Emma has been a true asshole to me. Unbelievably. I have spent the last few days just shaking my head at how snotty and judgmental she has been, not to mention unpleasant, and that I put up with it, I should have called her on so much, instead I dealt with it, "for peace".
This last week, now that she is leaving, we have both been very nice. Not kiss-ass fake nice but real nice. She even smiled at me this morning (it threw me off!) We just weren't meant to be. I am glad she is moving, but today, seeing that most of her stuff is gone, I have seen that there are things I will miss.
Could I do things differently so she wouldn't move? Probably not, I didn't even suggest it. She had a negative image of me that did not match reality, and over time I just conceded that no matter what I do she wont perceive me any differently, so I just quit caring. When I knew something bothered her that didn't bother me, I couldn't muster the energy to change it. I had things that were so much more important to me to change, so if there was no reward (i.e. a roommate who emotes) then emotionally I could feel no point of going through the difficult process of changing a habit that didn't bother me (BTW the habit is not drying off enough in the shower-there were other minor things too, but nothing that she wasn't almost as bad about)
Now that she is leaving I can actually like her. 3 days ago I was sure we would never speak again, now I am open to it (assuming that she can muster up more than one word answers to my "obvious trying to start a conversation" questions)
I think the core of all of it is this- I have loud energy, she has quiet energy. My big energy overwhelmed her, she was a bitch in order to punish me for it, I was a bitch in order to punish her for punishing me. Lather, rinse, repeat.
And now I get to live with my clone, which means I will live with another loud energy person. This will be different, different challenges & different rewards. Tera and I went to Ikea yesterday after she seemed very not at home at the thrift store. She was gushing over everything, at Ikea, very enthused about home improvement ideas. She wore Chanel sunglasses. Emma was wrong to judge me for wanting nice things? Emma was wrong to poo-poo home improvement plans that would require nothing of her? Now I have my chance to practice what I preach.
mood: Happy (for myself, and Emma)
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Thursday, July 28, 2005
I had my first tour today
I have bad news and I have good news and I have good news.
The bad news is I want to quit the museum position.
The good news is I dont want to want to quit the museum position.
The good news is my tour went great!
It was an architecture tour and about 30 people showed up!!!! (usually a tour is 10-12) having it more people actually made it easier, it was less intimate. I can see why things went well, it was a combination of factors.
An obvious reason things went well was the new medication prescribed to address the anxiety. The doctor said to start with a quarter mg and increase to a half if needed, last night I felt the "fog" return so I increased it to a half, and that "unpopular schoolgirl" feeling was completely gone. I even chit chatted with this slim low-voiced hipster girl who intimidated the hell out of me- she was like a symbol to me of all the people who I imagined would snub me- she was very nice. It's a good thing that that social phobia feeling has faded a bit, because shy has the tendency to look like stuck-up, and I was worried that could become the case if I didn't become more outgoing.
Another reason I think things went well is I felt cute :) This must be medication related because I have gained 5 pounds on my new summer ice-cream-only diet :) I got dressed and did my hair and makeup and just felt attractive- that sent my confidence way up, so I could relax and be my cheesy-cheery-flight-attendant-dorky self :)
The third reason I think things went well is as important as the medication. I let go of the perfectionism. Perfectionism means it's either perfect or it's unacceptable. Since nothing is perfect then if you are a perfectionist you are never acceptable. This has been a big problem in my life acedemicly, and with the tour guide training/planning. The tour was far from perfect. It went well becuase I wasn't beating up on myself internally every time I could have done something better. I started the tour by telling them it was my first ever, so we could make it a game to see who could stump and fluster me. They asked tons of questions and I did not have the answer to many of them, which was just fine.
All in all it was a very imperfect tour. But instead of saying to myself "God I'm so stupid!" and tugging on my hair like Chris Farley on SNL when I made a mistake, I just corrected myself and forgot about it :) I could have done alot better but as another SNL character would say "and thats...okay"
mood: ACCOMPLISHED! :) :) :) :) :)
The bad news is I want to quit the museum position.
The good news is I dont want to want to quit the museum position.
The good news is my tour went great!
It was an architecture tour and about 30 people showed up!!!! (usually a tour is 10-12) having it more people actually made it easier, it was less intimate. I can see why things went well, it was a combination of factors.
An obvious reason things went well was the new medication prescribed to address the anxiety. The doctor said to start with a quarter mg and increase to a half if needed, last night I felt the "fog" return so I increased it to a half, and that "unpopular schoolgirl" feeling was completely gone. I even chit chatted with this slim low-voiced hipster girl who intimidated the hell out of me- she was like a symbol to me of all the people who I imagined would snub me- she was very nice. It's a good thing that that social phobia feeling has faded a bit, because shy has the tendency to look like stuck-up, and I was worried that could become the case if I didn't become more outgoing.
Another reason I think things went well is I felt cute :) This must be medication related because I have gained 5 pounds on my new summer ice-cream-only diet :) I got dressed and did my hair and makeup and just felt attractive- that sent my confidence way up, so I could relax and be my cheesy-cheery-flight-attendant-dorky self :)
The third reason I think things went well is as important as the medication. I let go of the perfectionism. Perfectionism means it's either perfect or it's unacceptable. Since nothing is perfect then if you are a perfectionist you are never acceptable. This has been a big problem in my life acedemicly, and with the tour guide training/planning. The tour was far from perfect. It went well becuase I wasn't beating up on myself internally every time I could have done something better. I started the tour by telling them it was my first ever, so we could make it a game to see who could stump and fluster me. They asked tons of questions and I did not have the answer to many of them, which was just fine.
