I have my bad days, and I have my good days. Lately there have been more bad days than good ones. Today was a good one, all things considered.
Life is hard, you know?
I have things complicating my thoughts. I have to do my job, I have to find a new job, I have to find an apartment, I have certain people sitting in my mind and refusing to leave, I have diseases to manage, and I have school. Even if I didn't have the other things to do, I don't think I'd be able to completely tackle school.
And I am so unmotivated to do it...any of it. I want to leave. I want to get on a train and go where it takes me. I want to disappear for the weekend and see if anyone notices. I want to be good at something, the way some people are good at reading people or at creating poetry or at flirting. I am finding that I am mediocre at all these different things but not good at any of them in particular. I mean, I'm good at math and grammar but a) what are those going to do for me, and b) there are plenty of people who are so much better at them.
I've been stuck in a rut of complacency. I need to get out of here.
Showing posts with label bad days. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bad days. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
No one will ever save you if no one can ever find you
So I've managed to make my life a total mess in the last few weeks.
I started thinking I could do something when all along I probably knew it was too late, and then I was crushed when I was told that it was, indeed, too late. I put myself through a week of unnecessary conversations and unnecessary tears and unnecessary worries. And I don't care what anyone says - I didn't get anything real out of it. If you'd like to provide me with an example of something I did get out of it, I welcome that. But I don't want to hear "I know you got something out of it. You might not see it yet, but you did." If you can see that so clearly, I'm going to need you to tell me what it was. Because I'm still not seeing it.
Anyway...
Then I decided to try to hide things from some of my friends, and...well...I mean, we all know I can't hide anything when it comes to my emotions, especially with the specific people involved. So I ended up hurting them and pushing them away even though that was the very last thing I wanted. I haven't heard from one particular person in a week and a half, and it's absolutely killing me. It's agonizing.
My stomach twists and my heart's in my throat every time I see I have a new email. I'm afraid that I was too late again, because I was ashamed and didn't know what to say. It was as simple as an apology, but I just couldn't figure out how to say it. And now that's all I can think about. I've spent a lot of time either in bed or on the couch, a lot of time crying, and a lot of time alone.
In the meantime, I've been trying to improve my outlook on things. I'm getting back to being on my way to feeling okay with myself. I'm forcing myself to listen to the wonderfully supportive people around me. I'm going to start trying to discern what parts of me are really me, and not just a combination of my parents. My mom always tells me "Ugh, you're so much like your dad" when I do something that irritates her, and my dad's response to when my mom and I fought was always "You're so similar that you just know how to push each other's buttons." I realized in my counseling appointment the other day that I've never really thought about identifying myself outside of that - I have my dad's eyes, my mom's complexion, my dad's short upper lip, my mom's voice, and a combination of their hair with my mom's color and my dad's texture.
But more than that, I identified myself with their personality traits too. My dad's passion, my mom's school smarts. My dad's interest in the humanities, my mom's interest in math. My dad's ability to dream, my mom's stubbornness. My dad's will to do everything possible, my mom's responsibility to the people around her.
Then if all that's from them...who am I?
So far, I think I'm one of Tilly's "Lost Girls" (see title, search song, listen).
I'm working on that.
I started thinking I could do something when all along I probably knew it was too late, and then I was crushed when I was told that it was, indeed, too late. I put myself through a week of unnecessary conversations and unnecessary tears and unnecessary worries. And I don't care what anyone says - I didn't get anything real out of it. If you'd like to provide me with an example of something I did get out of it, I welcome that. But I don't want to hear "I know you got something out of it. You might not see it yet, but you did." If you can see that so clearly, I'm going to need you to tell me what it was. Because I'm still not seeing it.
Anyway...
Then I decided to try to hide things from some of my friends, and...well...I mean, we all know I can't hide anything when it comes to my emotions, especially with the specific people involved. So I ended up hurting them and pushing them away even though that was the very last thing I wanted. I haven't heard from one particular person in a week and a half, and it's absolutely killing me. It's agonizing.
My stomach twists and my heart's in my throat every time I see I have a new email. I'm afraid that I was too late again, because I was ashamed and didn't know what to say. It was as simple as an apology, but I just couldn't figure out how to say it. And now that's all I can think about. I've spent a lot of time either in bed or on the couch, a lot of time crying, and a lot of time alone.
