Life Is a Play

May 5, 2011
By , Tucson, AZ
Self discovery

I found me
You know where I was hiding?
Under all that pressure and unnecessary striving
To be something not worth dying
People asked me where I been
I just smiled and projected a grin
They were looking for me as well
I could see I could tell
In their face I see their worries
They’re too concerned about me so they slow down they hurries
It’s not as if I was stolen or put away
But I’m not the same person I am today
When I found me I found value and treasure…



The sound of the shower,
The rustling of the curtain
opening,
The light shining through my closed eyes,
It was morning… another working day,
I fight myself for some extra sleep,
It’s not working; I lay there with my eyes open,
Staring at the ceiling,
He comes out, the bathroom door creaks open.
“Oh no”
“Why me”
“Why this early... Ugh this sucks!” I thought to my self
My body instantly closes its eyes again just when my step dad comes in the room.
“Hey time to wake up” he said as he tapped my shoulder.
I manage to mumble an “Ok” as I get up from under the sweet warm covers of my bed.
I stretch.
Roll off of my bed and head straight to the shower.
The warm water… beckons me to sleep again, its warmth so relaxing.
I ache for some more time to rest my tired body.
I stop myself.
I tell myself, “No Jackie, its time, get going”
Soon enough I’m dressed in jeans and a T-shirt like usual
And I’m putting on my make-up; I seek perfection even with a simple line of eye liner.
I turn to my sister and say, “Does each line match?”
Silence.
“Well?... Do they?”
She only replies, “It looks good.”
I tell her, “No really I don’t care if they look good I want them to be the same.”
“Jackie,” she says, “The line is perfect.”

Pleased, I grab all my ‘equipment’ and put it away in the bottom cabinet.
I finish my hair and brush my teeth… next I go work on my chores.
First I make my bed I climb up on top of the bunk bed that I share with my sister
I pull everything off and I straighten each sheet and place everything neatly.
It needs to be perfect
I finish the bed and add the top pillow
There all done perfect.
I climb down my bed only to work on my step dad’s bed while I’m in the middle of telling my sister to hurry up and get ready.
I managed to remember to look at the clock
5:41 man it’s been about an hour since I got up.
Feels like I haven’t done much….
5:41 is the time I wake up my mother
I ask my sister, “Are you all done with your chores?”
She smiles and says, “Yes.”
I think to myself, “Good.”
One thing I know is my mom doesn’t like to wake up to find us running behind.
I walk into the dark room... I tap her on her shoulder
She gestures to me for ten more minutes.
In my mind I run words in my mind about how jealous I am that she gets to sleep in and I don’t.
I tell myself to deal with it, that’s just the way life is. We have things to do and we can’t dwell on sleeping in.
I finish picking everything up in my room.
Then the ten minutes are up… I wake up my mom
She gets up and wakes up my little brother.

“Morning’ mom” I say with a smile.

She says in a tired voice, “Good morning.”

I then ask, “How did you sleep?”

“Not long enough” she replies.
She then gets herself ready and showers my little brother.
She then passes him to me and I get him dressed and completely ready for school.
Look at the clock again
6:30am
Time to make breakfast.
I get to the kitchen, after I put all the dried dishes away I look in the fridge.
“Hmm what to make…”

My little brother then comes up to me and asks “can you make burritos? Oh no wait! Can you make egg sandwiches?”

I laugh and tell him, “I’ll think about it”
My sister comes into the conversation and then asks herself “you should make pancakes”
“No!” my little brother shouts, “I want egg sandwiches!”
“Richie no yelling, I will think of something that you will both like” I said to them

I get myself to make something. Cook it. Serve it. And eat it.
I put dishes in the sink, rinse them then wash them.
I then spend the rest of my time before school doing last minute chores and leave the house in a hurry.



School: where I get to relax and stress all at once.

First hour-

Get in class, bellwork, discussion of sometime in history, laugh, joke, pack up, and leave.
Second hour-
Get in class, bellwork, math lesson, mess around, talk, get told to be quiet and focus, wait for the END of the period, bell rings, pack up leave.
Third hour-
Get in class, bellwork, lecture the WHOLE TIME, pack up leave.
Fourth hour-

Get in student aid, talk to everyone in the counseling building, talk to my teacher and get the instructions for the day, I end up filing or running passes, soon after bell rings, I pack up, and leave.

LUNCH
The best part of the day! This is where I hang out with all of my goofy friends. We have an awesome teacher that lets us eat in the orchestra room together. Now being Fine Arts students we are welspontaneousous, crazy, funny, and well…OUT THERE. We are just plain… AWESMOME! The best years of my life have been with my orchestra buddies. (and some like to say ORCHaDORKS) when I’m down they are there to comfort me. This is the place where people see the real Jackie Mullins. They don’t see the stressed, kinda smart (I am not gonna say I’m super smart because well I’m just not), and over worked girl. They get to see the funny, goofy and strong girl. The girl that is open and doesn’t like to worry about anything.


Fifth hour-

This is orchestra itself not only can I show my true self with my friends at lunch I can show it in orchestra. This is where we play wonderful pieces that help me express myself in ways; without words.


Sixth hour-
Another class that is not the average boring same routine class, sure I have bellwork and a lesson but the lessons are WAY more hands on and fun. Maybe that’s because of the artsy fartsy things we do in that class, or maybe it’s the way my teacher teaches the class. Either way I run into the fact that I show more personality then I do at home.