All in all it was a very imperfect tour. But instead of saying to myself "God I'm so stupid!" and tugging on my hair like Chris Farley on SNL when I made a mistake, I just corrected myself and forgot about it :) I could have done alot better but as another SNL character would say "and thats...okay"
mood: ACCOMPLISHED! :) :) :) :) :)
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
My first tour is tomorrow
I have good news and bad news
The bad news is I want to quit the museum position
The good news is I don't want to want to quit the museum position
The bad news is I want to quit the museum position
The good news is I don't want to want to quit the museum position
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Opa!
I have to write this now while the feelings are still fresh...
I just visited Nicholas.
Nick's brother looks like Andre Agassi
I felt warmth on my leg when demitrius was sitting near me (& arm)
when I touched both of their arms, I felt demitrus's more
we went to a resturaunt and had mousaka
there were grapes on the ceiling
demitrius is some girls wedding best man
went to the diner, had cake with raspberry, peanut butter, spice cake, butter cream, chocolate mouse and chocolate
decaf coffee
Singing along to greek songs
TONS of gay innuendo
political song that had fake words
Nick hardly looked at me, demitrius did alot.
Khasikstani woman who spoke greek
Hardly understood her a few times
Scrunchies
mood: descriptive
I just visited Nicholas.
Nick's brother looks like Andre Agassi
I felt warmth on my leg when demitrius was sitting near me (& arm)
when I touched both of their arms, I felt demitrus's more
we went to a resturaunt and had mousaka
there were grapes on the ceiling
demitrius is some girls wedding best man
went to the diner, had cake with raspberry, peanut butter, spice cake, butter cream, chocolate mouse and chocolate
decaf coffee
Singing along to greek songs
TONS of gay innuendo
political song that had fake words
Nick hardly looked at me, demitrius did alot.
Khasikstani woman who spoke greek
Hardly understood her a few times
Scrunchies
mood: descriptive
Saturday, July 23, 2005
I'm not crazy, but I seem like I am
Okay, I am aware that a well made movie can put a person into a different headspace, it is after midnight and I just watched the excellent film "The Machinist"
I am so sick of my life. I am at the point where I would like to be rich enough to hire someone to gut and clean the whole apartment, and start from scratch. It's really not that messy, (my room, the size of a full and twin bed laid next to eachother is) but otherwise it's only as messy as an average bachelor's apartment. But I hate it. It stresses me out and makes me feel out of control. I hate most of all not being able to find things. This is it again. My inner life (my perception of myself) doesn't match the outside.
Inside, I value reasonable order (I like a little mess for the "homey" feeling.)
On the outside things are in terrible dissarray (I have 4 boxes full of random things, so if I am wondering where my bungee cords are, I have to look through 4 boxes)
Inside I care about my appearance, I look natural but well groomed. Outside I am blase, I usually wear a knit shirt and jeans, I only shave my legs if I expect to get some, and I have acne and mom hair.
Inside I am smart and ambitious, ready to leave my mark on the world, outside I am a wuss, too chicken to grieve contract violations by the company, and too chicken to tell every passenger to stow their purse.
Inside I am a considerate friend and family member, who sends cards on birthdays, and is regularly in touch, outside I don't always return calls, often because I prefer to stay at home, in an apartment that will never be clean, no matter how many plans I break.
The good news is I know that the person inside is the real me. I will be her someday, I am more her today than I was 5 years ago. The other good news is I see the person outside too so I can gauge my success.
mood: sick and tired of being sick and tired
I am so sick of my life. I am at the point where I would like to be rich enough to hire someone to gut and clean the whole apartment, and start from scratch. It's really not that messy, (my room, the size of a full and twin bed laid next to eachother is) but otherwise it's only as messy as an average bachelor's apartment. But I hate it. It stresses me out and makes me feel out of control. I hate most of all not being able to find things. This is it again. My inner life (my perception of myself) doesn't match the outside.
Inside, I value reasonable order (I like a little mess for the "homey" feeling.)
On the outside things are in terrible dissarray (I have 4 boxes full of random things, so if I am wondering where my bungee cords are, I have to look through 4 boxes)
Inside I care about my appearance, I look natural but well groomed. Outside I am blase, I usually wear a knit shirt and jeans, I only shave my legs if I expect to get some, and I have acne and mom hair.
Inside I am smart and ambitious, ready to leave my mark on the world, outside I am a wuss, too chicken to grieve contract violations by the company, and too chicken to tell every passenger to stow their purse.
Inside I am a considerate friend and family member, who sends cards on birthdays, and is regularly in touch, outside I don't always return calls, often because I prefer to stay at home, in an apartment that will never be clean, no matter how many plans I break.
The good news is I know that the person inside is the real me. I will be her someday, I am more her today than I was 5 years ago. The other good news is I see the person outside too so I can gauge my success.
mood: sick and tired of being sick and tired
Friday, July 22, 2005
Hilarious!
The other day I wrote a post describing the frustration of having anxiety disorder. I wished for my life to no longer be like this:
So yesterday I added a medication for anxiety, and it seems that I no longer have the problem of having an abundance of will, but the results and rewards of a slacker. Now I have the results AND will of a slacker...I feel very unmotivated!
I am not concerned yet. Since little less is being accomplished than many of my most anxious days I am going to enjoy the laziness. I imagine that the lack of "motivation" I am feeling is actually a lack of the voice of my anxiety shouting in my ear "YOU MUST DO THIS...OR ELSE!"
If everything is going as it should, I will have to learn how to have a motivation of desire, instead of the usual: fear. I don't have to have it all figured out today (that statement might be a good sign :) )
mood: LAZY
I am so enraged right now. This pisses me off. I want success too. I want accomplisments too. I feel like it has been granted to others and not to me. I am pissed because if effort, will, and motivation were what was rewarded, I would have success beyond my wildest dreams, but its not the effort that counts, its the result, and I have not had results. DAMN DAMN DAMN!
