Visiting the Shack

Some ladies at a Twelve Step meeting that I attend recommended that I read that book "The Shack".  I had seen this book being carried around by various people for the past couple of years or so.  I was curious about it but never bothered to pick it up.  What could this book possibly have in it for me? I often thought.  Well, I know now.

I never bothered to pick it up because I was afraid of what was in it.  I thought that the story would be boring.  That whatever lesson that I could glean from it would be too broad for me to relate to.  I was so off base.  Having recently read the book I realize that even though the story is about a guy who loses his daughter to a serial killer...a white guy.  This book could have been about me  All the writer would have had to do was replace my name  and circumstances with the guy in the book.  It would have fit me perfectly.

I've heard people say that it is a good book.  The Shack is more than a good book, it is a poignant lesson in how God works in our lives and how through Jesus' grace and the holy spirit, we can come through anything.  How vital forgiveness is in our own redemption as well as the redemption of those we disdain.

I love The Shack and I will read it again.  It has reinforced my love for God and the fact that He loves me.  It has also helped to renew my faith and not fear uncertainty.  As Jesus states in the book at one point, Faith and certainty do not live in the same house.  I would recommend this book to anyone, whether they are going through trials and tribulations or not. 
It is a quick read.  But, it is not a quick study.

Silence Is Invisible

I've experienced harassment at the hands of my boss for the past three months.  I have to work tomorrow and am a little afraid of what will come up.  My boss is confident that I won't say anything about it...I'm sure.  That's the purpose of harassment to emotionally beat someone into submission so that they will be too afraid to say anything.  I'm afraid, but I still plan to speak up.  I have to give myself time though.

I have had to examine my motives and look at what good I think can come out of speaking up.  I've come up with a couple of things.  I think that this will be good for me to see that taking up for yourself is a process.  You have to think that you are worth the effort.  I hope to clear my record of the lies that my boss has so freely stacked my file with as well as preserve or protect my confidentiality.  I also, hope that it will improve patient care on the unit that I work on.  And I hope to prevent this from happening to anyone else.

I am still somewhat traumatized by the events of the last few weeks.  I get a headache when I think of how sick the people who think they run this unit are.  It also makes me nauseated to think that this place would even consider itself worthy of Magnet status with the way that it treats it's nurses.

I couldn't really blog about this because I was so upset initially that I was incoherent when I started to talk abou the events that have occurred these past few weeks.  In almost thirty years of nursing I have never experienced such blatantly horrible treatment as I have with this lady.  I'm lying...this has been my nursing career in the state of Georgia.

Being an African American nurse with a knowledge base equivalent to that of some MD's people seem to resent that I know things that I know.  I wonder if I were white, would it be any different.  I try to use my knowledge base for the good of other people.  I don't try to impose what I know on anyone else.  Isn't nursing about using knowledge to help others?

I am still a little incredulous at what I've been going through.  But, I think that I need to give creedence to my experience and accept it in order to come to terms with it .  I also need a resolution to the issue.  As much as I'd like to walk away from this pile of mess, I'd don't think it's a good idea.  To be silent is to participate in the sickness.  To be silent is to be invisible.

What Color Is Silence Again?

Still facing challenges at work.  I am still being harassed and treated unfairly and lied on by my boss.  I am still upset.  But calmer than I was yesterday...or all weekend for that matter.  It's really sad how black people treat each other.  We are a clueless group.

Anyway, I've been trying to make a decision as to whether I should go after my boss or just retreat.  I am going to go after her but, I have to do it with love in my heart.  What a challenge...  My love waxes and wanes.  I wish I could maintain it but I can't.  I don't want to make any desparate or sudden moves.  I don't want to damage myself.  I don't want to react.  She is a witch.  Probably the worst director I've ever encountered.  I would hate her if it didn't compromise my love for myself.

I sit in the counselors office, I have been referred to at work.  I worked last night and I'm exhausted. I try to read a book that I have on had but to no avail.  My eyelids are just too heavy.  The name of the book is the time paradox.  It's about how we perceive and use time.  I am only a few pages in.  Can't wait to get to the good parts.  The counselor at the employee assistance program comes out to get me.

I'm not angry at my boss for referring me there.  I am angry at her for trying to use the referral against me.  She is an idiot and I really don't think she knows what she has done.  But, that's okay.  I'll just let her go head and do what she is doing.  I hope one day, she has to deal with what I'm dealing with so she can see how it is.  The counselor entreated me to love.  Love?  I have to access my energy...to love.  Or maybe she has ...who knows?

One of my coworkers told me that I have problems at work because my intelligence level and my analytical skills far exceed my education level.  He said that it baffles people and makes them jealous.  I can't help it.  I tried to act stupid but people always see through fabricated idiocy.  I'm trying

So Surreal.

My experiences at work for the last few weeks have been surreal.  In some ways I feel like a baby in the womb, large...but no where near time to be born.  I twist and turn in this environment of mine...naked and unknown.  wondering daily who I am here...now because, in no way am I familiar with the person that I was last week yesterday, minutes or even seconds ago.  Transition...change.  Call it what you will.  I am having difficulty processing the events that so change my point of reference...that I am constantly wondering...who I am and how I arrived at the point that I stand at now. 

My tendency in a crisis is to emotionally fade to black in an effor to ignore the unpleasantness that is coursing through my very being.  It numbs me and allows me to block out the circumstances that threaten to obliterate my very existence.  I feel ignored and insignificant in the face of someone else's abuse.  Running from my demons in an effort to save myself.

I have chosen to stand and fight.  I have stood and fought in the past but only when my circumstances have so severely overtaken me that it is impossible for me to ignore them or escape them any longer.  By then, I am so angry that I cannot do anything but retaliate...but I have never really learned to defend myself. Not really.

I often at these time lashing out furiously, rationally but as brutally as my attacker.  Only when I have again resumed a safe distance do I stop. Then, I run...again.

My actions are usually out of a desparation, a fear that I would be hard pressed to describe.  The unpleasant feelings of shame and guilt of existing to be a target are overwhelming.  Then, the feelings cycle to anger at the person who has assaulted me and then fear as to what they might do next.  My goal is always to just stop that assault at the time, for that time...so that I can keep my attacker at bay long enough to escape to emotional safety. I run.

The cycle then continues.

My work situation has come to this.  I have experienced this over and over again at work, at home...wherever I go.  I'm tired of it.  I'm angry about it.  It needs to stop, it will stop. I have had enough.  I am functioning in a fog.  It is difficult to function this way. But, I will keep moving.

My goal is to take responsibility for what is mine and not allow others to heap their emotional garbage on me.  I am so tired of this.  It never occurred to me how sick people are,especially my boss, until now.  I'm having a hard time believing what I have seen and experienced from her and her minions within the past month or so. 

But, I need to see.  I want to see. I have to see so that I can continue with my work.

The emotional pain I feel concerning the things going on at work are gut wrenching and hard to sort out. I have been violated to an extent that I have never experienced in my 29 years of work.  It brings to light so many questions in my head about how someone can work in a field that requires compassion and have no sense of compassion at all.  Or just feel that the rules don't apply to them because they hold a position of power.

I think that what is most difficult about this whole situation is the lies that we tell ourselves in order to keep our lives quiet and orderly.  To maintain a  "quasi-peaceful" and waveless existance.  What is most compelling is the parts of ourselves that we sacrifice to promote and protect lies that harm others, as long as they don't seem to bother us.

I'm sad.

Off Track

The late, great Scott M. Peck understated it when he wrote, "life is difficult".  A more accurate assessment is that life is a bitch and hard as hell. 

I'm tired today.  I have been tired everyday.  It is a struggle not to run into the sea and keep running. (I suppose at some point I'd have to start swimming if I want to continue to breath).  I had some idea a while ago that life was supposed to be a playground.  That we are supposed to be able to do what we want, when we want and run and laugh and have fun everyday of our lives.  I never considered the miserable bullies who come over to you while you are happily playing in your sand box and kick sand in your face.  Nor, did I ever consider the ones that come over to the swing and demand that you get off so that they can get on.

Not only do they exist for children, but also for adults.  Bullies exist at work.  They work to suck all of the joy out of you that they can so that they can be the muscle men on the beach.  Every so often, they underestimate the 90 lb weakling.

Work is more work than it's worth.  I want to walk away from there and keep going.  People just have no clue what life is about.  It seems that people choose to spend the majority of their lives outside of themselves, in other peoples business and trying to control those things that they have no right or the ability to control. While their lives spiral out of control

It's not only them, but it 's me too. I've been off track for the past few months.  I think that's what makes things so hard.  If I could just ignore all the crap going on around me and keep moving...maybe.  Then maybe that's not what I'm supposed to do. I think that I'm supposed to be gleaning some type of knowledge and strength from this...but it's coming very slowly, if at all.

