ephiphany

small as it may be.

every "job" as its really hard thing...my job has multiple really hard things, like really sick patients, dying, embolism stockings....and wiping people's butts.

for as long as I am a nurse (which is going to be a long time)...I'm never going to get over wiping poopy butts.  i hate it.  i loathe it.  i gag trying my hardest not to show in my face what I am feeling.

but on the way home from the hospital tonight....I realized that today, yes, I wiped butts.  two in fact.  but i also wiped tears. 

and that's why being a nurse will always be worth it...

you know, just the usual night..

there wasn't anything fascinating about today.  I'm sick, have been sick, and am very tired of continuing to be sick.  Wavering between fevers of 100-103.5, basically I've felt like complete crap for days.  On Friday, I slept for 16 hours straight, and was still tired.  I'm over it, and it's really screwing with my school schedule.  So, see ya later fevers and sore throats and antibiotics.  I am optimistically saying that by the end of this weekend I will be sickness free.  So there.

After dinner, showers, jammies and apparent tortuous hair brushing (geez...drama queen) I let the kids pick out a movie.  They aren't feeling well either...and it just felt like a chill kind of night.

and then my little girl asked if she could play with her dollhouse instead...and what mom doesn't beam with pride and say of course!  Carter wanted to watched Iron Man, I was editing some pictures, and I needed to go back to my office.

and there sat my not-so-little girl anymore setting up the family of her dollhouse, taking care of the baby...but most of all, the little moment that brought tears to my eyes...was when the mommy and daddy of her dollhouse family told everyone "I love you." 

I hope that's something I've instilled in her.  Because no matter what, love reigns and prevails and heals.

I know it was just a usual night...a dollhouse and a little girl...but in my heart I hope it was so much more :)

being alone vs. being lonely

I've never been particularly good at being alone.

I almost can't believe I just wrote that, and totally tried to lie,  I love to be alone, and if given the chance would be a hermit.  I'm 97.9% serious.  I don't like to have face to face conversations with people, it makes me nervous and then I go home and analyze everything I've said...I despise the phone, bumbling over myself like an idiot.  I'm not too far gone to realize these are complete self-perceptions, but remain they may.

I guess I meant I've never been particularly good at being lonely.

And sometimes that happens in a crowded room, or alone in my house, or stuck in front of my computer...I feel the lack of affect from not feeling.  I don't that makes sense.  Reminds of the song "The Tin Man" by The Avett Brothers and the chorus:

I miss it
I miss it
I miss that feeling of feeling

the feeling of feeling

I wonder how many people go through this.  Smiling, laughing, participating, talking, engaging but missing the feeling of it all.  I don't want to live like that.  I have so many memories to make with my children, and not because I feel guilty that I only get to see them half the time.  True, lasting memories.  And I want to feel what that is like.  Every second of it. 

I know...another quote from Eat Pray Love, but it really is quite a fantastic book and you should read it....

this is what I'm striving for....

“When I get lonely these days, I think: So BE lonely, Liz. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person's body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.” 

Wow.  This is so true.  And unfortunately, so very very hard to do.  

I'll be working on it, learning my way around it, and just sitting with it.

And so as not to appear completely dark, I'll post a few oldies that make me happy

and hope they spark some feeling that lasts

life isn't always going to feel this way, right?

right.

what a start

Here I am talking about getting back to writing, and I start with someone else's words.  Hmph.

However, in said defense, sometimes people just say it better than you can...

(from Eat, Pray, Love...if you haven't read it, you should, or a hundred times like me :)

"What a large number of factors constitute a single human being!  How vary many layers we operate on, and how very many influences we receive from our minds, our bodies, our histories, our families, our cities, our souls...I came to feel that my depression was probably some ever-shifting assortment of all those factors, and probably also included some stuff I couldn't name or claim. 

So I faced the fight at every level.

I bought all those embarrassingly titled self-help books...I commenced to getting profession help with a therapist who was as kind as he was insightful.  I prayed like a novice nun...I drank enough of that damn St. John Wart's tea to cheer up a whole Russian gulag, to no noticeable effect.  I exercised.  I exposed myself to the uplifting arts and carefully protected myself from sad movies, books and songs.

until finally...I sat down in the middle of the road like that, and said "I cannot walk one step further, someone has to help me."

elizabeth gilbert




p.s. does it ever go away?

hi

Hello.

Nice to see you again, old friend.

Don't have too many words...all my creative juice has been sapped by memorizing the respiratory system and every single thing that could ever go wrong with it. 

I'm desperate for a return to some expression of creativity, lest I become what I most fear...the absolute most boring girl in the world.  I'm gettin' there people, seriously...

So if I can't write all that's on shoulders right now, I'll at least get out a fresh notebook (ie change my header) sharpen some fresh pencils (update pictures) and know that when I'm ready, there will be a better place for me to write.

I'm back....
kinda