Rest and space work miracles. But are miracles always welcome? I mean, I suppose one could say that Jesus was a miracle, but I'm sure Mary didn't always think, "Man am I lucky?" because if I was a 13 year old pregnant chick in Ancient Israel, "lucky me" would not be my first thought.
I have lots of space, mostly because I have my own apartment, which I will post pictures of as soon as I have finished painting my bathroom. I work from home so I am alone a lot. My boyfriend is in residency so I am... well... alone a lot. And there is a lot of room for recovery.
I think recovery takes motivation. I have determination and always have had, but determination only gets me so far. This was true in the last dark time (November 2003 - August 2004), and it was true this dark time (lasting so long that it still feels that it is normal, and this new not so dark time is not normal). I don't even know if I want to call this recovery, or just lightening. Anyway, I've got motivation. Her name is my future, and she's become less elusive the more I talk about her with someone else. It's sometimes terrifying and sometimes lovely.
The point of all of this is that I have unused Stamina. I also cry a lot because I have abandonment issues, but I think that's just normal. Unused Stamina means that I am bored. Like really really bored. I want more out of this life. So I'm working harder than before...not more necessarily... just harder. At the same boring job. It's not hard work, but I'm working hard at it.
Unused Stamina makes me feel tired and hopeless. But I'm neither tired nor hopeless. I'm just bored. I'm all done with this. I want that life we talk about, but I have no idea how to get there. So I'm working harder, thinking that if this is possible, hard work will somehow get me where we've talked about being. How do you use your Stamina?
In the last 3 years, I've used mine on death and cancer and falling in love and travel and becoming an adult and although that's not all done, its not taking all this effort anymore. Now I need something else for stamina. Last time I had a surplus I went to school. So stamina surplus what will I do with you?
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Cleaning up
Last night Lillian and I cleaned out our old apartment for the last time, in preparation for our walk through today. I expected to be nostalgic and I was a little, but not like I usually am when I leave "home". As I said to Lillian last night, I am going to miss only 1 thing about that place and Lillian is it. Two years with this girl was awesome. She rocks my world and we laugh so much. I will miss seeing her every day.
Bringing the final remnants of my old house into my new house was odd. It was all that stuff I'd rather forget about than acknowledge. So now I have more cleaning up to do. That is certainly not the end of the world, because I now I have Friday night off, because boyfriend changed date night to Saturday night, so I'm going to clean up my new apartment and get it ready to be visited by a very good friend and maybe her precious daughter.
This is all pretty great. pretty great.
PS. I bought running shoes.
Bringing the final remnants of my old house into my new house was odd. It was all that stuff I'd rather forget about than acknowledge. So now I have more cleaning up to do. That is certainly not the end of the world, because I now I have Friday night off, because boyfriend changed date night to Saturday night, so I'm going to clean up my new apartment and get it ready to be visited by a very good friend and maybe her precious daughter.
This is all pretty great. pretty great.
PS. I bought running shoes.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Making home
I am in love with my new apartment. I have so many plans for the space, and so many ideas about how I will live here. I love love love it. When I moved in it was immediately obvious that the landlord had done absolutely nothing to make the apartment any cleaner than it was when the previous tenant left. They were not planning paint the dirty walls, or cleaning the nasty kitchen floor, or wash the bird poop covered windows. They were not going to replace the burn in the carpet or even clean (or vacuum) the carpet, or even rid the shower stall of some mildew. So I have my work cut out for me. Some of this is already taken care of... some of it is still to come.
Changes coming up...
1. There is a yellow wall in the living room, which matches the yellow in the bathroom. Both will be painted a light greenish blue that matches my living room lamps and bathroom floor rugs. It will be lovely.
2. Blinds in my room. Currently there is no covering on the window in my bedroom, but I purchased blinds today that match my bedside tables.
3. Blinds in the kitchen. There is also no window covering in the kitchen. I wouldn't normally care about that, but I'd like to get something to block out the heat and the sun. Since my apartment is on the 3 floor of a 3 floor building and has eastern facing windows, it can get relatively warm in there. I wanted to go with curtains, but the ones I liked for the kitchen wouldn't keep out the heat.
4. I need to hang all of my art. So far the Naked Lady has gone up, and of course the first thing to go up was my crucifix, but everything else is still leaning against walls. I haven't decided where everything will go yet. All the furniture is in place, but now I need to arrange and decorate my walls - after I wash them of course.
5. I have to finish lining my shelves with new contact paper, the gripping kind. I like the gripping kind.
6. I need to clean my carpets with a carpet cleaner... you know.. the kind you rent at the grocery store.
7. I need to grocery shop... to fill my new cupboards with lovely food.
I am also making myself at home with this whole residency thing. Well mostly, I should say my boyfriend is freaking fabulous and is doing everything he can to make this seem normal and easy for me. And it's working. It doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore. I know we'll make it and that is wonderful.
PS. My birthday is in just 10 days. I'm pretty excited about that.
Changes coming up...
1. There is a yellow wall in the living room, which matches the yellow in the bathroom. Both will be painted a light greenish blue that matches my living room lamps and bathroom floor rugs. It will be lovely.
2. Blinds in my room. Currently there is no covering on the window in my bedroom, but I purchased blinds today that match my bedside tables.
3. Blinds in the kitchen. There is also no window covering in the kitchen. I wouldn't normally care about that, but I'd like to get something to block out the heat and the sun. Since my apartment is on the 3 floor of a 3 floor building and has eastern facing windows, it can get relatively warm in there. I wanted to go with curtains, but the ones I liked for the kitchen wouldn't keep out the heat.
4. I need to hang all of my art. So far the Naked Lady has gone up, and of course the first thing to go up was my crucifix, but everything else is still leaning against walls. I haven't decided where everything will go yet. All the furniture is in place, but now I need to arrange and decorate my walls - after I wash them of course.
5. I have to finish lining my shelves with new contact paper, the gripping kind. I like the gripping kind.
6. I need to clean my carpets with a carpet cleaner... you know.. the kind you rent at the grocery store.
7. I need to grocery shop... to fill my new cupboards with lovely food.
I am also making myself at home with this whole residency thing. Well mostly, I should say my boyfriend is freaking fabulous and is doing everything he can to make this seem normal and easy for me. And it's working. It doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore. I know we'll make it and that is wonderful.
PS. My birthday is in just 10 days. I'm pretty excited about that.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Residency and the worst ideas ever...
Ananth started residency today. I am feeling better already, mostly because I'm not dreading it starting anymore. Now I'm just living in it. For example, I will not see my wonderful boyfriend until Friday... or maybe Saturday... or maybe not. Nothing is absolute anymore. However, I am confident that I will not see him this week, so instead of dreading next week, I can put my efforts into working hard this week, so that this weekend I can focus on moving out of my apartment and hopefully seeing my boyfriend. So this is easier than last week. I don't feel like crying every moment.
There are bad ideas that accompany missing your boyfriend. For example (it's an examply kind of day): Facebook stalking him. Today I learned that all of the women my boyfriend has been in a relationship with since 2006 were gorgeous blondes. Note to the blogger world: I am not a gorgeous blond. And I'm a little fat. I am generally not the girl that feel unworthy or less beautiful. I am very pretty. And I have lots of great qualities. And my boyfriend picked me. I know he likes me. etc. But I will admit, I've never questioned my own beauty more than I am today after finding out just how pretty my boyfriend's ex's are. I am not upset. And I don't want to cry. Really I just feel ridiculous. And stupid. I did this to myself. It was admittedly a very bad idea.
Worse still than the idea to facebook stalk my boyfriend and by extension his ex girlfriends, is the idea to take in my father for a few weeks while his apartment gets ready. My father has put down a deposit on a place, and will eventually get in, but probably not until the beginning of July. So my very alcoholic, ornery, and sometime just down right obnoxious father is going to stay with me. While I pack and move. Did I mention that I work from home?