My situation at work with my bullying boss has got to come to a head somewhere.  I'm still traumatized by the events of two weeks ago when she called me and told me not to come to work unless I called her.  She had received some complaints from my coworkers and decided that they were true.  When I talked to her and asked her why she did this, she said because she wanted me to call her back. Then, she demanded that I write a rebuttal to the accusations and initally refused to give them to me in writing.  I insisted, she conceded and I wrote. 

I'm still angry.
How can you be the nursing director on an oncology floor and  have such a primitive mentality? To put it mildly.  I'm still reeling from the fact that she actually had the nerve to leave this on my voicemail.  I'm trying my best to let this go.  I fully understand why things remain the mess that they remain on the floor that I work on. My thought process needs to move on.

This is why I haven't blogged for a while.
I think it's funny when people apologize in their blog for not blogging for a couple of weeks, a month...or two.  It's like they think that all people have to do is sit around and read their blog.  I make no such apology.  Life happens and sometimes it interferes with your ability to blog. But, I really miss blogging.

I love blogging!!! I don't know why...I just love it!!!

I sit in Barnes and Nobles listening to songs by Tony Bennett.  Somehow, it is the most comforting and soothing music that I could listen to right now.  It brings back memories and reminds me of my Mommy.  New York, New York is playing now.  I've always loved this song... Especially when they get to the end and it slows down.  I just picture me in the middle of a long line of Rockettes kicking my legs!!!
I was kinda off track before the events at work occurred.  Now, I'm really of track.  This thing at work has taken me far out of the way.  I'm trying to get back there, but the more I seek to get back on track, the harder it seems to get back to where I was.  Maybe I'm not supposed to go back where I was.  Maybe I'm supposed to forge a new path.  That is something to think about!

I'm definately grieving the old scenery.




 

Anger

Been real tense lately.  Hypervigilant.  Not wanting to sleep.  That anger.  It just sneaks up on me from nowhere sometimes and pops out at the weirdest times.  When it gains extreme momentum...I just can't stop it.  I can hold it in...but it's still there.  It makes me lash out at people, places and things that have nothing to do with it.

It makes me want to stay alone and isolate.

My sister was depressed last week and wouldn't talk to me.  So, I got mad.  I got mad...and I don't know what I was mad at. I think I was mad because she was mad.  And so...the story goes on. 

When I was a little girl...about 5 or 6 or 7 or 8, my mother would walk around the house sometimes silent.  She wouldn't say a word...not to me. I would ask her what was wrong because I'd wonder wether I had done something to make her mad at me. She was probably mad at my father but, I didn't know that.  I would feel very guilty.  Like I had done something and she just wouldn't tell me. 

So, when my sister wouldn't talk to me, I felt the same way.  It just ruined my whole week.  Every feeling that I'd ever had when I was a little girl came back.  I was so depressed.  Then, I became hypervigilant. Like every little noise that you hear dilates your pupils and pricks your ears.  I'm still hypervigilant, finding it extremely hard to rest.  It could be from eating too much rice too since I'm borderline diabetic.  But, I'm tired...really tired. 

So, how do I get myself out of this quasi-manic state?  I don't know.  My sister called me today to borrow some money.

I almost felt better because she was talking to me.  She gave me this speech about how she wasn't asking for money because she was watching my syon her nephew for me.  I know that this is true because she watched him for me before, when she was working and she never asked me for a dime.  But, I can't help wonder if she didn't call me just because she needed money.

Hm?

Getting Beyond Now

Some days, I wake up feeling frozen in time.  It's not exhaustion.  It is anxiety and fear.  The drudgery of routine just weighs me down.  I drink coffee sometimes to break the monotony...it doesn't always work.  Some types of coffee make me nervous and jittery and crabby.  If I get a certain type of cappucino, it calms me but, I have to put a lot of cream in it.

Work is overwhelming because of all the extra stuff I have to do.  Going to classes, and things like that.  They think that because they pay you for the extra time that it's alright...they have no consideration for the fact that you have family and a life outside of work.  I'm tired...all of the time.

I babysit two little boys after school, along with my ten year old son.  I feel confined some days.  I have to wait for their mom to come and pick them up and that is tiring.  I can't go anywhere or do anything.  I don't feel like I made a mistake by taking them on, I enjoy watching them play...the little one's antics.  I can't blame them for the way that I feel.

I am just tired. 

How can I make my life better? 

What would make me happy for the long term...living near the beach.   If I had someone to help me raise my son, that would be helpful.

I am still a little dismayed by the lack of support that I have from my family.  But, I'm getting over it.  I need to do what I have to do.  My sister that begged me to stay in Georgia when I had resolved to leave has once again turned her back on me emotionally.  She keeps my son on the weekend but, when I took him over there last weekend she wasn't speaking to me.

I'm not staying here too much longer... At the end of the school year, I'm outta here. Maybe before then.  I am stressed and I just don't think that it's healthy to be under this much stress for this long. I'm too old for this.
Anyway.

My daughter was an extra on The Vampire Diaries last night.  I saw her and was absolutely fascinated.  I don't know why.  I couldn't see her face but, I could see her.  She was fascinated too.
It was fun trying to spot her.  My young son saw her right off the bat. 

I need a cup of coffee.  I feel very weak from trying to kick the habit cold turkey...COLD TURKEY.

I'm  a writer DAMMIT!  Writers are entitled to drink coffee...Aren't they?

Enough rambling...on to my journal.

Family Matters

On the days that I am able to see my relationship with my family for what it is, it doesn't hurt that much anymore.  I don't feel like the wounded little puppy dog, left in the kennel while all the other little puppy dogs are let out to wander and romp freely.  If I'm sequestered from the other dogs, it's because I don't want to be with them.

For the longest, I wanted to change because I was convinced that if I were to become a better person, my family would change.  They have, a little, but I remain the outcast amongst my brothers and sisters.  It used to make me feel sad, lonely and weird.  I don't feel like that anymore.  I can cast aside my expectations of my family and ignore their demands of me.   What a wonderful freeing proposition.

I used to make myself disappear to make them miss me and yearn for my presence.  To punish them and make them beg me to come back.

But, the never did.  I always decided when i would return on my after I would convince myself that they had missed me enough to treat me well.  They never missed me that much and I seem to still be that anomaly that they don't want around. This was:
  Apparent when we had the fourth of july barbecue and I struggled to get to where they were. 
  Apparent when we were headed to boston and eldest sister and wouldn't answer my phone calls.
  Apparent when Debbie threw her party in Martha's Vineyard after telling me that she wasn't having it.

It took me the longest time to get the message.  Like the time mother invited her sister and brother in law and Nana and her sister over for dinner and told me it was at 4pm and was clearing the table when I arrived. I was so upset.

I used to think that actions like this were just incidental...but they kept occurring over and over and over.

When I used to make myself scarce, it was because I didn't feel like my family wanted me around. But my family members always asked why I didn't show up at family events and wanted to know what happened and where I was.  I must've gotten some subtle cues when I was younger that I wasn't really welcome at family gatherings.  I never felt comfortable there.

My older relatives never knew who I was, or remembered my name.  Although, the four older siblings were easily identified.  I found myself introducing myself over and over again to people who had no idea who I was an was forced to hug and kiss on the cheek.  I kinda resented this.  I thought that as I got older that it would change.  It didn't.  Not really.


As i've grown up, I realized that my siblings don't like having me around. Even though I'm less likely to argue and cause a rucus...or debate or whatever.   Iwas considered the trouble maker in the family because I had a tendency to tell the truth the way that I saw it.  My opinions were often different from my family and I was not likely to nod my head in agreement with any old thi they ng. Anyway... I don't necessarily want to be around my family...I love them.  My relationship with my family members is not healthy...never has been.  I couldn't accept this before.

I can accept this now.

I'm Not Done Yet

I was trying to close this blog.  Apparently, Blogger is not ready to open another blog for me so I'm blogging on my first love here today and now.  For now.  I feel really alive when I blog.  Call it weird or whatever...that's the way it is.  I'm a blog addict.

It must be similar to being a histrionic person...someone who loves being in the limelight... I certainly do. I can't say it doesn't matter wether anyone reads this or not.  If I only get one hit...it makes me just feel lovely...luvli!!!  (I luv spelling luvli like that...luvli).  Blogging is like looking at yourself in the mirror and admiring your assets and noticing your flaws.

It's cloudy and rainy outside today.  I still have that rushing feeling that I've had for two months.  It is from eating sugar and drinking caffeine.  The sugar effects me even worse than the caffeine, but I have been eating it anyway.  That is self abuse.  I'm going to stop. 

I don't feel as racy as I did yesterday.  I feel much better.  Yesterday, I was jittery and irritable.  Everything got on my nerves and made me jumpy.  When the boys were arguing and throwing things at each other, i wanted to scream.  Ky was being very rude and that irritated me too.  I guess I'll try to take them to the movies today.  Maybe it will keep the boys from tearing each others head of.

It will also make the time pass quickly.

Since I have been watching them after school, my schedule has been all off.  My sleep schedule has been all discombobulated and upheaved.  I don't know which way is up.  i find myself making promises to myself and not keeping them.  Like making a to do list that I completely ignore, knowing that I have to fix the things on it, make appointments etc. 

