What They Don't Tell You about Being Healthy
Oct 2022
Karlee Warthen
When I say I am taking a yoga class, I mean that when I was growing up we had a snack cake drawer instead of a bowl of fruit. My mom took us out to eat Mexican food twice a week, and didn’t tip.
When I say I cleaned my house, I mean that when I was living without myself I had weeks of unsupported worries piled with clothes I wore once and empty chip bags. So cleaning is an achievement I’ve only recently been granted, hence the pride I carry with finishing it.
When I say that I started journaling again, I mean that for a year my life went undocumented, floating in the wind like bubbles. Soon the bubbles would pop and never live in my dull brain again, unless I have something to hold sustainably.
When I say I am introverted, I mean I learned how to say no. I explored my own time, instead of using it on people who were using me. I cancelled plans and went to the park instead. I skipped Easter and mastered my craft of playing online games.
When I say that I have been seeing a therapist for a year now, I mean that I had to pay someone to care enough to see my pain. Well, let me rephrase that. I had to pay someone to be strong enough to feel my pain with me.
When I say that I am coping, I mean that if I didn’t have my placebo methods then I would call my mom and ask her why, and I would go to my hometown and burn a hole in the city hall, and I would have a yard sale, selling away secrets a child shouldn’t have had and still has.
When I say I am over it, I mean that I didn’t pass it by, I didn’t hike its treacherous mountains, I didn’t smile and move on. I built a bridge named Golden Gate Gratified Survival from my broken bones and ripped fingers, and you can only find it in the town of Verklempt.
When I say I am a warrior, I do not mean I went to battle. I mean I was born into warfare, and was groomed to become the next leader of the next battle. Brutally, I realized that to be the best warrior for my family was to become their enemy and choose peace.
When I say that I love nature, I mean that I learned how to breathe by being alone in the woods. Catching splinters, examining poison ivy, and licking honey suckles clean, I found this was the only time nobody was watching, but me.
When I say I am happy, I mean that the ghost of me is still fraying my bed sheets, reminding me of the people I had to let go of, of the life I had to leave, of the thoughts I had to process. My lost youth gives me this memoir to show how proud she is of me. I am too kind to tell her to screw off, like everyone else did.
Karlee Warthen is from Potosi, MO and studies in the College of Arts & Sciences at Washington University in St. Louis.