So yesterday I added a medication for anxiety, and it seems that I no longer have the problem of having an abundance of will, but the results and rewards of a slacker. Now I have the results AND will of a slacker...I feel very unmotivated!
I am not concerned yet. Since little less is being accomplished than many of my most anxious days I am going to enjoy the laziness. I imagine that the lack of "motivation" I am feeling is actually a lack of the voice of my anxiety shouting in my ear "YOU MUST DO THIS...OR ELSE!"
If everything is going as it should, I will have to learn how to have a motivation of desire, instead of the usual: fear. I don't have to have it all figured out today (that statement might be a good sign :) )
mood: LAZY
I am a "The Mamas and the Papas" song
I am intrigued.
I was ready to get up this morning around 9, but Emma was getting ready to go camping and I figured I'd just be in her way.
I am not racing to the cappucino machine to turn me into a human being.
I was yesterday, and I am this morning, negative. But how do I describe negative? I am not happy, well maybe a little, but I don't think I was happy before taking the new medication either. If I am full of anxiety and unhappiness what happens when you take the anxiety away? The unhappiness is left. I think its a feeling of unhappiness, not depression, a feeling of dissatisfaction, not hopelessness. Dissatisfaction is a very reasonable reaction to my life. I am only able to handle the bare minimum (which is an accomplishment- with severe depression you can't even get out of bed) I meet tons of amazing people, and have the ability to travel on my days off, but after 4 days of being nice to people I usually need my days off to hole up in my house and recharge for the next 4 days of friendly. My attempts at intellectual stimulation (the museum) have been interrupted with punishing anxiety and self-doubt. So why would I feel happy? I'll "happily" take dissatisfaction.
I can say this much too. I am feeling little bits of happiness here and there. Last winter I gave up coffee and I felt sort of similar, I was very popular I noticed, but I ended up needing the coffee again. The doctor described the coffee as self medication to compensate for the energy shortage from depression. What a combo, depression which tires you out, and when you use a stimulant so you are functional, you are paralyzed with anxiety niiiiiiiiiiiiiice.
I am having my huge cup of cappucino, just to make an equivalent comparison of me before the new medication and after, but once that is established I look forward to cutting down my caffiene consumption. I hate being dependant on anyone or anything...and I am, without a doubt, dependant on caffiene.
My hopes continue to be up. I am going to avoid fantasizing about having a career and husband and children and volunteering at the PTA and on campaigns and having an immaculate (large) home because as I have learned with the ativan, some medications arent meant to be. I am going to take it day by day, but when I imagine that there is a POSSIBILITY that maybe I could graduate college one day, I cant help but develop a huge grin.
mood: unhappy (yay!)
I was ready to get up this morning around 9, but Emma was getting ready to go camping and I figured I'd just be in her way.
I am not racing to the cappucino machine to turn me into a human being.
I was yesterday, and I am this morning, negative. But how do I describe negative? I am not happy, well maybe a little, but I don't think I was happy before taking the new medication either. If I am full of anxiety and unhappiness what happens when you take the anxiety away? The unhappiness is left. I think its a feeling of unhappiness, not depression, a feeling of dissatisfaction, not hopelessness. Dissatisfaction is a very reasonable reaction to my life. I am only able to handle the bare minimum (which is an accomplishment- with severe depression you can't even get out of bed) I meet tons of amazing people, and have the ability to travel on my days off, but after 4 days of being nice to people I usually need my days off to hole up in my house and recharge for the next 4 days of friendly. My attempts at intellectual stimulation (the museum) have been interrupted with punishing anxiety and self-doubt. So why would I feel happy? I'll "happily" take dissatisfaction.
I can say this much too. I am feeling little bits of happiness here and there. Last winter I gave up coffee and I felt sort of similar, I was very popular I noticed, but I ended up needing the coffee again. The doctor described the coffee as self medication to compensate for the energy shortage from depression. What a combo, depression which tires you out, and when you use a stimulant so you are functional, you are paralyzed with anxiety niiiiiiiiiiiiiice.
I am having my huge cup of cappucino, just to make an equivalent comparison of me before the new medication and after, but once that is established I look forward to cutting down my caffiene consumption. I hate being dependant on anyone or anything...and I am, without a doubt, dependant on caffiene.
My hopes continue to be up. I am going to avoid fantasizing about having a career and husband and children and volunteering at the PTA and on campaigns and having an immaculate (large) home because as I have learned with the ativan, some medications arent meant to be. I am going to take it day by day, but when I imagine that there is a POSSIBILITY that maybe I could graduate college one day, I cant help but develop a huge grin.
mood: unhappy (yay!)
Thursday, July 21, 2005
My hopes are up
I just got back from a psychiatrist appointment. I showed the doctor the fog post, to show that even with my depression improved the anxiety is severe enough that I am only able to survive, and survival alone is not motivation enough for me to keep on going.
He initialy began suggesting a benzodiazapine, since I had such success on ativan, but my job drug tests for benzodiazapines, as they do shorten your reaction time, so those are out. I am terrified of addiction, so I am not TOO upset about not having that option.
He had two other ideas, one a blood pressure medication, another an anti-psychotic medication. I told him to skip the anti-psychotic because I have no problem with reading peoples minds. I didn't really say that. He told me that this medication had been studied in doses of 10 and 16 mg, for psychotic situatuations, but in doses of .25 and .50 it has worked very well for people with anxiety. I chose the anti-psychotic called Risperdal (Risperdone) becuase it had less side effects than the blood pressure medicine. A bonus is to hear it has effects in only a few days!
My hopes are up.
mood: optimistic
He initialy began suggesting a benzodiazapine, since I had such success on ativan, but my job drug tests for benzodiazapines, as they do shorten your reaction time, so those are out. I am terrified of addiction, so I am not TOO upset about not having that option.
