Slacker

Again, I've been slacking.

Life took hold of me and I lost sight of some things. Blogging being one of them.

I've sat for my state boards. I passed. Hooray. I found a job. Hooray! I'll be working in a smaller town. I have a nursing position in a pediatric/orthopedic unit. I start November 12th. I'm really very exicted.

All the pieces are falling into place. Things I hadn't counted on working out are.

It seems like I have so much to say, so much to update, so much to spill out over blank screen in front of me. I just haven't the time nor the ability. Soon. I've scheduled some time Saturday morning. I may even have some time tomorrow afternoon after I do my HR paper work and physical.

Often I've written of the dips. This is one of the highs. Just when I think I've reached the peak and life is going to take me down a stomach-flipping dip, I find I go a little higher. I'm always amazed. There really never is a dull moment in my life.

Sixteen Solid Pounds

The storms caused a bit of flood in our basement. I was cleaning. Seems like all I ever do these days. Tons of papers had to be tossed away. I unboxed and reboxed many old artifacts. I wrapped memories in tissue paper and tucked them neatly into containers of packing peanuts. The pile for donation to charity was almost as large as the pile to send to the storage locker. Finally my life was coming together. I felt lighter and a bit more free.

I picked up a box to get to the child's rocking chair beneath it. Suddenly the bottom fell through and there was a thud. I stood there stunned for a moment. Then there was the pain. Like a flash. My father yelled down to me, "Are you okay?" I quickly sat down in the chair a few steps away. "I don't know," I replied with genuine uncertainty. The pain had subsided but I felt strange. I slid my shoe off and began pulling my sock off. Red trickled down my foot. "No, I'm not. Please bring ice now!" My brother stepped to my side and my father looked down. Instinctively I held my hand over my toe, guarding it from them. I couldn't feel the pain at the moment but I was sure it would come any minute. The great toe on my right foot took the brunt of the force from the sixteen pound bowling ball that had been in the water-logged box.

My brother helped me up two flights of stairs. I felt weak and a bit light headed. I made it to my bed and my father and mother quickly went to work on my foot. My brother held my hand and cracked jokes, that were actually quite funny, to keep me distracted. There was no way to tell if my toe was broken at the moment. There was too much blood. My pretty pedicure was ruined for sure. The least of my worries. The matrix of the nail, the very base under the cuticle was now exposed. The nail was still attached at the sides and a bit in the middle. My parents cleaned the wound and medicated me. I tried to stay calm and help. My body wouldn't stop shaking. Shock. I could tell you the pathophysiology of what was happening to me. In all the pain and commotion I managed to get my brother to take pictures. I know, I'm odd. It's okay.

That was Monday evening. I've been home since then with my foot elevated. I clean the wound twice a day. I still can't tolerate any weight on the foot. Tomorrow is a trip to urgent care. My boyfriend seems to think I should have gone the first night. I thought I'd be fine. The problem is, it's still bleeding. It's still swollen and we need to be sure it's not broken. I don't have health insurance. This isn't going to be cheap. There's sure to be X-rays and pain medication and all that. And they'll probably want to remove the nail. Did I mention it may not grow back considering the amount of damage done to the root? Do you think a press-on nail will look too ridiculous? Just when I was starting to get into the whole girly thing of wearing open toed shoes and pedicures and what-not!

Darvocet and crutches are my friends the past few days. In fact, I've just had some pain medication now. My head is starting to feel fuzzy and my toe is throbbing a little less. I'd share the photos but they're far too icky. I'm sure it would look worse if the nail hadn't been painted.

Seriously, I'm a walking - or hobbling- accident waiting to happen.

Things Are A Bit Messy

I haven't updated in quite some time. It's been a bit hectic and to be perfectly honest, I haven't had the energy. I don't really have wonderful cheery news. I don't have many nice things to say. By the rules my grandmother taught me I should, therefore, say nothing at all. Perhaps by purging my head of these thoughts I'll find peace and at the very least a moment of rest.

My ATT (Authorization To Test) has not arrived. I'm anxiously awaiting this silly piece of paper that is the key to the next step of my future. According to the website it could take up to four weeks for the letter to arrive. The few others I've spoken with received their letters within a week. It's been almost three weeks. Should I worry? Probably not but I do regardless. It's what I do best.

My father was hospitalized on Monday morning. He foolishly drove himself to the emergency room with severe abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting, and fever. Why didn't he wake anyone up? No idea. I suppose it's a male way of thinking. He had a cholecystectomy (removal of the gallbladder) on Wednesday morning after the nephrologist, endocrinologist, and cardiologist cleared him for surgery. From what I hear his surgeon was wonderful. So much so in fact, Mum wants to invite him for dinner in hopes of marrying me off. Nevermind the fact I have a boyfriend. Poor Kevin. Looks like he has competition. My father came home Friday evening. He's off work for a week until his check-up. I'm sure all will be well. He just gave us a bit of scare.

I'm house/doggy/kitty sitting for a friend/coworker. It's a cute little house in Arlington Heights. She has two dogs and two cats. They're all adorable and have great personalities. I haven't slept with Ducky. There just isn't room. On average I have two animals with me. Not just with me but right on me. They are very loving animals. Except when the mailman comes. Then they turn into little hellhounds. Yesterday I came home from work ill. I curled up on the couch barely able to move, completely exhausted from the virus. The dogs curled up with me and kept me warm. Today I called in sick though I really shouldn't have. Paychecks are desperately needed but I really don't want to spread my germs around the office. I hate being blamed for the latest bug outbreak. If people washed their hands and covered their mouths the office wouldn't be half as sick as it has been. I digress. I stayed home and watched movies while napping on the couch. My boyfriend came over and took me to a movie and then spent some cuddle time with me on the couch. He's very attentive. He may not be a doctor but he knows how to keep me in line. Thanks to him, I now have a decent supply of tissues and cold medicine as well as vitamin water.

