Twenty-Five
Every year I write a "birthday blog" recounting the things I learned while I grew another year older. I've found it's a nice way for me to remember the last 12 months and what they gave me. Some of these are a little long, so skim or read every word—either way, thanks for stopping by.
Depression is real. I wrote an entire post about that here.
Taking an antidepressant made me legitimately unable to cry. Which at first was a relief because 1. I cried like, every day for months before I took it which was suuuuper annoying and 2. I'm not much of a crier anyways. BUT there were moments I wish I could have cried. Sometimes tears would have been an appropriate response and connected me to the moment and the people around me. I can only remember two times when I've cried since December. So the lesson learned here: sometimes crying is good. Not being able to cry can be a real bummer. (I never thought I'd say those words).
Everything written in the media isn't always true. People can truly be vicious and mean towards situations they don't even understand. If everyone had something they did published in the newspaper in someone else's words or put on public trial, I'm sure they would be less quick to judge. I understood the saying "the log in your own eye" on a personal level this year. And I had to stop reading people's comments on news articles online BECAUSE I WAS LOSING ALL HOPE IN HUMANITY. Yikes, people.
Talking about going to grad school is way sexier than actually being in grad school.
You can't blame people for the decisions you make, and when you realize this, you won't let people blame you for their decisions either. Both revelations are a little freeing and a little scary.
There were moments when I realized all the things I've ever been handed were exactly what made me able to look grieving friends in the eye and tell their grief and mess to pull up a chair. There is lots of crying and lots of grace here. Welcome to the party, there is plenty of room.
Speaking of judgement; every circumstance I assumed I would be met with judgement I was met with compassion instead. From myself and from friends and family. Compassion seemed like a theme this year, and I'm thankful.
I dated some. At this point in my life, people are super interested about this. So let's talk about it. There were some really good parts that were fun and sweet and felt like a DREAM!! Those things were sweet while they lasted and I was thankful and truly soaked them up!
But for the most part dating is weird and hard. It gives me anxiety attacks. Haha! I'm not kidding, that's the hilarious part. Do you want me to be honest about this? I'm fine being honest about this. The most terrifying part about dating, to me, is that someone can change their mind, and sometimes without warning or reason. And they're allowed to change their mind—it isn't illegal or wrong. Dating is for seeing if you're compatible and if not, you don't continue dating. Sounds easy enough. For some people, this isn't a big deal. I need to learn to be okay with this—that people can change their minds—but for me it's terrifying. It's not that I have commitment issues. I can commit to someone. It's someone committing to me I'm unsure of. What I've learned about myself is that I don't feel like I can open up or settle into something if I'm not sure they're going to stick around. It's a constant underlying anxiety. Are they going to leave? Are they going to change their mind about me? But someone doesn't really want to stick around if they don't feel like they know you or if you're constantly questioning the relationship. I can't say I blame them. So you're both at a standstill, an impasse, and they start acting weird and you have to bring it up and then you have the awkward conversation that always ends the same exact way with them saying some version of I don't know, you're everything I'm looking for. You're perfect. You're a catch. There's nothing really wrong, it just feels like something is off, and then you just stop texting and it fizzles out, or it awkwardly keeps up in limbo for a few weeks until you shut it down because you'd rather be alone than be wanted half way.
This is funny to me because I'm so vulnerable with my friends and I can tell them anything. But a relationship is the total opposite for me. I feel like I'm the most confident, strong, sure woman in every other context of my life except a relationship. I know I'm a fierce and loyal friend, a kickass nurse, a fun and committed aunt. But it's like I lose all sense of self when I try to be in a relationship. It's not that I don't know how to love someone…I think I have a lot of love to give. I just become insecure and anxious and I hardly recognize myself. I hate that I do that, and I wish stopping it would be as easy as flipping a switch. I'm not sure if the pattern I repeat with dating is a self-fulfilling prophecy or just truth. I felt more often than not that I'll never get it right. But I somehow muster up that stubborn hope believing that someone will stay through the awkwardness and be patient with my hesitation and fear and doubt. Someone will not make me feel like too much or not enough, and they'll tell me I'm just right. Some days I'm hopeful I'll get it right, and other days I have to beg that belief out of me. And now when people say, Why are you single?! I don't get it! I'll just refer them to this paragraph/mini novel.
