I resigned from my NICU job here in Small Town and have gotten several offers in College Town. So, it appears as though I'm moving back to that dreadful city. I tried to work closer to my parents so that I could live with them, but they took forever to get back to me, jobs are still pending review. Meanwhile, I have had several decent job offers in College Town and so now I'm looking at houses there.
This is exhausting. I've cried more in the past two weeks than I have my year here. I thought I was sick of this place and that it would be easy to leave, but nobody makes you feel more appreciated than when they know you are for sure leaving. Nurses and practitioners that used to get mad at me for small mistakes in critical situations (that didn't effect the outcome, nor did they really matter they are just their preferences), were all hugging me and telling me that I was a great nurse.
T hat got me thinking that so much of our identity at the hospital is simply being a "good nurse", "good CNA", "good doctor", or "good _________". Fill in the blank with whatever your title is and that's your new identity as a person within those walls. It's a difficult thing to be seen as your job title instead of as you as a person, but I guess that's all they know me as. Many of the night shifters have expressed how much they'll miss me, so that was really nice. I signed off with my parents for the last time and told them to keep in touch on our NICU Facebook page. I've cried, hugged more people than I thought possible, and I was blessed to be able to run into most everyone I wanted to say goodbye to and found the rest on Facebook.
My last week at work was wonderful. I got to do all of my favorite things, say goodbye to mass amounts of people, and my unit threw me a going away party. I felt so special and so loved. G-d orchestrated the night to let me help with breastfeeding, let parents give a bath to a little baby that dad hadn't gotten to help bathe before, I went on a delivery, got to visit with the L&D, postpartum, newborn nursery, and women's center ladies. I also got to snuggle all of my favorite little babies that are on the unit. It's crazy to think of how much I've learned this last year to be able to help teach our newer nurses some of the skills they haven't done yet. I've started to realize how much extra they taught me because I was asking to learn and do more. My charge nurse that let me have that 1:1 baby that ended up dying really took me under her wing and tried to get me as much experience as possible.
I'm going to miss our people, our babies, and this town. I've really enjoyed living here and have just now gotten to the point of having friends (because they are new and actually go do stuff with me). This decision was so difficult and going through with the move is crazy difficult. However, the pro con list is sufficient enough to sway me to try another beginning closer to my family. Mostly, the decision has come down to grandpa just having a few months because he's been doing so poorly, and my grandmother being overbearing. I love her, but I definitely need boundaries and to be allowed to be an independent adult. Now I'm off to learn all the doctors and nurse practitioners at new hospitals. I am looking for a house when I didn't think I would have to move for another year. I am moving back to College Town when I swore I would never do so because of the past I left behind there. I am praying that I don't run into the guys or their families. I am also praying that as I try to incorporate myself into new units, that I am accepted, make friends, and that I'm able to keep up with the 2 part-time jobs that I've chosen so that I can work towards L&D experience, while not losing my NICU skills and the baby snuggles I've come so accustomed to. I was so excited and happy to move down here and it's so difficult to leave.
I pray the L-rd guide me, protect me, and cover me with his grace. This is a scary road, and I hope it gets me closer to the goals I have for myself and ultimately the plans G-d has for me.
On the bright side, I've tried many of the churches there, have my couple of favorites, I know the good and bad areas of town to live in, and have some friends there. It's not going to be completely new and scary. I just need a security system with cameras, a new face and name, and now furniture because I sold all mine! It'll be nice to move somewhere and have a basis of living there, a basis of my job duties and skills, and a slight social circle. I'm terrified of the flashbacks and nightmares that have already started and of running into the guys and their families. Exboyfriend's sister works on the floor that I will be starting to work in the NICU at and that terrifies me. She didn't like me before and she sure as hell won't like me now that I've submitted police reports and sexual assault allegations against her brother. I'm praying she got a new job somewhere else and that I will never see her. I don't know what I would do if I ever did run into her and I'm seriously considering using a nickname while I'm working there. I pray the Good L-rd wipes her memory of me and that I'm just some new person on the floor.
Showing posts with label scared. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scared. Show all posts
Thursday, July 6, 2017
Sunday, July 24, 2016
Looming Deadlines...
It's nearly 11 p.m. here and I'm supposed to be getting up at 5 a.m. for work tomorrow...
I can't sleep because I've been trying to take NCLEX practice tests and start studying because I'm scheduled to take my NCLEX on Friday.
It occurred to me today, while at my "cousin's" kid's 1st birthday party, that I'm taking the NCLEX this week. Then I started thinking about how little I've studied because of work, moving, exhaustion, depression flare-ups, and general PTSD bullshit coming back. C'est la vie, non?
Anyway, I also started considering pushing it back another week or two to give myself some legit time to study. I don't know what to do. Do I just get it over with and hope that the 54% average on practice tests gets me on the passing side of the NCLEX scale? Or, do I try to attempt another shot at studying more?
They say that by passing nursing school, you should have most/all of the info needed to pass this damn test, but being on this end of taking the silly thing, I'm not sure how much I believe that. 54% is a pretty abysmal score to get on anything, let alone a $200 test. I guess I'll see how the rest of the week goes and if I need to, I'll change the date by Wednesday so that I don't lose said $200...
Goodnight y'all
I can't sleep because I've been trying to take NCLEX practice tests and start studying because I'm scheduled to take my NCLEX on Friday.
It occurred to me today, while at my "cousin's" kid's 1st birthday party, that I'm taking the NCLEX this week. Then I started thinking about how little I've studied because of work, moving, exhaustion, depression flare-ups, and general PTSD bullshit coming back. C'est la vie, non?
Anyway, I also started considering pushing it back another week or two to give myself some legit time to study. I don't know what to do. Do I just get it over with and hope that the 54% average on practice tests gets me on the passing side of the NCLEX scale? Or, do I try to attempt another shot at studying more?
They say that by passing nursing school, you should have most/all of the info needed to pass this damn test, but being on this end of taking the silly thing, I'm not sure how much I believe that. 54% is a pretty abysmal score to get on anything, let alone a $200 test. I guess I'll see how the rest of the week goes and if I need to, I'll change the date by Wednesday so that I don't lose said $200...
Goodnight y'all
Thursday, June 16, 2016
Doorbells
You may or may not know about my phobia of doorbells and people knocking when I am not expecting them.
I thought this would dissipate when I left Home State, but maybe not.
