I liked it...

To Write Love On Her Arms

Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."

I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.

Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.

She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "FUCK UP" large across her left forearm.

The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.

She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.

I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes
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Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.

She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.

On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.

Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.

After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.

She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.

As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."

I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.

We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.

We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.

I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember.

Chimerical. C-h-i-m-e-r-i-c-a-l. Highly unrealistic, wildly fanciful... I love you...

I figure it's about time for my monthly update.

I am so incredibly frustrated with medical professionals. As a warning, this may be considered TMI, and if you choose not to continue reading, that's fine. For the last two months they have had me on a rollercoaster of emotions! I initially went to the doctor to refill my birth control. At that point I had been four days late. The doctor talked to me about the length of my cycles, which are abnormally long, especially for being on bc. With bc you should have a 28 day cycle, having a period every time you hit the white pills. My cycles are 41 days long, bc or no. So I would have some months where my period landed during white pills, some months where my period came during blue pills, and some months where it doesn't come at all. After talking to the doctor she said she needed to look at something, and left. When she returned she very bluntly said that I could not have children because I am not ovulating. Talk about being hit in the stomach with a bag of bricks! She continued to explain that cycles longer than 35 days don't experience ovulation. She said she normally would have given my a pregnancy test, but there was no point in it. She then sent me to a lab to do a blood test to check hormone levels, and referred me to a gynecologist. Four vials of blood and three hours later I'm sitting in my car sobbing like a baby. Fast forward a couple weeks, still no period. I went to the gyno, who they gave me no option as to the gender of, and had an exam. He said everything seemed normal, but didn't understand why I wasn't given a pregnancy test. He said that there is always a chance that I did get pregnant, and sent me for a test. Afterwards he said the more likely explanation was that I had polycystic ovarian syndrome. He also said that the way it looked, the longer Alex and I wait to have a baby the harder it's going to be to get pregnant. He said that if it was PCOS there were things we could do, and there was a good chance we would get pregnant. He had me schedule an ultrasound and prescribed me provera to start my period. Alex and I talked about everything and decided we were going to start ttc in June after he gets rated in air traffic control. Fast forward a few more weeks, still no period. I still haven't started the provera because the lab won't give me the results of my pregnancy test, and I can't start the pills until we know I'm not pregnant. I go for my ultrasound, at the end of that I asked what she saw. She refuses to tell me anything. IT'S MY EFFING BODY! WHY THE HELL WILL NO ONE TELL ME ANYTHING?? So I then storm to the women's clinic to demand my results where I am then told to call a million different numbers. I finally get a call saying I am not pregnant and to start my pills. Fast forward two and a half weeks to a few days ago, I just started my period. I went to the gyno to review my ultrasound results. He says I do not have PCOS, and they don't see any reason for my body to be doing what it is. He says he thinks I ovulate, but it's just very sporadic. He says the only thing they really found was a nabothian cyst on my left ovary, but those aren't much of anything. The only thing odd about that was that it was on my ovary, normally they show up on the uterus. Other than that, he said he didn't know what to tell me. He said something is obviously going on, they just can't figure out what. The only way they'll really be able to figure anything out is if I stop taking bc and we start trying for a baby. I asked if he still thinks we need to try for a baby sooner rather than later, and he says he won't know until Alex and I start ttc. Then he prescribed me a stronger dose of bc and said he wants to meet in December to see what that does. So basically, I'm kinda broken and they don't really know exactly how to fix me. After talking to Alex, he's not so sure he wants to try for a baby as soon unless the doctor recommends we do. When I go see the doctor again I'm going to ask him what he thinks, and what exactly we need to do to find out where things are going. I should have started my new birth control yesterday, but I can't get myself to do it. I've done some reading online, and there are a lot of women who have trouble getting pregnant after getting off bc... If there's the chance I'm going to have more issues in the long run even without bc, do I really wanna make it more difficult? I'm just a little scared of the possibility... I haven't told Alex about that yet... I don't think he'd be too happy. I just really don't know what to do about that situation...