I never got to go to the ocean or lake (so far). I forget how much I need to be by water or sand every now and then.
The sweetest sound in the WORLD is still my nieces or nephews saying "Aunt Z!!" Hands down. Best thing ever.
I tried to take time at work and slow down for moments I wanted to be able to hold closely. I think the first year or two of being a nurse you're just trying to survive and not kill anyone, but I felt past that point of my career to where I could truly enjoy moments that seemed precious. One time in particular was when I had a very elderly, demented patient who would get agitated if you went anywhere near her. If you think she sounds harmless, little old demented ladies can throw a punch sometimes more efficiently than young men on drugs, believe me. She had a bloodied face from a fall, but she'd turn into the Hulk if you tried to clean her up. It was left bloodied for a long time because of this. I was particularly busy on that day, but I wanted so badly to clean the blood from her face because it was dripping into her eyes. I knew the nurse taking care of her before me had tried, but the patient wouldn't allow it and became combative. She was truly only calm if you just left her alone. I knew it seemed like a small thing to fret over when I had other patients who were sicker and I had 1,000 other things to do, but no one was actively dying and it seemed like one of those moments I would regret if I didn't do what was burning in my heart to do. I closed the door and pulled a chair up to her bed. I took a warm wet washcloth, and with one hand I stroked her soft, white hair, and with the other I gently wiped as much blood from her face as I could. She stared at me and I just kept talking softly and smiling, telling her I wanted to clean her face a little and poised to dodge a punch if she swung. She let me clean her face for a while and it was the calmest she'd been when I was near her. Any time she wouldn't let me near one spot I agreed and moved on to another. It only took about 5 minutes and it seemed so small and I didn't get her completely clean, but it was one of the best parts of my day. She didn't have anyone with her, and I don't get a ton of opportunities to slow down like that. I think it was a gift to us both. I wanted more moments like that, so I made time for them.
There was another day at work that I will hold closely forever, the rest of my life. I spent 5 hours with a tiny patient that I believe was meant just for me. He needed a foster home, and I was 20 minutes away from taking him home as his temporary foster parent when they found a distant relative to take him. I loved that little boy with every part of my heart and I got attached just like they tell you not to. And I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I wouldn't trade those 5 hours for the world. Even the part where he jumped off the bed and wrapped me up in a hug and said goodbye. It solidified the desire I have to become a foster parent some day. I wrote a letter to him here.
There were more hard conversations. But I remember walking away from one in particular thinking, The Mackenzie I was 2 years ago would have never had the balls to say those things. Driving home that night, I remembered back to when I was heartbroken a couple years prior. I had felt like 23 year old me was in a million little pieces, wondering how I'd ever put them all back together. And 25 year old me realized that I had put them all back together over the last 2 years in all the right places. Heartbreak will shake you—but when things are in little pieces, the ones you don't need seem to shake out a little easier along the way. I was thankful and proud in that moment, that even though I was shaking inside I stood up for myself and protected my worth that I had fought so hard to find.
The group of friends I found myself around the most made life so fun. I felt lighter and more carefree, laughed deeper and longer. I danced in movie theaters with strangers and laughed at myself more. I have felt more myself at 25 than I ever have before.
My circle of friends seemed to grow smaller this year, which is something I both grieved and appreciated at the same time. Friendships change, people come and go, and that used to be harder for me to stomach than it is these days. Instead of harboring sadness or bitterness towards the friendships that dissipated, I chose (it took/takes an act of choosing) to be thankful for them even if they look different now. And I made new, good, genuine friends. I'm thankful for them, too.
I saw a homeless friend become housed, and it was a moment of deep joy. We ate pizza and cookie cake in his new place to celebrate. We admired the bathroom, the king sized bed, the view from the large window. He let us all sit in his big recliner to see how comfortable it was. I looked out his window over downtown OKC and tears were impossible to avoid when I thought about every situation that had led me to that moment with that friend and the other friends in that room.
There seemed to be more and more days that I wanted to freeze-frame and keep forever, pull them back out when I needed them and relive them over and over again. There were several days where it felt like everything that had ever shifted in my life had settled in all the right places. I wanted to press that feeling into my heart the way people press flowers in between the pages of a book.