Somebody just rang my doorbell and I kinda freaked out. I'm hiding in my room, had a mild panic attack when I heard it, and I tip-toed to the front room and waited for them to leave. I probably stood there for a solid 20 minutes before having the guts to peak through the blinds for a window hidden behind some rose bushes. Oh yeah, I have rose bushes at my new place!!!
Anyway, my heart is still racing and I don't know who it was that came over, maybe just some people trying to "spread the Good News" but I don't care. I'm losing my sh!t over someone ringing the damn doorbell because I'm scared it might be him.
It terrifies me to death to think that he would follow me all the way to Small Town because if he was that committed to finding me he's probably committed enough to hating me that he would kill me. Like literally murder me.
Oh I hope he never finds out where I live.
Mom said she was going to get me a surprise house warming gift... I was having a bad day so she decided to tell me what it was! Guess what it is? It's a doorbell that takes a picture of whoever is at your front door, whether they ring the bell or not, and the picture gets sent straight to your phone. That way, I don't have to worry about who is there and if I should answer the door or not. It also allows you to talk to them through a speaker and I can tell the doorbell to not sound, for when I'm sleeping during the day in order to be able to work night shift. I think it's exciting! Very ridiculous, but sometimes recovering from PTSD requires some silly interventions just to make life survivable. I think for most people, a picture-taking-doorbell is unecessary, but for a single woman living by herself in a brand-new town, it is okay. If said woman is also in fear of her life from some psycho who is the incarnation of pure evil... then it's even more okay.
I pray that someday he can change, but some people just can't. Some people are legit evil, all the way through to their toes. They are hell-bent on doing harm in the world and fucking up other people for their own selfish pleasure. What pleasure comes from this, I have not a clue, but it's their motivation for getting up in the morning.
I thought this would dissipate when I left Home State, but maybe not.
Somebody just rang my doorbell and I kinda freaked out. I'm hiding in my room, had a mild panic attack when I heard it, and I tip-toed to the front room and waited for them to leave. I probably stood there for a solid 20 minutes before having the guts to peak through the blinds for a window hidden behind some rose bushes. Oh yeah, I have rose bushes at my new place!!!
Anyway, my heart is still racing and I don't know who it was that came over, maybe just some people trying to "spread the Good News" but I don't care. I'm losing my sh!t over someone ringing the damn doorbell because I'm scared it might be him.
It terrifies me to death to think that he would follow me all the way to Small Town because if he was that committed to finding me he's probably committed enough to hating me that he would kill me. Like literally murder me.
Oh I hope he never finds out where I live.
Mom said she was going to get me a surprise house warming gift... I was having a bad day so she decided to tell me what it was! Guess what it is? It's a doorbell that takes a picture of whoever is at your front door, whether they ring the bell or not, and the picture gets sent straight to your phone. That way, I don't have to worry about who is there and if I should answer the door or not. It also allows you to talk to them through a speaker and I can tell the doorbell to not sound, for when I'm sleeping during the day in order to be able to work night shift. I think it's exciting! Very ridiculous, but sometimes recovering from PTSD requires some silly interventions just to make life survivable. I think for most people, a picture-taking-doorbell is unecessary, but for a single woman living by herself in a brand-new town, it is okay. If said woman is also in fear of her life from some psycho who is the incarnation of pure evil... then it's even more okay.
I pray that someday he can change, but some people just can't. Some people are legit evil, all the way through to their toes. They are hell-bent on doing harm in the world and fucking up other people for their own selfish pleasure. What pleasure comes from this, I have not a clue, but it's their motivation for getting up in the morning.
Saturday, April 9, 2016
All Sorts of Relationsips
Should I give the good or bad news first? I guess they're both sort of good, but one you have to put a spin on to find it to be a silver lining.
Okay, negative one first.
I "broke up" with Jersey today. She's been a massive thorn in my side for months now and she does not calm down her aggressiveness. After several hours of writing out what I want to say, several nights of venting to Roomie, and a handful of counseling sessions wasted, it finally happened. She kept bugging me for a meeting to "talk things out". Well, okay, I will "talk things out" but I refuse to be friends with Jersey anymore.
We set a time for an appointment to talk on the phone. I told her that I get 10 minutes to talk where she doesn't get to interrupt me. I got done with my spiel in about 5-7 minutes, told her she could go for it for 10 minutes and then that was it. She hung up, saying she needed to go to lab. She was crying and asked for specific examples for some of the reasons I gave for why I was not going to be her friend anymore. I refused because I was not going to get into the typical argument she likes to start up.
We took Roomie's dog for an hour long hike and I came back to a text from Jersey asking for the letter. What letter? The letter I wrote to send to her... What the hell? I wrote notes, but there was no letter. So, she asked for that and she wanted me to mail it. She told me it was so that she could "better reflect on the points that I made so that she could become a better person." That is the biggest load of shit I've ever heard. I again refused to do as she asked and that's when all of her bullshit came out. I was waiting for it!!! I did not give the letter to her in the first place because I know how she tries to pick the little details out and then attempt to excuse it away. She also has a tendency to show things like that to all of her friends in order to gain sympathy. Well, she'll just have to go fishing for sympathy without my notes. I saved them though, in my counseling binder. I want to remember how strong I was.
It was a hard thing to do. I am not one to burn bridges or try to hurt others. However, I'm not going to cower and let her walk all over me anymore. I tried to blow it off but she wasn't going to let it go. Okay, fine. You don't want to let it go and you want to ignore my feelings and how your actions effect anyone else? I won't ignore the way my actions effect you, but I will absolutely cut you out of my life.
She ended up texting me something to the effect of, "my last words for you is that karma is a bitch." Actually, that's exactly what the text said. Oh honey, don't even. This phone call was Justice being served because you see no wrong in any of your actions. I don't believe in karma, but do not mess with me and expect anything to improve for you.
You do not fuck with me.
I will no longer be walked on.
So, the good news from that whole story is that Jersey knows we are no longer friends. There is no hope and I am not going to talk to her anymore. I spoke my peace and I'm done with her. I blocked her on Facebook, snapchat, and from texting/calling me. I cannot block her from class, but she knows that it's done. If she asks to talk to me I'm going to tell her no and that I have other things I have to go to. I said what I needed to say and she had a chance to do the same. That was it, and I told her that was her last chance.
