10 Years Later

Dear Molly,

September 1st, 2023.

You started this blog on September 1st, 2013. 10 years ago! It was kind of a spur of the moment thing.

So. You're 25 now. An adult-y adult. Two years out of college. Did the past decade play out like you'd envisioned it would? Well, no.

Way back then, you were just doing the best you could, hoping you'd make it past a tough year transitioning to high school.

Then your world completely fell apart. You don't like playing the reverse what if game, but if any number of things had played out differently when you were 15, things wouldn't have spiraled out of control like they did.

You did pull yourself out of that first hole. Being forced to change schools, mental breakdown, and being pulled out of school. By sheer determination, you got your life back on track. 

By standing up to your parents to do what you knew had to be done and transferred back. Even then, you displayed a remarkable knack of smiling through whatever garbage-baloney comes your way.

You made it college, and muddled through.

You transferred and moved away from home, and then there was a pandemic.

You got fired from two jobs and lost two grandparents in the span of a year. Your self confidence was destroyed.

But hear you are, with two college degrees, two part time jobs, and things seem to be moving in the right direction.

Now that you're not in school, you're able to really train as a figure skater! You're taking private lessons 3 times a week, expensive, but so worth it. Moves in the field, testing and competition programs, ice dance, and now showcase!

You haven't been playing cello, but you're teaching violin lessons. You're trying to make more lanyards. You're taking a Spanish class.

You're still working in operations at Lakewood ICE, and are two weeks into your first "big kid job" as a paraeducator at Burbank Elementary School in Artesia.

You (finally) have a driver's license and are hoping to buy a car, move out, and start graduate school for occupational therapy in the next couple of years. 

Overall, you're trying your hardest to live your best life. 

10 years later, you're still sharing your story with the immediate world. And you're proud of that.

Love,

Molly

Song of the Day: Beautiful Times by Owl City

Beautiful Times 

A spark soaring down through the pouring rain

And restoring life to the lighthouse

A slow motion wave on the ocean

Stirs my emotion up like like a rain cloud

When did the sky turn black?

And when will the light come back?

A cab driver turned to skydiver

Then to survivor,

Dying to breakdown

A blood brother, surrogate mother,

Hugging each other, crying their eyes out

When did the sky turn black?

And when will the light come back?

I'm ecstatic like a drug addict

Locked in the attic

Strung out and spellbound

I fought all through the night

Oh, oh, but I made it alive

The sun's starting to rise

Oh, oh, these are beautiful times

This fight of my life is so hard, so hard, so hard

But I'm gonna survive

Oh, oh, these are beautiful times

A bad feeling burned through the ceiling

Leaving my healing heart with a new scar

A dead fire rose and rose higher

Like a vampire, up from the graveyard

When did the sky turn black?

And when will the light come back?

We all suffer but we recover

Just to discover life where we all are

I fought all through the night

Oh, oh, but I made it alive

The sun's starting to rise

Oh, oh, these are beautiful times

This fight of my life is so hard, so hard, so hard

But I'm gonna survive

Oh, oh, these are beautiful times

This fight of my life is so hard, so hard, so hard

But I'm gonna survive

Oh, oh, these are beautiful times

My heart's burning bad

And it's turning black

But I'm learning how to be stronger

And sincerely, I love you dearly

Oh, but I'm clearly destined to wonder

And Now

 Written in December 2022

Dear Molly,

It's been nine years and three months since you started this blog. It's been six months since you graduated college. It's been four since you turned twenty-four. And now?

Now you can say that your twenty-third year rivaled your fifteenth for most tumultuous of your young life.

Pippi (the best dog ever) died in December. It wasn't unexpected, but it was sudden. She was your family Hanukkah present in 2008. She'd had a tumor on her leg for over a year, and then it ruptured. 

On January 1st, you wished that 2022 would be brighter than 2021. January was fine.

In February, things started to fall apart. You got a new roommate who blew up at you when you tried to apologize for being messy. You were on edge, and planned a trip home for the first weekend of March.

On March 5th, Grandma Phyllis was admitted to the hospital. You flew back to San Jose on March 6th. On March 11th, Dad called you to say she was going downhill, and you booked the first flight home for the next day. Early in the morning on March 12th, she died. 

You flew back to San Jose. And then you broke down. Rehashing the details is just painful. You'll share about the middle part of the year when everything has been resolved.

So yeah. Now you have a driver's license, and two college degrees, and they mean diddly squat. You didn't have many job prospects because you don't have relevant work experience nor reliable transportation. 

The sad truth is that you're still not always proud of yourself. You still feel like you haven't done anything remarkable. You just spent six years of your life in limbo. Your mental health went down the toilet, then you got an AD/HD diagnosis, which broke you and mended your soul all at once. You've been reconciling with that diagnosis ever since.

The reason you feel that way is clear enough. At the end of the day, your college diploma is the same piece of paper everyone else got for graduating. Sure, yours has a lot of words on it, but a whole degree in music has only made your imposter syndrome worse.

It's been six years since you were singled out and made to feel special. And that's because as a college student, you weren't. It will always hurt that no matter what happens in the future, you finished your undergrad without getting any sort of special recognition in the form of a piece of paper suitable for framing. 

But more than that, you never got the feeling of being selected, chosen, and wanted by your peers. They love you in orchestra, but if you're thrown in a room with a bunch of music performance majors and/or the marching band, they don't always know what to make of you. "To know you is to love you", but they never seem to want to get to know the real you. They see you at your worst, and as you've been told, somehow can't grasp what you'll be like at your best. Big surprise, you still buckle when under external stress. It's caused you to suffer so much. You constantly feel judged. It's sad but logical that you've developed a fear of workplace bosses, given how more than once, they were looking to find fault. It's mind-boggling how they lose humanity in the process.

At least you have skating. It's the one thing in your life that has never let you down. The Rinks-Lakewood ICE is your happy place, no ifs, ands, or buts. Full stop. No question. This has been true since 2009. Since you were in fifth grade. Coming up on 14 years. Longer than it hasn't. And this will never change. 