In the meantime, I've been trying to improve my outlook on things. I'm getting back to being on my way to feeling okay with myself. I'm forcing myself to listen to the wonderfully supportive people around me. I'm going to start trying to discern what parts of me are really me, and not just a combination of my parents. My mom always tells me "Ugh, you're so much like your dad" when I do something that irritates her, and my dad's response to when my mom and I fought was always "You're so similar that you just know how to push each other's buttons." I realized in my counseling appointment the other day that I've never really thought about identifying myself outside of that - I have my dad's eyes, my mom's complexion, my dad's short upper lip, my mom's voice, and a combination of their hair with my mom's color and my dad's texture.
But more than that, I identified myself with their personality traits too. My dad's passion, my mom's school smarts. My dad's interest in the humanities, my mom's interest in math. My dad's ability to dream, my mom's stubbornness. My dad's will to do everything possible, my mom's responsibility to the people around her.
Then if all that's from them...who am I?
So far, I think I'm one of Tilly's "Lost Girls" (see title, search song, listen).
I'm working on that.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill
Have you ever wanted to know what it feels like? Depression, that is.
It feels like this.
It feels like that, and it feels like confusion, drifting, apathy, pretending, hiding, anger, irrational annoyance, and shame, because what do I have to be sad about? My life is not that bad. But then when I think about it I keep finding all these reasons why it sucks. And then I think about all the people and things that make me happy, and it doesn't suck quite so much.
So maybe I'm a depressed optimist? I don't know. (oh, I say I don't know a lot when I have my depressive episodes)
Anyway, I broke down in the endocrinologist's office the other day for the third appointment in a row. So for the first time, my doctor wants me to start up counseling to focus on diabetes, because that's such a huge factor in it. She said that maybe doing that will help to relieve some of my stress and anxiety about it, which will help improve my blood sugars. Plus it'll help me get back to at least a neutral state, so maybe then I can start taking a little more control of my life.
I made the appointment the next day. It's funny how just setting up the appointment makes you feel just a little better. Other things that also make it better: people who are naturally happy (rather than trying to make me happy, because that's trying to fix it and that's not what I need), people who understand, my service trip group (because in Alabama it was like my depression didn't really exist, so now I associate that whole experience with happiness).
Song of the week:
It feels like this.
It feels like that, and it feels like confusion, drifting, apathy, pretending, hiding, anger, irrational annoyance, and shame, because what do I have to be sad about? My life is not that bad. But then when I think about it I keep finding all these reasons why it sucks. And then I think about all the people and things that make me happy, and it doesn't suck quite so much.
Anyway, I broke down in the endocrinologist's office the other day for the third appointment in a row. So for the first time, my doctor wants me to start up counseling to focus on diabetes, because that's such a huge factor in it. She said that maybe doing that will help to relieve some of my stress and anxiety about it, which will help improve my blood sugars. Plus it'll help me get back to at least a neutral state, so maybe then I can start taking a little more control of my life.
I made the appointment the next day. It's funny how just setting up the appointment makes you feel just a little better. Other things that also make it better: people who are naturally happy (rather than trying to make me happy, because that's trying to fix it and that's not what I need), people who understand, my service trip group (because in Alabama it was like my depression didn't really exist, so now I associate that whole experience with happiness).
Song of the week:
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
13 years
13 years gone like 13 minutes...underwater.
Now that July 18th is over, I think it's time for a little reflection. The day marked the 13th anniversary of my diagnosis with type I diabetes, and to be honest, it was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. It carried a lot of emotion that I hadn't been expecting, and the day in general hurt a lot more than it usually does.
Normally my "diabeteversaries" are happy occasions, days when I get treated to a nice dinner and sometimes even cake! The past few years have been really chill, because after a while it's not such a big deal anymore. I didn't mean for this one to even be a big deal. A Facebook status, a Tumblr post, a tweet or two. Not too much. But I guess it was my own fault that it became a bit bigger, because I talked about this one a lot. I mean, it is kind of interesting that my diabetes is a teenager now. But then I started making it a bigger deal than I even wanted it to be, so much that Claire even made me a cake (which was delicious and so awesome of her - thanks friend!).
It didn't help that my mom sent me this text: "Hey hun, it never ceases to amaze me how much courage you have shown in dealing with your medical conditions. I'm thinking of you on this 13th anniversary. Luv, mama." I overlooked it when I first got it, but when I went to reply later, it just hit me. I wouldn't be alive if it hadn't been for her.
