Happy New Year! I know I'm a bit late, but with January coming to a close soon, I thought I'd give some insight into what my future semester holds for me.
From February to May, I will be studying abroad in England. Away from my country, my little liberal arts college on a Civil War battlefield. Away from my family, my twin and friends. What type of experience will this be for me?
I'm super excited for many things with this trip. I'm taking a Jane Austen class and what's a better place to study her work than IN England?! It'll be so cool.
I am nervous to be going so far away without my family. I finally have my twin in the same state as me, only a few hours away from me and I only enjoyed the closeness for one semester. It just landed on some bad timing.
This blog will be dedicated to my studies abroad with many fellow students from Gettysburg College and my love. I am very fortunate he's able to be there with me. Off to England!
~ E
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Let It Go
Phew! What a semester. After a really bad mix of classes, I made it through. Thank God. However, even struggling through this semester and reflecting on A LOT (thanks a lot Philosophy) I have multiple things to combine in this blog post, but I'll start off with the one thing that tops them all off.
Illinois.
Oh, that beautiful, horrendous state I hate. From past posts that I have written and taken down due to negative feed back from past people of my life, I won't go into heavy detail. My time in Illinois was hard. I was bullied a lot, from grade school on. I still have nightmares of being in high school with people I never really want to see again. I frequently dream of my old house that I didn't get to say goodbye too. In nice dreams, I'm with my few friends that I haven't seen in six months to a year, and I always cry through the entire dream. I miss them, and they miss me. And in a few weeks, I'll be heading back to visit my extended family that I haven't seen in a year. I know I've fallen off the face of the earth with them, which I always do during the school year. I always write in every single to-do list "Call Fooda. Call Grandma", which always gets pushed behind "Research for paper. Revise story". I am looking forward to seeing them, and I am really excited for a new goal I have set for myself. Even with the last two weeks of school being really hard for me, a song popped up on my newsfeed that I listened to that hit me square in the chest.
"Let It Go" by Idina Menzel from the movie Frozen. I have yet to see this movie, but while listening to this song, I caught some tears in my eyes. A sincere mix of happy and moving tears.
"It's funny how some distance, makes everything seem small. And the fears that once controlled me, can't get to me at all."
My home in Pennsylvania is about 14 hours from my past home in Illinois. That's a distance, and there are times, especially while I'm at school in Gettysburg surrounded by incredible people, I completely forget about my past life. My fears of friends and fear of joining a club or organization don't keep me from diving in head first. I am flourishing here, which means I must do something that the title of this song is banging over my head.
I must let it all go. Let all of the fear of the past go.
"I'm never going back; the past is in the past! Let it go, let it go! And I'll rise like the break of dawn!"
Just because I'm going back to Illinois does not mean I'm going back to the past. It is out of my life now and I am blossoming into the person I want to become. In the past two weeks, when I'm not hiding in my little cave to write a paper like a petrified bat, I'm going out with friends. I'm getting lunch with them, getting drinks with them. Ordering pizza, while the next morning we reminisce about our electric lemonades and gin and tonic adventures with a laugh and sincere happiness. I'm snuggling watching a movie or playing World of Warcraft with the love of my life. I'm texting my twin sister, planning our fun times when we are finally back together after school is out. I am so thankful for everyone in my life right now, so why am I not focusing on that? Why am I not trying to bring that with me to Illinois instead of bringing Illinois into my Pennsylvania life? Where is that logic?!
Despite it being SO far from New Years (in reality, not really but you get my drift), I already have my resolution for 2014. I vow that I will let go of Illinois. I will not have nightmares of the past. I will not let these people constantly pop up when I'm out with my friends here. I will enjoy their company and value the fun I have with them MORE because of my past, but I won't be constantly afraid that I'm going to come back from England and they won't speak to me. I won't be afraid of that. I am not afraid of that. I am happy they're apart of my life and apart of who I am.
To BK, BMJ and AJ (and MJ, cute little thing), the entire CWES house, the Gettysburg Semester students and every single person I have met at Gettysburg College, this one is to you. You have made my life everything I've wanted it to be. And, of course, my wonderful twin for always being there for me through the entire journey and the love of my life. RWN, I couldn't have come to this conclusion without you there to catch the tears when I let the fear of the past clash with my beautiful present and future. You truly are an incredible young man.
Time to let it go.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Scatterbrained
It's that time of year again. That time when things pile up until you can barely breath, and then finals are over. It's a very stressful time for me and countless other students, and I swear it takes a few years off my life. This year, however, has been the most difficult since my freshman year here at Gettysburg. No matter how many times I sit down and make a to-do list, I always forget to look at it, check it off, and when I do, I find that one out of a gazillion things able to be scratched off. Talk about frustrating.
Why the title of this blog is Scatterbrain is because that's what I am. It's been something I have struggled with since I was little, and that one day it became apparent to me that I was, indeed, a little disorganized.
