The World Behind My Eyes

 "To love a girl who's used to standing on her own, you must be ready to stay. Be there to hold her hand when she insists, 'I've got this,' and reply, 'But I'm here to help.' Learn her world, the one she's built piece by piece, and find your place in it. Not by overtaking it, but by respecting what's already there. Be prepared to scale the walls she's built around her heart. Not to tear them down but to understand why they exist in the first place. And when you're inside, don't try to change her. Let her be. Because when you love her deeply and she knows she can trust you with her independence, she will hold onto you forever. She doesn't need someone to save her. She needs someone to stay." -Ivan Nicholo Meneses  This quote hit me hard today. I've spent the last several years working hard on myself in a variety of areas. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, socially, financially, and so on...you name it, I...

 "I've written it all down, as a good writer should do."  I just spent literally all night binge watching a show on Netflix, something I have absolutely no business doing right now since I have a very important trip coming up tomorrow. I'm taking my professional exam in just two days now but I am so stressed about it that I am avoiding the stress by watching Netflix.  The show was "The Perfect Couple," a murder mystery based on a novel. One of the characters is a writer. Now that I'm writing my memoir more full-time and trying to learn about navigating the world of publishing (or at least starting the process of learning...), I find myself relating to writers more and more in shows and movies.  That line about writing it all down at the end of the show (said by Nicole Kidman's character) hit me hard. It even made me tear up a bit.  I've found myself dreaming about other writing other stories--not just mine. Yes, I am a dog trainer. That is a big ...

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...

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 th...

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 ...

My friend sent me a video with some quotes from The Office today since she knows that it is my all-time favorite TV show. One of the quotes is from the last episode when Andy says, "I wish there was a way to know that you're in the good old days before you actually left them."  I know I'm in them right now. As I type these words, I am sitting in my recliner with a dog curled up on top of me. She is not a lap dog, mind you--she is a year-old labrador retriever who I've had the privilege of training over the last several months. I adore her, and in a few weeks, I won't be seeing her anymore. This is one of those moments where I wish I could pause time. (Also, I typed that she started having a dream and started twitching, which I always find hilarious--it's even funnier if they wag their tails or bark in their sleep, ha!) I am graduating in 18 days. It is currently 1:00 AM. I don't have time to be writing this, but I am a writer and I have to write when t...

When I worked as a camp counselor a few summers ago in Oregon, we used this analogy with campers about Comfort Zone, Stretch Zone, and Panic Zone, using three concentric circles of ropes lying on the ground. The smallest circle in the middle represents your Comfort Zone, the middle zone is your Stretch Zone, and everything outside of that is your Panic Zone. On the first day of camp, we would lay the ropes on the ground and apply this analogy to the team building and ropes course element things we would be doing together at camp, things in life in general, and our faith. I would describe some scenarios and campers would step to whichever Zone they felt that scenario would put them--like, hanging out with  friends; going to the dentist; meeting a new friend; giving a speech in front of a class; watching a movie on the couch; climbing to the top of the 30-foot tree later in the day (in the harness, of course); telling your crush you like them; etc. It was fun to see the kids laugh an...

Three years now.  I've learned recently about traumatic memories that they don't change over time--well, they don't dull in intensity or something like that. I think that's basically it, although the therapist in the video I watched explained it much more scientifically. But if you have any kind of memory that feels like a flashback to something really intense (or traumatic) and you can still remember the smells, sounds, etc. some of that may never fade--it's like it gets engrained in our brains, like a 4D-photograph or something.  I've been trying to learn about how trauma has affected my brain and body. I've also been trying to learn about the illness(es) that I lived through. The more I learn, the more shocked I am that I am even functioning as well as I am. I am still learning to give myself grace but I wish I had known all of this so much sooner than I could have given myself so much more grace and forgiveness...well, years ago.  I wish I could tell you...

I've been doing a lot of thinking. I know, shocking right? I can't ever turn this brain of mine off. She's a deep-thinking machine. But, I've been thinking lately about what's next in life for me. I feel like I'm arriving at a fork in the road come May 2023: I can return to my Texas roots or take a more adventurous route.  Both are appealing, and in many ways either is going to be an adventure because wherever I end up in Texas I'll still be starting my new career--whether as my own dog training business or joining an already established service dog organization. I'll have my own home, even if it's small. I plan to invest in some nicer (more durable, dog-friendly) furniture.  If I go with the "adventurous" route...well, there's no telling. I could go anywhere where there's a job. Dogs are literally everywhere and I could potentially even go to another continent if I wanted to--although that might be a little too adventurous? But the...

I know that nobody really reads this blog anymore (maybe a couple people, but not like in the old days) and so I'm using it as a place to just process things because I just need to write. Writing has always been one of my ways to figure the world out--both the world in my brain and the world in general.  In a few ways, I have been creatively on fire the last few weeks. I have had a lot of ideas for the plot of my dog musical and I've come up with a final title for my memoir (yes, I know, I've said this a million times before--but this time I actually mean it). I even designed a cover page. I don't know if this will be the real cover page, but I'm in love with how it turned out and everything on it has a symbolic meaning of things I'm going to write about in the book. I also love the fact that I was able to design it myself. I've also been dancing a lot--all the time; my favorite form of exercise and a creative outlet.  On top of all this, I've been able...