The past few days have been exceptionally difficult for numerous reasons. Deep wounds from the past have not completely healed. I've come to realize a few things about myself that I never really knew before. Perhaps I knew I just didn't really understand. The realization gave me a new perspective on my life and my relationships with people. I knew it was time I had to let someone close to me in a little further. It was time to let down the wall, to pull back the curtain and let him see me exactly as I am. He needed to know the past events that helped make me the person I am today. I've told the story to those closest to me many times before. I've even spoken in groups. Somehow this seemed different. I know the reaction I've had in the past hasn't always been favorable. Some pass judgment against me. Some blame me. And for some, it's too much for them to handle and our friendship ends there. He deserved to know the truth. No matter how awful it is. Our relationship could not progress without revealing this bit of information. This bit that seems to weigh a ton.
Three glasses of wine later I found the courage to open up to him. The anniversary of awful events was upon me and the recurring nightmares had begun earlier than usual. Sleepless nights and intrusive thoughts rob me of my happiness and energy. So I wear a mask. To protect others. Over the years I find more and more that people would rather live in their own happy worlds than face the truth. When they ask the question usually they don't really want the answer. The mask works well. But I can't ware the mask for him. He sees through it. He knows there's a problem.
I sat beside him after an hour of friendly chat. It's a blur now. I don't even know how it started. I just remember the tightness in my chest and the fast pounding of my heart. There was terror in his eyes. I hadn't even told him yet. He was expecting something awful. I tried to skip the details but it was clear some were needed. I slid to the floor beside him and gazed off into the corner. It's easier if I don't have to look into his eyes. I started from the beginning. My words stuck in my throat and I forced them out through tears. The whole thing played in my mind again like some awful snuff film. It took all my energy to stay in the present. My fingers wound around my chain and the sheets and whatever else I could lay my hands on just to keep me grounded in reality. He was silent. So silent I had wondered if he had stopped listening. At some point he slid down on the floor next to me and held my arm. The story was over. I felt empty and achy. He turned to me with red eyes and told me how he'd always be there for me though he was terrified. No amount of training ever really prepares you for this. It's one of those things you read in textbooks but never really think will happen. No one ever wants to think it will happen. But it does. Frequently. 1 in 3.
So finally more of me made sense. Things were more clear to him. For a moment I thought I was in the clear. I thought it had gone exceedingly well. That frightened me. There was no immediate reaction. I didn't know what to make of it. He asked me what we were to do. He asked me if I was ending our relationship. He said he couldn't stop me from leaving. And it hit me. He didn't want this. He didn't want to know. He wasn't ready for the truth. Somewhere I found strength. I don't know where. Through red puffy eyes and endless tears I forgave him. I told him it was okay, that I understood. I stood to go, looking for my keys but he stopped me. He spoke but I could not hear him. All I could hear were my thoughts, how foolish I had been to wait so long to tell him. I should have told him sooner rather than later. Why did I think this would work? The calm and clarity that I possessed seemed to balance the sheer panic in him. His words came tumbling out of his mouth so fast without any order. He held tightly to my hands. Together we worked it out. We talked. This was a first. I had never seen anything like it. His first inclination was to run. But he didn't. He sat with me and holding on to me for fear of losing me. He was different. I had underestimated him. The night ended with affection, support, and an understanding. It was a good start.

Not very eloquent. Not the best I've ever written. But I'll place some blame on the cold medicine and the congested head.

For now, I think I'll try to sleep. I pray for a dreamless sleep. One of rest. I pray to fight the demons some other night when I can breathe through both nostrils simultaneously, when my throat doesn't burn, and when my head doesn't feel like it weighs fifty pounds.

Peanut Butter

Peanut butter... it's yummy, sticky, creamy or crunchy, and quite versatile. For some unknown reason when an answer fails me "peanut butter" is the first thing to pop in my head. GracieLou was kind enough to entertain me with a story not just involving but actually revolving around peanut butter. I thought I'd give it a go since she was such a good sport.



Sitting on the patio overlooking the lake she sipped her coffee, letting it spill slowly over her lips pooling on her tongue. She savored the rich flavor for a long moment before finally swallowing. Closing her eyes, she slid back in her chair letting her shoulders relax. The early morning was her favorite time of day. It was perfectly silent save for the sounds of nature greeting the day.



In the distance she heard the high pitched chatter of a young woman. Opening her eyes, she sat forward squinting down toward the lake. On the shore stood a tall thin blonde dramatically animated in a conversation with a young man. "It's far too early for a lover's quarrels," she thought to herself. "Perhaps they aren't lovers at all; perhaps they're related." Swirling the last bit of coffee in her mug, she imagined the conditions of the tift.



The young woman crumpled into the sand, her hands covering her face. Clearly she was sobbing. The young man threw his head back in frustration. She could almost hear him grunt, "Ugh!" He crouched down beside her resting his hand on her back attempting to soothe her. She resisted this consolation, jerking away and sobbing even harder. "Perhaps, in a moment of wickedness, he revealed one of her deepest secrets," she speculated. Drawn further into the little drama, she sat her now empty coffee mug down and ventured a little walk for a closer look.



"Unrequited love. That's got to be it. No one sobs like that for any other reason." She was determined to find out what was torturing this poor woman. The closer she got the more she could hear. He was pacing helplessly around her. Through her sobs bits of sentences could be heard, "should have known," "it was mine." Now it was getting interesting. "What was it? A book? A jewel? Something of value?" Her thoughts raced. Curiosity devoured her. She tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. Along the way she stopped to pick a few wild flowers, pausing long enough to listen a bit more.





He was speaking slowly in a soft tone to the tearful woman that was now sitting upright, tears still streaming down her rosy cheeks. "Honestly, Jo, I didn't mean it." A name! The new bit of information only fed her curiosity. "Jo must be short for Josephine," she thought. He knelt down beside Jo with a look of genuine remorse. "Jo, I didn't realize it was so important. I'm sorry. Truly. When I walked in the room I saw the book setting on the table. Without thinking I picked it up and thumbed through it. I promise I didn't read anything bad! If I had known... You shouldn't have left it out anyway. I mean... No one was around. I had never seen the book before and wondered what it was. I'm sorry!" His hands were wrapped in hers as he pleaded for her forgiveness.





Jo's sobs had slowly turned into soft whimpers. She looked up at him struggling to forgive him. Her lips parted as if to say something but there was silence. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head. She let go of his hand and placed hers on his shoulder. "It's okay, Pip. Just promise you'll never tell anyone about it. Pretend you've never seen it. It doesn't exist. Don't ever talk about what you read!" Her face was a deep red which made her green eyes seem even brighter. She threw her arms around his neck burying her face in his shoulder. "Alright. I promise. I'll do whatever you want. Just stop crying for Pete's sake." His hand slid down from her back to her side and he tickled her until she pulled away giggling. "C'mon. I'll make you one of my famous PB & J sandwiches for breakfast." Even more cheerful now, Jo jumped in excitement. "Peanut butter and jelly always makes everything better, doesn't it Pip?" She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. As he hugged her in return they both noticed the woman silently watching them with a handful of wild flowers. Her face flushed as she realized she had been seen. Pip pulled Jo gently along.



