The Anniversary

A Bond Unbroken.

This was Kim’s birthday, 2015. They came home around 3am and everyone except Eron was drunk. He told me he loved me and I was his favorite child (duh, I was). This is the night we danced… I was embarrassed to dance with him and Anna said “just do it. When he’s gone, these are the moments you’ll remember.” A year, 4 months, and 8 days later, her words would prove to be true.

Have you ever heard anyone say that something was “heavy on their heart”? Have you ever said that yourself? For me, the answer is yes to both. I used to hear people say that and not really know what they meant. I used to say that simply to get my point across but not completely understand the weight of the words I was speaking. I learned what it meant to have something be heavy on your heart in my second semester of my first year of college.

You see, the thing about grief is that there is no manual. People know that there are stages, and they know that at one point or another you’ll experience them all, sometimes you’ll experience different stages multiple times. They know that the first year, across the board, is always the hardest. What they can’t predict is when in the first year that grief will hit you.

I learned that for something to be “heavy on the heart” is not just a figure of speech. That is a very real (and very scary) phenomenon. Having emotion simmer inside of you until it comes to a boiling point is virtually indescribable (but I’ll try). It’s almost like having multiple textbooks stacked on top of your chest, to the point where your breathing is constricted. Everyday tasks that usually don’t bother you, like bending down to pick something up, leave you winded. Any type of physical activity, including walking upstairs, pulls at your muscles and induces sharp pains.

I thought I was dying.. I had an EKG and chest scan ran on me to figure out what was going on. Big surprise: nothing was physically wrong with me. This was my body’s way of letting me know it was beyond time to grieve, and do so intentionally. Our mind is a powerful resource. While something being “heavy on the heart”, in my experience, is not real in the sense of locating a tangible source, it is as real as it gets in the sense of manifestations.

I’ve been dreading this day for an entire year. Who knew it was going to come so soon…

A year ago today I lost my father to a motorcycle accident.

When I say that to people, I’m almost certain they get this very grotesque and dramatic image in their minds. The average person is going to hear motorcycle accident and assume that the scene was in complete disarray like something off of an action movie. Well, accidents like those DO happen in real life. My dad witnessed a few himself. However, his wasn’t like that. I wasn’t there, but based on the police report and the scene, it was nothing like the dramatized accidents we see on TV. His accident was something he should have been able to get up and walk away from with minor injuries, if any. But he didn’t. He’s never going to walk in the flesh again…

I remember that day more clearly and accurately than I remember yesterday. It’s true what they say about the bad/traumatic things standing out in your mind more than the good things. I can’t imagine that there will be a day when I don’t remember. It was the day my life changed forever.

I won’t go into all of the details of the chain of events here.. That’s not what this is for. But I will say that I knew before I was told just like I’m convinced he knew it was coming before it happened.

Instead, I’m going to post here what I said at his funeral because to this day, honoring his memory is what matters most.

“For the last few days I’ve been thinking about what I should say… I guess I just never thought this would happen. In my mind, my dad was Superman and he’d live forever. But, he’d always say that when it was his time, it was his time. I’m trying to find comfort in his belief and I hope you all will do the same.

Life with my dad was an adventure. He always had something in mind for us to do. We were that family who’d drive an hour away to eat pizza then turn around and come right back home. We watched movies together, laughed together, danced at 4am together (one of my fondest memories), and had conversations together.

About 2 years ago (3, now) he showed me a poem he had written. The poem was about him having 9 lives and the way he used each one. He didn’t live any of them perfectly, but the point is he lived.

He was an amazing man, one of my best friends, and I’m so grateful that I got to bond with him. I’ll wear his smile everywhere I go.”

Daddy, some days it’s a lot harder than others but I didn’t lie. I’m still smiling. I’m still carrying on.


Wiping My Social Media Clean

Well… It’s 12:17am on a Wednesday morning (technically speaking) and I’m deleting all of my old tweets.

I’ve been on a Twitter hiatus for a little over a month now. I decided before I even left school that I needed to take a break from it because it consumed my life in a very unhealthy way. Don’t get me wrong, Twitter has introduced me to a number of people and concepts I probably wouldn’t have otherwise known but at this stage in my life, I don’t need it and I barely want it.

The reasoning behind this is quite simple: my growth game is strong. I am not the same girl that left college mid-May, completely unsure of what the summer would hold. I am coming in to so many realizations, living such a present life, taking my healing process so seriously and doing just that in the most graceful manner I can possibly muster at this time. Due to those factors, I no longer want to be represented in the way that up until now, my Twitter has represented me.

I’ve heard before that I have a Twitter personality and then I have my actual personality. I finally know what they were talking about.

