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The Art of Loss and Life

Life is all about balance, right?

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The Art of Loss and Life

The beautiful thing about life is the fact that there is always a light to be found to brighten up the darkness. I have always turned to writing to express myself. For as long as I can remember, it has been my outlet when I cannot find the words to speak. So, here I am (again), trying to make sense of the mess that we call life.

This past year has been difficult for many of us. COVID-19 swooped in and turned pretty much the entire world upside down and inside out. For me, this year has been one of the most difficult yet. I have lived a very privileged life, and for that I am incredibly grateful. With that being said, it doesn't mean that my life has been perfect and filled with butterflies and rainbows. This year has brought more pain than I ever found imaginable but has also shown me some beautiful things. So, let's rewind…

In January, I started off the new year optimistic and excited. I was able to go to Washington, D.C. to visit my brother who was stationed there for the Air Force. I drove up with my best friend and met my dad there as well. We all went to a hockey game and enjoyed the time watching our team lose. At least we were with each other, right?

In February, my brother conquered another lap around the sun! We celebrated him and the awkward age that is 19… because let's be honest… what is there to celebrate about 19? It's like "congratulations on surviving another year, but you're still a teenager and there's nothing cool that you can do this year!"

Also, in February, my family came line dancing with me. This is a weekly event for my friends and I, but I somehow managed to drag my entire family out. We were joined by my (somewhat) chosen family as well-- my two best friends who have always been considered brothers. Walsh and Jared have been my home away from home for quite some time now. The two of them have been by my side through some of my most challenging obstacles, but also some of my proudest times. They have watched me graduate high school and wiped my tears after a breakup. They have beat me up like brothers and protected me from people and situations that they knew were toxic. They have held me when I was crying and my heart was broken, and in return I have done the same (they won't admit that though).

The three of us have been through what feels like fifty phases of life together. We came together in a time of chaos when none of us had much responsibility in life yet. In my opinion, the three of us fit together perfectly. These two people were the missing pieces for friendships that I searched for for a long time. We did some incredibly stupid things together that could have ended in serious injury, but instead they always just ended in laughs. Over the years, we have laughed together so many times. I'm talking good laughs, like laughs that make your stomach hurt and your eyes water.

Life is crazy sometimes and being adults was something that we quickly realized was not fun. We didn't get together as often as we had liked, but when we did it was as if no time had passed. I will remember this night so clearly for the rest of my life. As we stood by the pool tables laughing about old stories and reliving old memories, I wish I could have hit pause and told myself to really take it in. Walsh looked at me and asked, "if we could do it all over again knowing we would make it to where we are today, would you?" Without hesitation I said yes. I would absolutely do it a million times over if it meant reliving our memories. So, we turned to Jared and asked the same thing. Also, without hesitation he said yes. We went on to talk about how crazy life was. We were all walking into the next phase in our life. We were optimistic to get married and start families. We were ready to dance at each other's weddings and be each other's children's fun aunt and uncles. At the end of the night, we gave hugs and said our goodbyes and went on our ways. I remember watching us all walk in our different directions and thinking "damn, I really got something right with these two". Little did I know, that would be the last time I got to hug Jared.

In March, I turned 21. This is something that I have looked forward to for years. I am not much of a "drinker", in fact, I really hate the taste of alcohol. For me, 21 meant being able to legally get into the bars with my friends to be the mom that I am. Luckily, my birthday fell right before all of the shutdowns and pandemonium ensued. I was surrounded by family and friends and it was truly a special birthday. The day after my birthday, my boyfriend and I went to Pittsburgh to watch the Caps take on the Penguins and spend the weekend there. Looking back now, March was the last normal month that I remember.

April started with the COVID-19 lockdowns. Everything started to shut down, and it became difficult to see friends and family. I remember thinking how much all of this sucked. Come the end of the month, we remembered the life of Dylan Ballard and recognized four years without him. That day, I took to Twitter and posted this tweet:



Three days later, I woke up to a call at 12:30 in the morning. My boyfriend woke me up and told me that my dad was on the phone. I had missed three calls from Walsh and three calls from my dad, so my dad called my boyfriends phone. I answered and asked what was wrong, and he told me I needed to call Walsh back right away. So, I picked up my phone and called Walsh back. I could tell something was wrong, but I wasn't sure what it was yet. I honestly couldn't tell you what Walsh said, but I remember thinking it was a joke. I could hear the pain in his voice as he told me "Jared is dead". I hung up the phone and immediately texted Jared. I told him to please reply and tell me that this was a bad joke. I called him and begged him to call me back, but he never did.

