I can do better

Y'all.

Don't underestimate my ability to hold a grudge.

I'm a mess of emotions, yes. This is a well-known fact. But I think it helps me in responding to people in the way that they need when they need it. So if something great happens in your life I'm going to be happy for you, and when something sucks in your life I'm going to empathize, even when I don't really want to. But I've got enough of the red-headed stubbornness and temper to be able to hold a grudge for a long time.

I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it's neither. It keeps me from interacting too much with people that make me miserable...but at the same time I feel bad about it because I am a people-pleaser. So I dunno.

Usually people are able to make things up to me with a little effort. But not always.

This has been a post.

He sees hope in everyone

I am tired.

I'm tired of trying to fit into the little box that society deems "normal" and I'm done with it. I'm not flexible, and I'm certainly not a contortionist and I'm not willing to try to squeeze into something that cannot possibly contain me. I'm done being limited by people's opinions of what I and others should be.

I've noticed that the people who have been in my life most consistently are those that don't expect or ask for anything but me.

Just a thought.

I just wanna be alone with your smile

2 things:

• That damn dream I had this morning. It was the first one about you in months. You were standing there, holding the hand of a girl who was taller, skinnier, and had darker red hair than me. In the beginning, your hair seemed like you cut it, but then I realized it was longer than ever. You were so self-absorbed that you didn't even notice me.
• Seeing lyrics from Blink-182's "M+M's" on Tumblr. It took me back to that time when we just sat in your car and you played it for me, telling me to listen to all the lyrics. All I wanted was to buy some candy (but not cigarettes) and drive to Madagascar with you. And I thought of how those are your favorite candy, and how I bought you that 42-ounce bag of them when I left for school so you'd eat them at work and think of me.

So I played it, and Dammit came on next, and why does every Blink-182 song have to be about you? Why did I have to start listening to your favorite band so much that I can still remember all the words, even though I haven't listened to them in a year and a half? And then there was Feeling This, and I could remember singing harmony with you in the car, and how you played Down and I didn't really understand it.

And it's not that I miss you, it's that I wish you would have tried harder. Because then I wouldn't be crying about nostalgia, I'd be crying about how I'm going to be in Omaha and you're going to be in Texas for the summer, but I wouldn't be alone tonight because you're not leaving for another couple of weeks.

And I just want to know what makes you smile now and if it still hurts to think about that night, whether you thought about coming after me when I left, and why you never called. And if you talked to your mom or your grandma or your brothers and what they said about me and what if I had gone to your grandma's wedding last summer? How the smell of the Garnier Fructis in my hair doesn't remind me of yours anymore, it's just how my hair smells now.

And how I just want to prove to you how much better off I am without you pulling me down all the time and how you hated my friends and how I hated that you hate everyone. And how you ruined Christmas for me that year and never wanted to introduce me to your family and how I never understood that.

And how I wish you'd call, still. That you'd want to apologize and show me how you've changed and become a better person. And how I'd pretend not to know who was calling because I deleted your number but can still remember it immediately when I think about it. And how I try not to think about it, but suddenly it's there, just like the way you'd roll your eyes when you were being ridiculous and how much I loved your real smile and how rarely I saw it because you were never happy, just content. And how I couldn't handle just being content and just wanted to make you happy but never could and how I drove myself crazy with that.

And how you had such an amazing smile.

Sick and tired of being sick and tired

(credit to Bill for the e-card)

My friend (a fellow diabadass and one of my closest friends) and I were talking one day, and we came to a realization…having diabetes messes you up.

A lot of diabetics (myself included) have had emotional/mental health issues in their lives. I personally have struggled with an obsession with perfection. One friend had an eating disorder. Another dropped out of high school. When you stop to think about it, having diabetes has a huge impact on your life.