You didn't realize the full extent of it until to you got to the rink complex in San Jose. It's state of the art, sure, but it's sterile. It's not that the people aren't nice, they're just not welcoming. Lakewood is lived in. Cue the corn and cheese, there's no place like home, there's no place like the rink, and there's no place like your home rink.

But you've buckled down, busted out, and broke through. You've paid your dues. The tides will have to turn eventually, right?

And maybe they did, just a little. You're working as a skate guard at Lakewood now, although you've been stuck with the cosmic skate shifts, which have never been your cup of tea.

May 2023

Today I heard the strangest, I heard the strangest song

A DJ a star away is playing it to turn us on

(Ay)

My heart started glowing, I feel it inside, it's flowing

I say I know, I know, I know, we're only human

I know, I know, I know how we're designed, yeah

Oh I know, I know, I know, we're only human

But from another planet

Still they call us humankind

Today I had the strangest feeling that I belong (belong)

(Ay)

Before, I was dying, I feel it inside, now I'm flying

I say I know, I know, I know, we're only human

I know, I know, I know how we're designed, yeah

Oh I know, I know, I know we're only human

But from another planet

Still they call us humankind

Before, I was dying. I feel it inside, now I'm flying

I know, I know, I know

We're only human

I know, I know, I know

How we're designed

Oh I know, I know, I know

We're only human

But we're capable of kindness

So they call us humankind

Another Cycle 'Round the Sun

Dear Molly,

2021 is over. What. A. Year. 

It was another year of finding your place, another situation where circumstances snowballed and blew up in your face, another time you had to deal with rejection from things you wanted more than anything, and another chance to remember your own guts and grit, and another realization to give yourself grace.

As always, you stepped up without hesitation, and proved to be a rare example of someone who follows through. And being a member of the SJSU School of Music and Dance Advocacy Committee was a blessing. You didn't have to go out of your comfort zone, you just had to show up. And just by being willing to stick around and offer an opinion here and there, you made a difference.

As always, you refuse to let things go if they mean a lot to you, even against your better judgement. After awkward online Camp Scherman, you just wanted to go back and replace the horrible memories of spiraling out of control with memories of making a positive impact. Except you ruined it by confiding in the wrong person. Impulsively, you applied to Northern California camps, landed a position, and knew that it was going to feel like a stepping stone to getting back to where you wanted to be. You chose the camp that was going to be the least similar to the camps you grew up with. The camp at a new site. But the red flags were there before you even started. You had to learn the hard way that there's only so much one person can handle when everyone around them has no clue what they're doing because they've never done it before. So camp with Girl Scouts of Northern California wound up being a dud. Thankfully, there's 110 other councils that would love to welcome you and help you grow as a counselor and as a person.

Then there was the music fraternity debacle. It hurt you right in the heart. 'They'd be lucky to have me' to 'it's their loss' to 'they never deserved me in the first place' is brutal when you're not wanted anywhere. There's something to be said for being wanted, but in the end, you need to put your heart and soul into things that will be there for the rest of your life. You're not going to be a college student forever. But you fully intended to ice skate as long as possible.

And then you did something above and beyond just dealing with whatever garbage-baloney life gives you and moving forward. You joined color guard, for real this time. It was a decade-long pipe dream that became a reality. The learning curve was steep, more tears of frustration than you'd care to admit to were shed, and you questioned why you signed yourself up for something you were woefully underprepared for. But over the course of four months, you kept at it, attending every practice, and trying your best to learn in an unforgiving environment. And the end result, a pregame sequence and five halftime shows was something to be proud of.

As always, you made your way back to the group that's been your sanctuary for coming up on two-thirds of your life: orchestra. A group were you belong, fit in, and are appreciated.

2022 will mark the end of your life as an undergraduate student. What a journey it's been.

A horrifying first semester with a barely passing GPA at CSULB. Getting a long-awaited AD/HD diagnosis, and learning that your learning struggles weren't about anything you did or didn't do was a relief. Being able to be yourself on your own terms the next year, and learning how to work through anxiety when it hits. A third year that wasn't part of the plan that was largely unremarkable.

Finally achieving the goal of going to a school not in Long Beach. Turning the pipe dream of majoring in music into a reality. A global pandemic that left you stuck doing school work in your room for more than a year. Going back to a San Jose, which will never be quite be your home, but will always be a good place to learn and grow and become your best self.

In four short months, you'll be a college graduate. You'll get a certificate suitable for framing! A Bachelor of Arts with majors in Behavioral Science and Music, with a minor in Creative Arts. (The minor was for good measure. It was actually just three extra classes that were easy enough. There was already one extraneous class, two semesters of choir and one of steel drums from CSULB and one class that also counted as a music elective.) 

Although you already knew the general direction your life is headed, you're almost ready to face the future. You know who you are, and you know who you're meant to be. No matter what life throws your way, you can rise above. To quote the Arthur Theme Song, Believe in yourself, and that's the place to start.

Love,

Molly

Song of the Day: 100 Years by Five for Fighting.

Well, you're only at 23 years and change, but you already feel as though you've lived a meaningful life and accomplished all the things you've set out to do. You only have 100 years to live, but you intend to make each of them count.

I'm 15 for a moment
Caught in between ten and 20
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

I'm 22 for a moment
And she feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars

15, there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15
There's never a wish better than this
When you've only got a hundred years to live

I'm 33 for a moment
I'm still the man, but you see I'm a "they"
A kid on the way, babe
A family on my mind

I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life

15, there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose yourself within a morning star

15, I'm alright with you
15
There's never a wish better than this
When you've only got a hundred years to live

Half time goes by, suddenly you're wise
Another blink of an eye, 67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on

I'm 99 for a moment
And dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

15, there's still time for you
22, I feel her too
33, you're on your way
Every day's a new day

Ooh-ooh-hoo, ooh-hoo-hoo
Ooh-ooh-hoo, ooh-hoo-hoo
Ooh-ooh-hoo, ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo

15, there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose, hey, 15
There's never a wish better than this
When you've only got a hundred years to live

Blogi-versary

Dear Molly,

The world made it through eight months of 2021. 

This blog has made it through eight years of your life.

Every time you do a requisite 1st of the month blog, you find yourself marveling about how much time has passed. Now, it's nearing a decade. A newborn would be a third grader. So, you went back to read every entry, just like you said you would in September of 2013.

