To Rest in the L-rd

Resting in the L-rd is such a personal thing. Nobody can tell you how to do it. It is necessary for growth, self-care, and improvement of oneself.

There are times in life where there is so much to do, that resting, let alone resting in the L-rd, gets shoved to the back burner. Then, there are times in life where that's all you have.

Personally, I feel I am in a season of rest. For a couple of months now, I have been trying to start a Bible study, attempting to volunteer, and find other ways to make myself busy. In the midst of it, I had a whisper that I'm supposed to just be. That I'm supposed to relax and take in a season of peace.

When I didn't know what that meant and continued to apply for other volunteer processes, G-d continued to suggest it to me in different ways. He kept my email inbox largely silent in regards to the Bible study and volunteer opportunities. He then allowed my mom to suggest that I need to enjoy a season of rest, and a couple of weeks later she reiterated it and told me she is taking a season of rest as well. Continue on to this week where I was lamenting my lack of social and volunteer opportunities to my counselor, and she reiterated the idea of a season of rest.

I don't know how to rest in the L-rd. I don't know what that looks like, probably because I never really have... minus maybe little retreats I've been on with my youth groups. I don't know how to be still and take in alone time with the Good L-rd. I get frustrated when I am told to sit and be quiet, feeling I have no purpose in the time I am still and waiting. I like having a mission, a purpose, a task to complete. A short time ago, G-d gave me instructions to share my story. I feel He proceeded to show me more ways that I could be of service to use my story to help others. I feel like He's given me a life mission, like He's given me a calling and a purpose and a goal to work towards.

Then, in the same breath, He tells me to wait and be still.

How do you do that?!? How do you get a picture of what you are supposed to do, and then get told to sit back and not do it. Don't work towards this picture you've been given. Don't start gathering research and don't start talking to people. Instead, just be. Just relax. Just breathe. Listen to the whisper that is so quiet I cannot hear it.

What am I supposed to do with that?

How does He expect me to get a mission, a battle plan, ideas of how to proceed, and then do nothing?

And how do I then get the mission to "rest in the L-rd" but do it without instructions as to how to rest in Him?

Heaping Scoop of Dissappointment

I applied to graduate school for Nurse Midwifery to a campus that is a sister school to my alma mater. I thought it would be amazing! Go to school and graduate somewhere that is in the same school network... go do clinicals up where my parents live so I can just live with them... everything will be wonderful!

Well, I submitted my application and waited. One day, there in my email box, was an email inviting me to an interview day. Yes, they made a whole blessed day out of it. 8-4, there were 2 interviews (with all 16 of the faculty for the program), seminars from: current students, faculty from your specific specialty (there were other nurse practitioner applicants there too and they split us all up), financial aid, and several other people. Then, at the very end of the day, I had to write an essay! *sigh*

Then, I wait. Wait for their decision. Wait in hopes that I get in. Wait in trepidation that I wasn't what they were looking for, even though I was supposedly chosen out of hundreds of other applicants for this interview day.

This morning, after night shift, I got the call that I didn't get in. It's a bummer.

I called my mom and told her, but not with any more emotion than could be mustered to just state it matter-of-factly. She encouraged me that whatever the L-rd wants to have happen, will happen. "Maybe there are trips or something else you need to be available for," she suggested, in true Mom fashion. "Yeah," was all I could respond.

While I am not at the point of tears (because I believe my give-a-damn was broken with the trauma), I am disappointed. This was my first choice of schools. I have had so many other people apply to graduate school around me, and several of them were accepted to several schools on the first try! I keep hoping that they will email me back and tell me that the first email was a mistake and that I was actually accepted, but that longing seems to be more of the bargaining stage in my journey to acceptance.

It's funny because about a week ago, my mom met this lady who's daughter is one of the faculty members for the nurse-midwifery program at the university I wanted to attend. They got to talking and the lady gave my mom this faculty member's email and encouraged me to reach out to her. So, I emailed the lady, saying that "my mom met your mom and they wanted me to email you" but she never responded. It is awkward to begin with, but worse now that I know I wasn't accepted.

I don't really want to wait until next year to begin school, only because I wanted to graduate 2020 to keep my high school graduation (2012) even with my college graduation (2016) then grad school to be finished in 2020. How pretty is that?! Alas, it doesn't seem like it will happen. Plus, I want to get married and start a family at some point. I was really hoping to graduate and be settled before this happens.

Only the L-rd knows why things happen the way that they do. All I can do is pray and follow His lead.



In less painful news, I quit my position at the NICU. For those of you that haven't read all of my happenings; I was working NICU and L&D, for several months now. When I first moved back here, I was hired for L&D, but there was no position open. I know what you are thinking, why hire somebody for a position that is not open?! Yeah, I'm not sure. Regardless, the managers of L&D decided that they still wanted me, but bargained with me that I could be hired and would need to work Mom/Baby while waiting for an L&D position to open up.

I was so torn. I had had offers for several NICU positions around the state. I didn't want to give up my critical care specialty for anything other than a position that would be able to further my career. As such, I bargained with that manager, and the NICU manager that offered me a position at a level 3 NICU at the same time. I got both managers agree to let me work both jobs at the same time, with working part-time at both places. They both agreed, and both agreed to be "flexible" with my scheduling to assist me with this endeavor.

Fast-forward about a month and a half into working NICU: I have already had several scheduling problems with NICU because the people in charge of scheduling will not email me back after several weeks! My manager called me to yell at me, and I stood my ground. I gave her evidence and explained to her the many, many ways I had tried to resolve the issue, with no success. HR had emailed about how the unit could be improved and I responded with several pages worth of diplomatically worded suggestions. Spoiler alert: none of those changes were made. Shocker, I know. Continue on in my journey there, and I find out about legal actions being taken, they refuse to train me to the level 3 kids (even though I have level 3 experience and they begin training those hired after me to train to the critical kids before me), they continue to con me into working day shift holidays where I am losing time with my family as well as night shift differential. The list goes on!

The reason I stayed so long, is that I thought I needed to work NICU for 2 years before I could get my critical care nurse certification (RNC). About 4 days ago, I was reading over the requirements again, and I discovered I needed 2 years as an RN, but only some of my career needed to be in NICU!!! WHAT A WONDERFUL DISCOVERY!!!

I learned this little tidbit, while I was working L&D and I was nearly singing and dancing in the halls! I told everyone of my coworkers about it!!! Suddenly, my decision was clear: quit NICU. Life is too short to be dreading every. single. shift. Work is not the end-all-be-all of life. We work to be able to afford fun things, trips, food, etc. I don't need to sustain this life of being miserable at a work where management does not treat me well, my license is not safe to practice there, I don't agree with their practices, they continually screw me out of pay while requiring more and more from me, and day-shift (plus many night-shifters) are rude and miserable there as well!

So I quit. Then, I worked an L&D shift and they all celebrated with me. Such joy from my coworkers! They shared how glad they were that I am there. They fought over keeping me on their pod (we have 2 with a little hallway in between). The patients are communicated the same information from everybody, so they are grateful and understanding of the care they receive. (NICU nurses at the other place were regularly told different things from each nurse/nurse practitioner/doctor they encountered because there are no protocols and everybody practices based on how they were trained somewhere else.) While there are still people that I clash with in L&D, we are largely coherent on night shift, and even several of day shift people. They encourage my sarcastic jokes, dark humor, and general personality quirks. They like my hard-work and how much I try to help my patients through labor and delivery. They like that I do my best to continually learn and improve and help others when I can. They understand me better.

I like it here.

New Year of 2017!

Some of you may wonder what I've been up to for the past couple months...

Well, not much besides working. Work is getting better, mostly because I decided to stop bitching about problems that I can't fix, and working on either 1) fixing or 2) avoiding the problems I can. I know avoidance doesn't sound good, but sometimes it's okay. For instance, if there is a particular charge nurse that you do not work well with, it is okay to not sign up for her nights. Whether to simply give yourself a break or to not have to worry about being around her, or both. However, things with her are better, still awkward, but slightly better. I think she's trying to be nicer to everyone.

We have four new girls coming onto night shift in the next few months. One was a med/surg nurse for awhile and the others are new grads, I believe. Ummm, is it just me or does this seem like a bad idea? They are already upset about so many "inexperienced" girls being on the staffing sheet, let's add in a bunch of other complete newbies! I'm not saying we shouldn't give these new girls a chance, I'm just nervous that we don't have near enough experience on the night shift. If they are considering me "experienced", then we have a major issue.

I lost my first baby. Not lose as in misplace, I'm talking lose as in the baby went back to be with Jesus. It was a bitter sweet experience because those babies had a very small chance of survival, for how early they were and the start they had. And, if they had survived, their quality of life would have been terrible. I cried. I was holding it together until my ICU nurse turned NICU nurse friend started crying as she asked if I was okay. I kept baby alive for 10 hours, without sitting down/drinking/eating once in that amount of time.

There were constant drip changes, tests, blood gases, vent changes, glucose tests, IV insertions, bagging, and various other cared during that time. These babies, they were twins, fought so hard. The doctor was called constantly throughout the night and finally came in as all cares were maxed out. Doctor came in, for the third time that night, and he asked the parents if they wanted to pull support. We discontinued and capped off IV's and umbilical lines. We removed all wires we could, without putting the baby through more pain, and we gently swaddled them in the most beautiful blankets we could find. Finally, we removed their ET tubes and handed the babies to shocked parents.

Our worlds can change in an instant. In one moment, we can be excited for new babies, and picking out baby clothes, beds, and the like. In the very next breath, mere infants can float straight up to the Good L-rd's open arms.