I don’t know if it’s chemical - it could be, but I’m not so sure that it’s true. I think it’s more about having to fight to survive, relying on insulin to stay alive each and every day, being forced to live a stressful life full of needles and numbers. It’s the stares when you’re out in public, it’s the questions that you say you don’t mind answering, it’s especially the people who say, “I admire you. I don’t think I could do what you do,” because when it comes down to it, you either do it or you die. So you do it. You don’t think you can, but you have to.

Diabetes creates this anger deep down in you. There’s a feeling that you weren’t supposed to make it, that the fact that you’re alive when one of your very vital organs doesn’t work at all isn’t right. That you have to live like this forever (or at least until an adequate cure is found). That your disease is influencing your life enough that you’re making a career out of it. That people think they understand when they really don’t. That people would do anything for you not to suffer - your dad would give you his pancreas if he could, your mom would trade places with you in a heartbeat.

So yeah, in a way, diabetes messes you up.

The weakness, the sadness, the sirens, the madness

The pounding in your chest...like you're racing the street in an ambulance.

I don't know how to feel today. It's almost like I don't want to be happy right now. I just feel like being bitchy. Yikes.

I'm attributing it to my lack of sleep and the crappy duty from last night. There were just things to deal with, people who wouldn't stop talking...blah. I was up until 4:15 and then had to get up at 7:15 to pick up a friend and go volunteer at Project Homeless Connect Omaha (which is really amazing...so many resources for the homeless community of Omaha!). Plus I had the duty phone, which I really didn't want to be carrying around with me at PHCO because...well, why would I? Also, it snowed last night. Thank God I didn't fall this time.

I was parked in the garage, which is halfway across campus. Then I couldn't find a parking spot to fit my car, so I ended up going back to the garage after dropping off Elane (aforementioned friend) at PHCO. Then I ran back to drop off the duty phone at the front desk because it was finally 8:00, then ran to PHCO to check in. Whew.

My PHCO clients took longer than expected, mostly because there were two of them and only one of me. So I got out of there about an hour later than I had planned on, which was fine. Then I had a meeting at 12:45, which went very well, but immediately after that I had to go do two other things on campus before I had to work at 2:00...uggggh. Then I worked til 5, and then I had to check in for duty for the second night in a row. Now I'm working at the desk again, and it's fine. I'm just sick of dealing with people and I want them to read my mind.

So it's been a crazy day with hardly any time to just take a breath.



Yesterday, however, was really relaxing up until the evening. It was wonderful - I slept for 9 hours, got a free cupcake, helped some friends out...beautiful. But then duty happened, and people had their super-sassy pants on and I wasn't feeling that. My mood just kept steadily decreasing until I finally just let go while Eric was hugging me. All I needed was to be held for a second - really, that's all I ever need.

Maybe it's just been building up all week. Starting with the tests that didn't go well because I didn't feel like trying, followed by a talk with my boss that I never really planned to have (and actually have never had with anyone else, even Patrick or Steph - btw you two, feel free to ask if you want to know), then possibly unintentionally (and regrettably) putting myself in the friend category with someone...then last night...then today...blaaaaaaaaah.

Good things did happen, though - spring training for next year's ResLife staff, lunch with same someone, lunch with others, going out with friends from home...lovely. Got re-hired for camp, getting an email instead of an interview for the job I had last summer, interview for the job I actually want this summer in a couple days...fantastic. But this mood just isn't going away.

I need sleep.

I ran to the tower where the church bells chimed...

...and I hoped that they would clear my mind. They left a ringing in my ear, but that drum's still beating loud and clear.

I went to Mass with my mom yesterday back home.

I've been thinking lately that maybe church is what's missing. Maybe I just need to rebuild my relationship with God and the Church to figure out my life.

The thing is, I think I already have a pretty good relationship with God. But that means that I have my own beliefs...which are not necessarily the same as an organized religion's.

The priest focused his homily on foundations. The Gospel reading was Matthew 7: 21-27 - foundations. The wise man builds his house on rock, unlike the fool who builds his on sand. We're supposed to build our faith on the teachings of the Church, and it'll become our rock. With the Church as our foundation, we can't go wrong.