I held lots of babies and I loved every second of it. Watching my friends step into parenthood is one of the greatest joys. And I'm a firm believer the world feels right when you're holding a sleeping baby.
I blocked some numbers and then unblocked them and blocked them again. Seriously. But you know what? Block the number. Then unblock it. Get mad and block it again. Cry (sob). Whatever. Message on Instagram because technology gives you 1,000 ways to still be available. Then block them on Instagram. Delete the text messages because you don't need proof anymore. Even if it takes 1,000 times, you'll get there. The 1,000th time you won't look back.
I said yes to spontaneity more than ever and they were some of the best decisions I've ever made.
I made some decisions I wasn't proud of that took me awhile to forgive myself for. I'm human...I learned that lesson, too.
This is that age where you date someone and then you stop dating and the next thing you know they're engaged and it's weird. It's not like someone you dated from Jr. High or High School and you see them get engaged on Facebook. Someone who broke a little piece of my heart got married and I decided to be happy for them. It's less exhausting and less pathetic than reliving what they did wrong. Cheers.
Car trouble has a way of humbling you more than other things, I think. The first time my car broke down in September, I was driving on the highway when the engine stopped and there was smoke. It was slightly terrifying. I pulled over and stared at the dash in a panic trying to figure out what all the little lights meant. I didn't want to call and bother anyone. And to be honest, I was angry. My first, knee-jerk thought was: call Dad. And 0.2 seconds after that thought I rolled my eyes and chose to sit for a little longer because calling my dad wasn't an option and I was a little frazzled that had been my first response. That one thought made me flustered all day. And then I was angry that I knew nothing about cars. I hate feeling rescued. I hate not knowing things. I hate not being good at something. But the next few months of car trouble made me get over the fact I can't call my dad about car trouble and also get over the fact I don't know everything. I became thankful for the people who did have that knowledge and for everyone who helped and offered to help. It takes a village to live, and I have quite the people. I had to become dependent on others and ask for a lot of help. And I hated it, but those days of asking for help turned into legitimate quality time with the people who helped me. I'm thankful. And it also kind of becomes an adventure!! Like, what's going to fall off of my car today? Will it start today? Will I meet a nice stranger who will help me? Who will I have to call to come help? So thank you to Matt M., uncle Darren, Cody, Mom, my brother, Scott, the lady at the auto shop in a small Oklahoma town, the nice man named Ethan who helped me open the coolant cap (is that what it's called?) on the side of the turnpike in the rain, and the other nice man whose name I don't know who also helped me at the gas station with that same damn cap.
People will think what they want to think about you. I truly believe everyone's realities are a little different. People see situations with different perspectives. Sometimes a hard thing to do is stop trying to convince people and just live with your convictions and move on if they don't see you the way you want them to. And if you reach out to try and have a conversation or reconcile and they don't respond, that isn't on you. They're doing the best they can and it isn't up to you.
I am deeply loved and well cared for. Life is precious and I'm so thankful I was given another year to learn. It was a gift. I have everything I need and more. I'm truly a rich woman.
Goals for 26:
-find a beach and go there.
-take a small in-state vaca by myself. (Yes, mom, really.)
-go for more walks. like, leisurely walks. those are so nice.
-get up earlier. (this officially makes me feel old)
-give more money to causes I care about/spend less money on myself
-dance more. I don't even care about the context.
-invite more people to my apartment/cook for them.
Twenty-Five
Depression is real. I wrote an entire post about that here.
Taking an antidepressant made me legitimately unable to cry. Which at first was a relief because 1. I cried like, every day for months before I took it which was suuuuper annoying and 2. I'm not much of a crier anyways. BUT there were moments I wish I could have cried. Sometimes tears would have been an appropriate response and connected me to the moment and the people around me. I can only remember two times when I've cried since December. So the lesson learned here: sometimes crying is good. Not being able to cry can be a real bummer. (I never thought I'd say those words).
Everything written in the media isn't always true. People can truly be vicious and mean towards situations they don't even understand. If everyone had something they did published in the newspaper in someone else's words or put on public trial, I'm sure they would be less quick to judge. I understood the saying "the log in your own eye" on a personal level this year. And I had to stop reading people's comments on news articles online BECAUSE I WAS LOSING ALL HOPE IN HUMANITY. Yikes, people.