Additionally, I was fired from Dairy Queen. Although, I feel I must add that had she not asked me to leave, I would have left that very day on my own. I had informed her days before that the milk we were using was expired by a couple days. It didn't smell bad at that point, but if it wasn't finished that day it needed to be tossed. three days later, we were still using milk with the same expiration date. I brought this to her attention again, and refused to sell anything made with that milk. So she went to the back, pulled out a new jug. She then quickly added the milk to the milkshake that had been ordered, and put it away. The whole thing struck me as odd, so I pulled the jug back out and looked at the date. It had expired on October 31, and the current date was November 7. It was two days older than the milk I had originally refused to sell. What topped it all off was the fact that the milkshake was made for a little girl! After the customers left I told Mrs. Kim that this was disgusting and wrong and I was tired of doing it. I was tired of selling rotten ice cream to customers. We bickered back and forth about for about ten minutes. She said I should have told her that the ice cream mix smelled bad in the mornings, that there was nothing she could do if I didn't tell her. That's when I snapped and said I did tell her, I made her smell it most mornings, and she never did anything about it, she sold it! I told her I was not going to be responsible for getting people sick. I told her it was disgusting, and Alex and I don't eat there for exactly that reason. That was when she told me maybe it was best if I just went home. I told her I agreed and I was sorry things didn't work out.

I was so fucking proud of myself for actually standing up to her. And then I went home and took a nap because I was emotionally drained.

I enrolled in spring classes, and I'm pretty excited! I'm taking Math, Music Appreciation, Basic Musicianship, World Religion, and Intro to Teaching. I think it'll be an intense semester, but worth it. By February I'll probably hate it :o)

Okay, I think that's enough typing for now.

Just wanted to give a quick update. Still hunting for a job and failing miserably. I applied at a vet clinic for a receptionist position a few weeks ago and he still hasn't looked at applications. I sent my resume to an RV dealership today and hoping I hear something. Mrs. Kim is driving my crazy! She cuts my hours back to nearly nothing and then when I ask for next weekend off she refuses to give it to me. This SUCKS! :o( Umm I got an A on both my sociology and Arabic quizzes, and have an Arabic test on Tuesday. Wish me luck.

Oh, before I forget, the lady who writes a blog I follow is having a giveaway. I've seen a couple of these lately, and I really like this one. It's Halloween themed and we know my addiction to Halloween. :o) Here's the link in case anyone else is interested! http://amazinamie.blogspot.com/2009/09/halloween-giveaway_10.html

Surprise!

I've gotta make this quick before I lose everything, but I felt I had to update this.

I'm writing a little bit for Punished! Granted, I'm not sure if it will fit, but worst case scenario I'll fix what I had to make this work. I am writing a lovely cliff hanger as well :o) The perfect way to end a chapter, as long as it's not in something I'm reading.

I'll do a better update as soon as I finish, I promise.

Pulling my hair out.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

Mrs. Kim called me this morning and the conversation went exactly like this:

Me: Hello?

Mrs. Kim: Kaylei?

M: Yes, Mrs. Kim?

K: Kaylei?

M: Yes, Mrs. Kim?

K: Okay, Kaylei! You know yesterday how is slow? And day before, and all week?

M: Yes, Mrs. Kim?

K: Yes, I uhh I not have you come in today. You stay home. It just no business. It too slow.

M: Oh, ok.

K: You know, company got to survive. So you stay home.

M: Ok Mrs. Kim.

K: Thank you Kaylei!

M: No problem, bye.

K: Bye!


So, of course, I was less than happy about this. Fine, whatever. 7 hours this week, great! I'm looking for a new job anyways. I calmed myself down and Alex let me know we had a couple errands to run. So we get in the car and start driving to the pet store. As we pass DQ I happen to look over and see that fucking Jeanne is there! She told me to stay home today and called JEANNE in! Fucking Jeanne who was scheduled 5 days on top of having a second job! She doesn't need the fucking hours! I DO! It's so effing frustrating!