Right?

But I have my rock. My rock is made of the people I love. My rock is the belief that God is love - all-encompassing, unending, unwavering love. As Father Greg Boyle, S.J., said, "This is a God who's too busy loving you to be disappointed." I think God loves every person. He created us all, didn't he? Didn't He make us exactly the way we were to be made? So how could he possibly NOT love us? God loves us. That is my rock, my foundation.

Then why is the Church grinding my rock into sand?

How is it, then, that if we are supposed to love our neighbor, if God truly loves us...how does it possibly add up that we can't let love happen? Why can't people I love so much love each other?

Yes, this is turning from a religious rant into an LGBTQ rights rant.

Love is love. You can't tell people I love that they can't love each other based on which gender they are. You can't keep them from loving each other by withholding the ability to marry. That's not how love works. The heart works, regardless of a piece of paper. But it would be nice to allow them that sanctity, the ability to prove that they will love no one else the way they love each other for the rest of their lives.

Also, this is becoming a save-the-world rant.

We just sit there in the gorgeous brick building, filled with heat or air conditioning that's so plentiful we complain about it, listening a man wearing a robe stitched with sparkling gold-colored threads, under a crucifix hand-carved of bleached wood. What good is any of that doing for the world? Why do we have such nice things when so many people have none, and why are we enjoying them when we could actually be doing something worthwhile?

I felt like I needed to leave partway through Mass. Just run, drive away to where no one could hear me, and scream. Scream in frustration at living such a privileged life and not realizing how much I don't deserve until now. Scream in fear for the rest of my life, afraid to lose this. Scream in confusion, not knowing where to start to make sense of it all.

So all in all, going to church at home made it worse. Thankfully, I'm at Creighton, where a lot of people seem to feel similarly. A lot of those people happen to be my friends.

I think I need to start going to St. John's more, but not St. Patrick's.

Don't be a drag, just be a queen

"There's nothing wrong with loving who you are, because He made you perfectly."

Before I begin, a side note: I think I just fell in love with Taio Cruz's "I'll Never Love Again."

Today. Today started off with very little sleep, but a little more than the night before. Alarm at 6:30, up around 6:50. To the classroom at 7:00, test at 8:00. Lunch consisting of junk food in the library studying for test #2. Test at 2:30. I didn't do as well as I had hoped on either of the tests, but I guess that's kind of what happens when your professors are terrible at scheduling exams and give you three in two days.

(I guess it's also kind of due to the fact that I didn't pay attention in class and spent less time studying for these than the one yesterday, but I'm going to blame other people because that makes me feel less terrible about myself.)
Anyway, so then I had some time off to sit around, chill, and clean up a little bit. Then I had a professional meeting (Midwest College of Clinical Pharmacists, woot!) at 5:30 - baked potatoes included, yum - which focused on INSULIN THERAPY MANAGEMENT. Yessssssssss. I was fascinated, enthralled, and engaged for every second of that presentation. And it wasn't even that great - I just love learning more and more about my disease/future career. So it was great, and I was ecstatic leaving the meeting at 7:00.

Some of my excitement, however, may have been because Wine Tuesday had then arrived. I chilled with my ladies, drank some cheap but delicious wine, and enjoyed being alive for a couple hours. It was beautiful.

So overall, I actually kind of ended up enjoying today. It really wasn't terrible like I thought it was going to be.

Also, I'm hoping Steph feels less stressed out soon! Sending lots of love her way.






Still angry. Made a list of reasons today, which ended up being a lot longer than I originally thought. Eh, we'll see how it goes.

In the shadow of your heart

It's not about him this time.

"Then in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat. I tried to find the sound, but then it stopped and I was in the darkness, so darkness I became."

I feel like I'm constantly applying for friendship. Doing things to make people like me, make them want to be around me like I want to be around them. I've achieved that with very few people, and you're not helping me with it. Like I said, counting down the days until you get sick of me.

Hey, boys.

Boys of friends.