It was the day I failed my first math test in 3rd grade. I had been such a spectacular students (or I felt like one, at the time) and I understood everything that was given to me. Then, the wall. The wall of mathematics that suddenly went WAY over my head. I tried as hard as I could to get things right, to work on it, but it wasn't connecting. I was horribly embarrassed and frightened, and I remember seeing commercials for the new movie Radio. I connected with it, for some reason, and I always told my mother that I felt like I was Radio. I felt like something was wrong with me.
When I was in 5th grade, I was finally tested for a learning disability. I remember sitting in a small colorful room with Dr. Kym as he asked me questions and quizzed me on certain things and talked to me about how I manage school. I told him honestly, I struggled to focus, as if I was fighting against an invisible brick wall. Numbers might as well be a different language. I was diagnosed with ADD, without the H. Attention Deficit (Hyperactivity) Disorder. I was able to sit still, but still faced some sluggish tendencies of the battle to pay attention. This disorder has been the butts of many jokes and sometimes has been misdiagnosed, but when is anything in science and study perfect? In all honesty, it's not funny. When people laugh about "Oh man, you're so ADD. Oops! Had an ADD moment, sorry", it isn't funny. It's something that people struggle with every day of their lives. And I'm one of them.
I was put on Adderall, but I felt as though it took away a huge part of who I am-- my creativity. I loved to paint, to draw and to creatively write, and this medication took all desire to do so away. I was regimented and structured. I felt like I put myself inside the lines, but I wasn't happy. I could focus but I felt a piece of myself missing. Feeling like I needed to make an 'adult' call, I talked to my doctor and told him I didn't want to be on it anymore. He listened to me talk, which to this day I appreciate. I was 11 or 12, and he treated me like my opinion mattered.
Freshman year of high school was another hard year for me. Math, my God. It shouldn't even be in a curriculum for students who aren't going into that field. I used to joke "When am I going to have to know Trig out of a battlefield tour?" and my favorite math teacher would say, "Em, lemme tell ya' something... the North won." and we'd both laugh. I skimmed through high school with enough focus to get by with decent grades, even with major surgery. When I found Gettysburg College, I busted my butt to get in here because I knew I belonged there. A world of Civil War scholars on a battlefield? Count me in!
What I didn't know was how hard Gettysburg truly is. Granted, they warn you. They really, really do. "A highly selective" liberal arts school means the best of the best come here, and I have always known that I am not one of them. Freshman year was hard, and I helplessly watched as my grades slowly began to fall one point after the other. After coming back from a Spanish class with my professor saying, "Emma, I don't know why you're not understanding this. There is no other way for me to explain it to you. Why isn't it sticking?" I knew I needed some help to get myself back on track and produce the work I knew I was capable of.
Now, two years later and a new medication, I still battle every day with what I call "the fuzz". It's a constant film over my thought process that medication helps me take away. I am able to get up and do work, but sometimes it fades. I still battle with distractions and other things I would rather be doing. I get bored with classes I don't like, which is another battle in itself the higher the education level goes.
The saying "Just do it" is hard for me to hear because sometimes, people can't. They can't do it through the fuzz. They can't just sit down and not have their thoughts fly in a million directions. And that's OKAY. There is nothing wrong with that. I am scatterbrained. I forget things, I take forever to read a book. Papers freak me out and projects always seem too big but I know that if I keep pushing, this will not define me. I do not want to be scatterbrained, even though I am. I strive to learn around my flaw that many people don't even know I have. I taught myself a new system of organization that I've even shared with some of my professors to help myself organize. I freeze when things pile up or when I'm faced with thoughts of my future. But I am still going. Sure, I may fall asleep after my medication wears off. Usually people don't notice unless they know. After 12 hours, I'm exhausted. I'm not lazy. I don't like sleeping so much. But I'd rather take the exhaustion and the fuzz-free day than be able to stay up late, do half the work I could have, and fight through the fuzz.
In the end, this semester has taught me that even though it may seem hard right now with countless pages, research, and finals ahead of me, I have overcome before. I got here, didn't I? So I can get to other places, even being scatterbrained.
My ADD doesn't define me. It makes the wonderful little person we call "Emma".
Why the title of this blog is Scatterbrain is because that's what I am. It's been something I have struggled with since I was little, and that one day it became apparent to me that I was, indeed, a little disorganized.
It was the day I failed my first math test in 3rd grade. I had been such a spectacular students (or I felt like one, at the time) and I understood everything that was given to me. Then, the wall. The wall of mathematics that suddenly went WAY over my head. I tried as hard as I could to get things right, to work on it, but it wasn't connecting. I was horribly embarrassed and frightened, and I remember seeing commercials for the new movie Radio. I connected with it, for some reason, and I always told my mother that I felt like I was Radio. I felt like something was wrong with me.
