Author Archives: Anna Gardiner

About Anna Gardiner

Poet, journalist, surfer, musician... Bipolar. Writing saves me.


He’s coming

rocking back and fourth

the skull of inevitable fear

he followed me


four years old

then you appeared

now what more

what do you want

take it from me now

I surrender

just keep me alive

the green leaves of hope

they surround your fingers


they glow for a chance

for hope

But who will win?

I will.



Read this article before you read this blog post:

Well for starters, this article made me sob like a 12 year old girl. It is so tragic that something so awful and random can happen to such a good person. Just last night I found out that my boyfriend is cheating on me with a man, something he promised to never do (he’s bisexual). I didn’t understand why he could do this to me. He kept saying “I love you” and “I’m so sorry” but I simply could say nothing more than “I hate you” “its too late to be sorry”. I want to stay with him. I want to stay in love. But I know it’s not what the spirits (god for those who are religious) have planned for me. This may be the hardest thing I will ever do in my life but this article made me realize that tragic things can happen to good people. The article explains that a  friend of Sheryl Sandberg said, “Option A is not available. So let’s just kick the shit out of option B.” Time for me to kick the shit out of option B.

I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. Although not having Plan A sucks, trust me, there is a reason you are trying Plan B. You might not know the reason now- Sheryl Sandberg and I sure don’t- but I know there is a reason.  Last night I randomly decided to call the man who saved me on a suicide hotline weeks ago, jerry, my angel, I wasn’t suicidal. I wasn’t depressed. Something just told me to call him. Thank god I did. Literally, thank you god.

I called him while he was at a casino and I asked if it was a bad time and he said, “There is never a bad time for you Anna”. So, I vented. I talked and talked and talked. If a professional venter was a profession I would kick ass at it. I began talking about my boyfriend and how happy I was with him. I exclaimed, “I finally found him Jerry. He loves me. He doesn’t want me for my body or to cure his own insecurity, he loves me”. I smiled and sat on near my window happy and in love-how ironic. It turns out I also have a fantastic skill in dating assholes.

Now let me give you a little insight to who Jerry is. Although I believe he is my angel, he is a 30 year old man who lost his son, divorced his wife, and was diagnosed with a spinal disease that know one has cured before. He was the first to survive this terrible disease. When he told me this on the night of my suicide attempt, I finally began to understand that suicide is the most selfish thing I could do. I wanted to end my life because I am bipolar and could no longer handle my depressions, but if I did so I would of put my family through a terrible loss. My mother sat on our blue warm living room couch sobbing and said, “I don’t think I could live on this earth if you died before me”, after I told her about my suicide attempt. If I couldn’t stay alive for myself, I had to stay alive for her.

Now back to Jerry and I- as I vented about all the shit I went through but how much I loved my boyfriend, he began to sigh. I asked, “Oh god. What?” He replied with “Nothing nothing, I don’t want to burst your bubble”. (Never say that to someone, all they want is for that bubble to be fucking burst right open). I then convinced him to spit out the bad news.

“The spirits are telling me that your boyfriend is cheating on you.”

Of course I laughed and said, “Jerry! The spirits are wrong this time. He would never do that to me”.

We continued to talk and laugh until, two hours and a fantastic phone call later, I decided to call my boyfriend. He picked up the phone and said, “Hey babe. You’re still up? What’s going on?”

I immediately, without a hello back, said, “Are you cheating on me?”

He paused for one minute- a minute that felt like one year- and said, “Yes. How did you know?”

I replied, “Because the spirits told Jerry.”

Of course he said, “What? That’s bullshit. Whatever.”

He began apologizing repeatedly and uttered I love you in a voice that I did not recognize anymore. I sobbed. I yelled. I cussed. Then, I hung up the phone and punched the shit out of my pillow. (Poor pillow, thank god it wasn’t a wall or a person). I got depressed and I wanted to self harm again, but weeks ago I promised my family I would never cut myself again. So, I woke up my dad and screamed, sobbed and yelled into that poor little pillow five times.

I will grieve Cody. I will always love him, but my grief is no comparison to Sheryl Sandberg’s. Sheryl said on Facebook a few weeks ago, “ I will always mourn for option A. As Bono sang, “There is no end to grief . . . and there is no end to love.” I love you, Dave”. I will temporarily grieve Cody and my love, but Cody, you were option A and I love you. Time for option B.

The Unknown

Being a writer, I tend to over think and analyze everything. I thought that I had to control everything in order to create my own happiness. I was wrong.

I can not control my future. I believe that I can make choices to contibute to certain outcomes, but what happens in the future is not up for me to decide. It’s simply in the hands of the universe. I’m not sure if I believe it fate exactly. Although, I do believe that everything happens for a reason.

I have decided to sit back and let go of needing to be in contol. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.

Society has convinced us that life is simply about planning for the next step. There is always something greater, better, more. We spend our lives going to one school after the next preparing ourselves for the “real world”. Although, once you reach the “real world” does the preparation really end? You get a job, then you want a higher position at work, then you want a family, then you want kids, then you want a bigger house, etc. But where is the living? It’s always preparation.

I have decided to live, not to exist. To be content with the now and let my future be unknown.