He had two other ideas, one a blood pressure medication, another an anti-psychotic medication. I told him to skip the anti-psychotic because I have no problem with reading peoples minds. I didn't really say that. He told me that this medication had been studied in doses of 10 and 16 mg, for psychotic situatuations, but in doses of .25 and .50 it has worked very well for people with anxiety. I chose the anti-psychotic called Risperdal (Risperdone) becuase it had less side effects than the blood pressure medicine. A bonus is to hear it has effects in only a few days!
My hopes are up.
mood: optimistic
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
How it feels to meet a clone of yourself
Last night I went to a coffeeshop with the woman who will be my roommate in November. I am going to call her Tera, named after the character Tara in Mira Niar's Kama Sutra: a tale of love.
She is so much like me it freaks me out. I know jealousy will become an issue, as in me being jealous of her for being as "fabulous" as I am. I am so unique and unlike everyone else, it may be hard for me to accept that there is another person out there "blessed" with my perspective.
It is so freakish how alike we are I am concerned about boundaries. When someone is so similar it is easy to assume you can read their mind. You can forget where you end and they begin. I wasn't taught healthy boundaries, and I have had 2 bad roommate experiences relating to boundaries, so I am going to make a point to always write "her and I" never "we."
As I write this I feel a bit anxious. I don't know if I am sensing a genuine red flag, or if I am doing what I do with men- wanting to push away someone who has the potential to become close. Even if it is a red flag I am going to move forward with it. I don't think it is, the anxiety is high in my chest, when I have a negative "gut instinct" about something, it's usually lower down, sort of buried, like its literally in my gut. I hope I make the right choice.
Whats really cool is maybe I can see better how I am percieved by people. This girl is corrrr-nee, and I am very corny. She is very warm, you feel like you could tell her anything. I am told this all the time about myself. Tera is strongly moral and has alot of opinions. Me too. And they are mostly the same. The creepyest moment of the night was after we had established how bizzaro it was how similar we were, and I mentioned I had initially started school to be a physical therapist- she considered that too. AND she is trained in Thai Massage, which is bizarro because I am interested in Thai Massage, and most people have never heard of it, and one of my fantasies is to become trained as a massage therapist!
Tera is very warm and enthusiastic- I have to do everything in my power not to hurt this girl. She still has her idealism and optimism, and I have lost that, I can't take those away from her, just because they were taken from me. The moment I wrote this paragraph the anxiety melted away. I can see proof that she is indeed a different human being, and I know what I need to do to not hurt her :)
mood: tired, a bit overwhelmed, anxious (but a bit better now)
She is so much like me it freaks me out. I know jealousy will become an issue, as in me being jealous of her for being as "fabulous" as I am. I am so unique and unlike everyone else, it may be hard for me to accept that there is another person out there "blessed" with my perspective.
It is so freakish how alike we are I am concerned about boundaries. When someone is so similar it is easy to assume you can read their mind. You can forget where you end and they begin. I wasn't taught healthy boundaries, and I have had 2 bad roommate experiences relating to boundaries, so I am going to make a point to always write "her and I" never "we."
As I write this I feel a bit anxious. I don't know if I am sensing a genuine red flag, or if I am doing what I do with men- wanting to push away someone who has the potential to become close. Even if it is a red flag I am going to move forward with it. I don't think it is, the anxiety is high in my chest, when I have a negative "gut instinct" about something, it's usually lower down, sort of buried, like its literally in my gut. I hope I make the right choice.
Whats really cool is maybe I can see better how I am percieved by people. This girl is corrrr-nee, and I am very corny. She is very warm, you feel like you could tell her anything. I am told this all the time about myself. Tera is strongly moral and has alot of opinions. Me too. And they are mostly the same. The creepyest moment of the night was after we had established how bizzaro it was how similar we were, and I mentioned I had initially started school to be a physical therapist- she considered that too. AND she is trained in Thai Massage, which is bizarro because I am interested in Thai Massage, and most people have never heard of it, and one of my fantasies is to become trained as a massage therapist!
Tera is very warm and enthusiastic- I have to do everything in my power not to hurt this girl. She still has her idealism and optimism, and I have lost that, I can't take those away from her, just because they were taken from me. The moment I wrote this paragraph the anxiety melted away. I can see proof that she is indeed a different human being, and I know what I need to do to not hurt her :)
mood: tired, a bit overwhelmed, anxious (but a bit better now)
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Fog (a freewrite)
I sincerely considered hiding this post- it is very raw and I feel very vulnerable exposing it.----
Right now my thoughts and feelings have no verbal form. They are an thick fog creating a huge block in my mind- useless yet still opaque, interfering with productive thoughts or actions. I hope the process of writing will help me sort them out.
I am scheduled for my first achitecture tour on the 28th. I am considering quitting the museum altogether. I am so paralyzed by it, this intrusive grey fog, that I can't plan the tours. When I volunteered I thought I would recite scripts, but the position requires creativity, research and planning. The anxiety was so strong during training that one of the ladies who unofficially mentored me thought I would quit. Well I showed her by passing, but this strong anxiety is the same kind I have relating to school, if I can't break through that- readjust my perception, than I am fighting a losing battle.
Thats the big thing- I am seeing the museum the same way I see school. When I think of school I have immediate associations of failure and humiliation. The failure is my grades, I have always been smart and excited about learning, but never had been able to follow through on anything. It has always been the anxiety.
The humiliation is from the normal teasing that kids recieve when they are young, I was a target in elementary and Jr. High, but since I am so sensitive I made a point to change myself to blend in as much as possible, so even though the overt teasing had stopped I was always hyper-aware, always waiting for the joke at my expense, even creating slights that weren't even intended that way.
I stopped school in 2002, my willpower alone had pushed me to not give up, until I was so bruised and bloodied, from fighting my anxiety, that I fell to pieces. (Having success dangled in my face didn't help matters much) Its a good thing that I want to quit the museum right now, it means I am confronting reality, that this anxiety is going to beat the shit out of me with this position if I don't come up with an alternative, and based on my success with ativan, it is possible that the problem may be chemical.