So, this is a day in the life.

Yesterday, I got a call from my father.  He is upset and says that he was going out to the house in the country.  I told him that sometimes it's good to be alone when you get "nervous". It helps to be in a quiet environment.  Then calls my eldest sister who states that she is riding out to the country to get Daddy. She made a slew of excuses as to why she should go get him.  He's 85, he's sick, she can get off work early...  She asked me if I wanted to go.  I said no. She asked me why.  I listed all of the reasons as to why I would not ride out with her. It was as though she didn't hear a word I said.

Then she asked me if I could drive him two hours--three from where I live-- to the country on Thursday. When, I told her that I didn't think that I could do that, she got an attitude and said goodbye and hung up. 

I'm not taking my father back to the country on Thursday.  I have a life.  I will no longer allow my family members to disrupt it at their convenience.  They can do whatever they think is best. I am determined to do the same. Guilt free.

I'm tired...of?  I'm tired of being ignored by my family when they are doing well and called upon when they have created a mess or crisis.  I'm not playing rescuer.  For now anyway.

So, my eldest sister can be mad.  I've often sought my family out, just to be with them.  They never visit...barely call. And when I call them, they don't want to answer the phone.  I will love them from afar.  Genuinely.

Am I There Yet?

After writing this blog for the last  3-4 years I feel that I have reached the center of my angst.  I kept having little nervous breakdowns for what seemed to be no good reason.  They have been occurring since I was about 18.  Much of my "nervous" condition attributable to the excessive consumtion of sugar and caffeine since age 16.

I am addicted to both.  I was able to kick the caffeine and sugar for a few months but found that under extremely stressful conditions, I fell off of the wagon.  And now I find myself here...back in angstland trying to dry myself out again.

THIS IS HORRIBLE.

My sugar addiction can be traced back to when I was very young.

I also attribute some of my angstiness to the trauma that I went through when I was little.  I won't go into detail here but, I grew up in somewhat of a war zone.  The war existed inside my house.  So, i suffered from some for of PTSD.

Blame it on sugar, blame it on the war zone in my home...I am just plain nuts!  I developed no coping skills during my young years and so I had no tolerance for anything. 

I've been working diligently and feverishly to enjoy my life.  I don't think many people work at enjoying their life that much.  I think that we just  assume that we are supposed to know how to enjoy it.  We are...but for some of us enjoyment of life gets lost in translation because we are too busy trying to control events, occurances and out comes. 

We don't realize that we have no control over most of the stuff that happens in our lives.  If we think we do, we are fooling ourselves.  Any self help book that tell you to take control of your life is selling
you snake oil.  That doesn't mean we should sit idly by and just let life boll us over...we have the ability to make choices.  What comes from those choices we don't really control...we can only gauge the outcome.  It's kind of like playing pool. 

You can make a good shot if you hit the ball at the right angle...but there is no guarantee that your perception is correct. If it is...the ball goes in the pocket.  If it's not...you lose your turn. In either case...there may be some conditions that are not apparent or conditions may arise that you didn't expect. Or, conditions may change to influence the direction of your target while the ball rolls.

There is an outcome that you can reasonably expect, but there are no guarantees.

I often felt slighted because, I thought that guarantees were a given.

My angst has decreased considerably since I started writing this blog.  I had fallen in love with this and didn't want to let it go.  But, let it go I must.  It's time to move on...and so.

I'm grateful for this blogged.  It has been one of the greatest gifts that I could have given myself. 
The two things that I have learned about myself is:

1)I'm not as crazy as I thought I was. (I say this because we all possess a degree of insanity...I've chosen to embrace mine. Maybe a better word is creativity).
2)It is detrimental to my physical, spiritual and mental health to consume caffeine and sugar.

Well, three things..

3) I love to write!!!

See...ya at 1/365 (that's my next blog).

Another Day

I no longer wish to hide behind my words.  I used to say stuff and then run for cover.  My bark was much worse than my bite.  I didn't allow people to get close enough to me to see who I was.  I was afraid, had not trust for other human beings.  Had more trouble trusting myself than  anyone else.

I'm beginning to trust myself.  It's still hard to find trustworthy people though.  People that you can't trust are easy to find.  I used to be afraid of them though because I was always worried about what they'd do to me.  I don't worry about them. You can guard against people doing things to you, sort of cushion the blows...but you can't stop them from hurting you. Not always anyway.

Like when my boss who pretended to be my friend got mad at me and lied on me and had me fired.  I hated her for the longest.  She ended up getting fired.  But, she cared so little about herself that I doubt it even phased her. 

Nevertheless.  Hiding behind my words.  I don't have to hide behind anything.  I just don't allow people to get close to me.  That is horrible.  I don't like certain people and I feel guilty about that.  The funny thing is that though most of my coworkers talk about my boss, there is something about her that I like.  I'm not sure what it is.  I think that she is very guarded because there are so many snakes wriggling around on the floor.

I can name them but, I wouldn't want them to look at this blog and see their names...then they might sue me for libel or slander even though the things that I'm saying are true.

I am sleepy.  I tried to contact my friend in Virginia but she is addicted to Gardens of Time and anything on television.  She accused me of not appreciating black women in theatre.  My daughter is an actress for heavens sake.  My so called friend is just crazy!  Yeah, I said it...crazy.

I just can't spend 12 hours of my 24 watching television and living vicarilously through a bunch of idiots who could care less about me.  She--my buddy--really needs to find something else to do with her time.  She calls me and tries to enlist me in her fantasies...I get bored too fast and it's hard for me to sit still for that long.

I haven't heard anything about Bam Bam.  He was throwing up every five minutes and was weak and dehydrated.  Then my friend said that he was faking after he got better.  How in the hell does a cat fake being nauseated and vomiting all over the place? He was too fragile at one point and was sleeping all the time.  How could he have been faking?

I don't feel lie arguing with my friend tonight.  So, I'll just let her have her way...

I'm looking forward to tomorrow...it'll be another day.

Free To Be

I'm risking being me.  I don't exactly know what the hell that means either but I'll try it.  Some of the things I write are so transient that when I go back and look at them, I can't believe I wrote it.  It rained today and

Rain, Rain Go Away

I'd give anything not to have the desire to write today...  My mind wants to wander.  I'd rather stroll up the street examing the flowers and beckoning to the sun to come and be my friend to play with me.  I scold myself for lingering too long in bed and writing instead of getting dressed and going out to look for gold earrings that my sister wanted for her birthday. I can find them online, but it's hard to buy something expensive if you don't know what it looks like.

I should have bought a computer with a webcam...that way, I wouldn't have to struggle and surf the net for pictures to post.

I think about work and sometimes I wonder, why I am still there.  I feel tortured.  Like my efforts there are useless, like I cannot make an impact on the community where healthcare is concerned, nor an impression on my peers.  Both, have definately influenced me. I've resolvedn to become stronger spiritually and emotionally and not to let another human being rattle me.

That's a hard call.

I often say that I'm tired when I'm fed up and frustrated.

I'm somewhat tired.  But, not so much with my job as with myself.  You can't expect too much from an employer.  All they think about is money.  Employers.

My boss, I think is not well. Something is definately ailing her but, that is none of my business.  Self serving, uncaring.  I've never met anyone quite like her.  I wonder if it is wise to continue to work under someone who cares so little about her staff?  In a way, I feel as though I am wasting my time there.  But, I cannot gauge what that means, "wasting my time".  What else could I be doing there?

If that's the case, then I'm always wasting my time.

Writing just seems like an important part of my being.  Telling the truth.  As I see it.  It's sort of like my eldest son's gay identity...but, maybe not as deeply ingrained.  It's not something that you can wash off and just keep on moving, like it wasn't there in the first place.

It's raining again today...I can no longer hide behind my words.  I no longer wish to.  That's interesting. 

I've just made a new discovery about myself...Thanks for listening.

Forgive and Forget

My daughter  called me yesterday.  We talked about the fact that I'd become angry at her for commenting about the fact that she and her brother were never close.  I didn't see that.  I didn't see many things when they were growing up. I think as parents, we only see what we want to see.  Like my dismissal of the fact that my son might be gay when he was small.  Numerous signs danced in front of me.  I ignored them.

I don't know why.

I told my daughter that I was sorry.  That I know that I can't rush or change her views about her brother.  I did ask her to try to be supportive. Still strange to me is that we think that we can approve or disapprove who someone is.  And it doesn't just apply to a persons gender...It applies to someone's attitude, their state of mind, their religion, their culture, their skin color....and the list goes on and on.

I don't know why.

Sometimes I struggle to discuss things on the web, for fear that someone will see what I think.  But, what would be the purpose of discussing things on the web if you don't want someone to see?

That just doesn't make sense to me.

I've sat here all morning for about an hour and a half watching Dancing With the Stars. I wanted to see Chaz Bono dance.  I was very touched by seeing his mom, Cher in the audience rooting for him.  He did well today.  I notice, though a look of uncertainty on his face.  It is a look of loss.  It must be an awfully daunting task to begin late in life to live your life as male, when you were born as a female.