You indeed wrote to your future self and anyone willing to listen. And Type B+ Journey chronicles your life events, and your growth as a human.

"Wherever you go, there you are."

Well, since your last entry, you went to a new place that wound up being nothing like you expected. 

Working at Girl Scouts of Northern California Camp Hidden Falls nearly broke you. 

Basically, nobody at the camp knew what they were doing. No one had ever been in their role before, and some had never been to camp at all. You were suffering emotionally and had zero support. So rather than try to help you be a good counselor, they terminated you on an hour's notice. You'll never forget being given the suicide hotline number on a post it and dropped off at the airport, being wished "good luck."

You were left in the lowest place since 2014. Old wounds opened up and new ones created. It starts to feel like you'll never catch a break. Like whenever there's something important, you screw it up. Like you don't do well with responsibility and never will. In all honesty, at least at the moment, responsibility can start to frighten you. 

But you're working on that, learning to be the best leader you can be. Every day. Never doubt that you are worthy of love and respect. You have good things to contribute to the world. 

And you made it back to San Jose. Back to music making and a double major BA. And hopefully, back to believing in yourself.

Song of the Day: "Miracles (Someone Special) by Coldplay.

My father said never give up son
Just look how good Cassius become
Mohammed, Mahatma, and Nelson
Not scared to be strong

Now you could run and just say they're right
No I'll never be no one in my whole life
Or you could turn and see the way they're wrong
And get to keep on dancing all life long

My father said never give up, son
Just look what Amelia and Joan done
Or Rosa, Teresa, the war won
Not scared to be strong

Now you could run and just say they're right
No I'll never be no one in my whole life
Or you could turn and see the way they're wrong
And get to keep on dancing all life long
Yeah you could be

Someone special
You've got bright in your brains and
Lightning in your veins
You'll go higher then they've ever gone
In you I see
Someone special
You've got fire in your eyes and
When you realize
You'll go further then we've ever gone (look)
Just turn it on

I pay my intuition I couldn't afford tuition
My funds was insufficient and it felt I'm in prison
Until I realized I had to set my mind free
I was trusting statistics more than I trust me
Get a degree, good job, 401k
But I'm trying to turn Ks to Ms what does it take?
And maybe I could be the new Ali of music, probably
Instead of doing it just as a hobby like these boys told me to
I guess you either watch the show or you're showin' proof
Prove it to them you prove it to yourself
But honestly its better if you do it for yourself
Never complacent 'til we hit the oasis
One life don't waste it feel my heart races, success I taste it, I
We on the verge again and every single day that we deserve

Yeah you could be
Someone special
You've got fire in your eyes
I see heaven inside
You'll go further then we've ever gone
In you I see
Someone special
You've got bright in your brains
You can break through those chains
You'll go higher then we've ever gone
Just turn it on

In you I see
Someone special
Don't go to war with yourself
Just turn, just turn, just turn it on
And you can't go wrong

You don't have to brave all the time, but remember you shouldn't be scared to be strong. 

And you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for being.

You've got bright in your brains, lightning in your veins, and fire in your eyes.

You can break through those chains.

You are someone special.   

Love,

Molly

Seven Years and Seven Months

Dear Molly,

When you started this blog on September 1st, 2013, you wanted to begin to tell your story to the world. At 15, you couldn't have fathomed the story your teenage and college years would turn out to be. Let's recap.

15: Upheaval.

The first semester of tenth grade managed to chew you up and spit you out. You lost pretty much all motivation to succeed. You lasted two weeks at the school you'd made a conscious decision not to go to, and ended up in a homeschooling program for the remainder of the year. Utter hell. At least this turn of events lead you to start figure skating again. For the first time in eight years, you couldn't go to Girl Scout camp. Instead you had to do summer school, which was a drag and a bore. 

16: Loneliness. 

It's ugly. It's especially ugly when you know that nobody else can relate, by default. It's knowing you shouldn't feel lonely, you're in an accelerated program! You're in orchestra! Yes, but your class schedule is handpicked, and you hate it. New friends were difficult to come by. But academically, you did better. As and Bs in Honors and APs! You aced Spanish. But in the end, you knew you had to flee. Flee from a so-called music teacher who was a bully at best and emotionally abusive at worst.

17: Growth.

Back at the high school where you started, you did better. You had friends, were in a music ensemble that provided both challenge and inspiration, and overall were in a better headspace. You got an A in AP English Lit, and shined in Finite Math. Your first, last, and only math award was your first, last, and only non-obligatory honor in high school. (Thank you, Ms. Schaaf, who will openly express her distaste for the concept of teacher of the year, but earned the Molly Rosenfeld's Math Teacher of the Public School Career award. Her approach to education is: If you want to learn, I'll teach you; if you don't, stop wasting my time. It works.) You really wanted to go away for college, but you agree to start at CSULB, knowing all along your plan is to run fast and far as soon as possible.  

18: Change.

Your first year of college. It was rocky at best. The advising was garbage, and you felt dropped in without a net. With a stroke of bad luck, you had two rather nasty professors your first semester. Your grades reflected this, you finished the year with a GPA so low it was embarrassing. That summer, you were supposed to work at Camp Scherman, but had another breakdown while at training. You seem to have a proven talent for screwing the important things up. You're still working on that. The inadvertent high point of that year was getting a new therapist and being diagnosed with AD/HD. Your academic struggles have a root cause. There's a reason why you struggled so badly. It's nothing you did or didn't do, it's a difference in your brain chemistry. You are wired differently.
 
19: Belonging.

Year two at CSULB, and it was mostly alright. Your classes fall semester were alright. You landed a job as a research assistant in the phonetics lab. Spring semester, you threw yourself into music classes at Bob Cole, ending up with orchestra, choir, steel drums, and piano. You made friends! But your mental health took a definite hit because you were in so many classes. But your grades were respectable. Your grand transfer plans had to wait, but it was a setback you could deal with.

20: Complacency.