Overall I really want it to be like July 7th. On July 7th, it will be almost my birthday (and incidentally my sister in laws birthday), my father won't be here anymore, and I will be (hopefully) used to not seeing my boyfriend for weeks on end. Oh. And I will be in my new apartment.
PS I am pretty sure my boyfriend is getting me a Wii for my birthday. He really needs to work on this whole "surprise" thing. I love surprises. He is very bad at them.
There are bad ideas that accompany missing your boyfriend. For example (it's an examply kind of day): Facebook stalking him. Today I learned that all of the women my boyfriend has been in a relationship with since 2006 were gorgeous blondes. Note to the blogger world: I am not a gorgeous blond. And I'm a little fat. I am generally not the girl that feel unworthy or less beautiful. I am very pretty. And I have lots of great qualities. And my boyfriend picked me. I know he likes me. etc. But I will admit, I've never questioned my own beauty more than I am today after finding out just how pretty my boyfriend's ex's are. I am not upset. And I don't want to cry. Really I just feel ridiculous. And stupid. I did this to myself. It was admittedly a very bad idea.
Worse still than the idea to facebook stalk my boyfriend and by extension his ex girlfriends, is the idea to take in my father for a few weeks while his apartment gets ready. My father has put down a deposit on a place, and will eventually get in, but probably not until the beginning of July. So my very alcoholic, ornery, and sometime just down right obnoxious father is going to stay with me. While I pack and move. Did I mention that I work from home?
Overall I really want it to be like July 7th. On July 7th, it will be almost my birthday (and incidentally my sister in laws birthday), my father won't be here anymore, and I will be (hopefully) used to not seeing my boyfriend for weeks on end. Oh. And I will be in my new apartment.
PS I am pretty sure my boyfriend is getting me a Wii for my birthday. He really needs to work on this whole "surprise" thing. I love surprises. He is very bad at them.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Transition
I go back to work today after 2 days of vacation and a lot of time with the boyfriend. We had a great time and I am so very happy that we got the opportunity to spend some solid time together before he starts residency next week.
I am terrible at change. TERRIBLE. The last 3 months have been building up to this week for me. This one last week before my relationship wanders casually into the "unknown". I absolutely know that I am going to be okay and that my relationship is going to be fine, but I must admit that I am terrified of being left. If there is one thing I could really despise my father for it is this wretched abandonment issue.
I am really proud of myself though, because even though I cried like a little girl saying goodbye to him last night, I didn't ask him to stay and I wanted him to go. I wanted him to take care of himself. And I recognized that I was just sad and a little scared. I felt like I was saying goodbye. I wasn't trying to manipulate, which I have done before in other relationships.
I'm mostly a happy camper, because I have a new apartment and a wonderful boyfriend and a job. And even though making all those things work in the next few weeks is overwhelming, I don't want to give up on them and I cherish them. And I'm happy that these things are not death and illness like they were last year.
So here we go change and transition. Let's do this.
I am terrible at change. TERRIBLE. The last 3 months have been building up to this week for me. This one last week before my relationship wanders casually into the "unknown". I absolutely know that I am going to be okay and that my relationship is going to be fine, but I must admit that I am terrified of being left. If there is one thing I could really despise my father for it is this wretched abandonment issue.
I am really proud of myself though, because even though I cried like a little girl saying goodbye to him last night, I didn't ask him to stay and I wanted him to go. I wanted him to take care of himself. And I recognized that I was just sad and a little scared. I felt like I was saying goodbye. I wasn't trying to manipulate, which I have done before in other relationships.
I'm mostly a happy camper, because I have a new apartment and a wonderful boyfriend and a job. And even though making all those things work in the next few weeks is overwhelming, I don't want to give up on them and I cherish them. And I'm happy that these things are not death and illness like they were last year.
So here we go change and transition. Let's do this.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Selling my soul
Dear World,
I feel cynical today. A little snarky. I want to talk trash. Instead I have a conference call with my boss where I must be bright and cheery or she will not believe that I am committed to the company's core values. Since when is cheeriness a core value?
I am in the mood to clean things. So I cleaned my apartment. But now there is nothing left to clean, so I'm going to organize my bills. That's gross. I'm thinking about making a spreadsheet for them, but that seems like a waste of time. I want to color code it and have it link to my calendar with sparkling timers of joy that go off every time something is due to be paid, which will erupt into fireworks of congratulations when I actually pay something off. I wish fireworks would go off every time I paid a bill. I would be so much more motivated to pay my bills early, instead of just on time.
I bought new shoes, but they are not summer shoes. They are fall shoes. So I don't think I can bring myself to wear them yet. But they are very cute.
Last night boyfriend was not on the same page as me. I wanted to play games and have fun. He wanted to be quiet and cuddle.
Ugh the boss is calling.
I feel cynical today. A little snarky. I want to talk trash. Instead I have a conference call with my boss where I must be bright and cheery or she will not believe that I am committed to the company's core values. Since when is cheeriness a core value?
I am in the mood to clean things. So I cleaned my apartment. But now there is nothing left to clean, so I'm going to organize my bills. That's gross. I'm thinking about making a spreadsheet for them, but that seems like a waste of time. I want to color code it and have it link to my calendar with sparkling timers of joy that go off every time something is due to be paid, which will erupt into fireworks of congratulations when I actually pay something off. I wish fireworks would go off every time I paid a bill. I would be so much more motivated to pay my bills early, instead of just on time.
I bought new shoes, but they are not summer shoes. They are fall shoes. So I don't think I can bring myself to wear them yet. But they are very cute.
Last night boyfriend was not on the same page as me. I wanted to play games and have fun. He wanted to be quiet and cuddle.
Ugh the boss is calling.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
13 minutes
I haven't been writing because I haven't felt inspired to do so. But I have 13 minutes, and I've just finished catching up the bloggerina I am most dedicated to, so I feel amply filled with enough vocabulary to do justice to my current life.
I can't say the words I want to lately. They are bottled up neatly within me and they are terrifying words. They are words I have to wait to say because of the rules that bind my heart and soul. I won't even let myself write them for fear that writing them will loose my tongue and I will break the rules. I'm terrible at keeping secrets. Even my own.
I now have 10 minutes. 10 minutes until HE arrives to pick me up and take me to my favorite couple's house for games and nosh and wine. Doesn't that night sound fabulous? And it will be. My favorite couple, are part Garreth and part Danny, who does not have a blog that I am aware of but who is my constant hero.
7 minutes (I was interrupted by a question from an employee). 7 minutes to discuss that I am overwhelmingly happy in my life. I am searching for apartments, succeeding at work, and falling constantly for this guy. But I feel that it will all tip at any moment and all come crashing down around me. I am frantically trying to perfect all those things that are currently imperfect before they have a chance to ruin my now nearly perfect life. Never before have I feared doom like I do now. I dread its inevitableness (did you even know that was a word?).
4 minutes. 4 minutes to tell you that I am at peace with where I am and the choices I am making. I have peace about it for today. I love it for today, but now, somehow, I am worried that I will not be happy with these choice when I look at them five years from now. The permanence of my decisions and how they can affect my soul hereafter is so much more present than it has been in the past.
1 minute. 1 minute to run off because my make up needs applying. 1 minute to say I love you. because I can say it here. to you.
I can't say the words I want to lately. They are bottled up neatly within me and they are terrifying words. They are words I have to wait to say because of the rules that bind my heart and soul. I won't even let myself write them for fear that writing them will loose my tongue and I will break the rules. I'm terrible at keeping secrets. Even my own.