Talking about going to grad school is way sexier than actually being in grad school.
You can't blame people for the decisions you make, and when you realize this, you won't let people blame you for their decisions either. Both revelations are a little freeing and a little scary.
There were moments when I realized all the things I've ever been handed were exactly what made me able to look grieving friends in the eye and tell their grief and mess to pull up a chair. There is lots of crying and lots of grace here. Welcome to the party, there is plenty of room.
Grad school frazzled me in the best way possible. I never
realized how much identity I placed in if I was smart enough or had it all
together (or at least appeared to)…until
I felt like both of those things weren't true of myself anymore. It was
after I failed my first test in grad school, just several weeks after I started
taking an antidepressant and a couple weeks after my doctor wanted to test me
for ADHD (lol that is a whole other hilarious story). I saw my test grade
and laid on my couch staring at the ceiling in silence for an hour deciding
whether to laugh, cry, or pack a bag and leave for a perpetual road trip until
I figured out what the heck was going on with me. I was strategizing what
I would tell people when I failed out of grad school, already figuring out a
title for that blog: "When Dreams
Don't Work Out." haha!! I laid on my couch and thought/kind of
prayed, Alright, Lord: I turned 25 and lost my freaking mind and, apparently,
I'm not smart anymore. What else even is there? What else am
I? And I immediately remembered back to a night at the
beginning of January when I whispered an earnest prayer: let me be
lost in Your affection for me. I didn't really know why I
was even praying that at the time; I knew the Lord loved me. But it felt
like it came from a place of knowing that I didn't quite even understand yet,
if that makes sense. Like my heart knew I would need that before my mind
knew I did. When I was lying on my couch feeling like a complete failure
and mental mess, the Lord gently reminded me of that softly spoken prayer one
night. He said, This is what it means…you
can't measure, can't grade, can't add to it or take away from it, can't earn my
affection. It just is. You guys, listen. I believe with every bone
in my body that He parted the Red Sea and people walked on dry ground.
But I'm learning that sometimes the simplest truths are the hardest to
comprehend, and I was like…You love me even if I'm not smart?! Mind
blown. I thought I knew what it meant to be unconditionally loved until
the conditions I had imposed on myself were gone. It was one of those
moments where instead of judgment I felt the Lord's compassion for me.
Speaking of judgement; every circumstance I assumed I would be met with judgement I was met with compassion instead. From myself and from friends and family. Compassion seemed like a theme this year, and I'm thankful.
I dated some. At this point in my life, people are super interested about this. So let's talk about it. There were some really good parts that were fun and sweet and felt like a DREAM!! Those things were sweet while they lasted and I was thankful and truly soaked them up!
But for the most part dating is weird and hard. It gives me anxiety attacks. Haha! I'm not kidding, that's the hilarious part. Do you want me to be honest about this? I'm fine being honest about this. The most terrifying part about dating, to me, is that someone can change their mind, and sometimes without warning or reason. And they're allowed to change their mind—it isn't illegal or wrong. Dating is for seeing if you're compatible and if not, you don't continue dating. Sounds easy enough. For some people, this isn't a big deal. I need to learn to be okay with this—that people can change their minds—but for me it's terrifying. It's not that I have commitment issues. I can commit to someone. It's someone committing to me I'm unsure of. What I've learned about myself is that I don't feel like I can open up or settle into something if I'm not sure they're going to stick around. It's a constant underlying anxiety. Are they going to leave? Are they going to change their mind about me? But someone doesn't really want to stick around if they don't feel like they know you or if you're constantly questioning the relationship. I can't say I blame them. So you're both at a standstill, an impasse, and they start acting weird and you have to bring it up and then you have the awkward conversation that always ends the same exact way with them saying some version of I don't know, you're everything I'm looking for. You're perfect. You're a catch. There's nothing really wrong, it just feels like something is off, and then you just stop texting and it fizzles out, or it awkwardly keeps up in limbo for a few weeks until you shut it down because you'd rather be alone than be wanted half way.
