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I have recently been writing about my father.  I was basically forced into it by reaching deep down in myself and realizing, ‘What people do not know about me’. 

Well, if you do know me, I am a pretty outgoing person.  I tend to ‘put my heart on my sleeve’. You know when I’m happy, sad, uncomfortable, angry, ect. I feel and I feel all the way out. This was the hardest essay I have ever had to write.  Not only because almost everyone who knows me knows almost everything about me, but because it was of my dad. 

I feel as if no perfect words could describe how much my father meant to me.  I feel exposed. I feel like I am using his lessons as a way of getting into college and not paying appropriate homage to a beautiful person, who was on this earth for such a short period of time. I feel his lessons are exposed on a mere piece of paper when they should have been my legacy for no one to read about but to see through my actions.

His legacy saved my life.

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My counselor printed off this beautiful list of tips to keep your head held high when you are in a slump. I suggest if you’re having a bad day, to definitely look up this article to get a little enlightenment and remember that YOU’RE NOT ALONE. Even if you do not define yourself as ‘depressed’ but are having an off day, look it up to give you confidence that the there is a light, at what seems to be, a very long tunnel. 

Depression is real. It is nothing to be taken lightly and it is nothing to be judgmental about. Everyone goes through it and if they haven’t they will. It hurts and it’s real.  It takes a big person to admit to it. If someone approaches you about their depression, listen with an opened ear and heart because you may be the light that they have been searching for.

We are one. One unit. One people. 1 in 5 of us suffer with depression. Lets end this cycle.  

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A few weeks ago my contemporary moral philosophy class was discussing the act of euthanasia. We read an article about a girl who was kept alive on a ventilator and her parents decided she was suffering staying alive with the machine. The girl ended up living for another 10 years after being taken off of it.
This hit very dear to my heart. My dad had been on a ventilator for two weeks after suffering from a mass stroke from a brain tumor bleed. My mom had decided that he was suffering from being kept alive with machines and he would not have wanted it. So she decided to take him off of it. He was breathing on his own for one day and the next he was gone.
I, of course, had to speak up in class and explain my real-world example. I was confident I wouldn’t cry. I mean it has been almost 9 years since my father’s death. I could tell friends confidently about it without even a crack in my voice. The exact opposite thing happened in class. Through my broken voice I told my small class of 15 what had happened to my dad. I was so embarrassed I just wanted to crawl into a hole. I didn’t speak up for the rest of class.
At the end of class a guy in my class handed me a piece of paper. I took it without question. It read:

‘I think it’s pretty awesome how strong you are; that you can come to class and talk about euthanasia or “allowing to die”. God has a plan for your life and I’m sure your dad is proud of you. My brother had to make the same decision with my nephew who was in a serious car accident. My brother went off the deep end and became an alcoholic, but he is slowly recovering. It’s amazing that you are such a strong individual who was put in that position. Thank you for speaking in class, even when emotions can run high. Don’t forget there are other people out there in a similar situation, and don’t forget how much your parents love you. God works in mysterious ways and it seems apparent to me that you are stronger and will likely do great things with your life. Call your mom and tell her you love her and live everyday to the fullest.’

I had never talked to the kid in the class. I don’t even know his name. But that note gave me so much courage and strength. That note has meant more to me than the sorries I have heard from people for the past 9 years. I keep it on me and with me everyday. Whenever I’m having a bad day I look to that note to give me strength. I will never forget the complete stranger who wrote the most beautiful note to me. God really does send people into your life to change things.

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My school and I met back when I was a junior in high school.  Driving to it with my mom I nearly had a panic attack because I somehow knew that was where I was going to go to school.  As we drove onto campus later that night we were greeted by the football stadium lights.  I fell for it instantly and hard.

I kept it casual with my future school until I got there.  I would visit it a few times here and there.  I told it how I felt, I loved it.  It got scared.  It scared me.    

I have officially been in a relationship with my school for the past year and a half.  It has developed into one of those relationships that I know we don’t have a future together.  I mean sure, it’s great, treats me right, it’s nice but I need that relationship of passion, fireworks, and can actually drop the ‘L’ word without feeling it was just faked.  

We tried the long distance thing over the summer and during breaks.  Sure we would exchange emails here in there just to keep in contact and the relationship steady.  Normally time away makes the heart grow fonder but I would try to forget about it until the day before I went back and I would have my melt down.  I would never admit that to my school.  It just wouldn’t understand.

The cheating started from the beginning.  It first started off small and innocent.  I would wear the other school’s apparel to my school.  My school never really gave it any thought or asked any questions.  Then the other cheating started.  When I got home, I almost instantly went to the other school.  I would never wear my school’s apparel at this school.  It was like I was keeping it a secret.  A secret relationship I was afraid to share with the world, especially the other school.  

I’ve tried breaking it off with my school but I was sadly rejected from the other school.  After my rejection I thought I would give my school another shot.  It promised me it would change and make me feel loved like how I felt at the other school.  It really wants to make things work.  I’ve told my school many times, ‘it’s not you, it’s me’.  It understands and is willing to let me go because it wants to see me happy.  I know other people love my school and will treat it right.  It’s just not fair if neither of us know at the end of the day that it will not work. 

Who knows what the rest of the semester will bring.  I have options and have made moves.  Maybe my relationship will continue with my school and the cheating will continue.  Maybe we can finally make it work with what we have.  Maybe I will finally be set free to go somewhere else. I just know that I was too young when I fell in love with my school. 

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I finally woke up and realized I didn’t want to be unhappy anymore with where I am in life.  This lack of happiness had been eating me slowly from the inside out.  Consuming me into its negativity.  I was stalling instead of progressing.  It was the moment I woke up that I knew some sort of action had to take place instead of sitting around and allowing it to control me.  It is all about the process not the result because everything in life is about the journey and not the destination.  My progress begins today.     

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"Everybody makes mistakes. Even the purest fall short."

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