Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Long time no see.

A few months have passed. I have a lot to say, but never enough time to say it.

I'm still not "good", but I'm "better". I'm still trying to come to the terms of Scott's death. He was my everything. I visit his grave at least weekly and keep it full of flowers and decorations. The hardest part of it all is the outlook on life I've been having. I keep thinking that I'm not allowed to love or trust, because every time I try it's ripped out of my stubby little hands without warning. It's just not fair. People always say I'm "strong",'s all bullshit. I'm weak. I'm just really great at putting on the game face and getting over it to move on with life. It's not strength, it's just acceptance. There are three men in this world I've ever trusted, Ryan Dunkelberg, David Moreland, and Scott Estes. One is dead, and the other two are dead to me. I trusted them all, and in their own ways, they are now out of my life. Of course I have people I love now, Callie Burrows and Alexis Sixkiller, Jordan Wilson, Mikala Ross, and Cheyne Romero. Samantha Smith, Thomas Hilbert Sofi Rossainzz, Alex Kitchens, Nathan Crawford and Cody Lusby. But, notice that they're all either girls, gay, just friends, of would rather choose drugs over my problems any day. I realize you guys and gals are there, but I often feel so alone. I feel like I'm always trying to please someone, or bothering you all when I say I need you. To be honest, I don't know what I need, what I want, where I'n going, etc. All I know is that I'm terrified. Utterly terrified.  In a matter of days, I'm going to my hometown in Texas to see old family and friends, then I'll be home for a bit, but shortly after, I will be packing up and moving to Kansas for college. Part of me wants to call this a new start and delete my facebook, change my name and number, and never look back. Part of me wants to never come back to this house simply because it isn't home, nothing is home to me, and the only thing that has ever felt remotely close to one was ripped away from me. The other part of me wants to stay in touch with all of the people I listed above and write them letters, call, and visit them often, but it's just so tiring and exhausting to constantly be trying to please people. Everything I sat and do has to be run through a filter in my mind to make sure it's okay to say that, to make sure I won't hurt anyone. Do you see how that could drive a person insane? To have a title like "the strong girl" to live up to. It would be so much easier to be "the insecure one", or "the depressed one", because then when I say things I have an excuse to have a breakdown, or a mistake, or a little breathing room to my actions and words, but instead I have to be strong and optimistic always or I feel like a failure. And when I am sad, people always think, "it's've been through so much". When am I ever allowed to feel just as depressed about a boy as any other girl would? One with a mom and a family? Am I allowed to feel fat just because? Will people ever stop filtering how they react to me in order to fit my standard of living? 
I can't change my past, but I feel like I need a completely different future, because I am not happy. I am not strong. And the way I'm dealing with things now are not okay, at all. 
I know I need change, I know I need help.
But I feel like there is no one to help me.
Angst angst, and more angst.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Rule #1 of theatre production: You're not late until Nichols finds out.

Sunday, March 20, 2011


Hey world...

I know it's been awhile, so prepare for me to rant.
I'll start off with Scott. Remember the guy I posted about awhile back, Scott Estes? Well...he died. I wish I could flower and sugar coat that and say he "passed away", but that's not how it is. "Passing away" is for 96 year-olds...or a family dog or llama...No...Scott died. At the age of twenty. I love him and he's gone, and to be honest, I haven't even come to terms with it yet.

He was in the hospital for 26 days prior to his death, completely unconscious. I wrote this the day after his accident. The details are all there.

I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Last night, I had a long talk with God. And my friends, he was listening. I always tell my friends that I don't believe in him. Or that I don't know what to believe. Well, I'm a coward. The fact of the matter is, I denied he existed when everything was fine, but when one thing went wrong, the first thing I did was got down on my knees and started praying. Praying to God. And he always listened. But if I keep denying him in front of my friends, he will deny me.
   32 Whoever acknowledges me before others, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven.
33 But whoever disowns me before others, I will disown before my Father in heaven.

Call me ignorant, and stupid for believing in something...but I need it. I need something to believe in for my health. I need to know that someone has a plan for my life. That there's a reason for all of this shit I go through. That my pain and suffering is all going to be healed one day. I need it, and if you are my friend at all, you would understand that.

