Entry IV: This Lesson You'd Do Well Not To Forget

A lot has happened in the last few weeks, and I'll explain it all in the next few updates. For now, it's enough for me to tell you that I have a lot of free time on my hands now, and I've attempted to use it wisely.

Throughout the latest trials and such, I've grown a lot as a person, I think. In situations where I used to cringe and cower, I now have confidence. Where I used to hide behind cryptic words and vague metaphors, I now speak openly and relate obviously... though usually abstractly (because that's just what I do!).

Some lyrics by Thrice have been in my mind consistently throughout my situations. They come from the song Kings Upon the Main, from the first verse:

This lesson you'd do well not to forget:
Your life could be the one its wisdom saves
At sea when you're beleaguered and beset
On every side by strife of wind and waves

As life seemed to spiral out of my control, the thought came to me: I wasn't living my life. I was living life for other people. Maybe wonderful people, but people who remain just people, nonetheless. People that would make mistakes. Who would disappoint me. I was tired of living based on what people expected of me. I can't be perfect for everyone, and I don't know why I expected myself to be so.

Now, I don't even think of my relationships like that. No longer do I hang around people because I think they would want it - I'm there because I want it. No longer do I show that I care because I feel obligated to care, I want to care for people who are in pain, who are hurting. I guess that's one reason why I started writing this down: so that I could help those who, like me, aren't perfect.

I encourage you, now; don't forget that "your life could be the one its wisdom saves." It literally saved mine. As someone who was unquestionably suicidal, these lines mean a good deal to me. I know that may seem surprising to some, but it's true. And it's not the only issue that plagues me at this point, but again, more on that later. I'm tired of hiding. I'm tired of being someone I'm not. Through these past few weeks I discovered that I could either let life keep happening to me, or let myself live it, knowing that I would find both parts pain and beauty in it.

Entry I: Artist in the Ambulance

When the idea to write a blog popped into my head, I was surprised. Extremely surprised. I'm not the kind of person to write down musings and post said musings on the internet where any person can read them. The idea developed (as such ideas often do) in the back of my mind, whispering to my cerebral cortex. I tried to push it away forcefully, as again, I'm not that kind of person. I thought about it all day, and it seems like it will be a good idea for me to at least let someone know what's going on inside what used to be the locked cage of my mind.

Now, someone will ask the question of me: "if you're such a private person, why give your sorry and boring thoughts out to the rest of the world?" Good question! I'm glad you asked. The answer, in short, is that I no longer want to be a person who struggles on the inside; I'm sick of not trusting people. I know that there will be pain and hurt from what I say here, but that there will also be freedom in the truths that I want to say.

In the blog, I plan on discussing my personal life, in the hopes that I can reach out to other hurting people. I also wish to discuss culture with a critical eye - analyzing it for the sake of those that wish it to be analyzed. In time, I might also discuss things such as what I'm reading, writing, and thinking.

Before I end this message, I'd like to talk about two last things: my blogging name and the name of the blog. Both are derived from Thrice songs, and I'd like to talk a few seconds on why I chose them.

First, Artist in the Ambulance means a great deal to me. It's a song about an artist who has gotten in a car crash due to drinking and other bad decisions. The artist wakes up in an ambulance and knows that this could be "so much more than flashing lights and sound." In other words, this accident could be a symbol of a turning point in the artist's life. Having recently gone through an event similar to this, I feel a deep connection to the artist. This blog is meant to be a step that makes my situation become more than just flashing lights and sound.

Second, I chose the name "raise your ragged sail" because it is another symbol of where I think I'm at now. It's taken from a song called Kings Upon the Main. Thrice wrote it from the perspective of the waters of the Earth as a message to humanity. It simply says that nothing, no man or fleet, is secure upon the seas, even though many have tried. Most of the song continues almost as a warning to humanity against pride. However, the last two lines give hope to me: "But grace can still be found within the gale; with fear and reverence, raise your ragged sail." Because the waters in this song are such an unconquerable force, it reminds me of God, and the way we should interact with him. Not with pride and conceit, thinking that we can control God - but in fear and in reverence.

I may not have much anymore. I may be disgraced. I may be broken. But that's not going to change the fact that I must do what is right. Therefore, in fear and reverence, I raise my ragged sail and set out into the seas of life.