Boy friends of friends.

Boyfriends of friends.

Don't treat my friends like crap.

I'm not okay with that.



Also, please learn how to use grammar correctly. I Hate It When You Type Like This.

This is the story of a girl

I really don't like being around mean people. Honestly, I kind of can't stand it.

I always like people until they give me a reason not to. Sometimes, they give me a reason to dislike them right away, and then it's really hard for me to get back to a spot where I can be okay with them. But that's not the story I'm telling right now.

Mean people. Why? Why are you like that? I don't understand. What makes you feel so good about making other people feel so terrible? Sure, your comments might get some laughs. But what's the point?

The biggest problem I have with mean people is that they make me feel like crap. Since I try to always see the best in people, I turn most of my negative feelings on myself (as I'm sure you've noticed). So then when other people say negative things about me, it hurts even worse than it probably should. One person in particular does this to me. Usually I think he's pretty cool and I enjoy being around him. Often he has those moments where I think, "Wow, he's just really amazing." And then he has those moments where I think, "What the hell? Where is my friend and who's this asshole that replaced him?"

He can tear people down sooo easily, especially me. I constantly feel like I'm being judged when I'm around him, and that feeling has always been one of my biggest issues. There are times when I want to leave dinner just so I don't have to be around him. Some of my friends can get past this easily and see him as just a wonderful person, but I can't get to that point. I think he's great, but not all the time.

*rant over*

These are my confessions

It's time to admit some things about myself. I don't always feel like this, but I usually do. Fuck, I don't even know how to start this. There's just so much built up inside me right now.

I hate nearly everything about my body. (Yes, I'm a typical girl with typical body issues, plus some. So if you don't care or don't want to hear it, stop reading.) Why, you ask? Well.

I'm 6'0 tall, which has always been awkward and not cool in my book.
I never use scales because they make me cry.
I realize that as a tall person, my ideal body weight is greater than people who are normal heights, but I can't help it.
Born to dance? Fuck that. If I were born to dance, I would be less than 5'6 and around 100 pounds.
Shopping is usually fun...when I'm looking at accessories. When it comes to trying on clothes, I almost always end up discouraged and angry because nothing ever fits me.
Jeans are nearly impossible for me to find; I have to get at least extra-longs in one of the largest sizes because my hips are so big, and I spend hours trying them on and find maybe two pairs.
I don't realize it UNTIL I try on jeans that my hips are huge.
(I actually really like having curvy hips...only thanks to Ryan.)
I was told once that my eyes have a unique shape, but that only makes me think they're weird.
I think I have a really big forehead.
I only like my hair when it's straight, but it takes so much time and effort that I hardly ever do it.
My feet (as I wrote about it my recent post) have calluses from dancing for 14 years, and I'm convinced they'll never be smooth.
My hands are too small for someone my size.
I have small shoulders, tiny ears, and an extremely short upper lip.

Last but not least, what I hate most about myself: my insulin spots.
There are hard deposits about a centimeter below my skin that came from doing too many injections there in the last twelve and a half years.
They're horrible. To me, they look like two little tumors on either side of me, in line with my belly button, just inside my hip bones. They have little bruises around them from other shots. I hate them with every fiber of my being and sometimes I just want to take a knife and cut them out.
They're the only things I really try to hide from everyone. Sometimes I wear leggings under my jeans and tell you it's just to be warmer...but I wouldn't tell you it's also because they can hold in my insulin spots. I wear a sweater or a jacket every day, just so I can cover them up.

A recent excerpt from my journal (I know, a journal with stuff that's not already on my blog? Crazy, right?):
"It's nights like these that make me want to run back to him. The one who would rub aloe as gently as he could on my severely burnt back, the one who once told me I was perfect, the one who would kiss the insulin deposits under my skin that I hate so much. He would hold me while I cried, my forehead on his shoulder and my face stuck frozen in a sob that felt like it would never end. 0.09% NaCl solution coursing down my cheeks, chest caving in like my heart was a black hole, not feeling the need to breathe."

