all the bright places

all the bright places
jennifer niven
ya/contemporary
knopf publishing
published 2015

Theodore Finch is fascinated by death, and he constantly thinks of ways he might kill himself.  But each time, something good, no matter how small, stops him.  Violet Markey lives for the future, counting the days until graduation, when she can escape her Indiana town and her aching grief in the wake of her sister's recent death.

When Finch and Violet meet on the ledge of the bell tower at school, it's unclear who saves whom.  And when they pair up on a project to discover the "natural wonders" of their state, both Finch and Violet make more important discoveries: It's only with Violet that Finch can be himself - a weird, funny, live-out-loud guy who's not such a freak after all.  And it's only with Finch that Violet can forget to count away the days and start living them.  But as Violet's world grows, Finch's begins to shrink.

There is not a lot I can say about this YA debut from Jennifer Niven.  It is a depressingly good representation of bipolar disorder and the feelings of being in love with someone who suffers from it.  Grief is a huge player in this book and while there are bright spots the book barrels towards the dark without apology.  I didn't cry, much because mostly I was frozen.  Tense and waiting to see what became of Violet and Finch.

One thing that really stuck with me in is how everyone in Finch's life (besides Violet) dismiss his behavior as 'that's just Finch'.  Part of this is a testament to how the few friends he has are kept at arm's length.  They don't know what's going on in his home life, they're not close with him.  Even as they disparage everyone around them in the end, they are not much different from the herd.  His sisters are both caretakers and dependent on him and it is in her love for her brother that Kate shoulders a lot of the responsibility.  Had she not fielded all the questions from school maybe things would be different?  But then you get to his parents.....his mother who is basically useless.  One of those people who only reacts when they feel like events are happening to them.  And his father, who plainly is just an asshole.

It is truly no wonder that Finch's mental health progresses as it does and it's heartbreaking to watch.

where'd you go bernadette

where'd you go bernadette
maria semple
fiction/contemporary
little brown & co.
published 2012

Bernadette Fox is notorious.  To her Microsoft-guru husband, she's a fearlessly opinionated partner; to fellow private-school mothers in Seattle, she's a disgrace; to design mavens, she's a revolutionary architect, and to 15-year-old Bee, she is a best friend and, simply, Mom.

Then Bernadette disappears.  It began when Bee aced her report card and claimed her promised reward: a family trip to Antarctica.  But Bernadette's intensifying allergy to Seattle - and people in general - has made her so agoraphobic that a virtual assistant in India now runs her most basic errands.  A trip to the end of the earth is problematic. 

To find her mother, Bee compiles email messages, official documents, secret correspondence - creating a compulsively readable and touching novel about misplaced genius and a mother and daughter's role in an absurd world.

Now, I can see how a lot of readers could find this novel inconceivable.  All of these things that happen seem to be out of the realm of normal possibility.  For starters, what 7th grader wants to go to Antarctica?  But really, if you wade through the craziness there are shining nuggets of truth, of real life.

Bernadette is truly suffering.  Reading the emails from Ollie-O (which is a ridiculous name) and the back and forths about what kinds of parents they want at the school it's no wonder Bernadette wants nothing to do with them.  And she tells her husband this, but he seems to just brush it off.  Mostly, I think, because it has nothing to do with his work.  She has this horrific neighbor who hates her because she doesn't know her.  The catty emails are enough to drive me insane.

The character that I just couldn't like was Elgin.  He spent their entire marriage ignoring Bernadette.  He worked ridiculous hours and immersed himself in his own genius.  When he finally begins to pay a bit of attention it's the end of the world.  At a time when he is supposed to be helping Bernadette he can talk of nothing more than how she is ruining his life.  How crazy she is.  He never once gives her a chance to speak or explain.  The only person who stood up for her was Bee.

I think that what this book really tried to say was how people have the ability to greatly harm or greatly help another person.  That sometimes we just have to stop being assholes and try to be human beings.

the perks of being a wallflower

the perks of being a wallflower
stephen chbosky
ya/drama/comedy/romance
demco books
published 1999

Standing on the fringes of life offers a unique perspective. But there comes a time to see what it looks like from the dance floor.