This year felt pretty unremarkable. Fall semester classes weren't so hot, physical anthropology with yet another rather nasty professor and a physiology class where you just couldn't keep up, and you dropped both. Spring semester was better. The highlights of the year were definitely skating and playing the Studio Orchestra at Bob Cole. In fact, one Sunday in February, you got to compete in the morning and perform in the evening! Your first national ISI competition, and first orchestra concert not in Long Beach fell on the same weekend, which was fine by you. (Alas, you wound up getting second place out of two for your artistic routine to "Waking Up", and first place out of one for your interpretive/extemporaneous routine to "Thriller". The concert was at a church in Downey.) But your grand transfer plans  were a go!

21: Achievement.

You made it to San Jose State, and overall, had a good time. Three upper division behavioral science courses at once almost did you in at a few points. Music theory is not your forte. But you made friends in orchestra, had a great time in voice class, and enjoyed being away from your family for the first time. 

A Rose: One randomly assigned roommate who you bonded with right away and became your go-to for all things music, a confidant, and one of your favorite people. A Thorn: One randomly assigned roommate who came back at odd hours, would leave lights on when you were trying to sleep, and even let her boyfriend move in on weekends for a month straight. It was disgusting, but one day in February, she just left. You came back to a half-empty room, so it worked out in the end. And your grades were better than ever.

22: Existence.

Well, this is the year the world fell apart with a pandemic. You've been back in Long Beach, taking classes via Zoom, and pretty much just waiting around for things to be normal. You did join the SJSU School of Music Advocacy Committee, and it's great to know you're making a difference. After a 10 month gap, you started back up with ice skating lessons, which does help your overall happiness level. After being kicked to the curb by Camp Scherman this summer after a tense online camp-semblance last year, you impulsively applied to the Girl Scouts of Northern California camps. You're going to be a counselor at Camp Hidden Falls near Santa Cruz, which will be a nice change. And in a year you'll graduate from college, with Bachelor of Arts degrees in Behavioral Science and Music, and a minor in Creative Arts.

And on...

You're closer to 25 than you are to 20, becoming a more adultier adult. There'll be struggles and triumphs, but you're ready to live your best life.

Love,

Molly

Song of the Day: Better by One Republic

Yes. Every day, things are getting better. No matter how sucky the present is, you hold on hope for a bright future.

I don't set alarms
Lately I don't set alarms
But that's because of the ringing that's happening inside my head
Inside my head
Yeah yeah
It keeps me safe from harm
At least I tell myself I'm safe from harm
But really it's probably filling my dreams with dread
So I get out of bed
Yeah yeah
Yes I'm neurotic I'm obsessed and I know it
I can't take vacations and the brain won't believe me I'm on one
Hawaii under warm sun
Yeah yeah

I think I lost my mind
Don't worry about me
Happens all the time
In the morning I'll be better
In the morning I'll be better
Sing it again
I think I lost my mind
But don't worry about me
Happens all the time
In the morning I'll be better
Things are only getting better
Sing it again

I'll tell myself I'll change
That's right I tell myself I'll change
But then I begin to realize that the problems inside my veins
But it's inside my veins (vein)
Yeah yeah
I swear I'm not insane
Yes most likely not insane
Everybody goes through moments of losing their clarity
At least I'm never boring
But I've been losing sleep so call the doctor said take one of these
And call me in the morning

I think I lost my mind
Don't worry about me
Happens all the time
In the morning I'll be better
In the morning I'll be better
Sing it again
I think I lost my mind
But don't worry about me
Happens all the time
In the morning I'll be better
Things are only getting better
Sing it again
Sing it again

So here's the question asked
Of all the things you love the people places from the future to your ancient past
Of every one of those which one will cause you to let it go, let it go
Need to crash

Think you lost your mind
Well don't worry about it
Happens all the time
In the morning you'll be better
Things are only getting better
Sing it again
I think I lost my mind
Don't worry about me
Happens all the time
In the morning I'll be better
In the morning I'll be better
Sing it again
I think I lost my mind
But don't worry about me
Happens all the time
In the morning I'll be better
Things are slowly getting better
Sing it again

December 1st

Dear Molly,

Today is a rough day. And that's okay. There have been rough days before and there will be rough days again. But today might be different. And that's okay. It will be rough, but you will get through it. Online classes are hard. Finals are hard. But you will be alright. You are Molly. You are strong.

From, 

Molly

December 1st, 2020

It's Actually Happening

Dear Molly,

Who'da thunk? Three years after your classmates, it's finally your turn. Long Beach no longer!

Back in 2016, your parents all but forced you to go to Cal State Long Beach. They gave you an ultimatum: CSULB or gap year. You knew being out of school would make you pretty miserable, so your hometown university it was. You had your mind made up. You would attend CSULB for four semesters, long enough to do your general education requirements, and no more. You were ready to let go of the psychological baggage left over from high school.

It was going to be Millikan all over again. You thought you would (proverbially) stand there with a grouchy look on your face and your arms crossed, being perfectly honest about your, ahem, distaste for the institution and how you were eager to leave.

The first year wasn't great. You knew people, dozens and dozens of people,  but that didn't mean you had friends. You began your post-secondary academic career subscribing to "Cs get degrees".

Things did get better. You made friends! As usual, you meet the best people through music. But you knew you needed out.

And in August, you finally made it to San Jose State University. It was a pretty good semester and a half, but COVID 19 forced you home. You're looking forward to going back. 

 Molly

Don't Tell Me I'm Fine

Dear Molly,

This is undoubtedly going to be a hard entry to write. Having to consider the balance between your writer's brain with a never ending flow of words and your sensitive, soulful, please-everyone-at-all-costs state of mind is no simple task.

The point of this blog is to not hold back. That once you hit that Publish button, your words are etched in stone for all of the immediate world to see. Well, digital but permanent stone.

Ki va moed; the time is now, to say what needs to be said. The world needs to listen.

Don't.
Tell.
Me.
I'm.
Fine.

Hear those five little words, loud and clear. Take them in. Turn them over in your mind.

Are they harsh? Absolutely. Can they be sugarcoated? But of course.

Dissect them.

   
Don't: Avoid. Refrain. Stop.
Tell: Say. Speak. Convince.
Me: The Writer; Molly Rosenfeld.
I’m:  The current state of one's being.
Fine: Acceptable. Satisfactory. Alright.

