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NLW's Journal


NLW's Journal

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PROFILE




3 entries this month
 

06:04 Jun 29 2014
Times Read: 559


I've written a bit about my past before in this journal. This week, I had an assignment where I had to write about my past, and my future. This is the result. It may or may not be the final version. Forgive me if I haven't formatted the quotes properly.







“By a route obscure and lonely/Haunted by ill angels only”



Those are the first two lines of one of my favorite poems- “Dreamland” by Edgar Allan Poe. The hardest part of this assignment was, for me, picturing the future. When I tried, I saw nothing. The poem popped into my head. Then I thought about it more. The future is undefined. It hasn't happened yet. I realized those lines sound more like my past, and possibly a representation of my fear of the future.



I was born in Redondo Beach, California. When I was two, my parents divorced. When I was three, my mother decided to move herself, my brother, and me to Oklahoma. When I was eight, and still living in Oklahoma, my mother let me stay with my grandparents (my father's parents) for summer vacation. When I got back to Oklahoma, my mom was packing.



We had traveled to Oklahoma on a plane. We left on a bus. It took three days before we arrived in California.



I got to visit my grandparents the next summer. I also got to see my dad for the first time in years around this time- while I was staying with my grandparents. When I arrived back in California, my mom picked me up at the airport. She informed me we were going to be moving again. This time we were going to be living with her boyfriend.



Before my next summer vacation, my mom mentioned that she might have to put me in foster care. So when I got to Colorado, I told my grandparents what was going on. First, that my mom spent most nights out drinking, often leaving me alone, starting when we lived in Oklahoma, and second, that she was talking about putting me in foster care, but that my friends, who'd been in foster care, told me how bad it was, and I didn't want to go. I told them I'd rather live with her, but I asked if I could live with them if she brought it up again and was serious about it. They said yes. I asked them to not say anything to her. I told them I'd tell her, if I had to. They agreed not to say anything.



About a month after I got back from my vacation, my mom had a fight with her boyfriend, and we ended up leaving in the middle of the night to go stay with my aunt and cousin. On the way, my mom decided it was too late to disturb them. We ended up sleeping in the car in a parking lot somewhere between Redondo Beach and Gardena. We'd stayed with my aunt and cousin a couple of weeks when she brought up foster care again.



I said, “Mom, I've already taken care of it. I've talked to my grandparents about it, and they said I could live with them.”



She looked blankly at me for a few seconds, then she said,”If that's what you want, then make the call.”



I picked up the heavy, black, rotary phone and dialed their number. I spoke to them, then I handed the phone to my mother. A few days later, my mother took me to the airport. I got on the plane, alone, at LAX, and landed at Stapleton. My grandparents were there to pick me up and take me home. I was ten years old. I didn't see my mother again for seven years.



When I was eleven, my grandfather sought, and was granted, permanent custody.



The summer I was twelve, my mother called from California. My grandfather answered the phone. When he hung up, he turned to my grandmother and said, “Eddie's gone.”

My father had died of lung cancer. He never told us he was sick.



Shortly after that, I ended up showing signs of OCD, and depression. I didn't seek treatment until years later.



I went to college, the first time, right out of high school- the University of Northern Colorado, in Greeley. I wanted to get a performance degree- a Bachelor's of Music- and play violin in an orchestra. I was having a difficult time being away from home. I hadn't yet learned to drive and had to rely on my grandfather to come take me home for weekends every other week. I felt isolated and abandoned. And the violin professor, who just happened to also be the head of the string department and my advisor, was a bad fit for me. I was too sensitive to be able to handle his s t y l e of teaching. I was already struggling with that when at the end of my second year- in May- my grandmother called me. My grandfather had died.



My life fell apart. I tried to hold it together, at first. I went back to class the next fall, but after awhile, I couldn't do it any longer. I gave up. I dropped out.



When I was twenty-eight, I sought treatment for my depression and OCD. It helped, but it wasn't enough, and the medication stopped working, although I remained on it for years, until I could no longer afford it.



