you stay alive.
Remember when I was all, Oh look, guys, I’m so much better. I’m telling jokes! and would you like me to get out my sparkly red tap shoes and do a dance too? Cause I have them!
The sad part is, I really do have them. But I am not a good enough tapper to ever wear them. It’s like that. I can wear loud, attention-drawing things while doing the forms of dance in which I am strong; I’ll wear garb that says, Hey! look at meeeeee! But when it comes to tap, I need to wear things that say, Hey! Look over there! So yeah, the only time I ever wore those red sparkly tap shoes was when I got a nice check for it. And please, if any of you are great tappers and happen to be a size 8 or so, you can have them. Seriously.
But I was asking you: remember when I felt good and almost happy-ish? And then you guys were all like, Whoa! You’re so good at healing! and Wow. Maybe thislifeinwriting.com will be…dare we say it? happier again! And then I was all, Actually, I am healing, but tonight I’m really sad…Or rather, that’s where this post comes in.
Because it’s true: tonight is a sad one for me. Maybe that’s good. Or maybe–like a lot else in my life, lately–it’s just plain weird. And maybe I just need to cry and listen to Comfort by Deb Talon over and over again. And by maybe I mean: that’s what I’m doing.
See, I really don’t know what to say when people tell me I am amazing. Or strong. Or a good person.
Because the truth is that I’m just…still here.
Are the people in Iraq who get bombs dropped on them by American planes amazing just cause they are still alive?
Because that’s what I am: still alive. And that was my one major goal the first month after the bomb was dropped on me. Every day, I just needed to make sure I was still alive.
A little while ago I was hiking in Fair Hill, feeling pretty peaceful about life. Liking the way that the sky hung over me in a shade of blue that was tremendous. Feeling okay with the melting snow, happy for the way that it indicated a new season. And then, unbidden, I suddenly remembered a movie that I saw a very long time ago. And not the whole movie, but one particular scene in the movie.
There’s this scene in The Last of the Mohicans where the two white women get captured by the hostile native Americans. One of the women’s love interest, the Daniel Day Lewis character, is just about to escape, but before he does he grabs the woman he loves. He tells her over and over again, You stay alive! I will be back for you! You stay alive! And makes her promise that she will not die before he can rescue her.
And suddenly she has one job: to survive. Because things will not always be this bleak. Because somebody loves her and will rescue her. Because her life has worth and meaning and she should not throw it away just because it looks like the worst thing has now happened.
And I saw that scene in my mind and started to cry. And it was strange, because I hadn’t been sad until that moment. It was like seeing a patch of snow in the middle of July. The emotion came out of nowhere, and the strength and suddenness of it was shocking.
Because the one person who should have been shaking my shoulders, telling me to stay alive! that day back in November, was gone. Silent. And the contrast from that movie and my life is so ugly. So pitiful. Wordless, almost. Though, God knows I try.
But then I thought about how other people stepped in. And they have been the ones to tell me to stay alive! And in no less moving ways than Daniel Day Lewis did. And that made me cry even more, I guess. Because I am humbled that such amazing people would see worth in me and implore me to stay alive. At all costs. Would remind me, over and over again, that it will not always be this way.
And in a very real way, they’ve rescued me.
But I’m still sad tonight. Because that scene, it’s a lot. And what’s happened, it’s a lot. And the fact that the one who should have yelled at me to stay alive! barely said a word at all, well that does leave some kind of mark, right?
But the fact that there are others–the best people I know–who stepped in. Grabbed my shoulders and yelled at me to stay alive! that leaves a mark, too.
And that’s the mark I’m gonna put my money on. That’s the one that will still be there this time next year. Obvious. Beautiful. Love.
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
as american planes, Daniel Day, Deb Talon, Fair Hill, God, Iraq, Lewis, life, melting snow, movie, sad one, scene, shade of blue, tap shoes, time, way
My name is Jessica and this is a nice, quiet space that I like to cram with words.
I think grief is kind of like driving really fast on a road with lots of blind curves. It kind of takes you places unexpectedly. You’ll feel like you are heading one direction and then WHAM! you’ve turned! And for no apparent reason.
And also, isn’t it the little things? I mean the big things – yeah. But sometimes its just the little comment, or look, or hug, or whatever that can send you either sailing or sinking. It is kind of scary to be so vulnerable to constant change. And I agree that’s why it is so important to anchor yourself to God (who doesn’t shift around) and to stable people whose love for you is not going anywhere anytime soon.
Your anchors are welcome at our house…anytime
yeah, it’s crazy how a little thing can just change the whole temperature of how you feel and then even how you view life. I wish I had more control over all of that, but right now I just don’t.
Thanks for continuing to speak truth to me and tell me “that’s crazy talk!” Though you say it in a kinder way (aka “don’t you remember my teaching??” lol). But seriously, yes. It is comforting to know that there are people whose love for me and friendship are going nowhere.
And I’d love to come to your house soon…though I’m gonna leave my anchors at home, I think!
You know what? That’s not actually weird. You will have a lot of sad days, punctuated by some good days, for an unspecified time that only God knows about. Then, suddenly (and only in the sense that it sneaks up on you unaware), you will find the reverse to be true. And that will be so, for an unspecified time that only God knows about, until all your days are good. Well…that’s what I tell myself…and sometimes I even believe it. And, until then, you stay alive,because sometimes that’s all you can do. And that’s okay. God will do the rest.