So, what should you say instead?

You. 

Will. 

Be.
Fine.

*********************************************************

You'll never forget the first time someone told you those words when you were in the throes of despair, hating yourself, and thinking that the universe hated you back.

2014. For all intents and purposes, you had been kicked out of Millikan after a mere two weeks, and sent to the dumping ground that is Opportunities for Learning Public Charter Schools. You were, in a word, miserable. Being stuck at home with your own feelings of self-loathing keeps you locked in a depression. A deep, dark hole that you've fallen into and can't escape.

While waiting for your parents to pick you up after a meeting with your independent study adviser, you struck up a conversation with a girl. You explain your anguish, and it felt so good to get it out. She's missing her hair, and explains that she has alopecia. And she tells you that you have a good head on your shoulders, and that she believes in you. You can't even remember her name, but she's one of your heroes.

You're sent back to Millikan for your junior year, and slowly, you start to become aware of your own inner strength. You fall down, and get back up. You stumble a bit, and stand up stronger than before. (As it happens, your parents once gave you a bracelet engraved with: Fall Seven Times, Stand Up Eight. Physically impossible, but the sentiment is true.)

In fact, last Spring, on the eve of two tests, you were feeling pretty low, and posted this on Facebook: 

It's been a rough week, and it's only Wednesday. And I have two tests tomorrow. Woot woot. I need some genuine encouragement. I'm not here to fish for compliments, so I'm proposing a challenge. Give me a compliment and I'll pay you back in-kind. And better still, pass it on. This world could use a happy boost!

Here are some responses: 

You are vulnerable=brave! 
Trust me when I tell you that you know more than you think you know! You've totally got this!
Your positivity, great sense of humor, and intelligence will lead the way. You got this!

Trust you are the woman who can conquer your challenges. I know you are. Remember your strength!
You're an excellent student and extremely capable.

You have always been one of the smartest people I know.
You're one of the strongest people I know. You got it girl!!

You’re strong and I appreciate your undying honesty and love.

*********************************************************

One of your most prized possessions is a gift from a stranger. It's a "giving key", engraved with STRENGTH.

You'll always remember the circumstances of how you acquired it. Mid-July, 2017. You were supposed to be at Camp Scherman. Instead, you were, for the most part, moping at home. You went to the ice rink in an attempt to cheer yourself up, only to remember that Lakewood ICE was hosting the ISI World Recreational Team Championships, so there weren't any public sessions that week. You offer to help out by being a "music runner", and then get chastised for being too chatty when going back and forth with CDs. Being told you're volunteering wrong was enough to make you cry. A women pulls you aside, asks you what's going on, and tells you everything will be okay. She gives you the key on a  necklace, the same one her daughter has, and you cry a little more, grateful for her generosity. 

You often wear it around your neck with a peace sign charm that Sam gave you. Chazak and shalom!

Chazak, chazak v'neit hazeck! Be strong, be strong, and we will be strengthened.

Love,
Molly

At the End of the Day, I'm Grateful

Dear Molly,

It has always ticked you off a tad when people say "I'm blessed" and all the variants. Sure, the religious overtones irk you. But it's more than that.

It's partially how people toss it around. We say "Bless you" when someone sneezes (but that's another story) and when we're going on a tangent thanking someone. When we're wishing someone good luck. And as a teenager in whatever context.

Good ol' Merriam-Webster tells us:

Bless

transitive verb

1. religion : to hallow or consecrate by religious rite or word

2. religion : to hallow with the sign of the cross

3. to invoke divine care for

bless your heart—used in the phrase bless you to wish good health especially to one who has just sneezed

4a. praise, glorify

b. to speak well of: approve

5. to confer prosperity or happiness upon

6.archaic : protect, preserve

7. endow, favor

You usually don't feel blessed, in any sense of the word. More often, you feel cursed. You were cursed with depression and anxiety. You were cursed with a crap hand with music education in your younger years. You were cursed with a high school experience that played out like a bad telenovela. You were cursed with a rocky (at best) start to college.

Maybe you were blessed with a loving family. Innate intelligence. A caring nature. A desire to overcome. Who knows?

But at the end of the day, you're grateful. You're grateful you had a happy childhood. You're grateful for your analytical mind that can't take anything at face value. You're grateful for your friends who love you for you. You're grateful that you've found your passions early in life. 

More than anything, you're grateful that your past doesn't have to define your future. And your future is bright.  

Song of the Day: Kaleidoscope by Coldplay

Okay, this is more like half a song. It's a poem that is read on a track of a Coldplay album.

Either way, it captures the sentiment nicely: Life is going to have ups and downs, but you should embrace every moment.

this being human is a guest house
every morning a new arrival
a joy, a depression, a meanness
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor

welcome and entertain them all!

be grateful for whoever comes
because each has been sent
as a guide

Love,

Molly

Onward and Upward

Dear Molly,

Five years and one month ago, you made a decision that changed your life. You were going to give the world a warning label: This is Molly. Be gentle.

And did it work? It did, indeed.

Somehow, you've made it through four semesters of college. You're officially an upperclassman! Where did time go? You find yourself posing that question in about every other blog entry. Time is a peculiar thing.

Well, it's been awhile since your last entry chronicling life events. Thirteen months, an entire school year, two semesters and a summer session. What's happened? What's changed?

Well, you made it a solid five months without any serious depression issues. And then the depression hit again in March, and it hit hard. And this time, it came with anxiety. Crippling anxiety.

You added on a bunch of extra classes when you realized you'd fallen behind on units. And it was brutal. Three actual classes: Language Acquisition, Listener's Approach to Music, and Human Development. Medical Terminology, which is a prerequisite for occupational therapy graduate school. One unit, an instructor who was a cool person but didn't do much instructing, 7 page worksheet packets due weekly, and frustration spent trying to remember all of the chole/o words. Piano I, which was two hours a week's worth of a battle between your brain and your chunky, chubby, cocktail weenie cellist fingers. Three performing ensembles. Basketball and Weight Training, 'cause units for exercise. And the seminar attached to your research assistant position. 9 different classes. Never again.