I now have 10 minutes. 10 minutes until HE arrives to pick me up and take me to my favorite couple's house for games and nosh and wine. Doesn't that night sound fabulous? And it will be. My favorite couple, are part Garreth and part Danny, who does not have a blog that I am aware of but who is my constant hero.
7 minutes (I was interrupted by a question from an employee). 7 minutes to discuss that I am overwhelmingly happy in my life. I am searching for apartments, succeeding at work, and falling constantly for this guy. But I feel that it will all tip at any moment and all come crashing down around me. I am frantically trying to perfect all those things that are currently imperfect before they have a chance to ruin my now nearly perfect life. Never before have I feared doom like I do now. I dread its inevitableness (did you even know that was a word?).
4 minutes. 4 minutes to tell you that I am at peace with where I am and the choices I am making. I have peace about it for today. I love it for today, but now, somehow, I am worried that I will not be happy with these choice when I look at them five years from now. The permanence of my decisions and how they can affect my soul hereafter is so much more present than it has been in the past.
1 minute. 1 minute to run off because my make up needs applying. 1 minute to say I love you. because I can say it here. to you.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Redding
I am in Redding.
This is so bizarre. Last night I saw an old friend and found her to be much like me - at least in how things have changed. Life happened in the two years since I last saw her and an even more calming maturity has settled on her. And exciting times are happening for her and it was wonderful to reunite just now.
However, I am now sharing a hotel room with my loveliest of roommates, which is strange for many reasons:
1. I am in a hotel room in Redding. I'm not staying with a friend. I spent 3 years of my life here. Once upon a time I knew people here very intimately. Now, I just a stranger, a guest, a traveller. Now I stay in hotels.
2. My roommate also lived here once, but after me. She was here for just a few months. But I know there is some strangeness for her too. I am glad we are here together. (I love my roommate.)
3. The last time I staid in this hotel, I was 18 and playing Volleyball for Multnomah.
Today I will attend a Simpson University graduation ceremony. My lovely young mentee, Jenny Lawler, will walk across the stage and receive the degree that took her 5 years to earn. She will be a college graduate and I am so ridiculously proud of her.
I did not spend time thinking, before this very morning, how it would feel to be in Redding and how it would feel to be at yet another Simpson Graduation. The last one I went to was my own. I will see professors, and friends and people I haven't seen or talked to in 4 years. And then I must come to grips with the fact that the life I lived here was 4 years ago.
Last night Katie and I talked about Andrew... and I realized that the last time she heard me talk about him, I still had not yet processed much of our relationship. I also had not yet felt settled and secure enough about my opinions about my life and the world to be able to unapologetically explain where I am coming from and who I am. Last night was refreshing. I am not afraid of my life. I am, however, afraid of today.
Here is my saving grace: This day is so not about me and the people I might bump into. It is about Jenni Lawler and her huge achievement. It is about being here with her and with people I love who have loved me my entire life. It is about being that friend, that adult, that person that can look at this girl whom I have loved my entire life and being glowingly proud of how amazing she is. So I will likely bump into people. But who cares. I am me and I am not afraid of my life.
I remain. I am still here.
And in 4 hours I will be with Julie.
This is so bizarre. Last night I saw an old friend and found her to be much like me - at least in how things have changed. Life happened in the two years since I last saw her and an even more calming maturity has settled on her. And exciting times are happening for her and it was wonderful to reunite just now.
However, I am now sharing a hotel room with my loveliest of roommates, which is strange for many reasons:
1. I am in a hotel room in Redding. I'm not staying with a friend. I spent 3 years of my life here. Once upon a time I knew people here very intimately. Now, I just a stranger, a guest, a traveller. Now I stay in hotels.
2. My roommate also lived here once, but after me. She was here for just a few months. But I know there is some strangeness for her too. I am glad we are here together. (I love my roommate.)
3. The last time I staid in this hotel, I was 18 and playing Volleyball for Multnomah.
Today I will attend a Simpson University graduation ceremony. My lovely young mentee, Jenny Lawler, will walk across the stage and receive the degree that took her 5 years to earn. She will be a college graduate and I am so ridiculously proud of her.
I did not spend time thinking, before this very morning, how it would feel to be in Redding and how it would feel to be at yet another Simpson Graduation. The last one I went to was my own. I will see professors, and friends and people I haven't seen or talked to in 4 years. And then I must come to grips with the fact that the life I lived here was 4 years ago.
Last night Katie and I talked about Andrew... and I realized that the last time she heard me talk about him, I still had not yet processed much of our relationship. I also had not yet felt settled and secure enough about my opinions about my life and the world to be able to unapologetically explain where I am coming from and who I am. Last night was refreshing. I am not afraid of my life. I am, however, afraid of today.
Here is my saving grace: This day is so not about me and the people I might bump into. It is about Jenni Lawler and her huge achievement. It is about being here with her and with people I love who have loved me my entire life. It is about being that friend, that adult, that person that can look at this girl whom I have loved my entire life and being glowingly proud of how amazing she is. So I will likely bump into people. But who cares. I am me and I am not afraid of my life.
I remain. I am still here.
And in 4 hours I will be with Julie.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Cancer Rant
Facebook has it's pros and cons. One con that typically pisses me off is the status posting in which people try to repost statuses (stati?) for certain causes.
For Example: All of us have thousands of wishes. To be thinner, to be bigger, have more money, have a cool car, a day off, a new phone, to date the person of your dreams. A cancer patient only has one wish, to kick cancer's ass. I know that 97% of you won't post this as your status, but my friends will be the 3% that do. In honor of someone who died or is fighting cancer, or even had cancer, please repost
May I just say this: Cancer does not make other wishes and dreams go away. It's not like the minute you get cancer your life goals and hopes go out the window. Or like Cancer Patients cease to be people and suddenly only live the life of Cancer. I want to post a rebuttal, but am not witty enough to say all of this in a couple of lines of text that will somehow shut up the people that just want to post and repost about how they know someone who has cancer and wishes they could beat it.
On that note, two new polyps showed up in daddy's stomach. The testing shows that they are benign, but we are supposed to keep watching them over time. I'm not worried. I mean, this is really no big deal... just some bumps that aren't going to grow and damage him. But, there are moments when I think it's all got to come back eventually. Other moments I just think the post cancer care will be a part of my life forever and ever. That is almost as depressing.
Mom is doing well. It's almost like she doesn't have cancer, except that I worry about her all the time. And the part where she needs to spend my wedding money on things like paying cancer bills. I wish I could just find a way to make all of the family take care of each other. If only their lives weren't so important and I could just manage the lives of everyone. I am pretty sure we would all be happy with the outcome.
Alas. I can't fix any of this.
For Example: All of us have thousands of wishes. To be thinner, to be bigger, have more money, have a cool car, a day off, a new phone, to date the person of your dreams. A cancer patient only has one wish, to kick cancer's ass. I know that 97% of you won't post this as your status, but my friends will be the 3% that do. In honor of someone who died or is fighting cancer, or even had cancer, please repost
May I just say this: Cancer does not make other wishes and dreams go away. It's not like the minute you get cancer your life goals and hopes go out the window. Or like Cancer Patients cease to be people and suddenly only live the life of Cancer. I want to post a rebuttal, but am not witty enough to say all of this in a couple of lines of text that will somehow shut up the people that just want to post and repost about how they know someone who has cancer and wishes they could beat it.
On that note, two new polyps showed up in daddy's stomach. The testing shows that they are benign, but we are supposed to keep watching them over time. I'm not worried. I mean, this is really no big deal... just some bumps that aren't going to grow and damage him. But, there are moments when I think it's all got to come back eventually. Other moments I just think the post cancer care will be a part of my life forever and ever. That is almost as depressing.