This is funny to me because I'm so vulnerable with my friends and I can tell them anything. But a relationship is the total opposite for me. I feel like I'm the most confident, strong, sure woman in every other context of my life except a relationship. I know I'm a fierce and loyal friend, a kickass nurse, a fun and committed aunt. But it's like I lose all sense of self when I try to be in a relationship. It's not that I don't know how to love someone…I think I have a lot of love to give. I just become insecure and anxious and I hardly recognize myself. I hate that I do that, and I wish stopping it would be as easy as flipping a switch. I'm not sure if the pattern I repeat with dating is a self-fulfilling prophecy or just truth. I felt more often than not that I'll never get it right. But I somehow muster up that stubborn hope believing that someone will stay through the awkwardness and be patient with my hesitation and fear and doubt. Someone will not make me feel like too much or not enough, and they'll tell me I'm just right. Some days I'm hopeful I'll get it right, and other days I have to beg that belief out of me. And now when people say, Why are you single?! I don't get it! I'll just refer them to this paragraph/mini novel.
I never got to go to the ocean or lake (so far). I forget how much I need to be by water or sand every now and then.
The sweetest sound in the WORLD is still my nieces or nephews saying "Aunt Z!!" Hands down. Best thing ever.
I tried to take time at work and slow down for moments I wanted to be able to hold closely. I think the first year or two of being a nurse you're just trying to survive and not kill anyone, but I felt past that point of my career to where I could truly enjoy moments that seemed precious. One time in particular was when I had a very elderly, demented patient who would get agitated if you went anywhere near her. If you think she sounds harmless, little old demented ladies can throw a punch sometimes more efficiently than young men on drugs, believe me. She had a bloodied face from a fall, but she'd turn into the Hulk if you tried to clean her up. It was left bloodied for a long time because of this. I was particularly busy on that day, but I wanted so badly to clean the blood from her face because it was dripping into her eyes. I knew the nurse taking care of her before me had tried, but the patient wouldn't allow it and became combative. She was truly only calm if you just left her alone. I knew it seemed like a small thing to fret over when I had other patients who were sicker and I had 1,000 other things to do, but no one was actively dying and it seemed like one of those moments I would regret if I didn't do what was burning in my heart to do. I closed the door and pulled a chair up to her bed. I took a warm wet washcloth, and with one hand I stroked her soft, white hair, and with the other I gently wiped as much blood from her face as I could. She stared at me and I just kept talking softly and smiling, telling her I wanted to clean her face a little and poised to dodge a punch if she swung. She let me clean her face for a while and it was the calmest she'd been when I was near her. Any time she wouldn't let me near one spot I agreed and moved on to another. It only took about 5 minutes and it seemed so small and I didn't get her completely clean, but it was one of the best parts of my day. She didn't have anyone with her, and I don't get a ton of opportunities to slow down like that. I think it was a gift to us both. I wanted more moments like that, so I made time for them.
There was another day at work that I will hold closely forever, the rest of my life. I spent 5 hours with a tiny patient that I believe was meant just for me. He needed a foster home, and I was 20 minutes away from taking him home as his temporary foster parent when they found a distant relative to take him. I loved that little boy with every part of my heart and I got attached just like they tell you not to. And I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I wouldn't trade those 5 hours for the world. Even the part where he jumped off the bed and wrapped me up in a hug and said goodbye. It solidified the desire I have to become a foster parent some day. I wrote a letter to him here.
There were more hard conversations. But I remember walking away from one in particular thinking, The Mackenzie I was 2 years ago would have never had the balls to say those things. Driving home that night, I remembered back to when I was heartbroken a couple years prior. I had felt like 23 year old me was in a million little pieces, wondering how I'd ever put them all back together. And 25 year old me realized that I had put them all back together over the last 2 years in all the right places. Heartbreak will shake you—but when things are in little pieces, the ones you don't need seem to shake out a little easier along the way. I was thankful and proud in that moment, that even though I was shaking inside I stood up for myself and protected my worth that I had fought so hard to find.
The group of friends I found myself around the most made life so fun. I felt lighter and more carefree, laughed deeper and longer. I danced in movie theaters with strangers and laughed at myself more. I have felt more myself at 25 than I ever have before.