You kept yourself together during the weeks, but you could barely get out of bed on the weekends. As usual, you didn't seem to be getting along with normal circadian rhythm patterns. You're actively trying to fix that.

By some miracle, your grades were the best they've ever been in college. Yes, Cs do get degrees, but you're not a fan of being in the middle of the bell curve. Your GPA was 3.35. 7th grade Molly would no longer be quite so appalled.

And guess what? You've made friends!

You've become closer to a handful of Beach Hillel people. And sadly, two of you favorites just graduated. Lea, a fellow "I've got a minor because I'm multi-faceted" person is off to dance for the world. Julia is about to embark on a career in health care administration, which is a path you could never take and admire those who do immensely. And sadly, Rachel and Drew Kaplan moved to Ohio.

And there's your Little Ling Lab Family. You're the wide eyed one, Irene's the cool older sister, Coleen's the glue (with a knack for getting us all distracted), and Bianca's the rebel. You're happy that you'll still get to work with them, as you'll be volunteering in the lab when you can. And there's some new lab people too! No monetary compensation, but no seminar either. You'll take it.

You threw yourself into music. You pretty much took up residence at Bob Cole Conservatory. Music History, Piano, Orchestra, Chorus, and Steel Drums. And friends! People there actually like you. Music majors enjoy your company, and take you seriously as a cellist. You still struggle with thinking of yourself as a legitimate musician, but it's almost there.

Back in the beginning of the fall 2017 semester, you attended a music education "rally". And that choice to mingle over free pizza changed the trajectory of your year. By adding a music minor and hanging around the conservatory with a locker and practice room of your own, you now have more musician friends than you've ever thought possible.

In Beach Orchestra this past spring, there were four cello performance majors, one music education major, and one vocal major who also plays cello. And Andrew, Angel, Emily, Erika, Mariah, and Paola accepted you as one of their own. You've even found a same-age cello best friend in Emily. When you first met her 18 months ago, you thought she was pretentious. Since then, you've come to find she has a sense of humour akin to your own, is also reasonably cuddly(most cellists aren't), and shares the same chunky cello fingers. Oh, how perceptions change.

You've reconnected with some old friends from both Poly and Millikan through orchestra and choir. All were happy to see you again, especially now that you're feeling like your semi-normal self for the first time in years, not a strange depressed version. That honestly came as a surprise. People genuinely like you: faults, flaws, mistakes, insecurities, anxieties and all.

You've befriended composition, vocal, piano, jazz, brass, woodwind and percussion people, and even a few graduate students. You even took the train up to San Luis Obispo to visit Megan, the literal calm to your figurative storm.

Sadly, your grand transfer plans got delayed. Yet another dream deferred. It is what it is.

This semester has been rough so far with physiology, but you're in a good place mentally. And hopefully it'll stay that way.

Song of the Day:
Marchin On by OneRepublic.
You're putting one foot in front of the other, every single day. And you always will.

For those days we felt like a mistake
Those times when loves what you hate
Somehow
We keep marching on

For those nights that I couldn't be there,
I've made it harder to know that you know
That somehow
We'll keep movin' on

There's so many wars we fought
There's so many things we're not
But with what we have
I promise you that
We're marchin' on
We're marchin' on

For all of the plans we made
There isn't a flag I'd wave
Don't care where we've been
I'd sink us to swim
We're marchin' on
We're marchin' on
We're marchin' on

For those doubts that swirl all around us
For those lives that tear at the seams
We know
We're not what we've seen

Oh for this dance we move with each other
There ain't no other step than one foot
Right in front of the other

There's so many wars we fought
There's so many things we're not
But with what we have
I promise you that
We're marchin' on
We're marchin' on
We're marchin' on

For all of the plans we made
There isn't a flag I'd wave
Don't care where we've been
I'd sink us to swim
We're marchin' on
We're marchin' on
We're marchin' on

Right, right, right, right, left
Right, right, right, right, left
Right, right, right, marchin' on

We'll have the days we break
And we'll have the scars to prove it
We'll have the bombs that we saved
But we'll have the heart
Not to lose it

For all of the times we've stopped
For all of the things I'm not

You put one foot in front of the other
We've move like we ain't got no other
We go where we go we're marchin' on
Marchin' on

There's so many wars we fought
There's so many things we're not
But with what we have
I promise you that
We're marchin' on
We're marchin' on
We're marchin' on (marching oh)
Right, right, right, right, left
Right, right, right, right, left
Right, right, right, right
Marchin' on (we're marchin' on)
We're marchin' on
Right, right, right, right, left
Right, right, right, right, left
Right, right, right, right
Marchin' on (oh oh oh)

Love,
Molly

The Tripod

Dear Molly,

It's time that you go back and discuss the original topic of this blog: Mental Illness.

Back when you started this blogging journey, your diagnosis was singular: Major Depressive Disorder. Following your nervous breakdown in February of 2014, a quack psychiatrist slapped you with a Bipolar Disorder II diagnosis. The events that could be described as a manic episode were medication-induced. And the insomnia was the cause of the behavioral changes. Not sleeping was not a side effect of mania. The lack of sleep WAS the problem. You accept a label of Mood Disorder: Not Otherwise Specified, and write a blog entry about it.

At some point, you more or less self diagnose Anxiety, confirmed by your therapist at the time. You attended a group for teenage girls with Social Anxiety, but it became pretty clear that it wasn't your biggest issue, not by a long shot. You're just lovably socially awkward, and working on being less so. And a bit of a homebody at times, but aren't we all? Generalized Anxiety is a more accurate term. But your depression has always posed a much bigger problem than your anxiety. You tend to get anxious that you'll get depressed. Horrible, isn't it?

Around this time last year, you start seeing a new and extremely well-qualified therapist, who brings up an intriguing question. Do you have Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder? Of course, the initial response is: What? No! You can focus with the best of them, and you're not really hyperactive. However, you learn that there are actually multiple forms and manifestations of AD/HD.

The TOVA diagnostic test was truly awful. To keep yourself occupied, you sang camp songs the entire time. You are confirmed to have a type called "Over Focused". It basically means that you can have trouble shifting your attention, and tend to get stuck in repetitive thought patterns. And if the task at hand isn't holding your interest, you can direct 100% of your brain power elsewhere, to something you know you're not supposed to be doing. It does come with the added bonus of being a better multi-tasker than most. You'll take it.