May 19th of last year, on a website I frequently use, someone messaged me asking to be my friend. I agreed. We talked a lot online, and at some point I told him that I'd played the violin, but that I hadn't seriously done it for twenty-two years. He asked me to learn two songs to play over the phone for him. Starting June 28th, I started playing again. I went on Youtube to learn the songs by ear. I used what I remembered, trial and error, and what I could gain by watching online violin instructors and violinists to learn to play again. Two days later, I played for him. When I was finished, I said I knew it wasn't perfect.



He asked me, “Did I ask for perfect?”

I said, “No.”



Not long after that, I ended up telling him that my former high school orchestra teacher had gotten in touch with me years before, asking me to come audition for the Longmont Symphony, but that I was too afraid at that time, and that I didn't feel I was good enough. He said I should contact her and find out when the auditions were. I don't know why I did it.



Fifty-eight days after starting to play again, after not playing for twenty-two years, I was standing before the conductor, the Concertmistress, the Principal Second (who is my former orchestra teacher) and the Principal Violist. I knew my playing would be horrible. I was terrified. But I did it anyway.



They let me in on a “provisional” basis, with the idea being that I would re-audition in a couple of months. After a while, the conductor said he'd been watching me, and that I didn't have to re-audition.



Playing the violin again seemed to do something to balance my brain. I was doing better at work, I had more energy, and I generally felt more positive. What could going back to school do? I felt I had already taken a step to improve my life. I knew going back to school would add to that.



That's what I envision for the future- improvement. I am learning, more and more that perfection is something I shouldn't think about- that for me, it's destructive. Instead, my new motto is, “If something is worth doing, it's worth doing poorly, because by doing it, you'll improve”.



If I picture what a day would be like for me in the future, I can't picture everything perfectly, but having learned from my past, I know there are things that I want to have. I want stability. I want a job with regular hours- every day, or at least, every week, the same. I want to have enough to eat, enough to see the doctor when I need to, to get my home repaired when necessary, and enough to own a car again. I want to do something I love- or at least like. I want to have room in my life to create. I want to continue to learn and grow. Most of all, I want to feel safe- a feeling I didn't get a lot as a child, and a feeling I don't get a lot now.



With an education, I will have more options, and I will be better able to deal with life's changes. And maybe there will be fewer ill angels- or maybe I'll just be better able to deal with them.


COMMENTS

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TheArtistRose
TheArtistRose
07:13 Jun 29 2014

Rock on! That's an amazing life you've lead. You never gave up even when it seemed that other people had. And years later you're in love with music again. :)





Isis101
Isis101
04:05 Jun 30 2014

While I don't know you really well, from our conversations, I felt that you were a combination of a delicate flower and a bar of steel.

After reading this, I was right!

*hugs*





NLW
NLW
04:40 Jun 30 2014

Thank you both! *hugs*





 

00:36 Jun 16 2014
Times Read: 587


It's been about thirty-three years since my dad died. His dad- the grandfather who, along with my grandmother, raised me from the time I was 10, has been gone about twenty-five years.



Happy Father's Day.


COMMENTS

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Isis101
Isis101
01:56 Jun 16 2014

:(






lordess
lordess
02:09 Jun 16 2014

I'm sorry, too. I don't know if you believe in this, but I am sure all these people are out there, looking out for you.



*hugz*





NLW
NLW
03:23 Jun 16 2014

Thanks to you both. It's okay. I don't normally think about it. It's just on my mind this time.





 

14:43 Jun 13 2014
Times Read: 626


I guess Lordess deleted today. She left me honor, so I wanted to give her some, the system said there is no such user. That makes me sad. I really enjoyed talking to her. She is smart and funny, and even though she thought otherwise, beautiful.



I'll miss her. I'm sure other people will too.



Good luck to you, Lordess, I hope you find what you're looking for.


COMMENTS

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Vladvampirelord
Vladvampirelord
16:57 Jun 13 2014

You will not find much smart, funny, and beautiful on VR. But keep looking. I do. Kinda like looking for a rose in the desert.





deathnitegrl
deathnitegrl
20:39 Jun 13 2014

I'll miss her too, we had a lot in common.





Isis101
Isis101
20:52 Jun 13 2014

I tried to leave her honor as well, and say hi. (She also left me honor).

What a bummer. She was an awesome addition to this site. I'm hoping that she comes back to us!





NLW
NLW
00:47 Jun 14 2014

I hope so too. Her journal still exists. It's like her ghost is still here.








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