My circle of friends seemed to grow smaller this year, which is something I both grieved and appreciated at the same time. Friendships change, people come and go, and that used to be harder for me to stomach than it is these days. Instead of harboring sadness or bitterness towards the friendships that dissipated, I chose (it took/takes an act of choosing) to be thankful for them even if they look different now. And I made new, good, genuine friends. I'm thankful for them, too.
I saw a homeless friend become housed, and it was a moment of deep joy. We ate pizza and cookie cake in his new place to celebrate. We admired the bathroom, the king sized bed, the view from the large window. He let us all sit in his big recliner to see how comfortable it was. I looked out his window over downtown OKC and tears were impossible to avoid when I thought about every situation that had led me to that moment with that friend and the other friends in that room.
There seemed to be more and more days that I wanted to freeze-frame and keep forever, pull them back out when I needed them and relive them over and over again. There were several days where it felt like everything that had ever shifted in my life had settled in all the right places. I wanted to press that feeling into my heart the way people press flowers in between the pages of a book.
I held lots of babies and I loved every second of it. Watching my friends step into parenthood is one of the greatest joys. And I'm a firm believer the world feels right when you're holding a sleeping baby.
I blocked some numbers and then unblocked them and blocked them again. Seriously. But you know what? Block the number. Then unblock it. Get mad and block it again. Cry (sob). Whatever. Message on Instagram because technology gives you 1,000 ways to still be available. Then block them on Instagram. Delete the text messages because you don't need proof anymore. Even if it takes 1,000 times, you'll get there. The 1,000th time you won't look back.
I said yes to spontaneity more than ever and they were some of the best decisions I've ever made.
I made some decisions I wasn't proud of that took me awhile to forgive myself for. I'm human...I learned that lesson, too.
This is that age where you date someone and then you stop dating and the next thing you know they're engaged and it's weird. It's not like someone you dated from Jr. High or High School and you see them get engaged on Facebook. Someone who broke a little piece of my heart got married and I decided to be happy for them. It's less exhausting and less pathetic than reliving what they did wrong. Cheers.
Car trouble has a way of humbling you more than other things, I think. The first time my car broke down in September, I was driving on the highway when the engine stopped and there was smoke. It was slightly terrifying. I pulled over and stared at the dash in a panic trying to figure out what all the little lights meant. I didn't want to call and bother anyone. And to be honest, I was angry. My first, knee-jerk thought was: call Dad. And 0.2 seconds after that thought I rolled my eyes and chose to sit for a little longer because calling my dad wasn't an option and I was a little frazzled that had been my first response. That one thought made me flustered all day. And then I was angry that I knew nothing about cars. I hate feeling rescued. I hate not knowing things. I hate not being good at something. But the next few months of car trouble made me get over the fact I can't call my dad about car trouble and also get over the fact I don't know everything. I became thankful for the people who did have that knowledge and for everyone who helped and offered to help. It takes a village to live, and I have quite the people. I had to become dependent on others and ask for a lot of help. And I hated it, but those days of asking for help turned into legitimate quality time with the people who helped me. I'm thankful. And it also kind of becomes an adventure!! Like, what's going to fall off of my car today? Will it start today? Will I meet a nice stranger who will help me? Who will I have to call to come help? So thank you to Matt M., uncle Darren, Cody, Mom, my brother, Scott, the lady at the auto shop in a small Oklahoma town, the nice man named Ethan who helped me open the coolant cap (is that what it's called?) on the side of the turnpike in the rain, and the other nice man whose name I don't know who also helped me at the gas station with that same damn cap.
People will think what they want to think about you. I truly believe everyone's realities are a little different. People see situations with different perspectives. Sometimes a hard thing to do is stop trying to convince people and just live with your convictions and move on if they don't see you the way you want them to. And if you reach out to try and have a conversation or reconcile and they don't respond, that isn't on you. They're doing the best they can and it isn't up to you.
I am deeply loved and well cared for. Life is precious and I'm so thankful I was given another year to learn. It was a gift. I have everything I need and more. I'm truly a rich woman.
Goals for 26:
-find a beach and go there.
-take a small in-state vaca by myself. (Yes, mom, really.)
-go for more walks. like, leisurely walks. those are so nice.
-get up earlier. (this officially makes me feel old)
-give more money to causes I care about/spend less money on myself
-dance more. I don't even care about the context.
-invite more people to my apartment/cook for them.
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