I decided that I would search my Twitter handle with particular words following it, just to see what my tweets were looking like, because to be completely transparent, I said so much on Twitter that I cannot even begin to imagine what all is out there. That Twitter page has been active for at least 4 years, possibly longer. Needless to say, I was not pleased with what I saw. I have undergone so many changes in such a short period of time that I do not recognize the person that was saying those things.

The most unfortunate part of change is that, as Katy Perry said in her session with Dr. Siri Sat Nam Singh, people tend to want you to be a sort of time capsule. Whether in a good or bad way, people have this unrealistic expectation that we are who we’ve always been. We are held accountable for things we said when we were in middle or high school even after we’ve begun or even graduated from college and while that is fair on one hand, on the other it completely disregards the fact that we are learning, growing and changing every single day. I am no longer the person who believed those things to be true, so why am I being crucified for it?

All of that being said, it was high passed time to do a clean sweep. 34K tweets of pure foolery, anger, sadness, inappropriate jokes and confessions: GONE.

I don’t feel like I’m running from the past or that I’m trying to hide anything.. Everyone (or most people) know that once something is on the Internet, it’s there forever and absolutely can be found with the proper tools even if it has been deleted. I’m simply removing all of that from the forefront of my profile. I don’t feel the need to be portraying myself as anything other than who I am anymore. Old habits die hard but just like in a break up, the first step to moving forward is getting rid of any and everything that represents what once was.

Why don’t I delete everything old from my other social media accounts? Well, because they’re different. Instagram is full of old pictures, some I don’t have on my phone or in my google photos anymore. I think it’s nice to be able to scroll down and see the evolution of my face, my photo taking abilities, my captions, and even the comments people make or have made. Snapchat deletes everything by itself (amen!!). Twitter served the same purpose that this blog is serving but in a much less productive way.

Moral of the story is: The more I grow the more I realize that how I display myself and my values to the world is important… My name is important (as is what’s attached to it).

A Father’s Day Without A Father

Today is my first ever Father’s Day without my Father.

I don’t mean “my dad is on vacation so we didn’t get to spend the day together”. I mean “my dad is no longer alive so today, and every other Father’s Day to come will be spent alone”… that’s a hard pill to swallow.

I’m not the first person on Earth to lose a parent and experience a holiday that is supposed to be dedicated to them without them but this is my first time and needless to say, it was not a fun day nor did I feel at ease at any point.

The thing is, when you have a living parent to celebrate, whether they are right next to you or not, it is a completely different experience than them being gone. It’s kinda like making plans with your significant other for Valentine’s Day, buying gifts, and then they break up with you the day before. Obviously it’s not quite the same, but that’s the only level of sadness/anger/bitterness/heartbreak I feel confident about relating it to.

It was almost like an inherent sadness. I didn’t have to consciously consider the fact that today was Father’s Day in order to be sad about it. I tossed and turned all night, despite having taken my melatonin, and I woke up at 7am in physical pain, feeling miserable, and having the overwhelming urge to cry for no apparent reason. It didn’t occur to me why I was in such a funk out of the blue, following almost an entire week of good days, until my girlfriend texted me some encouraging words about how I could conquer the day. Then I knew… I had begun my first ever Father’s Day without my father, five short days before the anniversary of his passing, and I was openly grieving for the first time in months. I can only imagine how the anniversary itself is going to go.

I was told that it would probably be best to stay off of social media today, and of course I didn’t. Each picture of a person with their father gave me the sensation of a papercut: quick, but painful. I can’t censor the world, but it would be nice if I could. It’s really hard seeing other people be happy with their dad’s when I can no longer be happy in the flesh with mine. It’s something people will never be sensitive to until they’re experiencing it.. I for sure wasn’t until I was put in this position. I mean, I wouldn’t wish what I’m dealing with on anyone. This isn’t something that I hope anyone else ever feels or has to be sensitive to due to their experiences, but it’s hard to not be angry or bitter or sad or feel like something has been taken from you.

I believe I was working last Father’s Day.. and all my dad wanted was some wings and to be able to watch his sports game in peace. I can’t remember if he got his wings, if he was able to watch his game, or if I even spent time with him that day. If I could do it all over again, I would’ve made making that memory last a priority.

The Golden Rule of Change: 7, 11, and 18.

I was watching The Therapist with my mom one day and I learned something that has never been brought to my attention before. I was so moved by what I had heard that I decided to write it in the notes of my phone and take it into consideration in regards to how far I have come and where I intend to go with the rest of my life.

Dr. Siri Sat Nam Singh said that our life is a series of cycles: 7, 11, and 18. Every 7 years our consciousness changes. Every 11 years our intelligence changes. Every 18 years our entire life changes. The thing about these cycles is that whatever we were doing prior to the mark of the change will no longer suffice.

I get that this can be a little weird or difficult to wrap your head around and truthfully being that I’m only 19 I cannot attest to too many of these cyclic changes, but I can attest to a few.