It was a reminder of how fragile my life is, how easily I could lose control, how easily it could kill me. Maybe you don't know this (or maybe you do), but I've had four seizures, including two in my sleep. I've struggled with the temptations of diabulimia (which I'm sure you can find some information about on the Google machine - too much effort to go into it right now), it's been a major source of my depressive times, and I stopped caring for a long time during spring semester this year. No, wait. I didn't just stop caring; I let it take over, I let it get to me. For the first time, I felt defined by it.
Diabetes sucks. It really, really sucks. And I legitimately am sorry that I can't explain it very well to those of you who aren't diabetic. Unfortunately, you just can't know how it affects you unless you have it. I know you can see how it affects me, and you might feel like you get it, but it's just one of those things, you know? One of those things that is just impossible to fully understand until you're the one dealing with it. That's why camp has been so important to me - it's the one place where everyone really understands. I've never had the same connection with another person as I have with Lauren, my best friend from camp. I'm very lucky to have someone like her who understands and has had very similar life experiences.
I apologize for any time ever when I have not been very patient in talking with you about it. I know that you might just want to understand better, or you're curious about how things work. If I have lost my patience (or lose it in the future), please know it's not your fault. I know I have said before that it's my favorite thing to talk about, but if I'm being honest, it's really not. I'm not going to avoid talking about it or try to keep it a secret, but I only talk about it because it's something I can discuss for hours on end.
Another note - please, please spare me the diabetes jokes. They're a lot less funny when that's your reality. Also, they hurt more than you think they do.
I guess what I'm getting at here is that diabetes is a large part of my life. It affects me daily, to an extent you can't imagine. People tell me they couldn't imagine giving themselves shots every day, that I'm so strong and courageous, that they wouldn't be able to do it. I know they mean well, and I really appreciate the sentiment. But honestly, I would trade anything for it. I'm not brave, I'm just trying to stay alive. You might not think you'd be able to do it, but five injections a day is a lot better than dying so that's the option I choose.
So...I guess that kind of covers it. It's confusing and it's messy and it's anything but pleasant. It comes with other issues, it creates a lot of problems, and it's inconvenient. It creates days like this that end in tears, and it hurts - both externally and internally. And now, once again:
Now that July 18th is over, I think it's time for a little reflection. The day marked the 13th anniversary of my diagnosis with type I diabetes, and to be honest, it was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. It carried a lot of emotion that I hadn't been expecting, and the day in general hurt a lot more than it usually does.
Normally my "diabeteversaries" are happy occasions, days when I get treated to a nice dinner and sometimes even cake! The past few years have been really chill, because after a while it's not such a big deal anymore. I didn't mean for this one to even be a big deal. A Facebook status, a Tumblr post, a tweet or two. Not too much. But I guess it was my own fault that it became a bit bigger, because I talked about this one a lot. I mean, it is kind of interesting that my diabetes is a teenager now. But then I started making it a bigger deal than I even wanted it to be, so much that Claire even made me a cake (which was delicious and so awesome of her - thanks friend!).
It didn't help that my mom sent me this text: "Hey hun, it never ceases to amaze me how much courage you have shown in dealing with your medical conditions. I'm thinking of you on this 13th anniversary. Luv, mama." I overlooked it when I first got it, but when I went to reply later, it just hit me. I wouldn't be alive if it hadn't been for her.
It was a reminder of how fragile my life is, how easily I could lose control, how easily it could kill me. Maybe you don't know this (or maybe you do), but I've had four seizures, including two in my sleep. I've struggled with the temptations of diabulimia (which I'm sure you can find some information about on the Google machine - too much effort to go into it right now), it's been a major source of my depressive times, and I stopped caring for a long time during spring semester this year. No, wait. I didn't just stop caring; I let it take over, I let it get to me. For the first time, I felt defined by it.
Diabetes sucks. It really, really sucks. And I legitimately am sorry that I can't explain it very well to those of you who aren't diabetic. Unfortunately, you just can't know how it affects you unless you have it. I know you can see how it affects me, and you might feel like you get it, but it's just one of those things, you know? One of those things that is just impossible to fully understand until you're the one dealing with it. That's why camp has been so important to me - it's the one place where everyone really understands. I've never had the same connection with another person as I have with Lauren, my best friend from camp. I'm very lucky to have someone like her who understands and has had very similar life experiences.
