Good Morning, Midnight!

I've never been much of a concert-goer. I went to one concert in 6th grade with my cousin and our parents, and I really went more for the music than for the concert experience. I have been to a Christian youth conference called Acquire The Fire, and that was something of a concert experience.

On Thursday, I had another concert experience. A few people from my youth group went to a Stellar Kart concert not too far from here. Stellar Kart was good, yes, but what I really enjoyed was the more local opening band, Good Morning Midnight. I loved them before I heard them, just because I loved their name. But I also loved their music. It was lovely, as far as rock goes, and so easy to relate to.

But I am getting ahead of myself. There is a girl in our youth group called Kind. She is tall, thin, and blonde. She's quiet and nice. And she is good friends, of late, with Han. This occurred while I was out of attending youth group. When we got there, he started talking to Kind. This wouldn't normally bother me so much, but for two things: The first is that I'm extremely sensitive lately, more so than before, to his interaction with girls. The second is that his back was rather turned to me, and if it wasn't, they are both so tall that they talk to each other right over me. Then when we were on the bus, he wouldn't let me sit by him. He sat in the two seats in the back, and Kind sat in front of his seats. I sat in front of him and to the side, as there were no back row behind me. I was upset that he'd somewhat ignored me, and also that he wouldn't let me sit by him, and that Kind was closer to him than I was. So I wasn't overly responsive to his little attempts to speak to me. In fact, I faced the window and tried to keep from crying.

Let us pause to examine this need to restrain tears. I've seen my psychologist a couple of times now and the 'diagnosis' is Major Depressive Disorder, which I in no way doubt. Depression or not, though, I'm incredibly sensitive and he knows it. I hate to say this, because it sounds so overdramatic, but this is all considerably due to my feeling completely worthless and inept. And part of that feeling came from the entire Cheer situation. Actually, a lot of it did. That, and his associated hate for any sign of upset from myself. Which was something I couldn't help. Believe me, I tried. I don't think I've every tried harder at anything my entire life. I literally could not keep myself cheerful for any significant length of time, and thusly, I could not keep him happy with me for any significant length of time. Which made me feel like crap, let me tell you.

And that feeling of crap comes up at any time when I feel ignored or unimportant. Which Han doesn't seem to understand. So my moodiness only proved to further agitate him. Which only made me feel increasingly worthless. I didn't even hide it after a while. He reminded me that I was making him look bad and ruining the night, which I hadn't done yet. But since he was going to be upset about me doing something, I figured I might as well do it, so I cried and didn't hide it. Eventually, I forced myself to calm down somewhat. But for some reason, half-way through the concert, I couldn't any more, so I left the concert and went to a back hallway and sat in a window to cry. I didn't think anyone would be there while the concert was going on. One man did walk through, though. An adult man wearing a name landyard walked through and asked if I was okay. My answer was of course an affirmative. Even though of course it shouldn't have been. He asked if he could do anything (a negative) and if i was sure (an affirmative). He told me that if I needed to talk, to let him know. I said okay, even though I had no idea where I'd find him.

And that got me to thinking. My parents are always upset at me when I am unhappy about something they want me to do. Han is always upset at me when I cry for any reason, especially related to him. Everyone is upset at me when I am upset. And this one man that I don't even know is the only one so far who has kindly offered to help without any kind of condemnation. I have only two theories for this:

1. Everyone has their pre-determined ideas of what I should be and what I am capable of. They don't seem to comprehend at all the lack of control I have on my emotions, and maybe they should. And the man who offered to help didn't have those standards already set. He didn't have before and after photos to look at. He didn't see a selfish attention-hungry brat, and he didn't see a pitiful oversensitive nuisance. He just saw a scared and hurting little girl sitting in the corner of the window. It is probably the most obvious thing to see, but no one else seems to look at it that way.

2. Everyone who gets upset at me for my feelings knows how ridiculous they are and how wrong I am for having the feelings I get. They know I'm wrong and messed up and oversensitive and the man that offered to help didn't know me well enough to know that the feelings I had were wrong.

The man left me with those thoughts. And I remember also thinking that Han wouldn't look for me, much less find me, and that he might not even notice if I had left. I didn't really want him to find me at this point, because I knew how upset he would be if he found me crying. But I wanted him to at least look for me.

He did find me. He found me and he hugged me and tried to get me to stop crying and told me he wasn't mad and he was sorry for earlier. All I did was cry more and tell him that I was sorry for ruining the night and that he should go and enjoy the rest of the concert. He did go back to the concert, but made me go with him.

The rest of the concert was good, until the ride home. Everyone had said they wanted to go to McDonalds except our youth pastor, who wanted to go to Burger King. Kind was going to McDonalds. I didn't want to be around Kind. Not then. So I said, "Hey, we should go to Burger King to keep our pastor company." So we went into Burger King, and when the youth pastor came in, guess who was with him? Kind. She had talked the whole night about wanting McDonalds, but as soon as Han and I went to Burger King, what did she suddenly want? This did only bad things to my mood.

Han and I sat by each other on the ride home. He talked to me a little, but he talked to the pastor and to Kind more. The radio was on, and I sang a little, but only to myself. I had my head on his shoulder, and I looked at him a lot, hoping he'd feel my eyes and look back and smile. He didn't really. But it's silly to think he'd know to do that.