This is the story of what it's like to grow up in high school. More intimate than a diary, Charlie's letters are singular and unique, hilarious and devastating. We may not know where he lives. We may not know to whom he is writing. All we know is the world he shares. Caught between trying to live his life and trying to run from it puts him on a strange course through uncharted territory. The world of first dates and mixed tapes, family dramas and new friends. The world of sex, drugs, and The Rocky Horror Picture Show, when all one requires is that perfect song on that perfect drive to feel infinite.

Another one of those books that I've been meaning to read, but just never got around to it until finally, now and I'm kicking myself for waiting so long!

Charlie is starting his first year in high school.  For every teenager this is an uncertain, exciting, terrifying time and Charlie chooses to deal with it by writing letters anonymously to a person he heard was a good person.  Does that make sense?  He overheard two girls talking about this guy who could have taken advantage of a (possibly) drunk/passed out girl, but he didn't.  Charlie decides that a person like that is someone he can tell all of his secrets to, confide in and that person will keep his secrets.

So he begins by explaining why he's writing and delves into life as a high schooler on the fringes of everything.  He has no friends after his one friend in middle school commits suicide so he starts out his freshman year alone, but not for long.  In an uncharacteristic burst of daring Charlie says hi to a senior in his woodshop class at a football game.  Patrick and the beautiful Sam immediately take Charlie in.  I think about what a wonderful world this would be if everyone was like Sam & Patrick.  Friends just because.  Taking a kid under their wing and truly taking the time to appreciate him.

I've read a few reviews about how Charlie doesn't sound like a 15/16 year old kid.  His speech, his writing is immature.  At first I agreed.  The speech seemed too young, like a 10 or 11 year old.  But then I thought back to my writing when I was in high school, especially when I first started writing and it was probably similar.  We're so used to books & TV shows & movies where the kids talk like the age the actors actually are and not how actual teenagers really talk or write.  Not everyone is Hemmingway.  But also, well, Charlie is immature. 

I wasn't quite expecting the end.  It felt out of left field at first, but then I realized that he was leading up to this revelation from the beginning.  He'd been leading us to this place of honesty and pain and it explained so much.

And now it's over.  I want to gather this book up and hold it inside me forever.

lost at sea

lost at sea
bryan lee o'malley
graphics/ya
oni press
published 2002

Raleigh's soul was stolen when she was younger.  By a cat.  Or so she believes.  Now she's in a car with three almost strangers driving back to Canada from California.  Will this trip be what brings Raleigh out of her shell?  Will she even survive this trip?!

This was not like Scott Pilgrim at all!  At first I was a little bored.  Raleigh has a way of telling her story that makes it confusing, which I suppose is the point.  But the further along they get on their road trip the more she starts to fall apart and somehow everything starts to make sense. 

I loved Stephanie and how she tried to make friends without forcing the issue.  I loved how everyone embraced Raleigh's craziness.  And I loved how when it really started to meltdown Stephanie wouldn't let it.

I just wish I knew what was in the letter!

there are times

when you heart hurts and you don't know why and you can't think of a way to stop it.

there are times when everything feels so overwhelming that you don't know where to begin.

there are times when you were expecting someone to do something for you and they don't and you can't let it go.

2011 was a hard year for so many people.  Americans saw protesting all over the country.  We've seen Republican Presidential candidates that are the most appalling group yet.  Preaching hate and intolerance.  Teaching their children to despise gays and lesbians.  And now, trying to rally the rest of these like minded individuals to take away the newly acquired basic rights some earned this year.  It sickens me.

I spent a couple of hours just now watching a show called 'Beyond Scared Straight'.  They bring these at risk kids into an actual prison and scare the shit out of them.  The first episode was particularly interesting in that one of the girls being 'scared straight' came face to face with the mother she thought was out of jail.  Turned out she violated her parole and was back in.  The mother is literally on her knees begging her daughter not to follow in her footsteps.  And hopefully that worked.  Hopefully, these kids will go on and turn their lives around, but how did we get there?

Are we raising generations of children and young adults who care about nothing but themselves to the nth degree?  Of course children and teens are selfish.  They have to learn compassion and empathy.  But some will never find those aspects.  They will forever be cold and cynical either by the life they've been surrounded by or by the life that made them.