I just want someone to give me a call offering an interview, if nothing else.

Do you believe in something beautiful?

I'm frustrated.

I'm working at Dairy Queen and they have pretty much trained me to be a manager. Which is awesome, I mean for once a fast food place has held true on a promise. However, I know this cycle. You begin to get ahead in a fast food place and you get sucked in. There isn't nearly enough compensation for the bull shit you have to put up with. 7.75$ isn't nearly enough for opening the store, counting the drawers, scrubbing the base boards, counting truck, dealing with bitchy customers, handling the latest crisis, closing the store, and serving rancid milkshakes.

I'm searching and searching for a job elsewhere, but I'm not having any luck. I'd kill for a job like Marissa's. She hates it half the time, but the money is good, and she meets spiffy people. We have the construction guys that come into DQ, and I love talking to them. They're funny and know how to take a joke and how to interpret my sarcasm. I would love to work with people like that.

I'm tired of scams. Scams for jobs, scams for cars, scams for everything. What the hell happened to our world? Everyone is trying to scam everyone! It's ridiculous! There have been the crap scams that are obviously scams, saying you've own a million dollars, just give them your ssn. Now that I'm job hunting I'm seeing so many job offers that are fake. Why? What's the point? It's annoying.

On a positive note, we're getting a second vehicle on Tuesday. It'll be nice not having to depend on Alex to get me places, or for him to be home so I can get myself places.

School started again, and I love my Arabic class... Or I love the content and I love the way my instructor presents the information. I hate actually being in the class. I sit in my own little corner, in my own little chair, and practically hide the entire two and a half hours. Was it always this bad? Was I always this shy? As much as I enjoy the class, I am so relieved once we're dismissed.

So, as you can see, I need to work on some things.

Look out, she'll tear your heart out...

I've hit a wall I guess, and I really don't know why. I'm happy in the sense that the things in my life are amazing. I love Alex with all of my heart, I'm getting the education to get where I want to be, the friends I have couldn't be better... But at the same time I am so incredibly sad. I feel stupid because there is absolutely no reason to feel this way. I've tried, but I can't make it go away. I think part of it might be that I'm lonely, but I can't make myself meet anyone. I feel like I'm back in elementary school where the thought of being around all those people made me want to cry. It's ridiculous. I think maybe I'm one of those people who can have the best life, and still won't be happy for long. It's not that I want more or want something else, because I don't. I have what I've always wanted, and it's wonderful... I just... This emotion is elusive for me. It shows up for a while, but just as quickly, it hides away again. I don't understand how it works. There's a quote from The Perks of Being a Wallflower that I adore, "So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be." That stuck with me so well when I finished reading. I think I'm going to read it again soon... I've been nostalgic about high school, as crazy as that might sound. I want that closeness, that knowledge that every day I'm going to be with the people who kept me going. I have that with Alex, but as shy as I might be, I also need more. I wish Marissa lived only a few minutes away again. I hate that my high school life line has died. Marissa is the only one who never really left me, and I thank everything holy for that. I was naive. I was certain that we were all so close that college and distance wouldn't kill what we had... but it did. I can't call Colin and ask for advice. I can't randomly give Matty P a bear hug. I can't tag along with Kat and watch Charmed. I can't act like a fool on stage with Jess. I can't stay the night with Marissa whenever I want. I'm too far away. Our lives aren't intertwined as they were. Things have changed, and I'm having trouble accepting that. I'm complaining, and that's not what I meant to do.

I guess, in the end, I'm sad and I don't know how to fix it. And that sucks.

I didn't separate into paragraphs, and I don't care.

I knew a girl who hated the world...

It's been hectic. I've been behind in every class, and pretty much losing my mind on the friend front. At this moment I should be doing a biology lab which I have to take a quiz on by midnight, or studying Spanish, which I have a quiz on Monday, and everyone is depending on me to know the material so I can go over everything with them. I've just been stressed.