I cried when I took him home, I think. I can't remember why. All I remember is him going inside and telling me that he couldn't handle much more of me crying, that he just couldn't. That didn't make it any better.

So, along with at Good Morning Midnight shirt and cd, I was left with this:

Would you tell someone with cancer to just get better? Then why would you tell someone with depression to just cheer up? Do you think I enjoy this? I don't. If it were that easy to just 'be happy,' then believe me, I would be. You don't have to tell me.

I love Han to pieces. I do. But I've become more fragile and he's become less gentle. I don't know what to do anymore.

I've always believed that if I had an incurable disease, I would cut off ties with people I knew and cared about. Because I didn't want to upset them when everything fell to pieces. But for some reason, I now have depression, something I can't get rid of, and I can't bring myself to get rid of my friendships. I feel like I have to. I have to stop making everyone miserable with my misery. But I can't. I want to run off without any warning or explanation and leave them alone, because they'd certainly be better off without me. But I can't. I care too much about them, especially about Han, and I also don't have enough money.

I did run away, though. Last night I dropped Han off at his house a little early and went to the park. Where I cried. This was in part because I didn't want to cry around him. But once I got there, it was largely because I wanted someone to come and find me. No, here's what it really was (to me) :

There was a princess suffering a great tribulation. She was all by herself. She had tried many times to end her suffering and her situation, but she couldn't do it by herself. Her only hope anymore was for someone to do it for her. But no one wanted to rescue her. She was the princess who wasn't worth rescuing.

So eventually I got off the swingset and walked back to my car. I started to heat it up and I kept crying. And lo and behold, a car pulled up. Yeah... it was a cop car. Telling me that no one was supposed to be in the park past 11 p.m. The only person willing to get me out of the park was someone who has to because they are paid to.

But, it is late. Good night, everyone. And good morning, midnight.

<3 o.

The True and Outstanding Adventures (Part II)

This is one of my favorite covers for the book, "The True and Outstanding Adventures of the Hunt Sisters." It is very similar to mine, except that the title is placed above the girl on my copy.

Please Note: This entry will make much more sense if you have already read the entry entitled, "The True and Outstanding Adventures." Take notice that this is titled "(Part II)".

One of the things I love about this book so much is the cover. The little girl, in her pink princess dress, with a crown on her head, skipping across a bright blue sky... waving a sword. And happy. As if princesses are supposed to wave swords. As if she is supposed to be waving a sword. It is yet another personification of the fighting spirit. It is ridiculous to fight a losing battle. It is ridiculous for a princess to wave a sword. And yet, some do it anyway, because they believe what they are fighting for.

It reminds me of the games I played when I was young, and the differences between those games and the games Emily played. I don't mean like boardgames, I mean make-believe. I only know what games Emily played because I read a paper she wrote for a class regarding the effects of childhood games and make-believe on the person that played them.

Example: Emily often played the role of "damsel in distress" when she was younger. She was the princess who had been captured or cursed or whatever, and basically waited for the prince to save her. Now, I don't know Emily well enough to figure out what kind of effect this may have had on her, if any, nor how strong the effect is. But according to Emily's paper, she has trouble making decisions and doing things for herself. She doesn't like being her own advocate. She is uncomfortable being "her own hero," so to speak.

I was rarely, if ever, the damsel in distress. I was the hero's sidekick. I was the victim who was making a great escape. I was the princess waving a sword over her head. What can I say? I was kick-butt. And I've developed a fighting spirit, I assume, because of it. So much so that I would say I don't know when to stop fighting. And when it comes to the point that fighting is futile and I think I may need to stop fighting, I don't know how. I really don't. That is when I turn into Emily. If I have to stop fighting, I can't make my own decisions or do things for myself. Because all I know how to do is struggle and fight and push and make an effort. To stop doing that is like to stop being me. But sometimes, fighting just isn't what you are supposed to do.

Like the princess with the sword, I don't always know my place. Don't you know that you, a princess, aren't supposed to hold a sword, much less run about waving it like a magic wand? Don't you realize that as a princess, you shouldn't fight, but sit demurely on the side and let things play out, hoping that they do so to your advantage? Don't I know that fighting a losing battle is going to cause more pain than good?

Maybe I do. But I just don't know how to not fight. I don't know how to not hope. I don't know how to stop futile fighting, and I don't know how to let go of false hope. So convention says I need to do both of those things, but my consciousness says that forcing myself to do so would be a defiance of my nature, painful, and bad. I don't know who is right. I don't know what to do with my fighting nature and my love of hope.

A friend from church, whom I shall call Sound, told me this. It is something that gives the princess the right to wave the sword and gives me a reason to fight and hope. :

He says that if you are naturally something, it is because you are supposed to be that thing. If you are naturally stubborn, then you are supposed to be stubborn. You weren't given your stubbornness so you could fight it down and force yourself into submission. You weren't given your intense need to stand up so that it's hard for you to sit down. You are made something to be something. The key is to know where to use it. Are you going to stubbornly fight to keep him, or are you going to stubbornly fight for the dignity that he is destroying? Are you going to stubbornly fight to get him back, or are you going to stubbornly fight to keep yourself as strong and self-reliant as you were before this happened? As strong and sure of yourself as you naturally are? As you are most likely meant to be?

<3 o.

p.s. : Sound's words were much shorter and to the point. Parts of what I included were the things that went unspoken, but that I felt were very much what he was trying to get me to realize.