I apologize for any time ever when I have not been very patient in talking with you about it. I know that you might just want to understand better, or you're curious about how things work. If I have lost my patience (or lose it in the future), please know it's not your fault. I know I have said before that it's my favorite thing to talk about, but if I'm being honest, it's really not. I'm not going to avoid talking about it or try to keep it a secret, but I only talk about it because it's something I can discuss for hours on end.
Another note - please, please spare me the diabetes jokes. They're a lot less funny when that's your reality. Also, they hurt more than you think they do.
I guess what I'm getting at here is that diabetes is a large part of my life. It affects me daily, to an extent you can't imagine. People tell me they couldn't imagine giving themselves shots every day, that I'm so strong and courageous, that they wouldn't be able to do it. I know they mean well, and I really appreciate the sentiment. But honestly, I would trade anything for it. I'm not brave, I'm just trying to stay alive. You might not think you'd be able to do it, but five injections a day is a lot better than dying so that's the option I choose.
So...I guess that kind of covers it. It's confusing and it's messy and it's anything but pleasant. It comes with other issues, it creates a lot of problems, and it's inconvenient. It creates days like this that end in tears, and it hurts - both externally and internally. And now, once again:
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Happiness is just outside my window
I'm thankful daily for the people in my life. Today, it's especially Elane, Steph, Patrick, and Andrew.
I'll explain why later. Much later, when I don't have a test tomorrow, lab the next day, 5 hours of class the next day, 10 hours of class the day after that, and 2 tests next week. So basically, I won't be saying much for a week.
Sorry. :(
I'll explain why later. Much later, when I don't have a test tomorrow, lab the next day, 5 hours of class the next day, 10 hours of class the day after that, and 2 tests next week. So basically, I won't be saying much for a week.
Sorry. :(
Saturday, March 26, 2011
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 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.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Make up your mind to be well
"Catch me, I'm falling."
That line from the song he played for me is haunting me. It plays over again and again and again in my head, but it doesn't bother me. It gives me something to think about.
I'm messed up. Seriously, really messed up. I don't know what it is...maybe you can't really put a label on it. But I have big problems, and it's time to admit that. I need more than just friends - don't get me wrong, friends help. They really do. But friends can't fix me.
I love my friends, an incredible amount. I think we all know that. So far this year, they've kept me going, kept me positive, kept me hopeful. I have so much fun with my friends, and I share everything with them (well...almost everything, and some more than others). They're the ones I rely on for hugs, for held hands, for eye contact. But friends can't fix me.
I want to say it's kind of funny, but it's not. It's odd, but not to me. It's crazy, but not to me. So I'll settle for this: It might be interesting to you, if you don't know me as well as some...ugh. This is making no sense. But I'm not hitting the backspace, because I'm leaving this post as it is (except, of course, for grammatical mistakes). Okay, so. Instead of prefacing it, I'm just going to say it. Someone mentioned me in his weekly report to Mandi last week, saying that I'm always so positive and how it helps keep the rest of the staff positive too. It made me sooooo happy seeing that. I'm really glad that I can help others to be happier - that's what I enjoy most.
But having someone say that I'm great at being positive means that I'm really good at pretending.
Truth is, I'd sacrifice my own happiness any day to make the people around me happy. If someone I love is going to be made happy, I will be miserable (without showing it) if that's what it takes. Because even when I'm miserable, I'm so relieved that someone else is happy that my own feelings don't really make a difference. I just want to make other people happy.
I'm a terrible liar - anyone who knows me can tell you that. But I'm great at pretending to be happy.
I'm sick of the excuses, though. It's not just being sad. It's not PMS. It's not stress. It's not a lack of sleep. Those are the excuses I give to everyone. All those might be true at one time or another, but there's more going on with me. So it's time to do something about it. (This entire paragraph may sound full of determination, but trust me, it's not. I'm terrified, nervous, and dreading this.)
I haven't really been able to see the real problems with my relationship with Ryan before. All I thought was that he was satisfied, and I wasn't. It was good enough for him, but I wanted more. When I've told my friends about it, they've all been horrified, couldn't believe that I had gone through that, told me I didn't deserve it. But I never really believed them. I've said things about it being a terrible relationship, something that no one should have to deal with...but in all honesty, I never really believed it. It took the person who knows me best saying it for me to realize that it's true - it was an emotionally abusive relationship. He had so much control over me, and I still can't let it go. I see all the signs, but I've never accepted that they were true before.