That was my first night of 4. Following the 4 nights, I hopped on a bus headed to Home Town and visited a hot springs location with my mom. That week was so wonderful. We have 3 nights and 4 days at the hot springs, threw in a massage (my first massage ever), and had tons of time to talk over life while relaxing in the warm water. Yep, I'm gonna start getting more massages regularly. I'm working on self-care lately. I'm attempting to get an exercise plan and a workout buddy, but we'll see how far I get with that.

Well, that's all I've got for now. It's been 2 years since I met exboyfriend, and it's been over a year since I ever saw exfiance (except when he found me at that bar and the Angry Canadian from nursing school told him off for me.

Flashbacks come more in waves like memories would as opposed to the overwhelming drownings I used to live through on a minute by minute basis. These memories haunt me every day, but I am learning to survive and breathe through the waves and ground myself more efficiently.

Life rolls on and I am getting farther and farther from those guys. Man alive, I can't believe we're already about a month into the new year. Time is just flying by now that school is done.

Suddenly Lonely

I was doing well being here in Small Town. I was beginning to make friends, look forward to things other than work and support group, and I'm even beginning to get my house unpacked. Yes, I have been living in Small Town for about 6 months and I have only unpacked the things that I use...

The closer we get to Thanksgiving, the more I'm missing my Mom. I miss Dad and Brother too, but I'm so close to my Mom. I was going about a week or two without talking to any of my family members, but about a month ago, phone calls to Mom starting coming on nearly every day or two. That's usually about the time I knew it was time to go visit home or have Mom come have lunch with me in College Town.

After calling Dad yesterday and learning that he wasn't able to come down to visit for Thanksgiving, I tried calling Mom but she didn't answer. I called Brother today, twice, but he's still not answering. Seeing as he just got a new girlfriend and his track record for doing family things when he has friends and their families... I'm thinking the odds of him coming down are pretty slim as well.

*sigh*

So, I'm excited for Mom to come down and to also see my other Home State family who are hoping to come down to visit Mema. I hope they get to come down. Somehow, youngest uncle keeps missing family functions with an explanation that he has to work. Mema has recently mentioned that she is not particularly pleased with him at the moment. She also made some comments about exboyfriend that made me think that the rumor has finally reached the family about him getting talked to by the police and probably arrested under sexual assault charges, that were dropped.

I don't know what's going on. Oh the joys of having a family who talks about nothing with the people going through things, but gossip and speculations spread like wildfire. Along with the gossip, comes believing and siding with non-family members, depending on the story that gets told and from whom they hear said tale. Thus resulting in family splitting, rifts, and silent treatments.

The pull for me to find a guy and settle down is not strengthened by current circumstances... if that tells you anything...

Views On Marriage

After the post I wrote about the dating culture found in my generation, I went to church and learned sat through a whole sermon on marriage.

Let's start off by knowing that I had worked Saturday night, decided to stay awake in order to go to Sunday morning church, but needed to be sleeping in order to work Sunday night. Also remember that I need sleep more than I need oxygen. Sleep is my drug, my comfort, one of my main coping tools, and a general excitement to me at any point in time.

Sleep is important to me, that's the moral of that story.

So, instead of sleeping, that Sunday morning, I went to church (a new church to me, mind you), like a good girl... and regretted it. The pastor decided it would be a good decision to talk about marriage and why it is so important to our lives. Super.

He had 3 points, that I cannot recall at the moment, because I was mostly sitting there in zombie mode, tuning out because I was not following his sermon at all. What I did catch, however, was that we read 4-5 verses about marriage out of Genesis 5, and then we NEVER OPENED THE BIBLE OR READ ANY MORE VERSES FOR THE ENTIRE REST OF CHURCH. Instead of reading from the Good Book to talk about how G-d seems to place certain gravity on the importance of marriage, relationships, and the raising of children, the pastor used quotes from people. He used quotes from guys who have probably been dead for a few decades, but once upon a time had written some doctrinal document that is now revered as being more important that G-d's Word. Of all the frickin' subjects spoken of in the Bible, marriage is kind up there on subjects that you can find a plethora of verses for. I'm just sayin'. For the love of Pete, dude, why are you having a sermon about what mere humans have to say about what they think they want G-d to be referring to in the Word instead of simply going to the Word yourself? Ugh, it made me more angry than I probably should have been. I was sleep deprived and already riled up without throwing this on the mix.

The only plus about the church was that there were a few cute guys, but I feel like they were 1) likely already married or 2) not somebody I should be dating if I already know I don't agree with the pastor on a few subjects...

The kid I "broke up" with a couple weeks ago keeps asking me if I am going to church on Sundays. I keep reminding him that I work but that I'll get around to finding a church eventually. I don't know why everybody feels the need to tell me what I need to be doing all the time. I've been living on my own for 4 years now... if I need help I usually call mom, call dad, then ask for help if they cannot assist me. However, for the most part, I am okay with figuring out how to be an adult on my own. Of all the things I have had to learn on my own: dmv, driver's license, college financial aid nightmares..., college admission, FAFSA, car maintenance (with phone assistance from dad in many cases), renting houses/apartments, living in the dorms, getting jobs (since I was 16!)... I've done a lot on my own. Yes, I still need help occassionally and sometimes it's good to get reminders when I'm going through my depression of "hey, maybe you should remember that it's hard to motivate yourself to go to support group, but it will probably help you today." That's a nice reminder. However, harping on me to go to church continually, like several times in a week when it's already only fucking Tuesday, is not going to do anyone any good and you might end up as a patient in the ER.

Anywho, that particular Sunday, I answered his "good morning" text by letting him know I went to a church but didn't like it so the hunt was continuing on. It turned into a 15 message conversation where he kept telling me what I should be doing, which led me to getting angry but trying to stay civil while also not taking any of his shit...

I was still sleep deprived, now irritated after church, and beginning to boil with him telling me what to do repeatedly. He asked why I didn't like the church, but I never told him which one I had visited. I told him the pastor was more worried about what some silly guy wrote as a doctrine a billion years ago that he (pastor) was about what the Word actually said.

He sympathized, finally, with me then suggested I go to Church R. He said it was a solid, Biblically-based church, with great fellowship... blah, blah, blah. Then, I got to reveal to him the church I was so upset with was Church R!!!

Hahaha, oh man, that made me laugh! It was a sick and twisted thing to laugh at, now that I think back, but I finally found words to explain why some of his discussions with me frustrated me so much, without making it personal towards him. This kid is all about doctrine and quoting some dead guy, from generations past, who thinks he found this "missing meaning" in the Bible that doesn't have a whole lot of scriptural backing when the rest of the Bible is considered. It drives me crazy.

Despite this fact, he is fairly kind in our discussions, even though we believe very differently about most things. And, it's allowing me to have chances to figure out what I believe and how to explain it to others with scriptures to reference. So, in a way, it's good to have some "friendly" fights/discussions every once in a while so that I don't become stagnant in my beliefs and forget why I believe what I believe.



My views and beliefs of marriage are still similar and still perplexing to me. I called my Mom crying when I told her all of this and confessed that I feel torn between wanting marriage and feeling completely okay with being single for the rest of my life. The flip-flopping is ridiculous and giving me a headache! Not really, that was an exaggeration. I also wrestle with the timing of when/if marriage will happen for me. My mom, in her patience and wisdom has had to endure listening to me ramble on about this stuff too many times to count. She reminded me that if G-d wants me single, He will make a way that single life is okay, productive, and my life will still have abundant meaning. If, however, He so chooses to provide a husband and allow me to experience marriage, then He will orchestrate the time and person all in His infinite knowledge.

Even knowing all of these things does not always make it easier in the wait. You know what? That's okay. I've found that the things I have wanted most in this life: jobs, my car, getting into nursing school, graduating college, becoming an RN, getting a NICU job, moving away from home then moving to Small Town, and even the dog that we adopted... all of these things are things that I prayed and prayed for, had to wait for, and worked really hard for (minus the dog, mom paid for her). In all of these things, I wanted to take short-cuts, but that only led to heart-ache and unnecessary stress in my life. However, when I waited and took things slow, waiting on G-d's plan and not trying to make things happen how I wanted it, G-d gave me the desires of my heart and I am content with the outcomes because there is peace in the end result when everything is the way G-d needed it to be.

Long-winded response to remind myself to be patient.

Thing Are Getting Better!

This last weekend, Mom and I traveled down to Small Town (where I recently got hired) in order to find a house. I was highly encouraged over the past few weeks from looking at Craigslist. On Craigslist, there seemed to be no end to the amount of cute little houses, with backyards, that were available for rent at cheap prices!

I come from a place that has a lot of people migrating here, and house prices are skyrocketing! It's getting so bad that a 1 bedroom apartment needs about 2-10 people living in it, just to make the rent. I'm not even talking about the nice ones! Naturally, this is an exaggeration, but it's also, sadly, not too far from the truth.

So, when online searches produced many, many cute little houses for my dog and I, I was stoked! Pictures were beautiful, they are close to the hospital, and my heart was soaring at the thought of being able to start my life out with a house.

As it turns out, those houses were crap. I don't know when the pictures were taken, but I'd imagine they were taken about 15 years ago when the house used to be in decent condition. By the time I got there, windows were broken, the house smelled like a racoon up and died in the living room, and I was warned several times about mice making their home in my home...

I don't know about you, but these are kind of deal breakers.

So, after 3 days of literally driving up and down every single street... I was about to give up. I tried to stay cheery so that my Mema (who was helping us navigate the town) and my Mom would not know that I was getting irritated and I was passed my wit's end. Mema told me she thought I was taking the news rather well, and that I always seemed to look at the bright side of this situation. Little did she know, I was fixin' to pull out my hair because it was so frustrating!