With a bit of an embarrassed sigh, she climbed slowly up the hill again where her empty mug sat waiting for her. She wandered into the house and sat on the sofa feeling a bit bored. "How very anti-climactic," she thought. The silence lulled her to sleep.

Hours later she awoke to the soft rapping on the patio door. Groggily she shuffled her way over to the empty patio. She scanned the are looking for someone or something that could have made the noise. There was nothing. As she began to slide the door open she noticed a basket at her feet. In the distance just behind a tree she thought she had seen a bit of movement. There was nothing there now. Cautiously she opened the door and picked up the basket. Neatly wrapped in wax paper was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. There was a little square sheet of paper tucked on the side. It simply read, "Sorry for the ruckus." She looked around again hoping to catch the two characters from the little morning play but still saw no one. She couldn't be sure but she thought she heard the sweet giggle of the tall blonde somewhere in the distance. "Thank you, Jo and Pip!" she announced to the outdoors.

How Odd

I'm positive I've posted comments for people yet when I look again, there nowhere to be found. Either the post did not go through or, even more disturbingly, my friends rejected them.

Que triste!


I've been working a ton while job searching and attempting to get my life back in order in between studying for my board exam. I'm so depressed and overwhelmed. I think I'm ready for retirement. I haven't even started working! I just want to hide. Grrr! And to top it all, my girl parts hate me. They're revolting against me causing me a great deal of pain and discomfort.

I realize life is a roller coaster. I'm just trying to figure out when the ride's going to stop dipping and start going back up again. This is making my tummy hurt.

Empty "I-Love-You's"

He says these things but
there is no passion in them;
his heart is empty.

Admittedly,
I have deep wounds that burn as if
salt has been poured in.

Fresh from the shower
dripping wet without a towel,
Can you see me now?

Cold and hurt but not
broken - it takes much more than
that to wear me down.



* Just a note, this was written about a year and a half ago.

An older Haiku... I have loads of them...

-Untitled-

His eyes watching me,
taking in my every
move, it gives me chills.

Rendezvous

The sky is where they meet
Two great forces
The blazing sun
Sinking in the west
The milky moon
Drawn out into the eastern sky
They stare at each other
Watching each other's progress
A soft streak of clouds stands between them
The sky seems to blush
As if the moon risked a kiss from the sun
As quickly as they met
Day fades
And night sweeps in
The chance for something more
- Missed

Pondering...

I'm thinking about starting a blog of just poetry... I'm not sure. Maybe I should just do a poetry moment here every now and then....

What do you think?

Rambling...

Sometimes I lie awake, my head overstuffed with things that really don't seem to matter but for some reason won't leave me alone. Or is it perhaps that I won't leave the various matters alone? Either way, I find myself awake all hours of the night.



I held a pen in my hand for a couple hours hoping words would run from the pen to paper evacuating my head. Constipation of the mind... There's no laxative for that particular problem. Now I'm sitting at my cluttered desk, fingers resting on the keys.... and nothing. Well, something but nothing of any great consequence.



"Write. Anything. Everything. Just write." That's what the professor told me. Just start writing and eventually it will all come spilling forth. Perhaps writing is more like photography. For every one thousand shots taken perhaps ten turn out perfectly. For every one thousand lines, one line turns out perfectly.



At what point did I become so tragically lame? My vast knowledge of the English language has dwindled to basic phrases and of all things, cliches. Ghastly! Last night I journaled about my day at the courthouse. It was dreadful. The writing, not the day, that is.



Perhaps I should stick to photography, though that's not exactly my forte either. What is? What is it that sets me apart from others? Do I even have a talent? I'd venture to say no.



And the clacking of the keys continues yet nothing but dribble is expelled. Yet I can't give up. Not yet. I'm determined to write something of worth....

Inner turmoil

Something is bothering me. I can't quite pinpoint the source. I find myself drifting away in thought throughout the day no matter the company. There's a great feeling of sadness within me though I have no reason to be.

In a conversation with him today my eyes began to burn and I felt the twinge before a tear slipped from my eye and fell before him. It was the first of many. There was nothing I could do to make them stop. I excused myself to the washroom where I glared at my reflection, mentally demanding the tears to cease. After flushing my face with cold water I had finally regained control of my lacrimal ducts.

Silly little things bring me to the edge of tears. I feel everything right now. I could blame it on hormone levels. I truly think there's something more than a womanly flux of chemicals, though. My nights are frequently sleepless. I've spent many hours planning murals for my ceiling during the hours I should be dreaming.

In the past month I've sorted through dozens of problems for others. It's so much easier helping others than it is to exam one's self. I feel that I may have forgotten how to take a step back. Step away from myself and look objectively on to see wherein the problem lies.

I'll figure it out. Hopefully soon. Or it will be the death of me.

We're agreed

"You know you feel it."

"Yeah, so," I say sheepishly and turn my head away, attempting to hide my flushing cheeks. Of course I realize there's no use. He knows. Everyone knows. I'm like a book some say. At this particular moment, I'm more like a picture book; anyone can read me. I do feel it. I just don't know how to say it. That's not entirely true. Fear grips me tightly and squeezes every breath from me. I can't say it. It's physically impossible.

"Okay, so I feel it. I'm not saying it. I'm not using the "L" word. I refuse." I feel like I've admitted defeat. There might as well have been a stick in my hand with a white flag tied to the end waving in the air. I looked up to find a little smirk on his face. Quickly, I looked away again.

"We're agreed then." He kissed me once and smiled.


That was then... Now, well, now things are different.
He took the leap. After watching him dive in, I followed. And I've never been happier nor have I been so afraid. The "L" word isn't to be thrown around and used like some common term. It carries with it weight and deep profound meaning.

I caught myself gazing up at him as I was sprawled across one side of his bed and he sat typing away on the Mac. I realized how much I simply adore him. He's perfect in the ways that I am not. We compliment each other well. We enjoy each other's humor. That is something!

Sunday (Father's Day) evening he stopped by my house and ventured a game of Scene It with my family. Games are often dangerous in our house. We're a bit competitive and often ruthless. Well, depending on the game. When it comes to trivia... we tend to get a bit fierce. The day had been long and hot. We were all a bit tired and cranky. He stuck it out. I'm so pleased he gets along with my family. It's so very important to me. After everyone had gone to bed we stayed up to watch a few episodes of Robot Chicken.

