Two years ago this week I was going through one of the roughest times in my life. I was a Junior in high school, 16 years old, and honest to God thought that I had it all planned out.
But, unfortunately, today marks one of the saddest anniversaries that anyone will ever have to experience. This is the day my maternal grandmother was diagnosed with end-stage pancreatic cancer in 2014. Those of you who aren't new here know that she passed away, and that I am also coming upon the two year anniversary of her death. (I don't gloss over and romanticize the event anymore. I don't see the point. She's dead, you know? Like, memorial service done and all that jazz. Aptly grieved for, etc. etc.) In a sick sort of way, I'm more phased by my granddad's passing than I will ever be of my nana's.
Anyways.
This is also almost the two year anniversary of my first blog post.
At the time, I was a writer on a website called "Wattpad." I wrote fan fiction (cringe), short stories and poems (also cringe), and at some point during the duration of my existence on the website made a lifetime friend who is presently messaging me as I type this. (She doesn't know I'm mentioning her though, haha. Hi friend!)
I started pondering my purpose on earth two years ago. I was the most suicidal I've ever been, I didn't see much point in life if you just had to die at the end of it, and I was really pissed off at some people who don't matter enough now to even be specifically mentioned. ("Omg Tori, that's so harsh!" Yeah, well, tough luck.)
My love for journaling overflowed into this nifty little thing that I decided to call a blog.
Basically, I ranted a lot about stuff for the first month. I was impressed when my blog started ranking on the website, and out of thousands of nonfiction works, would be among the top 50 on a weekly basis. People at the high school I went to at the time would pass me in the halls and beg me to write about something. My blog is basically how I survived Trig and French II.
Like, I wrote nonstop.
I was the addict, words were the drug, typing on a platform was my enabler, and I couldn't stop.
I updated extremely often to begin with, had a short stint of weekly posts (I might start back to that again, just a little affectionately named 'tirade' in which I would share my wows and woes of the week at hand), and wrote a slam poem.
Anyways, I started the blog as an outlet. It was the platform where I wanted to tell my story, and I didn't care (and for the most part, still don't care) about my reads or website traffic. I wanted to let people know that they weren't alone. Basically, I imagined that people with equally sucking lives at the time could find solace and companionship through my mindless ranting.
Sometime in 2015...
(Searching Blogger for the exact date, hold up.)
...
...
July 10th! Woo!
I moved my blog to this here website.
I wanted to look more professional, I wanted to be able to write more, and I wanted to be able to view my website trafficking.
I guess it's time to let y'all in on a little secret.
If I were to add the number of times this blog has been read onto a little thing somewhere on my blog? It wouldn't say over 6k. It would be somewhere around 4.6k.
That's because I merge the reads from the old platform and this one. It was read 1,500 times on Wattpad, and so I add that in with this one. The last blog is still up on Wattpad, and I will link it at the bottom of this page for anyone who wants to go have a cringe-fest over on my profile page.
Again, anyways, I started the blog as a public ranting column and nothing more.
It has, since late 2014, evolved from an advice column, poetry platform, and weekly update page... Back to a ranting column. I blame the election. I'll go back to giving advice and stuff after all of the political crap dies down.
My first blog entry (which you can read here) was about my life. My age, my background, and just some of the stuff I've dealt with. I thought that I'd pick up from where I left off, to bring some entertainment to this "blah" day in November.
~
So... Here you go! Part II:
I left off in this little tale of my life at the end of post-7th grade summer.
Let me preface this portion of the story with this: 7th grade was the best time in my life. I met the majority of my now best/close friends. I started thinking about the future. It was a spiritual high for me. Aside from mom getting sick, and some general malaise about school, it was a good time.
8th grade, however, was not.
8th grade was my own personal hell. It was the first year that I ever had to come to terms with serious depression, and it was the first time that I feared for my own safety. I became more aware of real life, and learned very quickly that childhood was a thing of the past. I was thirteen. I came to these conclusions as a thirteen year old.