Most of you know that this is sparked by a recent accident that occurred yesterday morning. The man I consider to be my everything, my brother, my best friend, my hopes, my dreams, and the man I need in my life, fell through a skylight while working. He took the majority of the blow to his head and right side of his upper body. All of his ribs on his right side are shattered. His neck is broken, lower back, broken...right lung collapsed. Left lung filled with fluids and blood. Broken hand, and extensive brain damage. His right side of his skull right above his temple was crushed, causing severe bleeding of the brain in three places. His condition is not the best, but we are all praying for his strong spirit to get him back on his feet again. I know it will. We all love him, and prayers are going up all over the United States and in other countries for him to be well again.
Scott Alex Estes was born on March 19th, 1990. He grew up in Tulsa and joined the United States Air Force at a young age, ready to serve our country, and keep all of you people from ever having to wear his uniform and say "Yes Sir!" He went to school through the Air Force getting his Associate's degree in HVAC, (the people who keep you warm when it's a blizzard, and cool when it's a desert, therefore making Oklahoma the perfect place to work, am I right?) He worked for other companies doing his job, but snagged the job with Airco this past summer. He was excited considering that Airco is one of the best companies in the country when it comes to Heating Ventilation Air Conditioning. He came into my life then too. We always knew we were so much alike it was creepy. Everything from how much we love the sound of a fire, to how good french toast and macaroni can be together. I spent almost every day with him, he told me when he was scared, I told him when I was hurt. And somehow we ended up laughing every time it was time for bed. We went Starbucks all the time, and I would make fun of him because he got the "hot fudge sundae with lots of caramel" drink, while I got coffee, but he was just as sweet as the drink he ordered. He is just so fantastic. Everything about him. His strength, beauty, divine love and passion for what he does to save lives. He wants to be a firefighter and a daddy more than anything on this earth and I want to give him that. I want to give him the world because he deserves it, and the world deserves him, the world needs a Scott Alex Estes. Heaven can have him later, but he was put here for a reason, and he cannot be taken away...not yet. He is my brother, he is my best friend. No one that is reading this will ever understand my relationship with him. All I can tell you is that it is a love like I've never felt before...A love that I am not ready to let go of. And I will not ever give up fighting for. I will take the advice that I know he would give me and put everything into God's hands. I'll pray and pray and pray for his strength to bring him back to us. We all love him. Keep praying for him everyone.

I may not be a family member. I may not be his girlfriend, and I may be young, immature, and seem that I'm not thinking before I speak. But that's just the thing. I don't think...I just do.. I go with what my heart tells me to do. It's another thing that Scott and I have in common. When's the last time you took a chance? Stopped thinking, and just did something because it's what YOU felt like doing? We all tend to take life too seriously, and let this be a lesson that life is too short to take seriously. We all have things to do. But as for me, I wanna grow old and be happy...doing what I want for me. Taking all of your criticism as an opinion you're entitled to, but not as something I'm going to live my life by. I'm me. Scott knows me, I know Scott, and it's nobody's gosh darn business what I do with my life, is it? He knows he holds my heart, he knows. He always will. 

When I take all of that into consideration, all as I'm staring down at his lifeless face, watching his life beep across a screen...I know there is hope. And it's hope that no one here on this earth can give me. It's a weight that no human can hold on their shoulders. It's something only God, the God who took my momma away from me...The God who took my Nan away from me...The God who I know does what he does for a reason, and I know Scott has a reason to live, so me when I say I need to believe. And those of you who do...I need your prayers. I'm calling out for help....I can't lose him, I just can't. He is my everything. I love him. I can't lose him like I did my momma...not like this. It's going to be a long road to recovery, but I'm willing to be there every step of the way Scott. God, give me a miracle, give me my Scotty...give me my heart needs him. Please...anyone but him. Not him. Please.

26 days and over a million prayers later and he's dead. Gone. Bye. He had a funeral and his body was embalmed and buried in the ground to decompose and that it all.

Sure, when I talk to people I'm strong and say, "Everything happens for a reason...and he lived a good life...or now he's with God..." And, I believe all of that. But saying that, and being strong doesn't fill the gaping hole in my chest, or the feeling of my stomach falling out of my butt. It just doesn't fix it. He did live an amazing life. I could go on for hours about the man and what he did in my life in the short time I knew him.
A few of his other friends like to point out how short of a time that was. I realize that I didn't know him as long as they did, but that doesn't mean that what I shared with him didn't mean anything. It did. I love him, and he told me he loved me often. I can't explain or justify what kind of love that was...we were trying to figure that our for ourselves...

Don't get me wrong...I know I wasn't going to marry him or anything, but I could definitely have seen him in my life in someway for a very long time. We had a lot in common, and he helped me with a lot. I looked up to him in many ways, many people do, and always will.

