Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Itchy Sweaters: My skin is too small
I spend 14 hours a day sitting. Those of you who know me know that sitting still is not necessarily my strong point... but I'm doing it. And I'm learning. But the thing is... I'm still confused.
This stuff fascinates me. I know that when I go to law school that this experience will be invaluable and I will know so much, not only that, I'm surrounded by people that understand the importance of appreciating those who are different from us, which is a beautiful thing. But I haven't played my guitar in a month. I have no inspiration, and no desire to have any. I wear sweaters that itch... and itch... and itch... and I constantly feel like I'm going to burst out of my skin and find myself in some alternate reality where my dreams actually meet my reality. ... constantly.
I never do. And the itchy sweaters still itch. Bad.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
10-4. Over..... Copy That.
Despite my sarcasm, I do believe that I don't get a do-over, and the only chance at "redemption" I really have is in attempting to make the best of what I have learned from those mistakes. But I have a question for you... why is that always so damn hard?
I have trained myself to be a certain way, and now that I have learned, logically, how to handle myself differently, how do I make my emotions do it? And how do I make others around me see that I am different if they are unwilling to believe that I am not the 12 year old, over-weight, attention seeking badass? How can you change, and be that changed person if people constantly force you into the corners you've always been in? How do you change the way you react?
I have tried. I don't yell anymore. I don't fight. I sigh, calmly, and hope that they back away and let me breathe. But they still yell the same, throw words like punches and jab their teeth into my skin, pouring insults directly into my weary bloodstream. I try to keep quiet; I hold my tongue so far in the back of my mouth that I think I may lose it forever. I swallow my opinions, convince myself that my emotions are invalid, convince myself that I am the issue and that they are justified in their constant antagonizing. I roll over and submit to the beating.... sticks and stones may break my bones, but let me tell you something: Words hurt the most. And I am tired of words. I am tired of choking down the pain and the hurt to keep from doing the same, when all that I want... all that I have ever wanted is peace.
Those of you that know me, know that I was not built to be a fighter, but a laugher and a lover. But when you are brought into a fight, you either come in swinging or you end up dead. So I have swung, kicked, punched, elbowed, bit and scratched. I have had broken bones, bruises, but they heal. Broken spirits take a lot longer, broken hearts take a lot longer... especially if you have a hard time remembering where you left yours.
So, my question is... how do I rise above my surroundings in my attempts to make real change? How do I love these people who can't love me enough to let me be happy, to let me have peace, to not break my heart every.single.day. without becoming calloused to them?
I have made extreme improvements, and I will get to the good parts, but today this is really weighing on me: how can you change in an environment that stays the same... negative, pessimistic, ill, selfish, sad, depressing.....? How can you change if you're in this? And how can you change if you can't get out of it? or is it even about that at all... should I just be able to shrug the pain off?
Friends?
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
New Beginnings: Chances of a do-over.
Though I did learn an extensive amount of the Thai language, and certainly learned a great deal about myself; I formed close relationships with co-teachers and with students, with restauranteers and bartenders, local musicians and even local lady-boys. I even taught English to Monks at a near by Temple every day. I even went into hill tribes to teach them English. I even went bungee jumping and zip lining and white water rafting. Though I DID everything that I really could, I didn't fully experience Thai culture by any means. I experienced the glamorous culture of a 21 year old, lonely, depressed, drunk ex-patriot living in an exotic country where everything she could possibly want was at her disposal.
I had opportunities to make a massive difference, and on various occasions, opted out because of a hang over, or because I was on my way to one. I spent countless hours crying in my permanent housing, which was basically a hotel room for 8 months of my stay. I constantly wanted to be everywhere that I wasn't. However, on the rare occasion that I did really take in where I was and how much I had accomplished by and before 21 years old, I was completely in awe of myself, even if I couldn't admit it out loud.
Following Thailand, I moved to Little Rock, Arkansas which is where I spent the majority of the first 16 years of my life. I hadn't lived there permanently since. though I made a point to visit every year. After the birth of my niece and the earth shattering realization that my lovely grandmother will not live forever, I decided to spend some time there. So, in November of 2008, I moved back to Little Rock. There are many stories that can be told of my year and a half spent in Little Rock, but they wouldn't be too incredibly different from the stories I could tell of Thailand: watered down with lost memories and cheap whiskey. In the following November, almost exactly a year after my arrival, I found myself with serious stomach problems, 30lbs lighter, on frightening amounts of anti-depressants; these paired with no sleep, no self-worth, horrible work hours and constant suicidal thoughts put me in pretty bad shape. I tried to kill myself.