Regardless, my mom and I decided it would be okay to stay one extra day to keep looking, just in case. At about 6 at night, we ran across this cute little house. It was rough looking on the outside and there was no "for rent" sign out front, just a small add in the local paper. We called the number and asked if he would be willing to meet with us. He told us it would be 30 minutes. Well, we were already about an hour and a half from the time Mema had supper ready, but we had called her earlier to tell her to not wait to eat with us and to warn her we would probably be late. She told us to do what we needed to do and that supper would be there for us when we were ready.

I looked to Mom and told her it would be a half hour as I silently shook my head to see what she wanted to do. She was enthusiastically saying that we needed to at least see the inside of the house, just to be absolutely sure that I didn't want to live there.

We waited the 30 minutes and a gentleman pulled up in a nice SUV with a woman in the passenger seat. He greeted us and opened the door...

Y'all, that house was beautiful! Wood floors, 2 bed/2 bath/2 car garage, BIG backyard (for the dog), a storage shed out back, a family room, a living room, massive closets, and... wait for it... a massive southern country kitchen!!!!! There is a little laundry room, central heat/air (big deal for where I'm headed because it gets hella hot mighty early), and it's in excellent shape. I even have rose bushes out front! This was a silent desire I had, because I love fresh flowers in the house and I want to get into gardening because I keep "craving" to do something with my hands on my "bad" days. Plus, there is a Chick-fil-a that I can see from my backyard!!! All I have to do is open the back door, go through my back gate in my fence that leads to a little alley, and I'm right in the Chick-fil-a parking lot! The fence is an extra high privacy fence so make sure I don't have problems with people peeking in, and the house is in a super quiet, super safe neighborhood close to many of the stores and shops I need. It's also only about 10 minutes from the hospital I'll be working at.

So, we let the guy know that we really liked the house. He gave me an application and told me he would call early the next morning. My mom asked for a $100 rent discount, seeing as this rent is about $200 above what I had originally hoped to spend each month. I told him that I could even sign a 2-year lease agreement if that helped, since I would be signing a 2-year employment agreement with the hospital. *I was offered a 1 or 2 year contract, with differing bonuses. My personally requested sign was that the L-rd would allow me to get a rent discount if I were to sign a 2 year lease.*

He called back next day, just as I was about to call him to let him know my mom and I needed to hit the road so that we could make it back home before my mom's clients came in. He said he would meet us at the house to get the deposit and so we hugged Mema, told her bye, then headed over. While signing, I learned that his business partner used to be a pastor and I believe they both go to church together... So I'm hoping this is a good sign that they'll be good landlords! Please L-rd, let them be good landlords!!!

Anyway, I signed the lease and he gave me the keys!

Y'all, I am so beyond stoked. I will have to work extra days in order to ensure that I can save on top of paying my bills and rent, but I think it will be do-able. I'll just work some extra holidays and make sure to sign up for holidays. The NICU down here has no problem giving over time, because they usually have lots of babies, and then seasons of very few babies. However, being a full-timer, I will have priority in making sure I get my hours in when I am scheduled.

It's one of those times in life where I am overwhelmed with the amount of blessings the L-rd has bestowed upon me in such a short amount of time. I knew He was probably going to wait until the last minute to give me a place that my heart was desiring. He tends to wait until the absolute last minute, while letting me go and see what could be, so that I understand how big of a blessing He is actually giving me. Let me tell you, the stress and frustration was so worth it because He worked it all out absolutely perfectly.

I am blessed. I am humbled. I am completely overwhelmed and shocked at the magnificent gloriousness that G-d works in my life every single day.

I'll keep y'all updated.

Graduation Came and Went, but It Turned Out Happy!

My last post was about how I was all sad at school ending. I had just finished my last final and instead of relief or happiness, I was feeling sad. Well, it's okay. Despite how difficult, frustrating, and down-right draining nursing school was, it was kind of my identity and a time of stressful excitement in my life for the past 3-4 years! The end of that is relieving, in some ways, but I've learned it's okay to be mildly sad at the ending because it's the end of a major life era.

Through nursing school/college I've:

• had countless highs and lows
• gained and lost friends
• was encouraged in my calling
• was told I would never get into the program, and then did get in!
• I went through many traumatic events, all in a 2 year time-span
• learned new things about myself
• lost pieces of what I htought was important about me, but gained new insights and strengths
• learned the basics of how to "be a nurse", according to textbooks
• had countless instructors, patients, friends, and family tell me that I was made to be a nurse
• I've cried and laughed with patients
• cuddled babies
• held the hands of people in the dying process
• celebrated "little" things with patients and families of patients
• been able to care for those who nobody else would touch
• and so much more

These things were my life. These things comprise a major part of my life and nursing school has consumed my every thought for at least 4 years! The end of such a monumental milestone is allowed to be a time of mixed emotions. Throw in the fact that I have friend and family troubles, I am recovering from PTSD, and shit is about to get real as far as my real life starting, and it's completely understandable why I was overwhelmed at a time where most people are supposedly happy.

I have talked with several of my friends, both nursing and non-nursing, that graduated with me on Friday, and they are having similar mixed feelings about graduation. Many of us are waking up in a panic because we feel we need to be in class, thought we are done now. Others are sad school is over because some of us are moving to other states and we may never see each other again, let alone every day!

Graduation is a happy time, but it's okay to be overwhelmed, sad, anxious, nervous, and a host of other emotions. Being able to feel all of these is part of what makes us human and helps us concrete these huge monuments in our memory bank.



I'll tell you a bit about how my graduation weekend went, though, just in case you were wondering...

Thursday: Pinning went well. My Mom pinned me, but Mema and Brother were able to go up on stage with me. It was a great ceremony and the Nurse's Pledge really got to me. As I was reading it with my classmates, and my family and friends listened to me promise my life for the career of a nurse, I was able to reflect and realize that nursing is my calling. The pledge sounded like it was written for me!

Friday: Graduation was wonderful! My mom's sister and her husband drove down with us. Then Brother and Dad met us at the event center. Everyone loved my cap, except my peds professor (who I've had serious problems with all semester and who mocked it in front of the other professors to my face!). I put RN but instead of "Registered Nurse" I wrote out "Redneck Nurse" and put it on camo back ground. I'm known as the class redneck and so many of my classmates and friends loved it! What's even better is that when my peds professor was mocking my cap, the other professors chimed in and told me how cute it was and how creative I was to come up with that. So, it made me feel a bit better. I got lots of pictures and had a grand ol' time during graduation. The nursing class was in the back of the graduate seating, and many of us were talking and laughing the whole time because getting through 1000+ students all graduating takes a long time! Many nursing students wore their stethoscopes as cords and I even graduated Cum Laude! I was so close to the next highest gpa, but graduating with honors at all was an accomplishment that I am very proud of.

Saturday: This was the day of my party. Many people RSVP'd, so I got food for about 50-60 people and rented a park. Unfortunately, only 3 of my friends, one of my uncles and his family came, and then two sets of family friends came. Well, my Mom, Dad, and Brother came too. It was cold and rainy, so my dad was surprised that anyone came at all, but the people that did come went out of their way to make sure that someone came to celebrate with me, so I was glad for that. I think I should have planned it for a different weekend, because so many people were having parties that day. However, it was disappointing, yet a good time to practice "spinning" the situation to find the silver lining. The spin is: the people that came are all so very dear to my heart, I was glad to be able to spend lots of time with each of them individually instead of being overwhelmed by the amount of people who showed up.

So, it was a good weekend. My favorite day was graduation. I got so many photos with friends. I shared a lot of smiles and hugs. The whole day fell into place and G-d worked out the whole weekend just the way it was supposed to be. I'm so very glad for that.



Ladies and gents, I would like to present to you... ME! I graduated counseling, nursing school, and I am beginning my adult life with a job right out of college. Life will not be easy by any means, though many days I wish it were. However, I know that sometimes the L-rd blesses others through the struggles I have and the L-rd blesses me through different events, both seemingly good and bad events. Life is a journey. It's hard, fund, and every changing. All we can do is hold on for the ride and pray that someday, our life makes a difference and we learn the lessons we are supposed to learn while here on this earth.

I'm approaching this next phase in my life with cautious optimism. I'm terrified, but I see the L-rd working every day. Most days are still a struggle, but I'm not bed-bound anymore. Even today, when it's cold and cloudy and I have nothing I really need to do, I pulled myself out of bed and got my butt to Starbucks. I'm making baby steps in my healing journey and graduating counseling is proving to be a struggle. However, I know that I can go back to counseling at any time, but it is meant to be a temporary crutch as opposed to a new life-long sentence/expense.

I graduated!

Now I'm: BedpanAlley, BSN!

I have to catch myself, I keep calling myself a nursing student instead of a newly graduated baby-nurse... I'll fix that in time. Maybe someday I'll begin to feel like a nurse, but the learning will never end. Good thing I love to learn, right?

Oh the Legal System

My Thursday was spent at the courthouse this week. I went in and was there at probably 7:45 a.m. It took me about an hour and a half to fill out all of the pages for a restraining order. Then, I filed it and sat in a courtroom with 20-30 other people waiting to have their cases read by the judge to see if each of us would have our individual petition awarded or denied.

I wasn't the last one to file, but I was the absolute last one that was called to be talked to. I don't know if it is because the judge wanted to think about it more or because there was some other reason. It doesn't matter. I was last.

It was denied.

Normally, when she denied a protection order for the others, she would thank them for their time and that would be the end of it. When she denied mine, she told me she was going to deny it, but she told me it was okay for me to disagree and that there were other avenues I could take to get it accepted. She said I could get a lawyer and try to go farther. Again, she said this to nobody else the entire day. The courtroom was nearly empty. Maybe she saved me for last so she could tell me this? I think she wanted to grant it to me, but she got hung up on the immediacy of his threat to me. He hasn't texted me in a couple weeks so she said she hoped that would be the last time he would try to contact me.

