Before I left Minnesota two years ago, I wrote an emotional
appeal to my friends and family. I
gushed about how much I loved them and asked them to understand as best as they
could why I had to leave. What follows
are my thoughts on my two years of living in Arizona. Sadly, some of the people I urged to dig deep
down within themselves to understand my absence, couldn’t do it, and I lost
them. However, other people I know stood
up and touched my heart across the miles.
So to the ones I lost: I miss you, and I’m sorry you couldn’t understand. To the ones I gained: I love you and I’ll
hold you dear to my heart forever.
My time in Arizona has been, for the most part, good. At first it was hard, but that goes without
saying. When I left Minnesota, I had hit
rock bottom. Not even my closest confidant
knows the extent of what happened to me.
I’ll probably take those details to my grave. I lost my house, I lost my job, I almost lost
my car. If I hadn’t left the state, I
would have lost that, too. I would have
been damned if I had lost my cats, then just kittens. They didn’t deserve to loose anything or live
an unhappy life because of the circumstances I found myself in. Though I had lost everything, I swore to them
I wouldn’t let any harm come to them, and that I’d rather die than let them go
to another home. I’ve kept my promise to
them, and without them, I honestly don’t know if I would be alive right.
At the end of September, 2011, I packed what remained of my
belongings in my car, put my kittens in their carriers, and backed out of my
driveway for the last time. I was scared
and unsure and fairly suicidal, but I drove west towards I-35. I headed south, with only my iPhone’s GPS to
guide me. It took me 8-9 hours to drive
to my first stop, North Platte, Nebraska.
I cried almost the entire way. It
was exhausting. I checked into a seedy,
but peaceful motel, unpacked a couple things and let my kittens loose in the
room, and cried. I had never, and
haven’t since, felt so awful. I called
someone after I ate a cold can of soup I had brought with me. I think it was my mom, though I’m
uncertain. I told this person that I
wanted to kill myself. The person urged
me not to. I said I have nothing, I’m
homeless, I have no one who wants to take me in, why should I keep living? You’ll hurt me and everyone who loves you,
the person on the other end of the line told me. I sobbed.
I looked at my kittens and knew I’d never do anything so stupid as long
as they were around. No one can take
care of them and love them like I can.
I’m their mom, I raised them from the time they were two months
old. I couldn’t imagine anyone else
loving them or potentially abusing them.
I told the person on the end of the line I wouldn’t do it. The person made me promise. And I did.
The next day I woke up.
Still feeling hopeless, but with a bit of a better view of the
world. I had never felt so thankful to
be alive. I may not have anything or
anywhere to live, but I had my life and my kittens. I packed my car up and started on my second
day.
The second day was hard.
I was heading dead south through the eastern edge of Colorado. Even though it was the beginning of fall, it
shot up to well over 90 degrees that day.
It was also the day my air conditioning decided not to work. My cats were overheating and panting. It took me awhile to figure out how to help
them cool down. I decided to stop at a
gas station, I bought some zip-lock bags and ice, poured the ice into the bags,
and stuffed these icey pillows into their cat carriers. It worked.
Crisis averted, although it ate up time I needed to get to my next
destination. After night fall I made it
to Santa Fe, New Mexico. In the dark, it
took awhile to find my way to the hotel, but I finally did. I checked in with no issue, but then the girl
at the desk told me that their hotel only accepts one pet per room. I told her it didn’t say that anywhere when I
made the reservation and that I have two cats with me. Becoming flustered, I said What do you want
me to do, leave one kitten in the car?
She said to bring them both in, but put them in one carrier, as to make
it look like there is only one to sneak them past management. I thanked her, and it worked. That night I had a cup o ramen using ‘hot’
tap water. Mmm, crunchy noodles. I slept well that night, and decided to sleep
in a bit, as the drive to Phoenix wouldn’t be as long as the last two days.
I remember my last day driving as a happy one. My A/C decided to work again, so my descent
into ‘the valley’ was a cool one. I
remember marveling at the changing environment, at the different types of
roadside stores that began to pop up, and at the strength of the sun. I got a serious sunburn through my tinted
windows on that drive. I stopped in
Gallop, New Mexico and called my mom to give her an update on my status. The history buff side of me was thrilled to
be on historic Route 66. When I stopped
again I was in Payson, Arizona, surrounded by pine trees and curvy, insane
roads. The descent through the mountains
down into the valley was insane. My car
was packed to the brim, weighing God knows how much, and I was riding my breaks
the whole way down the curving mountain roads for probably close to an
hour. I was scared of this part, though
I knew I was almost to my mom’s house in Gilbert, Arizona. I thought she might be happy to see me.