I have enough issues. It's a good thing that I wasn't born transgender.  I think that I would have handled being lesbian well.

Anyway... that's all I can think of to write right now. 

Bye...

The Process

when you express anger at someone for being who they are, you are trying to rush their process.  i do it all the time to the people closest to me.  my eldest daughter and i had a discussion about my eldest son's gayness.  i am amazed at how many people think that approving or disapproving someones gender issues will make them change, reconsider and has anything to do with anyone other than the gender challenged person.

our conversation went something like this: well i don't approve of his wearing cross dressing.  i'd have to get used to that.

well whether you approve of it or not, he cross dresses.

well, it kind of creeps me out.

it may creep you out, but the fact is you have a gay brother who cross dresses.  can't you just support him for what he's dealing with? how come you can support your gay guy friends and not your brother?

we were never that close.

a volcanic explesion occurred way deep down in myself and i hung up the phone.  when she tried to call me back i hung the phone up.  on the last call i instructed her not to call me until it was time to come home.  i was done. 

i remember the day when all she and chibuzor had was each other and God.  i remember the days when she would look out for him, like the day we had to call a code adam in walmart when her brother had disappeared from my side (she noticed that he was gone waaaaayyy before i did). i remember the days when she stood up for her brother, not allowing anyone to talk about him or pick on him. 

i remember those days.

her brother always finds away to get to her events to support her...come hell or high water.

i didn't think i was asking for much for her to be supportive.  but support for her gay brother may be more than she can muster.  i'm still a little shaken by her remark.  she has a tendency to detach from any situation that she thinks will compromise her welfare in any way.  this is one of those situations where she feels that it is necessary to run the other way.  emotionally, physically and spiritually.

good luck to her.

i realize that we all come to terms to terms with our own issue in our own time and at our own pace. 
we can't rush our own process.  it is impossible to try to speed up someone elses.

Day 1

Okay, I'm going to try this one day at a time, for 365 days thing again.  This, as far as I'm concerned is Day #1 for the sake of counting, because I keep losing track for heavens sakes.   Day...1.  I am sitting on my bed after taking a bath and rubbing Burt's Bees on my feet and arms.  I started to rub it all over my body but I didn't want to use the whole tube so I just did my feet and arms.  I gave myself a foot massage.

One of the difficult things about massaging my feet is getting my feet up on my lap these days.  It's a much simpler task after taking a bath...but Laaaawwwd, when I haven't prepped myself, I feel like a contortionist. By the way, my knees have been hurting lately. 

I'm tired but trying to get myself centered enough to feel peaceful.  Yesterday anxiety tried to take over my body but I calmed myself and it went away. I kind of got angry at the anxiety for presenting itself. It just kinda sneaks up on you and jumps out of a dark corner somewhere and tries to scare you.  I just looked at it and said, "you again".  It just disappeared like a puff a smoke in a tornado.  But, I still didn't feel happy.  In the absence of anxiety, I always thought that happiness was sure to follow. Mistake..

Deepak Chopra says that we should just relax and then in his book, he has some lists scattered throughout the book about how to gauge whether you are centered or just crazy as hell.  I think I lean towards that crazy as hell category more often than not.  I think all of the time.  Who wants to be innundated with random or rational thoughts ALL OF THE TIME.  I don't, but, I am.

Day 1 Y'all!!!

Nighty Night!

I just got off work and I've been sitting in my room playing computer games...like I should be playing computer games. What I should be doing is sleeping.  One of my coworkers is getting on my nerves, trying to play head games with me. She keeps telling me on Facebook that my boss is calling her after she called off from work.  When  I ask her "why". she either logs off or changes the subject. I'm blocking her from my Facebook account. 

I am tired after working nights.  It's torture trying to work nights and not wanting to.  I am having difficulty staying focused because I so, want to do something else.  I keep trying to like what I do at work. In many ways, I love what I do, but aftet 30 years, I am burned out doing it.  It is very hard giving half assed care to your patients because the hospital administration keeps printing forms for you to fill out to make sure that you are checking the date on someones IV line.

Or...making sure that someone labeled the patient's IV bag that already has what's in it on the bag.  I used to love nursing.  If people fall out of love with each other, I see why now.  It's because they are spoon fed each other day in and day out whether they like it or not.  I still love nursing...just not the way nursing is today. 

I wish I could just walk of my job and into a nice big advance for a first novel.  I have to write the novel and then I'd have to present it to someone...Then, there is no guarantee that anyone would buy the damned thing.

One of my coworkers is getting married. She has all of the things she wants on a registry.  I was noticing how modest she is.  She's really sweet anyway.  Nothing that she requested is over 100.00 dollars.  Everything is under 100 dollars.  I was talking about how I would have gone over the top if it was my wedding registry...maybe that 's why I don't have one.  I would have asked for a painting by Leonardo da Vinci on it's orignal canvas with his signature in a picture frame carved by Peruvian monkeys out of elephant tusks charmed out of African elephants that were friends with tribal farmers in the congo rainforests.  How come elephants don't live in South America or the United States or Canada naturally...that brings me to another question. Why don't I just go to sleep.
I think I'm starting to hallucinate.  G'night.

Obla Dee, Obla Da

Life goes on.  My weekend at work wasn't too bad...but I won't discuss that here.  Perhaps, when I REALLY start a nursing blog...I'll discuss it there.  I was supposed to go to a wedding this weekend but changed my mind when my elder son asked me to take him to shop for some materials that he wanted to use to fashion a Nicki Minaj costume.  I would love to see him in drag on Thursday.  I will do everything that I can to go to his show.

I'm tired, have a headache.  Had a sleep deprivation hangover yesterday...I don't remember much of yesterday...it's all a blur.  My head hurts though.  The last thing I remember is pushing back tears Monday morning when I was giving report because one of my patients had a headache so severe that she was screaming out in pain. 

I could complain.  But, what good would it do?  What is it that I would complain about.  Except the fact that I am still exhausted.  My daughter went to California this morning. I woke up at 6 am to take her to the airport.  She was reluctant to go and I gave her a lecture about how important it is to just stop.  It is.  I have a hard time stopping sometimes, but I know how important it is when you are trying to take care of yourself. 

So, I got out of the car when we stopped at the baggage check and gave her big hug.  She will have fun...I hope.  I will have peace and quiet for two weeks.  She won't walk around the house here rolling her eyes and complaining.  I won't have to wonder whether she is going to come home or not tonight because she is away.  It takes the guess work out of things.

I had a dream about this guy that I had an affair with a few years ago.  I don't know why he came up in my dreamscape.  An old lover that I struggled not to fall in love with because he advised me not to.  He was surprised after two years when I didn't.  He was right to advise me not to. I'm glad that I didn't. I kept trying to convince him to go to Boston with me. In, the dream.

He was in danger.  Somebody was trying to kill him.  He had BB gun holes in his door.  And I told him how to patch it up.  It just dawned on me now that I was trying to take a trip to Boston, in that dream.  I bought stuff.  Kids were with us...but, I'm not sure whose. We drove up a very straight road at dawn or dusk, the grass on the sides dead.  Uncertain and uncomfortable...we started moving forward.

Not sure we had the supplies we needed to make the trip...not really certain of the route to go.

(This dream was about my future).

I couldn't really find the guy or communicate with him although he was there...and he finally told me that he couldn't go.  Not, necessarily in words, but deeds.  I accepted the fact that he couldn't go.  It took me a while though.   Can't remember a lot of specific details in the dream.

I want to go back home.  I want to go back to the home I left.  But, I can't.  I will never go back there again because it is gone.  Mother is gone. Nana is gone.  Lois is gone.  My youth is gone.  My mindset, the mindset I had back then is gone.  Why do I long for those days?  I invented a new definition for misery back then.

The depths of my soul grieve those "back then" times.  The depths grieve them because I want to heal all of the hurt that I was going through back then.  But, you can't go back in time.  And if you could...how in the hell would things be any different? I wish I could be in love now, like I was then and appreciate the experienc...nurture it.  But, my views of love back then were not healthy.  I ran from true love at every turn.  And I always ended up in the arms of the devil...or one of his cohorts.

I did not live my life back then because, I didn't know that I had a right to do that.  I only practiced living my life.  I've just begun to actually get pretty good at it.

I long for home and all the things that I thought that home should come with back then, but never did.  That longing is inevitable.  I don't know if it will ever go away. It is embedded in my soul. I understand why ghosts linger sometimes.

La la la la...Life goes on. 

The First Day

I'm going to do an experiment starting today and try to squeeze all of the joy out of life that I can.  Or, infuse all of the joy that I can into my life...Today, I start my life living one day at a time for  365 days.  I've tried this experiment before.  But, I didn't do it for a prolonged period of time.   I can't say that I'll write everyday, but I will note everyday.  Be aware of everyday.  Hopefully, appreciate everyday.

