And so she woke up
Woke up from where she was lyin’ still
Said I gotta do something
About where we're goin’
-U2, “Running to Stand Still” from The Joshua Tree, 1987

trigger warning: discussion of suicidal thoughts

Hello y’all,

At last, spring (and my spring break) is upon us. In Virginia, we have arrived in the awkward inbetween phase of third winter and the pollening, even though just last week, we were maintaining highs in the 80s. I wonder, truly, how my spring break weather will be. I’ve booked two days to go to the local tulip farm so I can frolic in a sundress amongst the beautiful blooms with a couple of my friends…so I’m hoping it will be actual spring/sundress season when it gets closer to my visit. Thanks to the warmer (if inconsistent) weather, I feel my endorphins improving and my seasonal depression fading away.

I’m grateful for the latter…because my seasonal depression was the worst it had ever been this past winter. When it was combined with the stress at work, my own personal problems (yet another rear-end collision…seriously, I cannot stand driving in the DMV, and of course, another failed romantic endeavor), and more hormonal imbalances…I was at my lowest, emotionally, and in November, the thought to end my life crossed my mind.

Thank God for a late menstrual arrival, literally, the following morning after I cried myself to sleep once I finished talking on the phone to my mother and reciting prayer after prayer to help diminish my thoughts of suicide. My emotions had snowballed due to it being late, so the next day, my mind was more at ease. I must also thank my amazing therapist who helped me process that scary and eye-opening evening. I haven’t come close to having that thought intrude my mind again since November, but I’m also aware that I need to seek a psychiatrist so I can get a referral/prescription for a mood stabilizer.

Since then, I’ve kept myself distracted. I have stayed busy with grading all the Social Studies assignments (we just wrapped up World War II and the Holocaust), finishing my semester’s work for my teaching cohort (hello once again, George Mason), going to Social Studies professional developments (last week, I got to go to Richmond to attend the Virginia Council for Social Studies conference at the Virginia Museum of History and Culture), applying for summer school (I got the job; I’ll be teaching English 10 with my best friend Cymone), interviewing for high school teaching positions (no luck there), going to church while keeping up with my Lenten sacrifices/prayers, and of course, maintaining friendships with the people who truly do value me. I’ve got a Richmond weekend planned with Breanna after spring break, Cymone and I are planning to have lunch during spring break, my high school bestie Jessica is back in the DMV, so we’ve been going for regular nail and shopping dates, and Lisa and I still see each other/goof off at work.

Of course, I have to admit, my former friend and his daughter still cross my mind every day. It’s been almost eight months since I cut them out of my life and part of me still hopes they’d come back. I wish they didn’t live rent-free in my mind, but I can’t pull an “Eternal Sunshine” and wake up like Clementine did one day with lacunar amnesia (trust me, I so wish I could).

I’ll look at my phone and pray that he’s sent me a text message, asking me for forgiveness, only to see no new notifications. Then the thought of reaching out to him will come to me, but my resolve has remained strong, and I haven’t said a word. I won’t say a word. I don’t need him to be nasty and accuse me of still having feelings for him. Like I said in a previous post, I was in love with him the moment we met. He wasn’t even in like with me. Those feelings, as much as I thought had disappeared during our so-called friendship, only resurfaced as I witnessed him be a wonderful father to his amazing daughter and wish I’d gotten the chance to be more, both to him and her. I want the feelings to go away, but it has been difficult for this to happen, especially when I’m the one who fell hard for him.

He will never, even if it was spelled out clearly for him, understand how awful it has been to rid myself of any lingering feelings.

At the end of the day, I want him to be happy. I could never make him happy.

And he would never want to make me happy.

I’ve realized - I would have gone to the ends of the earth for him (and his daughter) and given up my entire livelihood…my singleness, my ability to go wherever I want at the drop of a hat, to do whatever pleases me at any time of the day, my additional income due to being a cat mom and not a human mom…just to have him call me his.