I am so enraged right now. This pisses me off. I want success too. I want accomplisments too. I feel like it has been granted to others and not to me. I am pissed because if effort, will, and motivation were what was rewarded, I would have success beyond my wildest dreams, but its not the effort that counts, its the result, and I have not had results. DAMN DAMN DAMN!
I am so mad. SO MAD. I want a reward. I toughed out the classes. I finished. I got a mug for perfect attendance (even though I was tending to an "emergency" during one of the walk throughs, so I guess those didn't count towards attendance) I get no reward but to know that I finished the class and some cool books- but the reward I want is to be able to give a tour. The reward I want is to be able to walk into the museum and not feel like a fraud. The reward I want is to be able to walk in the building and not imagine everyone is looking at me and thinking "she's not one of us" I know its a chemical imbalance- fine FUCKING BALANCE IT! Im pissed.
If I were dumb this would be fine. I could be a flight attendant and be okay with it. But I have a brain. I have ideas, I have opinions. I feel like the character in "Johnny got his gun" and the Metallica "one" video. I have no arms, legs, face, nothing to communicate with. I have so much to say but I feel like I have no way to say it. I feel like I am living someone else's life, I feel like the universe wants me to contribute to the body of knowledge, but all I can do, no matter how hard I try, is be a flight attendant. I feel so trapped. I feel like the person I am is trapped and years of pushing myself and fighting and APPLYING MYSELF has only taught me that this anxiety is strong, stronger than I can beat on my own.
It doesn't help that I have done all of this fighting alone. My dad just sat and watched. In fact, not only was he not helping me get through this he wanted ME to help HIM through his mental problems. I was the kid- he was the grown up. All he did was pay the bills, I spent from the age of 12 to the present worried about HIS mental state. What the fuck do I matter? He's in pain. Who cares about my development? He's sad because his wife left him and ex-wife died. boo hoo. What did I matter. Who lets a kid get raised by someone so unstable? FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU! WHERE WERE YOU THEN CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES? WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU? FUCK YOU AMERICA FOR LETTING SOCIAL PROGRAMS BE CUT. MY DAD WAS THE ASSHOLE I WAS A FUCKING KID! I AM NOT THE ONLY SMART KID WHO HAD A CHANCE AT LIFE BUT IS FORGOTTON. FUCK YOU AMERICA. YOU HAVE THE MONEY TO ADEQUATELY FUND EDUCATION BUT YOU DONT. YOU LEAVE SO MANY CHILDREN BEHIND!
Whew!----
All of these emotions come up in relation to learning. Maybe education has strong links in my brain to abandonment. From the ages of 12 and on I was pretty much alone, the only one paying attention to my development on a daily basis. I imagine therapy can help me break these associations (I hope so) It makes sense to me that I would not do well in school if anytime I try to study all of these capital letters start pouring out of me (LOL)
I need a little break now I think
mood: paralyzed, very bitter
Right now my thoughts and feelings have no verbal form. They are an thick fog creating a huge block in my mind- useless yet still opaque, interfering with productive thoughts or actions. I hope the process of writing will help me sort them out.
I am scheduled for my first achitecture tour on the 28th. I am considering quitting the museum altogether. I am so paralyzed by it, this intrusive grey fog, that I can't plan the tours. When I volunteered I thought I would recite scripts, but the position requires creativity, research and planning. The anxiety was so strong during training that one of the ladies who unofficially mentored me thought I would quit. Well I showed her by passing, but this strong anxiety is the same kind I have relating to school, if I can't break through that- readjust my perception, than I am fighting a losing battle.
Thats the big thing- I am seeing the museum the same way I see school. When I think of school I have immediate associations of failure and humiliation. The failure is my grades, I have always been smart and excited about learning, but never had been able to follow through on anything. It has always been the anxiety.
The humiliation is from the normal teasing that kids recieve when they are young, I was a target in elementary and Jr. High, but since I am so sensitive I made a point to change myself to blend in as much as possible, so even though the overt teasing had stopped I was always hyper-aware, always waiting for the joke at my expense, even creating slights that weren't even intended that way.
I stopped school in 2002, my willpower alone had pushed me to not give up, until I was so bruised and bloodied, from fighting my anxiety, that I fell to pieces. (Having success dangled in my face didn't help matters much) Its a good thing that I want to quit the museum right now, it means I am confronting reality, that this anxiety is going to beat the shit out of me with this position if I don't come up with an alternative, and based on my success with ativan, it is possible that the problem may be chemical.
I am so enraged right now. This pisses me off. I want success too. I want accomplisments too. I feel like it has been granted to others and not to me. I am pissed because if effort, will, and motivation were what was rewarded, I would have success beyond my wildest dreams, but its not the effort that counts, its the result, and I have not had results. DAMN DAMN DAMN!
I am so mad. SO MAD. I want a reward. I toughed out the classes. I finished. I got a mug for perfect attendance (even though I was tending to an "emergency" during one of the walk throughs, so I guess those didn't count towards attendance) I get no reward but to know that I finished the class and some cool books- but the reward I want is to be able to give a tour. The reward I want is to be able to walk into the museum and not feel like a fraud. The reward I want is to be able to walk in the building and not imagine everyone is looking at me and thinking "she's not one of us" I know its a chemical imbalance- fine FUCKING BALANCE IT! Im pissed.
If I were dumb this would be fine. I could be a flight attendant and be okay with it. But I have a brain. I have ideas, I have opinions. I feel like the character in "Johnny got his gun" and the Metallica "one" video. I have no arms, legs, face, nothing to communicate with. I have so much to say but I feel like I have no way to say it. I feel like I am living someone else's life, I feel like the universe wants me to contribute to the body of knowledge, but all I can do, no matter how hard I try, is be a flight attendant. I feel so trapped. I feel like the person I am is trapped and years of pushing myself and fighting and APPLYING MYSELF has only taught me that this anxiety is strong, stronger than I can beat on my own.