My young son was late for school this morning.  I set his bedtime to ten o'clock.  He goes to bed on time but I think he needs to go to bed earlier since he's in the 5th grade.  I want to just go back to sleep.  I'm not tired but, it feels good to sleep.  That just seems like the best activity in the world right now...sleeping.  Maybe that's why my young son was late for school.

His father is leaving for Virginia today.  He and his wife/ girlfriend.  I wish them well.  I'm tired of struggling here.  I want to move to Massachusetts.  But, what will I do there?  Will my life will be all warm and fuzzy and cozy there? Will I gain riches?  Will I make friends?

I am still reading Deepak Chopra's book.  It is actually very good.  It might have been a good idea for me to finish reading it before I said anything about it. It talks about accessing the soul.  I have been ignoring mine for no good reason that I can think of.  What is wrong with me? I don't want to leave Georgia for no good reason that I can think of except, if I leave, I will be bouncing all over the place.  I want to travel and visit home more. 

I don't like to dress up.  But, I might feel better if I dress up.  I dressed up the other night to go to a friends wedding shower.  She is getting married on this Sunday. I was going to go to the wedding but, since my young son's dad is leaving, I won't have anyone to watch him.  And I don't have anything to wear.  I could have bought something to wear.

This is what I tend to do. Now I see why things cause me so much anxiety.  I will wait until the last minute and then go look for something to wear.  Then, I'll be all tense and sweaty when I get dressed.. and nervous.  And then I will not want to go because I don't think I look right, but I will go anyway.  I told W...... that I would go to her wedding.  But, with my circumstances changed, it is going to be too stressful to go.  I have a headache thinking about it.

Chopra says to get out of stressful situations.  That's what people are doing when they commit suicide.  What lengths do you go through to get out of stressful situations?  I would quit my job and go back home.  That would be letting go of the stress, but then I am absolutely certain that I'd find more stress somewhere.  I can create stress...easily.  Stress is a habit for me.  It makes me feel more alive, fulfilled and important.  I know that that is crazy as hell.  I think that I am addicted to stress.

So, how do you cure a stress addiction?

 

That Thing I Do

Yesterday I went to lunch with my friend/ landlord.  She wanted me to have my locks lopped off but  I wouldn't.  I like my locks and I've worked hard to get them to lock...People don't know how much work it is to lock your hair and maintain it to keep your hair looking good.  It's grueling...trust me.

So the week before last, when my friend said, "We are going to the hairdresser on Tuesday so that you can get your hair done."  I said, "Okay", but I didn't really mean it...so when the day came, I told her that I didn't want to go and I was keeping my locks.  I texted these words to her.

She texted me back, "Ok".

I don't think she was too pleased with me because she was kind of cool when I went to lunch with her yesterday.  The conversation was flat...and I was kind of disappointed.  She goes to Ghana sometimes for a few days and then flies back home.  She said that she doesn't like her coworkers and she criticizes everyone.  I had expectations... When you have expectations, you get disappointed.  I don't know...what I expected.

Yes...I do.  I was expecting to have a vibrant and fun conversation about dreams and aspirations.  She told me about her trips to Ghana and what she does when she goes.  I wanted to hear more about those. Vicarious conversations...I've had lots of those, when I'm so happy about what someone else does that it's like I'm doing it too.  (Granted, I need a life).

My friend is now planning to go to China to shop for someone who will make bridal hats. She wants to open a bridal shop in her home. How boring. We were in a Thai restaurant.  I sat across from her and pictured myself saying, "Oh! Oh! I can make hats! Pick me! Pick me!" Bridal hats is the last thing that I'd be interested in making.

I met her at the city hospital that we worked at.  She wasn't friendly then and was always getting into confrontations with people.  She was very defensive.  I used to calm her down, when she would bristle at any and everything and nothing.  Her temperament is like that of an animal that's been mistreated.  It doesn't matter how kind you are to them, the chance that they will revert to their wild behavior and bite you in the butt remains. I knew who she was back then...how did I forget?

Doc said at the beginning of the week that I always do that. Not only was I incredulous that she said that to me, but I'm still struggling to understand what it is that I always do with people. I forget...what is it?  Do I forget that people are who they are and that's how they are...including me?  Do I forget to treat people with a long handle spoon so that I won't get injured when they bite it?  Do I blame people for things that I am responsible for?  Pro'ly.

A tendency to look for people who I look up to...who I can model myself after...lingers.  It's like being a teenager.  They say that people get stuck in the age that they were in when they were first addicted to a substance.  My DOC...drug of choice is caffeine.  I began drinking coffee at the age of 14 or 15. Am I stuck in teenagehood?

I'm trying to practice mindfulness.  Mindfulness involves not forgetting yourself and being present for your life...showing up for it.  I haven't been present for my life in the past few months...not fully. (I don't think I've ever been FULLY present for my life.  (I've been too busy trying to show up for everybody elses).

I'm trying to be present for my life now...how difficult. Especially when you don't really like the life that you live. What life is that exactly?

Time Wasters

I waste numerous hours sitting and thinking and wondering about stuff.  Stuff like, why people do some of the stupid things they do.  Or, why people can't see how our freedoms are being chipped away and that we will all be living in a United States that seems like Iraq or Iran in a few years. I wonder why it's so difficult for me to do the things I need and want to do? Or why it's so difficult to stop doing the things that are not good for me like drinking coffee or eating fatty foods or just sitting and staring and wondering about stuff.

Another time waster is playing online computer games.  All of them have a repetitive quality to them that trick us into thinking that each time we play we are doing or seeing something different.  How clever.  Life is like that too.  We are like blood filled, skin covered robots with bones that are programmed from birth to do the same things over and over again.  The odd thing is that we can do the same thing over and over again and expect different results all of our lives.  Are we trained to be insane?

I keep wondering why we as a society put our lives in the hands of people who don't care about us.  Like congress.  The Republicans and some of the Democrats.  People who have what they need...for now at least, and who feel content playing with the lives of people who are struggling to get their needs met.  Why we are content to believe what these people say is beyond me.  It might be more reasonable to look at what it is that they do...or don't do. 

I think that President Obama is right to try to encourage us to be proactive.  It is only by speaking out that we will be able to maintain what freedoms we have left.  We have quite a few left...but we risk losing those if we don't open our eyes and our mouths.  I'm going to call my Congressman and Representatives today.  Well, maybe...I have so many other things to do, that I've been procrastinating about. 

I'm wondering if blogging is a waste of time? Hmm, I don't know, but I'm going to keep blogging because I like it.  It makes me feel good...unlike playing computer games and simply wondering about stuff.

I was reading Deepak Chopra's book Reinventing the Body, Resurrecting the Soul- How to create a new you.  I read the first half but, couldn't really get into the second half.  It talks about relying on yourself and not a Higher Power.  I've struggled for a long time to gain an adequate concept of a Higher Power, I'm not giving up on that now. 

I have to rely on a Higher Power. That is what powers the soul.  If we had the spiritual power to fuel our own souls, there would be no need for a Higher Power...or a God or Prayer or Meditation.  We'd be our own self contained power houses.  I feel like I wasted my 16.00 bucks.
If there was a recipe for living your life perfectly, I'd think that someone would have written it out by now.  There is now way to live our lives perfectly.  We are not perfect human beings...whatever that means. Perfection is probably in the eye of the beholder.  Perfection can only be perceived by the one creating what they deem to be perfect. I guess. If I am not perfect, can I even perceive perfection? How can that word exist in any language?
I'm done...

Can time really be wasted?

Time...Less

I'm a little anxious today and I'm imploding like a dying star.  I hate feeling like this.  It's the result of drinking coffee and eating ice cream with lots of sugar.  I couldn't resist the ice cream.  I took the kids to Bruster's yesterday and  just lost it when I saw their ice cream and I didn't have any.  So, I got an apple dumpling with cinnamon syrup and vanilla ice cream.  Yummmm-ma.

I'm paying for it this morning with the jitters...I hate feeling this way.  I'd really like to go back to sleep and wake up feeling a lot calmer.  Also, I have to go up to my young son's school and I need to clean up my room and journal.  I always journal in the morning....lately though, its been a struggle.  I haven't been wanting to write for some reason.  I think that maybe a truth is about to reveal itself that I'm trying to hide from.  Hiding is my forte...it's what I do.

I guess I even try to hide from myself.  A part of my personality must be shy.  I'm sleepy and I have a headache.  I made some terribly fattening Mexican pie.  I don't make it that often .  I like to eat it cold.  The flavors come through alot stronger when you eat it cold. 

My older son has decided to do a drag show.  I told my older daughter and she wrinkled up her face. I didn't know that she was homophobic.  I remembered when she was in high school and I told her that I thought her brother was gay, she cried.  I did too at first. But, then I tried to encourage my son to accept the gay part of himself.  I don't think he was ready.  I was kind of ready.  No one wants their child to be gay or lesbian or bi or transsexual.  Well that's the way I thought back then.

But, it doesn't matter to me.  He's my son. If he decided to have a sex change, then he'd become my daughter.