Some people refuse labels, but they comfort the pragmatist in you. You're not broken. There's a name (or three, as the case may be) for what you're experiencing. But you can't tolerate the inaccurate labels. While it's true that you don't like the stigma attached to some problems, it's important that the label is correct so the symptoms can be treated. It was incredibly frustrating to find out that you were given an Autism Spectrum Disorder through seeing the Disabled Student Services paperwork for college. You learn that it was for simplicity's sake, and so that all of the possible help is available to you, even though you'll never need most of it. The bottom line is that you're not autistic. Making eye contact and understanding sarcasm and such are not problems for you, just the social awkwardness that you're working on every day. And you have Major Depression, not Bipolar Disorder.

You still take meds. It's been a long road. You have a lengthy list of prescription drugs that don't help or are unnecessary in treating your symptoms: Lexapro, Prozac, Wellbutrin, Abilify, Zoloft, and  probably something else you're forgetting. That med trail was a disaster of epic proportions. You could even pin the blame on the disaster that was tenth grade on the anti-depressants.

The worst part of it was the weight gain: About 25 pounds. Thankfully you've lost it through switching meds and getting more exercise with skating. The drug that's been working is actually a mood stabilizer, not an antidepressant. It's called Lamictal. You're also prescribed Adderall for the AD/HD, which does help. It's not so much that you feel a difference when you take it. You just notice when you don't take it.

You've accepted the fact that you're not deemed 'normal' by societal standards. You have this tripod underneath you, holding you up. It might have held you back in the past, but not any more. Sure, you could let it tie you down in the future, but that's not going to happen. You're going to keep fighting, every single day.

Song of the Day: The Greatest, by Sia
Sure, you've ran out of breath time and time again, closing your eyes to not feel the pain. But now, you've got stamina. And you sure as hell won't give up. You've certainly hit the lowest of lows, but now, you're free to be the greatest alive.

Uh-oh, running out of breath, but I Oh, I, I got stamina
Uh-oh, running now, I close my eyes
Well, oh, I got stamina
And uh-oh, I see another mountain to climb
But I, I, I got stamina
Uh-oh, I need another lover, be mine
Cause I, I, I got stamina

Don't give up, I won't give up
Don't give up, no no no
Don't give up, I won't give up
Don't give up, no no no

I'm free to be the greatest, I'm alive
I'm free to be the greatest here tonight, the greatest
The greatest, the greatest alive
The greatest, the greatest alive

Well, uh-oh, running out of breath, but I
Oh, I, I got stamina
Uh-oh, running now, I close my eyes
But, oh oh, I got stamina
And oh yeah, running through the waves of love
But I, I got stamina
And oh yeah, I'm running and I've just enough
And uh-oh, I got stamina

Don't give up, I won't give up
Don't give up, no no no
Don't give up, I won't give up
Don't give up, no no no

I'm free to be the greatest, I'm alive
I'm free to be the greatest here tonight, the greatest
The greatest, the greatest alive
The greatest, the greatest alive (oh oh)

Oh-oh, I got stamina (ooh hoo ooh)
Oh-oh, I got stamina (ooh hoo ooh)
Oh-oh, I got stamina (ooh hoo ooh)
Oh-oh, I got stamina (ooh hoo)

Ay, I am the truth
Ay, I am the wisdom of the fallen, I'm the youth
Ay, I am the greatest
Ay, this is the proof
Ay, I work hard, pray hard, pay dues, ay
I transform with pressure, I'm hands-on with effort
I fell twice before, my bounce back was special
Letdowns'll get you, and the critics will test you
But the strong'll survive, another scar may bless you, ah

Don't give up (no no), I won't give up (no no)
Don't give up, no no no (nah)
Don't give up, I won't give up
Don't give up, no no no

I'm free to be the greatest, I'm alive
I'm free to be the greatest here tonight, the greatest
The greatest, the greatest alive (don't give up, don't give up, don't give up, no no no)
The greatest, the greatest alive (don't give up, don't give up, don't give up, no no no)

The greatest, the greatest alive (don't give up, don't give up, don't give up, no no no)
The greatest, the greatest alive (don't give up, don't give up, don't give up, no no no)
The greatest, the greatest alive (don't give up, don't give up, don't give up, no no no)
The greatest, the greatest alive (I got stamina)
The greatest, the greatest alive (I got stamina)
The greatest, the greatest alive (I got stamina)

Love, Molly

14 Years Later: Noemi

Dear Molly,

        So, back to the series of entries on relationships with people. Up next, in honor of 20 years of life today: Noemi Summer. (Noemi Anais Sophie Arellano-Summer, if you're being technical.)

       Harken back to Kindergarten. In the cafeteria, you spot a girl in a different class with pink Barbie glasses. You think to yourself: I hope she didn't take the last pair. If I ever need glasses, I want ones exactly like those! (Alas, when you actually did get glasses, in third grade, you had outgrown your pink phase. Your fist pair were brown.)

      First grade arrives. You befriend Hannah McDonald, and on the playground at Emerson, she introduces you to that girl with the glasses. You learn that her name is Noemi, not Naomi or Noamy. You like her right away, even if you seem to do about seventy-five percent of the talking. (You've since learned how to keep your mouth shut and give other people a chance to get a few words in, and she's no longer quite so shy. Now it's about fifty-five forty-five.)

      You spend time with each other on the playground and after school at Kid's Club. Handball on the Wall, never again after 2nd grade, though. Eventually, you invite her to your house for a play date. Two klutzy gradeschoolers kick around a soccer ball and eat popsicles on the back porch, and a friendship is cemented.

     Simpler times. Remember those giant bouncy balls with handles you could sit on and hop around? To a pair of seven year-olds: "This is paradise." "This is the life." It sure was.

      Not much changes in second grade. You only see her once it twice in third grade though.

      But when fourth grade rolls around, you're thrilled to learn that Noemi will finally be in your class. Thank goodness for GATE. 