The next day, my parents and I went to the tree where the accident happened. I remember stepping out of the car and immediately feeling physically ill. The scene still smelled like fire and there were bits and pieces of the truck still scattered. The sap on the tree was still crackling and dripping down. We stayed there for a while, talking to people and trying our hardest to piece together what had happened. At this point, there were still so many unanswered questions. Honestly, I was still praying that this was a joke or a mistake of some sort. I was praying for a phone call that Jared somehow, miraculously pulled through. I walked around, picking up pieces of the truck and things from within the truck that were now scattered on the ground. My white shoes were smudged with black all over them. Where Jared's side of the truck was positioned in the accident, I found single penny that was heads up. I took it home with me for good luck, hoping that somehow, that was Jared telling me that everything was going to be okay- that he was okay.

May began with a hole in my heart that I soon realized would never be filled again. My family and I went to the viewing for Jared on May 3rd. We met Walsh's family in the parking lot, and we all walked in together. I was fairly confident in my ability to maintain my composure, but I was pretty far off. We walked into the funeral home and were asked to sign the guest book. We rounded the corner to walk in and the first thing I saw was the television screen that had a slideshow of pictures playing. As soon as I saw Jared and his bubbly smile, I lost any and all composure that I may have had. I could feel my throat tightening up and I couldn't control the tears. My dad hugged me and told me everything was okay and that I could do it. We walked in and there he was. A closed casket with flowers on top. The entire life of such a beautiful soul tucked into that one wooden box. I hugged friends and tried my hardest to be strong the way that Jared would be telling me to if he were beside me. As I approached the casket, I felt numb and incredibly defeated. I gave Jared one last hug and a pat on the back and walked away.

The next day was his funeral and I wasn't quite sure what to expect. We met at the funeral home and my friend group walked in together. Inside, we met Jared's parents and tried to relax a bit before the service begun. The service was beautiful, and Jared would have adored it. With that, we loaded up into our cars and embarked on our last ride with our boy. Jared rode a few cars behind us, and we played his favorite songs. If he were in the car, he would have been head banging and dancing his little heart out, so we tried our best to do the same. It was really painful to hear the songs that Jared's singing often ruined, but more so to hear the silence that his awful singing normally filled. As we sat at the cemetery and watched dozens of people pay their love and respects to Jared's parents, it was bittersweet. Here we were, a group of friends who rarely come together all at once anymore; but here we were, missing one of our own.

Every month since May has felt so full of life yet so empty. I have tried to live my life doing things that Jared would have been doing. I have tried to remind myself that Jared would hate me crying and he would hate to see me upset. In fact, Jared would be laughing at me for crying and would be doing anything in his power to cheer me up.

Fast forward to August, and life just keeps on keeping on. I began my last semester of college with a full course load! This is both exciting and bitter sweet for me. For the past two and a half years I have been working as a nanny for an amazing family. The two kids that I have come to love and see every day are absolutely amazing. I truly lucked out with this family, as they have become exactly that-- family. As I start to conclude my college career and begin the search for a "big girl" job, it is truly starting to set in that I won't be seeing my babies everyday anymore. I can honestly say that these two have taught me so much about life through the eyes of innocence. They have claimed such a big part of my heart, and that is something they will always have.

Also in August, I decided to part ways with my boyfriend of nearly three years. This wasn't an easy decision-- in fact, it was one of, if not the most difficult decisions I have made in my life. This was a man who helped pull me out of a very questioning time in my life. He was someone who helped break down my walls and build me up. Our relationship was amazing for a long time, but there were small things that built up and turned into obstacles.

This was the person who I truly, whole-heartedly felt I was going to spend the rest of my life with. We had made the choice to start trying for a baby, and we were ready for that next phase of our relationship. For me, being a mother was always my biggest goal in life. When other kids were dreaming of being astronauts and doctors, I was dreaming of being a mommy. I have always wanted to be a younger mother, only so that I can experience the most life possible with my child(ren). So, for us, that decision was easy.

It wasn't until after we had made this decision that a flip switched for me. Nothing really happened that changed my mind about everything, it was just a realization that I woke up with one day. I realized that I haven't lived. I haven't seen the country and the world yet. I haven't experienced life enough, and I hadn't truly found myself. For the past three years, I hadn't been my own person. I felt like it wasn't fair to string someone along while I find myself in hopes that I can come back to them and give them what they deserve. If I can't give a person 100%, I can't continue to surround myself with them and their effort. It just doesn't seem fair to me.

This came as a shock to him as well as my family. I have never been the person to put myself first, and that has always been one of my fatal flaws. I care so passionately for others that I lose myself along the way. I don't like being responsible for other people's hurt so I allow myself to hurt instead. Unfortunately, it took breaking someone else's heart to heal my own. This is something that I am still coming to terms with. I feel extremely selfish every day that I am the constant cause of his pain at this point. It's an irrational thought, but I feel so guilty breaking the heart of someone who I was so madly in love with at one point—breaking the heart of someone who was still so in love with me.