In happy news, I had a date!!! Dating is scary, but especially after meeting nothing but bad guys, even through friends and family recommendations. This guy has been talking with me for weeks. I finally agreed to meet him in a public place and it went well. I'm not so good at small talk, and I brought down the conversation a few times, but we had a lot of laughs and some random, exciting adventures.
We started by going to Bass Pro. We walked across the parking lot to dinner and to grab a beer because I told him I wouldn't ride in a vehicle with him. During dinner, he asked why I won't let him drive me, I told him that exfiance essentially kidnapped me at one point. Which did actually happen. After that, he understood that my pain goes deeper than typical girls simply being upset with their exes. He didn't pry anymore into that aspect of my life and the night went on. After dinner, he asked what I wanted to do. After a few minutes of discussion, I decided I wanted to see puppies. So, we drove separately to the mall and saw some puppies!
We spent a couple hours in the mall, just visiting random stores. At one point we ended up going prom dress shopping and I almost convinced him to try one on! I took him to every girly store in the mall, just to see how much of a fit he would throw and he didn't throw a single one!!! He smelled candles with me at the candle place, he looked at puppies with me, looked at dresses, and we even went shoe shopping. I told him I had never been but he was all game. Granted, I lasted a solid 30 seconds in the shoe place before I got bored, so we left pretty quick. Regardless, he handled the entire date, and my weird conversations and odd activity requests really well.
At the end of the date, he walked me to my car and asked for a second date. I think he was trying for a kiss, but I didn't let him get too close. We agreed to keep talking and I told him another date would be fun, but he didn't get a kiss that night. He probably won't for awhile, if we decide that it's a relationship worth pursuing. That'll be a rough discussion because I'm headed away and I carry a lot of baggage still.
So, I have a relationship potentially starting while another was cut clean off. Odd thing is, I feel free after the friend "break-up" just like I feel more free after break-ups with the toxic guys I've kicked to the curb.
Y'all, I'm growing!
Okay, negative one first.
I "broke up" with Jersey today. She's been a massive thorn in my side for months now and she does not calm down her aggressiveness. After several hours of writing out what I want to say, several nights of venting to Roomie, and a handful of counseling sessions wasted, it finally happened. She kept bugging me for a meeting to "talk things out". Well, okay, I will "talk things out" but I refuse to be friends with Jersey anymore.
We set a time for an appointment to talk on the phone. I told her that I get 10 minutes to talk where she doesn't get to interrupt me. I got done with my spiel in about 5-7 minutes, told her she could go for it for 10 minutes and then that was it. She hung up, saying she needed to go to lab. She was crying and asked for specific examples for some of the reasons I gave for why I was not going to be her friend anymore. I refused because I was not going to get into the typical argument she likes to start up.
We took Roomie's dog for an hour long hike and I came back to a text from Jersey asking for the letter. What letter? The letter I wrote to send to her... What the hell? I wrote notes, but there was no letter. So, she asked for that and she wanted me to mail it. She told me it was so that she could "better reflect on the points that I made so that she could become a better person." That is the biggest load of shit I've ever heard. I again refused to do as she asked and that's when all of her bullshit came out. I was waiting for it!!! I did not give the letter to her in the first place because I know how she tries to pick the little details out and then attempt to excuse it away. She also has a tendency to show things like that to all of her friends in order to gain sympathy. Well, she'll just have to go fishing for sympathy without my notes. I saved them though, in my counseling binder. I want to remember how strong I was.
It was a hard thing to do. I am not one to burn bridges or try to hurt others. However, I'm not going to cower and let her walk all over me anymore. I tried to blow it off but she wasn't going to let it go. Okay, fine. You don't want to let it go and you want to ignore my feelings and how your actions effect anyone else? I won't ignore the way my actions effect you, but I will absolutely cut you out of my life.
She ended up texting me something to the effect of, "my last words for you is that karma is a bitch." Actually, that's exactly what the text said. Oh honey, don't even. This phone call was Justice being served because you see no wrong in any of your actions. I don't believe in karma, but do not mess with me and expect anything to improve for you.
You do not fuck with me.
I will no longer be walked on.
So, the good news from that whole story is that Jersey knows we are no longer friends. There is no hope and I am not going to talk to her anymore. I spoke my peace and I'm done with her. I blocked her on Facebook, snapchat, and from texting/calling me. I cannot block her from class, but she knows that it's done. If she asks to talk to me I'm going to tell her no and that I have other things I have to go to. I said what I needed to say and she had a chance to do the same. That was it, and I told her that was her last chance.
In happy news, I had a date!!! Dating is scary, but especially after meeting nothing but bad guys, even through friends and family recommendations. This guy has been talking with me for weeks. I finally agreed to meet him in a public place and it went well. I'm not so good at small talk, and I brought down the conversation a few times, but we had a lot of laughs and some random, exciting adventures.
We started by going to Bass Pro. We walked across the parking lot to dinner and to grab a beer because I told him I wouldn't ride in a vehicle with him. During dinner, he asked why I won't let him drive me, I told him that exfiance essentially kidnapped me at one point. Which did actually happen. After that, he understood that my pain goes deeper than typical girls simply being upset with their exes. He didn't pry anymore into that aspect of my life and the night went on. After dinner, he asked what I wanted to do. After a few minutes of discussion, I decided I wanted to see puppies. So, we drove separately to the mall and saw some puppies!
We spent a couple hours in the mall, just visiting random stores. At one point we ended up going prom dress shopping and I almost convinced him to try one on! I took him to every girly store in the mall, just to see how much of a fit he would throw and he didn't throw a single one!!! He smelled candles with me at the candle place, he looked at puppies with me, looked at dresses, and we even went shoe shopping. I told him I had never been but he was all game. Granted, I lasted a solid 30 seconds in the shoe place before I got bored, so we left pretty quick. Regardless, he handled the entire date, and my weird conversations and odd activity requests really well.
At the end of the date, he walked me to my car and asked for a second date. I think he was trying for a kiss, but I didn't let him get too close. We agreed to keep talking and I told him another date would be fun, but he didn't get a kiss that night. He probably won't for awhile, if we decide that it's a relationship worth pursuing. That'll be a rough discussion because I'm headed away and I carry a lot of baggage still.
So, I have a relationship potentially starting while another was cut clean off. Odd thing is, I feel free after the friend "break-up" just like I feel more free after break-ups with the toxic guys I've kicked to the curb.
Y'all, I'm growing!
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Panic Ensues
He texted me again.
It showed up today. He says his friend got killed last night and I'm the only one that understands him.
