Grandma Katie

     So this past weekend, I went to my grandma's funeral. She was my last living grandparent and that made it all the more of a bitter pill to swallow. We've never had what could be described as a great relationship, but I loved her dearly, and I know she felt the same about me. I was surprised how upset I was at her actual funeral. I had written an homage to her, but was crying so hard I couldn't even talk. Needless to say, I didn't stand up to read it. I think more than anything, I felt like part of my childhood died too. Whenever we went back to Minnesota to visit, we always stayed in her basement. Now, not only is she not around, but her house is being emptied, her possessions sold, and we will never again spend two weeks ever summer in the same house I've been coming to for 23 years.
     So here it is, my final homage to my last grandparent and what I see as the closing lines of the chapter of my childhood:

For C.C.N. From A.C.N.

Stephen S. Wise wrote “An unshared life is not living. He who shares does not lessen, but greaten his life.” My Grandma Katie always knew how to share her life with the people around her. She wrote letters, played piano in nursing homes, went to church, was a substitute teacher, travelled all over, made friends with her neighbors, and sent Christmas cards out by the dozens.
As one of her grandchildren, I was often portrayed on these cards when I was young, usually in snowy day clothes and always in the company of my cousins Christine and Emily, multiple cats, and the words of whatever song or poem caught Grandma’s eye that year. Being rendered in pen and ink and having it mailed out in a card thrilled me at that age. Consequently, Grandma’s cards made a big impression on me from the time I was very young and became an integral part of the holiday season for me. It’s strange and sad to think that we won’t be getting a Christmas card from St. Louis Park this year, but the last time I saw Grandma, about a month ago, she shared something with me that’ll make this Christmas a little easier.
Sitting in her living room, she told me, “I like the song “Forever Young” by Bob Dylan. I don’t like the music and I don’t really like him, but I like how it rhymes and I like the sentiment. I was going to put it in this year’s Christmas card, with at least two cats, maybe three. So if I don’t do a Christmas card this year, well then you’ll know what it was going to be.” 
Now I don’t know what part of that song she was planning on including, but the last verse is what has always given me the most comfort when times get tough.

May your hands always be busy 
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation 
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful 
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
May you stay forever young.

The Truth Comes Out

     I feel like most people had their roughest patch in middle school, or junior high, or high school. Not me. My roughest patch started my second semester of college and guys, it's STILL going on. I'm 23 years old, I'll be 24 in July, and I'm still waking up most mornings feeling like complete shit.
     I feel like there's two big factors in my rough patch. The first is major depression and anxiety. I've tried most medications out there in different doses and different combinations and the only thing they all had in common was making me feel like a hollow, unemotional shell. Yeah, the utterly hopeless feeling and crippling anxiety were gone, but they left me feeling like someone else entirely. In my opinion, it wasn't worth the tradeoff. If you have never been depressed, and I mean really depressed not just a case of the blues, consider yourself incredibly lucky. We all have a cross or two to bear and while it's an aspect of the human condition to think that the burden we bear is heavier than someone else's, I know that there is worse baggage to drag around. So yes, while depression and anxiety are my burdens and they aren't something I'd wish on my worst enemy, I recognize that they aren't the worst things out there. Even more importantly perhaps, I know that these issues will be with me for the rest of my life and that they are something I'm going to have to learn to deal with and accept and until I do, I won't be truly happy. The second factor? The factor that is making it so difficult for me to accept my anxiety and depression? The factor that is making my daily case of the "mean reds"* so utterly unbearable?
     I don't love myself. Hell, I don't even like me.
     Even seeing it written there seems silly and immature. That's how deep this goes. I can't even admit an honest truth about myself without putting myself down about it, about the validity of what I'm feeling. My best friend in the entire world told me the other day that she thinks she's "a total badass" and that even though she has moments of self-doubt, they are tempered with moments of total acceptance and love for herself. She is truly a complete and total badass through and through, so I can see how she feels that way, but I can't help but wonder where she found that acceptance of herself? There are a lot of redeeming qualities to me and there are things that I've done that I'm really proud of and aspects of my personality that I find charming in other people, so why is it that I can't even like myself? How did my friend manage to turn her accomplishments and personality traits into self-love?
    I don't know. I don't think it's something that can be explained, certainly not explained by someone who possesses no self-love of their own. All I know is, that I won't get over my rough patch and into the next stage of my life until I learn to love me. All my life, I've looked for self-validation from others, from my parents, teachers, grades, and men. Mostly men. I've had some rotten relationships. I've been cheated on and, physically, emotionally, and verbally abused more times than I can count. I rely on men to tell me I'm pretty or smart or funny or that they can't live without me because I can't live with me.
     My new boyfriend is really great. He is the kindest man I've been with and he treats me so well. We have fun together and even though it's early in the relationship, I see potential for something more there. That something more? It's never going to happen with him or anyone else until I learn to love myself, or at least like myself. I wrote some resolutions down at the beginning of the year. Most of them, I haven't stuck to very well but that's okay. That's okay, because my biggest resolution for the month, for the year, for the rest of my life is to learn to love me.

* This is from Breakfast at Tiffany's. If you haven't seen it or don't remember what the "mean reds" are, go here: http://movieclips.com/AEsN-breakfast-at-tiffanys-movie-the-mean-reds/ and watch immediately.