I think she was at first.
At first she thought my cats and I were a trivial joy. That came to an end rather quickly. After about a week, she HATED my cats. They were just babies, getting into the trouble
that babies do, and she hated them. I
had dedicated my life, literally, to these babies, and the way she treated them
broke my heart. At first I didn’t say
anything. I had basically invited myself
and my cats to stay at her house when I had no options left in Minnesota. She never invited me to stay there. I had asked her. She couldn’t say no, although now, I feel that
deep down she WANTED to say no. But an
answer of ‘no’ would have likely landed me in a homeless shelter somewhere.
I tried to keep my mouth shut out of respect for her taking
me in when she didn’t really want to.
Near the end of my stay there, all of the time I had been keeping my
emotions inside came to an end, and I finally blew up. I was angry constantly, and we got into
several huge fights. I stayed there for
a total of 3 months, and after that experience, I vowed to never stay with
anyone ever again. No roommate, no live
in boyfriend, nothing. I’d rather fend
for myself than deal with someone else’s bullshit, especially when it comes to
my cats. You can fuck with me all you
want, but don’t fuck with my cats. They
are defenseless and don’t mean you any harm.
I know a couple people in Minnesota offered for me to stay with them
when I moved back, and I appreciate it, but you have to know where I’m coming
from after reading this story.
For what seemed like a long time, I had no money. I tried to find a job with no success at
first. It really is the worst feeling to
see all your bills go unpaid. The one
bill I had to keep paying was my (crazy huge) car payment. I couldn’t keep up on it with zero money
coming in. I swallowed my pride and
called my friend Ryan. He lent me enough
money to catch up my car bill. He might
not know how much that means to me. You
saved my ass, Ryan. Really. I believe it was on Halloween of 2011. Even though I’m sure he had a big get
together to plan and orchestrate, he sat on the phone with me for quite some
time to work it out. Without that car,
my job prospects would have been thrown out the window. I soon got a job I hated but kept as long as
I could until I was offered a good job in November.
I will remember forever, however, when I first walked into
my grandma’s apartment, probably a couple days after I got into town. She had no idea I was coming. She turned around and with a look of shock on
her face said, “What are you doing here?”
We laughed. When she spoke to my
mom later that day, she had said, “Erin looks just like her daddy.” I take that as a great compliment. Those words haven’t left me. Grandma turned into the anchor that kept me
here so long, and she turned into my heart.
I ended up seeing her at least once a week for the entire two years I
lived here and I helped in whatever way I could. After a bout in the hospital she hugged and
kissed me and said, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” No one has EVER said that to me. Ever.
I love her and it tears me apart to leave her. Just knowing later this week will be the last
time I might ever see her brings tears to my eyes.
Though I had very little money and no friends to gather
around me, I decided to splurge a bit and I bought a ticket to see
Puscifer. They were playing on my 30th
birthday at the Mesa Arts Center and I couldn’t think of any better way to
celebrate my entering a new age than with a beer and Maynard James Keenan. It was a high point in an otherwise dismal
situation.
In January of 2012, I moved out of my mom’s house and into
an apartment in Mesa, Arizona. A whole
new round of problems began and I felt like I was being punished for
something. Maybe I was (but that’s a
whole other story). First, I moved in
and quickly found out the apartment they gave me had bedbugs. It doesn’t sound like a huge deal, I realize
that. But I wouldn’t wish bedbugs on my
worst enemy. It’s horrible. Not only do you have rows of three bites all
over your body that burn like hell’s fire, but since they only come out at
night, you never see them. Thus, I was
terrified to sleep. It physically sucks,
but it was psychologically draining. I had
to spend an insanely large amount of time, effort, energy, and money getting
rid of them. About a month later they
were gone.
Then the first rent check I turned in got stolen. Oh, I didn’t need that hundreds of dollars
anyway. Thanks a lot, you ghetto ass
apartment building.
In February of 2012, I decided it was time to try to get my
Master’s degree again. Oh yeah, I forgot
to mention. Not only had I lost
everything in Minnesota, but I had flunked out of graduate school. If you know me, the perfectionist, straight A
diligent student, that was a huge blow.