He rested his head in my lap and his long body stretched out over the couch. Moments later I noticed his breathing had changed. I watched as his chest rose and fell rhythmically. There in my lap he slept, weary from a long day. It was perfect. My romantic side, the one I often tend to stifle, took great delight in the situation. It's possible that he was just so exhausted he would have fallen asleep anywhere. The other side of me argued that he was in fact quite content sleeping in my lap. I desperately longed to bend down and lightly kiss his soft lips. Of course, I refrained. He needed the sleep and I didn't want to ruin the perfect image.

One foot in front of the other. That's the only way to really go forward, right? That's the approach I'm taking anyway.

Writer's Block

Everything is there right below the surface. No matter how hard I try to hide it or bury it... it's still there. So I sat down and tried to let it out. I wanted everything to be released, flow freely from me.

I lit a candle, turned on soothing music, and sat comfortably at the computer. My mind flooded with images, memories of the little things that mean so much to me, little comments here and there. But nothing flowed past that.

What do I do? How do I get it out? I think I just won't allow myself to let go. Because if I do, then it's real. Then I'm allowing myself to have those feelings. But feelings are neither right nor wrong which is what I truly believe. So why don't I allow myself to feel these things? It's so frustrating for me. I can't imagine what it must be like for others around me.

Risks

"Why are you so guarded?"
That is the question, isn't it? It makes perfect sense to me but when I open my mouth to explain there's nothing. Quickly my mind searches for words and my throat releases some strange noise I've never heard myself make. He looks at me, an eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer. But I have no response. My mouth closes and my eyes close. Why is this so difficult? Fear of the unknown. Nothing is guaranteed.
He leans over. I feel the warmth of his cheek on mine as he whispers in my ear. There's a stinging in my eyes. I bite my lip.

The truth is always staring us in the face, out in plain view for all to see. It only becomes difficult to see because we have preconceived notions and ideas. We muddle everything up. As usual. We're good at that. Or maybe it's just me. I tend to think not.

I don't know what I'm doing. I'm standing on the edge of the dark. I know there's a road before me but I can only see a few feet ahead of me. All I have to do is take another step and I'll see a little further. I hesitate. I talk to myself frequently, arguing about my options. Some days are better than others. And some moments are easier than others. I guess the best thing to do is take a breath and place my foot forward. Calculated risks... Risk nothing, gain nothing.

Coming Soon

It has been ages since I've updated. I do apologize. I'm in the midst of composing a great blog. Okay, maybe not great but worthy of your attention...

It's just taking a bit of work. Also, I have a ton of laundry to work on. I do mean a ton! Just ask Grace! The mound is slightly less now.

Light at the end of the tunnel

Quick note:

I'm passing! Just by a smidge! Woohoo!

Pinning Ceremony: May 19th, 1PM in the Gym (get there around 12:30), refreshments to follow in Avante.

I'm not having a party until sometime in June. Not sure when just yet. Or where, for that matter.

My final is May 10th. Woohoo!

So far so good. Let's keep it that way.

Also, I may be going out of town from May 21-29th. Plans aren't concrete just yet.

I'll keep you posted.

Comfort in Unlikely Places

Cold rainy day. Dense fog. I have a chill so deep within me, no amount of blankets will warm me. It's been a long and trying day, as many of them have been lately. I wonder if I know what I'm doing. I'm almost certain I don't. Getting ready to end the day with a hot steaming shower in an attempt to wash away the stress and warm my aching body, I checked my messages one last time.
He was there, as if he knew and was waiting for me. His words warmed me. I let them wash over me like a stream of hot water taking the place of my therapeutic shower. Though I'm not as cheerful as I'd like, I am better. The comfort he provides surprises me. It's unexpected and inexplicable. In some ways he saves me from shedding unhappy tears and in their place the happy relieved ones fall. Release. That's what I needed. Somehow he always knows.

"The human being is the only animal that thinks about the future."

"To see is to experience the world as it is, to remember is to experience the world as it was, but to imagine - ah, to imagine is to experience the world as it isn't and has never been, but as it might be."

That passage is from a new book I'm reading in between nursing management. There's only so much PPO, HMO, DRGs that I can read about before feeling the need to pull out my hair. Anyway, it's by Daniel Gilbert called Stumbling On Happiness. I quite like it so far. It's the perfect combination of truths, logic, theory, and humor. He kind of reminds me of that wise man I mentioned before. I think he'd probably like the book. I just really love that line. It continues on with:

"The greatest achievemnet of the human brain is its ability to imagine objects and episodes that do not exist in the realm of the real, and it is this ability that allows us to think about the future."

I look forward to reading the book slowly, chewing on his words, savoring the flavor. It's quite interesting. Granted, I'm only five pages in but still, I read the entire foreword and acknowledgments. That's the part I usally just skim over.

Okay, enough gushing over this book. Just ponder that quote a bit.

I've just finished a series of sneezes, about 15 of them. My nose is cold and numb. My fingers are that purple-blue color. My toes are frozen. I swear there's a draft in my room. I can feel a breeze though I see no evidence of one. Goodness, please don't let me get a cold. I don't have the time or energy!

Someone please explain to me why I choose to live in this city? I hear Arizona is lovely. Nice and warm. No snow or ice. What in the world am I doing here? Oh, that's right. My family. It's a good thing they love me as much as I love them. I'd be so far from here!

The Mid-day Nightmare

My heart was pounding against my chest as if it were a wild animal trying to break free from a cage. Chaotic thoughts were racing in my mind. The stillness drove me mad. I scanned the barren desert in search of a phone, a car, something, anything, frantically trying to figure out what to do next. Where has everyone gone? Why is there so much blood? In the doorway of a little shop a silhouette appeared. I knew immediately it was her. I ran to her arms wide, tears flowing down my reddened cheeks. Through sobs I tried to explain what had happened. She stepped forward into the light and her smile fadded as she saw my distress. Together we tried to figure out things. I spun around feeling the heat of the sun directly over me.
There was a noise behind us. We each spun around to find nothing. Silence. My bag with all my money and other important documents had been right next the shop but now it was gone. I scanned the area again. I must have missed something, some clue. There were no tracks. No footprints. Just blood stained sand. And silence. Horrible, terrifying silence -

Broken by shrill screaming. She was no longer standing next to me. Someone or something thing had her and was taking her from me. There was nothing I could do. I ran after her watching the torment and fear in her eyes. Desperately she fought, clawing, kicking, anything to get free. My hand was outstretched reaching for her as she reached out for me.
My chest felt like it was going to explode but cave in all at the same time.

My own scream awoke me. I sat up in my bed out of breath, heart racing, tears in my eyes. Realizing it wasn't real, I turned to my left. She was trying to wake up and asked me what was wrong. She's safe. She's alive. I gave her a hug and held on to her as if never to let her go.

