Someone told me that for every negative word you hear, it takes seven positive words to combat it.
I wonder if that works for memories.
If so, I’m gonna need some great ones. I’m talking a trip to New Zealand. No, better make that Narnia. Complete with talking animals. And they better say some really nice things to me. Maybe even listen to some of my songs, clap real hard after each one, too.
Because there are some things that I will never forget. They won’t hurt so much, maybe. No, definitely. They won’t hurt so much, definitely.
But I will always remember them. My mind will always be drawn to these memories with the kind of fascination reserved for the very awful; like how you can’t look away when you drive by a bad accident, though God, you hate the horror.
Only, when you look at an accident, you might put yourself there for a moment, actualize it a little in your mind; but then the car in front of you is moving and so are you and you’re thinking about Lost and why everyone seems to think Sawyer is so hot because you just don’t.
Sorry.
And then the accident is somebody else’s and that’s where it’s different for me and these memories: they are mine. They smell like me, taste like me, feel like me. And if you were to look inside of me, you’d have a hard time distinguishing the stuff that is me from the stuff that has happened to me, I think.
Even now I can’t hear a door slam without thinking of that morning when all hell broke loose.
Yes, hell. As I just told a friend who questioned me on that word: I use that word now since my life has been ruined. And then we laughed, because see, it was a joke.
Never thought I’d be making these jokes, though.
But the door slamming. It says something, you know? It said something for me after I first learned what turned out to be just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak, of this horrible mess. I couldn’t sleep at all, so decided to go on facebook and write kind comments to all of my nieces and nephews. Because that’s therapy right there, huh?
And when I had exhausted that, I decided to just leave. I didn’t have a car but I didn’t care. Honestly, if something happened to me, I didn’t care about that either. So I left at six in the morning. It was cold, but I didn’t wear a coat because you don’t think about bundling up when you would peel off your skin if given the chance. I brought no ID and no phone and let the miles fall behind me as I perfected anger and fear, sadness and something that felt like prayer.
I eventually got tired, though. And cold. I walked six miles to a gas station and asked the guy behind the counter if I could use his phone. I called my parents. Heck, I called Drew. Nobody was up so I walked the same six miles back to the house and when I got there, I slammed the door behind me. Drew was asleep, looking peaceful and that made me mad. So I slammed it again. He still wasn’t quite awake, so I slammed it one more time to make my point.
He got the point. And asked me what was wrong. To which I gave him a blank stare, because that might be one of the dumbest questions that’s ever been asked. And I am a huge fan of questions, don’t easily think they’re dumb at all.
But fast-forward.
To when I heard the door slam on that last morning, when it woke me up. Not just from sleep, but it woke me up to reality. I awoke to an empty house and the stillness hung heavy in the air. His bag was gone and when I started calling, he didn’t pick up the phone. Not for a while, at least.
And the sound of that door slamming, it was final. Like a bullet. It killed something and I woke up not quite knowing what was dead yet. And my brother Josh, he recently told me that seeing me in those next couple days was like seeing a ghost. Somebody who had died but still had to be bothered with putting on jeans and brushing her teeth. It was cruel, really.
And sometimes when I think about these things, I need to sing. Sometimes I need to sing songs about what will be. You know, the good things that are coming up. All the reasons why I still love a good love song.
And then sometimes I need to sing a good and mad song. Not crazy-mad, thank goodness, but you know, mad-mad. WTF?-mad. And sometimes my sister and I drive in the car and we play this one song over and over again and we sing along to it like it’s gonna make everything better and I don’t know, maybe it does make things a little better.
So tonight I sang the song again, but I pressed record before I did. It’s a cover, Bust Your Windows, by Jazmine Sullivan.
Here you go.
You are such an amazing writer. And singer. And everything. And I hate that you are going through this. I know I say that all the time, but it’s still true. It sucks, and you don’t deserve it. But you sing beautifully. And that’s something. Really, really something.
well thanks, and yes, that’s something…for sure…:)
love this and this song.
love singing it with you in the car. And remember? it was your bright idea for me to sing it:)
What happened that night, Jessica?
the night that I walked 12 miles and slammed the door when I got home? I had found out some really sad/painful things…or do you mean when I was woken up by the door slamming? Cause that’s when I found out even more really sad/painful/shocking things…Sad part of the story, but not the end. Not the end for any of us.
Sounds great, I think I recognized a word to add to effing and sexy in terms of allowances for you to say, yes?
yeah…and the crazy part is that the actual line is: You should feel lucky that was all I did/after five whole years of this bull****.
Five years.
Just like us.
Kinda crazy.
That really is so crazy, you’re right.