When I was in 5th grade, I was finally tested for a learning disability. I remember sitting in a small colorful room with Dr. Kym as he asked me questions and quizzed me on certain things and talked to me about how I manage school. I told him honestly, I struggled to focus, as if I was fighting against an invisible brick wall. Numbers might as well be a different language. I was diagnosed with ADD, without the H. Attention Deficit (Hyperactivity) Disorder. I was able to sit still, but still faced some sluggish tendencies of the battle to pay attention. This disorder has been the butts of many jokes and sometimes has been misdiagnosed, but when is anything in science and study perfect? In all honesty, it's not funny. When people laugh about "Oh man, you're so ADD. Oops! Had an ADD moment, sorry", it isn't funny. It's something that people struggle with every day of their lives. And I'm one of them.
I was put on Adderall, but I felt as though it took away a huge part of who I am-- my creativity. I loved to paint, to draw and to creatively write, and this medication took all desire to do so away. I was regimented and structured. I felt like I put myself inside the lines, but I wasn't happy. I could focus but I felt a piece of myself missing. Feeling like I needed to make an 'adult' call, I talked to my doctor and told him I didn't want to be on it anymore. He listened to me talk, which to this day I appreciate. I was 11 or 12, and he treated me like my opinion mattered.
Freshman year of high school was another hard year for me. Math, my God. It shouldn't even be in a curriculum for students who aren't going into that field. I used to joke "When am I going to have to know Trig out of a battlefield tour?" and my favorite math teacher would say, "Em, lemme tell ya' something... the North won." and we'd both laugh. I skimmed through high school with enough focus to get by with decent grades, even with major surgery. When I found Gettysburg College, I busted my butt to get in here because I knew I belonged there. A world of Civil War scholars on a battlefield? Count me in!
What I didn't know was how hard Gettysburg truly is. Granted, they warn you. They really, really do. "A highly selective" liberal arts school means the best of the best come here, and I have always known that I am not one of them. Freshman year was hard, and I helplessly watched as my grades slowly began to fall one point after the other. After coming back from a Spanish class with my professor saying, "Emma, I don't know why you're not understanding this. There is no other way for me to explain it to you. Why isn't it sticking?" I knew I needed some help to get myself back on track and produce the work I knew I was capable of.
Now, two years later and a new medication, I still battle every day with what I call "the fuzz". It's a constant film over my thought process that medication helps me take away. I am able to get up and do work, but sometimes it fades. I still battle with distractions and other things I would rather be doing. I get bored with classes I don't like, which is another battle in itself the higher the education level goes.
The saying "Just do it" is hard for me to hear because sometimes, people can't. They can't do it through the fuzz. They can't just sit down and not have their thoughts fly in a million directions. And that's OKAY. There is nothing wrong with that. I am scatterbrained. I forget things, I take forever to read a book. Papers freak me out and projects always seem too big but I know that if I keep pushing, this will not define me. I do not want to be scatterbrained, even though I am. I strive to learn around my flaw that many people don't even know I have. I taught myself a new system of organization that I've even shared with some of my professors to help myself organize. I freeze when things pile up or when I'm faced with thoughts of my future. But I am still going. Sure, I may fall asleep after my medication wears off. Usually people don't notice unless they know. After 12 hours, I'm exhausted. I'm not lazy. I don't like sleeping so much. But I'd rather take the exhaustion and the fuzz-free day than be able to stay up late, do half the work I could have, and fight through the fuzz.
In the end, this semester has taught me that even though it may seem hard right now with countless pages, research, and finals ahead of me, I have overcome before. I got here, didn't I? So I can get to other places, even being scatterbrained.
My ADD doesn't define me. It makes the wonderful little person we call "Emma".
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Twenty-One
On Wednesday, November 13th, I will be turning twenty-one.
I know this blog is usually things I reflect on or ponder, and for the past week I have had a million things to ponder. How will I write this paper? How am I going to do this presentation? How will I spend time with my house? How will I spend time with my boyfriend? Family? Friends? Where am I going this summer? What do I want to do with my life? When will I get my room organized? Why does it always take forever for me to do laundry? Why does purple make-up always make my eyes burn?
Despite the randomness of my thoughts, some of these points stick out more than others. For example, my upcoming summer. I want to intern at one park, but one park might not want me. From my gathered knowledge, many OTHER parks want me to intern for them. While grappling with what I want to do verses what I should do, it all boils down to now being an adult. I'll be of legal age to drink after the 13th... so now I'm an adult? How is that right?
What I've come to realize is that birthday's do not mean you'll change overnight. The only thing that changes is the number and for me, the fact that I can drink. Change doesn't come with the stroke of midnight, and it takes time to happen. On every birthday since I was 18, I have learned that it takes time. Takes time to what? That's what life is to decide.
On the night before my 18th birthday, my sister and I sat up to watch the clock hit midnight. We would finally be a legal adult and no longer a minor, and for me, that was a big deal. I had a guy I was head over heels in love with constantly telling me I needed to turn 18 for us to date. He was a few years older than me, which made that requirement understandable. But for me, it was something more. I thought once I turned 18, I would have a revelation in my life and would change into this beautiful, attractive, sexy and desired woman once the clock stroked twelve. I literally held my breath as my computer clock hit midnight.