It doesn't help that I have done all of this fighting alone. My dad just sat and watched. In fact, not only was he not helping me get through this he wanted ME to help HIM through his mental problems. I was the kid- he was the grown up. All he did was pay the bills, I spent from the age of 12 to the present worried about HIS mental state. What the fuck do I matter? He's in pain. Who cares about my development? He's sad because his wife left him and ex-wife died. boo hoo. What did I matter. Who lets a kid get raised by someone so unstable? FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU! WHERE WERE YOU THEN CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES? WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU? FUCK YOU AMERICA FOR LETTING SOCIAL PROGRAMS BE CUT. MY DAD WAS THE ASSHOLE I WAS A FUCKING KID! I AM NOT THE ONLY SMART KID WHO HAD A CHANCE AT LIFE BUT IS FORGOTTON. FUCK YOU AMERICA. YOU HAVE THE MONEY TO ADEQUATELY FUND EDUCATION BUT YOU DONT. YOU LEAVE SO MANY CHILDREN BEHIND!
Whew!----
All of these emotions come up in relation to learning. Maybe education has strong links in my brain to abandonment. From the ages of 12 and on I was pretty much alone, the only one paying attention to my development on a daily basis. I imagine therapy can help me break these associations (I hope so) It makes sense to me that I would not do well in school if anytime I try to study all of these capital letters start pouring out of me (LOL)
I need a little break now I think
mood: paralyzed, very bitter
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Everyone in the inner city has a gun
At 10:30 AM thursday Carrie came to pick me up to go to Jane's cabin. Jane is almost 8 months pregnant and we have been, far too much, out of touch.
Paradise
I met Jane and Carrie freshman year at college, we will call the school St. Poopastica since that is what the three of us called it. It is actually a fantastic school, but the students there are mostly sheltered small-town people, many of them quite judgemental and hypocritical.
I met Carrie first at a "get to know each other" event. She was from the suburbs and I from the city. I made a comment "people think the inner-city is so scary but it isn't. People think everyone has a gun or something, I mean I have one, but not every one does" and she said "really?" I have teased her quite a bit about that. She also wore a terrible purple t-shirt with wolves and mountains on it. The most warm sincere lovely person you will ever meet. I met Jane through Carrie. She was Carrie's roommate. A tiny woman with a curmudgenly personality, with no apologies. I love her I love her I love her.
Jane and Carrie took interest in the weird "alternative" things that interested me. Freshman year the three of us would have dance parties to my Big Audio Dynamite CD and Jane's Dangerous Minds soundtrack. Years later a girl from down the hall told us she got jealous of us because it sounded like we had so much fun at the end of the hall, she was the exception, the rest of the hall was annoyed by it.
I had a hard time with grades, my anxiety disorder made studying very hard- the more important it was to me, the harder it was to study. I could get C's on tests without studying, but C grades dont get you into the Physical therapy program. I had moved off campus, transferred to another school in town, and when I was in a depression I wouldn't call them for a months, but they stuck with me.
Ten years from when we met, Jane is married with a baby on the way, Carrie is engaged to a man who has been in love with her since freshman year, and we are all still friends. But not enough. Jane is pretty lonely. She has moved to the small town she is from. Her husband is a farmer out there so there is no way she can move closer to us. Her only friends out there is a sister in law who doesn't like to do active things like she does, and a high school "friend" who behaves jealously and competatively, who Jane is unable to admit to her husband that she doesn't like (how do you say you dont like a friend you have had for 20 years?)
Jane's cabin is adorable. We soaked in the bathwater-temperature lake for literally about 7 hours (we had an hour break in there for a snacky dinner. On the way home we saw wild turkeys and a baby horse. It should have been fun for me but I was terribly anxious the whole time. I am in paradise, with the best friends a girl could ever have, one of these friends needs me, and I have the audacity to be overwhelmed with anxiety?
wrinkled fingers
I had a therapy appointment yesterday and Dr. T suggested something that made sense. I, an INFJ am extremely sensitive. I was confronted with three strong emotional things on thursday. First, my life is in transition and I am fearful of losing my friends as I become the person I really am. Second, on the same note, in my relationship with Jane she was always dominant, and I liked that, I looked up to her and one day wanted to be more like her, my feelings are different now, her life is wonderful for her, but not right for me. Since that dynamic no longer works for us we have to come up with a new dynamic, and thats scary. Third, my friend who I love was in pain. She is lonely. I have the "gift" of being able to feel other people's pain, but to feel the pain of my friend who I love, and the guilt of knowing I have contributed to this pain, mixed with the fear of losing these friends. I would have been overwhelmed if I had allowed myself to feel so many feelings so I blocked them out, and so instead of enjoying the day I was crippled with anxiety.
Yesterday I wanted to buy a card for Jane to tell her how much I love her. I realized it she would like a homemade card better, she has always appreciated the things I have made for her, so I made her a card using a picture I took of her in a pair of joke glasses I brought to make them laugh (that the brat said looked like something I would wear! brat!)
An upload of a photograph of a photocopy of a collage made of mass media images and a photograph
Dr. T made many excellent points yesterday. Another point she made was, as you become more and more yourself you lose friends. Some people are no longer compatible and they fall away. The true friends adjust. I felt no pangs of anxiety as she said these words. I know what these women are. They are such true friends. They are better friends to me than I have ever been to them. Now is my chance to return the favor.
mood: immense gratitude; HOT (90 something- indoors!)
