During class today, I just got really sad. It was around 7:41pm and if I had been alone, I would have probably cried, but I carried on in my usual rambunctious nature. I journaled during the last group’s presentation. I needed to get words out. I remember why I journaled as a thirteen-year-old. I had no one to talk to. I have talked to a lot of people in the past three weeks, but sometimes, it still feels like I have no one to talk to when I really need to talk. My struggle is in my general distrust of people. So sharing sorrow and opening myself is a long-term process. I disclose only when I feel safe. There’s an article about a baby seal that took three years to photograph because it took that long to trust the photographer. I’m a baby seal. I know I am wrong. I know it. I don’t need people to tell me I am wrong. I need people to prove me wrong.
I left class and just sat in my car listening to the same song. Row by The Autumn Film.
She hid under her covers
In fear for her life
The water rushed over
While she capsized
May your heart hold on
When it gets hard
And may your pulse stay strong
When you’re falling apart
Row, row, row your boat
Row, row, row your boat
All these words transcendently resound my life.
Songs turn into pictures in my mind. I see a girl departing an island, she should have never ventured to in the first place. Leaving the island and entering the ocean again was a wise decision, but came with its challenges. Exiting the island meant two things: (1) she opened herself to the ocean never knowing when and where she will drop anchor for a final time and (2) she exposed herself to the harshness of the seas. If departing was hard, she immediately enters a storm in her little rowboat. There are moments where the eclipse of the waves seems manageable, but there are other moments like these lines where she capsizes. The winds and waves crash and collapse and overturn her little boat. So, she just holds her breath as she manages to turn herself the right way up once again to fight the wind and the rain and the salty ocean water. With tears of determination in her right eye and tears of pain in her left, she just keeps rowing. She just keeps rowing, slowly, painfully, gently.
I finally drove away to pick up Chick-fil-A. I needed a change from my steamable Veggie Pasta meals. I went home and ate dinner in my bed like I always do and watched Totally Spies to numb whatever I was feeling until I garnered enough emotional and creative wherewithal to document it and share it with people on Friday morning.
There’s no perfect resolution to a storm except to keep rowing. So, I will keep doing exactly that.