At 12:01, I didn't feel any different. Nothing had changed, and no message of saying, "Oh yes, Emma, I want to be with you!" came to me. I was stunned, but now looking back, I laugh. I wanted change so badly that I thought it would be easy. Nothing in life is easy, 18-year-old self. Things are hard, and you have to fight through them. That night I could barely talk because of spacers in my teeth for my 3rd set of braces. Now, years later, I have the joy of a retainer and lovely straight teeth. YEARS LATER. Just like braces, it takes time to change into the straight perfection we all crave, and sometimes perfection isn't achieved. I have some space still between my teeth, but they look wonderful, so what's the problem? What's the problem with not being ready? I wasn't ready for a serious relationship at 18. I wasn't ready for the change of adulthood yet, either. And even at 21, I'm not so sure I'm ready for adulthood.
But that's the beauty of change. It doesn't come when you're not ready. Doesn't even come when you're ready! It comes when you're not even looking. This upcoming decision for my summer won't come when I'm sitting at the computer biting my nails wondering and hoping and PRAYING that an answer will fall out of the sky. It'll come when I've had a rough day and I'm overwhelmed or when it's been a wonderful day and I've been productive. In both scenarios, I'm just taking my life one day at a time. I'm successful in the sense that I got up and faced the day. Some days it's hard, and others I'm bounding for the door. But with every day that I go and live my life, I'm changing. Not drastically and not over night, but I'm maturing into the adult I want to be. I'm learning lessons, both academically and socially. I am learning about myself and my limitations that I can take into the workforce or future education opportunities. I am learning that I care deeply for my friends and that's okay; they care about me too. I am learning that a relationship isn't easy, but the purest, deepest love helps work things out, even if it takes a month. If you really love someone, you'll work through it all. Fight and yell at each other, but then say "I'm sorry" to each other and admit to your faults.
B and I had been struggling for the past few weeks on quality time and communication. I couldn't understand why he wanted to be in the library all the time on the weekends instead of spending the day with me. The work wouldn't be due for days, even weeks! But he couldn't understand why I wouldn't let him work. A vicious cycle of trying to fit together with our passion for knowledge but our want of quality time didn't work for almost a month. Change didn't come until we weren't looking. A casual conversation on the upcoming week turned into a life changing heart to heart that struck both of us to the core. Since that day, we have been working together beautifully, and have returned to the working machine of a relationship.
But that wasn't at the stroke of midnight. It wasn't even a birthday. It was just a day after we grew and learned the hard way.
To my many birthday buddies, have a wonderful birthday. I'll be toasting you with my first legal glass of wine... or Jameson, or something.
~E
I know this blog is usually things I reflect on or ponder, and for the past week I have had a million things to ponder. How will I write this paper? How am I going to do this presentation? How will I spend time with my house? How will I spend time with my boyfriend? Family? Friends? Where am I going this summer? What do I want to do with my life? When will I get my room organized? Why does it always take forever for me to do laundry? Why does purple make-up always make my eyes burn?
Despite the randomness of my thoughts, some of these points stick out more than others. For example, my upcoming summer. I want to intern at one park, but one park might not want me. From my gathered knowledge, many OTHER parks want me to intern for them. While grappling with what I want to do verses what I should do, it all boils down to now being an adult. I'll be of legal age to drink after the 13th... so now I'm an adult? How is that right?
What I've come to realize is that birthday's do not mean you'll change overnight. The only thing that changes is the number and for me, the fact that I can drink. Change doesn't come with the stroke of midnight, and it takes time to happen. On every birthday since I was 18, I have learned that it takes time. Takes time to what? That's what life is to decide.
On the night before my 18th birthday, my sister and I sat up to watch the clock hit midnight. We would finally be a legal adult and no longer a minor, and for me, that was a big deal. I had a guy I was head over heels in love with constantly telling me I needed to turn 18 for us to date. He was a few years older than me, which made that requirement understandable. But for me, it was something more. I thought once I turned 18, I would have a revelation in my life and would change into this beautiful, attractive, sexy and desired woman once the clock stroked twelve. I literally held my breath as my computer clock hit midnight.
At 12:01, I didn't feel any different. Nothing had changed, and no message of saying, "Oh yes, Emma, I want to be with you!" came to me. I was stunned, but now looking back, I laugh. I wanted change so badly that I thought it would be easy. Nothing in life is easy, 18-year-old self. Things are hard, and you have to fight through them. That night I could barely talk because of spacers in my teeth for my 3rd set of braces. Now, years later, I have the joy of a retainer and lovely straight teeth. YEARS LATER. Just like braces, it takes time to change into the straight perfection we all crave, and sometimes perfection isn't achieved. I have some space still between my teeth, but they look wonderful, so what's the problem? What's the problem with not being ready? I wasn't ready for a serious relationship at 18. I wasn't ready for the change of adulthood yet, either. And even at 21, I'm not so sure I'm ready for adulthood.