I am stuck between wondering if it happened and thinking that he's just full of shit like he's been this whole time.
Regardless, it's not my problem. Maybe if you want support and friends to be able to talk to about stuff like this, then maybe don't be a complete and total asshole. I mean, that's just a suggestion, but what do I know?
He had told me several times throughout the relationship that a friend had died. Good gracious, at that pace there should be nobody alive anywhere on Earth at this point!
Maybe he really does have friends dying all of the time. Mostly, I think he's trying to get me to be sympathetic and fall back into his poisonous tentacles.
His number is still blocked so the text didn't come through until I went searching for it.
My heart is still filled with panic. My stomach was instantly queasy. My hands are sweaty and I feel flushed all over. This is the sympathetic nervous response kicking in. I am in panic. I know I shouldn't be, but sometimes anxiety comes with no rational explanation for it's presence.
Deep breaths. Continue on about my day. Load my gun...
It showed up today. He says his friend got killed last night and I'm the only one that understands him.
I am stuck between wondering if it happened and thinking that he's just full of shit like he's been this whole time.
Regardless, it's not my problem. Maybe if you want support and friends to be able to talk to about stuff like this, then maybe don't be a complete and total asshole. I mean, that's just a suggestion, but what do I know?
He had told me several times throughout the relationship that a friend had died. Good gracious, at that pace there should be nobody alive anywhere on Earth at this point!
Maybe he really does have friends dying all of the time. Mostly, I think he's trying to get me to be sympathetic and fall back into his poisonous tentacles.
His number is still blocked so the text didn't come through until I went searching for it.
My heart is still filled with panic. My stomach was instantly queasy. My hands are sweaty and I feel flushed all over. This is the sympathetic nervous response kicking in. I am in panic. I know I shouldn't be, but sometimes anxiety comes with no rational explanation for it's presence.
Deep breaths. Continue on about my day. Load my gun...
Monday, February 22, 2016
10 Thanksgivings
Good grief, this is post #4 today, I think. I just have so much in my brain and going on in life that I just can't help it.
Anyway, on the way to school this morning we started talking about how roomie wears a lot of make-up and she keeps forgetting to take it off at night, so she just puts more on in the morning. I challenged her to go 5 days without make-up, but I told her she could have eyeliner and mascara.
Oh man, you would have thought I asked her to sell $10,000,000 worth of drugs in a week! I then told her that if she did that, then she could challenge me to something.
Her challenge was for me to find 5 things each day that I am grateful for. It's kind of related to my self affirmations that are my counseling homework for this week.
I agreed then rattled off 5 things for yesterday.
"That was too easy! You should do 10 each day!" She said.
I replied with, "Fine! Then you have to go 10 days without make-up!"
She agreed because she has no clinicals or class for the next 3 days...
Damn it.
Regardless, I am going to stay good on my promise. So, here are my 10 thanksgiving from today:
Anyway, on the way to school this morning we started talking about how roomie wears a lot of make-up and she keeps forgetting to take it off at night, so she just puts more on in the morning. I challenged her to go 5 days without make-up, but I told her she could have eyeliner and mascara.
Oh man, you would have thought I asked her to sell $10,000,000 worth of drugs in a week! I then told her that if she did that, then she could challenge me to something.
Her challenge was for me to find 5 things each day that I am grateful for. It's kind of related to my self affirmations that are my counseling homework for this week.
I agreed then rattled off 5 things for yesterday.
"That was too easy! You should do 10 each day!" She said.
I replied with, "Fine! Then you have to go 10 days without make-up!"
She agreed because she has no clinicals or class for the next 3 days...
Damn it.
Regardless, I am going to stay good on my promise. So, here are my 10 thanksgiving from today:
- Our first pediatrics test was a group test and I was put with two very smart people.
- I finished my homework before my afternoon class because I didn't do it last night.
- I am so very grateful I have counseling tomorrow.
- The semester is nearly done and that means school is almost over!
- My Roomie is spending the night at our apartment tonight. This is good because she's been house-sitting for over a week and it's been lonely and scary here alone.
- Tomorrow I get the contact information for someone that is going to help me with legal troubles I am having.
- I was able to "study" today with a few close friends and my Roomie helped us because she already took the course we are currently in.
- I am grateful for Roomie because she listens to me and helps me when she can.
- I survived today.
- I survived my life through 2015 with all of the tragedy and complications of meeting a couple terrible guys.
Sunday, February 14, 2016
I Ignored the Call
He called me tonight. Exfiance called me. He left texts asking me to call him back but I ignored them all and called my brother and then my mom. It's Valentine's Day for goodness sake! Why can he not just leave me alone?!?
Main point is: I ignored the call.
It was hard. Believe it or not, it was probably one of the hardest things I've had to do so far.
My brother didn't answer right away when I called him, but my mom did. She told me to text exfiance and tell him to stop contacting me. During that conversation, Brother called me and I told Brother everything was fine but that exfiance had tried to call me. He offered to come spend the night at my house to protect me, but that he wouldn't be here for a few hours because he needed to go to the gym before he came over. Well, okay, we'll see. I'm fine right now, but I may end up calling him to have him come over.
The cops are on speed dial and only a click away right now though, just in case exfiance tries to come over tonight. He answered my "don't text me anymore because I'll get a restraining order" text with saying that he "couldn't believe I was being like this and he just wanted to tell me something."
Well, then just fucking say it! Tell me over fucking text without me having to ask a billion and five questions! Leave a fucking voicemail and let me know what this "important" information you have for me is! Besides that, leave me the fuck alone!!! Just STOP!!!!! Let me have a little bit of peace.
He doesn't know I'm going to the cops soon. He doesn't know that my story will be a part of a case and his name will be all over it. He doesn't know that maybe, just maybe, this will be the final straw that finally puts him in prison where he cannot get out for awhile. L-rd, let me get into contact with the other girls so that maybe we an have a solid case against him! Please, oh L-rd, let this prayer be heard and answered with miracles.
I was already struggling today. I spent about an hour on the phone with my mom recalling that this is about the time that exboyfriend started controlling me and talked me into kissing him after about a month of trying to guilt me into it. He had recently told me that he had been talking to me and exroommate's cousin about dating both of us but he liked me better so cut ties with her unexpectedly. Sure, that left him with no major problems, but it filled my life with drama because I had become friends with the cousin and it was my roommate's family that he messed up. He ruined so many relationships for me because of talking to both of us, and leading us both on at the same time. Between him and exroommate's mom, they ruined my life. I had no idea the events that transpired about this time last year would lead to the hardest point in my life.