Despite some people who royally tried to ruin my 8th grade year, I had theatre. Theatre rocked my world. I'd been acting for some time, at least in small ways, but that year ended up being my time to shine. I got a lead in a play with a solo, I went to All County Chorus and qualified for All State, and I made some really good friends. (Molly and Alissa, just to name a couple. Pat was in there too, haha.) It was just... it was my sanctuary.
I also had social studies, and let me tell you, I will never again have a teacher that cares enough about my well-being and education to let me read through class or cry in her classroom so that I didn't have to sit in the bathroom to cry. (Yeah, yeah, yeah. I sound lame. But people really hated me, I was at a low, I struggled to maintain friendships, and it got so bad that I had to go to counseling. Woop!)
One of the reasons I'm not just being a journalist is because of this teacher. She literally is behind so much of the motivation I have to be an educator. I want to be able to impact one or two people the way that she impacted me. To this day, she helps me with college essays and motivates me to get my life together. She also likes Hamilton.
So yes, boys and girls! You can be friends with teachers! Lifelong friends, actually!
Anyways, somehow, I made it through that year. With the assistance of Molly and Pat. They were like, my lifelines. There once was a (CRINGE-WORTHY!!!) love triangle, but like, that's all said and done for and was by the time 9th grade rolled around.
The summer after 8th grade was good. I mean, I spent almost every waking moment with either my family or Pat, went to a waterpark for the first (and only, lol) time, and spent what I didn't know would be my last summer in North Carolina. Also- Grammy had some sort of stroke, WV had bad storms, and I miserably failed at making a volleyball team.
9th grade started out INSANE. Like, the best cliche high school movie you've ever watched on steroids. I had good classes, I read almost every Nicholas Sparks book published at the time, and got good grades. I had theatre, I was surrounded by cool people, and all in all? I loved life.
Yeah... Then in October some very mean people decided to sabotage my family and our happiness, took us to court over irrelevant stuff, threatened to do it again, and then literally told my family that we were disgusting for wanting to maintain some level of privacy.
Needless to say, we moved. Y'all know that much.
My freshman year of high school in WV was a living hell with 3 major exceptions:
1. I got to reconnect with Bethany and hang out with her a lot. Same goes for Hayley. I got to know people in the band, and made some good friends that helped me survive for the next two years.
2. Literally, playing basketball. Yes- I know that I'm really bad at it. Or at least, I was worse then. But I lost weight, found some needed companionship, and had an awesome coach that ended up being the most influential teacher of my high school experience. His APUSH class is the reason I am more than merely hanging on in high school.
3. I got to spend a lot of time with my grandparents, including going to New York City. I cherished that span of time with everyone so much. And little did I know, that those moments would become so much more precious before I even managed to graduate.
Sophomore year was alright. I was a band roadie, I had a boyfriend or two, there was boy drama, Emily was my best friend (from the end of Freshman year carrying over) and we literally drove teachers insane. I was on my school dance team. I learned how to play percussion in concert band, and helped earn a Superior rating at Ratings Festival with a hella timpani solo.
With that being said, I'm gonna end there for now and continue this some other time. Mostly for the spirit of ending on a good note.
~
This blog has come to mean more to me than any other physical object in the known world. The people who read it and have encouraged me through it, and through the things I've dealt with during its duration, and I can never seem to find words to express my levels of gratitude for people who are just- there. Thank you!
Please say some prayers for my family and I, as we go into the next few months. The holiday season is my favorite time of year, but it is kind of hard. Thanksgiving isn't my favorite thing, and I am ready to put Christmas decorations up. Literally, so ready.
Have a blessed and happy week, I love y'all!
-Tori (:
p.s. My throwback for this entry that I mentioned is right here. It's my old blog page for my Wattpad. It has like, 35...? of my posts on it. All of which can be found on this blog now, as well.
p.p.s. I'm Thriving now. It's day 3. I might blog about it in the near future- so look for that!
p.p.p.s. I'm not going to blog about the election for a multitude of reasons. Most of you guys know my religious, political, and social beliefs so I'll leave it at that. I'm also the daughter and granddaughter of veterans, so I maintain certain levels of respect for my country at all times. However, that being said, I'm someone to talk to about any and all things if you need that. I'm here to help in any way that I can.
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