But that's the beauty of change. It doesn't come when you're not ready. Doesn't even come when you're ready! It comes when you're not even looking. This upcoming decision for my summer won't come when I'm sitting at the computer biting my nails wondering and hoping and PRAYING that an answer will fall out of the sky. It'll come when I've had a rough day and I'm overwhelmed or when it's been a wonderful day and I've been productive. In both scenarios, I'm just taking my life one day at a time. I'm successful in the sense that I got up and faced the day. Some days it's hard, and others I'm bounding for the door. But with every day that I go and live my life, I'm changing. Not drastically and not over night, but I'm maturing into the adult I want to be. I'm learning lessons, both academically and socially. I am learning about myself and my limitations that I can take into the workforce or future education opportunities. I am learning that I care deeply for my friends and that's okay; they care about me too. I am learning that a relationship isn't easy, but the purest, deepest love helps work things out, even if it takes a month. If you really love someone, you'll work through it all. Fight and yell at each other, but then say "I'm sorry" to each other and admit to your faults.
B and I had been struggling for the past few weeks on quality time and communication. I couldn't understand why he wanted to be in the library all the time on the weekends instead of spending the day with me. The work wouldn't be due for days, even weeks! But he couldn't understand why I wouldn't let him work. A vicious cycle of trying to fit together with our passion for knowledge but our want of quality time didn't work for almost a month. Change didn't come until we weren't looking. A casual conversation on the upcoming week turned into a life changing heart to heart that struck both of us to the core. Since that day, we have been working together beautifully, and have returned to the working machine of a relationship.
But that wasn't at the stroke of midnight. It wasn't even a birthday. It was just a day after we grew and learned the hard way.
To my many birthday buddies, have a wonderful birthday. I'll be toasting you with my first legal glass of wine... or Jameson, or something.
~E
Thursday, September 26, 2013
May the Civil War Force Be With You
It's been an interesting month of September for me. I'm a junior in college now, which is kind of a limbo stage between being a college student and being an adult. I still am in school, but I'm getting closer and closer to that time of making a choice.
Do I go off to graduate school, or do I get a job and wait a year?
As I walked back home from my class this morning, the song "Breakaway" by Kelly Clarkson came on my iPod. For the first time, really, I listened to the words, and it struck me hard. When I came to Gettysburg College, it was a huge change. I wanted to break away and go find who I was. Who am I? What do I want to do in my life?
I was scared. I was afraid of taking a risk and following my dreams. All these thoughts of "I want to do this! I want to do that!" flooded my head in the first few weeks of my freshman year. But a life changing paper in my First Year Seminar brought me to a man who's been in my thoughts and prayers for the past few weeks. A man who took this overly excited, jumpy, skiddish, obsessed kid and turned her into a calm, collected, upcoming historian.
For privacy sake, I'm going to call him "Obi-Wan". Yes, this is from Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars, but his mentoring advice has been like a Jedi to a young padawan.
I chose Obi-Wan as the person to interview for this paper because I had seen him on TV. A documentary on the battle of Gettysburg featured him and many other historians talking about the battle, and I noticed under his name it said "Gettysburg College". I literally started shaking my friend next to me, screaming "HE COULD BE ONE OF MY PROFESSORS! I AM GOING TO HAVE HIM AS A PROFESSOR OH MY GOOOODD!" From that moment, I knew I wanted to meet him. His passion for the subject he was talking about was so obvious. It literally dripped off every word he said in the documentary, and I wanted to learn how to do that. I wanted to learn how to convey this passion in such a powerful way.
From that interview on, he has pushed me to succeed. I had only been on campus for a few weeks, and he was already telling me to apply for an internship program, become a Civil War Fellow and to get involved with the Civil War community. I was so scared, but the faith he put in me was so encouraging, I did exactly what he said. When I walked into the internship interview, a table full of supervisory historians from many different National Park battlefields looked up at me and smiled.
"So, I hear you are a twin?"
I froze, shakily answering that I was, in fact, and identical twin. I must have had a very confused look on my face, because they all laughed.
"(Obi-Wan) was just talking about you, and how you're an identical twin. That must be really cool!"
I remember blushing, looking over at Obi-Wan with a huge smile on my face. He nodded to me, and started the interview off on a cheerful note. Coming out of that interview, and now knowing what happened behind the scenes, I was not the first choice for many of the parks. I was only an 18 year old freshman with no real work experience, and I had never lived on my own. They seemed leery of me, but Obi-Wan stuck his neck out for me. A supervisory historian from the park I ended up going to told me months later that had it not been for Obi-Wan's advice, he wouldn't have chosen me, but he was so thankful he did. "I was so glad I listened to (Obi-Wan), because he was right. You were the right choice."
Obi-Wan has impacted my life so much in the limited time I've been here at Gettysburg College. He has always told me I have potential, that I will be a wonderful historian if I just put some faith in myself. When I told him I was thinking about switching majors because so many students around me were telling me I wasn't a good historian, a good writer, or a good researcher, he told me to knock it off.