Since then, I have been more content with life, but it has still been a struggle. I spoke to my doctor about how anxious I always was. I have been fairly certain that I have anxiety for some time now, but I have never spoken to my doctor to see if it is truly anxiety or just a self-diagnosis. I have a bad tendency of biting the skin on my fingers, inside of my mouth and the skin on my lips. I tend to worry about every little thing, even the things that nobody else remembers. I worry about the way I said a specific word last year when speaking to a friend and convince myself that person still thinks about it and that it bothered them.

I worry about how I am perceived and that maybe someone looks at me and sees me the way that I see myself. I am one of the most insecure people that you will ever meet. I hide it well by always trying to be the outgoing, excitable one. I can't look in the mirror without seeing everything about myself that I hate. My nose is too big, my teeth are too yellow, my skin is too pale. I hate my stomach and my shoulders, and I hate my boobs and my legs. I see the tiny bump on my forehead and the bruise on my arm. I look at myself and see every name that I have ever been called. I take a picture that looks good enough to post, but the demons in my head are reminding me that I am "annoying", "anorexic", "a whore" and "ugly".

There are days however, when I do wake up and feel beautiful. There are sometimes when I feel like I can conquer anything. There are also days when I wake up and wish that I could stay in bed all day. There are many days when I feel so numb, but I know I have things that need to be done. There are days when I feel like a robot, and I am just mentally not there. There are days that I feel a pit in my stomach and a hole in my heart, but I pick up my keys and my happy face on my way out the door and proceed with my day.

I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was in 8th grade. I was on a medication for it that caused me to lose an unhealthy amount of weight, so I just stopped looking for an alternative. Focus has always been something that I lack, but I never took the initiative to fix it. Last year, I made the decision to go get diagnosed and put on a new medication. This was a HUGE adjustment for me, but it was such a beneficial decision for my life.

I saw how much of a difference this made for me, so I finally decided to do the same about my anxious tendencies. I was diagnosed last month with anxiety and depression. I started a medication for it, but we will see with time how this new adjustment in my life goes. I have never been one to want to overload my body with chemicals and medications but avoiding has gotten me nowhere but deeper into my mental illnesses.

Quite honestly, this year has thrown a lot of curveballs at me; and it's not even over yet. I experienced true heartbreak multiple times and I felt pain at some of the most extreme depths. I cried more than I have ever cried. At times, I went to cry and was left with no tears left to cry. The heartbreaks I went through were the types of heartbreak that make it impossible to eat and leave you with constant nausea.

I experienced true anger and disgust. How do you claim to "miss someone" who was so easy for you to replace after a month? How do you "love someone" but ignore his family's pleas for his things back? I was put in such a terrible position with this because I felt like ignoring the situation was doing a disservice to my best friend but engaging in it was doing a disservice to myself and my own growth. I have never experienced the disgust and utter disrespect that some people inflict in a time of grief until this year. If anything good has come from losing Jared, it has been the relief that is knowing that he is finally free from a person who held him back from so much in life.

I also experienced true love and support. I reconnected with some of my closest friends in the wake of loss. I grew closer with Jared's parents and promised him I would see them as often as I could. I hugged so many people this year whose hugs unknowingly saved me in that moment. I was reminded that every "I love you" could be your last and that tomorrow is never promised. I also made dean's list every semester so far this year at my university and I am one semester from finishing my degree. My parents have reminded me so many times how proud of me they are, and that has been a constant reassurance that I am doing something right.

I have struggled with trying to put one foot in front of another to continue to move forward. I try and remember all that I have accomplished and all that I will continue to accomplish. I have such a bright future ahead of me that will be filled with friends and family. I am confident that I will find the love for my own skin that I desperately owe myself. I am excited to continue to experience life and all that it has to offer, and when I feel like I don't deserve something good, I will remind myself that I do.

I have realized that my life is full of things that I want to do. I want to do so many spontaneous and crazy things that Jared would have loved to do. I want to feel alive and take in every moment. I want to take the time to slow down and just breathe in the fresh air. Do you know why? Because I can-- because I am here, on this earth, alive and healthy and able to do it.

If you stuck through this and read all that I had to say, welcome to my crazy, dysfunctional life. I'm not sure where life has to take me from here, but I am optimistic for what it has in store for me. I hope that the next years in my life are filled with more happiness than there is pain and I hope that all of the pain I have felt this year has made me a stronger person. One thing that I have learned this year is that life is art. It is a canvas that we are given and expected to make beautiful. The crazy thing about art is that it doesn't always make sense. Sometimes, you have to squint one eye and tilt your head a little bit. Sometimes, you have to erase it and start over again. Life is art, but so is loss. They are two arts that no one will ever perfect, but it is certainly our mission to try our hardest. Aren't we all just trying to survive and put one foot in front of another? That my friends, is the true art of loss and life.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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