      One particular memory comes to mind: Puddle Jumping. Emerson's blacktop has a lot of divots, so after it rains, water collects. One day at recess, you're both bored and an ingenuous idea strikes. Go jump in the puddles, because you can! Subconsciously, you both probably knew that it was a stupid thing to do, and a recipe for facing the discomfort of wet pant legs for the rest of the day. But you're only young once. If college students jumped around in puddles, they'd get some pretty intense stares. 9 year-olds, not so much. It's a memory to treasure.

      Fifth grade begins, and it's an enjoyable year. You go to Camp Hi-Hill which was a lot of fun. You finish at Emerson. On the last day of school, the parents set up a photo booth of sorts, and you take a picture together. It's still on a shelf in your room.

        Middle school starts at Stanford, and it's a bit of a culture shock. You're thankful she's right there with you. Seventh grade comes, seventh grade goes. You manage to survive eighth grade Algebra.

       Having her with you was one of the reasons you choose to go to Poly for high school. You'll always remember making empanadas in ninth grade for that weird science project. 

      After your nervous breakdown in tenth grade, she's the only friend you see with any regularity. It's then you realize she's not going anywhere. She'll always be there of you need her for anything. 

      It was a relief to go back to Poly for your senior year, and graduate beside her. She goes to Boston University now, and you miss her every single day.

      So 14 years later, here we are. You have a best friend for life. Noemi is kind, caring, and extremely intelligent. She loves with her whole heart. You're infinitely grateful she's been a part of your life for so long, and she will continue to be. 

      These are the days, now and forever. 

Song of the Day: The Days by Avicii
Under the tree where the grass don't grow
We made a promise to never get old
You had a chance and you took it on me
And I made a promise that I couldn't keep

Heart ache, heart break
All over town
But something flipped like a switch when you came around
And I'm in pieces, pick me up, and put me together

These are the days we've been waiting for
Days like these you couldn't ask for more
Keep 'em coming
'Cause we're not done yet
These are the days we won't regret
These are the days we won't forget

These are the days we've been waiting for
Rattle the cage and slam that door
And the rhythm is calling us as we're not just yet
These are the days we won't regret
These are the days we won't forget

Out on the midnight
The wild ones howl
The last of the last boys have thrown in the towel
We used to believe we were stars aligned
You made a wish and I fell out of time

Time flew, cut through
All over town
You make me bleed when I look up
And you're not around
But I'm in pieces, pick me up, and put me together

These are the days we've been waiting for
Days like these you couldn't ask for more
Keep 'em coming
'Cause we're not done yet
These are the days we won't regret
These are the days we won't forget

These are the days we've been waiting for
Neither of us knows what's in store
You just roll your window down and place your bets
These are the days we won't regret
These are the days we'll never forget

And these are the days
And these are the days

Love, Molly

Ouch

Dear Molly,

      You've thought long and hard about this: How come people suffer, how come people part, how come people struggle, how come people break your heart? Break your heart? (Thank you, Coldplay, for so eloquently putting feelings into words.)

      No doubt have you suffered. You've obviously struggled. But why, why oh why, do you continue to give your heart away to a person you think of as a friend, again and again, time after time, only to watch it break into a million little pieces? Haven't you learned by now?

      Pouring your feelings out to someone who you think you can count on can be a recipe for having your soul crushed into shards.

      Why do you keep torturing yourself?

      The Answer: You're probably unconsciously hoping that eventually, you'll hit upon a few more people who you actually can trust. People who will never let you down. Maybe you'll find that person through posting this blog entry. Or maybe, just maybe, one of those aforementioned people will reach back out to make amends. You're willing to give second chances, since one thing you never do is quit. You're trying not to push too hard, but you're stubborn. You see things through. You want to just let these people fade into your memory, but that's never going to happen. You're not holding your breath, but you just want answers.

      The truly painful part about all of this is that you're acutely aware you're bumbling, overbearing, and obnoxious. Your mouth runs much faster than your brain. You can be a brutal savage.

      You half joke to yourself "I kill friendships for fun!", if you ever need a reason to beat yourself up. You're not going to make a list of former friendships because that would just plain hurt too much.

*********************************************************************************

      Please, Dear reader, tell me exactly what I did wrong. I don't want to keep making the same mistakes. The whole "It's not you, it's me" bit can't possibly be true. Of course it's me, and you don't like me for being myself. I'm never going to change completely, but I'm beyond willing to adapt. I just want to be liked.

      One of the biggest problems is that most of the time, other people don't understand how deeply I've been hurt and the anguish and grief I have to live with. Pain that only gets stronger with each passing day.

      Or worse yet, people will cut off all contact, either intentionally or not. If someone doesn't reply to a message, my first instinct is that they're consciously avoiding me. And then I feel like a piece of shit, because it's obviously my fault.

      I'll stop at nothing. At this point I'll resort to sending out smoke signals to get an answer.

But before I start setting the world on fire, I'll make some honest attempts in some more conventional ways.

*********************************************************************************

Song of the Day: Welcome to My Life by Simple Plan

While you don't feel this way all of the time, lately, this has sort of turned into College Molly's theme song.

I think some people do know what it's like. For the rest, maybe this post can give them an idea.

Do you ever feel like breaking down?
Do you ever feel out of place?
Like somehow you just don't belong
And no one understands you

Do you ever want to run away?
Do you lock yourself in your room?
With the radio on turned up so loud
That no one hears you screaming

No you don't know what its like
When nothing feels alright
You don't know what its like to be like me
To be hurt, to feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one there to save you
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life

Do you want to be somebody else?
Are you sick of feeling so left out?
Are you desperate to find something more
Before your life is over

Are you stuck inside a world you hate?
Are you sick of everyone around?
With the big fake smiles and stupid lies
But deep inside you're bleeding

No you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels alright
You don't know what it's like to be like me
To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one there to save you
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life

No one ever lied straight to your face
And no one ever stabbed you in the back
You might think I'm happy
But I'm not gonna be okay
Everybody always gave you what you wanted
You never had to work it was always there
You don't know what it's like
What it's like

To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one there to save you
No you don't know what it's like
What it's like

To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life
Welcome to my life
Welcome to my life

Molly