Everyone Has a Story

My name is Kaycee; I am a product of my mother's "creative spelling," a Christian, a writer, and a college student as of this week. As I am but a simple little freshman, I am not yet taking classes that require creative writing (which is code-talk for "give a valid and unignorable excuse to creatively write"). However, like every human being on the face of the planet, I have a story to tell. Hence this blog. Through this blog, I wish to write on a consistent basis and share bits of my story.

Like I said, I am a Christian, and that is the core of my existence. I was saved when I was eight years old because I was raised to think that it was the right thing to do. Then when I was 13 I went to a church retreat. We were in worship one night, and something just shifted into place in my life in a way that is impossible to adequetly describe with words. It was like I was suddenly aware of something that had been there all along, but now that I recognized it, it suddenly meant so much more. That was the first night that I really, truly felt God, and suddenly being a Christian meant so much more than all of the head-knowledge that I had been taught. God has been a huge part of my life ever since that night; He is my most patient and reliable friend and I know that He will never leave me or forsake me, even when I'm dumb enough to walk the other way.

When God created me, He gave me a link to the pencil. Writing for me is very similar to breathing, only if I had to choose between the two I would use every word I possibly could to describe that last breath. I write novels, short stories, poetry, creative essays, letters, journals, and random little paragraphs on the corners of Ravioli boxes (true story!). You will never find me without a writing utensil, and you will rarely find me without a notebook. It is on the rare occasion that you find me without a notebook that I resort to cardboard box flaps, invoices, reciepts, napkins, my hand, etc. Dry erase markers will write on mirrors and windows, and eye- and lip-liner pencils will write on shower walls.

I was raised in a... well, we'll call it an interesting home. There are many ways that I am very blessed: my parents are still married, we have a house, my parents are also Christians, I have a little brother that I love very much (despite the days that he doesn't believe it), and my older brother is now married to a Godly young woman who I am very greatful to be able to call my sister. Like all families, however, we have issues. We then proceed to take those issues and either blow them freakishly out of proportion and become extremely angry over them or sweep them under the rug and pretend they aren't there no matter how out of hand they get. My childhood was full of a lot of anger and not very many coping skills, and it took years before I ever learned that my parents' fights and my brother's behavior (back then) was wrong. I fell into a role of a peace-keeper, a people-pleaser, almost a counselor at times, and we all lost sight of my role as a daughter.

As time passed, we started to recognize problems and seek help. We've grown a lot, we've changed a lot, and we've realized a lot. But the problems didn't really go away or get better, they simply changed. Perhaps some day I'll write a blog to psyco-analyze what my family is now, but that would take a very long time. There is physical chaos, there is very little respect, the "respect" that does exist is a very unhealthy idea of respect, there are no boundaries, there are control issues, and there is emotional baggage that has been stuffed into closets and will not be dealt with within these walls.

Through it all, I have quickly learned to call this house "my parents' house," and the place I call "home" is my church. My church family is my "family that works" as opposed to "my blood-family." On the nights that I am at church late, when I return and knock on my parents' bedroom door to let them know I didn't die on the way back, I will say, "I'm here," rather than "I'm home." These code words will freaquently appear in this blog.

I am now begining college, because in this day and age that's what it takes to do anything of any meaning career-wise. I have every intention of moving out in a few months to better survive college as well as to no longer be trapped in this house anymore. Currently, I am attending a community college and seeking a job, a real job, to replace my newspaper routes. I have been delivering papers for six years now-- I make under minimum wage, but since I'm an independent contractor I'm technically self-employed so I pay twice as much in taxes and, due to my age and the state I live in, I don't get any of the tax breaks or our lovely government's stimulus pakages (which I read the other day that they accidently sent THOUSANDS of those stimulus checks to prison inmates by accident... now why can't they accidently send one to me?). Meanwhile, I work every single day, holidays included, weekends at ridiculous hours, all to be further finantially abused by the newspaper who thinks THEY'RE having a tough time in today's economy. I adore paper route; it's fun, I love interacting with the customers, and I've got a boat load of incredible stories, but it's time to move on.

Once I get my new job, I'm going to move out with a friend from church, finish community college, and then I hope to move on to the University of Iowa to take advantage of it's phenomenal creative writing program, meet my future husband whoever he is, get a master's degree, get married, having kids, and write for the rest of my life (possibly teaching creative writing at the college level between finishing school and writing for the rest of my life if absolutly necessary, depending upon finantial status). This plot is obviously subject to change. I haven't experienced real adulthood yet, I have no clue where my future husband is, and they say that the best way to make God laugh is to tell Him what your plans are. But for now, that's the direction I am headed.

Now you have sufficiently met Kaycee in a nutshell, and I have sufficiently met the Blogging world in a nutshell. Feel free to drop me a line, ask me questions, and share your thoughts. After all, you have a story too! I pray that my story will be of some kind of encouragement, comfort, maybe even inspiration, to you as you read Kaycee's Chronicle.