ParadiseI met Jane and Carrie freshman year at college, we will call the school St. Poopastica since that is what the three of us called it. It is actually a fantastic school, but the students there are mostly sheltered small-town people, many of them quite judgemental and hypocritical.
I met Carrie first at a "get to know each other" event. She was from the suburbs and I from the city. I made a comment "people think the inner-city is so scary but it isn't. People think everyone has a gun or something, I mean I have one, but not every one does" and she said "really?" I have teased her quite a bit about that. She also wore a terrible purple t-shirt with wolves and mountains on it. The most warm sincere lovely person you will ever meet. I met Jane through Carrie. She was Carrie's roommate. A tiny woman with a curmudgenly personality, with no apologies. I love her I love her I love her.
Jane and Carrie took interest in the weird "alternative" things that interested me. Freshman year the three of us would have dance parties to my Big Audio Dynamite CD and Jane's Dangerous Minds soundtrack. Years later a girl from down the hall told us she got jealous of us because it sounded like we had so much fun at the end of the hall, she was the exception, the rest of the hall was annoyed by it.
I had a hard time with grades, my anxiety disorder made studying very hard- the more important it was to me, the harder it was to study. I could get C's on tests without studying, but C grades dont get you into the Physical therapy program. I had moved off campus, transferred to another school in town, and when I was in a depression I wouldn't call them for a months, but they stuck with me.
Ten years from when we met, Jane is married with a baby on the way, Carrie is engaged to a man who has been in love with her since freshman year, and we are all still friends. But not enough. Jane is pretty lonely. She has moved to the small town she is from. Her husband is a farmer out there so there is no way she can move closer to us. Her only friends out there is a sister in law who doesn't like to do active things like she does, and a high school "friend" who behaves jealously and competatively, who Jane is unable to admit to her husband that she doesn't like (how do you say you dont like a friend you have had for 20 years?)
Jane's cabin is adorable. We soaked in the bathwater-temperature lake for literally about 7 hours (we had an hour break in there for a snacky dinner. On the way home we saw wild turkeys and a baby horse. It should have been fun for me but I was terribly anxious the whole time. I am in paradise, with the best friends a girl could ever have, one of these friends needs me, and I have the audacity to be overwhelmed with anxiety?
wrinkled fingersI had a therapy appointment yesterday and Dr. T suggested something that made sense. I, an INFJ am extremely sensitive. I was confronted with three strong emotional things on thursday. First, my life is in transition and I am fearful of losing my friends as I become the person I really am. Second, on the same note, in my relationship with Jane she was always dominant, and I liked that, I looked up to her and one day wanted to be more like her, my feelings are different now, her life is wonderful for her, but not right for me. Since that dynamic no longer works for us we have to come up with a new dynamic, and thats scary. Third, my friend who I love was in pain. She is lonely. I have the "gift" of being able to feel other people's pain, but to feel the pain of my friend who I love, and the guilt of knowing I have contributed to this pain, mixed with the fear of losing these friends. I would have been overwhelmed if I had allowed myself to feel so many feelings so I blocked them out, and so instead of enjoying the day I was crippled with anxiety.
Yesterday I wanted to buy a card for Jane to tell her how much I love her. I realized it she would like a homemade card better, she has always appreciated the things I have made for her, so I made her a card using a picture I took of her in a pair of joke glasses I brought to make them laugh (that the brat said looked like something I would wear! brat!)
An upload of a photograph of a photocopy of a collage made of mass media images and a photographDr. T made many excellent points yesterday. Another point she made was, as you become more and more yourself you lose friends. Some people are no longer compatible and they fall away. The true friends adjust. I felt no pangs of anxiety as she said these words. I know what these women are. They are such true friends. They are better friends to me than I have ever been to them. Now is my chance to return the favor.
mood: immense gratitude; HOT (90 something- indoors!)
Friday, July 15, 2005
Curators are more special
I have now had a funny experience with a third assistant curator today.
On the street I walked passed an assistant curator today and wanted to ignore him but felt like I should say "hi." he got solid eye contact with me but didn't say a word. Sure its weird to have someone you don't recognize say hi to you like they know you, but what I do when someone recognizes me but I don't remember them is act polite and then try to remember who they are. Having the third funny experience I now understand what happened all three times.
If I walked past David Hammonds on the street I would probably, out of respect, say nothing, or with great deference say "I love your work" and keep going. I can see now that the assistant curators expect the same treatment as the artists. With this guy I can understand how he acted, just because it was out of context and I didn't introduce myself, but since this is my third similar experience, I can see that the assistant curators are "big shots" and expect to be treated as such. I imagine it is along the same lines as me saying hi to the vice president of the airline while passing him on the street.
Shame on me for my irrevrence, but this amuses me. I enjoyed being snubbed by them. I like that I "didn't know my place" and overstepped my bounds by in one case introducing myself at the airport, in another, saying hi on the street, and in the other case, my worst behavior of all: existing. I think why I like it so much is because they snubbed me so stereotypically. I am a "nobody" in the shadow of brilliant assistant curators, and, from my ignorance of knowing this, have been privledged to interact with them, since anyone else would know better. I am the janitor who mistakes the CEO for an office drone and has the audacity to comment about the weather. Its in the script and I get to live it :)
mood: touched by greatness LOL
On the street I walked passed an assistant curator today and wanted to ignore him but felt like I should say "hi." he got solid eye contact with me but didn't say a word. Sure its weird to have someone you don't recognize say hi to you like they know you, but what I do when someone recognizes me but I don't remember them is act polite and then try to remember who they are. Having the third funny experience I now understand what happened all three times.
If I walked past David Hammonds on the street I would probably, out of respect, say nothing, or with great deference say "I love your work" and keep going. I can see now that the assistant curators expect the same treatment as the artists. With this guy I can understand how he acted, just because it was out of context and I didn't introduce myself, but since this is my third similar experience, I can see that the assistant curators are "big shots" and expect to be treated as such. I imagine it is along the same lines as me saying hi to the vice president of the airline while passing him on the street.