Who knew I would regret waking up each morning because I met him? Because I met her? Who knew I would wish to have amnesia just so I wouldn't be haunted by the ever-present memory of his actions that night and the next day? Who knew I would wish to have been taken from this world years ago so that I could have been able to die pure instead of so messed up that I'm not even hamburger meat anymore?
Who knew it could even get worse? That it could get so much worse that I start to remember the terrible first relationship as something I would rather be in (with exboyfriend), instead of ever living through the second (with exfiance)?
It makes no sense as to why this is my life. I don't understand why these are my burdens to bear and why I am forced to suffer in this death sentence. Let's be real, none of us are getting out alive. But why is this my path in life? What did I do to deserve this? Would it not be more kind to just put me out of my misery and let me die? Why make me continue on and fight this impossible, never-ending fight for life?
He called tonight. I panicked. Despite the panic, I did not answer. However, my mind will not be quieted tonight. Every sound, every creak, everything I hear will be met with my startle response.
This is part of my burden.
This is a part of my pain.
It will not end.
This is my life from now on.
Main point is: I ignored the call.
It was hard. Believe it or not, it was probably one of the hardest things I've had to do so far.
My brother didn't answer right away when I called him, but my mom did. She told me to text exfiance and tell him to stop contacting me. During that conversation, Brother called me and I told Brother everything was fine but that exfiance had tried to call me. He offered to come spend the night at my house to protect me, but that he wouldn't be here for a few hours because he needed to go to the gym before he came over. Well, okay, we'll see. I'm fine right now, but I may end up calling him to have him come over.
The cops are on speed dial and only a click away right now though, just in case exfiance tries to come over tonight. He answered my "don't text me anymore because I'll get a restraining order" text with saying that he "couldn't believe I was being like this and he just wanted to tell me something."
Well, then just fucking say it! Tell me over fucking text without me having to ask a billion and five questions! Leave a fucking voicemail and let me know what this "important" information you have for me is! Besides that, leave me the fuck alone!!! Just STOP!!!!! Let me have a little bit of peace.
He doesn't know I'm going to the cops soon. He doesn't know that my story will be a part of a case and his name will be all over it. He doesn't know that maybe, just maybe, this will be the final straw that finally puts him in prison where he cannot get out for awhile. L-rd, let me get into contact with the other girls so that maybe we an have a solid case against him! Please, oh L-rd, let this prayer be heard and answered with miracles.
I was already struggling today. I spent about an hour on the phone with my mom recalling that this is about the time that exboyfriend started controlling me and talked me into kissing him after about a month of trying to guilt me into it. He had recently told me that he had been talking to me and exroommate's cousin about dating both of us but he liked me better so cut ties with her unexpectedly. Sure, that left him with no major problems, but it filled my life with drama because I had become friends with the cousin and it was my roommate's family that he messed up. He ruined so many relationships for me because of talking to both of us, and leading us both on at the same time. Between him and exroommate's mom, they ruined my life. I had no idea the events that transpired about this time last year would lead to the hardest point in my life.
Who knew I would regret waking up each morning because I met him? Because I met her? Who knew I would wish to have amnesia just so I wouldn't be haunted by the ever-present memory of his actions that night and the next day? Who knew I would wish to have been taken from this world years ago so that I could have been able to die pure instead of so messed up that I'm not even hamburger meat anymore?
Who knew it could even get worse? That it could get so much worse that I start to remember the terrible first relationship as something I would rather be in (with exboyfriend), instead of ever living through the second (with exfiance)?
It makes no sense as to why this is my life. I don't understand why these are my burdens to bear and why I am forced to suffer in this death sentence. Let's be real, none of us are getting out alive. But why is this my path in life? What did I do to deserve this? Would it not be more kind to just put me out of my misery and let me die? Why make me continue on and fight this impossible, never-ending fight for life?
He called tonight. I panicked. Despite the panic, I did not answer. However, my mind will not be quieted tonight. Every sound, every creak, everything I hear will be met with my startle response.
This is part of my burden.
This is a part of my pain.
It will not end.
This is my life from now on.
Monday, February 8, 2016
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.
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.
Monday, February 1, 2016
Ridiculously Stupid Cycle
Guys, I'm freaking out today. I was doing okay for the first time a couple days ago and now I'm headed back into the sad part of my cycle. I'm freaking out because I'm terrified I have an STD.
I know, I shouldn't be worrying and then refuse to go get tested. Thing is, I didn't want the contact that spreads STDs. It wasn't my choice. I could choose for the guys to have protection. I didn't choose any of it. That makes me angry. If I had a choice in any part of the matter at all, then I wouldn't be in this predicament.
I'm angry because I didn't get a choice. I'm angry because if I do have one, then I feel like my life is over because I don't want a husband to get it, if I have anything, and I damn sure don't want kids to get it. So then marriage and children are out of the picture for me.
That was my nightmare last night. That I had an STD.
I know I should go get tested but I'm terrified that it will be the end of my life and dreams.
I'm hoping I can just get to counseling tomorrow. I look forward to having it twice a week because I'm not doing well going so far out between sessions. I feel better the first few days and then I start sinking again about mid-way through the week once it gets to about Thursday or Friday and then my weekends are shit.
On a positive note, I got a snow day today. I really needed it. I'm just hoping I get to start clinicals tomorrow because it'll be the first day of OB clinicals and I'm on the Mom/Baby floor. Yay!
I know, I shouldn't be worrying and then refuse to go get tested. Thing is, I didn't want the contact that spreads STDs. It wasn't my choice. I could choose for the guys to have protection. I didn't choose any of it. That makes me angry. If I had a choice in any part of the matter at all, then I wouldn't be in this predicament.
I'm angry because I didn't get a choice. I'm angry because if I do have one, then I feel like my life is over because I don't want a husband to get it, if I have anything, and I damn sure don't want kids to get it. So then marriage and children are out of the picture for me.
That was my nightmare last night. That I had an STD.
I know I should go get tested but I'm terrified that it will be the end of my life and dreams.
I'm hoping I can just get to counseling tomorrow. I look forward to having it twice a week because I'm not doing well going so far out between sessions. I feel better the first few days and then I start sinking again about mid-way through the week once it gets to about Thursday or Friday and then my weekends are shit.