Even when I've tightened my belt by a notch, when I know that my stomach's full of air because I ate wheat today and not with food because I ate too much, when I've felt so good about myself earlier in the week...I can't escape the tears that are so ready to spill.

Alive

calloused and bruised
my feet, my soles
my soul
perpetually searching for a beat
dancing eternally without rest
seeking perfection
unattainable and demanding
screaming out in pain
for days after rehearsal
the only time I feel alive
stinging and burning
throbbing and loving it
my feet, my soles
my soul

Sometimes your first scars won't ever fade away

In three days it will be a year
since I walked out of your house
with no intent to return
rivers from my eyes
as your face crumpled in pain

But now I can't get you
out of my thoughts
and I need to bring you up
in conversations with people
who either hate you already
or never knew you at all

Tell me this:
why the fuck do I still care?
What's the point
in thinking of you anymore?
I give up.
Finally, I'm done dealing
with the memories I left with.

Sick and tired

I'm sick and tired.

I'm sick because I have been since I was 8, and now there's more wrong with me.
I pray for one disease over another, because one can be fixed.
I already have one that will last forever and a deficiency that goes along with it, and I don't want to add another one.
Fuck, I don't want to add another disease at all, but I have to pray and hope and wish that I have the one that will make less of an impact on my life.
Another pill? Sure, that's fine. I can deal with taking pills for the rest of my life. I already do that.
Changing my eating habits? I'm not so okay with that.

I want to be less different, and now I'm even more so.

I talk about my diseased state all the time. I tell you it's my favorite thing to talk about, which isn't really the truth. It's just the subject I know most about and which you don't know much about, so I can talk a lot. I like talking.
What I hate, though, is being diseased. I will never not be sick. And you know what? That sucks.
I fucking hate being diabetic. I hate having hypothyroidism. I hate the possibility of having Celiac. I hate it, hate it, hate it.

I'm tired, and going to bed but not to sleep because I can't fall asleep thinking about how sick I am.

I'm sick and tired of being sick.

Fecal Findings in the Ali-vator

It's National Hug Your RA Day.

And you know what I got for it?

I got to deal with a displaced shoulder from "falling out of bed," remove a pizza box with shit in it from an elevator, and check on 8 girls who were stuck in a different elevator.

You know what I DIDN'T get for it?

A hug from a resident. :(

Props to Bill for the title of this post.

Something new: "I Hate This"

I hate how everyone else was right.
I hate how I refused to listen to them.
I hate how I suddenly got wrapped up in you.
I hate how I can't get untangled.
I hate how what I loved wasn't really you.
I hate how you pretended so that I'd fall.
I hate how I fell so hard, and for you.
I hate how you don't care.
I hate how I cared so much, while you care so little.
I hate how I don't care anymore.
I hate how I'm not ready.
I hate how I realize I need to be.
I hate how I don't love you like I did, but I still do love you.
I hate how I want to go back instead of forward.
I hate how I can't do anything because I'm scared.
And I hate how you don't even know.
How I'm putting on a face, and not letting you see this.

I don't want to be here...

I don't. I don't want to face them, I don't want to address this...I just want it to be summer. Only three and a half weeks, and I'll home, and it'll be summer, and I'll be around people who I KNOW don't talk behind my back. Here, though...I'm not so sure. But until then, I don't want to deal with this. I deactivated my Facebook for that reason. No, I didn't block you, I just decided I didn't want to deal with it, so I deactivated. I'll reactivate in the summer, but not before then. Maybe then all this will wash away and I won't have to face you again.

I realize that what I did was stupid and immature, and I'm truly sorry I let myself do that. But what you don't seem to realize is that it wasn't something little to me. It was my best friend telling me I wasn't good enough for her, and that's the worst way to hurt me. It's what I fear most about any friendship -- not being good enough. So thank you for pushing it into my face how much better you are at all things than I am, but I'd rather not listen anymore. Therefore I removed myself from the situation and not letting myself stoop as low as I did ever again. This is the last of it. I give up...not to say you win, just that I give up. It's not worth fighting for anymore. I don't think you were the type of friends I really wanted in the first place.