See what people don’t know is that at home I live in a house full of rules. It’s a place where there is no ‘funny’ business. I cannot complain about how I live at home, so don’t think that I am, all I’m saying that it is not the place where you tell your mom what you and your buddies did when goofing off in class or at lunch. The parents I live with a very strict and have high expectations. They expect high grades, good attitude toward them and when you are told to do your chores, and completing them correctly and swiftly.



At home it’s not just what you are and what you are not supposed to say or do; it’s also that most of the time you don’t get enough time to finish exactly what you want to say.
Like when you are first getting in the car after school and your parent asks you “how was your day?” and you say “oh it was ok” or you say it was good or fun or anything along those lines. Parents just usually say “oh that’s nice”. Or they say “oh that sucks” but only listen to why your day was bad or boring for about five to ten minutes, then they totally cut you off by asking your siblings the same question or even tuning out to the radio or some important phone call. Some times it’s not even your parent’s fault, it’s yours, because you avoid the question and just listen to music or text your friends. For me it’s usually the fight between siblings- on who gets to talk first. I could be telling my step dad all about my day after he picks me up from school, when all of a sudden my little sister or brother rudely interrupts me and tells an unrelated story about nonsense to my step dad. But most of the time when I get interrupted is at the dinner table when I go to tell my mom, who I haven’t seen all day, what I did at school that was funny or boring and I get cut off because the commercial ends and the news comes back on.
“Hey mom so today in Bio-“I get cut off.
“Shh Jackie, the news just came on!” my mom says sternly.
“But-“once again cut off.
“Jackie! Shh!”

Even though it felt like I waited forever for that set of commercials to come on, in order to tell my mom what I wanted to say. But even then it either seems that the commercials take like two seconds or right when I say something my mom is asking for plates to be passed or telling my step dad something that is either work or news related. Which means I totally give up on even trying to start a conversation with my family. I just hurry up and eat to leave to finish something else that is more interesting, but if I really think about it that’s not all. It’s not just about not getting to your point, it’s that you’re always busy working on chores, school assignments, or going out to let’s say a dinner and a movie (where you don’t talk about your week to your parents because they are already lost in their ‘ADULT’ conversation).


This is why I’m left to be my true self at school or my father’s house. This is because who I am is not always aloud to be presented because it gets in the way of what should and needs to be done. I have never really realized how negative that sounds until it’s on paper. I do not intend to be rude or ungrateful, which in my luck it always seems to be so. But that’s how I feel it needs to be and as the years go by it seems to be getting easier to talk and express my wacky self. But yet I still don’t feel comfortable to speak on a more personal level with my mom and step father. And yet the feeling of being ungrateful and a horrible daughter keeps popping up in my head. It makes me feel that I could be doing more than I already do, but as Jackie Mullins I still feel that I’m pushed over the top. I can try to see my life and how I live it in another person’s point of view to help ease my conflicted mind but I end up resulting in either ungratefulness to feeling used.


Parents say that teenagers don’t know what they’re talking about, that we are just trouble makers and do not see the ‘Big Picture’. Maybe that’s true but I also have come to realize that we are only trying to live our young lives as thrilling as it can be because we see our parents working hard with work and a family. We don’t want to be like that at a young age. I guess what I’m trying to get here is that I am young right now and that even though my actions or my way of thinking may get me in trouble I am willing to take that chance because I know that in the future I will not find the things I do know as fun as I would in my older years. What seems to amaze me the most is that all our parents start out just like us, crazy teenagers with loads of ambition. And the fact is that our parents seem to forget that. They were in our shoes, we all know that they have what’s best in mind for us but we also have to learn from our mistakes as they did when they were our age. But they can always be able to help us avoid the serious mistakes. I mean the small mistakes that build us as a person. I believe that I am in that stage of self finding. I think I know who I am and what I want to be but in all reality I don’t. I don’t know what life has in stored for me, and I am thrilled for that adventure ahead of me.

Now I know that this seems off topic in this here memoir, but that’s exactly what makes it right. I am a person of many beliefs and how I express them is never ending. I know that most memoirs are about people’s life as they grow up or face some horrible tragedy. That’s not me. My issue right now is trying to survive that world under the laws of someone else. Parents. And as other teenagers like me of separate homes can understand; the difficulty when putting two life styles together from two completely different families. My whole life I have been battling that at the same time, and I have been trying to make both my father and my mother to be happy and proud of me. And what I have found is not everyone is pleased. Like in the beginning of my memoir you get a sense of irritation or an anger with the way I live, that my life at home with my mom is well bitter and rude. And that feeling of being overworked and the exhaustion when trying to the impress my mom does drive me to the point of hopelessness and I get frustrated and angry. Which isn’t right I see. But it’s one of those things that I struggle to control.

With this memoir, I want to get the point across that it is ok to feel that you’re different; depending on where you are, because if we all were to sit down and think about how we are, we would all understand each other. I want to tell every individual in my position that “they are not alone”. This is the: undeceive, confused, happy, and crazy life of Jacqueline Nicole Mullins. And I know that one of these days I will look back at this here memoir and I will remind myself that when I am a parent I will make sure that my children don’t feel like they have two lives. I will be there to understand and correct when needed. I also understand that this experience in this position has made me stronger, stronger in a way to help myself mend my two lives together permanently and so far little by little it is working. I am on my road to self discovery and self preservation.



…I wasn't a leaf I wasn't a feather
Drifting away through the wind
I had a purpose I had a trend
People were waiting on my existence
My finding and searching stayed at persistence
I can't believe I painted over me
Like I needed to be corrected or critique
I stood for something
There was a glow you could see from a far
Did you know something in me could move something like a car?
I elevate me
Exalt me
Encourage me
I am
Alive





















-URSHULA DAVIS





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