I was followed into the hall by a domestic violence advocate. This sweet lady had helped me fill out all of the paperwork and had gotten me ready for court. She is the contact my counselor has been trying to get me in to see for a few weeks now and I am so glad she did.

When the advocate (now her new name for this blog) followed me into the hall she told me she was sorry and that my case really should have been approved. She seemed disappointed, but I don't know why. I figured she told everyone this because after many of the cases were denied, a different advocate would follow them into the hall and hand them a business card. So, I blew it off and figured she was just trying to get me to feel better. I wasn't shocked by the denial, though I had really hoped for it to be approved. Advocate told me she would talk to a lawyer, if it was okay with me, and also my Counselor to let her know what happened. I told her that was totally okay. Then I left.

I got onto the elevator and walked the two blocks back to the parking garage where my car was parked. It's all a haze now. I've grown accustomed to living life in a haze when things become difficult for me. By the time I got to my car, I had already called my mom 2-3 times. She didn't answer so I figured she was with a client. I called Brother when I was in my car but he didn't pick up. That's when the sobbing began. It was uncontrollable. The kind of sob I haven't had since a few days after Country Boy died and there is a gut wrenching noise that escapes my lips but comes from deep within. The kind that increases the pain and that people experience when they've lost someone they love dearly after a trauma. This is the kind of sob that will rip you in two if you truly allow yourself to be taken over by the pain.

15 minutes of this, I pulled myself together and knew I needed to go home to get my backpack for school. I hadn't expected to stay at the courthouse all day so I didn't think I needed it when I left that morning.

I cried the whole way home. There was a constant flow of tears, but not the sobbing. I was okay to drive, though the road was blurry.

When I got home, I collapsed onto my bed and the sobbing began in earnest again. I can't remember if I called my mom, or if she called me, but we talked on the phone. The conversation went a bit like this:

me: Mom! She said no

Mom: Oh honey, I'm so sorry!

me: I can't do this anymore (barely understandable because crying began)

Mom: It's just a roadblock, it must have needed to happen this way for a reason

me: But I'm so sick of this life! I don't want to be here anymore! (I don't even know how she knew what I was saying because my hyperventilation methods had kicked in really hard and I don't even know what words were supposed to be coming forth from my mouth. I sure as hell couldn't figure out what someone were saying if they were talking like that. I mean, it took me like 5 minutes to spit out those few words!)

Mom: Honey, I need you here. I know this is hard, but just stay here with me. Start thinking of fun stuff, put in a kids movie. What makes you happy?

me: Nothing!!! Nothing makes me happy! I don't want to do this anymore *sobs, ineffective breathing patterns, hyperventilations, periods of hardcore apnea*

Mom: Sweety, what else do you have today?

me: Just meeting *sobs* with my group *sobs* for a *sobs* group project *sobs* and then *sobs* class. But *sobs* I'm not *sobs* staying *sobs* for claaaasss! *apnea*

Mom: Okay, well just focus on breathing. Go meet with your group really quick, play happy music in your car, and then I'm coming down.

me: No, Mom. You don't have to come down today.

Mom: Okay, I'm coming down tomorrow after work. Just think about happy stuff. Funny animal videos, what about your barn with all the rescue cows that you like on Facebook? Go watch Veggie Tales. Don't think about court, just focus on happy things. Then come home and you can sleep and watch good, happy movies.

me: O-o-o-o-k-a-a-a-a-a-y *sobs, apnea, sobs, apnea*

Mom: I love you. Stay with me, I need you okay? I love you so much.

me: I love you too Mom.

We hung up.

My group was so supportive. I showed up 30 minutes late and looked like crap. My eyes were red, splotchy, swollen, and glassy. I apologized for being late and they said no problem, are you okay? I replied that I was okay and that I was just having one of the worst days. They were so sweet and just told me that they made me the dad in our little skit. I said, "I am so sorry! Are you sure I can't help anymore? I feel really bad I'm so late!" They told me it was okay. I said I was going to go ahead and go home, I wasn't staying for class. I said I had been at the courthouse all morning dealing with legal stuff and I was just stressed beyond belief. They told me to go home and get some rest. They asked if it all got sorted out but didn't press me for details because they saw I didn't want to talk about it.

How can my group, with a couple of the nosiest and most gossipy girls I have ever met in my life, be able to accept that I didn't want to talk about it? Yet, Jersey expects me to share all details of my life and then she wants to go share it with everyone she passes on the street and ever single person in our class? I don't get it!

So, I was there for a solid 5 minutes before leaving.

I headed home, but stopped by Brother's work on my way there. I told him what had happened and the tears started before the story. He came around the counter and hugged me for a solid 10 minutes while I just stood there grasping onto him for dear life, as if I were drowning, and sobbing into his shirt. My sleeves were soaked with the tears I had been wiping since I left for the group project and that was after changing sweatshirts because my other sweatshirt's sleeves were beyond soaked. So many tears!

He told me to go home, take a nap, and not worry about anything else that I needed to do that day. Then, text him when I woke up and let him know I was okay. I asked if mom had called him and he said she had. "Was she worried about me" I asked. "Yeah, she's super concerned but didn't really tell me why."

My poor family, having to deal with this crap from me. I know they love me, but I feel like such a burden because this will never end. In fact, this is all about to get significantly harder.

Next day, (Friday) was counseling. I hadn't gone on Tuesday for my session because my clinical schedule was changed without much warning. So, I only had one session this last week. That's not good. I'm on a two session a week schedule because I just can't handle my head for more than a couple days at a time on my own.

Counselor told me, first thing, that Advocate had talked with me. She asked if I wanted to talk about it. I said sure and went on for a couple minutes. I told her what the Advocate and Judge told me. She looked concerned. Then I asked if Advocate says what she told me to everyone. I asked if Advocate usually says that it can be taken farther and that a Lawyer should be consulted to get my case heard and the restraining order put in place. Counselor said that she has never seen Advocate try so hard to fight for a case. That is encouraging. I figured it was just the norm, but I guess she sees the danger that I'm sensing here. I told Counselor that I thought the Judge did too and that I thought she actually wanted to give it to me, but was hesitant because of the exact wording of the law. Counselor told me to believe that thought.

So, I went from feeling absolutely insane because I was denied a protection order, because I thought that meant the judge didn't believe me, to now believing that these women actually see the danger and the scariness of the situation but we have to work around the laws.

Guys, I'm telling you, this back and forth is making my head hurt. However, it's encouraging to have so many women who have seen other cases who all want to fight for me because they believe me when I tell them what has happened.

I don't know where I'm going from here or what will happen, but that's for the L-rd to know and orchestrate.

I heard from someone who I recently met, that ex-fiance is well known for beating girls and for being a sex addict... Yikes. This makes me so sad that I ever had to meet him. I hate that my story has gone from a happy, kind girl, to a story of so much pain that I don't even want children or a boyfriend/husband anymore.

Brother to My Rescue

I talked with Mom today about reporting the guys. She couldn't really talk and express her thoughts because Dad was home and he still doesn't know what happened. In fact, he's still mad at me about exfiance.

It breaks my heart that I cannot go to my dad for support with this stuff because he would have a heart attack or stroke, probably both. He would call his brothers, and all of them and all of the buddies he calls would end up in jail with either murder charges or charges for severely beating exboyfriend's and exfiance's asses.

While I understand and appreciate the sentiment, all I want is for him to hug me and tell me he's sorry that it happened to me. I want him to tell me he is there for me and wants to support me. I want to know that he still sees me as his little girl even though I've been dragged through the mud and the muck and am defiled in the worst ways possible. I want him to tell me he believes me and that we will get this whole mess sorted out legally and nobody but the guys that can't keep their dicks to themselves will be ending up in jail and probably, eventually, prison.

That's what I want. But that's not how life works.

So, I told my Mom that I have been seriously considering reporting these guys today. That took a lot of guts on my end and I was hoping she would be supportive. She couldn't even say what was on her mind but she told me it is a bad idea because it will get back around to the uncles, their families, Mema, and then Dad. Therefore, she said, it is better for me to not report it so that Dad and the family don't find out and don't have backlash.

Excuse me for believing that reporting these assholes was going to better the world somehow. Forgive me for finally being able to see beyond not wanting to hurt them in their lives even though my life is completely ruined, I have worse psych problems than before, and I'm hanging on by a fucking thread! Apparently trying to lock these fuckers away so that they don't do this to any other girls is the wrong thing to do an I should deal with this bullshit on my own for the rest of my life, because I'm going to die alone caring for everyone else but me. Pardon me, it was my bad. Social justice cannot be served in the way that would prevent this from happening to others. Legal justice cannot be served to prosecute them at all.

Maybe my life should just fade away so that my family and friends won't have to suffer through the psychological problems of having people doubt my PTSD symptoms, my stories, the bruises he gave me that I used to hide, the cuts that have turned to scars that I continue to hide, and the fact that I don't want to wake up anymore. No, I won't kill myself, but maybe if I moved to another state and changed my name, then nobody there would have to know. I wouldn't be traceable. Then, maybe for the people I leave in this state, their life will be easier and they'll be none the wiser. I'll be a runaway but nobody will bat an eye because life will be about a billion times easier.


With my mind reeling from the phone call with Mom, I called Brother. She mentioned that I should because we had a football game on today (the Super Bowl...) and she suggested that he come over to my place to watch it since he's having problems with his roommate. Heading her advice for this, I called him up, but I figured he was probably at work. Turns out he was. We exchanged the customary small talk but I brought up reporting the guys. He asked if I had been thinking about it, and I told him I have been for a few months now. Really, I've been thinking about reporting them since the them was only a him after the first one. But I've been more seriously considering it in the last few months. He told me I should do it and that he'll support me if that's what I feel like I need to do, or he said he'd continue to support me if I feel like it's okay that they don't get reported.