On a positive note, I got a snow day today. I really needed it. I'm just hoping I get to start clinicals tomorrow because it'll be the first day of OB clinicals and I'm on the Mom/Baby floor. Yay!
Sunday, March 1, 2015
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.
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.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
A Nalgene and a Half Later
I got an ultrasound done today. It was unbeknownst to me that one has to have a full bladder for an ultrasound to be done so I showed up after just having gone to the bathroom. Let's back up the story just a little bit, though.
The day started out at one of the hospitals that I work at for a day of playing hookie in order to attend a cardiac conference. Not a bad day! Especially because I did not have to do a careplan the night before or tonight because my instructor didn't feel like grading them! The conference allowed the clinical day to be cut short allowing me to get to my appointment (at the same hospital) early. Score!
We show up and ask to be taken early. They agree to do it. We wait for what must have been about 30 minutes to be taken back into the room, and that brings a whole set of fun question. Oh, and my nursing school buddy came along with me because she wanted to see what an ultrasound was like. She was the third person I explained my full symptoms to and I was not expecting to tell anyone but my mom and my NP.
So we get into the room and the ultrasound tech asks if I'm sexually active. No. She asks if I've gotten a Pap smear. I explain that my NP wouldn't do it so no. She then informs me that she was going to do an internal ultrasound but decided to do an external one because I am a virgin and have not experienced anything that invasive yet. Great.
Then I am asked to lay down so she can see how full my bladder is. It was teensy! I was instructed to drink as much water as I could so I down another Nalgene bottle (32 oz.) and a half in addition to the half Nalgene I had already consumed since last using the restroom. Keep in mind I have not eaten since 0630 and it's rounding on about 1330-1400. Anyway, my friend and I go back to the waiting room and she's drinking water with me to help me fill up my bladder.
Another 30 minutes and about 15 funny videos later, the tech comes back out to check my status and the ultrasound shows that my bladder is full enough! Yay!
So pants are unbuttoned and pulled down to just low enough to expose where my bladder and uterus are. The tech pours some warm jelly on the exposed area and starts pressing right where she needs to not press because I'm fixin' to lose all the urine in my bladder if she presses too hard. Pretty soon my uterus gets pointed out to me and it turns out I hang to the left, just a little bit. Haha, comedic relief is helping me get through this and I was slap happy because I was so nervous and I laughed for a solid 5 minutes at my own joke.
10 minutes of smooshing around above my full, and still filling bladder, and she started zooming in. Measurements were taken of each ovary and some labeling, no big deal. I noticed that one of my ovaries was black while the other was gray. She then went from traditional 2D ultrasound and switched to 3D. I thought nothing of it at the time, but the more I think about it, the more freaked out I get about that. It looked bigger, to me, and she looked through different levels of it with the 3D ultrasound thing. She didn't do that to the other one.
Being an ultrasound tech, she wasn't allowed to diagnose me or share the findings because she has to wait for the MD to look them over and then call my NP and then I may get the results at some point during the course of what feels like 80138474536947 years from now.
In the meantime, I'm trying to limit my panic attacks but that's not going well. I came straight home and peed, for the 3rd time in 30 minutes, and fell asleep on the couch. I don't know why because I got a solid 9 hours of sleep last night because I didn't have to do a careplan. Then I woke up from my map with a panic attack and a realization that she investigated the black ovary but not the gray one.
Boyfriend doesn't know about the ultrasound yet, I want to tell him so badly but I think it needs to be in person and after I get the results. We talked on the phone last night about a bunch of deep stuff and he asked what I would do if we found out that one of us was infertile. It was completely out of the blue and without knowing my fears of cancer/infertility/other scary things that I am experiencing right now. He told me I could think about it for a few day but I didn't need to. I responded saying that I had wanted to maybe adopt a kid or two anyway so we could just do that. He agreed and we moved on to more tough questions. Even after asking what brought him to ask that, he said it was just a though he had had but it was weird to me because I am actually terrified that may be my reality.
I'm struggling.
If I find out I have cancer or I'm infertile, I think I'm going to break up with Boyfriend. That's not fair to him to be stuck with me through that. We've been going out for a few days shy of a month and there's no reason for him to feel like he has to stay with me just because I am sick (if I'm sick) or through my (possible) infertility.
My heart is heavy, my mind is racing, I think I might explode.
I finally told my roommate about my symptoms. She knew I had gone to the doctor's and that they ran the STD panel, UA, CBC, thyroid test, and the ultrasound. But she asked why the did the ultrasound so I had to explain everything to her. I'm getting better about talking about things that normally make me really uncomfortable. That's likely, largely helped by Boyfriend helping me to discuss stuff I wouldn't mention before. You know, feelings, kissing, sex, marriage, etc. So Roommate knows and I've been freaking out to her a little bit but I hold off a lot because I don't want to bother her or my other nursing school buddy that I told about it with my problems and irrational fears.
I'm going to bed. Pray with me if you think about it.
The day started out at one of the hospitals that I work at for a day of playing hookie in order to attend a cardiac conference. Not a bad day! Especially because I did not have to do a careplan the night before or tonight because my instructor didn't feel like grading them! The conference allowed the clinical day to be cut short allowing me to get to my appointment (at the same hospital) early. Score!
We show up and ask to be taken early. They agree to do it. We wait for what must have been about 30 minutes to be taken back into the room, and that brings a whole set of fun question. Oh, and my nursing school buddy came along with me because she wanted to see what an ultrasound was like. She was the third person I explained my full symptoms to and I was not expecting to tell anyone but my mom and my NP.
So we get into the room and the ultrasound tech asks if I'm sexually active. No. She asks if I've gotten a Pap smear. I explain that my NP wouldn't do it so no. She then informs me that she was going to do an internal ultrasound but decided to do an external one because I am a virgin and have not experienced anything that invasive yet. Great.
Then I am asked to lay down so she can see how full my bladder is. It was teensy! I was instructed to drink as much water as I could so I down another Nalgene bottle (32 oz.) and a half in addition to the half Nalgene I had already consumed since last using the restroom. Keep in mind I have not eaten since 0630 and it's rounding on about 1330-1400. Anyway, my friend and I go back to the waiting room and she's drinking water with me to help me fill up my bladder.
Another 30 minutes and about 15 funny videos later, the tech comes back out to check my status and the ultrasound shows that my bladder is full enough! Yay!
