I'm leaving for London today, so I thought it would be a good idea to post an update. First of all, thank you to everyone who sent me well wishes. It helped a lot to know that so many people around the world actually care (and actually read my blog!).
I'm slowly but surely working my way back up. It was actually a chance Facebook post that I saw which helped me the most. I don't want to go into detail because the person would be easily identified, but I have to say that he inspired me and reminded me that this is not hopeless. So if he can do it, I can do it.
There are always brighter days ahead. I can't say when or how or why, but I know that they're out there, somewhere, and I just have to keep on moving towards them.
I found this song today after looking up some lyrics I had written down in my little notebook ages ago. Hope you enjoy it. Duran Duran - All You Need Is Now
Be back in a week. With pictures :) And hopefully brand new awesome stories to tell.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Maybe
I don't know where to start with this. I've been avoiding writing this post because I had nothing constructive to say. But things aren't getting better and now getting this out there is kind of my last ditch effort to force myself to change.
I went to Belgium for Tomorrowland and the trip was... one of the worst experiences of my life. We left hours late because of bad planning and miscommunication. We rented a car for the 8 hour drive, and the car we ended up with was some sort of Audi station wagon. It's a great car, but just not big enough for five people and all of their camping gear. So I was cramped and uncomfortable the entire ride. When we finally arrived it was 10pm, which is when they close the campground for new arrivals. We were only just barely able to squeak in. Once into the campground though, we had another nightmare to face. There was absolutely nowhere left to pitch our tents. Our bags were heavy, I was hungry and tired, and not one person in that campground had a single kind or encouraging word. I'd be walking past people's sites and they'd yell at me to go away, there's no space here, even though I hadn't stopped walking. Security finally let us move a fence back a few feet so we could pitch our tents in front of it, which just caused more issues with the people already set up there, as they had apparently asked to do the same thing earlier and been denied. So it was nearing midnight and we finally had a place to sleep, at the very least. After setting up and eating a bit of dinner I decided to go to bed. I thought a good night's sleep would help set me on the right path to enjoy the rest of the weekend. When I finally laid down it was 2am.
At 4am I sat upright in my sleeping bag, suddenly awake for some reason that I was too groggy to determine. Those of you who know me well know that I can sleep through anything. Alarm clocks, noisy pets, noisy people, lights, sounds, anything. But that night I woke up. After a second I noticed a clicking noise and that there were people unnecessarily close to the tent I was sharing with a friend. I crawled out of the tent to see what was happening and found all of the people from the next site over (the ones who already had an issue with us) plus a few other Germans standing next to our tent. Now something you need to know is that this festival is all about love, unity, and the future. They encourage you to bring flags from your home to hang on or near your tents so that we can celebrate the global presence. So next to our tent we had an American, a New Zealand, and a German flag. When I crawled out of the tent, the New Zealand flag was already gone. But that group of Germans was all standing there trying to start my American flag on fire. In a crowded campground where 60,000 people were staying. Where (extremely flammable) tents were pushed against each other as far as you could see. When I saw what was happening, I yelled. A couple of the people ripped my flag from where it was hanging and ran. The others, our neighbors, just stood there. I tried to talk to them, but they pretended they didn't speak English, which I know is wrong, because they'd spoken to me in English earlier. So I tried German with them. They still refused to talk to me. There was nothing I could do, so I crawled back into the tent, shaking with fear, frustration, anger. My friend, who is German, asked what was going on. I explained, and she decided to go talk with them. They told her that they hadn't seen anything. That they had come over in time to save the German flag at least, so what else did it matter?
I didn't sleep more than 10 to 15 minutes at a time the rest of that night. I was scared. Those people hated me. They never even met me, but they hated me. Enough that they were willing to put my life, and the life of all those around me, in danger. For something that I didn't choose to be, for decisions and actions that I didn't make, those people were willing to risk us all just to prove their hatred.
The rest of the trip never stood a chance. Between my bad experience and bad company, there was nothing I could do. I tried my hardest to enjoy the shows. I spent a lot of time on my own. I couldn't enjoy the atmosphere. I couldn't connect with anyone around me. All I could think was that someone in that crowd wanted to hurt me. They wanted me not enjoy a moment of this. And unfortunately, they succeeded.
A lot of pictures were taken that weekend. If you just looked at the pictures you'd almost believe that I had a great time. But that's partially due to the fact that we didn't tell one of our group members about the encounter. We just told her the flags were stolen. Our friendship was already suffering due to her constant put downs toward Americans and generally negativity. I couldn't have handled any further comments from her.