Mom is doing well. It's almost like she doesn't have cancer, except that I worry about her all the time. And the part where she needs to spend my wedding money on things like paying cancer bills. I wish I could just find a way to make all of the family take care of each other. If only their lives weren't so important and I could just manage the lives of everyone. I am pretty sure we would all be happy with the outcome.
Alas. I can't fix any of this.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Communication Station
Communicating has its difficult and easy moments for me. I think for most people. I am really good at communicating when I have boundaries and expectations. I get really bad at communicating when I don't.
For example, I am perfectly fine not talking to someone if I know that we aren't going to talk that day. However, if I think we are going to talk, and we don't, I get very emotional very very fast.
It's kind of ridiculous really, because although my head is saying to me, "Rebecca, this is not a big deal. Really, there are so many rational explanations. This does not mean you are not wanted or unimportant." my heart is saying to me, "You are entirely rejected and unwanted. Run and hide now before this hurts even more than it already does. GO NOW!!!" So I sit and cry and laugh at myself at the same time, and try to make myself breath, although breathing, much like drinking water when I need to vomit, only makes matters worse.
This week has been a practice in figuring out my side of communication needs.
I need:
to know when we aren't going to talk and why
to know what style of communication (email, gchat, in person, phone, etc) is acceptable for which conversations
to remember that my needs are okay and not always ridiculous
to know that needing does not make me needy
In a "Love Languages" perspective, I am very much a Quality Time and a Words of Encouragement person. I love presents, but only because they are surprises and I naturally love surprise, but for me it's really about being known, and I don't often believe you can know me without tons of experience (time) and then I won't know that you know me unless you tell me (words). I feel silly most of the time admitting that. But it's true.
I think a lot of my insecurity surrounding communication and needing links back to my abandonment issues. My dad left when I was so young, and in a much different and yet startlingly related sense, my own dear and lovely mother abandoned me right after high school. Waiting for someone to show up always brings up the picture of me, somewhere around 10, sitting on the couch in front of our living room window, facing the street in front of our house. I would kneel backwards on the couch so I could see the street and every car that went by. There I would stay all day and far into the evening waiting for my father to show up... he would call, and I would have the phone there next to me so I wouldn't have to move to answer it. Again and again he would say, "I'll be there soon, baby." And again and again I would believe him. And again and again he would not come. And my heart would break again and again.
It's hard for that little girl in my head, sitting on the couch, waiting for you, to remember that if you don't show up, you aren't abandoning me. It's a hard lesson every single time I have to relearn it. And lately I am relearning it with alarming rapidity.
So tonight I am going out with a special girlie who always has the knack of making me happy again, and I'm going to forget about communication for a while.
For example, I am perfectly fine not talking to someone if I know that we aren't going to talk that day. However, if I think we are going to talk, and we don't, I get very emotional very very fast.
It's kind of ridiculous really, because although my head is saying to me, "Rebecca, this is not a big deal. Really, there are so many rational explanations. This does not mean you are not wanted or unimportant." my heart is saying to me, "You are entirely rejected and unwanted. Run and hide now before this hurts even more than it already does. GO NOW!!!" So I sit and cry and laugh at myself at the same time, and try to make myself breath, although breathing, much like drinking water when I need to vomit, only makes matters worse.
This week has been a practice in figuring out my side of communication needs.
I need:
to know when we aren't going to talk and why
to know what style of communication (email, gchat, in person, phone, etc) is acceptable for which conversations
to remember that my needs are okay and not always ridiculous
to know that needing does not make me needy
In a "Love Languages" perspective, I am very much a Quality Time and a Words of Encouragement person. I love presents, but only because they are surprises and I naturally love surprise, but for me it's really about being known, and I don't often believe you can know me without tons of experience (time) and then I won't know that you know me unless you tell me (words). I feel silly most of the time admitting that. But it's true.
I think a lot of my insecurity surrounding communication and needing links back to my abandonment issues. My dad left when I was so young, and in a much different and yet startlingly related sense, my own dear and lovely mother abandoned me right after high school. Waiting for someone to show up always brings up the picture of me, somewhere around 10, sitting on the couch in front of our living room window, facing the street in front of our house. I would kneel backwards on the couch so I could see the street and every car that went by. There I would stay all day and far into the evening waiting for my father to show up... he would call, and I would have the phone there next to me so I wouldn't have to move to answer it. Again and again he would say, "I'll be there soon, baby." And again and again I would believe him. And again and again he would not come. And my heart would break again and again.
It's hard for that little girl in my head, sitting on the couch, waiting for you, to remember that if you don't show up, you aren't abandoning me. It's a hard lesson every single time I have to relearn it. And lately I am relearning it with alarming rapidity.
So tonight I am going out with a special girlie who always has the knack of making me happy again, and I'm going to forget about communication for a while.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Falling in and out of love
I am falling out of love with my job. It's an enlightening experience regarding love in general. I still recognize all of the things I love about my job, but the things I hate cloud my vision all of the time and take away all of my motivation to continue to build any sort of life for myself here. I want a new job, not because I hate what I do, but because I want a fresh breath. I want to feel revitalized. I want to believe in people again.
I am, however, not falling out of love with love. I am falling in love with love. I cannot say that I love my boyfriend, because I'm not there yet, but I can tell you that I am falling in love with falling in love. I know that my feelings for him are growing and I adore this process. Even the hard days like today, when all I want is to talk to him about a pressing issue which he has clearly said we will not talk about until we are together tomorrow instead of talking about it on the phone or gchat today, which I would prefer just to get it out of the way and off of my list of things to worry about. Even then, I still know that I love falling for him. I love that every time I close my browser and see his face on my background, I smile because I just adore him.
See:
I am also falling in love with the process of figuring out what I am going to do with myself when he starts residency. Right now, the only thing to do is to start school again. Grad school? Maybe... right now I just want to take a class or two and just figure out where I want to be. What do I want to study. Right now I know that I want to be in Grad School in the next two years. Right now, I don't think I want to leave Seattle, but maybe I will change my mind. So I'm looking at summer classes and fall classes that I can take in the evening to start making up my mind about my future. Without Grandpa here to tell me his opinion, I have a lot of work to do to figure out what I want and who I am.
But love is there... to lift us up where we belong. or something like that.
I am, however, not falling out of love with love. I am falling in love with love. I cannot say that I love my boyfriend, because I'm not there yet, but I can tell you that I am falling in love with falling in love. I know that my feelings for him are growing and I adore this process. Even the hard days like today, when all I want is to talk to him about a pressing issue which he has clearly said we will not talk about until we are together tomorrow instead of talking about it on the phone or gchat today, which I would prefer just to get it out of the way and off of my list of things to worry about. Even then, I still know that I love falling for him. I love that every time I close my browser and see his face on my background, I smile because I just adore him.
See:
I am also falling in love with the process of figuring out what I am going to do with myself when he starts residency. Right now, the only thing to do is to start school again. Grad school? Maybe... right now I just want to take a class or two and just figure out where I want to be. What do I want to study. Right now I know that I want to be in Grad School in the next two years. Right now, I don't think I want to leave Seattle, but maybe I will change my mind. So I'm looking at summer classes and fall classes that I can take in the evening to start making up my mind about my future. Without Grandpa here to tell me his opinion, I have a lot of work to do to figure out what I want and who I am.
But love is there... to lift us up where we belong. or something like that.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Things you should know...
There are people I truly admire from afar. I don't talk about them, but I web stalk them like there is no tomorrow. For example, there is a Ms.Umberdove, whom I really think everyone should try to emulate. Not only is she gorgeous, and ridiculously brave, she is conscientious and fastidious and really a whole lot of fun. She makes things. And she made me two things that sit on my bed, adorning my lovely creamy bed spread with just the right hints of blue that tie so nicely to the painting that hangs above. And all I had to do was tell her a color and off she went to create majesty. Really... you should know her. The point, though, in telling you about her was because she is making some really remarkable things right now... which you should totally check out at her blog. Right now.
