I was recently inspired to start blogging again (lucky you), after watching a Netflix documentary on the Cecil Hotel. The Cecil Hotel is near the skid row area of L.A. It was known for it’s negative energy and bad things happening with no explanation. A hotel that had once housed a serial killer and other dangerous people was the choice of a young college student who just wanted to take a trip away from Canada. She didn’t have any idea of what type of place it was when she booked it online. She just needed a cheap room she thought. This girl stood out from most of the others who had died or experienced the darkness of the Cecil Hotel. I think because she was so young, naive and no one could figure out where she went, no one understood the strange video footage that was shown of her last moments.
I hadn’t heard about her tragic disappearance in 2013 until just this year. I read her words and listened to her words being read by the shows narrator. I felt a connection. A connection to her pain, fear, and searching for who she was. Her shame about her mental illness and not being good enough. She wanted to experience things, experience the world and have adventures. So she did. She did and she blogged about what she thought and what she experienced. She was true to herself and authentic in her writings. I know how it feels to try to connect with a place, with an idea and an adventure only to have it blocked by the fuzzy bubble that separates medicated individuals from the world and the present moment. It’s not a good feeling. There is no joy and no sorrow. It’s just nothingness. I don’t blame her for stopping her meds if that is the truth behind what happened. What is life without joy anyways right?
It’s painful to think that her death also caused good things. I can see how people want that. They want something good to come from something bad. I prefer to not mix the two. I guess they can co-exist and stay separate possibly. Her death wasn’t good. It was sad and awful just the same as millions of others in the world. Some injustice happens and boom, life is changed forever, ended for forever. The good never makes the bad okay. I’d rather she was still here and I never knew of her. But that isn’t what happened.
Elisa’s blog still exists on tumblr. I went through it to read and connect. I do wish it would have ended differently for her and I wish someone would have stepped in to help her. I am also glad that I was able to connect with her words. While I was in a dark place myself, her story and words inspired me enough to start writing again. And sometimes the hope of someone reading what I write is what I need to make it through the day.
I hope she can see and feel how she has touched my life.
2 thoughts on “Little things that keep us going…”
Through her pain she gave her strength to you. That is a gift to be thankful for and her spirit
exists & is more peaceful because you carry on.
Thanks Debra. I hope so. It’s so weird how people we have never met can impact our lives in such a huge way!!
Thanks for reading and commenting. I really do appreciate it!