So, within 19 years I should have undergone two shifts of consciousness, one shift of intelligence, and one shift of my entire life. I’m going to explore these shifts in this post and my memory is a bit out of whack so bare with me.

Cyclic changes of consciousness

Based on my math skills and the information that Dr. Siri Sat Nam Singh provided, I had a shift in consciousness at 7 years old and again at 14 years old. As I reflect on my childhood, I truthfully have no idea what was going on when I was 7 years old. I mean, I was definitely in 1st grade when I turned 7. However, beyond that my memory does not serve me very well. Now, I was in 8th grade when I turned 14. In my 14th year of life a lot of things changed and I can say with complete confidence that it was absolutely a result of my state of mind. I was older so I began to understand things that I did not understand before. I was exposed to realities that had been kept hidden from me. I went to high school! High school, in my opinion, is much more about developing social skills and slowly but surely gaining independence and responsibility for your own actions than it is about education. Frankly, the education in high school is subpar anyway but that’s another topic for another day and another website, lol. So yes, I can say that my consciousness shifted when I was 14. It shifted in regards to who I was on the road to becoming, who I really wanted to be and the world around me.

Cyclic changes of intelligence

I have only undergone one shift of intelligence thus far. I was in fifth grade, living in New York City, when I turned 11. I have been book smart my entire life. Academics is something that comes very naturally to me. I never had to study until I got to college. I can say though, that my intelligence in regards to street smarts shifted around this time. My mom had to begin giving me lessons about city living that I did not know, having previously been exposed nearly exclusively to suburban life. I also got accepted into a top charter school in NYC that year after having not learned anything in school for a whole year and a half. I can see little things that lead me to believe that the shift of intelligence took place, but I’m sure it will be much more dramatic when I turn 22 so let’s wait patiently for that one.

Cyclic changes of.. Life

I have also undergone only one entire life shift and this one, for absolute certain, happened. Turning 18 is a huge deal whether you’re aware of any type of cyclic change or not. It signals the beginning of lawful adulthood, and there is no turning back. If you’re not ahead or behind, you graduate high school in your 18th year of life and have to make major decisions regarding your future. Will I go to college? Will I join the workforce? Will I join the military? Will I take a year off because I need more time to figure out what I’m going to do? This shift, I can say from experience, changes your life in the most abrupt way if for no other reason than because all of a sudden you are technically an adult and now, while people can help you, no one can do anything for you anymore. It’s all you. You’re essentially on your own if anything happens. I personally think the system is janky in that regard. Who’s prepared for adulting simply because they’ve turned 18? I surely was not and yet there I was, four months after I turned 18, dealing with the death of my father and being named his legal next of kin.

I was told during the second semester of my freshmen year of college by an Alumna I had met during the parting ceremony months earlier, that I was having such a hard time because my beginnings and endings were colliding. I wonder if she has ever heard of these cyclic changes… My entire life was changing anyway, right on schedule. The chapter of childhood would forever be closed. An ending. I was getting prepared to go to college and start a life away from home. A beginning. My father passed away. An ending. That was an ending for him and everyone else affected by losing him. The collision occurred because the endings were outweighing the beginnings (at least according to the frame of mind I was in/am still in).

I hope that anyone reading this can see the signs of shifts in their own life, prompt and uninterrupted. The only thing we can count on happening without a doubt is change. The trick is to not go insane thinking that we can handle things the same way we’ve been handling them. If he is right, it won’t work anymore. Adjustments have to be made. So, let’s all make them. Let’s grow through what we’re going through and not be afraid to make a mess while we’re cleaning out the closet.

Why We’re All Here…

I realize that “Staple Me Unstable” is a very interesting (and possibly alarming) name for a blog. Well… I am an interesting person.

The truth is I have been wanting to begin a new blog (yes, I had one years ago) and this name has been stuck in my head since the idea came to mind. I figured that if this single idea, among many others that came and went, never wavered as time and space kept shifting around me, it was high time I acted on it.

Reading and writing are truly my first loves. I have been in love with books since I was about 3 years old, when I memorized Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss and tricked my family into believing I could read. I have been in love with writing since I discovered the healing powers it possessed in middle school.

We’re here because at some point, a point yet to be identified, I lost my way. I stopped reading for pleasure, I stopped writing to release my bottled up emotions, I stopped feeling at all, and I went into autopilot. I’ve spent the last four or five years of my life mostly in autopilot, seldom expressing any genuine emotion aside from anger. That, my good people, is why we are here.

I intend to treat this almost like my virtual diary. I want this to be a place where I can express anything I choose to express in hopes that it will help someone. Truthfully, even if no one else is helped, that’s okay because I’ll be helped. I am confident that I will benefit from expressing all that I am so openly. I wish I had a specific breakdown of what to expect, but I don’t. This blog is a moving target, for lack of a better expression. It will directly reflect the state of my being and that can be quite difficult to accurately explain.