I have discovered that I am a cheesy girl that loves romance. Which is rather surprising. And I love to cuddle and be held... again surprising. I haven't liked these things before, but now... oh now.... they seem like special treats to be so very dearly treasured. And may I just tell you that being asked out on a date by your boyfriend is so much more exciting than I ever thought it would be.
Likewise, I have decided that this whole loss of identity thing when Grandpa died, is still with me. I mean, I guess I've just recognized it again. Still I want him here. I want him to see and know me again. I want his input on my life and his blessing on my decisions. I want to hear his voice call me "Baby" just one more time. I wasn't ready, am not ready, to get over this... still.
Rest is hard to come by and when it comes I am having the most difficult time turning it down. I don't know exactly what to do about that because I find myself not accomplishing as much these days because I am reveling in my alone time, in my down time, in my reading time, in any time I can have to do as I choose. I don't know why this is. Usually I am so super motivated to do everything I need to do in order fulfill not only my social obligations but also my social desires... but lately... I'm just not.
So that's all for today. Again... Check out the Umberdove.... at www.umberdove.com
I have discovered that I am a cheesy girl that loves romance. Which is rather surprising. And I love to cuddle and be held... again surprising. I haven't liked these things before, but now... oh now.... they seem like special treats to be so very dearly treasured. And may I just tell you that being asked out on a date by your boyfriend is so much more exciting than I ever thought it would be.
Likewise, I have decided that this whole loss of identity thing when Grandpa died, is still with me. I mean, I guess I've just recognized it again. Still I want him here. I want him to see and know me again. I want his input on my life and his blessing on my decisions. I want to hear his voice call me "Baby" just one more time. I wasn't ready, am not ready, to get over this... still.
Rest is hard to come by and when it comes I am having the most difficult time turning it down. I don't know exactly what to do about that because I find myself not accomplishing as much these days because I am reveling in my alone time, in my down time, in my reading time, in any time I can have to do as I choose. I don't know why this is. Usually I am so super motivated to do everything I need to do in order fulfill not only my social obligations but also my social desires... but lately... I'm just not.
So that's all for today. Again... Check out the Umberdove.... at www.umberdove.com
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Practically Peaceful
It's been a week since I last saw my boyfriend, or Scrubs, as we are now supposed to be calling him. A week was supposed to be easy. And it wasn't terribly difficult, but it is now, 36 hours before I will actually see him, wretched. I'm a little frustrated with myself.
I am a fairly independent person. I did singleness very very well... and I liked it, A LOT! I thought a week would be like peanut butter and jelly, a great way to nourish my soul without being difficult to prepare for. I was wrong.
On Thursday we got good news. Scrubs will be staying in Seattle for his residency. See there was chance that he would get into a hospital program somewhere far away (or close by but still not Seattle). I was ready for that, for the possibility of long distance or of moving. But somehow having him stay is just as hard. Now I know he will be here, but I still won't be able to see him. And then I realize I still have my own life to live.
See, I really like this guy. He looks good on me. He suits me. And so a big part of me wants to let him consume my life. But that can't happen, either practically or rationally. I have to have my own life, because he has to have his own life. Residency will be long and hard. But also, I need to maintain my independence, because I've been swallowed by a relationship before, and by the time I discovered it, the only way I knew to fix it was to get out. And I don't want to do that this time.
So I am working on continuing to live my life. This means that I have to continue to find change. I have to continue to look for a new job and apply and find my own happiness, because even though I find immense happiness in Scrubs, he won't often be around. So I still have a life to build, and ironically, more impetus to actually build it.
This is a wonderful Sunday Morning Exultation. The sun is shining, my heart is beaming, and I get to go see my sister. My life is waiting for me outside that door. And tomorrow when I finally see this wonderful man, I will be happy to see him because he is him, and not because he is me. And that just so totally rocks.
I am a fairly independent person. I did singleness very very well... and I liked it, A LOT! I thought a week would be like peanut butter and jelly, a great way to nourish my soul without being difficult to prepare for. I was wrong.
On Thursday we got good news. Scrubs will be staying in Seattle for his residency. See there was chance that he would get into a hospital program somewhere far away (or close by but still not Seattle). I was ready for that, for the possibility of long distance or of moving. But somehow having him stay is just as hard. Now I know he will be here, but I still won't be able to see him. And then I realize I still have my own life to live.
See, I really like this guy. He looks good on me. He suits me. And so a big part of me wants to let him consume my life. But that can't happen, either practically or rationally. I have to have my own life, because he has to have his own life. Residency will be long and hard. But also, I need to maintain my independence, because I've been swallowed by a relationship before, and by the time I discovered it, the only way I knew to fix it was to get out. And I don't want to do that this time.
So I am working on continuing to live my life. This means that I have to continue to find change. I have to continue to look for a new job and apply and find my own happiness, because even though I find immense happiness in Scrubs, he won't often be around. So I still have a life to build, and ironically, more impetus to actually build it.
This is a wonderful Sunday Morning Exultation. The sun is shining, my heart is beaming, and I get to go see my sister. My life is waiting for me outside that door. And tomorrow when I finally see this wonderful man, I will be happy to see him because he is him, and not because he is me. And that just so totally rocks.
Monday, March 14, 2011
For reals
Dating for reals is so very different than dating for fun. It's way more fun... but it takes SO much more energy. Feeling this much this often might eventually drive me crazy.
I'm feeling less afraid. Still nervous often and still often scared, but so much less so. I just have to keep breathing and keep processing. It's a lot of work. I can't believe how much more sleep I need now. It's a little ridiculous.
But this guy is pretty great. Lillian chose his name. Scrubs. Cause then he has a theme song, "I'm no Superman..." and because he is a doctor. He's a doctor. I like that part.
I still don't know what I'm doing with someone so much more emotionally advanced than I am. We don't match. From the outside I look good. I dress well, I am overly confident, I have it all. He is quiet and serious and a complete nerd. But on the inside I am huge mess and fall apart all over the place. I'm not well put together or confident at all. He is all put together and knows exactly what he is doing. On the inside he's the cool kid and I am the shy and quiet nerd.
It's a little surreal. Cause I have a boyfriend. And I like him a lot.
I'm feeling less afraid. Still nervous often and still often scared, but so much less so. I just have to keep breathing and keep processing. It's a lot of work. I can't believe how much more sleep I need now. It's a little ridiculous.
But this guy is pretty great. Lillian chose his name. Scrubs. Cause then he has a theme song, "I'm no Superman..." and because he is a doctor. He's a doctor. I like that part.
I still don't know what I'm doing with someone so much more emotionally advanced than I am. We don't match. From the outside I look good. I dress well, I am overly confident, I have it all. He is quiet and serious and a complete nerd. But on the inside I am huge mess and fall apart all over the place. I'm not well put together or confident at all. He is all put together and knows exactly what he is doing. On the inside he's the cool kid and I am the shy and quiet nerd.
It's a little surreal. Cause I have a boyfriend. And I like him a lot.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Well I guess I did it...
Terrifyingly enough I met a boy and we are something. I don't know exactly what we are, because I don't care much for labels and so until he labels it, I'm certainly not going to. Even typing this makes me feel sick to my stomach with fear and joy.
So Boy is wonderful. Exactly as wonderful as I knew he would be. But I am terrified. And I'm going to have to tell him. And should I even be blogging about this since he may find my blog? Probably not, but oh well because let's face it, I blog about everything. Mostly, I think I am just afraid of being that person again... like I was with Andrew. The one who eats and destroys the souls of men who love her... yeah that one. I don't want to get so afraid of him becoming a part of me that I push him away. I need to CALM DOWN REBECCA! Geez. And I need to stop being so hard on myself.
