The World Behind My Eyes

Things are really falling into place for me lately.  This is no accident. I have been working hard. I just feel the need to document it all because I am beyond grateful.  Five years ago I could not have imagined where I am today. Well, actually--I imagined them, but I just did not know if they were ever possible. The woman I am today felt like a shattered dream that could never become a reality for the past versions of myself. When I look back at 2013, 2015, 2017, or 2019 Haley, each of those feels like a different person that I barely know now and do not miss.  I used to believe I was broken. In some ways, I was. I was sick. No longer. I am whole, I am healed, I am well. I am content with where I am and who I am.  I have recently made friends with my body and brain again after the long journey we went on and the mistrust that followed. I was so angry at my brain for betraying me and attacking itself. That brain illness took such a toll on my poor body over an entire decade. My twentie

The title of this blog is a line from a Jon Foreman song that I love. Lately, my life has felt less and less like what I planned. I'm sitting alone in a cafe in Petaluma, California, surrounded by strangers on the eve of my 32nd birthday. I've been working on my memoir for the last few hours. I started listening to “Brain On Fire” on audiobook the last few days and it’s been heavy. It’s added layer upon layer to my research for my memoir. I have to stop every few minutes (or more) and write down notes or my own thoughts. Susannah’s experience with her illness is so similar to mine. It’s intense. I’m doing a lot of reflecting and jotting down things I need to research further. I won an airline gift card from a beloved author and podcaster and decided to come on vacation for my birthday back to California. That’s why I am here now, tonight. I needed some sun and time near the beach. I planned to see friends, do some hiking, visit dogs on campus. The vacation didn’t turn out like

Today, I reflected on what it felt like to be nine years old--when I started fourth grade, life was different. Then 9/11 happened. I turned ten shortly after, and then...I had cancer by Christmas. All during my fourth-grade year. Plenty of people in my life know that I'm writing a memoir. It's years in the making. Perhaps you've heard, reader, that I'm writing it currently--with a bit more focus than before.  I'm figuring my life out right now post-graduation...I'm not going to go into detail about what that looks like. It's a lot of things. I'm not ready to share all of it with the internet. There are a lot of moving parts right now, too. Some days I feel like I have a lot of clarity and know exactly what my future will hold, other days I feel like a failure. Some days I have written an entire chapter for the book and I feel on top of the world. On other days I have felt unproductive and useless, not wanting to leave my bed.  The good news? Feelings are

In years gone by, there have been times when I was so unhappy with how old I was, where I was living, what I had not accomplished, and what I felt I lacked. Nothing felt good enough in my life. I always waited for the next thing to complete or make me happy. More specifically, I thought: when I had a boyfriend, graduated, had my career going, had things more "figured out," or had...I don't know, "less problems" or something? It was always something.  Lately, and after years of difficult, personal healing work, I've been letting go of this mindset. It's a process. It's not perfect. I'm really hard on myself much of the time. Learning to give myself the same grace and compassion I offer others has been a huge part of my own healing. While I know that no one would have chosen the painful things I've been through, perhaps part of me still believes deep inside that no one wants to date me because I went through grief, loss, illness, and medical tr

Today I needed a reminder that a few years ago,  the woman I am today  was just the far-off dream for a girl who sometimes couldn't get out of bed because her heart felt so heavy and her life felt stuck. Her dreams were big, but her worries were bigger.  That girl couldn't stop grieving, when wave after wave of sadness was emptied on the beach of her life.  This woman? She can't stop dancing morning, noon, and night...because when she hears a good beat, why not? That girl  back then didn't know if there was life after depression. Life was only ever a silver lining on a bottle of pills and endless tears on the pillow. This woman has fought for her dreams, hard-earned: blood, sweat, tears, and everything in between. And now it's been worth it. Laughter is now! There is joy on the other side of hopelessness, as it turns out.  That girl was desperate and looking for answers about what was wrong with her. This woman knows some of those answers as far as the puzzle of he

Once again, I find myself here at nearly 1:00am on a night when I really "don't have time" to write. But I make room for writing because I am a writer--and I'm about to make it such a massive part of my life in the next chapter, which is so quickly approaching. I have to build this habit!  Tonight I am mulling a lot of things over. I am feeling especially existential and sentimental today after my friend who I've known since birth gave birth to her own baby today. I am both overjoyed and a little sad. This bittersweet feeling happens to me more and more often these days.  It's this feeling of appreciation for the beautiful cyclical nature of life, yet also feeling the days and years slipping away.  It's the feeling that lately, I am finding the exact life I have always dreamed of--yet I still can't help but compare myself to everyone I know who is already married and having babies and wish that I was in that stage as well. I want to have kids that are