His funeral was weird...his body was embalmed badly...the covered the mole on his face with makeup. I love that mole. He needed a haircut, and couldn't they do the man a favor and shave his face?
 Guess not. Instead lets  put a flag over his casket and then fold it up and hand it to the mother that hasn't been in his life for the past eight years. I feel bad for his mom. She raised such a great young's a shame she didn't even know who he was since the time he was a little kid.
A burial with full military honors is one that will take your heart and put it in a garbage disposal and turn it on high...all while being beautiful. Every one of those gun shots felt like a bullet in my heart. The bagpipes were like little demons laughing at my soul for ever trying to love again...and he trumpet....was the voice of an angel, telling me they'll take care of Scott. Guess this is where that whole "Faith" thing steps in.

Part two: Foundation.

I'm working on building myself back up. From everything. I've spent my whole life creating myself  from the deaths of my family members eight years ago, I had this image of strength. And I achieved it. That's all people ever tell me, "You're so strong!" Well, I don't want it anymore....take your strength back. I need a better foundation. My "strength" was based off of pity. The one thing I always said I didn't want...I've been crying out for all along. I lie..I manipulate...I judge. And I get strength out of it. I'm such a bitch. The things I do and say to people make me stronger. I'm a selfish, heartless, bitch.
 Which is why it is time for a new start. I need to learn to meet people and talk to them with expecting pity within the first ten minutes. The worst thing about the pity I desire is that's it's classified as a false identity of strength pity. I tell people things to make then feel sorry for me for a split second, and then claim that I've overcome it all! Look at me! I don't need your pity! ...and suddenly they think "Wow, she's SO strong..."  See what I did there? Cunning eh? Well...this is where I learn to change that.

"Hello, my name is Meredith. Tell me a little about YOU."
I can do that. get to know people before I throw myself at them. Maybe stop being so damn self-centered for once? Yeah. I'll work on that. That's a start.

Part Three: Stress.
High school is stressing me out. I have a terrible case of Senioritis. I'm in the middle of my last musical to do in high school, and tests are coming up. I fall asleep in class a lot. Meh.

Finances. Ugh. I'm so broke. Because of Scott's accident, funeral, and the musical, I am only working like one day a week..essentially meaning that after taxes, I owe money to my job.

Health. I haven't been to a dentist since I was 6. I have two decaying teeth, tons of cavities, an out of place jaw and severely painful teeth. I've had a sinus infection since November, and I think my body is slowly decaying. I'm always in pain.

Part Four: New Life.

Here are all of the positives in my life!

I'm accepted, enrolled, and financially READY.FOR.COLLEGE.

        It feels great to say that.
I'll be attending Southwestern College this Fall, majoring in Theatre with Emphasis in technical. I am so excited.

I'm going to church regularly again, renewing my faith in God, and feeling great about all of it.
I'm trying to make better decisions as I enter adulthood.
I've lost ten pounds since Christmas. :)

I'm done ranting for now. I now remember why I blog. I feel SO much better. Shower time :)

Love you all.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Frances Inez Chavers

Happy 43rd birthday Momma! You left in flesh when I was nine, but you're in my heart all the time. I'll be seeing you again someday, we'll fly high together, but until that day, I'll stay here on earth, show them what I'm worth, making my momma proud as she watches from her cloud, I'll join her some day then the world will look up and say, "Life is short, live it. You never know when It might be taken away."

Sunday, January 23, 2011

It's been awhile.

There's a lot I could post about, but it's late. So here's some humor. Found this on Adam Young's blog. I love him.


01. “I was spit on by a venomous snake.”
02. “Someone put LSD in my salad.”
03. “A groundhog bit my car tire, causing it to go flat.”
04. “Sorry, I won’t be in for three days. Went to see my sister off on her cruise to the Bahamas… darn ship left with me still on it. Captain refuses to turn back.”
05. “I won’t be in today. My home is flooded and I’m currently standing on the dresser in my second story bedroom. Thanks.”
06. “The blankets were too heavy for me to lift this morning and I was stuck in bed all day.”
07. “I lost my car keys skiing and I can’t leave until I find them.”
08. “Someone dumped a truckload of sand in front of my driveway so I won’t be in today.”
09. “I am stuck in the blood pressure machine at Wal-Mart.”
10. “Hello, I’ve used all of my sick days and I’m calling in dead.”