So pants are unbuttoned and pulled down to just low enough to expose where my bladder and uterus are. The tech pours some warm jelly on the exposed area and starts pressing right where she needs to not press because I'm fixin' to lose all the urine in my bladder if she presses too hard. Pretty soon my uterus gets pointed out to me and it turns out I hang to the left, just a little bit. Haha, comedic relief is helping me get through this and I was slap happy because I was so nervous and I laughed for a solid 5 minutes at my own joke.
10 minutes of smooshing around above my full, and still filling bladder, and she started zooming in. Measurements were taken of each ovary and some labeling, no big deal. I noticed that one of my ovaries was black while the other was gray. She then went from traditional 2D ultrasound and switched to 3D. I thought nothing of it at the time, but the more I think about it, the more freaked out I get about that. It looked bigger, to me, and she looked through different levels of it with the 3D ultrasound thing. She didn't do that to the other one.
Being an ultrasound tech, she wasn't allowed to diagnose me or share the findings because she has to wait for the MD to look them over and then call my NP and then I may get the results at some point during the course of what feels like 80138474536947 years from now.
In the meantime, I'm trying to limit my panic attacks but that's not going well. I came straight home and peed, for the 3rd time in 30 minutes, and fell asleep on the couch. I don't know why because I got a solid 9 hours of sleep last night because I didn't have to do a careplan. Then I woke up from my map with a panic attack and a realization that she investigated the black ovary but not the gray one.
Boyfriend doesn't know about the ultrasound yet, I want to tell him so badly but I think it needs to be in person and after I get the results. We talked on the phone last night about a bunch of deep stuff and he asked what I would do if we found out that one of us was infertile. It was completely out of the blue and without knowing my fears of cancer/infertility/other scary things that I am experiencing right now. He told me I could think about it for a few day but I didn't need to. I responded saying that I had wanted to maybe adopt a kid or two anyway so we could just do that. He agreed and we moved on to more tough questions. Even after asking what brought him to ask that, he said it was just a though he had had but it was weird to me because I am actually terrified that may be my reality.
I'm struggling.
If I find out I have cancer or I'm infertile, I think I'm going to break up with Boyfriend. That's not fair to him to be stuck with me through that. We've been going out for a few days shy of a month and there's no reason for him to feel like he has to stay with me just because I am sick (if I'm sick) or through my (possible) infertility.
My heart is heavy, my mind is racing, I think I might explode.
I finally told my roommate about my symptoms. She knew I had gone to the doctor's and that they ran the STD panel, UA, CBC, thyroid test, and the ultrasound. But she asked why the did the ultrasound so I had to explain everything to her. I'm getting better about talking about things that normally make me really uncomfortable. That's likely, largely helped by Boyfriend helping me to discuss stuff I wouldn't mention before. You know, feelings, kissing, sex, marriage, etc. So Roommate knows and I've been freaking out to her a little bit but I hold off a lot because I don't want to bother her or my other nursing school buddy that I told about it with my problems and irrational fears.
I'm going to bed. Pray with me if you think about it.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Labs Came Back
Do y'all remember how I told you I got my blood drawn (twice) when I went to the nurse practitioner (NP) the other day? They finally called back and told me everything was normal. That means:
I have no STD's... DUH!!! I pretty much told the NP that but she didn't believe me.
My thyroid is okay.
They said nothing about me being anemic but I would like copies of all my labs so that I can look over my CBC and whatever else she ordered for myself. Yay for nursing school teaching me what labs mean!
Meanwhile, we have no leads of what is wrong with me so I am going to an ultrasound tomorrow afternoon, after clinicals, to see if they can find anything.
I might inform you guys of my symptoms at a later date but I've only told my mom, NP, and one friend who we share darn near everything with each other and normally I wouldn't even tell my mom let alone anyone else! I'm just that private, sorry. However, I am working on sharing more with more people. I will tell you, however, I am legitimately concerned I have cancer because we had a family friend who had many of the same symptoms and she had breast cancer. I have no lumps, but I'm still very concerned.
I told Boyfriend, before I went to the NP, that I thought I had cancer and he just laughed and hugged me. Awww! I think he'll do just fine and I actually felt comforted. My mom had already received the call of me crying without her knowing it, though, about a week or two before I told him because I really wasn't going to tell him unless they found something. There must be something wrong with my filter though, because it just spilled out. I didn't tell him why I was going, but just that I thought I had cancer. He's great, and getting even better, at talking me down from freaking out.
I have no STD's... DUH!!! I pretty much told the NP that but she didn't believe me.
My thyroid is okay.
They said nothing about me being anemic but I would like copies of all my labs so that I can look over my CBC and whatever else she ordered for myself. Yay for nursing school teaching me what labs mean!
Meanwhile, we have no leads of what is wrong with me so I am going to an ultrasound tomorrow afternoon, after clinicals, to see if they can find anything.
I might inform you guys of my symptoms at a later date but I've only told my mom, NP, and one friend who we share darn near everything with each other and normally I wouldn't even tell my mom let alone anyone else! I'm just that private, sorry. However, I am working on sharing more with more people. I will tell you, however, I am legitimately concerned I have cancer because we had a family friend who had many of the same symptoms and she had breast cancer. I have no lumps, but I'm still very concerned.
I told Boyfriend, before I went to the NP, that I thought I had cancer and he just laughed and hugged me. Awww! I think he'll do just fine and I actually felt comforted. My mom had already received the call of me crying without her knowing it, though, about a week or two before I told him because I really wasn't going to tell him unless they found something. There must be something wrong with my filter though, because it just spilled out. I didn't tell him why I was going, but just that I thought I had cancer. He's great, and getting even better, at talking me down from freaking out.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Loose Interpretations
I've been looking on Craigslist for potential roommates because that seemed like a good idea and I have noticed that people have different interpretations of just about everything.
"Huge room with view!" Translation: the bedroom is about 2 inches squared using a generous measuring system and it overlooks the neighbors window.
"Nice house with BRAND NEW appliances." Translation: nothing has been changed since the 1800's and the house could collapse on top of you while you're sleeping.
"Nice neighborhood." Translation: it's in a part of town that even cops refuse to visit.
No, it was not my idea to look for a roomie on CL. I know that it is all sorts of bad ideas because there is no real way to know them and there are murderers and other people waiting to do unsavory things to the poor people that fall into their traps. My friend talked me into it. Let's call her Big Red because she is the tiniest petite little lady I've ever met, but she has red hair. Anyway, that's what she and I did during class this week when my teacher decided to call on me TWICE during the class time. I had no idea what she was asking or what we were doing but I survived. I'm getting better at pretending that I know what I'm doing even though I hardly ever have a clue.