I let his psychotic ex-girlfriend humiliate me with her stupid, invasive photo message…I watched as he decided to return to her and give HER a second chance (and find out later that she almost got him into some trouble) instead taking a chance on me and my willingness to do and give anything to make him happy.

When he was focused on our friendship, he was amazing, but that was only possible on his end when he wasn’t actively dating anyone.

And after this summer, and his inability to put our friendship first and apologize for hurting me, it finally hit me that yes, the feelings resurfaced, and it is 100% impossible for exes (although I use that term loosely with him) to be friends. Not when he has that much lingering emotional baggage that he continues to carry.

I know his daughter is getting ready to end her last year of elementary school. How exciting and nervous she must be feeling as she completes her final weeks with her friends all while beginning to prepare for a new chapter of her life! I’m sure she’s looking forward to the end of year events her school has planned for the 5th graders, but I’m also sure she’s probably overwhelmed by the fact that she’s essentially a middle schooler now and her life is changing by the second.

How I wish I was there for her right now, but I’m sure her father has her back. At least I I pray he does. I know he’s happy that he’s dating again, or whatever, but I hope that he is putting his daughter first, especially at such a critical time in her life. I miss her more than I can say, but then I realize, she’s not my daughter. I don’t and shouldn’t have to worry about her anymore, as horrible as that sounds. I remember his promise to me that I’d always have a chance to be in their lives…but that was contingent on him treating me like a last resort.

I would have done anything for her, obviously, but not at the expense of her father’s continued emotional damage and warfare to my psyche. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell him that he wasn’t perfect or how many times I apologize for how I manage to mess up…he will never admit that he too, has caused me pain. Until that can happen, then no, we can never be anything again, not even friends. If he ever had the realization that he hurt me…and owned the hurt…then, and only then, might I have hope that exes can actually be friends.

Motherhood has passed me by year after year since I started adulting and I keep thinking I will never have the chance to be a mother. It has become easier, birthday after birthday, to tell myself that maybe I don’t want to have children anymore. Twenty-something year old me would be calling me an idiot for thinking this…but twenty-something year old me was optimistic that her soulmate was out there, ready to love her, put her first, marry, and start a family with her.

Thirty-three trips around the sun, and there is yet no soulmate. I thought he was my soulmate. Part of me still does, because no one has quite awakened my heart the way he did. So I’ll continue to live out my singlehood in the hopes that my true soulmate is out there, ready to fulfill all the things my naive twenty-something self dreamed of when she was getting ready to finish her college education, find a job, and settle down.

I’ve been listening lately (on repeat) to U2’s seminal landmark album, The Joshua Tree (1987). One of my favorite songs, “In God’s Country” is a joy to have on blast in the car as I cruise down the road with the windows open and the fresh spring air and sunshine enveloping my still winter-pale skin. Listening to that song influenced me to go to the start of the album and boy, I’m glad I did. I forgot how beautiful and cinematic The Joshua Tree is when you hear it in its entirety. From the epic “Where the Streets Have No Name” to the underrated “One Tree Hill” to the perfect ending of “Exit” and “Mothers of the Disappeared,” this album has helped me start my commute to work, after I finish praying my rosary, on a more joyous and optimistic note.

It’s the fifth song - “Running to Stand Still” that has resonated with me most out of the entire track listing. Don’t get me wrong, “In God’s Country” and “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” are my favorite songs from that album (“Bullet the Blue Sky” deserves an honorable mention). And yes, I know that “Running” is supposed to be from the perspective of a woman who is a heroin addict…but the title of the song was a phrase that Bono, the lead singer, got from his brother. He asked his brother how his struggling business was going, and the brother responded with: "It's like running to stand still.”

And so the song title was born, but again, it and any lyrical references have nothing to do with a struggling business.