I broke down and started telling him about the conversation with Mom. For the most part, I try really hard to not cry around him because he doesn't need that kind of stress.

I am an ugly crier. Like uglier that ugly. There is snot, blubbering, and eye leakage EVERYWHERE! Even on the phone, the listening party gets snot and tears on their shirts. I don't know how, but it's a gift I have.

In the process of me telling him that she told me not to report the guys because of dad and the family, he told me that he understands that. I do too. We have spent most of our lives sharing the good with Dad and avoiding the bad because he doesn't take it well. However, he suggested calling Mom, telling her to act like she doesn't know anything, and then me sitting both parents down and telling them together. I feel bad lying, but it seems like the best way. I told him I'm scared Dad is going to blow up the way he did when I wrecked my car and how he blew up when exfiance went up to ask for Dad's blessing. Brother told me that if Dad says anything negative or hurtful or how what happened to me is ruining his life (as he usually argues everything that I do ruins his life) then I just leave. I get in my car and I head to Brother's house. However, that way Dad would be finding out when Mom is finding out (supposedly) and so maybe he will take it better. I still think he's going to have a CVA and an MI (CVA-cardiovascular accident, aka stroke; and MI-myocardial infarction, aka heart attack). He may also call up his brothers and go through the previously mentioned story that lands him and a bunch of guys in jail before the guys that actually hurt me can end up in jail or prison.

I love my dad. Truly I do. I am a daddy's girl to the bone and love spending time with him. I absolutely love my Dad. He has a laundry list of mental illnesses and that makes life difficult. And, for selfish reasons, I absolutely hate that I cannot tell him the things that are going on in my life. I want so desperately to tell him everything. I want to explain why I call exboyfriend and exfiance dicks when I tell stories about them. Dad defends them every time, saying that he "likes the kid" and it's like a fucking knife to the heart. He doesn't know what he doesn't know, but if your daughter calls someone a dick and she does not do that on a regular basis and she is typically very happy and forgiving, maybe there is a problem there.

I hate that I cannot do what I need to do because I have to worry about dad reacting poorly. Oftentimes, his reaction is worse than whatever situation I am going through. For instance, my wrecking my car. I was shaken up, but I survived with no injuries. I was stressed majorly, but able to compose myself to do what I needed to do and call a tow truck, my mom, and get my car fixed. When he answered the phone for my mom, my heart sank. When I got home from my mom picking me up, he yelled at me for a solid 20 minutes because I was ruining his plans and his life. I was being an inconvenience and he made it sound like I got in a wreck on purpose just to fuck with his life. I guarantee you, I did no such thing. It's an accident. Accidents happen. I'm almost certain he's been in a few wrecks himself. I backsassed him and told him to not worry about it because I was going to fix it. I didn't get in the wreck to be an inconvenience and I am an adult and can fix my own mistakes.

He proceeded to ignore me for a few days until I brought up a conversation with him.

When exfiance went up to ask for his blessing, he told exfiance yes. Then called me and told me it was a huge mistake. He yelled at me, over the phone, for a solid 45 minutes on the day of the big date I had planned for exfiance and didn't let me talk at all. He kept talking about how I wasn't mature enough and that he regretted his first marriage from when he was 25 to some crazy lady in town. Whatever, that's not my fault. I wanted to yell back at him but there is no reasoning with him. He told me the same things over and over and over again until he had to go back to work. The essence of which was: I am not mature, I'm an idiot, I'm too young, he hates his life, he regrets his first marriage, he regrets his second marriage, and he regrets having kids.

I ended up saying yes when exfiance asked at the restaurant and I had the ring on my hand for a couple days. I ended up going home a day or two after the date and he refused to look or talk to me because he heard through my mom that I had said yes. I broke up with exfiance a couple days after that and Dad still didn't talk to me for weeks until I started talking to him.

Do you see the pattern? Do you understand why we don't tell him anything? Yes, we should tell him stuff, but we can't because he loses his shit every fucking time. It makes our situation 20x more miserable than if we just suffer through it alone. Then he wonders why we don't tell him anything...

Brother asked if telling them together and leaving if there was a problem sounded do-able. I told him I think it was a better idea than just flat out telling Dad, but I told Brother I don't think I can do it. Planning for it and actually carrying out the plan are two completely different things. I'm having panic attacks just thinking about telling Dad and they get worse as time goes on. However, I get so much more nervous when I am about to do it. I almost crapped my pants just asking my dad if I could go to prom. Telling him I've been ruined? I think I'd pass out from shame and nervousness. Brother ended the conversation by saying that he would go with me to take care of Dad and be my support. He told me before he offered to come with, to ignore Dad and let him (Brother) take care of Dad if he flew off the handle, like he normally does. Brother is the one who got Dad to start talking to me after exfiance asked for Dad's blessing. Brother told him to stop taking it out on me and to trust in the way Dad and Mom raised me. After that, and several weeks of reflection, Dad told me that that helped him "forgive me". *Just remember, everything that happens is my indirect way of making sure that I completely fuck up his life (that was complete and total sarcasm).* So, Brother is going with me, if I ever get the balls to go up and talk to them about everything.

And, where he comes from, domestic violence and rape are not called by those names. The country is old-school and they believe football players can do whatever they want as long at they take their team to state. Husbands can hit their wives because their wife must have done something to piss him off. Children can be physically punished to the point of bruises, broken bones, and other serious problems because they must have fucked up badly enough that they needed that kind of punishment.

Granted, not every person that lives in the country believes this way, but I've heard the mean things they say about a high school girl that reported her boyfriend for raping her a few years ago. They say that she was just mad that he broke up with her. She's just trying to get attention. He didn't do anything wrong, she made up stories to get him put away. And others. There are so many others.

When you hear about domestic violence, child abuse, and rape stories, how many of these occur in the country or in the woods? A lot. It's because not a whole lot of people are around, it's easier to do your own thing without anyone ever figuring anything out. Plus, their mindset is usually very different.

That makes me feel a bit crazy. Am I being over dramatic and making stuff up? How will this effect my uncles, aunts, and cousins? Will I be able to ever go back there? What if I run into a family member or friend of one of the guys? How much worse can my name be drug through the mud? THIS IS NOT A CHALLENGE TO ACTUALLY SEE HOW MUCH WORSE IT CAN GET!!! These are just the wonderings in my brain. This stuff keeps me up at night. I wake up in cold sweats.

I keep waffling between knowing that they need to get locked up to wondering if people will believe me to being terrified of what will happen with my Dad and extended family.

I talk to my counselor about all of this on Tuesday. I can make it until then, I think.

Marriage

I've been thinking a lot about marriage lately. Marriage isn't about finding the "right" person, it's about learning how to love more unconditionally. We're learning to love how Yeshua (Jesus) loves and how Adonai (G-d) loves us. Good job Eric Church for figuring that one out (song titled: "She Loves Me Like Jesus Does"). None of us can be an absolute "right" person because we all sin. Marriage is about learning how to walk along side someone who is selfish, has bad days, can do/say hurtful things, and otherwise do things that the world tells us we have a "right" to not forgive them for. Is that the model set up in the Bible? Not even a little bit. Look at the profit who married a prostitute. She continued to cheat on him, yet, the L-rd told him to stay with her and love her. He was instructed not to sleep with her, I think, but he was supposed to remain with her. Now, I'm not saying that you stay with your spouse if they are cheating on you, abusing you, or otherwise putting your and/or your family in danger. Seek help, talk to the L-rd, and determine what you are supposed to do. However, time and time again the L-rd tells us to forgive. Yeshua told us to forgive 77x7 times (in other words, continue forgiving. So why would we need to do that for strangers and friends and not for spouses? I have seen so many marriages implode because each spouse starts keeping a tally of what the other person did or didn't do and so they feel justified in not serving the other person as the L-rd serves us. Marriage is only temporary, it's only for our short lives while on earth. Being with the Creator is eternal. Our lives, it seems to me, are not about finding a battle partner and procreation for this life, it is about being molded into people who are more like G-d. Look at David. He was a man after G-d's own heart. He messed up royally, but he repented and worked towards allowing the L-rd to right his wrongs and take control of the situation. He worshiped the L-rd and continued to serve and minister to Him (G-d). David also had wives, concubines, and loads of children, but that is not what his life is about. That is not the picture we see in the snapshots that are kept in the Bible/Tanakh for us to study. Marriage, and life, is about extending forgiveness, grace, kindness, and loving your spouse as much as we love ourselves (or more) because that is how G-d loves us. Yes, marriage is about having a partner and continuing on the human race, but there is so much more than companionship and kids. Love is a choice and it can be a powerful choice.

Isaiah 54 paints a picture of the L-rd forgiving Israel after He had divorced her earlier in Isaiah's book of the Bible. This chapter describes Jerusalem as a woman who is currently childless and a widow, but it tells her to prepare to be "bursting at the seams". She is instructed to expand her house and she is promised a house made of saphires and gems. To me, this chapter sounds like a prophecy. It talks about her being protected in the land they are about to go into (so it is a prophecy that was taking place in their near future) but it also talks about things that are mirrored in Revelation and the other scriptures about how Yeshua is going to prepare a place as a bride-groom prepares a house for His bride. The house sounds like the house in Heaven that is described, and it sounds like what I will call a near-far prophecy. It talks about a government that is just and fair as well as all citizens being taught by G-d (as is said about heaven). It was occurring in Israels near future and also the more distant future. Please, read this chapter for yourself.

Anyway, it talks about G-d's promise of peace never being broken and the L-rd having mercy upon her (his people). It is home of the verse that says, "...in that coming day, no weapon turned against you shall succeed..." It also says the Creator will be Israel's Husband. It specifically states, "For a brief moment I abandoned you. But with great compassion I will take you back. In a moment of anger I turned my face a little while, but with everlasting love I will have pity on you, says the L-rd, your Redeemer." verse 7-8.