I had never failed anything in my academic life. So it was actually a hard decision to begin
again and start from scratch. Self doubt
really had a hold on me for a long time, but I decided to go for it. I’m glad I did. I began a Master of Science program at Grand
Canyon University. I ended the program
with a near perfect GPA of 3.93. Booyah,
self-doubt!
Of course, this entire time I was having money
problems. My rock bottom life in Minnesota
needed to be taken care of, so I was trying to pay off bills and collections
agencies and the like left and right. It
left very little for rent. I had snagged
a decent job, which I still have, in November 2011 which helped a lot. I had also accepted a weekend job at a
courier company. So if you ever wonder
if I’m lazy, just think of the days when I did graduate school full time and
had two jobs all while piecing my life back together. Nope, I’m not lazy. I did everything in my power to piece everything
back to a life one would consider ‘decent’.
I am indebted to several people for helping me when I was
between a rock and hard place for the end of 2011 and the beginning of
2012. I already mentioned Ryan, but I
need to thank him again. Katie, Jarrod,
Mark, and Jen also helped me more than they know. Gordy also sent me a package of CDs when I
first got here in 2011. I loved them,
and I thank you if you’re reading this. You
guys really know how to make a girl feel loved, even from 1600 miles away.
In April of 2012, I went to Minnesota for a visit. With financial aid coming in, I felt like I
could finally afford it. It was a great
trip, one I will never forget. I’ll
always remember the first time I saw Katie at the airport. I had just sat the Phoenix airport on standby
ALL DAY (I got there at 6am, I finally got on a plane after 5pm). I was exhausted and had been crying most of
the day. I hadn’t been on a plane in years,
so I was scared shitless and was almost sick on the plane. I was ragged looking, red face, messed up
hair, sweated through clothes. I was
walking from the baggage claim lost in thought when I looked up and saw Katie
running towards me. I hugged her and
just cried of happiness. I love my
sister more than anyone else.
In May 2012 I got an unexpected invitation that would change
my life. My friend Louise, who I had met
in 2001 in Vancouver, where she lives, for the World Figure Skating
Championships, was heading to Las Vegas with a couple girl friends. Since I lived in Phoenix, which is only about
a 6 hour drive from Vegas, she wanted to know if I wanted to meet her
there. I couldn’t refuse. I hadn’t seen her for 11 years, so I was
nervous, but when I first saw her it was like all those years hadn’t kept us
apart and we picked up where we left off.
It was great! Without my move to
Phoenix, I think Louise and I would never have gotten so close as we are
now. We went to Vegas again together in
August 2012 and then I met her and her family in Los Angeles for a trip to
Disneyland in August 2013. She has
helped me in so many ways with all the trials and tribulations I’ve found
myself struggling with during my time in Arizona. She’d listen to me, off advice when I needed
it, helped me moneywise several times, encouraged my writing, helped foster my
undying love for Phantom of the Opera, dealt with all my (many) fangirl
moments, helped me through my depressive episodes, and was just an all around
great friend. I am proud to call her my
BFF now and I look forward to an ever growing friendship. I hope to see her sometime again soon!
November 2012 changed my life. I took part in National Novel Writing Month
and wrote 50,000+ words in 30 days. This
did many things for me. First, it helped
me realize the power of peer support when it comes to writing. It is invaluable. Second, it helped me realize that, yes, I CAN
do it! The end result wasn’t my best
piece of writing ever (I’m working on one now that I hope will be the nearest
to perfection to date) but it got my mind working and it got my creative juices
flowing. Best of all, and thirdly, it
made me brave enough to put my work out there.
I self-published this novel in May 2013 for several reasons. First, because I could. I never wanted to make a ton of money or
anything. I knew it wasn’t that
good. But I wanted my friends and family
to read it. So… mission
accomplished. Second, I had to do it by
the end of April in order to get 5 free printed copies of it. Dumb, sure, but by god I wanted those free
copies. It was a hard lesson in what
constitutes good writing and what doesn’t, but it is one I think one can only
learn by letting others read what you’ve written. You don’t realize what mistakes or missteps
you’ve taken until others can look it over, critique it, and view it through
completely unbiased eyes. This was a
hard lesson to take in but well worth it.
