't had one since April, and she thinks that perhaps after I've had one, I'll begin to even out. She said that if I don't feel better after I've had one, she'll send me to the back doctor to see if maybe my scoliosis is creating pain in my groin area. And that's the scoop on my medical issues for this week.
On Tuesday, I did nothing until we had TNL (Tuesday Night Live, or youth group) at a friend's house.
For the Fourth, my family and I went up to our condo in Frisco, which is a very small town in the mountains between Breckenridge and Lake Dillon. Mostly, we chillaxed and watched TV, because there's cable up there, and not here at my house. We also rode our bikes around to Abbey's Coffee and got ice cream, watched the parade, and looked at art galleries. The last day, my sister, my mom, and I went shopping in Breckenridge.
A few hours after that when we were all packing to get ready to leave, my dad was attempting to fix the glass shower door which had come off it's track and called me in to help him.
"Just hold that right there, Stephany," he instructed, holding the metal top rod (I really don't know what to call it) carefully until I could take over.
Not a few seconds after that, I managed to let the rod slip and shatter one of the glass doors. There was glass everywhere. Like, little pieces of glass the size of pennies, not shattering into easy-to-pick up sheets.
I did one of those moments where you stand there and don't move because of the shock of what you just did. "Oh..." shit. I began to say the first part, but finished in my head. "Sorry!"
My dad ever so calmly put his head in his hands and sat down on the toilet. He didn't yell at me or say a word.
My mother appeared behind me and was like, "What happened?!"
I then noticed a few cuts dripping blood on each of my father's legs. "I, well, Dad needed someone to help him, and I came in and..."
"It wasn't your fault," my dad said, rubbing his eyes. "It was...the top rod twisted and banged the glass, right?"
"I think so," I said.
He exhaled, obviously pissed at the situation, seeing that we're trying to sell the condo. "Go over to WalMart and buy a shower curtain and a rack."
I accompanied my mom and brother on that shopping escapade, and we were able to fix the situation for the most part. The new curtain actually gave the bathroom a little bit of color, which was kind of an improvement.
I couldn't help but think that it's a good thing my dad's a Christian and a good father, because I could have seen another man in his situation yelling at me or calling me names. My dad's just so...calm. It's nice. He's a great guy.
In other news, I'm heading off to the mountains again this Friday for a camping and rafting trip with a bunch of youth group buddies. Kyle, Chris (red-head Chris), Neb (the other Chris), Me, Kristen, Daniel, Ashley, her sister Becca and maybe their brother Jared, Alex, Caleb, and Michael Anderson are all going. It's going to be really, really fun. Let's just all try and stay in our boats and not die, and it'll all work out for all of us!
I really hope we don't have to hike, because I'm about the most out-of-shape kid on the trip. Not to mention back pains and having a period all at the same time! And we had a finger-blaster war at youth group yesterday and I'm really sore from it. (Finger Blasters being those little foam rockets you can shoot by a rubber loop at the front.)
That's been my week. How was yours?
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