Mostly, I am absolutely certain that if I am just honest with him he will make it ok. He is fabulous and I have no doubt that if I can just get over myself, calm down, and talk to him, that he will impress me yet again.
So the whole point of the post (it has rabbit trailed so so far) was to say that I was worried in not too distant posts that I wasn't capable of a relationship, but I think that's what this might be. I am proud of myself, even if it hasn't been that long. It really is scary, but he really is great.
Also, I very much need to come up with his internet name. I don't know if I'm just not feeling creative or if it just hasn't come yet. Boy is obviously not going to work. I'm going to need something more substantial.
Oh and I just remembered this. Julie asked me today, if this is what I wanted for just today. And this is absolutely what I want for today.
So Boy is wonderful. Exactly as wonderful as I knew he would be. But I am terrified. And I'm going to have to tell him. And should I even be blogging about this since he may find my blog? Probably not, but oh well because let's face it, I blog about everything. Mostly, I think I am just afraid of being that person again... like I was with Andrew. The one who eats and destroys the souls of men who love her... yeah that one. I don't want to get so afraid of him becoming a part of me that I push him away. I need to CALM DOWN REBECCA! Geez. And I need to stop being so hard on myself.
Mostly, I am absolutely certain that if I am just honest with him he will make it ok. He is fabulous and I have no doubt that if I can just get over myself, calm down, and talk to him, that he will impress me yet again.
So the whole point of the post (it has rabbit trailed so so far) was to say that I was worried in not too distant posts that I wasn't capable of a relationship, but I think that's what this might be. I am proud of myself, even if it hasn't been that long. It really is scary, but he really is great.
Also, I very much need to come up with his internet name. I don't know if I'm just not feeling creative or if it just hasn't come yet. Boy is obviously not going to work. I'm going to need something more substantial.
Oh and I just remembered this. Julie asked me today, if this is what I wanted for just today. And this is absolutely what I want for today.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
It's Bothering me.
Have you ever made a decision that you come to regret? One you could get out of, but not without hurting someone? One that when you made it was easy, no big deal, no side effects or risks? But in the end it becomes a murderous life sucking tragedy that makes you dread every moment of every day? I've made one of those decisions. And now the only choices are to suck it up and hate my life or hurt someone a lot and be happy again.
See I have this friend. He's actually a pretty great person. But we don't really get a long well. He is rude and doesn't pay attention to how he talks to people. And I am straight forward and don't let people get away with that. Except I let him get away with that. And so for months I have been storing up hate in my heart because I didn't want to say anything because I did once and his reaction was horrific and in that moment he was not a person I ever wanted to know again. So I figured as long as I didn't say anything about his moments of boarishness, he would be an okay friend. And mostly he was. But all those little moments when he wasn't became stockpiled in my soul and a few weeks ago I snapped. I broke. And then I went about the business of distancing myself because I couldn't anymore. I couldn't stockpile even one more moment. Or I would hate him forever.
But the distancing didn't work. He noticed. He called me on it. Which made me angry. He didn't say something like, "I've missed you" or "Is everything ok?" or anything of the sort. He just pushed and prodded and guilted. And I tried to ignore him and push it off and let it be casual and ok. But it wasn't. And then the dreaded topic came up. The one topic that makes me hate him every single time we discuss it. The topic that he doesn't think is personal but that kills me. The topic itself doesn't matter to me really, but his response to it and to me in it, is impossible for me.
And then I couldn't anymore. That one more moment stockpiled in my heart. And I got up and walked out on him. Then after the most horrible apology I have ever received, I did the worst thing possible. I emailed him back and ripped apart his apology. Ripped. It. Apart. Piece by ever loving piece. Because now I have to figure out what to do. I want to be able to get over this, and just be okay being myself... telling him exactly what I think when he makes me angry... except that hate kills my filter and usually I am pretty great at the filter, even while being honest. So now I am worried that I will not be nice while I am honest. and that's bad.
So I've learned that me is who I have to be. Avoiding me is a bad idea, even when I hate the consequences of me. I won't do it again.
It's still bothering me. I don't know what to do.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Be mine? Valentine?
I unabashedly hate Valentine's Day. Pretty much always have. At least since the giving and receiving of valentine's became no longer mandatory sometime around age 12. Why? Because I am single? no. I don't think that's it. The commercialization? Probably not (although it may be). Mostly it is absolutely do not do the love thing.
These past weeks have been a deep and painful insight into the depths and shallows of my soul. I have learned that I don't like love. You've heard about this, if you are up to date on the blogosphere. Here's this week's update: I have been left, rejected, abandoned, by so many significant people in my life. I don't want to willingly subject myself to that all over again. That would be silly. Classic right?
Sillier still though is the cowardice with which I approach love. I don't put myself out there. I have a wall, a lie, that keeps people from being able to hurt me, or to love me. I don't do love. That's the lie, the wall, the defense. I know we've been over this. I'm supposed to have realized, processed, moved on.
I have realized, processed, and moved on from the cause of these weeks of turmoil. But the affect, the identity, and self awareness are much more difficult to escape. I don't ask people to "Be Mine". I would never. I got pretty close once... in Alaska. And I slipped up and said, "I love you" when not in a right state of mind once, which I totally immediately took back because the Good Lord knows I didn't know what I was talking about. But I've never declared myself. Put it all out there. Taken the big jump and just gone for it. Risking my pride, my sanity, my heart and just leapt into the unknown.
I think I could though. Because getting over it can't be any harder at that point than it is at this one. So just like I can be honest about my anger, and my annoyance, and my condescension, I can be honest about my love. Because Love isn't vulnerability. Not like fear is. Love is strength.
I think I'm headed into montage stage. You know the part of every movie where you see the montage of change... but you don't really have anything on the day to report. No big victories in each day, but that period of time that just flies by and you come out different. I am ready to change colors. I'm ready for spring.
These past weeks have been a deep and painful insight into the depths and shallows of my soul. I have learned that I don't like love. You've heard about this, if you are up to date on the blogosphere. Here's this week's update: I have been left, rejected, abandoned, by so many significant people in my life. I don't want to willingly subject myself to that all over again. That would be silly. Classic right?
Sillier still though is the cowardice with which I approach love. I don't put myself out there. I have a wall, a lie, that keeps people from being able to hurt me, or to love me. I don't do love. That's the lie, the wall, the defense. I know we've been over this. I'm supposed to have realized, processed, moved on.
I have realized, processed, and moved on from the cause of these weeks of turmoil. But the affect, the identity, and self awareness are much more difficult to escape. I don't ask people to "Be Mine". I would never. I got pretty close once... in Alaska. And I slipped up and said, "I love you" when not in a right state of mind once, which I totally immediately took back because the Good Lord knows I didn't know what I was talking about. But I've never declared myself. Put it all out there. Taken the big jump and just gone for it. Risking my pride, my sanity, my heart and just leapt into the unknown.
I think I could though. Because getting over it can't be any harder at that point than it is at this one. So just like I can be honest about my anger, and my annoyance, and my condescension, I can be honest about my love. Because Love isn't vulnerability. Not like fear is. Love is strength.
I think I'm headed into montage stage. You know the part of every movie where you see the montage of change... but you don't really have anything on the day to report. No big victories in each day, but that period of time that just flies by and you come out different. I am ready to change colors. I'm ready for spring.
Monday, February 7, 2011
killing me softly...
I make it a practice to never blog about my work. Why? Because it's a bad idea. People get in a lot of trouble and sticky situations for doing such things. And my work is sticky enough all on its own.
So today I am going to say just this: I have great employees. If everyone in my company could be as great as my employees, I would have a great job.
However, if's very rarely come true.