I know now how much more growth I require, and the extent of ‘sky’s the
limit’ thrills me to no end. Now, I’ve
published countless articles with various magazines and websites, I’ve had more
of my poetry published and I’m working on another novel which I actually plan
to pitch to publishers. Very exciting
time for me. Plus, in an attempt to hone
my craft, I am in an MFA program for creative writing. I’ve already written a flash fiction piece
which got a very positive reception and I’ve just written my first short
screenplay. None of this would have
happened if I hadn’t moved to Arizona.
NONE.
Side note: While in Arizona, I inadvertently quit
smoking. I think being so isolated took
all the ‘fun’ and ‘social’ aspects out of it, so I just stopped. I haven’t smoked for a year and a half. Yay for quitting bad habits!
By the beginning of 2013, I was just beginning to settle
into a not-so-dismal financial and emotional state. My brother John came to Arizona for a visit
and it was great! I had missed him a
lot. He got to celebrate my grandma’s 95th
birthday with us and it was a ton of fun.
Now, here’s the time when I realized something big. Like… it changed my attitude about Arizona in
a major way. I knew from the time I got
here that I was different in fundamental ways from my family that lives down
here. I am not religious in any way,
shape or form. I call myself an atheist
with no hesitation. Nothing you or
anyone else can say will ever, EVER change my mind on this. My family in Arizona are all Mormon, for the
most part. I accept that, and love them
all just the same. I do. Your religion doesn’t define who you are. That’s just a small piece of you. If you are my flesh and blood, I will
automatically love you.
I found near the beginning of 2013 that this sentiment was
not reciprocated by several of my Mormon family members.
I will bring up one family member specifically. I already told her this, to her face, so I am
not talking behind her back or whatever.
My aunt Connie decided to quit talking to me because of some of the
things I post on Facebook. Really? Because I feel I have the right to speak my
mind and use whatever language I see fit, that’s enough to not love me? Wow.
And she calls herself a good Christian.
Please. I’m pretty sure if Jesus
had been there to witness her utter lack of love for her own flesh and blood,
over something so petty, he would have been more than disappointed. I’m an atheist, I have tattoos, I curse, I
listen to metal music, I like movies that use foul language… but I also accept
people for who they are, I have compassion and empathy, I give to charity, I
love animals, I get emotional when I think I may have hurt someone… but I’m the
devil incarnate and I don’t deserve to associate with ‘righteous’ people such as
herself. Awesome. A couple other family members also lectured
me to my face about my tattoos and my choices.
At a certain point, I cracked. So
much hate flowing towards me, all aimed at a girl that keeps to herself and
tries to do good. I couldn’t fathom
it. The reasoning behind it was
flawed. I struggled with it for a long
time. I finally decided they are not
worth it. If I did not see these family
members again, I would not be heart broken.
My grandma has been more than welcoming and loving and hospitable to
me. Uncle Ray has been nice, so has my
cousin Kenna, and my aunt Sue and uncle Al.
That’s all I’m going to say about that.
No, wait. One more
thing. Because of this, I’ve learned to
not take people who love me for granted.
My family back in Minnesota… Be warned.
I’m gonna love you and appreciate you with all my heart. I’ve already made plans to see several of
them. It might be a teary reunion, but
one I look forward to with every ounce of my being.
I will miss some things about the great state of Arizona in
general. Being so close to cool shit, like
Vegas, the Grand Canyon, and San Diego rank among them. I am very thankful I got to see as much of
this beautiful state as I did. The
wildlife here are amazing. I was able to
see a bunch of them: a pack of havelina, roadrunners, quail, vultures, scorpions,
lizards. I discovered there is such a
thing as a jumping spider. I was also
able to see my fair share of dust devils.
I LOVE dust devils and would get a huge goofy grin whenever I’d see one
out in the boonies of the desert. Once
one made its way across the road and right over my car. It was fantastic. I got to drive up into Globe and Superior,
all the way out to Safford, and around into Tucson many, many times. Seeing Piccacho Peak off the I-10 coming (or
going) to Phoenix was incredible. I’ll
always have soft spot for that mountain.