Girls

Much love to my girls, GracieLou, Eryka, and Moriah; my mini-girls Abigail and Charis, and honorable mention goes to Josh! Thanks for letting Moriah come out and play!


Randomness from Saturday:

Word Wand Word of the Day - Vestibule

Mispronunciation of this word drives us all nuts - salmon

Pretty-Pretty-Princess dresses look great on GracieLou!

Ugly fashions may be communicable and therefore after touching such travesties one must remember to wash one's hands with antibacterial soap for a minimum of 20 seconds with warm water.

There were several times we said, "We have to blog that," but now I seem to have forgotten what it was we were to blog...

Hmm... okay, that's it for now.

Two posts in one day! Holy Moley! What's going on! Don't worry... it won't happen that often.

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

Yes, I know. It's been far too long since my last post. I've been busy with life. My journals are usually paper and ink first. I have a load of them to enter. I'll do that in time. For now, I thought I'd post a little update and release some of the things in my head.

The past few weeks have been difficult. My father is ill. This is not a surprise to me but is to him and Mum. He's made some amazing changes and I'm so proud of him. I just wish he had been so determined earlier in his life when we were all begging him to take better care. I was instructed this evening to continue to focus on my studies and graduate as planned no matter what. This frightens me. What does that mean? It's a warning, an omen. He knows something that he's not sharing. I can feel it. Something is going to happen. He said even if he's hospitalized I may call and visit briefly but my mind must be focused on school. I agreed, reluctantly. He made me promise. I didn't want to but it's so important to him. I hate disappointing him and I'd really rather not go against him.

My mother called today from yet another hotel. It pains me to speak with her. The conversation is always one-sided. There's very little talk about me. I feel more like a therapist than a daughter. Over the weekend I bought a t-shirt at Old Navy for $5 (love that store sometimes!) that reads "I [heart] MOM." It most certainly wasn't with my biological mother in mind. When I realized that I wanted to show Mum rather than Ma it made me a little sad. As a very wise man has said to many times, "It is what it is."

That wise man has become quite important to me as of late. He's quite surprising. Often he knows what I'm thinking before I ever say a word. It's as if he sees inside me. Sometimes that's a bit unnerving but it's beginning to grow on me. I like having someone in my life that knows me so well. He keeps me in line and gives me those reality checks I so desperately need from time to time. There's so much I could say about him. I'm not even sure where to begin. I'll have to ponder that, write it out a bit, collect my thoughts and form them into something coherent.

Keep watching.

The Risk of Loving Your Friends

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." - Eleanor Roosevelt

"If you love something let it go free. If it doesn't come back, you never had it. If it comes back, love it forever." - Doug Horton

All these cute and wonderful aphorisms that often make my stomach churn... I'm learning their meaning. Unfortunately the hard way.

People come and go. I learned that early on in life. Nothing is constant. Though some truly want to, no one will always be there. It is just a fact of life. This sounds harsh and cold. I simply mean that sometimes when we truly need someone to intervene and pull us up no one is around. Not because they refuse but because we haven't made it clear we need their help.

The past few months have been very trying for me. School is heavier than ever and the end is near making me a bit anxious. I've had my share of "melt downs" and psychotic breaks. Dips and valleys. I've learned to grow from the tough times, though. I'm never as low as I once was. When I can, I share what I've learned with others. I know that I can't keep others from making the same mistakes I've made. We must all make our own mistakes and learn from them. But if I can help in some small way then I'll try.

For the most part I am open and honest about my past. I don't necessarily offer up all the information immediately as some may find it more distressing than helpful. I take it on an case-by-case basis. With a couple friends in particular, I've been exceedingly open and honest as my story is quite similar to theirs. I do not share my pain with them as an attempt to win some sort of pity contest. "My life was worse than yours." That sickens me. It's not a contest. Besides, who wants to win? And what exactly are we winning anyway? Ridiculous. My intent is to express how well I know the pain they are going through. I've been down this road many times. I just want to be there to help guide them out of the darkness. I can't make the journey for them. I can't carry their burdens for them but I can help.


"We can't save them all."
"I know. But I at least want to save the ones close to me."
"The truth of the matter is that ultimately we can't save anyone. We can only save ourselves. It sucks but those are the rules."
"I don't like the rules."
No matter how much I offer of myself, it's still up to them.

So what precipitated all this? A dear friend, one that I've had a bit of a rocky relationship with, isn't doing so well. I hadn't spoken to her in months. Every time she's in town we seem to miss each other. Sometimes I'm certain she's blowing me off. Eventually I quit trying to make plans. It was becoming increasingly difficult to be a true friend with her. Since the beginning of our friendship, ages ago, she's always been a bit of a pain, making things difficult. I remember countless times she'd be furious with me; yelling at me that we'd never speak again. Time would pass and she'd cool off and, still, I'd be right there. I don't leave. So this was our relationship. To suddenly have an email from her to my work account was odd. But not terribly. She was a bit forgetful. I opened the message after looking through the work related things. I read the words. Their meanings flooded my mind. I was drowing. Nothing made sense. I opened up my browser and searched for her name and the words, "car accident." And there on the screen in front of me were the photos of the wreck. A mangled truck. The broken baracade slabs from the roof of the parking garage. Police. Firemen. Jaws of Life. I scanned the articles. No tread marks. She never applied the brakes.

Completely numb. Empty and aching. Suddenly I felt my stomach twist and I ran to the bathroom. Just bolted. Told no one. Just ran. Head hanging over the toilet staring at my reflection in the water images of her contorted body strapped to a stretcher flashed before me. Every emotion I've ever known hit me at once. Anger, sadness, guilt, relief, rage, pity, confusion, hurt. It was as if each one picked up a bat and struck my belly repeatedly.

I washed my face and rinsed my mouth. My mirror image told me to calm down. My feelings were natural. But I couldn't calm down. I shut down instead. Numbly, I walked back to my office and grabbed my glasses and notebook. 2 o'clock. Meeting. I sat at the table with my coworkers. Not smiling. Not frowning. Just there. I stated my piece on the first topic. I addressed the issues and satisified the requirements for my job. Then I sat there. I didn't even pretend to listen. I just sat. Nothing else mattered. Quite frankly, we cover the same things every meeting. Not much changes. I'm a peon. I do what I'm told.

I spent the rest of the afternoon blindly walking through as if on autopilot. Even my autopilot was failing. My attempt to be "fine" wasn't working and I was sent to psych services. I didn't want to go but I knew I couldn't do it on my own. I broke down. I cried. I sobbed. And I got angry. I hate anger. I never know what to do with it. This time I didn't stuff it down inside. I let it out. I screamed. "Don't you dare leave me!" "How could you be selfish?" "I love you!" I cried. I did all the things I usually never do. And I felt better. Not great. But better.

