Here it is, your place to disclose. Post anonymously, sign your name, it's up to you, in the comments box below.
My post, a best, is a poem. I reached a point in my life of coming to terms with a visitor I'd rather not entertain, but would tempt it when riding my motorcycle.
turned
I’ve yet to see your face
though I’ve felt your breath on my neck
that time at pavement passing ‘neath my feet
too quick to yield myself alive
and once when heart and mind
disagreed with autonomy derived
from nature’s pure intent and form
the physician’s hypothesis to stand
and that morning I resisted looking up
away from my son’s face
drew his terminal breath
and kept it, I refused to see your face
on the evening she expired
my mother let you take her will
something she had long fought for
till resting in my arms
some words still I can’t write
as though in their spelling lives the constant I deny
the thought that spurned the thought that brought you ’bout
the fear that this is it on which I’ve turned a corner
twist the throttle open and rush the pavement past
as if distance were a savior
far enough away to stave the stare
I refuse to admit to mine
so quick I yield myself alive
and breathing deeper joy than felt before
the sun now warms my nape
since I’ve let them do the same
-e
There was a night a little over a year ago. I hadn't heard from my closest friend for a few nights so I decided to call him, knowing now what I did then I realize if I hadn't life would've been changed as I know it. That night he was planning to get in his car and drive off the nearest bridge. My timing (we always joke that it's simultaneously the best and the worst in the world) was right as he was picking up his keys. That night I helped him back from that precipice and helped him remember he had something to live for. He's told me I saved his life that night, though I'd rather think I only helped him to evaluate where he was standing. The fact remains that my best is reflected in that phone call.
ReplyDeleteMy best moment isn't when I felt the most happy but when I felt like I was doing one of the most important things there is to do in life: protect the ones I love.
ReplyDeleteIn my story my brother is both the person to protect and the enemy to escape from.
My brother had a bad day hanging out with some people he had just barely met, so bad that he didn't want to live anymore. Luckily in those moments of despair he called me up to talk. He said he wanted to die and I didn't want him to be left alone so I slowly tried to convince him to come home and talk to me. He said he couldn't because my mom had called him up earlier wondering where he was and when he was coming home and that said off my brother so he called her a bitch. That was a major no-no in my family and I'm sure for just about any family so my mom was pissed and thus my dad was too. So, of course, my brother wanted to avoid coming home as much as possible.
My brother's safety is what mattered most so I presented a solution. I lived in the basement at the time and my window was easily accessible if I didn't want to use the front door (yes I did use this to my advantage many times). I told him to sneak through my window so we could talk and he could avoid conflict with my parents. So he does this. Unfortunately he wasn't sneaky enough because my dad saw him climb through the window.
My dad comes down stairs and with a threatening voice says, "Get up stairs, we need to talk." I knew this was not going to go over well because my brother was in an unstable emotional state and that could lead to a fight which aren't always with words when it comes to my dad and my brother. But my dad's wife had been offended so my brother's emotions are never taken into consideration in this situation.
To speed things up, my dad and mom sat down with him and there was a lot of name calling going back and forth. Now I'm not an expert but my brother was just about to kill himself and all he wanted was some help but all he got was threatened. He was like an animal pinned in the corner; eventually when the animal is backed up far enough it will lash out to fight for its survival. My brother saw a glass object in his peripheral and picked it up. As this happened I interjected. I forced my brother to only listen to my words, calmly telling him to hand me the object. My parents were talking in the background and I told them, "Let him come talk to me. I'll handle this. Go to bed." At one point I may have shouted at them but I don't remember because my brother was the one that needed taken care of, not them. Of course they didn't want to listen at first but they realized that they were obviously making things worse. My parents leave and my brother finally gets to talk about what's wrong. We talk about the way he perceived his bad experience and then the reality of it and eventually he concluded that his thoughts were irrational and he no longer has the desire to die. In fact, he feared dying and he realized that through talking through his problems.
This is definitely the most extreme case I've dealt with when helping others with emotional problems. But I find that I am at my best when I listen to others problems and show them that no matter what they say or do I am there to help them be okay; I won't run away.