"Emma, that's crazy. Who ever told you that? You just have the confidence in yourself to keep going. You'll get there."
Now, I reverse this back to him. My Obi-Wan discovered a brain tumor earlier this month, which has been removed successfully. Now diagnosed with cancer, he has a whole new battle to fight. But like my scared little freshman self, I use his words on him.
Have confidence in yourself, Obi-Wan. Keep going, because you'll get there. You'll be back before you know it, scarves and all. The Civil War Force flows strongly through you, and you are supported by an army of Civil Warriors. Students, friends, and faculty are all behind you.
I also want to thank him, for everything he has done for me. I'm not afraid to start a historical conversation. I enjoy discussing history with people around me, and I don't doubt myself. I am a young padawan, learning to use the Civil War Force as my Jedi Master has taught me. I continue to pray, as I ask the people who read this blog to as well, for the Force to be with him, and that he may have a successful recovery.
May the Force be with you.
~E
Do I go off to graduate school, or do I get a job and wait a year?
As I walked back home from my class this morning, the song "Breakaway" by Kelly Clarkson came on my iPod. For the first time, really, I listened to the words, and it struck me hard. When I came to Gettysburg College, it was a huge change. I wanted to break away and go find who I was. Who am I? What do I want to do in my life?
I was scared. I was afraid of taking a risk and following my dreams. All these thoughts of "I want to do this! I want to do that!" flooded my head in the first few weeks of my freshman year. But a life changing paper in my First Year Seminar brought me to a man who's been in my thoughts and prayers for the past few weeks. A man who took this overly excited, jumpy, skiddish, obsessed kid and turned her into a calm, collected, upcoming historian.
For privacy sake, I'm going to call him "Obi-Wan". Yes, this is from Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars, but his mentoring advice has been like a Jedi to a young padawan.
I chose Obi-Wan as the person to interview for this paper because I had seen him on TV. A documentary on the battle of Gettysburg featured him and many other historians talking about the battle, and I noticed under his name it said "Gettysburg College". I literally started shaking my friend next to me, screaming "HE COULD BE ONE OF MY PROFESSORS! I AM GOING TO HAVE HIM AS A PROFESSOR OH MY GOOOODD!" From that moment, I knew I wanted to meet him. His passion for the subject he was talking about was so obvious. It literally dripped off every word he said in the documentary, and I wanted to learn how to do that. I wanted to learn how to convey this passion in such a powerful way.
From that interview on, he has pushed me to succeed. I had only been on campus for a few weeks, and he was already telling me to apply for an internship program, become a Civil War Fellow and to get involved with the Civil War community. I was so scared, but the faith he put in me was so encouraging, I did exactly what he said. When I walked into the internship interview, a table full of supervisory historians from many different National Park battlefields looked up at me and smiled.
"So, I hear you are a twin?"
I froze, shakily answering that I was, in fact, and identical twin. I must have had a very confused look on my face, because they all laughed.
"(Obi-Wan) was just talking about you, and how you're an identical twin. That must be really cool!"
I remember blushing, looking over at Obi-Wan with a huge smile on my face. He nodded to me, and started the interview off on a cheerful note. Coming out of that interview, and now knowing what happened behind the scenes, I was not the first choice for many of the parks. I was only an 18 year old freshman with no real work experience, and I had never lived on my own. They seemed leery of me, but Obi-Wan stuck his neck out for me. A supervisory historian from the park I ended up going to told me months later that had it not been for Obi-Wan's advice, he wouldn't have chosen me, but he was so thankful he did. "I was so glad I listened to (Obi-Wan), because he was right. You were the right choice."
Obi-Wan has impacted my life so much in the limited time I've been here at Gettysburg College. He has always told me I have potential, that I will be a wonderful historian if I just put some faith in myself. When I told him I was thinking about switching majors because so many students around me were telling me I wasn't a good historian, a good writer, or a good researcher, he told me to knock it off.
"Emma, that's crazy. Who ever told you that? You just have the confidence in yourself to keep going. You'll get there."
Now, I reverse this back to him. My Obi-Wan discovered a brain tumor earlier this month, which has been removed successfully. Now diagnosed with cancer, he has a whole new battle to fight. But like my scared little freshman self, I use his words on him.
Have confidence in yourself, Obi-Wan. Keep going, because you'll get there. You'll be back before you know it, scarves and all. The Civil War Force flows strongly through you, and you are supported by an army of Civil Warriors. Students, friends, and faculty are all behind you.
I also want to thank him, for everything he has done for me. I'm not afraid to start a historical conversation. I enjoy discussing history with people around me, and I don't doubt myself. I am a young padawan, learning to use the Civil War Force as my Jedi Master has taught me. I continue to pray, as I ask the people who read this blog to as well, for the Force to be with him, and that he may have a successful recovery.
May the Force be with you.