I called home to be sure Mum would be there to greet me. I gave her a brief idea of my problem. After parking the car, I coaxed myself out of the car.

"Just open the door."
"Just get out."
"Just close the door."
"Just up the stairs."
"Just open the door."
"Almost there."
"Walk in."

Mum's voice greeted me. Samson stood atop the stairs, tail wagging, as if he hadn't seen me in ages. I slowly made my way up the stairs, suddenly feeling so very tired. I wanted to collapse right there. She told me to get settled and she'd be in to check on me. The hallway never seemed so long. I finally made it to my room and dropped everything. I sat on the edge of my bed and felt everything in me give way. Mum pulled the blankets over my crumpled body and kissed my forehead.

Sleep did not come easily. I begged for even the slightest drowsy feeling. But nothing. My head rested awkwardly on a pillow. I felt nothing. Sleep would take it all away. I wouldn't feel the nothingness anymore. It would just be rest. My mind was empty but in the background, as if behind a curtain, it was buzzing with a million thoughts. I strained to hear them. I closed my eyes trying to focus but still heard nothing. Finally taking pity on me, Sleep wrapped around me, soothing my chafed soul. My sleep was dreamless. At least as far as I can remember.

And now it's getting late. I feel like I can stand. The ground is firm beneath me. I'm a bit off balance but I'll manage. Like so many other bad days, I'll end this one in the shower. My haven. My safe place. Make me new.

It Isn't Him

Eyes closed. Anxiety tightening my chest. A slow breath.
Anticipation twisting in my stomach. Warmth brushes past my cheek wrapping around my neck and gently drawing me forth. Pulse racing. Heart pounding. Soft but firm. Pressed against mine. Gentle but purposeful.
This is what he wants. Me.Melting into him, my shoulder relaxes and my arms wrap around him. This is not the time to be thinking of someone else. But I am. What is he doing right now? Would he kiss me like this? Would he hold me just like this?
I bolt up and take a deep ragged breath as my hands rush to my head as if to force the thoughts away.
Not now. It isn't right.

Letting Go

I got report and went into his room to do my assessment. Numerous IV lines ran into his arm and central line. A nasogastric feeding tube was tangled amongst the IV tubing. The tape for his endotracheal tube was crusted over with blood and secretions. His hair was matted to his head. There was so little life in him.

I spoke to him. No response. I touched his arm feeling the heat beneath my fingers. His fever was down but still too high. His arms and legs were so swollen my fingers left an indintation. "+3 pitting edema bilaterally upper and lower extremities," I charted. There was no conversation. Just my voice explaining what I was doing. "We need to reposition you, Bill*" All the while I wondered if he could hear me. Was he lost in a dream? Was he already gone?

Gently I pulled an eyelid open and flashed the pen light in his eyes. Brisk pupil reaction with a flutter. That's something new. The only explanation I could find was sedation or possible illegal drug use. I completed my assessment and scanned the chart. I searched for answers that I knew I would not find. One single family member in the city. No family history. Not much medical history. He arrived in the Emergency Department and quickly crashed. They never had time to get much history. No one really knew anything about him. He was just a man that had lived his life in accordance with his own will. Overindulgence of all that made him happy. But was he really happy? High fat, alcohol, and illegal substances... They don't really make anyone happy. They dull the pain. People hide behind them in an effort to escape reality. But reality cannot be avoided forever. Reality had a tight grip on Bill. The reality is, he will most likely not come off the ventilator. He will never really breathe on his own. He will not open his eyes and see. He will not speak.

An hour later I returned to his room to record vitals. I stood there staring at him for a moment. His eyes opened slightly. "Bill? Can you hear me?" No response. "Bill, can you see me?" He blinked. I touched his hand lightly and leaned a little closer to his face. "Bill?" He closed his eyes. The nurse walked in and crushed my hopes. "He's not there." She made an adjustment to the monitor and walked out. I stood there for a moment watching the ventilator breathe for him. Automatically my fingers curled around his hand and my thumb began stroking his hand. Perhaps he was a man that made many poor decisions in his life. Perhaps he had nothing to show for his 50 years of life. But he still has a life. There's still time to change, to make ammends. I wanted to will him back. I wanted him to open his eyes and look at me.

The loud beeping of the IV pump jerked me back to reality. His levophed drip was up. Pharmacy still hadn't sent the next bag up. I silenced the pump and left the room.

While the nurse was yelling at pharmacy, I sat reading through his chart. Looking for answers again. Looking for a glimpse into his life. Looking for a reason to have it all make sense. My eyes scanned over everything... Septic shock... alcoholic... possible acute MI.... fatty liver... elevated platelets... decreased albumin.... cultures negative... no family... no social history...
There was nothing. No answers. Some will say he did this to himself. He made the choices. That doesn't mean we shouldn't treat him. That doesn't mean he isn't worth saving.

We can't save them all. We are not God. I know this. I've seen death. I've watched people slip away, their chests still. There's no silence quite like that of death. For some reason, this case was different. I left the unit feeling cold and empty.

My body was set to autopilot. I just followed the others. The fake me took over. I made simple conversation. On the drive home I realised what it was. He's alone. He has no one. There's no one calling to check on him. No one visiting. No one wondering where he is. No one waiting for him. No one worrying for him. When he passes no one will cry. No one will grieve for him. He will pass away silently and that will be all. The room he's occupied for two weeks will then be empty, cleaned of his presence. He will be a memory quickly forgotten. A life unnoticed.

And there's nothing I can do. I cannot save him. I cannot bring him back. All his memories will die with him. No one will know the things he's seen or done. All I can do is reposition him and hope he's not in pain. Let it be painless. Let it be quick.



*Name changed to protect his identity, though no one knows him.

Runner

I should be a runner. The sound of my soles hitting the pavement. The pounding of my heart with each stride. Panting. Feeling the burn in my muscles as I push on. Further. Sweat dripping. More distance. I could be a great runner.

Everything seems to disappear. The world blends into itself leaving me and the pavement. One quick step after another. I don't have to think. It's just running. I don't have to plan. Run. It doesn't matter where I go. One more step. Further from where I was. Never looking back. Always forward.

It's not a date

Seriously. It's hanging out. Yes, he's a boy and I'm a girl but we can still be friends. There's nothing wrong with being friends.