 My cousin Colby would have turned 27 two weeks ago. It's coming up on eight years since she died. Lately, I've just been wishing I could talk to her about all kinds of things. The night before her birthday I had a dream that she visited me and I got to talk to her about some of those things.  I told her, "There have been so many good musicals since you died. I wish you were here for that," and she said, "Yeah, me too!"  I asked her questions about heaven. She said, "Well, it's kind of hard to explain." Apparently, that answer was good enough for me because I just said, "That's understandable." Ha!  Musicals were one of the common interests Colby and I shared. Singing, dancing--really anything involving performing. Not long before she died, we went to see my best friend Carlee perform in Little Shop of Horrors, a doubly treasured memory (because seeing Carlee light up a stage is always my favorite).  At Colby's funeral, I dist...

So this past week in therapy I expressed something that had been weighing on me for a while: there is not a single person who can truly, totally understand all the places I have been in the past six years. My parents came closest, sure. And then I have my circle of closest girlfriends who have walked through (figurative) fire with me and have celebrated every tiny victory along this (wild) healing journey. But no one WENT to all the places with me. No one lived with me when I moved from Abilene to Waco--then across the country to California! Then, it fell apart--back to Abilene again. Then, to Oregon for a bit--then back to Abilene. Then to Houston for treatment, then to Waco during the pandemic. Then back to Houston for more treatment and to get my life going. Then back to California (and here I still am).  That's a lot of moving, right? That's a lot of life. I have a million stories about the wonderful people I met along the way: the people in all the churches I visited; my c...

 I have felt this need to write about my life from a very young age. I remember telling a fellow cancer survivor that I was going to write a book about my story. I haven't ever done that, but I did write a poem in middle school about my cancer story and then again for a paper in high school. It's always been my way to process and share. It's cathartic. We as humans love stories--we love to hear each other's stories and we love to read fictional stories, too. The more amazing and beautiful the better, right? We love to be inspired.  I love storytelling. It's also why I love theater, dance, and film. I love to immerse myself in a character, or to be immersed in a story. I think if I were not pursuing my current career (or in an alternate life perhaps) I would have loved to be a choreographer or perhaps a director. I studied dance for a few years and I love just about every genre, so when a song with a good beat or good lyrics comes on, I can envision a dance in my hea...

So I'm fully entrenched in my thirties now: thirty-one, baby! Now that I think about my twenties being completely removed from me, I can let out the deepest sigh of relief and dance right into this decade with all the joy and healing I now possess.  This is going to be my decade. I can feel it in my bones. I am determined to make that true since the last couple of decades were...well, "not my favorite" is kind of an understatement!  I'd like to leave the past in the past as much as I can. It's still tough though! I'm still grieving. I don't have anyone to directly blame or be angry with about the things that happened to me. It's not like anyone hurt me on purpose. No one misdiagnosed me on purpose. My doctors were all caring individuals who were doing the best they could with the information they had at the time.  As far as tragedies and circumstances, I'm not angry at God--and I really have searched my heart about this. I do have plenty of convers...

So the saying goes that 3am is the time for poets and writers--and boy, oh boy have I found that to be true because here I am in the middle of night (early morning?) wide awake and I've been writing, journaling, praying for a couple hours, deep in thought and reflection about too many things to count.  I started re-reading my blog a bit ago and saw a post I wrote almost exactly a year ago and realized I wrote that excellent Karen Lamb quote I adore: "A year from now you'll wish you had started today."  She was totally correct--except for the fact that the last two years I did the thing! Two years ago, I was just starting my intensive treatment program, feeling totally hopeless. I never really thought I'd go back to school--definitely not a year later! One year ago, I was over a month into my first semester. I had just started, and it was really hard. I questioned the decision constantly last year! Could I really do this? Was everybody wrong to believe that I could...

You know, it's been two decades since I survived cancer. I finished chemotherapy in April (I think?) of 2002. I don't know the exact date or anything. But I do know that at this point 20 years ago, I definitely didn't have cancer in my body anymore. I began the phase of tests and check-ups to make sure it stayed that way--and that phase continued for years, but the tests always came back clear.  I have been wanting to write about it. I've reflected and thought about this anniversary a lot--especially as three of my friends have gotten cancer this year, and that hit me hard (they are all doing okay for now). Over the years I have begun to know how to care for myself when a loved one gets cancer, but it took a while. I have to go and be alone. I have to eat comfort food, watch a familiar movie, spend some time praying and crying out to God, and just curl up and weep on the person's behalf. That is my new routine. It's the only thing to do. Because I know what they...

I’ve been extra introspective the last week or so—which is saying a lot, as I tend to be a deeply introspective person most of the time anyway.  Anniversaries tend to make me reflective though. Today (March 20, 2022) is the two year anniversary of when I discharged from the Menninger Clinic. That’s a psychiatric hospital. I was there for ten and a half weeks, from January through March of 2020. To say that those weeks were life-changing would be a huge understatement. They were also some of the hardest weeks of my life. The only people who truly understand that experience right now are my family, my treatment team, my fellow patients, and the friends who walked closely with me during that time (and since).  I have been reflecting on how far I have come since then and it’s astounding. I could not have possibly imagined where I would be now. I am on my way to living the life I have always dreamed. I am one year away from completing the bachelor’s degree I thought might be a drea...