I feel that the phrase perfectly describes where I am in my life right now (hence the title inspiration of this post). I am craving a moment’s peace, stability, and a chance to come up for air. I’m, however, overwhelmed with many things to accomplish, especially as I power through the last quarter of this school year. This is always the most stressful time for a teacher, but summer break is on the horizon. Just a few more weeks! Right now, all I want to do is rest and try to go to sleep early, even on the weekends, just so that way I can have enough energy to finish the last days remaining in the school year. I know I’m far from being a desirable dating candidate with my lack of beauty prep (I haven’t worn makeup or a dress to school in months) and my unwillingness to socialize past 7 PM. I’m perfectly fine with being on “survival mode” until June arrives and I’m free.

But for now, seeing as I’ve been granted a “pause” with spring break, I’ll gladly stand still and get a little rest and recharge, if only for a moment, before I have to run once more to make it to a hopefully restful summer.

Many happy returns…

-kate.

P.S. if you’re ever in a mental crisis, reach out to https://988lifeline.org. You’re not alone.

Dear Grandma,

It has been ten years to this day since I lost you. That this family lost you. There has not been a day that I don’t think of you over these past ten years; that you’re not a part of my daily thoughts. As my life goes on, I will only continue to think of you.

I still vividly remember the day I found out you had passed. I had just started my first semester of grad school, I was working two jobs to pay my tuition, desperate to not take out any student loans. I was also trying to pocket some extra money to visit you in Laredo during Spring Break. I was exhausted and the school term had just started.

I went to work at Wegmans that day, a 5 AM shift in the bakery, and was hopeful that when I got home, after a relaxing shower, would be able rest for a little while before tackling some assigned reading for class. I was home by 2 PM…only to find my mamá’s car in the driveway when I arrived at the house. That was an unusual sight.

My mamá, who was not yet retired, was home early from work. She was never home early when she was teaching. She never took days off. Her school day ended at 4:15!

I had an inkling as to why she was already home. I knew you had been sick. I knew you hadn’t been doing well. I didn’t think your illness would last long; that you would be fine, you would bounce back, and we would visit you in Laredo eventually. My inkling was proven correct when I walked out onto the deck. My parents were seated there; my mamá’s eyes bloodshot, her face fallen and ashen, and that’s when I knew. She didn’t have to say a word as I wrapped her in a hug, letting her blouse absorb my own wave of tears.

I knew you were gone.

We flew to Laredo to say our goodbyes. All your children and grandchildren were there for one final moment with you, our matriarch…the tender heart of the family. You had a beautiful Catholic funeral mass and were buried, as promised, right beside grandpa. “Together Forever,” as it always said on your shared tombstone.

I think of the way that you loved. The way you showed love in this world. I knew you never had much financially. Mamá always said how the family struggled with money when she was growing up. You and grandpa worked hard to put a roof over the heads of your children, to feed them, and to put them through college if they wished…because you valued education so much. There wasn’t, however, room for little luxuries. But having money and material things didn’t matter. All the love you showed your children…the love you showed me…in my twenty two years of knowing you…

I never needed you to buy me anything fancy to prove you loved me. All I ever needed from you was your smile, your laughter, and your ability to turn my worst day into the best. All I needed was your perfect Mexican cooking, and your amazing flour tortillas - you should know that mamá has mastered the recipe now. All I needed was a hearty bowl of your caldo de pollo to feel better during a bad cold…I’ve learned to make it myself so I can be reminded of you in every way possible.

You were like St. Thérèse of Lisieux, the “Little Flower,” showing love in your own “little way” every single day you lived. It was because of you that I learned how to love with all my heart; how to show love, how to give love…how to be kind to others, even if they aren’t so kind to me. And I’m not saying I’m perfect, but even mamá tells me that while I have a giving heart, sometimes I show too much love to the people I want to be loved by in return. When I realize that they don’t love me (especially when it comes to romantic pursuits), my heart, then, is the one that is broken, and that heartbreak is magnified due to the effort I put in trying to prove that I was worthy of someone’s love.