I told my daughter that I was going to the show if he made the audition.  She said she wasn't ready.  That's fine.  I am.

As for the jitters.  One of the things that Deepak Chopra talks about in his book Reinventing the Body, Ressurecting the Soul is how we can be timeless.  I like that.  When I get the jitters, it appears that I don't have enough time to do anything.  It's like I am just running way ahead of me and I am in back of me trying to get the ahead part of me to notice that she's leaving me behind.

I have been like this for the past few months.  Living like this full of guilt, remorse, regret, anger and just unresolved emotional fallout that just resurfaces like oil spilled in the Gulf of Mexico.  It contaminates, sticks to, spoils and kills everything that looks like joy in your life.  Timelessness...Wow!  That cleans all that fallout off.

I'm tired...think I'll go to the library and "three page" myself...

And be Timeless.

Communication? Dream?

Me and D.. didn't have a good conversation on Monday.  I got frustrated with her asking me questions that I didn't really know the answer to (and didn't really want to answer).  She got frustrated with my not answering them.  I'm not frustrated anymore, just scared.  How come I can't control my life?

No one can.  The difference between me and them is that I know that I can't control my life.  "They" still think they can.  What silly little puppets we human beings are with our invisible quantum powered strings hanging  from vital parts of our bodies.

That was an angry statement.  I make angry statements when I realize that I AM actually a silly little puppet powered by invisible quantum strings.  But, maybe it's a good thing. We've done enough damage attached to those strings.  Can't imagine what would happen if we really got loose.

I had a dream this morning.  I find myself exhausted many days.  I was tired this morning but, was more than willing to push myself to my limit again.  I had planned to go to a 12 step meeting and then go to the library.  I was headed to my son's school to drop off lunch money and then go to the library and write.  I fell asleep instead after I lied to myself saying that I would just close my eyes for a couple of minutes.  I made the mistake of covering myself up with a comforter after realizinI g that I was cold.

I dreamed that I was going to work and that I arrived early.  The hospital was an old hospital with really sick patients in it.  I was walking through the hospital trying to help people, my coworkers at random.  I couldn't find my phone or my stethescope or anything that I needed to do my job.  I decided to go outside and move my car.  I guess I had been rushing to get there and parked my car wherever.  I was driving my care up a street because I had to go around the corner to get into the parking garage.  It was raining and as I got up the street, it started to flood.  I started to drive through the water but when I got to a certain point, the water was up to my mirror and I couldn't safely go any further. So, I turned up the side street.  I kept panicking about going to work and I still couldn't find my cell phone.  I made a  U turn on that side street and was going to go back up the street to the hospital, but my car became disabled.  I found myself at Nana's house.  It was a big beautiful house.  Some girls from the hospital who had just gotten off work had picked me up and taken me there. The one driving was in school and she sat at a table in the house with the other girls.  I think she was studying.  I looked for a phone to call work.  It was hard to find one that I could communicate with.  All of the phones were either unplugged from the wall or off the cradle or...just not working.  I mistook someone else's cell phone for mine and when I asked someone if I could use their cell phone...they made some excuse.   The supervisor that was on that night finally called me.  The conversation was interrupted because I went to go hang up another phone so that I could hear her better.  I never finished my conversation with her.  I didn't want to go back to work but was willing to.  I had left my car in the middle of the street somewhere and wasn't sure how I was going to get there.  Eventually, I woke up...

I am not quite sure what this dream means.  I know that it has to do with the lack of communication and obstacles that I face at work.  The girls who brought me home are like some of the coworkers who rally around me, but whom I don't necessarily know.  I felt nervous and anxious throughout the dream. I was fearful that I would be fired for becoming a no show.  Frankly, I think to myself how much I don't want to go back to work.  And how I should just not go.

But, I'd be pounding the nails into my own coffin if I did that.  I have to go back to work because I need the revenue.  I like the job.  But, I need to separate my identity from nursing.  I work as a nurse.  I am not a nurse though.  What's the difference?  I remember when everything that I was and did was nursing.  I had no self-esteem save the kudos and compliments that I got from my patients and coworkers and sometimes the doctors.  All I did was talk about myself-- as a nurse.  I felt powerful and in control when I was at work.  What a sick fantasy.

I still love nursing.  I don't love what it has become. It is difficult to work, knowing what your limitations as a human being are and seeing young nurses who have yet to realize theirs.  It is stressful working for an industry who sees dollar signs embedded in the faces of every person who crosses the threshold.

Anyway. 

Owning My Words

I don't really know what this blog is about much anymore.  I just write and whatever comes up, comes out.  Not always.  Sometimes I erase stuff that I think is too personal or might be construed the wrong way.  But, that's only on the days that I care what someone else thinks.  I'm enjoying writing these days...When I write.  It's been difficult to journal. I don't know what that is all about.

I can only guess why it's so hard to put my words down on paper.  One thing I know that affects my ability to write in an adverse manner is consuming too much sugar and caffeine.  I'm addicted...AGAIN!  Working nights has done this to me.  Or, I've done this to me working nights.  I don't like working nights because it makes me exhausted.  It has totally confused my body clock.  I can't think clearly when I take in too much caffeine and sugar.    Caffeine makes me insomoniatic (I love making up words).  Sugar clouds my judgement and ability to think clearly.

So, why do I consume them. 

I tend to drink a caffeine on the weekends when I work to stay awake on the days, that I sleep well.  One of my coworkers talks about the things she does during the day.  I sort of envied that, and I tried to do things on the days that I work.  My coworker has more time to sleep though. She lives closer to the hospital than I do.  She lives ten minutes away and I live an hour away...so, she doesn't have to go right to bed after work.  I need to.

I feel really isolated sometimes.  I was thinking about this yesterday when I took my eldest son shopping.  I don't like that isolated feeling.  But, I don't think it's time for me to get super social.
It's been difficult.  I need to think about who I want to socialize with and whether I like the people or not and blah blah blah.

People are funny here in Atlanta...Nosy and wary.  I'll explain that in another blog sometime. 

I've been here for what seems an eternity.  Sometimes, I wonder if I didn't relegate myself to my own personal hell by staying her for the past seventeen years.  I can't believe it's been that long either. 

When I came down here, I was running from the chaos in my family. I also wanted to protect my children from being treated like my mother and her children had been treated by the family.  I was also running from a crazed husband who just wanted to use and abuse me and totally ignored the children.  (By the way, my ex is still crazy as hell...my first ex). 

Anyway, I am making a pledge to own my own words.  After all, they are my own words.  I think about what a dysfunctional society we live in when you have to be guarded about what you say.  Or, people say you have to be guarded about what you say.  Lest you offend the powers that be.  But, who are they but human beings who find it fitting to say whatever they want? 

We are all adults... Of course, maybe there are things that shouldn't be said by anyone.  As for me, I'll have to figure out what I shouldn't say as I go along.  Trying to figure out what is proper based on societal mores in American society is almost impossible.  People are too often ostracized, black-balled, ex-communicated , exiled for what needs to be said but, what the status quo is unwilling to face.  A nation in severe denial is the USA.

I've found in my own life that when you stay in denial for too long...the black dog will bite you in the ass.  In other words reality will make itself known in a way that is utterly excruciatingly painful.
Then, you don't have the choice of ignoring it...or you can call the black dog a chipmunk and continue getting injured.

I'm owning my own words...whatever the consequences.

Sleepless

I'm having a sleepless night.  I took time off from work this weekend because, my son's dad is leaving for Virginia this week.  So, I thought he was leaving for Virginia this weekend and I wanted to help my son make the transition but, he went to spend the night at his dad's house.  This is his dad's last weekend here.

So, I sit alone in the bed.  Initially I was playing games on the computer, like Collapse and Gardens of Time.  I got tired of doing that so, I decided that this would be a good time to blog. 

I am emotionally and spiritually mired in quicksand. How I got here, I don't know.  It always comes as a surprise for me when I'm stuck. It's usually a sign that I'm in denial about something or other.  I could make a list of all the things that I'm in denial about.  But, if you're in denial about something...would you necessarily know what it is?

Possibly.  I won't make a list.  I made a gratitude list once on this blog and I was absolutely appalled at some of the stuff that I put on it when I glanced at it.  I think that I was really grateful for about half of them, the others I was trying to be grateful for but they didn't quite make the cut and I put them on there anyway.  I wasn't really sure how to be grateful at the time.  I do now, though.

I'm sitting up here writing on the computer and... this computer kind of does crazy things, sometimes.  Things just appear on the screen. Well...maybe I'm hitting keys that I shouldn't be striking.

I'm tired but I can't sleep. My eldest came in here and sat on my bed for a minute.  I think she got aggravated at me because she was in a group picture with her sorors and they all had black dresses on it.  Hers stood out because it had this huge colorful applique on it that looked like a bouquet of flowers.  I wasn't sure what it was and I said, "What the hell is that on your dress?" I realized that should have suppressed the urge to ask that question when she snatched the picture away and changed the subject.