It's time to stop making excuses. It's time to be well.
(Again, you could read that with a sense of determination, but you shouldn't. It's more reluctance and defeat.)
PS - happy 100th post to me...
That line from the song he played for me is haunting me. It plays over again and again and again in my head, but it doesn't bother me. It gives me something to think about.
I'm messed up. Seriously, really messed up. I don't know what it is...maybe you can't really put a label on it. But I have big problems, and it's time to admit that. I need more than just friends - don't get me wrong, friends help. They really do. But friends can't fix me.
I love my friends, an incredible amount. I think we all know that. So far this year, they've kept me going, kept me positive, kept me hopeful. I have so much fun with my friends, and I share everything with them (well...almost everything, and some more than others). They're the ones I rely on for hugs, for held hands, for eye contact. But friends can't fix me.
I want to say it's kind of funny, but it's not. It's odd, but not to me. It's crazy, but not to me. So I'll settle for this: It might be interesting to you, if you don't know me as well as some...ugh. This is making no sense. But I'm not hitting the backspace, because I'm leaving this post as it is (except, of course, for grammatical mistakes). Okay, so. Instead of prefacing it, I'm just going to say it. Someone mentioned me in his weekly report to Mandi last week, saying that I'm always so positive and how it helps keep the rest of the staff positive too. It made me sooooo happy seeing that. I'm really glad that I can help others to be happier - that's what I enjoy most.
But having someone say that I'm great at being positive means that I'm really good at pretending.
Truth is, I'd sacrifice my own happiness any day to make the people around me happy. If someone I love is going to be made happy, I will be miserable (without showing it) if that's what it takes. Because even when I'm miserable, I'm so relieved that someone else is happy that my own feelings don't really make a difference. I just want to make other people happy.
I'm a terrible liar - anyone who knows me can tell you that. But I'm great at pretending to be happy.
I'm sick of the excuses, though. It's not just being sad. It's not PMS. It's not stress. It's not a lack of sleep. Those are the excuses I give to everyone. All those might be true at one time or another, but there's more going on with me. So it's time to do something about it. (This entire paragraph may sound full of determination, but trust me, it's not. I'm terrified, nervous, and dreading this.)
I haven't really been able to see the real problems with my relationship with Ryan before. All I thought was that he was satisfied, and I wasn't. It was good enough for him, but I wanted more. When I've told my friends about it, they've all been horrified, couldn't believe that I had gone through that, told me I didn't deserve it. But I never really believed them. I've said things about it being a terrible relationship, something that no one should have to deal with...but in all honesty, I never really believed it. It took the person who knows me best saying it for me to realize that it's true - it was an emotionally abusive relationship. He had so much control over me, and I still can't let it go. I see all the signs, but I've never accepted that they were true before.
It's time to stop making excuses. It's time to be well.
(Again, you could read that with a sense of determination, but you shouldn't. It's more reluctance and defeat.)
PS - happy 100th post to me...
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
You can't hold me down, 'cause I belong to the hurricane
Talking about sex with guy friends. Straaaaange. I've only ever had conversations like that with my girlfriends, which (of course) have gone much further than the one tonight. It was a very odd conversation, but I must say it was pretty entertaining.
I love being done with homework. OH MY GAAAAWD I love being done with homework. It's such an incredible feeling. I've had three ridiculously difficult exams in the last three days (thus the lack of blogging...sorry). Physiology, microbiology, and pathology.
Also, I had a hard time studying because I've been really depressed lately. But I don't really feel like explaining that right now.
I love being done with homework. OH MY GAAAAWD I love being done with homework. It's such an incredible feeling. I've had three ridiculously difficult exams in the last three days (thus the lack of blogging...sorry). Physiology, microbiology, and pathology.