Entirely unrelated to work, I need to just say something else. I hate it when people turn out to be really terrible. I am really terrible when it comes to certain things. Like shamefully. Like when I think about St. Peter at the gates, reading off my sins before he lets me in, I blush a little. or a lot. I don't think I will cause HIM to raise any eyebrows, because he's seen it all, but if he read it out loud, there would be a lot of eyebrow raising amongst many of my friends. Regardless though, I am still disappointed when I hear what I don't want to hear - When I hear that which takes my love of a person and makes it about them and how much they need love and not about me and how much I want their love. (Wanna know how much that last sentence proves that I am a terrible person... seriously, a lot). Basically I begin to love them out of a need to love those beneath me and not out of a desire to be loved by those above me.
My true and sincere goal in life should be to love everyone as though we were all equal, but my heart rarely believes that all men are equal. Created equal? Sure. Equal in adulthood, no, not so much. And this has nothing to do with gender or race or sexual preference. It has to do with actions and words and silly flippant moments of insecurity.
I want to be loved by someone better than myself because that makes me worth something. I love people less than myself out of obligation and pity. I love those on par with me because finally I can be honest and comfortable and not feel badly for them - such a relief. I strive to make myself appear to be more so that someone better than me will be fooled long enough to fall for me.
The really horrible thing about this is the subjective nature of my love. My love is loyal though. It won't go away. I will keep it forever (which is why 5 years after my last relationship I sometimes still feel disloyal to my ex. And still really want to kill myself for ever saying I had stopped loving him. I am really good at lying to myself. and therefore really good at lying to others (but only when I believe said lie)). Really, I love like there is no tomorrow once I've decided to love. It just doesn't always stem from a good place.
Speaking of good (and bad), your homework assignment should be to go through this blog and find all of the times I have shamed myself or used inappropriate and subjective modifiers to try and force myself into what I think I should be... or what I think you should be. And then message me and tell me to stop digging into my shame. And to do my taxes already.
So today I am going to say just this: I have great employees. If everyone in my company could be as great as my employees, I would have a great job.
However, if's very rarely come true.
Entirely unrelated to work, I need to just say something else. I hate it when people turn out to be really terrible. I am really terrible when it comes to certain things. Like shamefully. Like when I think about St. Peter at the gates, reading off my sins before he lets me in, I blush a little. or a lot. I don't think I will cause HIM to raise any eyebrows, because he's seen it all, but if he read it out loud, there would be a lot of eyebrow raising amongst many of my friends. Regardless though, I am still disappointed when I hear what I don't want to hear - When I hear that which takes my love of a person and makes it about them and how much they need love and not about me and how much I want their love. (Wanna know how much that last sentence proves that I am a terrible person... seriously, a lot). Basically I begin to love them out of a need to love those beneath me and not out of a desire to be loved by those above me.
My true and sincere goal in life should be to love everyone as though we were all equal, but my heart rarely believes that all men are equal. Created equal? Sure. Equal in adulthood, no, not so much. And this has nothing to do with gender or race or sexual preference. It has to do with actions and words and silly flippant moments of insecurity.
I want to be loved by someone better than myself because that makes me worth something. I love people less than myself out of obligation and pity. I love those on par with me because finally I can be honest and comfortable and not feel badly for them - such a relief. I strive to make myself appear to be more so that someone better than me will be fooled long enough to fall for me.
The really horrible thing about this is the subjective nature of my love. My love is loyal though. It won't go away. I will keep it forever (which is why 5 years after my last relationship I sometimes still feel disloyal to my ex. And still really want to kill myself for ever saying I had stopped loving him. I am really good at lying to myself. and therefore really good at lying to others (but only when I believe said lie)). Really, I love like there is no tomorrow once I've decided to love. It just doesn't always stem from a good place.
Speaking of good (and bad), your homework assignment should be to go through this blog and find all of the times I have shamed myself or used inappropriate and subjective modifiers to try and force myself into what I think I should be... or what I think you should be. And then message me and tell me to stop digging into my shame. And to do my taxes already.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Health is hilarious
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need......OOOOOOOHHHHH. I need a hero. I'm holding out for a hero til the end of the night. He's gotta be strong and he's gotta be fast and he's gotta be fresh from the fight!
Today. Oh today. Well let's start with yesterday. Or the day before. I don't know when... I made a choice:
I cannot live for my family. I cannot survive for them. They have to do those things all on their own. And I have to live. Or I what I have done here for myself and for my family will just become a pathetic sob story. and that's not happening to me. I won't let it.
It's so not helpful to my family if I try to control their living process. It hurts them... like I could be them better than they could be them. Like me being in control for them is better. And its not. Not even for my dad. I don't know if they feel that way. But I realized that I need to only be their family, not their life support, their breath, their hero. And it's so not helpful for me to focus all of my energy on taking care of everyone else. I need to be taken care of... and there's no one to do that but me. I'm really good at taking care of people. I can be good at taking care of me. If I try.
So after making this choice a series of unfortunate events occurred.
1. Jessica lost her baby. There aren't words. No that's a lie there are totally words. I love my sister. I love that baby. I love the next baby already. I am scared, freaked out of the death of unborn children. There is nothing less natural, less okay. It's like the death of hope itself. I hate it because there is no one to blame. It is just pain and darkness. It is death happening inside of life. It does not make any sense. and I hate that it happens. But I love that baby still. I talked to her. (it was going to be a girl. I know that there is no way to be sure of that because it wasn't far enough along... but I knew it as only an auntie can know.... I have not been wrong about any of my nieces or nephews yet). And I am super proud of my sister. She has been a mother and is a mother and will be again. It's really a magical process to watch a woman turn into a mother. Seriously.
2. Daddy was put back in the hospital. And lost the place he was going to live. and if I don't step in all the way again, he may be back on the streets. And that might have to be okay. Really.
And a series of fortunate events occurred...
1. I sang myself a love song.
2. I let myself feel. even though I am afraid. even though what I felt was love. for me. and something akin to like for other people. and something akin to not like for still others (which can be just as scary to discover you don't like the person you should like...)
3. I got really excited to be me.
4. I decided to start actively pursuing new opportunities in my life. And then I actually did something about it. I know shocking.
But I feel really honestly good. I am sad and scared. Really really terrified. But I'm doing it. It's like an extreme sport... like sky diving. Taking care of myself is like skydiving.
I am jumping out of this plane and hurtling toward God knows what. The adrenaline is totally awesome.
PS. I hate being called Dude by men. a lot.
Today. Oh today. Well let's start with yesterday. Or the day before. I don't know when... I made a choice:
I cannot live for my family. I cannot survive for them. They have to do those things all on their own. And I have to live. Or I what I have done here for myself and for my family will just become a pathetic sob story. and that's not happening to me. I won't let it.
It's so not helpful to my family if I try to control their living process. It hurts them... like I could be them better than they could be them. Like me being in control for them is better. And its not. Not even for my dad. I don't know if they feel that way. But I realized that I need to only be their family, not their life support, their breath, their hero. And it's so not helpful for me to focus all of my energy on taking care of everyone else. I need to be taken care of... and there's no one to do that but me. I'm really good at taking care of people. I can be good at taking care of me. If I try.
So after making this choice a series of unfortunate events occurred.
1. Jessica lost her baby. There aren't words. No that's a lie there are totally words. I love my sister. I love that baby. I love the next baby already. I am scared, freaked out of the death of unborn children. There is nothing less natural, less okay. It's like the death of hope itself. I hate it because there is no one to blame. It is just pain and darkness. It is death happening inside of life. It does not make any sense. and I hate that it happens. But I love that baby still. I talked to her. (it was going to be a girl. I know that there is no way to be sure of that because it wasn't far enough along... but I knew it as only an auntie can know.... I have not been wrong about any of my nieces or nephews yet). And I am super proud of my sister. She has been a mother and is a mother and will be again. It's really a magical process to watch a woman turn into a mother. Seriously.