Now, I realize that this is not an easy thing for most people to broach, and I'm not one to throw these things out on the internet, but in order for you to understand the depth of the person this is coming from, you must understand that I have felt darkness. I have held pain in my mouth and tried to swallow it and I have choked and suffocated;I have died. I have never been so incredibly lifeless. I found myself in my bed, my 'cave', my own hell to hide in--and I hid.
There is much more to tell of this, but all you need to know right now is that I tried, and obviously I failed... which I am thankful for.
I have written this in an attempt to re-start this blog. To account the events of my life from my current perspective, to celebrate new beginnings and to weigh my chances. I don't get a do-over, but I do get a continuance. I don't get yesterday back, I don't get mean words back or misguided actions... but I get right now and I get tomorrow, and I hope to share my thoughts and endeavors with you, and hope that you will respond to them-- to me.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Hot then cold; Yes then no.
Tangent:
Could someone tell me why its okay to do one thing and say another? What can't we say what we mean and do what we say? Is it really that hard to follow through. You hear old people talking about how in their day, that a man was only as good as his word... shouldn't that still apply. Now, men are only as good as what? The job they have? The people they choose to spend time with? Their recreational activities? The car they drive? Could someone please tell me why our values have shifted so much? Some people might argue that the feminist movement ruined the balance, maybe it did. I can see either side of that argument; however, would the importance of the male role still be provider if women hadn't fought for their deserved equality? Because, I must say that the amount of women taking on that role, and having to because the men walk out or flake, or decide they "can't commit", is significant to say the least. The amount of mothers raising children without fathers, and the amount of men collecting children like trophies-- proof of their pathetic 'manhood'-- trophies that someone else shines, feeds, clothes and educates.
And the sad thing about this is that our little boys are being taught that this abandonment of responsibility is OKAY. ... so, maybe the feminist movement is to blame, I don't know... but without it, we'd all be screwed.
Basically, I just don't understand why we can't say what we mean, do what we say, and take responsibility for what we do. If you produce a child, take care of it. If you say you'll call, call. If you're man enough to make the promise or do the action, you should be man enough to live up to it.
Now, back to me: I'm in constant transition, it seems; always moving from one thing to the next, and I know that my little soul doesn't handle transition well... but it doesn't handle NOT transitioning well, either. I'm not so sure that it handles ANYTHING well, actually.
I just moved into a new apartment, and I love my apartment, but I would be lying if I said I don't get lonely, because I really really do. I go to sleep lonely and I wake up lonely. I eat lonely, if I eat and I bathe lonely. I watch movies lonely and I play my guitar lonely. Like I said, I love my apartment, but most of the time I just wish there was someone else in it.
I've been working at UAMS for the past 2 months. I'm working on an oncology floor, and I love it. I've learned a lot, though I still have a LOT to learn. I love the people I work with, and my patients are my heart and soul. I actually don't MIND coming to work, which is such a wonderful feeling... it could be because I don't have much of a life outside of work though. Who knows?
I could type all of these deep thoughts, and let you really get a glimpse as to what goes on in my little pea sized brain, but I'll leave that for my own little journal, but I assure you... this is not even an sixteenth of it.
But I will leave this on a question...
How can you fix something when you can't tell is broken on the outside, that you can't pull apart to look at the inside, but you're positive that it just doesn't work the way it should?
Sunday, July 26, 2009
In need of a song...
Now, I have had a bad day. The first honest to goodness BAD day in a very long time... what makes a bad day? Is it something that happens? Is it just one event that ruins an entire period of 24 hours? I don't get it... because I just don't have WHOLE bad days very often. I may have a bad few hours, but not a whole day, and today has just been horrible.... I wonder if its because of the moon. Whatever it is, I'm ready for tomorrow.
If you don't live in Little Rock, please please please take time to come visit me. I miss you.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
The way things are.
I've started a new job a UAMS (a hospital in Little Rock) and am taking pre-reqs to get into a Nursing program... I'm looking at Philadelphia. There are good programs at Drexel and Jefferson. I don't think I can handle Little Rock for long enough to do nursing school here. NOOOOPE. hahaha. I do love my job thus far! Its awesome! I'm moving into a new Apartment on the 3rd, which I'm SUPER excited about! I have to figure out furniture, but I'm not too worried about that... it'll come.
Now, I'm really writing because I have something on my mind, and nowhere to say it, so here we go:
We all have moments when we sit back and say "wow, this really is... this really is what it is." I know, it sounds silly, but you know I'm right. When you realize that you have what you have, only you can change that, despite the urge you may have to expect other people to change it for you.
On that same note, there is a point in most of our lives when we look back on all of the mistakes we've made, and all of the triumphs we've had and are able to say "wow, I did that." It becomes an issue when all you can see are your own triumphs and are unable to admit that your mistakes are indeed YOUR mistakes... no one elses.