Does this form of anger or turning away not sound like how guys, and often women, handle disagreements and fights sometimes? I know that in the fights I have had with Brother, Dad, exboyfriend, fiance, and other men (sometimes even with women), the men tend to need to take a moment to walk away. Having been reading many books on male behavior lately to try to understand fiance's point of view so I can better know how to relate and love him, it has been stated again and again that men often need space to think when women often need to be able to talk about issues for hours, often rehashing the same things over and over, until they feel they have thoroughly looked at every nook and cranny of the issues and they feel there is a satisfactory solution to the issue. In the passage above, G-d is taking time to calm down because He loves His people so dearly, but they messed up really badly. It's almost like G-d was showing women that it is okay for men to need space after an argument to process and calm down because that is how He wired them and sometimes that is what He does too. We are made in His image and both genders have different characteristics that mirror His as well. Dealing with arguments seems like it would not be needed to mirror Him, but we obviously do. But G-d uses the metaphor of marriage to show us how deeply He loves us and how greatly He forgives us even after doing horrendous things. His mercies are unfailing. Marriage, much like many things, are simply a tool He uses to give us tangeable ways to see and experience His love more deeply and to understand a fraction of the pains He feels as He watches and supports us through the earthly adventure, desperately desiring us to be back with Him.

Just some thoughts that I had bouncing around my head for weeks now. I told some of these things to my friends over the past couple days and they told me they are worried about how I view marriage. They tell me that marriage is about finding the right person and if I do that, then everything else will just work out. My thought was that divorce rates are high and I think it is because sometimes divorce is understandable, but sometimes people go into the marriage wanting a happily ever after and life isn't necessarily about happily ever after on Earth. Marriage takes work. The Bible says that your own body is not even yours anymore because you were bound with your spouse so women cannot hold out sex all the time because men have that inherent need for it. That is because that is how G-d wired them to be able to feel loved and so that they can have a place that they can let their guards down. Read "for women only." It was very helpful for me. There is one for men ("for men only") and you can get the set ("for couples only"). I bought them on Amazon and it brought up a whole slew of other books that talks about couples and how each spouse should relate to each other from a Biblical or Christian standpoint. There are probably Messianic books too if you are interested.

Don't take my words as stone, this is merely a quick brain dump before I rush off to clinicals because my Messianic devotional ("The Voice of the Lord") reassured me of my theory that I had just gotten discouraged about after telling my friend about it yesterday. She is a believer but did not like this thought, I feel like it was a G-d revelation though. Oh well.

More Suicides!?!

Dad's friend's wife just committed suicide. Nobody knew she was depressed until they found her suicide note. She sat in a closed garage with all of their cars running and I think the husband found her. I'm still numb.

It's been a year since Country Boy died.

At lunch mom wondered how nobody could tell she was depressed. I mentioned that many people don't know when others are depressed and brought up that I have been depressed since 5th or 6th grade and she didn't know. She got sad and asked if I had ever had suicidal thoughts. I told her I tried at least 5 times in 8th grade. Mom started crying. Brother was there and he didn't know what to do. I didn't either and I still feel so bad for breaking my mom's heart like that but shouldn't she know? I went and sat next to her because we were in a restaurant and I knew she needed a hug. Now she asks me how I'm doing all the time. She told me that if I ever feel sad or if I am not happy when I get married that I shouldn't try to kill myself but should call her instead. She hasn't told Dad yet. We don't know if that would help him decide to get treatment for his depression/bipolar or if it would just hurt/anger him and possibly push him over the edge.

Life is such a struggle but no excuse to kill yourself. On a selfish note, my list of suicides needs to stop growing.

Ultrasound Results

I would like to start out saying that I went to a nurse practitioner hoping for more "nursey" care because I have had bad experiences with doctors in the past. This may not have been a wise choice. I understand that she is busy but after being intensely peppered with questions for 5 minutes, being belittled in that short time, then having results read on my voicemail by a receptionist and requesting to talk to the NP and her refusing to talk to me and only answering questions through an MA, I am beyond frustrated. Sorry for the long-winded run-on but that's how I talk when I get super excited or super frustrated. I am so frustrated.

Anyway, I got the results and the NP says that I have a "simple cyst" on my right ovary and that I will need to get another ultrasound in 2-3 months. That is the exact sentence she gave the receptionist (who has a very heavy accent, might I add, and it was barely discernable) to tell me. Freaking out, because I have no idea what that means, I call back and ask to speak to the NP. No, I'm not allowed to right then but they will put a note in my chart and the MA offered to answer what questions she could and then she would have the NP call me later. The answers were not comforting at all and only left me with more questions. Why are you guys waiting so long? Is this serious? Why is nothing else happening? Why is such a passive approach being taken when this could effect my Childbearing abilities? I mean, it's my frickin' ovary!!!

I called Mom to let her know and so I could lose it a little bit. She suggested calling Mema because Mema has been a nurse for awhile and she focuses on Post Partum and NICU. Why didn't I even think of that?! So after explaining everything that's going on, she told me that it might make having kids a little harder because of the ovulation cycle going from one ovary to the other, but she says I will likely be able to have kids because it's just one ovary being effected. She told me what else to look for and what symptoms to expect. She just explained everything and calmed me down so well and in nurse talk and true nurse fashion. Mema is just so fantastic, I am so blessed!

Next day the same MA calls back that I had talked to the previous day and she tells me the NP won't talk to me and she reiterates what the NP had already had read to me the day before on my voicemail. At this point I am beyond livid. Needless to say, I should have cancelled my Well Woman exam right then but I had left class to take the call and didn't want to waste any more time fighting with them. I'll do that another day, though, because she is obviously too busy to have me as a patient. I will also be filling out a review for her because it was not okay the way she treated me.


Do y'all remember me telling you that I thought I may have type 2 Bipolar disorder? Well, one of my cousins was recently diagnoses with it and then one of my dad's cousins (one of his favorites, no less) was recently diagnosed with it too after years of searching for answers and treatment. Mema tells me that in our family, it is passed from father to daughter and mother to son. She suspects I have it because I told her my symptoms and how I went hypomanic after finally taking some herbs to treat my depression. I may end up passing it on to my son, if I have sons, and I want 2-3.

Knowing medical/health stuff is such a blessing but occasionally it's a bit of a downer. Still, I would rather know and then be able to better plan from there than go in blind and wonder what certain outcomes meant.

Intense Weekend, I Could Have Died

I spilled the beans to Boyfriend yesterday about the ultrasound. I am not sure if I started it the right way, but I said everything I wanted to say and left out what I shouldn't have said, like about breaking up with him if it's really bad.

He took it like a champ. I think he saw that I was terrified and he knows I don't cry (hardly ever and NEVER in front of anyone else) but a couple tears threatened to stream down my face. He hugged me and I was able to hide it, so I thought, but he told me it was okay for me to cry. He's a worrier too, and I am not used to relying on anyone else for strength, but somehow I can with him and he stayed strong for me and encouraged me. He told me that we would go through this together and I believe that he will/would stick with me through whatever this is. That's new for me. I'm used to being the strength for my friends and for being there for them through/at doctor appointments and scary life things. I am not equipped to let someone else do that for me but I had one friend come with me to my ultrasound and I spilled my fears to her afterwards. I laid it all out on the table with Boyfriend. Mom has gotten all of the information from the very beginning for stuff that I never talk to anyone about.

When I was on my way to his new house this weekend with Roommate in the passenger's seat next to me, we hit black ice. We were on a paved country highway, I was going about 10 mph under the speed limit and we had just passed a few on-coming cars on the two lane highway (one lane each way). I corrected the car successfully about 3-4 times before we did a 180 and ended up in a ditch backwards. If we had been 10 feet further down the road we would have rolled the car and fell off a 15 foot drop off. If we had been a minute earlier we would have hit the oncoming car and I could have killed both of us and whoever was in that car. If we had been a minute later, we would have gotten hit by a semi truck. Roommate's step-dad and cousin were at their house and they came pulled us out. If they had been looking out of their window, they could have watch the entire thing! That's how close we were to them. Praise the L-rd for His hand on us and the scare of a lifetime but support seconds away. When I got back to their house I decided not to continue on to boyfriend's house and the L-rd whispered to my heart that He wasn't going to let me die just yet. With the health scare I am currently going through, that was surprisingly comforting for the moment and I was able to sleep through the night really well when I hadn't hardly slept the night before.

Last night at work I kind of helped save my patient's life! He was on an IV of 125 mL/hr and had not voided for about 12-18 hours because the doctor had the catheter pulled the day before. This is not logical to me but whatever. The pt has dementia and was combative. When I arrived he started coughing with a really wet cough and spitting out what he coughed up. The nurse was notified and he kept suctioning the pt but did nothing besides that. I had just learned about fluid overload in class so I already had my suspicions. Almost every patient on the floor last night was off the wall! There were bed alarms going off all the time and a bunch of sitter patients without sitters because we just didn't have enough staff and yet we were over staffed according to hospital parameters.

As the night progressed I kept pointing out the cough to my nurse and I kept sitting the patient up so that he could clear his throat, but he should have been NPO because he can't swallow right now. I pointed that out and it was dismissed. At about 0400 I checked the pt's O2 sat because I was curious how he was doing, even though I had just taken vitals an hour before. His O2 was 75%! I called the nurse and was told to slap 2L on him. He went up to 86% so I called again. Half an hour later another nurse comes in and tells me to turn it up. 4L only got him to 89% for a moment and then he started desat-ing really quickly. I run to grab a non-rebreather and cranked it up to 15L but that still only held him at 86-89% with me telling him to cough over and over.