Seeing Superstition Mountain in the distance whenever I wanted to was
great. It is so beautiful. South Mountain and Camelback Mountain are
also cool. The Red Mountains near where
I live in Mesa are awesome. Being able
to take part in several acting projects also ranks among some of my most fond
memories, and those opportunities will be sorely missed. The mild winters, no ice or snow, and a
wardrobe consisting mainly of flip flops and tank tops will also be missed
(though I do welcome the comeback of wearing hoodies, scarves, and mittens!). Authentic Mexican food, cacti, washes, cell
towers disguised as palm trees (ha!), regular palm trees, and sunsets…. Oh, my
god sunsets down here are one of the most amazing things I’ve seen in my
life. I’m so glad I decided to carry on
with my life that dark, low night in North Platte, Nebraska. Although much of my time in Arizona was
struggling to be human again, some of the wondrous sights and experiences I
wouldn’t trade for anything.
For many reasons I don’t care to go into, I didn’t make a
lot of friends. A lot of it had to do
with my lack of money, some of it had to do with my extreme lack of
self-confidence and a low self-image (I still have that low self-image thing
going on), but the bottom line is I didn’t make many friends. Wait… I didn’t really make ANY friends down
here. As hard as it was to isolate
myself, I felt I needed to in order to focus on myself and get my shit right. There was no way I could have made time for
friends, so in a way I am glad I could see that and decided to focus solely on
myself and my recovery. On the other
hand, I felt like I was literally in solitary confinement for two years. I’m nervous that my friends and family back
home won’t understand this and my resulting psychological issues. I’m used to being alone, and I’ve found that
I get irritated very easily with other people.
I’ve also developed a pretty good sized social anxiety, which I’m taking
care of with a doctor. It got so bad at
one point that in crowds, or in situations where there was no clear escape, I
would have a full blown panic attack.
Even going to the movies would give me a panic attack. Thank god I’ve gotten that under control but
I need to ease back into being super social again. It’ll take time and I hope my slow progress
towards that goal doesn’t deter even more friends from wanting to be around me.
I think I pissed a lot of people off by my lack of contact,
or at least by my lack of actual phone calls.
I don’t expect anyone to understand this, but to me, talking on the
phone caused me too much pain. In my
heart, talking on the phone is just a big tease. I’d much rather talk in person. So, talking on the phone when I know I won’t
be able to see you for god knows how long was heart wrenching, and would always
plunge me into a deep depression. It’s
not your fault! Don’t think that my not
calling you was for anything you did. It
just caused me so much heart ache to hear your voice and know I couldn’t see
you. But now that I’m coming back to
Minnesota, there are a few of you who might get sick of my voice after awhile!
The entire time I’ve lived here, I was single. I met a few guys, but I just felt “meh” about
all of them. I wasn’t ready to
date. Not even close. And for the first time in my life, I was able
to admit I wasn’t ready and that the best decision for my recovery was to take
time off and just get to know myself.
And you know what? It was
awesome. Being single for two years made
me love ME again. I realized that I don’t
need a romantic relationship to be ‘whole’.
A relationship isn’t finding your other half. It’s finding someone to augment your
happiness, to add to it in a meaningful way.
No other human should fill a void.
You should fill your own void.
Once you know and love yourself, then you can find someone to add on to
your huge stack of ‘happy’ you already have.
It took me 30 years to realize this, but I’m glad I finally realized
what I was doing wrong.
A few weeks ago, I was talking to my mom, and she asked,
“Your time here in Arizona wasn’t all bad, right?” Of course it wasn’t all bad. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Sometimes I wish I had stayed in Minnesota…
but it just didn’t happen. Now, less
than a week from today, I’ll be making my journey back. All the money, time, and planning it has
taken to coordinate this move has been extremely stressful. But it’ll be worth it in the end. As dumb as it sounds, one thing that pushed
me out the door and on my way to Arizona was the journey of Frodo and Sam in
the Lord of the Rings (nerd alert!).
They weren’t sure what they were getting themselves into, they were
venturing out into lands they had never seen before. As Sam said, “If I take one more step, this
will be the furthest from the Shire I have ever been.”
The line that really got me, though, was this: “By rights we
shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo.
The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And
sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy?
How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened?
But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must
pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the
clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something,
even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do
understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning
back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.”
And so I went on my journey to Mordor, to cast into the
fires of Mount Doom my disastrous past.
I didn’t think I’d make it through, but I did. I had lots of chances to turn back, only I
didn’t. I kept going. Thank you, Samwise Gamgee.
As I make my journey home now, Sam’s voice still echoes in
my head: “Do you remember the Shire, Mr. Frodo? It'll be spring soon. And the
orchards will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the hazel
thicket. And they'll be sowing the summer barley in the lower fields... and
eating the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of
strawberries?”