He's nice. I know. "Nice" is like the kiss of death for a guy. That's not what I mean. I don't honestly know where this will go. I'm just enjoying our friendship right now. We have so much in common. He's a paramedic that lives nearby. His taste in music is as ecclectic as my own. What's really great is that we can share medical stories, keeping with HIPAA of course, as well as discuss odd little things about everything. And of course, my favorite show as of late, Grey's Anatomy! How cool is that?!

I've seen a lot of him lately. We're both fans of texting. We do that a bit. But we're not dating. Just friends.

We're planning a trip to the Museum of Science and Industry to see Body Worlds 2. I'm excited. I can't wait to see the next one. He missed the first one so I tried to fill him in on it a bit.

So, I'm happy. I'm single. I'm doing well. This is strange for me. I haven't a clue. I'm just kind of wandering around looking at everything in front of me. Life is full of surprises, twists and turns, dips and dives. I guess the best thing to do is just strap in and hang on. Afterall, it's not the destination as much as it is the journey.

Is that a compliment?

We're driving silently along in the cold dark of the night. The kids are are whispering in the back. Something's coming. I can feel it.

"Auntie Mandy?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Um, you look like Chewbacca with glasses!"

Both explode in a fit of giggles.

Change

I changed my template. I think I like this one much better. It's a better feel. Pink isn't me. Red maybe. Pink, not so much.

Random, nonsensical stuff:

• I love dictionary.com
• My plant, Hyakinthos, is doing really well. So well in fact, that I don't know how to get it out of the planter thingy it's in to put it in soil.
• I wish I knew how to add video to my blog.
• Sneaked is in the dictionary. I thought it was snuck but I guess both are right.
• Crystal Light packets aren't so bad.
• MySpace is proving to be addictive.
• My court case was dismissed. (ticket for expired plates)
• The cop was, indeed, very hot. But I didn't say anything to him.
• People watching in a court room is uber interesting.
• Uber is a fun word
• Sometimes I think I have atrial flutter.

And that's all the time we have for today. Tune in again for some random ramblings from my muddled mind.

A Step Back

You may have noticed, or not, that I've been in a bit of a rotten mood lately. I do apologize. I never intended to take my frustrations out on anyone in particular. It isn't fair or kind of me.

Something has changed. Well, I suppose it hasn't really changed. It's simply that I've finally realized what I was really facing. Sometimes standing too close to a situation makes everything blurry and unclear. I took a step back. What I saw didn't really surprise me. Somehow I knew what I was going to see. After all, I'm not as dumb as I look. Finally seeing this situation for what it really is made a difference. And now I feel a little lost. The path I thought I was following turns out to be nothing more than a dead ended trail. The scenery was nice but left me feeling unfulfilled.

Something just feels amiss now. Where once I had an almost overpowering ambition, I now feel listless. All I want is to immerse myself in school work because then there will be no time to think of anything else. The pain and emptiness will be gone. I won't realize I'm missing anything because I'll be too busy to notice.

That isn't the answer though. The answer is to work through it. A friend, one that is quickly becoming very dear to me, once wrote that "emotions are neither good nor bad; they simply are." I find this to be very accurate. Sometimes I wonder if he has any clue how wonderfully wise he is. The point is that I need to recognize my feelings, accept them, and move on. Spoken like a true psych patient, no? I know this is what I need to do. I just haven't the motivation to quite get there yet. I will. I just need a bit of time.

Stupid Germs! Rotten Timing!

I'm sick. Again. It never seems to fail. I thought I had escaped being ill during clinicals. Alas, I was horribly wrong. For the first time in my life I found myself praying for strep throat. Of course, just my luck, it's just a virus. Time in combination with plenty of fluids and a few pills and syrup to treat the symptoms will make it all better.

Basic functions are proving to be near impossible. My nose is constantly stuffy. Swallowing a sip of water feels like shards of glass going down my throat. At night and early morning my fever tends to spike somewhere around 102 degrees Fahrenheit. If you'd like your martini shaken, hand it to me for my chills will do a fine job of mixing your drink.

I'm convinced I'm going to die early in my life. Every year I find myself constantly sick. How will I ever be a nurse if I can't stay well enough to take proper care of my patients? I know what the doctor will tell me. He'll say my tonsils need to be removed and the sore throats will go away. That's great. Fine and dandy. Then the infections will simply take up residency in my chest and I'll simply die of pneumonia. I suppose there are worse ways to go.

Yes, I'm slightly cranky. Again. My apologies to any poor soul reading this.

On the brighter side, I went out with some friends to a club on Saturday for a birthday celebration. One friend left early and the other, the birthday girl, and I danced the night away. Well, perhaps we did more drinking than dancing. It was a wonderful evening. However, I've learned not to go out drinking and dancing with siblings. It just doesn't seem to turn out well. I suppose had my alcohol intake been slightly less the evening would have ended better. No sense in dwelling on the past. Anyway, the whole point of this rambling is that I took a risk and gave a man my number. I didn't actually think he'd call me. He did give me his card. It put it in a place where it would be rather difficult to lose. He told me he'd call me on Monday. When Monday came and went without hearing from him I assumed it was over. Nothing would come of it. Not that I had been holding my breath. Tuesday afternoon as I was watching a movie with one of the girls, my phone range. I don't usually answer calls from numbers I don't recognize but it was a familiar area code so I took a chance. It was him. My heart stopped and jumped into my throat. I could barely speak. I felt like a high school girl. How absurd, no? I politely asked him to hold while my friend and I scrambled to pause the movie and giggle. Lord, I hope he didn't hear the giggling! We talked briefly. He knew I didn't think he was going to call. He asked me why. I didn't have a reason. I just didn't think he would. I was so thrilled he had! After a bit of small talk and clearing up a few minor details (I seem to give out false information unintentionally while intoxicated) he asked me when he could see me. That's right! He asked me on a date! I didn't have my blasted schedule near me so I couldn't set a date but it will be decided in the near future, as in tomorrow or Friday. Provided I'm well enough for a phone conversation. Damn virus!

Off to prepare for an exam and take my next dose of medications.

$#^%^&*$##@@*(&**#!!

I'm cranky and tired. Just a warning.

Yesterday was a drag. I had a long and very exhausting day at work. I continually feel like I'm under constant surveillance, my every move and decision scrutinized. A friend called and asked me to meet her for dinner. I had two hours until we were to meet. Every time I looked at the computer screen I felt my eyes well and burn. Enough. I left the rest of the data entry and paperwork for the next day.

