Some Push to Know "My Story"

In the last week, I have been slapped in the face, by G-d, several times to get my story figured out. There have been somewhere around 5 or more times that this has come up in this last week. I kid you not!

1. Group therapy
2. Individual counseling
3. Bible study (several times over 3 week's worth of lessons, but I was behind on these particular lessons until just now... like G-d planned me being late on completing them or something...)
4. Church service last night
5. My "fun" fictional reading book about Ruth and Boaz

I know there have been other instances, but I cannot figure them out right now.

WHAT IS THIS PUSH FOR ME TO WRITE OUT MY STORY???!!!???

My story. The reason for the Hope that I have in the L-rd. Why I keep going. 

But who am I going to tell? What is it that they need to hear from it? What is supposed to be used for someone else? It seems so many people around me are sharing their stories in a sentence or two. Am I supposed to keep it that short? Am I supposed to talk of Country Boy's suicide? Of what my childhood was like? How long is it supposed to be? Are we doing the G rated version or something a little more PG to PG-13. Obviously not with too many details, but I can tune those down while painting a picture for people. What audience am I writing for? How many people are there? How old are they? Do we want them to despise the male gender? Do I have to share about exBest Friend's crap? How long or short is it supposed to be ???!!!??? I NEED A RUBRIC AND SPECIFICATIONS!!!

I'm working on it folks. Stay tuned.

Low Pressure System = Raining Babies

I went to a hot springs resort for a few days with my mom and brother about 2 weeks ago. Everything at work was fine before work, but when I started back with labor and delivery... the unit broke. We had so many emergency situations, babies that were not at all tolerating labor, and excessive amounts of blood. Of the last 8 days, I worked 7 and most of those were spent with me stressing over the moms and babies around me. I don't know what happened!!!

We had a low pressure system/pretty bad snowstorm role in and had 6 deliveries in one night and 3 as soon as shift change was complete in the morning. An emergency c section nearly every night and sometimes 2. We had several OB hemorrhages and even bleeding moms come back into the hospital from being at home.

This was my week and I'm so glad it is starting to simmer down for the patients. Now we just have to deal with our staff being sick and recovering from this ridiculous flu that has taken over everybody.



Meanwhile, I've felt so much lighter in my person struggles with sexual assault and trauma, plus the bullshit exBest Friend pulled.

I texted him, because he had been on my heart for awhile, but that ended quickly. He started making jokes about "doing it again" and saying it was a "fun night". Utter betrayal. I guess I was hoping for understanding, for support, for anything of what I though he had been. I needed the guy that drove me to the police station and waited in the lobby for 5 hours. I needed the friend that fought so hard to make me feel better and helped me to study when freshman year of college was getting to be too much.

I don't understand how I held out for his friendship for so long. I've struggled for so long with the way that he's treated me, and others, and his philosophies of life. He was never abusive or mean, but he definitely expected others to take care of him, even though he's a grown ass adult. He's one of those people for other people having millions of dollars, and he wants to live the rich life, but he's not about to go work a different job where he can work up the ladder. Nor would he want to work anything more than his max of 8-4 or 9-5, but let's be real here, he gets out a few hours early every day because he's salary. Then he expected me to make time, out of working 2 night shift jobs with shifts of 12 hours (so essentially, he wanted me to sleep a mere 4 hours a day for 6-7 days of the week). Plus, I was supposed to pay for me and/or him, when we went out places.

Moral of the story, it's been rough because I miss what life used to be, but I must have been delusional about what kind of friendship we had. Think about it, he only hung out with me because he wanted to date me. It's impressive to keep that crap going for over 5 years, but it helped that the crush took a little while to develop in college, and in nursing school, I didn't see him much. Then he had a long term girlfriend. So, what was our friendship anyway?



Lately, between my support group, personal counseling, bible study, and various other places, it seems as though I need to share my story. I'm trying to be articulate about what has happened, but more than the trauma, I was to articulate what G-d has done to get me through. I feel like I've come further in my healing in the past couple of weeks, after weeks of hardcore, constant wrestling with G-d. The yelling at Him; crying, scratch that, sobbing so hard that I couldn't breathe; and otherwise wracking my brain and demanding He tell me why things happened to me the way that they did. Begging Him for peace and comfort and help. I'm still working on some stuff, and He's still showing me things and working on me too. It'll take the rest of my life, but for the first time since Country Boy died (in March 2014), I feel like I can breathe. I feel like I am now being challenged to know and be able to explain why I have the hope and faith in G-d that I do, despite what's happened.

Open Letter to Best Friend

Dear Best Friend,

I recently texted you after 3 months of not talking (my decision). The text was a looooooong apology. I apologized for mixed signals, not sticking to my boundaries, for not being a good friend when you've been so supportive in the past. I told you I have missed you and I have missed having my "best friend" around in a time of great need. The apologies were many, and long, and heartfelt.

What did you text back? You told me you didn't know what to say but that you've missed me too. Then, you gave me a rundown of your last 3 months of life.

I can appreciate that. I can understand wanting to move on and pretend like nothing happened. I get it, I'm not dumb. Plus, I know how guys work and how your brain works because I've studied guys and I know you. I've been around you and talking with you about the deep things of life for 5+ years. I figured you out. You tell me that all the time.

You then proceeded to make jokes and say "we should do it again" and referred to it as "a night of fun". That's when I went from disappointed that you didn't feel the need to acknowledge my pain from the apologies, to beyond angry and my blood went boiling. You had the nerve to shove it in my face that something that has caused me so much pain did, in fact, happen. And then you're going to minimize it and make me feel cheap by calling it a "night of fun" and say that we should "do it again" since we probably won't have a friendship the way we had before.

Fuck you.

I cried in your car. I have explained to you how much this hurt me. I have told you that I don't remember a cursed thing about that night and that I was upset with the decisions you made against my wished and my plans. And you want to make jokes at my expense and expect me to not be upset?!? No. No. No. No. NO.

I don't know why I feel the need to apologize over and over. I don't understand it myself. Probably some disfunction that I also feel the need to compulsively apologize for.

When you begin texting me, like nothing has changed, and I come up with the idea that we stop talking again, don't be surprised. Don't be upset, don't expect anything less. There's a good chance I'm just going to block you again without saying anything. I've tried the friends thing. I've tried to move on, and you make jokes at my expense. You ignored my boundaries. You continued to push me after I was already crying, hyperventilating, and freaking out. It was enough to even freak you out. You took advantage of someone who you knew was already hurting and who had been very clear. You broke my very fragile trust and then decided that I am not worth the dirt on your shoes. I mean nothing to you. I can take the hint.

Foolish me believed that you had my best interest in mind. I was dumb enough to believe that I could forgive and move past and that you would be sensitive to my hurting that I fucking spelled out for you.

Man alive, I'm such an idiot sometimes.

I hope you have a nice life.

Signed,
A girl trying to allow G-d to make Beauty from these Ashes