“…until all your days are good.”
I like that. And okay, I’ll believe it too. And even feeling sad doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s a “bad” day, right? I mean, it just means it’s part of this process of living. That there are sad times and happy times, rainy days and sunny days–and really, there is beauty and richness in all of it.
Though I’m not about to say that everything that’s happened is “all good.”
True and true.
It’s not weird at all. You’re going to have these aftershocks for quite some time – I think many of us close to the situation have and will.
You gave your love and it was betrayed. That’s never easy to get over. Never. Anyone who expects you to “get over it” does not understand.
You reached out your hand and it was bitten. HARD.
When athletes suffer a really bad injury, the hardest thing about returning to game shape is having the confidence that they won’t get injured again. This is going to take some time.
But at least now you know that on the heels of the sadness will be some joy. And more joy. It will be there, Jessica. And we also know that the poison of lies and falseness have been flushed from your system. Sometimes that will hurt because at times believing lies is much easier than facing the truth. But it’s also much healthier and life-giving.
With your post the other day and this one, I keep thinking of this scene from the Lord of the Rings trilogy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b3w6c7RUbUs
The pain and betrayal will eventually subside since you’ve separated yourself from its source. And since you’re obviously and amazingly lovable, I’m positive you’ll add to the many who love you already.
Heck, if Daniel Day-Lewis knew you, he’d probably recreate that scene for you personally.
By the way, in that clip: you are Gandalf and his posse, kicking the deception and lies out of your life (the king.)
You’re not the king!
haha how weird would it be if Daniel Day-Lewis came over back then and just kept yelling at me to stay alive???
And I love that scene from The Lord of the Rings. It’s really powerful, seeing how the king had been so effected by the lies he had been told. Aaaaaand I didn’t mind seeing Legolas again.
Also, that’s interesting about the athlete’s and how their greatest fear is NOT being injured again once they are strong enough to come back. I think I can relate…
And who needs Daniel Day Lewis when they have someone like you, bringing yellow fluffy slippers and pinkberry?
Oh, and you really aren’t just “still here.” I mean, I know what you’re saying, but people aren’t congratulating you for still existing. There are a ton of admirable, impressive things about the way you’ve navigated these waters. If you need me to, I’ll list them.
And I’m sure many of your other gentle readers would be happy to do the same.
what if I was like: list them!
lol.
No, it’s really okay–you don’t need to. And I know that I’m not just “still here,” but getting complimented on how I am dealing with tragedy is just interesting. Not that it isn’t kind of people to say–it totally is and I appreciate it!–but I think a lot of people would do the same, should they go through something like this. It’s like saying that someone who got lost in the forrest did a really good job eating the nuts and berries and drinking from random streams as they navigated their way out. You would have done the same, cause well, a girl’s gotta eat (haha–I HAD to throw in that phrase, sorry!!!)
Just remember, just because we have said that you are amazing doesn’t mean that you now have to live up to an “amazing standard.” We want you to be who you are.
Here’s the clip from Last of the Mohicans.
http://splicd.com/poxnVl2bBPQ/123/160
yep, that’s the one!
and thanks–I appreciate the grace:)
Oh, Jess. I wish parents had more power than they do. I wish I could be the one to tell you, “Live!”
But I’m grateful for the village–which I know I’m part of–who daily says those words to you (sometimes in prayer)–it takes a village to help you survive.
But you also make a choice to survive. Every day. Step by step. Without you doing that, the village could do nothing.
Thanks for being brave and willing to share.
mom, are you kidding??? you WERE and ARE one of the ones who tell me to stay alive. All the time. Not always in words, of course, but in many many ways. Thanks so much…
Jess..i pray that you would really feel God speaking into your heart ” live”..that you would feel surrounded by God and safe people who love you and who are standing with you..
thank you, sarah…I really appreciate you so, so much…
Jessica – I’m so proud of the “fight” I see in you. You’re certainly alive and kicking.
I could say the same about you!
hey jess,
I’m taking a class called “thinking in the body and brain” and lately we’ve been talking about how the human brain has the ability to change physically just by thinking a thought. you know, if you constantly think that you are stressed, and in difficult situations you automatically say you’re stressed then… you’ll always be stressed! I’ve always known this to be true, but I didnt know that the reason is that by constantly thinking you’re stressed, the part of your brain that responds to stress literally gets bigger.
all this to say, i talked about you in class today because even though what you’re going through is very painful, i’ve only ever read about your desire to move on and your faith in your friends who love you and your faith in God and like you said today, your sense of being rescued already. i’m sure you’ve had your moments, but you dont constantly believe that you’ve been defeated and your pain will never go away. i just bragged to my class that i have a friend who is training her brain to respond to this pain with grace and beauty rather than hate and despair like so many people do.
like jason said, you’re not just still here.
wow, Lara–that’s some very awesome information and some amazing things to say about me. Thank you, so much…I really appreciate it:-)
Lara~ Very interesting info–I’ve known this to be true and scripture supports this too—but you said it really well. This is why meditation is so important. What we think of we do become. i’m glad you brought this up!
And Jess–you could have said so much more about the stress of the taxes this year! I don’t know if people realize that you are very careful what you say and most of the time, they see just a bit of the pain and stress you go through. The fact that you don’t often stay at the point of stress is a real example of how to go through trials and come out on the other side whole.
why bore everyone with the details of my life??