I had no idea what to do or where to go. I wasn't in the mood to shop. I considered stopping by Starbucks or something for a drink but I didn't feel like dealing with people. I wound up at the craft store browsing for some beads so I could finish some earrings for a friend. As I walked through the store, looking at everything in each aisle to pass the time, I received a phone call from my most recent ex. The conversation was mainly focused on the last of my things. I want them back this weekend. He didn't think he'd have time. It was horrible. I feel like I'm going through a divorce without all lawyers and paperwork. I hate to admit it but I broke down crying in the middle of the craft store. I must have looked like a mentally unstable psych patient wandering the store. People stared but I didn't care. I was just so frustrated with the whole situation. Finally the conversation was a little more friendly and we came to an agreement.

I left the craft store and drove over to the bookstore. Browsed. Found nothing to keep my interest except a man sitting in the corner reading Whitman. His brow was slightly furrowed and I could tell he was chewing the inside of his cheek. I don't know why but I really just enjoyed watching him read. He seemed absolutely oblivious to everything around him. Perfectly content in those pages.

My phone began buzzing and I nearly fell over trying to answer the phone. It's a gift I have, being a klutz. My friend was across the street waiting for me. I paid for a pocket journal and met her for dinner.

On the way home, I called a friend. I know I shouldn't drive and phone people but I did. About three minutes away from my house, red and blue lights flashed in my rearview mirror. A mirad of swear words and I hung up the phone and pulled over to the side. I pulled my license out and rolled down my window. That was dumb. I should have waited for the officer to get out of the car. It was cold. He came over to the window, shined the light in my face. I think they must have special flashlights that are just brighter than anything else. It felt like I was looking into the sun. I tried not to squint but I felt my face automatically contort anyway. The officer leaned down and lowered the light a bit, much to my relief. He was very polite and not the "badass" some of them pretend to be. My license plate tags were expired. He asked for my license and wondered if I had moved. Why, yes, yes I did move... He checked my insurance card and then disappeared with my license. And I sat there for what felt like ages. An unmarked police car pulled up on the median and waited, watching. I wondered if I seemed like a threat. I'm a little chubby white girl. Where's the threat in that? The officer returned, sans license, ticket in had. He explained I had to appear in court on the 26th of this month with the license plate tag. I know I deserve the ticket but I just wanted my license back. I feel naked without it! He was so nice and polite I thought he might apologize for writing the ticket. He sent me on my way. I rejoined the bustling traffic. When I walked in the door finally I just wanted to hide in bed. It had been one of those days that wasn't exactly catastrophic or traumatic, just extremely trying. Like a constant dull headache.

I called the person that always seems to make me feel better no matter what but he was asleep. Oddly enough, another friend, a new friend, came to my rescue. I vented my frustrations and he listened. When I was all done he consoled me and offered words of advice. He sorted through each mess and helped me see it wasn't so bad. Everything could be fixed.

Life is so surprising sometimes. I love it and loathe it at the same time. Thank goodness for friends!

Et tu, Brute?

About a year and a half ago I had a rough experience with a "friend." This is what I wrote.

"I sat here contemplating life today. I do that more and more lately. My life has never been so clear and so complicated all at the same time. So many choices lie ahead of me, each more difficult than the previous. I'm finally finding meaning in all the horrible things I been through. I've found a purpose for my life. I'm stronger than I've ever been before but just as vulnerable.
I thought I really found someone I connected with but I was wrong. I keep saying that I'm tired of the heartache and pain only to fall into the same trap again. I gave someone a glimpse of my tormented mind only to be laughed at and ridiculed. I felt so utterly foolish. The friend and confidant I saw before me was nothing more than a Trojan horse. I simply walked away with my head down. At first my mind was void of any thought. Suddenly a thousand words came to mind like a torrential rainfall. I held my tongue. It was the most civil thing I could have done. I do believe in being honest with people but I don't believe in saying anything to intentionally hurt them.

What makes people so narrow-minded and self-centered? How is it that so many people wander the planet without a clue as to there effects on those around them? Perhaps it is because they simply do not care. I cannot believe that. Not of such a large group. I've shared so much with this person and to find that my most intimate thoughts, ideas, fears, etc. have been entrusted to such a fiend... I feel hollow.

This only strengthens my belief that evil is most successful disguised as a non-threat, the ones you least expect. Sugar and spice, warm fuzzies, rainbows, and flowers all laced with carcinogens and various other toxins.

I refuse to let one more person taint me. I refuse to let one more person have such a negative impact on my life. There is good out there. There is someone that really cares. There is someone that will listen. It's just that it's not the one I thought it was. Live and Learn..."

I seem to have come across another person that fits this discription above. This time, though, I was a little more cautious. I didn't let him in as far as I had let the other person. I learned a lesson and it prepared me for people like him. He tells me all sorts of wonderful things. He praises me in little ways because he knows that's what I like best. Moments later he's ridiculing me and falsely accusing me of lies. His claims are unfounded and seem to be from "left field" as it were.

What bothers me most, what really confounds me, is his preaching. I don't claim to be a good Catholic. I'm not. I quite frankly suck. But I have my faith. I have a relationship with God that I'm comfortable with. I don't feel the need to go to church or confess my sins to a priest. But I know that I'm not a horrible person. I do try to live my life right and well. I may not live by the Ten Commandments, per se. I don't force my views on someone else either. I'm not a against having a good theological conversation. In fact, I'm quite in favor of it! Anyway, it bothers me that people that preach about being a good Christian can, in the same breath, judge me while looking down their noses at me. It's times like that I wish I could hold up a mirror. What is it with people? I know we all have our flaws. We are human. I get that. I am aware of many of my own flaws. I guess it seems to me that people that study the Bible and strive to be in tune with God would be a little more forgiving. Am I crazy? Am I missing something? Perhaps I'm just a little too idealistic.

**Sigh**

To Begin

I've started my blog. My real blog. Funny. It's just a blog. No big deal. All my secret inner thoughts exposed to the world. What's the risk in that?

**gasping for air**


Where do I begin?

Hello. I'm Mandalina. Welcome to my blog. I think this shall be my thinking spot. A little place I go to let out my frustrations and triumphs.


I did something today. Well, I did a few things today. But the one thing I'm really pleased with took courage, I suppose. I brought up a topic I didn't really want to broach. I was afraid of what the response would be. I had my idea of how I wanted it to go. I tend to have a vivid imagination and my subconscious torments me in my sleep. I've been having really strange and disturbing dreams lately. Finally I decided to just say what's been weighing heavily on me. And surprisingly, once I started talking it was easy. The words, the right words even, just flowed. And when I had finished, the response was favorable! It was a good day.