Also, I had a hard time studying because I've been really depressed lately. But I don't really feel like explaining that right now.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Shattered
I can't even glance up,
afraid to look you in the eye
silent sobs suppressed into shudders
hearing the words you say
and not buying a thing
I don't even try to hide the disbelief,
shaking my head
because it's all I can trust myself to do
please, repeat repeat
repeat
repeat
until I finally believe.
afraid to look you in the eye
silent sobs suppressed into shudders
hearing the words you say
and not buying a thing
I don't even try to hide the disbelief,
shaking my head
because it's all I can trust myself to do
please, repeat repeat
repeat
repeat
until I finally believe.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Lost, fading to grey
My uncle Mike had a heart attack on Monday. Apparently it was a pretty bad one, because he's getting a quadruple bypass right now. Mom told me today, which is Wednesday (why do I always find these things out way after the fact?). I guess maybe she didn't want to stress me out too much, because I started classes on Monday. It's understandable, because I'm pretty stressed out now. I was supposed to call Diana, the PA from Dr. McCashland's place, to get more information about my biopsy, but I couldn't handle that. I'll call her when I get out of class and explain the situation. Heck, maybe I can just stop up there tomorrow and talk to her in person.
I don't have classes tomorrow, so I'm going to UNMC to visit Uncle Mike with Mom and Aunt Sue (who's currently on her way here). Until then, I'll do these things:
I don't have classes tomorrow, so I'm going to UNMC to visit Uncle Mike with Mom and Aunt Sue (who's currently on her way here). Until then, I'll do these things:
- straighten my hair finally
- go to dinner
- go to the basketball game
- have fun
- dance
- laugh
- come back and go to bed
- pray, pray, pray
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Where do I go from here?
Sometimes I just feel lost.
Like everyone around me knows exactly what's going on, exactly what they want.
This is why I hate going with the flow and being flexible. When I follow the rules and keep on the straight and narrow, I know what I want and where I'm going.
But then people have to complicate things. People who know what I don't know, people who are even worse at figuring out who they are than I am.
It's that second set that messes me up. I'm naturally drawn to people who need saving. I want to be a safety net, to be the one that someone credits for rescuing him (or her, of course).
But then...when will it be my turn to be saved?
Like everyone around me knows exactly what's going on, exactly what they want.
This is why I hate going with the flow and being flexible. When I follow the rules and keep on the straight and narrow, I know what I want and where I'm going.
But then people have to complicate things. People who know what I don't know, people who are even worse at figuring out who they are than I am.
It's that second set that messes me up. I'm naturally drawn to people who need saving. I want to be a safety net, to be the one that someone credits for rescuing him (or her, of course).
But then...when will it be my turn to be saved?
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Mess of Me
I'm exhausted. I have not slept enough in the past few days. Maybe that was the cause of my slight meltdown last night.
I feel a lot better today...probably because I've been around people all day. Picking people up from the airport, going to church/lunch/basketball game with my mom, eating dinner with some of my favorite people. Wonderful. :)
Loneliness lingers, though. It always does.
I'm going to go write a letter to you in my you notebook. Just so you know. Something to leave you with:
I feel a lot better today...probably because I've been around people all day. Picking people up from the airport, going to church/lunch/basketball game with my mom, eating dinner with some of my favorite people. Wonderful. :)
Loneliness lingers, though. It always does.
I'm going to go write a letter to you in my you notebook. Just so you know. Something to leave you with:
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Bruises
We just spent two hours talking about death, dying, loss, and grieving in my Communications class. Wow, that sucked. I had to leave the room because I started crying.
Deaths really affect me. Even if I don't know the person very well (or at all), it still really upsets me to think about the family and their loss. I don't know why...I guess it just makes me think about the losses I've experienced in my own life.
When I was in first grade, my teacher had cancer and was gone for a large part of the school year. She died about a year later, and we went to her funeral because my mom was a teacher too. To my 7-year-old self, it seemed like the entire town was there.
My grandpa died when I was 8. I saw how it affected my grandma, who truly needed him in her life. They had been childhood neighbors, dating since high school, married for over 40 years. My mom was the one who had to take care of her after that.
My grandma, to all our family's surprise, lived for ten years and a month after my grandpa's death. She passed away almost three years ago, from complications from diabetes and obesity, as well as simply not taking very good care of herself. I was 18 when she died...the last time I saw her alive, I knew that it would be the last time. We had already had some scares in the year or two before that, so we all knew it was coming. I think my mom took me to the hospital that day just so I could say goodbye. I told her about getting my big scholarship to Creighton, and she told me how proud she was of me. The very last thing I heard her say was as we were walking out of her room - she called the nurse and asked for some strawberry ice cream. I think that's one of my favorite memories about her. God, I miss her so much.