Also at about 0400 we did a bladder scan and it showed he had 1000 mL+ of urine in his bladder. The nurse was called but he didn't come in until 0500. 1600 mL drained in a matter of minutes! The nurse was not in for the rest of the night to check on him even though I had continued to report things and the other CNA's (all of which are nursing students and there were 3 more CNA's in addition to me) told him they thought the pt was fluid overloaded. Nothing got done. When the day shift nurse came on she started to do stuff but quickly got pulled away to another emergency so the day CNA/sitter came in and we took over. She is a student nurse too so we called respiratory therapy and the RT that came up was impressed that two CNA's/Nursing Students handled everything the way that we had and we had gotten to the bottom of it when our nurses were too busy with other stuff.

Thinking back, I should have reported a lot more to my RN or gone to the charge, but it didn't occur to me to do so in the moment. I take a lot of the blame for my pt last night decompensating so much, but if I had not been in nursing school and hadn't checked his O2 an hour after vitals (normally spaced 4 hours apart) then it would have been so much worse. So, I go back and forth between believing it was my fault and being frustrated that I was not listened to. I will trust myself more next time and try to better advocate for my patient. He made it through the night and I am so beyond grateful that the L-rd taught me everything I needed to know in class before experiencing what I did last night. I'll have to tell my professor and clinical instructor about it tomorrow.

Talking to mom this morning, I learned she was diagnosed with endometriosis at about my age. I don't know why she didn't tell me before today, it would have been a handy bit of info about a month ago when I called her with my symptoms... Oh well. She told me she wasn't supposed to be able to have kids. I asked if that made her happy when she found out she was pregnant with me because I had grown up feeling guilty and thinking that I ruined her big life plans because she had a baby and then got married because I was born. She told me she was so excited and very shocked because she didn't think it could happen. I've been crying all day because it was the first time I realized that she wanted me from the very beginning and I have no reason to feel guilty about being born. I don't think I've cried so much since Country Boy died and that's be a year on March 30. Well, except maybe when I had a breakdown last semester and started hyperventilating, but that was still about Country Boy. I cried hardcore for at least 2 hours that day and then it was a pretty constant threat of the damn breaking and me crying at any point after that for a couple days.

She wanted me from the very start. She says I am a miracle because wasn't supposed to get pregnant. Then the doctors wanted her to abort because they thought I had a brain tumor and I wasn't supposed to live past 2. I've been in countless situations where I was supposed to die but I always come out without a scratch. Not even a single broken bone (well, my clavicle was broken when I was born but it fixed up real quick and I can't even tell). I could have died in the near crash this weekend but didn't. The L-rd kept me alive through at least 5 suicide attempts and the last one I had taken 50 pills that were either half ibuprofen and half acetaminophen or all acetaminophen, I can't remember. I know that 10 acetaminophen ended a girl, who was my age when I tried it, in the hospital and she was sicker than a dog when she was brought into the ER. The worst thing that happened to me is that I would sleep for about 14 hours and then wake up really tired.

I don't know why G-d is keeping me around, nor do I understand why He performs so many huge miracles for me all the time, but I'm sure glad He does. He whispered to my heart that he has big plans for me but in true G-d fashion, He won't tell me what those are. That makes me laugh though, every time.





Oh, and Nurse Dee, I don't know if you got my comment on your comment awhile back but I sure wish I could hug you. I don't like giving hugs but I give them to special people. We don't know each other in person, but you are such a blessing to me. Thank you for your continued encouragement and sound advice! I think I have found the balance, for now, between being a little bit worried and keeping busy. I will keep you updated and I will email you if something happens that I need extra support on. Thank you Nurse Dee, I truly appreciate your kindness and support through this past year or two. It means so much to me.

Life Update

Man alive my life has been crazy busy lately! So, let's hit a few highlights.

1. Boyfriend finally signed on his house after having to be postponed weekly for about 2-3 months. So I went out to help him clean and paint but I didn't really help him, I just talked while he worked.
2. My med/surg clinicals are going okay. I failed a careplan because I didn't do my care map... ugh! That clinical day was ridiculous. I made careplans for 2 patients and I lost both by 1100 that day. So ridiculous! I lost one because the primary RN for that patient was being a preceptor for a new nurse and couldn't handle 2 students on top of that, which I understand. Then I lost the other one because he got discharged. So then I get to do two extra care maps on two brand new patients and I get to pass meds that I have no idea what they do because I didn't do a full caremap/medication chart for them. There were more frustrating things and I went through the entire day fully flustered, but I can't remember them right now because I have tried to block that day from my memory.
3. Roommate may/may not be upset with me. Between my long day of classes (8-4:30) on Tuesday, my late nights at the hospital doing careplans on Wednesdays (noon-6ish and then up until midnight to finish them), and my clinicals Thursday/Friday, I hardly see her anymore! Then she goes to her mom's on the weekends and I hang out with Boyfriend when she's gone. I sure hope I didn't upset her, and I try to invite her to stuff when Boyfriend and I do stuff or sometimes I invite her to stuff with her and I and maybe some other buddies of ours (without Boyfriend) but our friendship just feels a little on the rocks. I've asked her if it makes her uncomfortable when he's here but she says it's okay. I don't know, I miss her though!
4. Brother got a new job!... at a hookah place. Mom knows about it, dad doesn't know where he works, he just knows that Brother got a new job. So that might be a fun conversation to watch! Knowing Brother though, it probably won't be much of show because Mom didn't get upset with him when he told her he was smoking pot and none of his big news that it supposed to produce entertainment for me does! It's a real bummer!
5. Dad also got a new job! He had been self-employed for 20-25 years and he's been struggling with that for a very long time. He showed up at his buddy's place of employment one day to talk to the boss and he was hired right away! His buddy had been talking him up for months and the boss believed him so much that he didn't even require training for Dad, he just put him in a truck and let him go! Dad is so excited and happy all the time, I don't know that I've ever seen him so excited for anything. Plus, all of the ladies in the office and his fellow employees love him and think he is just the coolest thing since sliced bread and he has exceeded their expectations from what his buddy told them. That is hard to do ever, but especially in trucking! He now gets benefits, over-time, a regular paycheck that he doesn't have to track people down to get paid, and he's not so hard on his body as he was when he was a welder/fabricator/mechanic. I'm just as happy as a pig in mud about that! And he is too!
6. Dad gets two bullet points because G-d has answered so many prayers about him for me. It's taken years of praying, like, since I was a little kid and learned to pray. He's quit smoking, started working on his marriage with my mom, he got a job, he's happier, and he's understanding the beauty of Sabbath. My heart is just so full it could burst!
7. Mom called me and told me dad was acting weird. He had gone out to a fast food place and had to go in because they don't have a drive-through. Dad doesn't go to fast food without a drive through because he does not like talking to people and he feels like he's being stared at and judged (which I fully understand), because it's part of social phobia (which I have, which is why I understand). Anyway, he went in and called Mom to see if she wanted anything. That doesn't happen either! They've both been in a marriage but acting independently for several years. They were married at the end of the month that I was born, about three weeks after I entered the world, and they did the whole co-dependent marriage relationship thing for awhile. Then, slowly, they started doing their own laundry, sometimes making their own supper at night, etc. They are still married, still live together, still share the same bed, but they were not fully a team. So the fact that dad asked if he could bring her something home was a big deal because that had not been done in several years. So she explained all this to me and then said he had done dishes for her (also not done in a long time) and he was calling just to see how she was doing, etc. I laughed because to me, it sounded like he was doing the Love Dare from the movie Fireproof. The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that he may be doing it or at least just trying to be sweeter to her. She told me she had been a little ornery to him and I told her to be nice because I thought he was doing the Love Dare and that I had prayed for them to get closer in their marriage for a long time. I think she may have started crying because her voice changed like it does when she cries (she cries when she's happy, sad, confused, at dog commercials, EVERYTHING!). That was all a few weeks ago. As far as I know, their communication is increasing/improving and they are both being nicer to each other and hopefully getting closer with each other. Another reason my heart is getting fuller and fixin' to burst!
8. All the nursing stuff I though I lost through my semester of Mental Health is not lost at all! I am really loving med/surg because I am understanding things that were difficult before and I feel like an actual nurse! I keep impressing my clinical instructor, when she least expects it, and I'm able to shout out answers in lab that nobody else knows because I seem to be decent at this nursing thing! Even nursing for adults!!!

Cloudy Weather Blues

Has anyone else noticed that with rainy and snowy days people start acting weird?

We finally got snow where I reside and the whole day was bonkers! My mom told me that her clients were strange/off/angry/grouchy/etc all day. It wasn't just a single person or maybe two. No, it was all of them. She's a hairdresser, by the way, and most people feel better when getting their hair done. Am I right?

I had gone to my mental health clinicals earlier in the day and the unit was hot. Oh my goodness! We had at least two major meltdowns on a unit of about 24 patients and several other meltdowns/take-downs on the other units. I am on a maximum security ward at a state mental hospital. These patients are very sick and all part of the legal system for various different charges. I am also on one of the admit units... So people are at their very worst, very sick level before they are stabilized with medication and therapy.

Then, after all of that fun, I decided to go into work on my day off because they were short staffed. ALWAYS A BAD DECISION!!!  Typically when a place (especially a hospital) is short staffed, that means the staff that is there is going to be stressed, the patients are going to be spazzing out (because everyone one was for some reason), and you will be frustrated that you agreed to come in to a very frustrating situation when you should be off. I completely regret it and I only agreed to work 4 hours because I got called in for night shift but I had been up since 0445.