I don't mean to aggravate this child but, she gets upset if I take a deep breath. All sorts of things ran through my mind when I was looking at that picture.  Like, why didn't she wear a solid black dress so she wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb? It almost looked like she was wearing it because she wanted to look different from everyone else.

I think she showed me the picture so that, I would say something to aggravate her. It worked...I did!  I wonder if all mother-daughter relationships as strained as ours is?  Sometimes I think that girl hates me. Maybe, I havent' t learned how to fully love myself.

I bought myself two pairs of decent shoes today.  Well actually, a pair of sneakers and a pair of shoes.  I was going to wear the sneakers to work but, decided that I need something a little sturdier. Although, they are very comfortable.

I'm going to sleep.  For now, I'll just stay in denial until, I my subconscious decides to tap me on the shoulder or hit me over the head with a ton of bricks. G'night.  It's about 12:30 AM where I am. 

Oh, So Random!

This morning I decided to go to B&N bookstore to blog and journal. Most days, I receive a great sense of freedom from blogging.  But, lately my efforts to express myself-so to speak-are a little strained.  It is hard for me to write without feeling guilty about what I write.  Nobody is really looking at this right?

Maybe it's the paranoia from all the news I've been reading about Google and Facebook and how they can look at your personal stuff and how Facebook can go into your past.

So what?  I tell myself. There are things about my past that I'd rather not remember, but I feel that if someone want's to waste their time digging up old stuff from the past so that they can laud it over you and ruin your life...so be it.  People...especially the ones who have money...think that they are God.
But, they must be miserable.  If you are so hell bent on controlling someone else's life that you don't care how it affects them, you'd have to be miserable.

Then, some people are miserable and don't know it.  They mask it with something else. Anyway, the information here is vague.  I thought that maybe I would just stop writing stuff on Facebook, but if they can already look at my past, then I guess I won't.  The government probably wants to do this for surveillance purposes--so they say.

With the advent of technology,  we might as well strike the work privacy from our vocabulary. 

Anyway, I wanted to write about something else.  I'm not relaxed writing at all.  Not owning my words.  How do I own them?  I guess I just have to write whatever it is that comes to my head.  I am probably threatening writer block.  I thought I was just real tired and I tried to sleep, but I have this excess energy that won't dissipate.  I don't know where it's all coming from.

I went to my ex-friend S--- house a couple of weeks ago.  I hadn't seen her for about three or four years and was wondering how she was doing.  Why I did that I have no idea.  I have her phone number but, we aren't friends anymore for a reason.  She said that she didn't like or trust women. That women could not be her friend, just associates. 

She proved not to be a good friend.  I  left my number in her door and she called me.  I talked to her for a long time but, decided not to call her back.  She's right where I left her.  I have moved on.

My thoughts are random.  My young son woke up this morning in a panic because he had heard the fron door slam.  He came in my room, locked the door and put his head under the covers.  I got up and opened the door and he went into hysterics.  I assured him that there was no intruder downstairs and he finally settled down.

When we woke up this morning, he said he had a sore throat. He hinted at staying home but I wouldn't let him.  I don't know what to say.  I looked at his throat and told him that he had to go to school.  He went.  This music with Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett singing with various artists is kinda cool.  I like it.

I bought a cup of coffee at QT this morning.  I am trying to stop drinking it. I'm thinking that drinking an excess of aspartame and maltodextrin is what is making me so jittery.  Or, so crazy.  I guess I'll have to strike those from my diet too.

My friend K---- got mad at me the other day because I decided not to take the ten hour drive to Virginia.  She is sitting on a deserted island waiting for someone to save her.  I am not that superhero or heroine.  I don't think I'll go visit her for a few years.  She is really crazy.  She was upset because I told her that one of my coworkers was going to have a wedding shower and I wanted to go.

Now, if you had a choice of driving 45 minutes to a wedding shower or 10 hours to visit a friend who has serious anger and control issues and is a chain smoker...where would you go?  No brainer!  I've known her for over 30 years.  I must've been just as crazy as she was back then.  Everytime something doesn't go her way she throws these mega tantrums.  I sent her some money a couple of weeks ago and when she went into her rant she said that I sent it cause I knew I wasn't coming and I was trying to placate her.  Talking about self-centered and ungrateful!

I am done.

Tired Ramble

I'm very tired.  I have been pushing myself.  To do what?  I don't know.  But, I've been pushing myself.  I don't have to work this weekend which is really nice.  I'm tired of working.  But, I found myself feeling anxious when I woke up today. That anxious feeling that I get when I have had too much sugar the day before. 

Not only that...
I feel like work is my life.  What can I do if I a don't work?  Throw a rock in the pond...hear the plop and watch the ripple.

I have worked my behind off trying to learn to live without being addicted to taking care of people.  Care addict.  All addicts get a piece of their identity and personality from the thing that they are addicted to.  Why does my identity have to be attached to nailing myself to the cross everyday on someone else's behalf?

I know that it's nice to do things for people but, when it starts to suck the life out of you, it might be good to walk in another direction. 

On those days, that I feel like my "self" is running to catch up with me, that is exactly what is happening.  I have left myself behind and I'm trying to get my attention.  Okay, so I have my attention. Now, what  do I do?

I noticed one day while sitting in a room with a bunch of bipolars who were in an acute manic phase, how they all try to solve everyone else's problem but their own. (They got on my nerves so bad that day).  Chronic caretakers are like that.  So, are they necessarily bipolar? I don't know.  I guess it depends on how far outside of themselves that they live.  I live outside of myself but, I try to stay as close to home as I can these days. It's horrible tryna find your way back home when you wander too far away.

There was a time when I just couldn't stay indoors.

I don't know why I'm writing this.  You put all your business online, somebody reads it and judges you and decides you are psychotic and useless to society.  Unless, you're Charlie Sheen, or Ted Turner or some other rich white guy with a drug habit and billions... Or Li'l Wayne, or Kanye West or...

I just like to write.  I write "I" too much though.  When I go back and reread )or is it re-read? ), I try to remove some of the "i's". 

It took me a long time to even realize that I was tired.  I just wasn't paying attention. 

Lemonade Recipe

When life hands you lemons...make lemonade. So, the saying goes.  But, what if you don't know what lemons are? What if you don't recognize them?  Some people have what they think is bad luck, and have know idea that they may have some control over the outcomes in their lives.  I used to be like that.

Sometimes, I know that things in my life seem a little sour, but I am remiss to find the source.  I'm not sure sometimes wether these are natural events in the course of things or wether these are lemons that can be turned into lemonades.  What if it's just rotten fruit?  You can't make much of anything out of rotten apples or oranges.  If you let them sit there they'll fester and draw flies and sundry other vermin that you don't want around.  All you can really do is throw them away.  But, then it depends on how rotten it is.  In some cases you can cut out the rotten spots and make apple pie...but oranges, you just have to throw away.  The entire taste of an orange is spoiled if it has a rotten spot in it.


So, what's the point of this?  Hell if I know.  I just woke up thinking about this.  What if a person can't recognize a lemon?  Then, I guess you can just throw that away too.  And then you have to understand that if you make lemonade, you're just putting something sweet on top of something sour.  It doesn't make the sourness go away, it just makes the lemony taste more palatable. 

Then, I started thinking that sugar is not all that good for you... So, then you've damaged yourself, by trying to make a sour thing sweet.

So... I like lemons.  Especially, in lemon meringue pie or cookies.

(Humming...Whistling).

I guess you don't have to know what something is to know that it's sour.  And is it always best to sugar coat something just because it's hard to swallow?

Hmmm. Now there's a thought?

HALT! Who Goes There?

I'm a woman on a mission and I've been speeding with a frenzy that you wouldn't believe and I've gotten nothing accomplished.  The result of raw, irrational anxiety.  So, now it's time for me to stop.
Hungry? Angry? Lonely? Tired?  The four basic needs that I need to attend to. I've neglected them-ALL. Because, all of my attention has been other focused.

I don't feel like writing this and I need to take another nap before I go to work.  Maybe, I should stay home.  I have to show up at work at some point. I don't won't to go to work...

Well, I just ate.  I'm not really pissed.  But, that loneliness of mine is a persistent state, which could cause vegetation to grow all over me.  I had a nightmare that this guy who had gone fishing had caught all these hands and he was throwing them out of a big tank with murky water.  I acted like this was normal in the dream, but now that I think of it.

I am still having a difficult time settling myself down.  A result--I believe--of eating sugar and drinking caffeine or too much aspartame.  I keep developing these mild persistent headaches.  I need to lay off the sugar, caffeine and aspartame and maltodextrin.  Maltodextrin is the worse.  Anyway...what will I use to sweeten my drinks without sugar, aspartame and maltodextrin?

Who knows. I don't really know but, bouncing off the walls is no fun at 53.  I feel like I have multiple personality disorder.  With all these mood swings and anxiety and not knowing what to do or not wanting to sit down half the time. I really feel sorry for people with ADD. 

