I don’t take a second for granted. That’s always been my motto. Ever since my heart transplant, I’ve been acutely aware of how precious time is. Time, the most valuable resource in the world, seems to be something that’s always at odds with what I am. Who I am, what I am, what my body tells me to, what I’m always up against. So I’ve always said, I’ll never take even a second for granted.
I don’t know why, I don’t know how, but I’m determined that I am going to take a second for granted. Someway, somewhere, somehow, I will find a way. Sau told me at the TRIO holiday part back in December 2023 that I need to have firm belief that I will live. I will live to be old! And I’ve just never believed that. No matter how much I pray to God I always have a deterministic outlook that I will die soon. I just can’t shake off that feeling – it’s a feeling I’ve had since I was 15.
I feel that there is some part of me that is opening up to the idea that I will live. I will live to be old. I may be wrong – I THINK I’m wrong – but is there any harm in thinking that way? Maybe it’s so horrible to think of the opposite, that no, I will not live to be old, that it’s done so many great things for me, but it’s also done so many bad things. I just don’t have that balance. I don’t have that time on my hands, but also maybe I do.
I just feel such a deep part of my soul a yearning to live. I don’t have any extreme goals in my life, but just a wandering sensation that I just want to hold onto my life and not let go. My dreams aren’t dreams but a reality to most. I want to be able to turn 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26… I want to marry, I want to buy a house, I want to have a house. I want to go to work, I want to advance in my career. I want to go to McDonald’s in the drive-through and order a Big Mac and gobble it down in the parking lot. I want to drive to the movies and watch Frozen 3. I want to put my hands in the sand and throw it up in the air. I want to swim, run, hike, and laugh, and smile, and yearn. I want to be 21 without the guilt of death and the souls of my friends surrounding me. I want to be 21 without being astounded that I’m still alive, looking back at my past and shuddering about how horrible it is. So many pillars of mediocrity – the things like American Beauty that people hate about themselves – are things I so dearly I wish I had. I want to be a mediocre person because mediocre people don’t struggle. I don’t think I’m incredible but rather really disgusting. I want to be someone average so that I don’t have to deal with all of this.
Ok, now, why I’m writing this. This sounds stupid. I know it sounds stupid! But no one’s really going to see this. I’m thinking of turning down the acceptances I received from Johns Hopkins and Dartmouth so that I can work for two years and apply to the Harvard School of Public Health. I know, I know. I know. But growing up, with my family, I do have a chip on my shoulder. Being told by my mom, repeatedly, so many times, about how stupid I am, how intelligence is not in my DNA, how I would never be able to achieve academically. And how in high school, how I tried to be smart, but then my heart transplant got in the way, and I was never able to catch up. And in college, how my health pulled me out of school again and almost disrupted my studies.
I want to go to Harvard. It’s like my number one dream in the world. The things is the Harvard School of Public Health requires two years of work experience. I didn’t apply to it because of this because my thinking is, again, I have no idea what my future situation is. I don’t know if I’m going to be alive in two years. Or if I’m going to be healthy in two years. Or if I decide to start a family and have more responsibilities in two years. Or if my mom gets sick and I need to take care of her in two years. A lot can happen in two years.
But, after getting all these wonderful acceptances, I think I can get into Harvard. And honestly, I never allowed myself to consider this, but I am now. I’m letting myself have hope that I can live long enough to do this. It’s hard, maybe it’s not, but it is hard. It’s really fucking hard. It’s really hard to admit that maybe I have a future beyond death and despair, hopelessness and death, but a promising future in which I can do what I want.
Maybe I can dig my feet in the sand, run a half marathon, and dance in the rain. Maybe I can swing dance under the lights with my best friend and be loved by someone else. Maybe I do have a life where I’m not driven by fear and a life where who I am is good rather than bad.
I also know two things can happen at once. I also know that this part of myself is not going away anytime soon. Who I am – all the doubts I have, all the trauma I carry, all the brokenness I feel within my soul – that is a part of me. But I also know that the person I am is someone who can love, laugh, and live. I know that I have the overwhelming, unbearable darkness but that it doesn’t have to overpower my life. Who I am is also resilient, kind, smart, intelligent, caring, powerful, ambitious, and wonderful. I have a lot of good inside me. I know that as a part of who I am.
My mom will probably never understand. Oh my gosh, do I have mommy issues. But she will probably never understand the ways I feel about myself, and that’s okay. My sister, dad, grandma, grandpa probably won’t understand. My friends probably won’t. My transplant community probably won’t. But I do. I know who I am, and I have to remind myself that I have a life worth living. I have a life worth fighting for. I have a life that’s good and not terrible. I have a life that doesn’t need giving up.
Update: I just saw on Instagram that one of my heart transplant friends is in the hospital and just had surgery. He had his heart transplant at 15 when I was 17. Fuck. This sucks… just when you have hope that everything can be good and great, you see something like this and it takes you back.
It’s like a pendulum, you swing between hope and fear sometimes 20x a day. It’s not a fair life to live. I don’t want to live a life like this. I just hope he’s okay and doesn’t die like Camila. I really can’t handle another death. I mean, it’s not fair. It’s just not fair.
There’s nothing more I’d like to be than 21, living with my friends in the big city with parties and life. But that’s not possible for me… But also that’s not the life I’d like to live, right? I’d rather live like this, than anything else… I am so grateful for what I have. I am. I’m so grateful. I don’t take a second for granted.