This is something that's really been bothering me lately: people that can't take responsibility for their own actions. We all make mistakes, and if we're lucky, we're able to learn from them... if we are mature enough to take responsibility for them. However, if we're not, we could spend years angry at the world because of how hard our lives have been. Not that some people aren't delt shitty hands, don't get me wrong... but sometimes, you choose the cards. Sometimes you get the choice between an Ace or a 3, and if you choose the 3... that's your bad... now of course, that depends on the game, but I think most of you get my drift. If you are offered a drug addiction... you have the choice to refuse it. If you don't, that's your choice. Nobody put that drug into your veins... you did. You can be mad at the people that offered it to you, gave it to you, or even pressured you into doing it... but no one FORCED you to do it. That was your decision... right? Or am I just way off point here?
I'm tired of people being victims, being bitter and hateful because "I've had such a shitty life", particularly when those people CHOSE. If you come from the same blood and the same situation as someone who has a completely different life, that is because of choices... not because you haven't had choices. Its because you made the WRONG choices. So, own up to it. Stop being an asshole to the people that love you and learn to appreciate that you had people that cared enough to stick by you despite the fact that you treat them like crap. Learn to appreciate the fact that people forgive you and forgive you and forgive you for your bad moods, for your constant hatefulness, selfishness and materialism. Learn to appreciate the fact that you have a family that loves you. Stop being such a selfish asshole, lest you end up alone.
Now, I can feel myself getting angry... but its REALLY been getting to me lately. It isn't fair to the people that care about you. So, if you're a person who believes the whole world has shit on you, take a look around, take a look at yourself. The likelihood is that you shat on yourself... and that, my dears, is noone else's fault. Its yours. Deal with it.
Lyrics to a song I wrote about this exact thing. Its a beautiful song, and I think the bridge sums up what I mean perfectly. WOO.
I've made mistakes,
and I've apologized,
but you are so hateful...
and so quick to criticize.
Yes, I mess up,
and make bad decisions,
but I think I've earned--
just a little consideration.
But if perfection won't do,
neither will I...
If I'll only fail,
why should I try?
Cause you weren't the glue
that held me together...
No I'm not falling apart over a broken forever...
I deserve more than that.
You'll patronize,
and throw out insults,
one after another,
with no results.
You'll be ignored,
and left all alone...
and you'll be unnerved,
when you're kicked off your throne...
But if perfection won't do,
neither will I...
If I'll only fail,
why should I try?
Cause you weren't the glue
that held me together...
No I'm not falling apart over a broken forever...
I deserve more than that.
You made mistakes...
Made bad decisions...
You're such a victim,
and the only one to blame...
You made your bed,
and now you can't sleep,
with the nightmares you lived,
that are haunting your dreams.
But if perfection won't do,
neither will I...
If I'll only fail,
why should I try?
Cause you weren't the glue
that held me together...
No I'm not falling apart over a broken forever...
I deserve more than that,
I deserve more than that...
yes, I deserve more than that...
And that's what I'll have.
I have learned, with time, that my mistakes are mine and noone else's, and, frankly, I'm sick of being blamed for other people's regrets. I have my own. You will never be happy until you realize that YOU have control over your own life...
I'm sorry you're so miserable.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Run Baby, Run.
This year is my year to be still, but I still can't help myself from feeling that I need to run... far and fast. Things get too comfortable, people get too close and I instantly want OUT. My song for this is an oooold song by Sheryl Crow from her Album "Tuesday Night Club", which was released when I was in the 4th grade. It was my VERY FIRST CD, and is probably still one of my favorites to this day... So, in my attempt to be still, I listen to songs about running.
Run Baby, Run.
She was born in November 1963
The day Aldous Huxley died
And her mama believed
That every man could be free
So her mama got high, high, high
And her daddy marched on Birmingham
Singing mighty protest songs
And he pictured all the places
That he knew that she belonged
But he failed and taught her young
The only thing she's need to carry on
He taught her how to
Run baby run baby run baby run
Baby run
Past the arms of the familiar
And their old familiar ways
To the comfort of the strangers
Slipping out before they say
so long
Baby loves to run
She counts out all her money
In the taxi on the way to meet her plane
Stares hopeful out the window
At the workers fighting
Through the pouring rain
She's searching through the stations
For an unfamiliar song
And she's pictures all the places
Where she knows she still belongs
And she smiles the secret smile
Because she knows exactly how
To carry on
So run baby run baby run baby run
Baby run
From the old familiar faces and
Their old familiar ways
To the comfort of the strangers
Slipping out before they say
So long
Baby loves to run