There is a Comcast truck outside my window with one of those people buckets that help people climb up to the wires on poles.  I get nervous when trucks are outside of my door and I didn't call anybody.  I feel tired.  Okay God...what to do next?

I am trying to have patience but I read something in a Kahlil Gibran book that said patience can cloak itself as something else...I'm going to have to look it up later cause I have to nap.  I' m so afraid of everything it seems. I think when someone betrays you...like they do at work, it can make you afraid.  The question is not whether I should or shouldn't stay in a situation where people are  deceptive and mean and hateful.  The question is where else can I go where people aren't?  What am I?

S.A.D

I've been depressed here lately.  I've found myself on an emotional downward spiral that started last week.  It's not that I'm crazy either.  I feel tired and jittery and all I want to do is sleep.  I don't even want to write these days.  Haven't been writing in my journal.  Just journaling on my blog.

If I look at the things that have me weighed down at this point, maybe I can shut my eyes and have them go away.  But, I doubt it.  Life, for me is really not that bad.  Then, why can't I just snap out of this ?  Maybe, I have seasonal affective disorder.  They've got a name for everything. I never thought about it before.

First, I got sick.  Then, I decided that I needed a social life.  Then, my ex, my young son's father decides that he is going to move to Virginia.  That leaves me searching for childcare. Then, then. I start looking at work and some of the things that we have to deal with and some of the ethical considerations that everyone ignores.  The burden on the nurse there is just too heavy.

If you have a patient that is sick enough...terminal...advancing towards death and the doctor doesn't know what to do, you don't sit there and just let the patient struggle to breath.  The patient's care has to be geared towards something.  If the doctor says that he doesn't know what to do...then...what isthe nurse supposed to do.  We are told that we have to act a certain way because this doctor supplies the floor with patients.

I say call a code. 

The daughter is sitting there holding her breath because she does not know that there is help or whether anything that can be done for her loved one.  Then you call a code and the people that you work with want you to justify it...  I vote my conscious and uphold my own code of ethics.  The ones that I was taught before I came to Georgia.  Cause honestly...
The downward spiral started last week when I decided that I don't want to be a journaling recluse anymore.  I went out to breakfast with my coworker Sunday morning and I just had a feeling that I shouldna done that.  I have never had a desire to go out to eat breakfast with her. She is dysfunctional and has some issues that I just can't quite put my finger on.

Frankly, she scares me.
Then there was that med error at work Sunday night.  It didn't start there though...I said that it started the previous week when I decided that I wanted to turn myself into a social butterfly. Maybe I should stay in my cocoon. 

I've always been rather clumsy at living my life.  Maybe becoming a social butterfly shouldn't be a priority, not now anyway.  I have a lot of trouble with trust.  I trust the wrong people. I.E. the aforementioned coworker. Or, I don't trust anyone.  That is a recipe for a hermits life.
I thought it was the med error that was bothering me of fear of losing my job.  But, that's not it.  I have lot's of stuff swirling in my head. 

WHERE IS MY JOURNAL?????!!@!!!!!!!#WERT&$%)()(*&*#$@%^*&(_)

I have so many baffling questions in my head.  Like how do I deal with this job? My boss never calls me, except when I do something wrong.  If this hospital ever makes magnet...I will be surprised--and dismayed. Not only that, my boss doesn't like me.  I don't really like her either. She's a liar and she's phony and crazy to boot.
I hope she never reads this.

Choo Choo!

I'm trying to get back on track.  My nerves are on edge and I just feel like I need to go.  I can't go...anywhere.  I read blogs last night.  It made me wonder why we bother to send our thoughts out there in cyberspace.  If words are typed on the page and there is no one to read them, do they still matter?
I guess they do.  They definately matter to the person who wrote them. 

Chugga chugga! I'm getting on track as a slow start.

When I wrote about the mistake I made at work, I was so jittery.  It's time to let it go regardless of what the consequences might be.  I think that my jitteriness is caused by something else.

This morning, my little boy said that he didn't want to go to school.  He claimed that his arm was hurting and that his throat was sore.  I told him that he could go to school anyway. He gave me that look that his father, my ex used to give when he didn't want to do something.  A solemn puppy dog eyed stare.  So, I let him stay home.

He then told me about girls fliriting with him at school.  I assured him that there was nothing wrong with it and told him that it was okay to flirt back. I informed him that he is a handsome guy and girls are going to flirt.   He said that he'd thought about asking one of him to be his girlfriend.  One that he doesn't really like.  I suggested to the little man that he ask to be friends with her by asking for her number.  He said that he was waiting for her to ask him for his number. Then he giggled.

It must be hard at 10 to try to approach the opposite sex.

I couldn't even remotely allude to liking a boy at  that age...or any other age for that matter.

I'm surprised that I am able to have a discussion like this with my son.  It's funny and scary at the same time.

Tuesday Morning

SO MY BOSS CALLS ME THIS TUESDAY MORNING TO GET MORE DETAILS ABOUT THE MISTAKE THAT i MADE AT WORK.  i'M NOT FEELING AT ALL EASY ABOUT THIS.  I STILL FEEL SHAKY FROM IT AND i'M WORRIED ABOUT LOSING MY JOB. tHE COWORKER WHO WAS MY CHARGE NURSE ADVISED ME NOT TO TELL THE PATIENT ABOUT THE MISTAKE AND i TOOK HER ADVICE WHICH WAS REALLY STUPID.  i WAS EXTREMELY TIRED AND CONFUSED AND SOMETIMES iJUST DON'T KNOW WHY i DO THE THINGS i DO.  i HAVE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO TRUST THIS PERSON BEFORE, WHERE THE HELL DID i GET THE IDEA THAt I could trust her that day? 

i was exhausted and had an emergency  that night and one of my patients was having a melt down and after the emergency. i was somewhat flustered because I could not get in touch with the doctor to ask him a vital question about this patient and as I was waiting for his phone call I decided to hurry and get my meds out.  i ended up accidently switching up my the patients meds and when i discovered this i was horrified.  i didn't tell the patient right away because i was trying to calm myself down and i didn't want to scare her.  i never completely calmed down and decided that i would wait until my patient was more awake before i explained what happened.  when the charge nurse asked me about whether i had told her or not.  i told her not yet.  she said, "no don't tell her". then she gave me a speech about how the patient's doctor would take care of it.

i knew better, but i was so sleepy that i wasn't thinking clearly. so , i did not override her.  i took her advice.  she also advised me not to put a note in the chart which i had written.  i said to her , "but they need a record in case something happens".  she said, "no". still shaken from the earlier events, i took her advice.  i'm uspet with myself for using poor judgement.  " i've used poor judgement in many matters involving my own life. i tend to be a little more cautious with someone elses.

the thing is: even with policies for transparency, many nurses think that you should not tell when you make a mistake.  many nurses.  so, mistakes still go unreported.  i've been told by numerous nurse that they never report med errors.  i always try to report med errors myself, because you have to consider the welfare of the patient.  and they need to report if something goes wrong.

i've learned a very valuable lesson.  follow my gut and don't let your charge nurse talk you out of doing the right thing.

anyway. it is kind of scary how little integrity someone has and how you can be convinced to compromise your own values if you are not thinking clearly.  always think. 

the biggest problem with society today is that we don't have the courage of our convictions--a psychology teacher that i had once said this in a lecture.

maybe is should go back to school.

I Mean What I Say

I mean what I say when I say that 9/11 commemoration has a whiny quality about it.  No one commemorates the hurricane Katrina tragedy.  The way that America picks it's battles and grieving process is discriminatorily (is that a word?) one sided.  Soldiers die in Afghanistan and Iraq everyday,  who is thinking about them?

It's sad what this country has come to.  I heard people speaking about the fact that on the day of the Towers falling, no one considered skin color or gender.  I heard people say that people were just helping each other.  It is sad that that is what it takes for people in this country to look past the surface and see each other as human.

After that one day, back to business as usual.

I am writing this morning after waking up to get my young son off to school.  He is decidedly cheerful and exuberant.  I am still sleepy.  When I went outside to bring the garbage to the curb, two dead maggots decorated the top of the can.  I would have gagged but I was too sleepy.  Snails or slugs had decorated the top of the can with dew drops.  I was impressed.

My young son told me that his back hurt.  He said the same thing yesterday after he came in from playing.  I told him that if he can go outside and ride his bike and play with a hurt back, he can go to school.  He does that sometimes...I used to do that when I was a kid.  I would try to stay home from school.  I liked school though.  He does too.

I am living.  Today.  I want a cup of coffee but I will wait until it's time to go to my meeting.  I like sitting there and sipping on coffee while we talk about what ails us.  I don't care anymore about what I say on my blog.  I am tired of hearing people rant about political issues and lying in their rants.
I guess they're lying. Maybe they think they are telling the truth...who knows?

If you say something that's not true and you think it is, that is denial. Denial is the process of lying to yourself as well as everyone else.

We are a nation in denial. The United States is sick.  When patients who are in denial wait until their disease is so advanced that they have to go to the doctor  they have decrease their chances of survival. Markedly. 
I mean what I say.