So. Now that that's done...I'm moving on. I'm going to focus on my studying these next three weeks, and I'm going to fully prepare myself for everything (academically speaking). It's going to be a hell of a lot of work, but now that I don't have Facebook to distract me, it shouldn't be as difficult as it was. Now I just have to stay off of Twitter a little more. :S haha

That's what's going on with me. I haven't written my novel in waaaaaaaay too long...but I just don't have time. I got my Honors paper done a little bit ago, and then I have my Bio paper due Wednesday, and World Lit paper due next Tuesday. And my World Lit project...hmmm...I need inspiration for that. I've got a good idea, I just need to find a way to really tie it to the class. Oh well...I'll figure it out.

I had a pretty good Easter break...spent 3 of the 4 evenings with Ryan. :D That's always fun...well, not always, seeing as we had one of our relationship talks again...how it works and why we're okay with it being so unusual and him reassuring me that it's okay that I'm not perfect and me crying and blah blah blah. But that was only one night, so we're good for a while. :) We watched "A Beautiful Mind" which I've never seen in its entirety before, and I absolutely LOVED it. John Nash reminds me of Ryan...I wonder if my boyfriend is schizophrenic...:S lol...


And then tonight for CU Dems we watched "Milk" and ate nachos from Q'doba, which were delish! And the movie was one of the best I've ever seen, honestly. I'm not gay, but it made me want to be a gay rights activist of the 70's! :D My parents were married in 1978, the year everything really happened for Harvey Milk (including his assassination). Odd to think about my parents being the age of a lot of those activists.


I'm starting this new optimism thing, just to try it out. I'll let you know how it works. ;)

I don't...

I just don't understand. I have no idea how this happened. I just don't get it. Today was such a good day, and now...I don't even know what to say.

I don't even know how I feel right now. I can't say anything because I don't know what I WOULD say. I'm just hurt, and upset, and a little bit angry (but more hurt), and I don't know what to do. I don't know.

I just don't know.

Tolerance Is a Wonderful Thing

I can't stand it anymore...the intolerance on this floor is INSANE. Insane in the membrane, as Michelle said earlier this morning. I CANNOT STAND IT. lflsjfosowfvhfldskcldsknjvihvfesvf. damn it.
I hate people who "know" they're right about everything, because usually they're not.
I hate people who can't accept a small difference in another person.
I hate people who think that being different is being weird.
I HATE people who think there's a problem with someone being gay.
So one of your friends from high school has a subscription to some magazine...so you figured out he's gay...don't sit there surrounded by people who have views that are radically different from yours and wait for them to be...idk, upset or something.
You: "Yeah, he's gay."
Another person: "...Not that there's anything wrong with that."
You: "Woah...yes, there is." FUCKING ASSHOLE.
I actually kind of hope you're reading this, just so you know what an ignorant JERK you are. What are you so afraid of, anyway? I have some great friends who are gay. What makes them worth less than you, O Hallowed One? In case you haven't heard, there's this kinda famous document that says "all men (and women really) are created equal."

Funny how everything connects, isn't it? In my World Lit class right now, we're reading Candide, to which the Declaration of Independence is directly related. Look at the last line of the main paragraph: "To prove this, let Facts be submitted to the CANDID world." That's a direct tribute to Monsieur Voltaire, thank you very much.

And to someone else: DON'T EVEN go around saying how teacher's unions are worthless and pointless and how you don't see why you should have to pay dues to belong to something so pointless. ASSHOLE. My mom works for the Nebraska State Education Association. It's her job, and you don't even have any idea how many teachers have to get help from her because students are DUMB and try to get their teachers in trouble. GET OVER YOURSELF. You don't know anything.

Okay, there's my rant and rave. Thanks for reading.