My "best" would have to be my life as a single mom. My husband drowned when I was 40 years old, and I was left with 4 kids to raise, ranging in ages from 10 to 18. I still remember the trauma of that day and having to pick up 10 year old Lindsay from a birthday party she had been attending to tell her that her dad had just drowned. There are 5 stages to grief, and I learned that everyone goes through them at different times and in a different order. So while I was going through anger, Linday was in sadness, Allison was in denial, Jeff was in shock, and Ryan was in depression. Over the years I feel like I've managed to pull off successfully raising my kids. Communication was a huge factor in achieving that goal. When Ryan was 17, I remember him telling his friends, "Come on in and talk to my mom. She knows everything about relationships." We used to joke in our house that 90% of the conversations centered around relationships. But of course, that was when there were 3 kids and mom all dating. What else would we talk about?? Of course, that's not true that I knew it all, but I've had lots of counseling,(later a man I was dating committed suicide), read lots of books, and just had lots of life's experiences and lessons. I took my kids on fabulous, unique vacations, bought two 4-wheelers and a tent after dad died and took them camping and 4-wheeling throughout their teenage years, spent hours and hours talking and listening, hanging out with their friends, making our home a comfortable place for them to hang out at, and at times, helping some of them seek counseling.
ReplyDeleteToday, Jeff who is 26 and lives in Florida (temporarily) and who just graduated from college last year and speaks Cantonese, Mandarin, and Arabic will call me at least weekly, and we always talk 2-3 hours...about tons of subjects. I have a card on my refrigerator from little Lindsay (who is now 23) telling me "thank you" for always being there to talk to, for being a fun parent, and for all I've done for her. Allison is a happily married school teacher and has 4 wonderful kids. Ryan has also graduated from college, has a great job in Portland, is happily married, and expecting their first baby. I'm a person who tends to measure success on something tangible. That's how I feel about a college diploma, my medal from the marathon that hangs in my kitchen, my African animals from my Safari that are mounted and share my bedroom with me, (I'm the only woman I know who actually likes having dead animals in her bedroom!), but actually, I realize that real success, that "my real best", doesn't come from something tangible. My "best" comes from knowing I worked hard to keep everyone emotionally and mentally stable and physically taken care of. Thirteen years later I feel like my kids have grown up to be productive, successful adults, have learned good communication skills, and now in the cycle of life, can go out into the world and find their own "best".
My best is a simple one. I didn't save anyones life, or do some amazing achievement, all I did was what I was being paid to do.
ReplyDeleteMy senior year of high school I received my CNA (Certified nursing assistant) to be one step closer to my goal of becoming a RN (registered nurse). I had always known that I wanted to be a nurse, and now I was on the track to becoming one! So after getting my CNA, that summer I found a job at an Assisted Living residency. I was working the grave shift and realized how much work it was! Every morning when I came home, I was sweating, had an aching back and feet, and tears in my eyes because of how hard it was for me. It took everything I had, and tons of encouragement from my parents to keep pressing forward. After a few weeks of work, it became easier, I now had a routine, knew the residents better, and gained some muscle which made my work much easier. At the end of summer, it was my time to leave Orem and head south. I did my last rounds and took care of the residents one last time. It was such a touching moment to tell the residents that I was going to leave. They all had such nice things to say to me about how wonderful I was and what a good job I had done. I had stayed a little longer with one resident who I had become very close with. Some days he would remember who I was, and other days he could barely open his eyes or even stand. On my last day he was the most awake and alert I had ever seen him. We had a great talk about him being in the Korean war and about movies that he loved and he even tried to set me up on a date with a family member of his in St. George. He told me I had done everything "just perfect" and that he loved me very much and that I was now supposed to go get married and have babies! That morning was a beautiful one and instead of coming home in tears of being so tired, I came home with tears of happiness for how much I had learned that summer, and because of how much I was going to miss everyone.
When I am helping others and making a difference in their life, no matter how dirty the work is, that is when I am at my best.
I am a very kind person and would do anything for a random stranger. If Someone came to me and asked for 50 dollars and i have 51 dollars in the back i would give it to them. I love helping others and will do it whenever i can. Wether it be talking a homeless person to lunch of just sitting down and talking with a friend or stranger. My best is my love for others. I try everyday to make at least one persons life better. If one person has a better day i have succeeded.