2. Daddy was put back in the hospital. And lost the place he was going to live. and if I don't step in all the way again, he may be back on the streets. And that might have to be okay. Really.
And a series of fortunate events occurred...
1. I sang myself a love song.
2. I let myself feel. even though I am afraid. even though what I felt was love. for me. and something akin to like for other people. and something akin to not like for still others (which can be just as scary to discover you don't like the person you should like...)
3. I got really excited to be me.
4. I decided to start actively pursuing new opportunities in my life. And then I actually did something about it. I know shocking.
But I feel really honestly good. I am sad and scared. Really really terrified. But I'm doing it. It's like an extreme sport... like sky diving. Taking care of myself is like skydiving.
I am jumping out of this plane and hurtling toward God knows what. The adrenaline is totally awesome.
PS. I hate being called Dude by men. a lot.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Soap boxes
Today was a terrible day. But it's nearly over. And I finally have internet at my house again. So why am I at my mother's house waiting for her to get home? Because we are fighting and I know we need to fix it.
However, I had a really great conversation with Julie today. She "got on her soap box", as she put it, and pointed out a few very terrifying and true things to me about myself. For example, whenever I feel vulnerable or weak, I get very angry and usually at myself. And then I do what I did in my last post, and try to make myself just be better. Instead of admitting my weakness, or sitting with my vulnerability, I pretend to admit something, pretend to laugh, and then I "move on" which means I rant and rave and be angry for days.
Here's the vulnerability: I am afraid, desperately afraid, to fall in love. Or to even have a crush. Or even just maybe have a little tiny uncertainty about how I feel. I do not like to like boys. I like boys... but only as far as I am in control.
Here's the thing though, regardless of what made me vulnerable, or weak, or whatever, finally being honest with my best friend about that, was so healing. Sometimes I forget how much I need her to feel whole. And I always always miss her. She knows me just so well. Better than I ever expect her to. And I always assume she is going to be disappointed in me, which is just stupid, because Julie loves me.
And I really love her.
However, I had a really great conversation with Julie today. She "got on her soap box", as she put it, and pointed out a few very terrifying and true things to me about myself. For example, whenever I feel vulnerable or weak, I get very angry and usually at myself. And then I do what I did in my last post, and try to make myself just be better. Instead of admitting my weakness, or sitting with my vulnerability, I pretend to admit something, pretend to laugh, and then I "move on" which means I rant and rave and be angry for days.
Here's the vulnerability: I am afraid, desperately afraid, to fall in love. Or to even have a crush. Or even just maybe have a little tiny uncertainty about how I feel. I do not like to like boys. I like boys... but only as far as I am in control.
Here's the thing though, regardless of what made me vulnerable, or weak, or whatever, finally being honest with my best friend about that, was so healing. Sometimes I forget how much I need her to feel whole. And I always always miss her. She knows me just so well. Better than I ever expect her to. And I always assume she is going to be disappointed in me, which is just stupid, because Julie loves me.
And I really love her.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
The joys of recovery
Deep breaths, Rebecca. Smile a little. Sing a lot. You know the magic keys you hold to recovery. Coffee, Cosmos, Episodes of Grey's. A lot of GLEE soundtracks. You love this. You thrive on it. So let's dive in!
There is nothing to bring me back around to finding myself like a fabulous weekend of overly emotional fantastic-ness. It really is amazing what best friends, great wine, and boy drama can do to inspire me toward emotional health. I think rejection is my motivator. Failure is my forte. Over-feeling is my catalyst toward change. Peace and Joy always return to me after I realize what a ridiculous person I am when I stop taking good care of myself. And then I giggle at my awesome "Becca-ness", as my precious (and pregnant!) sister-in-law put it, and wrap up my faults in a bag and chuck them off of the nearest waterfall, allowing them to become a dear memory, but no longer the current reality.
I love this moment. This is the moment where I live in the glowy aftermath of stolen kisses and little moments of flirtation that then turned the corner into the treachery of the DTR or State of the Union Address... also known as the moment when the weekend fun becomes that real conversation I always try to avoid. That conversation in which we all confess what we actually want and what we are really thinking. I always walk away with the knowledge that I am a silly little girl, sometimes a terrible person, and once again without any more wisdom about what I really want with a man. Because I am perpetually single. I never thought that out of all my childhood friends I would be the "Single Girl". But I am. And boy howdy I really do love it.
With less giddiness and more honesty, I always do learn more of myself. For example, codependency is attractive to me, but too terrifying to commit to. Selfishness is sexy, but gets old really quickly. Religion really does matter. Education is more often than not essential. I have to concentrate in order to not be manipulative. I have to remember to not be lost in the emotional crap that boys throw out in order to make you feel better, make them feel better, and remember what I actually what I need... and then express myself. Even if that means I have to give up the stolen kisses.
But at the end of the day, there is really something precious about a weekend away - especially when it includes Julie. She is so much my favorite. She is lovely. Really. Her life sucks a little right now, but she is working to change that. She loves whole heartedly and tries to continue to love people whole heartedly, even when she isn't sure how. People (or maybe just the church in general) should take lessons from her. And her husband.
Lastly, here's this one for you: 2010 was the most terrible year that ever existed. Seriously. This year needs to be better. So far it has been. All that hard stuff is becoming normal, and all the death is just becoming a piece of me. Remembering them is healing me. All of the illness it changing me into an adult.
So 2010, screw you. 2011, here's to you!
There is nothing to bring me back around to finding myself like a fabulous weekend of overly emotional fantastic-ness. It really is amazing what best friends, great wine, and boy drama can do to inspire me toward emotional health. I think rejection is my motivator. Failure is my forte. Over-feeling is my catalyst toward change. Peace and Joy always return to me after I realize what a ridiculous person I am when I stop taking good care of myself. And then I giggle at my awesome "Becca-ness", as my precious (and pregnant!) sister-in-law put it, and wrap up my faults in a bag and chuck them off of the nearest waterfall, allowing them to become a dear memory, but no longer the current reality.
I love this moment. This is the moment where I live in the glowy aftermath of stolen kisses and little moments of flirtation that then turned the corner into the treachery of the DTR or State of the Union Address... also known as the moment when the weekend fun becomes that real conversation I always try to avoid. That conversation in which we all confess what we actually want and what we are really thinking. I always walk away with the knowledge that I am a silly little girl, sometimes a terrible person, and once again without any more wisdom about what I really want with a man. Because I am perpetually single. I never thought that out of all my childhood friends I would be the "Single Girl". But I am. And boy howdy I really do love it.
With less giddiness and more honesty, I always do learn more of myself. For example, codependency is attractive to me, but too terrifying to commit to. Selfishness is sexy, but gets old really quickly. Religion really does matter. Education is more often than not essential. I have to concentrate in order to not be manipulative. I have to remember to not be lost in the emotional crap that boys throw out in order to make you feel better, make them feel better, and remember what I actually what I need... and then express myself. Even if that means I have to give up the stolen kisses.
But at the end of the day, there is really something precious about a weekend away - especially when it includes Julie. She is so much my favorite. She is lovely. Really. Her life sucks a little right now, but she is working to change that. She loves whole heartedly and tries to continue to love people whole heartedly, even when she isn't sure how. People (or maybe just the church in general) should take lessons from her. And her husband.
Lastly, here's this one for you: 2010 was the most terrible year that ever existed. Seriously. This year needs to be better. So far it has been. All that hard stuff is becoming normal, and all the death is just becoming a piece of me. Remembering them is healing me. All of the illness it changing me into an adult.
So 2010, screw you. 2011, here's to you!
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