I got a "C" on my history test, which pisses me off. Granted, most of the class got about the same grade, but still... If I would have put effort into actually studying and taking better notes, I would have done so much better. I don't know why my grades mean so much more to me now than they did in high school... Maybe it's because last semester showed me what I am capable of. Or maybe it's because I am paying for the classes. Or maybe I'm just crazy...

I haven't been feeling great lately, go figure. I don't care about that, not really. Despite feeling like crap, anytime Richard asks to hang out I say sure. Which sucks because I am miserable the entire time. Twice, we could have stayed out longer, but he wanted to go home because HE wasn't feeling well. That will play a role in a bit. Anyhow, I got a text from Richard last night about Karen and all of her bullshit. At the end he asked if we could hang out this weekend. I said I wasn't completely sure. Friday (today) I was going to clean up, get caught up in classes, and sleep because I still don't feel hot. Saturday I promised Andrea it would be just her and I because we are going out for her birthday. Sunday night i previously planned to study Spanish with Alissa once she got off of work. If we did anything it would have to be Sunday day.
R: Mk
M: Does that work for you?
R: I guess.
M: What's wrong?
R: Don't take this the wrong way, maybe it's just because you are sick, but it feels like our friendship is fading. You're distant and you never want to do anything.
M: No, that isn't it at all. I'm sorry if you're feeling that way, but when i don't feel well all I want to do is sleep. Everytime you have asked to do something I say yes, but warn you I might not be a lot of fun.
R: It's just odd.
M: Well, I promise we will hang out on Sunday day and I'll be as lively as possible.
R: Fine.
M: If you want I can get as much stuff done as possible on Friday and we can try to figure out something to do.
R: No, you should rest.


I don't understand. He gets upset when I say we can't hang out until Sunday, but refuses when I offer to get together sooner. What does he want me to do? Plus, we don't really do anything! Once in a while we take my car out to some nature place and walk around for 5 minutes. Other times we drive my car to Charlottesville to walk around for 5 minutes. Other times we drive my car to Harrisonburg to walk around for 5 minutes. Occasionally he talks me into taking him to test drive cars. Most times we stop for lunch and/or dinner. We spend the entire day doing that. He doesn't have money right now, so it's me paying for EVERYTHING. He also doesn't have a vehicle, so it's my car driving EVERYWHERE. Yes, we are comfortable with money, but that doesn't mean I need to go crazy. I go through a tank of gas in two days! Not to mention, my grades are slipping because I am always off doing something. Then he has the gall to say I'm distant and making it feel like our friendship is fading. It pisses me off! I rarely ask for payment in return, but this has been going on for about two months! I've bought him cigarettes and food and taken him all sorts of places. I need something in return! Ugh. I feel like I'm over reacting. That comment just really bugged me.

I'm going to go do biology now.

Oh, to end on a positive note, I see Marissa in 9 days!

But when he comes they don't know how to go...

Well... I was good for two days. It's just like it used to be. I can hold myself together for the most part when people are around, but the moment I am alone it all starts again. I think Alex blames himself a little, for not being here, and that just pisses me off. Not at him, at me. He was cute, he caught on and went into protector mode. He got rid of the juice, he made me cut up the pictures, he made me delete most of my MP3 player, he made me cancel my bad Myspace, and said he doesn't want me talking to Kat anymore. We semi fought. It wasn't a real fight, just me crying and him pinning me down in a hug so I couldn't run away. He stayed there just like that, hugging me against the couch until I quit crying and I got a hold of myself. Then he talked to me for a few hours, long enough to get me to think clearly. Apparently not long enough to keep me thinking clearly. I know it's stupid, and I know it looks like it's all for attention, but it's not. I swear it's not. I just can't always keep it under control.

In time though.

Not even going to think of something catchy...

Alright. I trying to calm down. God we fucked up. Alex's grandma died, and he got a ticket to come home for the funeral. But money is tight. His ticket purchase just went through, and Anita already cashed our rent check before I could talk to her. So now our account is overdrawn by 174$, and there is nothing I can do to fix it until Thursday. I don't know what to do, and I'm freaking out.