Oh my gosh. Anything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong. First, staffing sent me to the wrong floor. Then I got reassigned and I had to go sit with a patient who was very old and very confused. He had just gotten discharged from the ICU a couple hours before I got there and was sleeping fine... until the nurse decided to move him to a different room while he was still sleeping. Thanks lady. He slept for the first hour and a half until she decided he needed to move right then. She got a Posey bed ordered for him and since he wouldn't get up, she had us use a transfer sheet to slide him into the bed. He woke up and never went back to sleep the whole time I was with him.

At first I asked if she wanted the whole bed zipped up or if she wanted me to leave it partially unzipped because she told me he could go to the bathroom. About 30 minutes after the nurse and the other two people that helped us left, the patient reported he needed to go to the bathroom. I got him up and led him to the bathroom but he turned real quick and went out into the hall. Even with myself and another nurse attempting to redirect him and lead him back into his room, he was too strong and continued into the hall to a sitting area. 30 minutes of nonsense conversation from him and we still could not get him redirected and into his room. The nurse came out and yelled at me for not keeping him in his room and I just took it. She flipped out, called the charge nurse and complained that the patient was not in his bed. After another 30 minutes or so, two nurses, a CNA, a wheelchair, and myself, we finally got him back into his room. He reported needing to use the bathroom again and the charge nurse finally got to deal with the reason he got out of his room in the first place. It took two of them to toilet him. We got him back into bed, got it all zipped up and everything was good.

A little while later, he said he needed to go to the bathroom again. He kept wanting out but I gave him a urinal. He was so confused it took 20 minutes to convince him to let me help him use the urinal. So frustrating. Then when I unzipped the bed to get the urinal out, he grabbed the zipper and fought me to get out. I succeeded just as the charge nurse got to the doorway to see how everything was going. I explained the situation and she just walked away. He asked to go again a little while later and it was a super huge struggle to get him to use it again. This time I kept the zipper up close to the top and only wide enough for the urinal to barely fit through it and just as he handed the urinal to me, he grabbed my arm! It was like a scene out of a scary horror film or some murder show. He hurt my arm so bad that I let go of the closed urinal (it only had a few drops in it) and struggled for about 5 minutes to get my arm free from his grasp and the bed zipped back up.

Several hours later, the nurse finally braved coming into the room and acted like nothing had ever happened. She was all cheery and sounded nice but I have a hard time forgetting when people yell at me. I told her about how he keeps acting all sweet and then becomes aggressive when you get too close and she told me that that information was highly useful and she was going to talk to the doctor or something. I don't understand why she got so frustrated with me for not being able to tackle a patient just to keep him in his room and she continued to belittle me and act all disapprovingly because "she can't handle confused patients" but she expects me to just suck it up and deal with it so that she doesn't have to see him. Why do so many nurses treat me like junk and avoid my patient just because they got a patient who is requiring a sitter? I understand that they are probably upset that they have to deal with a sitter patient, but why does that justify them making me sit with that patient with no break or help for 12 hours? So frustrating.

Moral of the story, don't agree to go into work on a day off when it is cloudy and everyone that you had come into contact with was going off-the-wall that day.

Is this cloudy-weather-induced grumpiness evident to anyone else or did I just make it up?

IT on pause

Today was my last day working my IT job for the summer and possibly forever. It is so surreal that I have finished my second year of college (well, one more final tomorrow) and I am finished with one school-year of working as an IT person. Not quite sure if it is good or bad yet, we shall see.

In light of it being my last day, I would like to tell y'all a funny story. Well, it's kinda funny... for me...

One of my friends that works IT with me asked me to a party this Friday. He was telling me how great it would be and it's all in his apartment complex. I said "no" just flat out. There was a smile on my face but I told him no. He and his friend continued on about how fun it would be and yada, yada, yada. Then he asked if I was single. He has a girlfriend so he wasn't asking for himself. Turns out he has a friend who is Messianic who was going to be at the party and my friend was absolutely convinced I needed to go so that I could possibly meet this fellow. I told them no because I am ridiculously awkward and I was planning on getting my tongue pierced so I would be unable to speak. Then they tried for 10 minutes trying to convince me that I am not awkward because I wear cowboy boots to school and they don't know anybody in cowboy boots that are awkward... Yikes, these boys just haven't spent enough time with me. That and they are both really charismatic which means they could have a conversation with a rock and the rock would talk back and none of the conversation would be awkward.

My mom laughed at that story for like 5 minutes...

Happy Finals Week everyone. Finish strong! I believe in you.

A Wedding Typically Requires Dating...

My mom informed me that she has found a second-hand wedding dress store in the city. She is wedding dress shopping for me. The girl who is slightly broken in the relationship and development areas of life. I believe G-d works miracles and me getting married would be pretty darn close to Him parting the sea for Moses...

Maybe I'll get married to the family friend she is trying to set me up with. Haha, I shouldn't be so cynical but it's a pretty solid coping mechanism for me so far.

Am I going crazy?

I get these cravings to just hear the voice of my mom or my dad on the phone. I would love to run up to them and just be able to talk, but I don't know their schedules and I don't think I really have time for that.

Does anyone else get these "cravings"?

I usually call them with nothing to say. So they talk for a couple minutes, ask why I called, and we agree that they need to go because they're busy and I should probably be finding something to study.

Lately I just keep talking about Country Boy with them. It seemed like my whole world was crashing down around me right after I had heard about him. Last night at church we were informed that an 8th grade boy took his own life earlier this week. I just can't escape this! Y'all, suicide just won't let me out of its grips. I think I'm doing okay and them all of a sudden I crash back down to the pits of remembering what happened just a few weeks ago.

I keep talking to my mom about the fact that everything still reminds me of him. I'm scared that she is getting sick of listening to me retelling the same silly stories over and over again. I try not to talk about it with her, or my family, or my friends because I'm sure they will get burnt out and just avoid me for awhile.

Why can't I move on?

When things start to go bad, I start focusing on the other things in my life that are not what I want. I wanted the NICU job and may have been able to have it if I had gone with the classes that I originally wanted and ended up having to sign up for. 3 days of classes a week instead of 5. I could have gotten the job. My relationship with Best Friend didn't work out and I'm wondering how I will ever be able to have a boyfriend or have a husband because I am a runner. If things get too deep, I run. I see the worst possible outcome and find all sorts of ways to "fix" it which usually ends up with me flying solo and skippin' town. My brother is moving out and the only prospective roommate I had can't afford it and so now I don't know if I will be able to find a place to live or someone to live with in the next couple of months before my lease ends.

I just feel so lonely.

I went to church yesterday and that seemed to remind me that my prayers cannot simply be a laundry list of requests for G-d. I miss His voice. My life went from being okay for a couple of months to me crashing and burning in a split second.

I'm just wondering what G-d has in store for me next. What is it that I'm supposed to be doing? Is there something I'm missing?

Mom: My Matchmaker

Do any of you have moms, dads, family members, or friends who are always trying to set you up with someone?

I'm reminded of Gru in Despicable Me 2 because that blonde lady is constantly finding him ladies to date. She and the ladies she sets him up with are certifiably insane. They are just a bit cooky. Granted, it's a children's cartoon movie. However, people really do act like that...

Anywho, my mom knows how I despise being told that I need some boy so that I can be happy. She gets it. She is actually where I get my feminist streak from and I'm even a bit more feminist than she ever was. My immediate family (including mom) all understands and agrees that setting people up to date or get married is risky business because it can end very, very badly. When that happens, liability defaults to you because you introduced them and essentially screwed up their lives.

Today on the phone, my mom was consoling me about clinicals, my brother yelling at me, me seeing a deer get hit by a car, and the millions of other nonsensical things that are floating around in my noggin on a daily basis. During this point of assisting me to sort out life she began talking about her life, work, etc to try to distract me because tears were pouring and my voice went up about 7 octaves. We started talking about some family friends that she met at a bakery that they own. She began with the phrase, "Now, I'm not trying to set you up but..."

YOU NEVER START A CONVERSATION LIKE THIS.          EVER!!!

Got it? Good.

She continued on about how one of the sons is a lot like me. She said we both like the country, the mountains, shooting, fishing, camping, hunting (I have yet to go but think I would like to try it at least once), road trips, and a bunch of other stuff. He is described as being someone who is very dedicated to becoming an engineer. He is kind, a very hard worker, sweet, a good protector, and a plethora of other adjectives. I have met him. I agree that he is so very kind, sweet, dedicated, etc, etc, etc. Everything about him seems great and his family is amazing. Plus, he understands cars, restores old Volkswagens, and I think he is a Believer (though not likely Messianic). He sounds amazing and I bet he is a great friend.

The whole conversation, though, caught me off guard. I was telling her about the after shocks of my break up, and she pops this little bundle of anxiety into my lap without a second thought.

She knows how crazy I am because I share the most of my mental processes with her and yet she still proposes this kid as... a friend? potential suitor? something else?

I have no idea what possessed her to bring that up. She has never done anything like that in the past and she typically doesn't think like that anyway. It actually made me feel like a family shunned spinster because her tone made the conversation sound like it was an intervention to get me in a relationship before my biological clock runs out of time. Actually, it's making my head spin just a little bit thinking about it. I already broke Best Friend. How on earth am I ever supposed to start another relationship. Honestly, I don't like the whole dating thing and I'm certain I didn't even do it right the first time because it was really just a differently labeled friendship. Regardless, it has made me consider swearing off guys almost indefinitely. I was nearly nun status. Problem is: I am lonely, I would like offspring, and it would be super if I could find someone (preferably a guy close to my own age who isn't afraid to tell me to "suck it up" if I start to get a bit scare) to take me hunting that I feel safe with. Country Boy offered to take me but he's got a cabin and I've been told he does naughty stuff with girls.

For now, I am asking for strength and contentment in my single state. I didn't want a dating record at all, and now I have one. Regardless, I would like to avoid adding unnecessary names to that list because I break them and they break me and dating is really stupid, overrated, and has high stakes with no way of knowing what will happen.