I'm scared for my kids to grow up and have kids.  Heck, right now I'm afraid for the point when Emma gets to 1st grade and I'm not there at all and she gets bullied for the first time - because it's happening that young, even younger.  Or even worse, to find out my kid is the bully.

I think I've lost track of where this post is going.  Basically I've had a few friends who had a rough 2011.  Even me, whose ultimate wish for another baby came true in 2011 it was still the hardest year I had to get through.

I think that in my own problems I forgot about everyone else's problems.  And I've had friends say 'oh, well what did they expect, you're pregnant?' or something similar.  That's not the person I want to be.  I want to be the friend who despite whatever may be going on will stop to take a moment to call or email or text or facebook or whatever the hell and reach out.  Because years and years ago someone reached out to me.  And if she hadn't (ET) I wouldn't be here.  I have been a good friend.  Would do anything for my friends, but sometimes seeing someone struggle I lose the words I want to say to them.  'Be strong' 'You can do it' just don't seem to cut it so well.

But this year I vow that I will say whatever needs to be said so that my friends, my real friends, know what I think of them.  How I value them and appreciate them everyday.

I've heard people say all the time 'every day is a struggle'.  Well, let's not let it be.  Let's make everyday a celebration.  Let's eat better & celebrate the fact that we can take a hike without passing out.  Let's hold the door open for someone going inside the library because we can.  Let's say 'hi' to a passerby on the sidewalk because we both live in this town.  Let's help that older woman put her groceries in her car.

Let's smile at our friends and loved ones every time we see them because every time we get to see them is a gift.  Let's hold our babies tight and cover their faces with kisses and love them as fiercely as we can.  Let's be the best spouse we can be.  Let's go back to our vows and remember what we had promised in the beginning of our marriages.  Let's return to that.

And then let's celebrate that we have friends who love us, family that stands by us, children that adore us and be grateful that we are so lucky.  That we are so blessed.

th1rteen r3asons why

Still getting our vacation pictures together!  So in the meantime, here's a review on a book I finished while en route on said vacation.

For about 5 seconds I thought about being 'cute' and listing 13 reasons why you should read this book, but this isn't a cute book and it shouldn't really be taken lightly so I nixed that idea pretty quick.

Clay arrives home one day to find a package addressed to him.  Excited about the prospect of a gift he didn't know was coming quickly turns into horror as he finds several cassette tapes with the voice of Hannah Baker, a school mate and Clay's crush who recently died.  Hannah goes on to explain that these tapes are the 13 reasons why she took her life and if you're receiving these tapes it means that you had part in one of the reasons.

As Clay wanders the streets of his town, following the map that Hannah provided, his dread grows deeper and deeper.  He cannot figure out what his part in Hannah's suicide could have been and the idea of listening to the tapes until he gets to his name is almost unbearable.

I think this book should be mandatory reading for middle and high school students.  Well, not just the students, but teachers and parents as well.  The book isn't just about suicide, but of the effect everyone has on everyone around them even if they are not intending on being hurtful.  It also showcases the people who are left behind.  Who are wounded by the actions of the person who committed suicide.  The immeasurable guilt that is left behind.  The permanence of such an act.

My depression started when I was about fifteen.  I honestly don't know what, if anything, triggered it or if I was just meant to feel that way.  Nothing I said or did felt right.  Despite being surrounded by friends and family who loved me I felt alone and sick.  It ebbed and waned but it stayed with me throughout most of my young adult life.  I spent a short amount of time in the mental ward when things quickly spiraled out of control and while now, I can look back on that time with a bit of humor, it was still a very dark time in my life.

One of the things I've noticed about blogging is the number of people who pour themselves out onto the screen.  People who feel the way I felt those years back.  I want so desperately to reach out and tell them that it does get better someday.  That maybe your pain doesn't disappear completely, but that there are always these rays of sunshine that pierce through the haze of pain and it's so worth it.  And for the most part, I do reach out.  But I wonder at times if it's enough.

Sometimes these type of books are hard for me to read.  Much like Susanna Kaysen's Girl, Interrupted I read this book in fits and starts.

Hannah's story escalates throughout the book.  At first you think she's just an over dramatic teen who put too much stock into what people said about her, but as her confessions go on tape after tape you are left to honestly evaluate what you would have done in her situation and you ache for the child she was who was made to make a decision that an adult would struggle with.