How I wish I had a love right now like you and grandpa did. How I wish I could find that someone that I could be “together forever” with like you and grandpa are now in heaven. And I’ve tried, grandma. I’ve tried being like you and showing my love through my own “little way.” By being thoughtful, by always looking out for the other person, by knowing them, by learning them. I know that you would have wanted me to find the right person to live this life with, but unfortunately, as you can probably see while you watch over me, this has not happened. There are days where I doubt my kindnesses, there are days where I ask myself…why even bother trying to prove I have a kind heart? Why try, over and over again, showing up for someone I want to be loved by…when I haven’t had someone, ever, try to show up for me?

Today's temporary Facebook profile picture

But then I remember all the sacrifices you’ve made, and I know in the end, that all you want for me is to be happy. There doesn’t have to be another person in my life to make me happy, as long as I take care of myself, as long as I am safe and loved…I know that is truly what you want for me. Thank you for showing me how to love. Thank you for reminding me that it is better to give love than to be nasty, cold, and bitter. Thank you for teaching me how to be kind. Thank you for encouraging me every day to give my best to my students and teach them how important it is to learn. Mamá always said how you wanted to continue your education, but you couldn’t because you had to help out at home after you graduated high school. You, however, didn’t let your inability to go to college make you jealous or resentful of others who could. You let your own children choose their path in this life, you promised them a college career, and in the end, your two daughters became teachers. My brother, your grandson, became a middle school band director. He doesn’t do it anymore, but he enjoyed it while he could before COVID destroyed his passion…

…And me, still teaching American history to a bunch of chatty, hormonal seventh graders. As challenging as it’s been with COVID these past few years, grandma…as much as I’ve doubted myself and my future as a teacher, it’s because of you that I keep going. I want to give my students all the appreciation you had for education and learning. I’ve had my rough years; it has been a difficult time, but in the end, you motivate me to not give up on these kids…to help them learn what it is to listen, learn, to want to gain an education, and that there is more to life than video games, sports, and being an influencer. The important factor for them to have a successful start in life is a solid school career…and a teacher who wants to actually teach them.

September 19th is the hardest day of the year for me. It will always be the hardest day of my year. Today, I completed the same routine I always do when September 19th arrives. I kept to myself, I thought of you, I dedicated my daily rosary to you, I changed my Facebook profile picture to my favorite one of us for the day, and I got ice cream in honor of you and how you were always willing to treat your grandchildren to a cone or milkshake. After school, I made a Target run, and then went to Five Guys and ordered a milkshake - this is the only place where it is acceptable to add bacon to your ice cream. I happily sipped my milkshake on my drive home as I streamed a Beatles playlist on Spotify, because you loved their songs so much. All my moments today were intentionally for you.

But please remember that every day, you’re in my mind. Every day, I pray for you. Every day, I look at those four words tattooed on my forearm; those four words you’d call out to me as I waved goodbye to you from the car at the end of every visit:

Que le vaya bien.

That all will be well.

And I know that all is well for you right now in heaven; I’m so relieved to know you’re at rest and in eternal paradise. I know that you are making sure that all is still well for me...my God sent guardian angel, protecting and watching over me on this earth. You have always been my guardian angel; I knew I was safe with you in your care when you were alive. God blessed me by giving someone so kind and sweet as you to be my grandmother. He knew what he was doing by giving you to guide me in this life. No matter how old I get, I could never forget you and all the ways you showed me how to love unconditionally, without anything expected in return - as difficult as that can be sometimes.

I’m glad you’re not suffering anymore. I can clearly envision you right now on some comfortable cloud in the sky, eating all the ice cream in the world, laughing and smiling beautifully, with grandpa at your side. Please say hi to him for me.

All will be well, thanks to you.

Love always,

Kate

she's running to stand still

que le vaya bien.