I had been warned before not to flaunt my nationality. I knew this. I knew that there were a lot of places where it was dangerous to be an American. But I thought that in just this one instance it would be ok to display who I was. I thought it would be ok to participate and be open and free. I guess I was wrong.
When we finally drove home on Monday, I was done. I hadn't slept the entire weekend. I was dirty, sore from sleeping on the ground, and exhausted. Unfortunately we got lost on the way home and ended up being in that car for almost 10 hours. All I wanted was out.
Since coming home I haven't been able to get back into my routine. I haven't been able to make life work right again. What happened hurt me, in a way I never thought was possible. I know that I shouldn't personally be offended, and I don't think that that is the problem. I think what those people did was far worse than insult me or my country. They broke me. They broke everything I believed in. I used to see a world full of hope. A world where I could do anything. Love could heal anything and whatever I dreamed was possible if I just worked hard enough. But I can't see that anymore. I've tried so hard over the last two weeks. I've tried everything that's worked for me when I was homesick or just down before. But nothing has helped. When I look at the world now all I see is hatred. Blind hatred. And stupidity. How can anything ever get better when so many people are so consumed by that anger and closed mindedness? I used to think that my generation would be the one to change the world. That things could only get better. Now all I see is hopelessness. It's hard to find a reason to carry on each day when chances are some crazy person is going to open fire on you while you're innocently trying to enjoy a movie or blow up your airplane for some ridiculous half cocked religious belief.
I've never wanted to be the cynic. I've always been able to find something to believe in. But I can't get past this. I'm leaving for London in 5 days and I'm not even excited. That's how I know something is wrong. Travel used to exhilarate me. I used to love nothing more than seeing a new place. Now I don't even want to go. I'm afraid all I'll meet there is hatred.
Before moving here I never even gave a second thought to the fact that I was born in the United States. I was grateful not to have been born into a some third world country where I might have died or been sold into slavery before I was even a teenager. I was grateful for the things I had growing up. But I never ever thought of myself as superior or all knowing. I was just me. Now I'm Sierra, the American. And that includes all sorts of burdens that I'm not prepared to carry.
This is the hardest thing I've ever faced. It's changed who I was, but left me hanging in this state of limbo where I have no idea what to believe or to feel. All I want anymore is to go home. I want to lay on the couch and watch mindless TV and pretend that my world hasn't shattered. But I know that's not an option. I'll have to find some way to redefine myself and my beliefs. I just don't know what that way is right now.
Tomorrow I will pick myself up and go outside. I'll do all of the day to day errands that life requires. I might do something new, maybe some sightseeing. I won't be ok yet, but maybe I can start pretending. Maybe then, before I know it, things will balance out again. Maybe life will redefine itself and the world will be a brighter place again. I don't know for sure, but maybe. Just maybe. At least that much I can still hope for.
I went to Belgium for Tomorrowland and the trip was... one of the worst experiences of my life. We left hours late because of bad planning and miscommunication. We rented a car for the 8 hour drive, and the car we ended up with was some sort of Audi station wagon. It's a great car, but just not big enough for five people and all of their camping gear. So I was cramped and uncomfortable the entire ride. When we finally arrived it was 10pm, which is when they close the campground for new arrivals. We were only just barely able to squeak in. Once into the campground though, we had another nightmare to face. There was absolutely nowhere left to pitch our tents. Our bags were heavy, I was hungry and tired, and not one person in that campground had a single kind or encouraging word. I'd be walking past people's sites and they'd yell at me to go away, there's no space here, even though I hadn't stopped walking. Security finally let us move a fence back a few feet so we could pitch our tents in front of it, which just caused more issues with the people already set up there, as they had apparently asked to do the same thing earlier and been denied. So it was nearing midnight and we finally had a place to sleep, at the very least. After setting up and eating a bit of dinner I decided to go to bed. I thought a good night's sleep would help set me on the right path to enjoy the rest of the weekend. When I finally laid down it was 2am.