What do you think you would do?

i'm going to take this moment to bitch...a lot.

This week I have three doctor appointments.  By Friday I will have poked myself with a tiny, mean little needle 16 times from today.  Unless something is off then I'll have to do it more times.  To add to all the fun-ness that is this pregnancy I have pretty much constant acid reflux.  I didn't even really know what that was until now.  I guess that's fitting considering that I didn't know what heartburn was until I was pregnant with Emma.

When I was pregnant with Emma, near the end I started swelling like a balloon.  It was INSANE!  It lasted for about a week after she was born.  My brother-in-law and I were talking about it this weekend.  He said he just remembered how swollen I got and how he didn't think someone could get that swollen.  I told him I remembered him standing over my legs as they were propped up on the ottoman commenting on how nuts it looked.  I'm starting to get there again a bit.

And the leg cramps.  They started a couple of nights ago and I've had one every night since.  A friend of mine said if I took my calcium pills at night that would help so I've got to try that.  It's also a dehydration thing, but if I drink too much water before bed the acid reflux just loooooves that.

Saturday night I woke up around 3:00 a.m. thanks to my good pal acid reflux, but things just went downhill from there and I was actually throwing up in Ray's little office garbage can.  Why the garbage can, you ask?  Because I was also partaking in a little diarrhea removal.  Yes!  So fun!  I find that sitting in the shower when I feel like crap always helps so that's what I did.  Felt a little better when I got out and got into bed where I began shivering uncontrollably.  I could not get warm!  And I sleep with 7 blankets.

So what I've learned from all this is that I basically can't eat anything.  Not too much salt because it will make me swell.  Not too much sugar because things will go bad for the baby.  No tomatoes, lemon, vinegar, spicy, et al. because of the acid reflux.

But I know that the pay off is greater than all this.  That I signed up for this and wanted it (and still do) so badly.  That even though she's at the stage where she is seriously trying to cause great bodily damage to my internal organs with her little pointy elbows and feet it is all worth it. 

On the bright side, with the three appointments I think I only have to pee in a cup for one.  Yipee!!

blahs

It’s been a few days since I’ve posted.  At first I told myself it was because I was so busy over the weekend.  Emma’s birthday party was a huge success, although quite exhausting.  Then it was Mother’s Day and we juggled spending time with my mom, aunts & grandmother and Ray’s mom & sisters.

But then the days passed and I just don’t feel like doing much.  I don’t really feel like finishing the last of the six books I’m 100 pages from finishing.  I don’t feel like playing the new LEGO Pirates of the Caribbean game Ray got for me, nor am I super gung-ho about putting together the LEGO set of Diagon Alley I got for Mother’s Day.  And I’m sad to say that I have put little effort into taking pictures for my 365 project.

Normally, I would chalk it up to depression, but I’ve been there and know what that feels like and this isn’t it.  I’m just so tired and so tired of feeling yucky.  Since conception I don’t think there has been one full day of this pregnancy where I have felt good and not fighting the urge to throw up.  What makes me the most unhappy is that I love to eat good food and so far I have been unable to eat all the things that I love.  Nothing tastes good. 

It feels blasphemous to complain about not loving every minute of this pregnancy since we worked so hard to get here and went through so much.  I feel ungrateful and as if I’m tempting fate.  I worry because I’m not gaining weight, in fact have lost some weight.  I’m back to wearing non maternity pants.  I worry because I haven’t felt the baby move yet, though I’m only 15 weeks and some say you can’t feel the baby until around 16-17 weeks.

I always thought that the second pregnancy would be worse than the first.  With the first you literally have no idea what to expect.  But with the second, you know and may have experienced all the scary & bad things that can happen and you worry the whole time about those bad & scary things.  And I am a worrier by nature.  So as you can imagine despite the tiny logical part of my brain I’m quite stressed out about ridiculous things.

And I haven’t felt like blogging.

So bear with me and my intermittent postings.  I’ll try my best to get back in the writing groove.

Butterfly Effect

On May the 4th be a part of the Butterfly Effect.  Draw butterflies on your wrists to show your support for people with depression & self harming addictions.