You nailed this song, Jess! I don’t know but this song brings a bit of comfort without actually doing anything out of anger. Good job. I like you singing this song so much, I thought I had suggested it to you. But I’ll bow to Jenna!
well maybe it WAS you who had the idea, then, mom:)
No, it WAS Jenna who had the idea. I thought of it later.
I finally get into the blog (a life long desire!) and its in reference to the most painful chapter of my family’s life..sorry this happened jessica…
well you should be. you know I blame it entirely on you…:D
Jessica why have you locked Josh out of your blog for a lifetime before today?
well jase, he really had to earn this spot. He finally did when he said I looked like a dead woman.
Jess… Preach. I hate to be redundant, but I hate that you have to go through this. I love you so much. I love the mental pic of you and Jenna driving and singing this together. I love hearing your voice!
girl, you can tell me you hate this every day for the rest of our lives and it won’t be redundant…It’s sad and yes, I hate it too…But I love you!!!! And I misssssss you!!!!
You write about heartbreak so eloquently…so vividly.
I think that who we are and the things that happen to us are always somewhat indistinguishable…all the things, good and bad and what we do with them, become a part of who we are.
yeah, definitely. And I think what you wrote there–”what we do with them–” is super important and a beautiful thing in that we have a choice to do what we choose with whatever is passed off as ours, whether we ever wanted it or not.
I will just add that this infamous door slam, the one you heard, not the ones you created, makes me furious, always will, and is pretty much inexcusable.
…I know…
Jess, I can only echo what has already been said. I am so sorry this has happened and wish like anything that it was only a piece of fiction I was reading. I must say, though, that what you have done with it, as evidenced by your blog and the songs you sing, particularly this last one, is nothing short of amazing and inspirational and deeply moving. Thank you for sharing your heart with us. Painful and broken though it may be it is also beautiful and brave and it will be healed. You are right, this is not the end.
yes, I can believe that now. that it’s not the end. most of the time, anyway. and thank you for listening:)
I agree with Nina’s comment. Thank you again for sharing from your heart. Keep writing, keep singing- there is so much vitality in you- for someone who was described as a ghost…
Jessica, I love listening to you sing and perform. You are one of my favorites. I just wanted to thank you for showing your vulnerability once again. It is a huge part of the healing process that God is currently bringing you through. When you come out on the other side, a HUGE blessing will be waiting for you. God is gonna do big things with you…Thanks again!
you are so sweet, rachel-thank you so much:)
Really, “What’s wrong?” Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a Christian, so I could do and say all the things I want to about this whole situation! But, since I am, I will just join all these other people who love you and say that you are precious, and loved, and talented, and God has a plan for your future! Also, I ALWAYS have my cell next to my bed – call me if you ever find yourself wandering again.
Michele–I totally will! My problem is that I didn’t bring MY phone and honestly, I barely even know any phone numbers anymore!!! Everybody’s is just saved in my phone…there really aren’t many that I actually know.
i agree… i hate that you are going through this..i hate that door slam..all of the pain..it is awful. you are truly one of the most amazing people i have ever met..and i am reminded of the verse ( somewhere) in the BIble..it says ” those who sow in tears, will reap with joy”..all of this pain and heartache, is horrible..and somehow, in the midst of the pain, i see God weaving such amazing and beautiful things into you..and He has so many amazing things in store for you..you are truly a courageous and beautiful woman- inside and out and i am so honored to be friends with you..
and p.s..i love the song!!!! you sound beautiful- as always!!!
sarah, you are such a friend…no words…
dear sarah, love jessica. I guess that says it all.
I am so excited that I finally have a chance to comment! I read your blog late at night while feeding Honor and can’t type so well with one hand:)
Anyway…I love your writing…you are so honest and transparent about the truth of your pain and I appreciate that so much. So often as Christians we feel that we need to be so quick to forgive and put a pretty picture on our pain, we forget that forgiveness is a journey that can take a lifetime and we can’t get there without being honest about how much and how long it HURTS! Some things can’t ever be made “ok,” at least not in this life. Thank you for sharing your truth.
Love the song…reminds me of “You Oughta Know,” which I think you could do an incredible job with…but it would add a ton of words to your allowance list;)
Sorry…rethinking the song suggestion…I just remembered that that one is REALLY crass…I haven’t heard it in a long time and I’m a bit sleep-deprived!
Sarah, it’s so good to see your words here…thank you for the encouragement and it is really nice to be able to be honest–and lol about adding a “ton of words to my allowance list!”
I love this song Jess – you do a great job with it. I say we open the conference with it this weekend!
haha I’m totally down with that!!
If we’re suggesting songs I’d love to hear you sing “Love Sucks” from that scene in the Wedding Singer.
can we get the losers from table 9 to back me up on that?!?!