Before that, though, I endured a friend's suicide. I was a sophomore in high school, and Brian was a senior. My best friend (Rachel) and I ate lunch with him and his girlfriend, Jane (who was just a year older than us), every day of our freshman year. It was pretty unexpected, and I think that's why it still affects me to this day. I used to think about him every day...now, it's at least once a month, if not a few times more. Every September 18th, I'm a wreck. The song I remember most from his funeral was "Lord of the Dance" because he absolutely loved dancing and performing, and he had so much faith. Green Day's "Wake Me Up When September Ends" was popular at the time, so that song always reminds me of him too. Looking back, we should have seen it coming. Brian had been taking medication to relieve his severe migraines, and I'm sure that was part of it. He suddenly broke up with Jane just a few days earlier, only a couple weeks before the homecoming dance, and when he tried to get her back she was too upset and said no. He left his favorite sweatshirt with a note saying it wasn't her fault in her car that night.
This year alone, my hometown has been shocked with four deaths...three of which were girls in my graduating class. Kelsey died in August from an epileptic seizure in her sleep. Tonya passed away in October from complications she was born with. Courtney was the only person in a one-car accident in the country between Fremont and Lincoln. Those three shocked me so much...they were in my class. I'm the same age as them. I think the worst part was the idea that it could have been me - I realize how much they're going to miss out on, how much I still have left to do in my life. The fourth death was Don Longacre. We took our cars to him to get them serviced - to the garage he owned with his son, Gary. Don's granddaughter Tanya, who is a year older than me, was in my dance classes for thirteen years. He was such a great community member, and everyone loved him. His death was pretty unexpected - he had a brain aneurysm and collapsed at the garage on a Thursday, and they took him off life support on that Sunday.
Combined with the stress that is this year, I was a total mess when these deaths occurred. I've been a complete train wreck of emotions with every death in my life. But now, it's helpful to look back and appreciate what each of those people brought to the world. I try to remember the great things about each one, and with every day it gets better. God knows what he's doing...I'm sure of that.
Deaths really affect me. Even if I don't know the person very well (or at all), it still really upsets me to think about the family and their loss. I don't know why...I guess it just makes me think about the losses I've experienced in my own life.
When I was in first grade, my teacher had cancer and was gone for a large part of the school year. She died about a year later, and we went to her funeral because my mom was a teacher too. To my 7-year-old self, it seemed like the entire town was there.
My grandpa died when I was 8. I saw how it affected my grandma, who truly needed him in her life. They had been childhood neighbors, dating since high school, married for over 40 years. My mom was the one who had to take care of her after that.
My grandma, to all our family's surprise, lived for ten years and a month after my grandpa's death. She passed away almost three years ago, from complications from diabetes and obesity, as well as simply not taking very good care of herself. I was 18 when she died...the last time I saw her alive, I knew that it would be the last time. We had already had some scares in the year or two before that, so we all knew it was coming. I think my mom took me to the hospital that day just so I could say goodbye. I told her about getting my big scholarship to Creighton, and she told me how proud she was of me. The very last thing I heard her say was as we were walking out of her room - she called the nurse and asked for some strawberry ice cream. I think that's one of my favorite memories about her. God, I miss her so much.
Before that, though, I endured a friend's suicide. I was a sophomore in high school, and Brian was a senior. My best friend (Rachel) and I ate lunch with him and his girlfriend, Jane (who was just a year older than us), every day of our freshman year. It was pretty unexpected, and I think that's why it still affects me to this day. I used to think about him every day...now, it's at least once a month, if not a few times more. Every September 18th, I'm a wreck. The song I remember most from his funeral was "Lord of the Dance" because he absolutely loved dancing and performing, and he had so much faith. Green Day's "Wake Me Up When September Ends" was popular at the time, so that song always reminds me of him too. Looking back, we should have seen it coming. Brian had been taking medication to relieve his severe migraines, and I'm sure that was part of it. He suddenly broke up with Jane just a few days earlier, only a couple weeks before the homecoming dance, and when he tried to get her back she was too upset and said no. He left his favorite sweatshirt with a note saying it wasn't her fault in her car that night.
