Damn You Karmic Lesson

This is seriously uncalled for. I know that it's a karmic lesson because NO ONE is available to talk and I'm getting closer and closer to the brink...and really should be studying. Blech.

I just want him to call. He said he would...why hasn't he? What the hell am I supposed to be learning here? Is it: I'm ok on my own.
I can't rely on others to bring me happiness.
Even if I try REALLY REALLY hard, not everything I want will happen...
Time to be a strong independent girl? Boo to that I say.

I'm just not feeling this. I want my Ryan. I want my Dink. I feel like I'm SO close but...he just keeps slipping away and all I'm left with is a file of pictures, amazing memories, and stinging eyes.

And...Fly

“Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.”

I've been trying to come to terms with various sides of myself lately. How does one component fit in with the rest and does it's undeniable inclusion make me a 'better' or 'worse' person. How will it change the way society and the people I care about view me? Does it make me less of a 'good' person?

Here's the thing though...I only have this one life...and who knows how long it really is. If I have a chance to do something that resonates with a part of me...that brings me excitement and increases my overall understanding of myself...I should do it. I feel like I make sure to consider if my actions will bring direct pain to myself and those I care about and, if it doesn't, and I continue to feel drawn to it...why the hell not?

Life is for living...for experiencing...for taking those leaps off the cliffs and enjoying the exhilaration that we all deserve to have in our lives and memories.

I plan on having some incredible experiences to reflect upon when I'm old and wrinkled and tearing up the retirement home. I will...I am...I will always make sure that I truly live.

Revelations...Not To Be Confused With Relevations

You know…it’s always an interesting occurrence when you attempt to break into a new environment…a new group of friends…a new job…a new ‘lifestyle’. How do you stay true to who you are while also doing the supposedly needed modifications? Since when do I need to change the way I view myself? Actually…on that note…I started doing this to celebrate my body and myself. Instead…I’m listening, and believing as gospel, a very opinionated but well-meaning person who laments to me about all the photoshopping he needs to do on my photos and how, “if I ever want to make it” I need to know how to present my nose because…let’s face it “my body is my selling point…not my face”. This doesn’t work for me.

It becomes apparent that I’m letting some of ‘me’ go when a dear friend hears a conversation, recognizes my hurt and anger, and has the incredible ability to reign me back in to what I know is true. I am a beautiful, smart, caring, neurotic, and messy girl/woman. My body is my body and it’s perfect the way it is…especially given what I’ve put it through. My face is my face and plastic surgery is just adding a mask to what is supposed to be.

My career may not matter to those who see me in a specific light and who have (graciously) taken it upon themselves to promote me in the world and for the sake of “fashion” and “modeling”. But my career is important to me. My goal of helping others WILL NOT be hindered by comments that affirm my always-lingering feelings of self-degradation. I’m better than that. This all started to celebrate…and now I find myself afraid of doing the wrong thing for fear pictures will end up where they shouldn’t and goals will be affected. This wasn’t the plan. Now…how to get back to me?

A Case of the Gratefuls

It's been over a month since I last blogged. In those 5 weeks, I've spent a great deal of time being frustrated with school, angry about my decision, and struggling to stay afloat. As October has come to a close and November has been ushered in, I've started to change my mentality a bit. I've realized that school gets easier if I just accept it...and go for it...go big or go home. Well, I have to go big TO go home.

I've started to put in more time studying and it's been paying off. A pop quiz yesterday in anatomy saw me scoring 100% (spelling might have been a bit off but all the actual components were right) Wow - it was such a great feeling!! I've found study partners, the way I study best, quiet times to slip into various rooms to work, etc.

So, even though the volume of homework and studying isn't decreasing (at. all.) things are looking up and I don't feel like I'm struggling to stay afloat quite as much. With that being said, one of my classmates has started a 'Thanksgiving A Day" posting. Each day for the month of November she writes at least one thing she's grateful for. Naturally, I think it's a stellar plan and think I'll do it as well... Here we go:

November 1st: I'm grateful that studying has paid off

November 2nd: I'm grateful for crisp fall days with leaves blustering around me, the ocean waves rolling in, and the first chai eggnog of the season in my hand.

(Please ignore the strange yellow tint and lack of nose...silly cellphone camera)

It's All In The Signs...

You know you're really starting to struggle when you start looking towards bad coping mechanisms to get you out of situations...without admitting defeat.

Ugh.

Alright, Alright!

So here we are...3 weeks into graduate school and, as any good student should do, I've come up with a Plan B for if school doesn't go so well. I mean, let's be honest...I've already had an anatomy quiz and a quiz in a basic theory class and I'm realizing that school is tough shit. I don't really like super tough things. Thus...my Plan B.

Plan A: go to grad school, become a super awesome occupational therapist.

Plan B: don't go to grad school and become a super awesome trophy wife.

Let's compare: studying and doing shitty on tests vs. traveling and shopping...tough tough call.

Ohh if only I could be content being a trophy wife. Le sigh. I'd probably have to take up tennis or something equally as fancy-shmanzy.

Debbie Downer

So..yeah...gonna be that Debbie Downer tonight. The Grandpa is having a rather hard go of it and went back to the hospital today. It hasn't really hit me until this past week though (odd since I was up there and saw him) I think all this talking in grad school about end of life dignity has really hit close to home and I feel like I can better understand how shitty his situation must be.

Apparently when you're all grown up in grad school you have to keep a journal...so here's mine from today:

So my grandpa is back in the hospital tonight. He spent over a week in it last month and things are quickly turning towards a downward spiral. A lot of the topics we’ve brought up in classes this week are so so so applicable to him and I find myself thinking of him a great deal. He has a home health aide, PT, OT, and hospice worker coming into the house throughout the week. He’s constantly bombarded by people trying to ‘help him’ and yet, at the same time, he feels completely helpless. This is a guy who built the house these people are walking into. He raised a family. He drove a car until about 2 years ago. He’s never needed assistance like this from others and certainly not from strangers. He feels…completely attacked. His dignity is gone. He feels emasculated needing to go to the ER because he can’t urinate. He’s expressed a wish that Alaska was a pro-euthanasia state. And I sit here. Wondering.

Is it bad to wish someone you care about to be dead? In this case…I don’t really think so. His quality of life is practically non-existent. His pride is gone, pain overwhelming, and really…what is there left to attend to? I hope that he is able to go peacefully and quickly…I can’t even imagine the emotions he must be going through each day – wondering what will happen to his wife after he passes, who will take care of the house, who will feed the hummingbirds outside the window, who will shovel the path for my grandma, etc. Who will be here? I just want to whisper, “we all will be, Grandpa. It’s ok to let go now.”

This is actually the first time I’ve cried over this…and, as nerdy and/or bad as it sounds, it helps my understanding of my future patients when I put my Grandpa in their shoes…how would I want to interact with them? How would I show them the utmost respect and provide them with as much maintenance of dignity as I could?

Lots of questions and no answers.