~E
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Fears of My Face
Has anyone ever had a traumatic experience? Maybe a bad break up that makes you afraid of love, a car accident that makes you afraid to drive or a fall that makes you afraid of heights?
We all have something that we are afraid of, whether it be logical or not. It usually stems from something that has happened to us in the past which makes us afraid of the future. Recently, I have had one suddenly bubble up in my chest, making my heart race and bring tears to my eyes at just the thought of it.
My face.
Since I was 12, I have suffered from TMJ. That is short for temporal mandibular joint disorder, which is the joints that make up your jaw. Those beautiful hinges that get a lot of exercise during the day, from drinking a glass of water to chewing a piece of gum to giving someone a kiss, use the muscles and joints in your face. To save everyone from the long story, I'll sum it up quick: the left joint wouldn't stop growing, the right did stop growing, and my face shifted. True, many people today don't believe me that my face is off center, which I appreciate, but I can guarantee you, it is. Which is a-okay! I have finally reached that point in my life where I love my face, my crooked little chin and lopsided bones. It makes me, well, me. I've had two facial surgeries in my lifetime, the last being rather traumatic. I had my mouth wired shut, with times to open and close my mouth for a specific time for 9 months. Limited liquid, non-chew diet to a soft chew diet until the 9 months was up. It was hard, and with this struggle emerged a deep seeded fear of reversal.
I am deathly afraid my face will go back to how it was before my surgery.
That ripping, tearing agony that shred through every fiber in my face, the sharp, quick shots of pain that sliced through the joints and into my eyes, my head and neck could return. I know it won't, but I have this fear that it could.
During one of my times out of my mouth piece, my splint had accidentally been knocked off the bathroom counter and into the garbage can. Returning to put my equipment back on, I couldn't find it. I searched through every nook and cranny of the bathroom, through the kitchen where I had something to eat, and I dumped out my jaw back all the way down to the last rubber band. Panic set in, and I started to cry. I was frantic, having only one thing go through my head.
I don't want to go back.
Finally digging through the garbage, I found my splint at the bottom of the can. It was perfectly fine, just happened to get buried. I sobbed that particular cry of fright, one where you're trying to gasp for air while feeling like you can't breathe. Rocking back and forth with that little piece of plastic in my hands, I thanked God for the ability to find it. That little piece with those little rubber bands guaranteed me a life that was pain free. As long as I had that, I was safe. My face was still safe.
It's been almost 4 years since my surgery, and I am still pain free. It has been a long road, with many sets of braces, multiple retainers and diet restrictions. But one little thing can burst that safety balloon, and I have done just that. My current retainer has been damaged, and I have no idea how. I've worn it for the past two years, and it suddenly wouldn't fit. One of the side wired was accidentally bent, and I couldn't figure out how. How do I fix it? How do I sleep without it? What will happen if I don't have it? What's going to happen?!
I've finally have an appointment set up to get myself a new one, a couple months after my last one was damaged, but the fear still boils up once in a while, especially in moments like this. My palms sweat and my heart races as I remember those long nights laying in bed with every muscle relaxed from my medication while my face throbbed, untouched from the pill.
God doesn't give you fear for nothing. Even with this fear, I have this deep thanks for His blessing of a pain free life. Every day, I get up and go to class no problem, which is the polar opposite as it was years ago when I struggled to go to school through the pain. What a blessing it is. The loss of such a blessing is a scary, and I pray to God every day to keep my face safe.
It is my crooked little face, after all, and I wouldn't be Emma without talkin' a lot.
~E
My face.
Since I was 12, I have suffered from TMJ. That is short for temporal mandibular joint disorder, which is the joints that make up your jaw. Those beautiful hinges that get a lot of exercise during the day, from drinking a glass of water to chewing a piece of gum to giving someone a kiss, use the muscles and joints in your face. To save everyone from the long story, I'll sum it up quick: the left joint wouldn't stop growing, the right did stop growing, and my face shifted. True, many people today don't believe me that my face is off center, which I appreciate, but I can guarantee you, it is. Which is a-okay! I have finally reached that point in my life where I love my face, my crooked little chin and lopsided bones. It makes me, well, me. I've had two facial surgeries in my lifetime, the last being rather traumatic. I had my mouth wired shut, with times to open and close my mouth for a specific time for 9 months. Limited liquid, non-chew diet to a soft chew diet until the 9 months was up. It was hard, and with this struggle emerged a deep seeded fear of reversal.
I am deathly afraid my face will go back to how it was before my surgery.
That ripping, tearing agony that shred through every fiber in my face, the sharp, quick shots of pain that sliced through the joints and into my eyes, my head and neck could return. I know it won't, but I have this fear that it could.
During one of my times out of my mouth piece, my splint had accidentally been knocked off the bathroom counter and into the garbage can. Returning to put my equipment back on, I couldn't find it. I searched through every nook and cranny of the bathroom, through the kitchen where I had something to eat, and I dumped out my jaw back all the way down to the last rubber band. Panic set in, and I started to cry. I was frantic, having only one thing go through my head.