I don’t know if I will be with him or I will go to that school or I will live in that city. Why worry about that now?

Just be. Accept the unknown.


There are a few different phases of heart break.

1) “Denial.” You refuse to admit to yourself what had just happened. It seems easier to sit with the disbelief than to accept the reality. After all, how could someone who is such a big part of your life just let you go. Maybe it was impulsive, you think to yourself, I’m sure he will appologize for it any second and everything will be okay.

2) “The crying.” It hit you. You now understand that he’s gone. He meant it and he is no longer a part of your life. You feel as though every organ in your body has dropped on top of your stomach and you can’t help but curl up into a ball and sob. You wipe the tears from your eyes and when you look around. . . everything reminds you of him. The pj’s you’re wearing; his. The CD your listening to; his. The christmas present you step on by mistake; his. You just can’t seem to brush the thought of him out of your head.

3) “Food.” For some reason a big bag of pretzels, a tub of icecream, and some oreos are the perfect dinner foods for you for about four days. And that stomach ache you once had, well it’s still there. But, now at least you know its from food and not heart break.

4) “Distractions.” You do everything in your possibility to forget this guy. After all, he’s probably having a great time with his friends, not thinking about you and doing just fine. So you should do the same, right? You go to school, work, a coffee shop; anything to get out of the house. Then, suddenly you realize you have tons of free time! You try and fill your whole schedule with girls nights and coffee dates.

5) “Canceling.” You then remember that you are heart broken and all you want to do is repeat steps two and three. So, you tell your friends you “are not feeling good” or “have tons of homework” or “forgot you had to work that day”. But, to your closest friends you tell them whats really going on. And that leads me to step 6. . .

6) “The over thinking.” You begin to tell all of your closest friends about the break up and you analyze everything you did in the relationship. You complain and tell them it’s “all my fault” and they reply by telling you it’s not and explain everything he did wrong. You now feel a bit better knowing that not everything is your fault and maybe you are better off on your own.

7) “I’m fine!” You have regained your sense of independece. Who needs someone else to make you happy! You begin to tell yourself that you are okay and you even start noticing other cute boys. You convince yourself that he isn’t missing you, so you refuse to miss him.

But. . . then there is that one thing. That one song on the radio. The commercial on TV for the movie you saw together. His sweatshirt you find in that pile of clothes.

You then begin to miss him again.

A Crazy Night

I was stuck. Stuck in the middle of thousands of tall, sweaty, loud people who of course all smelled like weed. I stood on my tippy-toes looking above the stage gasping for breath. This was it. Was I going to die? What if I got squeezed to death? The first thing I did was search for Kailee and with just a glance back and fourth we knew we were both terrified and wanted to escape. Then, all of a sudden the ground began to shake and the arena filled with the shouts of, “ARCTIC MONKEYS! ARCTIC MONKEYS! ARCTIC MONKEYS!”

After about 10 minutes of clenching my fists, closing my eyes, and taking deep breaths for survival, the crowd began to settle down and I was filled with pure happiness as I heard the words, “You used to get it in your fishnets. Now you only get it in your night dress….” Kailee and I began to scream every single lyric of course.

The night went on with about the same routine. Trying to survive and escape the mosh pit, screaming every lyric to every song, and falling in love with Alex Turner over and over again. Towards the end of the show we got on the outside of the crowd and decided to go crazy and dance like a typical drunk teenage girl. We ran around the crowd holding onto each others shoulders with uncontrollable adrenaline. We then decided to take a breather and after one or two more songs we headed out.

We (Kailee, two other girls who we carpooled with, and I) walked outside the double doors and the 42 degree air wrapped around us as we shivered in our high waisted shorts and crop tops. We ran to the parking lot as fast as we could singing every song which we heard for the last few hours.

We got to the spot where we parked and it was empty… “Look the car is gone,” I said jokingly, as we assumed we were looking in the wrong spot.

Then with perfect timing, a lady behind us says, “About twenty tow-trucks came by about an hour ago taking everyone’s car.”

“Oh, you’re being sarcastic right?” Kailee says while laughing.

“No not at all, this isn’t a legal parking zone for the concert. You should call Pacific West Towing Company.”

All four of us girls stood there in disbelief. There was no way…

“Did you guys get towed too?!” we hear.

I looked to my right and there stood two tall, scrawny boys with long hair.

After lots of tears, a walk with the two tall boys, fries at Chilly’s to give us comfort, and a trip to Pacific West Towing Company…. we found out the lady wasn’t being sarcastic after all.

We all laughed as we got back into the car telling each other that is was so worth it. The girls searched through their videos and pictures from the concert as I sat in the back thinking to myself about how for a few hours I had forgotten about AP classes, sports, work, and drama. What an amazing, but crazy night.

Just remember, stay as far away from a mosh pit as possible and $20 for parking is totally worth it.

Can I call myself a blogger?

You know, this all seems really silly to me. Just a girl sitting with her computer writing about life. What is the point of that? Well, that’s just what I do. I watch, I think, and I write. That’s the beauty of this world. We can choose to either be so caught up in ourselves and what we want or we can take a step back and watch others, just simply to observe. And that’s what writers are, the watchers. I can’t wait to watch and write about this crazy, unpredictable world. So, here goes to the start of something great.