This year alone, my hometown has been shocked with four deaths...three of which were girls in my graduating class. Kelsey died in August from an epileptic seizure in her sleep. Tonya passed away in October from complications she was born with. Courtney was the only person in a one-car accident in the country between Fremont and Lincoln. Those three shocked me so much...they were in my class. I'm the same age as them. I think the worst part was the idea that it could have been me - I realize how much they're going to miss out on, how much I still have left to do in my life. The fourth death was Don Longacre. We took our cars to him to get them serviced - to the garage he owned with his son, Gary. Don's granddaughter Tanya, who is a year older than me, was in my dance classes for thirteen years. He was such a great community member, and everyone loved him. His death was pretty unexpected - he had a brain aneurysm and collapsed at the garage on a Thursday, and they took him off life support on that Sunday.
Combined with the stress that is this year, I was a total mess when these deaths occurred. I've been a complete train wreck of emotions with every death in my life. But now, it's helpful to look back and appreciate what each of those people brought to the world. I try to remember the great things about each one, and with every day it gets better. God knows what he's doing...I'm sure of that.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Holy crap it's been two months
How is it that my "first relaxing summer in the history of the world" is SO BUSY??? How does that happen? The only time I'm ever on my computer is late at night, and by that point, I'm too tired to write an entry or read all the ones I follow! I'm so very sorry. I apologize to you guys too much, but that's because I leave you too much. Referring to earlier statement: so very very very very sorry.
I haven't even worked on the novel much. I have a couple times, but I'm just not inspired! There's just too much crap going through my head right now that I can't even think about it, which uber-depresses me. But I have started with writing songs...well, it could be rhyming poetry (whoa that's a change), but I have plans to teach myself a bit of piano and actually make them songs.
Okay, so brief rundown:
-worked at home for parents most of May and June (painting bathroom, doing laundry, mowing lawn, buying groceries, etc.)
-went to camp June 17-27 as counselor (diabetes camp...BIG middle school drama story to tell with that)
-started job shadowing in hospital retail pharmacy last week (I surprised myself by enjoying it!)
-between camp and job shadowing, was nearly broken up with because Ryan "needs his space, we don't match, he doesn't want to lose me, he loves me but (looooooong pause) he's not madly in love with me" -- rather depressed and crying lots this week...come sit in the bowl chair with me and hold me while I cry please? (you know who you are))
-back to being okay, but lots of emotion left our relationship...although I still love him since I loved him a hell of a lot...but now I realize things I didn't see before
So there. That's been my summer. And now this week I'm going back to work at dad's office for a bit, then Summer Preview (new student orientation at school)! I'm psyched for that. Oh and John C. Fremont Days this weekend!
Okay, I'm going to go put camp pics on Facebook now. Hugs!
I haven't even worked on the novel much. I have a couple times, but I'm just not inspired! There's just too much crap going through my head right now that I can't even think about it, which uber-depresses me. But I have started with writing songs...well, it could be rhyming poetry (whoa that's a change), but I have plans to teach myself a bit of piano and actually make them songs.
Okay, so brief rundown:
-worked at home for parents most of May and June (painting bathroom, doing laundry, mowing lawn, buying groceries, etc.)
-went to camp June 17-27 as counselor (diabetes camp...BIG middle school drama story to tell with that)
-started job shadowing in hospital retail pharmacy last week (I surprised myself by enjoying it!)
-between camp and job shadowing, was nearly broken up with because Ryan "needs his space, we don't match, he doesn't want to lose me, he loves me but (looooooong pause) he's not madly in love with me" -- rather depressed and crying lots this week...come sit in the bowl chair with me and hold me while I cry please? (you know who you are))
-back to being okay, but lots of emotion left our relationship...although I still love him since I loved him a hell of a lot...but now I realize things I didn't see before
So there. That's been my summer. And now this week I'm going back to work at dad's office for a bit, then Summer Preview (new student orientation at school)! I'm psyched for that. Oh and John C. Fremont Days this weekend!
Okay, I'm going to go put camp pics on Facebook now. Hugs!
Friday, March 20, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
WTF????????
I have had such a TERRIBLE day today. I hated it violently...though not as violently as Michelle last night. :P But still. I'm starting to realize that I only enjoy Tuesdays and Thursdays...know why? Because I have my Lit classes those days, and Chem, Bio, and Philosophy on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays! I hate all my MWF's and I love all my TR's. I've figured it out! I LOVE LITERATURE!!! Honors and World Lit make school worth going to. But it sucks that I only have those classes two days a week. Grrr.
So yeah. It was a sucky day.
So yeah. It was a sucky day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)