Hello, My Name is Disoriented.

My clock says it is 4:10 AM on Friday morning.

In the past thirteen days, I have taken a taxi to Newark, flown to Seattle, took a cab to a hotel, took a ferry to Bremerton, took a taxi and a bus and a plane to Los Angeles and then, finally, a plane back to Newark.

I was in all these places, and everything was different but inside I was stagnant, the same. I was in pain and ignoring it and trying to look at the prism of my experience through what I saw and not how I physically felt. My stomach muscles ached from breathing but I did, in and out. In bars and restaurants and on the living room floor with Cece.

I landed in Newark on Sunday night, exhausted. I wept on the flight, for reasons I’m not entirely sure of. I leaned my head on a stranger’s shoulder out of instinct, and he looked up, confused and annoyed.

I slept briefly at home, drove north and held and played with some of my favorite people.
I felt the curl of an newborn's hand around my finger. I learned so much.

I drove home from Katie's and accidentally passed out until midnight and have been up ever since, despite my overuse of Nyquil. (WHY. WON'T. YOU. WORK???)

I want to write about Seattle, and Bremerton and seeing Liz and Cece. I want to tell funny tales from my adventures in LA but right now, I am disoriented and exhausted and if you told me it was December, I'd probably believe you. (SANTA?!?)

I have pictures in my head, I have videos in my head of talks I had with Liz on the couch. I remember Cece's laugh. Her sideways waddle, her sweet smile. I know the taste of the margaritas we had on Cinco de Mayo in LA. I know the quiet that Rachel and I share, and the laughter too. I know that visiting family is not a vacation: it is home, just in another place.

All these memories and moments happened and coincided with physical pain and maybe now, here at 4:10 on a Friday morning, I am letting myself feel it. Instead of pushing, pushing through I am letting myself lie awake and wash over me.

Maybe that's why I cried on the flight home. Maybe that's why I feel unfunny right now, why my face is red and I can't really recognize myself. Why I'm bursting with fever. Maybe that's why I want to stay in this sweatshirt and lay here until everything comes back, all the energy I once had.

I will but I'll remember this: I live a full life, flush with experience and adventure and love. I am sick but I have everything else, here and there and even on the West Coast. So I will rest now, and let it stew, and I'll come back to the photos, videos and memories and remember just how blessed I really am.


  1. We love and miss you, kberg. Rest up and know we're thinking of you. sara

  2. Thanks Baker! I miss you guys too. You're the best.

  3. I love your honesty. It's not an easy life, but you seem to be able to live and love yours.

  4. kelly, i read your blog and think you are a great writer. i also think you should focus on taking better care of yourself (and I mean that in a very genuine and sincere way). you are young and bright and the choices you make on a daily basis truly affect your overall health and well-being. i hope that doesn't come off as lecturing, but i'm just a concerned "fan"

  5. thanks anonymous. i have been trying as of late to take better care of myself, to find the balance between living it up in my youth and taking care of myself. it's hard to miss out on stuff and i want to be there when i can, but i do realize i need to take more nights off and have been trying to do that as of late.

    thanks for your concern.

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