I don't want to go back.
Finally digging through the garbage, I found my splint at the bottom of the can. It was perfectly fine, just happened to get buried. I sobbed that particular cry of fright, one where you're trying to gasp for air while feeling like you can't breathe. Rocking back and forth with that little piece of plastic in my hands, I thanked God for the ability to find it. That little piece with those little rubber bands guaranteed me a life that was pain free. As long as I had that, I was safe. My face was still safe.
It's been almost 4 years since my surgery, and I am still pain free. It has been a long road, with many sets of braces, multiple retainers and diet restrictions. But one little thing can burst that safety balloon, and I have done just that. My current retainer has been damaged, and I have no idea how. I've worn it for the past two years, and it suddenly wouldn't fit. One of the side wired was accidentally bent, and I couldn't figure out how. How do I fix it? How do I sleep without it? What will happen if I don't have it? What's going to happen?!
I've finally have an appointment set up to get myself a new one, a couple months after my last one was damaged, but the fear still boils up once in a while, especially in moments like this. My palms sweat and my heart races as I remember those long nights laying in bed with every muscle relaxed from my medication while my face throbbed, untouched from the pill.
God doesn't give you fear for nothing. Even with this fear, I have this deep thanks for His blessing of a pain free life. Every day, I get up and go to class no problem, which is the polar opposite as it was years ago when I struggled to go to school through the pain. What a blessing it is. The loss of such a blessing is a scary, and I pray to God every day to keep my face safe.
It is my crooked little face, after all, and I wouldn't be Emma without talkin' a lot.
~E
Sunday, June 9, 2013
One Year
I have been quiet on here for a while, for which I apologize. I have started my internship with the National Park Service, working at Richmond National Battlefields. It has been an incredible first two weeks, with the staff and work being so much fun. Having this much fun makes getting up for work in the morning ten-times easier. I am truly grateful for this opportunity for the second summer in a row. and also grateful that Bobby is working so close to my park, especially since we're just about to make it to our one year anniversary.
The technically day that we have pinned is June 12th, despite us being together since today, the 9th. We were so nervous to be around each other when he came to visit Fredericksburg for the first time, which was weird compared to the countless hours we spent together just as friends during the school year. We were always close, sharing our love for history and the Civil War, but it was never like this. It was never this comfortable than that moment as I slipped my hand into his. A completing calm filled my heart, and I knew that I had found the one. I still feel like that today, though it is much stronger a year later.
I know I talk about him a lot, and bring him up frequently, but he is half of who I am. We encourage each other, support each other, even make fun of each other. Our life together is full of love and laughter, with more joy than I ever could have dreamed of. My life isn't anything like I thought it would be years ago--- it is 100x better.
As I go into my next week of work and my tour is coming together, I feel so grateful for how my life has turned out. In one year, I have made new friends, fallen in love, found my dream job, moved to a different state, and worked harder than ever, and it's paying off. I'm smiling more, I find myself laughing more and enjoying where I am today. Hell, I'm even sleeping better and deeper than before. No more nightmares of my past, just dreams of my future and my life. In one year, my life has changed for the better, and I cannot wait to see what this next year will bring.
To my love, my darling Robert--
Thank you for riding the front row of my roller coaster life, holding my hand in all the twists and turns. Even in a year, you still want to keep your seat at the front despite the unknown track. I couldn't be more blessed to have you in my life, for many years to come. I love you with all of my heart and more. Forever and for always.
~E
The technically day that we have pinned is June 12th, despite us being together since today, the 9th. We were so nervous to be around each other when he came to visit Fredericksburg for the first time, which was weird compared to the countless hours we spent together just as friends during the school year. We were always close, sharing our love for history and the Civil War, but it was never like this. It was never this comfortable than that moment as I slipped my hand into his. A completing calm filled my heart, and I knew that I had found the one. I still feel like that today, though it is much stronger a year later.
I know I talk about him a lot, and bring him up frequently, but he is half of who I am. We encourage each other, support each other, even make fun of each other. Our life together is full of love and laughter, with more joy than I ever could have dreamed of. My life isn't anything like I thought it would be years ago--- it is 100x better.
As I go into my next week of work and my tour is coming together, I feel so grateful for how my life has turned out. In one year, I have made new friends, fallen in love, found my dream job, moved to a different state, and worked harder than ever, and it's paying off. I'm smiling more, I find myself laughing more and enjoying where I am today. Hell, I'm even sleeping better and deeper than before. No more nightmares of my past, just dreams of my future and my life. In one year, my life has changed for the better, and I cannot wait to see what this next year will bring.
 |
To my love, my darling Robert--
Thank you for riding the front row of my roller coaster life, holding my hand in all the twists and turns. Even in a year, you still want to keep your seat at the front despite the unknown track. I couldn't be more blessed to have you in my life, for many years to come. I love you with all of my heart and more. Forever and for always.
~E
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