At 4am I sat upright in my sleeping bag, suddenly awake for some reason that I was too groggy to determine. Those of you who know me well know that I can sleep through anything. Alarm clocks, noisy pets, noisy people, lights, sounds, anything. But that night I woke up. After a second I noticed a clicking noise and that there were people unnecessarily close to the tent I was sharing with a friend. I crawled out of the tent to see what was happening and found all of the people from the next site over (the ones who already had an issue with us) plus a few other Germans standing next to our tent. Now something you need to know is that this festival is all about love, unity, and the future. They encourage you to bring flags from your home to hang on or near your tents so that we can celebrate the global presence. So next to our tent we had an American, a New Zealand, and a German flag. When I crawled out of the tent, the New Zealand flag was already gone. But that group of Germans was all standing there trying to start my American flag on fire. In a crowded campground where 60,000 people were staying. Where (extremely flammable) tents were pushed against each other as far as you could see. When I saw what was happening, I yelled. A couple of the people ripped my flag from where it was hanging and ran. The others, our neighbors, just stood there. I tried to talk to them, but they pretended they didn't speak English, which I know is wrong, because they'd spoken to me in English earlier. So I tried German with them. They still refused to talk to me. There was nothing I could do, so I crawled back into the tent, shaking with fear, frustration, anger. My friend, who is German, asked what was going on. I explained, and she decided to go talk with them. They told her that they hadn't seen anything. That they had come over in time to save the German flag at least, so what else did it matter?
I didn't sleep more than 10 to 15 minutes at a time the rest of that night. I was scared. Those people hated me. They never even met me, but they hated me. Enough that they were willing to put my life, and the life of all those around me, in danger. For something that I didn't choose to be, for decisions and actions that I didn't make, those people were willing to risk us all just to prove their hatred.
The rest of the trip never stood a chance. Between my bad experience and bad company, there was nothing I could do. I tried my hardest to enjoy the shows. I spent a lot of time on my own. I couldn't enjoy the atmosphere. I couldn't connect with anyone around me. All I could think was that someone in that crowd wanted to hurt me. They wanted me not enjoy a moment of this. And unfortunately, they succeeded.
A lot of pictures were taken that weekend. If you just looked at the pictures you'd almost believe that I had a great time. But that's partially due to the fact that we didn't tell one of our group members about the encounter. We just told her the flags were stolen. Our friendship was already suffering due to her constant put downs toward Americans and generally negativity. I couldn't have handled any further comments from her.
I had been warned before not to flaunt my nationality. I knew this. I knew that there were a lot of places where it was dangerous to be an American. But I thought that in just this one instance it would be ok to display who I was. I thought it would be ok to participate and be open and free. I guess I was wrong.
When we finally drove home on Monday, I was done. I hadn't slept the entire weekend. I was dirty, sore from sleeping on the ground, and exhausted. Unfortunately we got lost on the way home and ended up being in that car for almost 10 hours. All I wanted was out.
Since coming home I haven't been able to get back into my routine. I haven't been able to make life work right again. What happened hurt me, in a way I never thought was possible. I know that I shouldn't personally be offended, and I don't think that that is the problem. I think what those people did was far worse than insult me or my country. They broke me. They broke everything I believed in. I used to see a world full of hope. A world where I could do anything. Love could heal anything and whatever I dreamed was possible if I just worked hard enough. But I can't see that anymore. I've tried so hard over the last two weeks. I've tried everything that's worked for me when I was homesick or just down before. But nothing has helped. When I look at the world now all I see is hatred. Blind hatred. And stupidity. How can anything ever get better when so many people are so consumed by that anger and closed mindedness? I used to think that my generation would be the one to change the world. That things could only get better. Now all I see is hopelessness. It's hard to find a reason to carry on each day when chances are some crazy person is going to open fire on you while you're innocently trying to enjoy a movie or blow up your airplane for some ridiculous half cocked religious belief.
I've never wanted to be the cynic. I've always been able to find something to believe in. But I can't get past this. I'm leaving for London in 5 days and I'm not even excited. That's how I know something is wrong. Travel used to exhilarate me. I used to love nothing more than seeing a new place. Now I don't even want to go. I'm afraid all I'll meet there is hatred.
Before moving here I never even gave a second thought to the fact that I was born in the United States. I was grateful not to have been born into a some third world country where I might have died or been sold into slavery before I was even a teenager. I was grateful for the things I had growing up. But I never ever thought of myself as superior or all knowing. I was just me. Now I'm Sierra, the American. And that includes all sorts of burdens that I'm not prepared to carry.
This is the hardest thing I've ever faced. It's changed who I was, but left me hanging in this state of limbo where I have no idea what to believe or to feel. All I want anymore is to go home. I want to lay on the couch and watch mindless TV and pretend that my world hasn't shattered. But I know that's not an option. I'll have to find some way to redefine myself and my beliefs. I just don't know what that way is right now.
Tomorrow I will pick myself up and go outside. I'll do all of the day to day errands that life requires. I might do something new, maybe some sightseeing. I won't be ok yet, but maybe I can start pretending. Maybe then, before I know it, things will balance out again. Maybe life will redefine itself and the world will be a brighter place again. I don't know for sure, but maybe. Just maybe. At least that much I can still hope for.
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