ReplyDeleteMy personal best isn't that incredible. When i was 16 I was in an abusive relationship for over a year. I didn't think i would ever get out of it. I was 17 when something amazing happened...He had to move farther away from me, because of this I was able to get a clear head and realized that the relationship I was in was toxic. I ended the relationship but the scariest part was after I broke up with him he continued to leave threatening voice mails on my cell phone to the point where he said he was outside of my school waiting for me. I had to have the cop escort me around the entire day, The police officer also had to call my ex's cell phone to tell him to stop calling me or he would be charged with harassment. It didn't all end there of course, I had to push it further to where I had to get a restraining order but after everything had finally settled down I felt a large amount of relief. I feel like I am able to live a full life without the fear of being beaten to a pulp.
ReplyDeleteMy best is the day I confessed all my sin to the Bishop. I've grown up in a family where all my siblings were perfect. Everyone got good grades and everyone lived by the(LDS)church standards.When I was 15 I decided that I was tired of following all the rules and being a perfect Mormon girl. I would sneak out of my house all the time, steal the car and go drinking with my friends. I fooled around with boys and went against everything I had previously believed in. My parents never knew though. No one except my closest friends knew. I still put on the face of a perfect Mormon girl. When I was a senior in high school, everything had finally caught up to me. The people who knew about my past started to reject me. And others who didn't know followed their lead. I wasn't the happy, bubbly girl that I used to be. I was living my life through lies. The day I finally worked up the courage to tell the bishop was the most emotional day of my life. That walk down the hall to his office was the longest 10 seconds of my life. After I told him everything, I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. He told me I didn't need to tell my parents and no one else had to know. My parents still don't know to this day, and they never will. But since that day, I'm back to the old me. I always have a smile on my face and nothing can bring me down. I can be my best self everyday now.
ReplyDeleteI felt as though if I am going to be writing about my best everyone who is reading this should know who I am and why I am saying what my best was. although my best wasn't saving someone else. I believe it to be just as important as I had to save my self. It was five years ago in April when I had finally reached my wits end. I was clinically depressed and under so much stress I literally wanted to die. I had just turned 16 in March and had quite a few life issues already, 8 months before I turned 16 we found out my eldest sister Becky had stage 4 ACC (Adenoid Cycstic Carcinoma). By this time in her life she had already been through a few months of chemotherapy. she was sick all the time and was living upstairs because she couldn't physically walk down the stairs to their basement apartment any more. From a space of December to February I had been raped by a close friends boyfriend three times. When the day came in March that I tried to confront my "close" friend about said situation, she chose not to believe me and ended our friendship. After everything that had happened I had reached my ends wit, already depressed for at least a good 3 years before I had fallen into a very bad addiction of self mutilation, or cutting, myself. The night I lost my friend to top it all off, I had a very VERY bad day at work (my first job at that point). when my mother came to pick me up she asked me if anything was wrong. Being a silly teenage girl who always wore a happy face around everyone I said yes of course mom. The whole time wishing, picturing, and imagining my death that I so longed for at the time. As we got home I went to the place I usually would to "release" my pain and anger. Just as I was about to make the final decision to end my life my mother walked into the room seeing me there she asked what I was thinking and placed me immediately the next day into a psychiatric unit, where I then started undergoing extensive mental help, because I was just "too normal" for a kid that was as depressed as I was, as I never showed pain or anger. I never wanted to burden anyone with my emotional difficulties, that I know now was a silly thought. the first day I was allowed a phone call my sister Becky called me, until the moment I had this conversation with my sister and in other words one of my best friends, I had still wanted to die. I was done hurting and it felt as though nothing would change that. She told me She loved me, that She wishes she could have seen the pain I was in, she told me she always thought she should ask but I always seemed so happy. She told me how much my mother and my father loved me, she told me that life was worth living, that sometimes you may not see it till it's near the end but that it is a beautiful experience that we only get to experience once. her words inspire me still to this day that my life is worth living. She helped me realize in myself that I had something to live for and that my life is beautiful and special and that if I try I can succeed at whatever I want to succeed at. That week I overcame my addictions, my fears, and my longing for death. To this day, whenever I feel that my life is too hard, and that I can't take any more pain, I think back on what my sister told me. and how the last thing she said to me in that conversation was one of us is already dying... It isn't fair for more of us to cause mom so much pain. I now try to live my life as selfless and happy as I can. I disclose this to you in memory of my dear sister Becky who passed away May of 2007.
ReplyDeleteMy best always involves trying to get people to open up to me. Sometimes I succeed and other times I don't. I just hope I can come across as someone that my friends can trust, because then I am at my best.
ReplyDelete