I turned in my letter stating I will be leaving my apartment when my lease is up. That's pretty scary because I have nowhere that I am planning to go, yet... Oh L-rd, I trust You and I REALLY need a place to live with good roommates that won't make life miserable and preferably a lot of space. It would be fantastic if they decided that they liked me and we could be buddies. That would be a miracle. I believe miracles happen and I desperately need several of them... simultaneously... pronto.
G-d doesn't move on our time frames. He's not our genie or Santa Clause or our servant. It's a good thing He isn't because life would be awful and the World would be a huge mess with everyone getting everything they ever wanted whenever they wanted it. Can you imagine? Yikes.
"Huge room with view!" Translation: the bedroom is about 2 inches squared using a generous measuring system and it overlooks the neighbors window.
"Nice house with BRAND NEW appliances." Translation: nothing has been changed since the 1800's and the house could collapse on top of you while you're sleeping.
"Nice neighborhood." Translation: it's in a part of town that even cops refuse to visit.
No, it was not my idea to look for a roomie on CL. I know that it is all sorts of bad ideas because there is no real way to know them and there are murderers and other people waiting to do unsavory things to the poor people that fall into their traps. My friend talked me into it. Let's call her Big Red because she is the tiniest petite little lady I've ever met, but she has red hair. Anyway, that's what she and I did during class this week when my teacher decided to call on me TWICE during the class time. I had no idea what she was asking or what we were doing but I survived. I'm getting better at pretending that I know what I'm doing even though I hardly ever have a clue.
I turned in my letter stating I will be leaving my apartment when my lease is up. That's pretty scary because I have nowhere that I am planning to go, yet... Oh L-rd, I trust You and I REALLY need a place to live with good roommates that won't make life miserable and preferably a lot of space. It would be fantastic if they decided that they liked me and we could be buddies. That would be a miracle. I believe miracles happen and I desperately need several of them... simultaneously... pronto.
G-d doesn't move on our time frames. He's not our genie or Santa Clause or our servant. It's a good thing He isn't because life would be awful and the World would be a huge mess with everyone getting everything they ever wanted whenever they wanted it. Can you imagine? Yikes.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
Trying Something New...
If you've followed me for any length of time, you probably know that I am neurotic and really weird when it comes to dating. I wasn't planning on dating until later into my college career but my plans have changed.
I got a boyfriend today. Wow, that is weird to say.
It's my best friend from last year. He asked me out before and I just wasn't ready. I'm still not ready. However, I'm taking a leap of faith and giving into my heart for once. It may blow up in my face and then I'll be right back on here venting about how stupid I was for ever trying something like this. Maybe I'll learn a thing or two. In fact, I've already learned a bunch of stuff. I learned how to start a hard conversation and how to direct the conversation. That's huge for me because if something makes me uncomfortable (and it's not required for work or something) then I avoid it at all costs. Hard talks are one of those things because I don't want people to know the deep innards of me. That is all mine. It's even hard to go to G-d with that stuff, but He taught me how to do that.
I don't really know what G-d wanted for me with this. I don't know if He was giving me a go-ahead or if He wanted me to be strong and resist. It seems like I can't hear Him lately. I think that's because I'm listening to music constantly and unintentionally ignoring Him. Why is it so hard to focus on listening and talking to Him? I know that He is still there with me regardless of what happens, unless I remove myself from His presence and instruction, however, I also know that I haven't been working so hard to stay close with Him. This lukewarm thing is really not good because I don't know His voice anymore. I haven't heard it in months. What if me dating this boy was actually a really bad idea and I screwed up a ton of stuff? I know G-d can fix it if need be, but I don't want to go through unnecessary heart-ache and pain because that's just silly. I also know that I'm freaking out and that's making me over-think everything right now.
I prayed for faith building and to be able to hear Him last week in church. That is like praying for patience... Asking for those things is sketchy because G-d gives you a billion ways to develop that particular trait instead of just giving you the trait. Needless to say, my week has been rough and I don't know if this whole boyfriend thing is part of that or not. Scary!!!
I'm headed to church. Goodnight y'all and Shabbat Shalom!
Oh my goodness, I forgot to tell you that I'm going out to lunch with him and his mom tomorrow. I'm super nervous. I've met her before and we get along just fine but I'm really awkward and weird.
I got a boyfriend today. Wow, that is weird to say.
It's my best friend from last year. He asked me out before and I just wasn't ready. I'm still not ready. However, I'm taking a leap of faith and giving into my heart for once. It may blow up in my face and then I'll be right back on here venting about how stupid I was for ever trying something like this. Maybe I'll learn a thing or two. In fact, I've already learned a bunch of stuff. I learned how to start a hard conversation and how to direct the conversation. That's huge for me because if something makes me uncomfortable (and it's not required for work or something) then I avoid it at all costs. Hard talks are one of those things because I don't want people to know the deep innards of me. That is all mine. It's even hard to go to G-d with that stuff, but He taught me how to do that.
I don't really know what G-d wanted for me with this. I don't know if He was giving me a go-ahead or if He wanted me to be strong and resist. It seems like I can't hear Him lately. I think that's because I'm listening to music constantly and unintentionally ignoring Him. Why is it so hard to focus on listening and talking to Him? I know that He is still there with me regardless of what happens, unless I remove myself from His presence and instruction, however, I also know that I haven't been working so hard to stay close with Him. This lukewarm thing is really not good because I don't know His voice anymore. I haven't heard it in months. What if me dating this boy was actually a really bad idea and I screwed up a ton of stuff? I know G-d can fix it if need be, but I don't want to go through unnecessary heart-ache and pain because that's just silly. I also know that I'm freaking out and that's making me over-think everything right now.
I prayed for faith building and to be able to hear Him last week in church. That is like praying for patience... Asking for those things is sketchy because G-d gives you a billion ways to develop that particular trait instead of just giving you the trait. Needless to say, my week has been rough and I don't know if this whole boyfriend thing is part of that or not. Scary!!!
I'm headed to church. Goodnight y'all and Shabbat Shalom!
Oh my goodness, I forgot to tell you that I'm going out to lunch with him and his mom tomorrow. I'm super nervous. I've met her before and we get along just fine but I'm really awkward and weird.
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