Shame on me for my irrevrence, but this amuses me. I enjoyed being snubbed by them. I like that I "didn't know my place" and overstepped my bounds by in one case introducing myself at the airport, in another, saying hi on the street, and in the other case, my worst behavior of all: existing. I think why I like it so much is because they snubbed me so stereotypically. I am a "nobody" in the shadow of brilliant assistant curators, and, from my ignorance of knowing this, have been privledged to interact with them, since anyone else would know better. I am the janitor who mistakes the CEO for an office drone and has the audacity to comment about the weather. Its in the script and I get to live it :)
mood: touched by greatness LOL
Thursday, July 14, 2005
The latest findings leave a bad taste in my mouth
Am I the only one who has noticed that suddenly tons of damning "discoveries" have appeared about the dangers of Aspartame (Nutrasweet) at the same time Sucralose (Splenda) appears on the market?
We will learn about the dangers of Sucralose soon enough, when some new carcinogenic sweetner has been approved by the FDA.
Hmmm, and stevia, an HERB isn't approved to be sold as a sweetner- only as a "nutritional supplement" hmmm.
We will learn about the dangers of Sucralose soon enough, when some new carcinogenic sweetner has been approved by the FDA.
Hmmm, and stevia, an HERB isn't approved to be sold as a sweetner- only as a "nutritional supplement" hmmm.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Weight Loss
In contemplating what I want in a living situation, I have zeroed in on the two biggest roadblocks I face on my journey to inner peace. As I examined the roadblocks more closely I realized they are the same thing. I need to lose weight.
I carry around 25-45 unneeded pounds on my body. Each extra pound is a pound that makes my life more difficult. Imagine how it would feel to carry around two 20 pound dumbells everywhere you went. Every step is more of a struggle. My muscles and joints ache. I don't WANT to move. So I have self-imposed limits on where or how far I can go. I lose freedom. I give myself a disability.
it's not just the physical distances I am unwilling to travel, it's the personal ones too. I carry the weight of insecurity. I I am less likely to be open and myself. I am unwilling to express interest in someone I would like. Even if I have that person in bed, and they are touching me, and commenting on how beautiful my body is, I don't believe them. I know they would prefer someone who's body is different. And I don't relax.
My body isn't the only place that I carry unneeded weight. My home is weighed down with material items. I am unwilling to give up something that I own, but no longer need, out of fear that I may never find it again. This applies to the objects themselves, or the emotions they evoke. I used to love the film "Awakenings" because it was the only way I could get myself to cry. I found that with many of the films I own(ed.) I bought them because I was afraid that if I didn't own them I could never see them again, or more importantly, never feel the emotion they evoked again.
Carrying this material weight is as disabling as carrying around physical weight. The time and energy it takes to maintain, organize, and have access to all of these things is as taxing as carrying around those dumbells. When I need something important, like the phone number of an old friend who's birthday I still remember...I can't find it, because I have too many recipies and bank statements to sort through to find the scrap of paper...and the birthday passes.
I have lost some weight this week. It wasn't enough to tell the difference yet, but I have learned that a little bit of effort at a time adds up to something big in the long run. I was able to part with about 60 movies. I was freed from the space they take up and got $25 worth of credit at a nearby video store. I was able to part with 8 bottles of perfume and 5 bottles of scented lotion. I got rid of a candleholder set. I also have gathered about 20 magazines that have followed me home from the airport, which I will bring back to the crew lounge. This feels negligible to write these out. But that feeling is why I am doing it. I wont get rid of everything overnight, so I need to mentally reward myself for the bit at a time that I let go of. It will eventually add up to something.
mood: impatient (I want to lose all the weight-now!) Anna Nicole?
I carry around 25-45 unneeded pounds on my body. Each extra pound is a pound that makes my life more difficult. Imagine how it would feel to carry around two 20 pound dumbells everywhere you went. Every step is more of a struggle. My muscles and joints ache. I don't WANT to move. So I have self-imposed limits on where or how far I can go. I lose freedom. I give myself a disability.
it's not just the physical distances I am unwilling to travel, it's the personal ones too. I carry the weight of insecurity. I I am less likely to be open and myself. I am unwilling to express interest in someone I would like. Even if I have that person in bed, and they are touching me, and commenting on how beautiful my body is, I don't believe them. I know they would prefer someone who's body is different. And I don't relax.
My body isn't the only place that I carry unneeded weight. My home is weighed down with material items. I am unwilling to give up something that I own, but no longer need, out of fear that I may never find it again. This applies to the objects themselves, or the emotions they evoke. I used to love the film "Awakenings" because it was the only way I could get myself to cry. I found that with many of the films I own(ed.) I bought them because I was afraid that if I didn't own them I could never see them again, or more importantly, never feel the emotion they evoked again.
Carrying this material weight is as disabling as carrying around physical weight. The time and energy it takes to maintain, organize, and have access to all of these things is as taxing as carrying around those dumbells. When I need something important, like the phone number of an old friend who's birthday I still remember...I can't find it, because I have too many recipies and bank statements to sort through to find the scrap of paper...and the birthday passes.
I have lost some weight this week. It wasn't enough to tell the difference yet, but I have learned that a little bit of effort at a time adds up to something big in the long run. I was able to part with about 60 movies. I was freed from the space they take up and got $25 worth of credit at a nearby video store. I was able to part with 8 bottles of perfume and 5 bottles of scented lotion. I got rid of a candleholder set. I also have gathered about 20 magazines that have followed me home from the airport, which I will bring back to the crew lounge. This feels negligible to write these out. But that feeling is why I am doing it. I wont get rid of everything overnight, so I need to mentally reward myself for the bit at a time that I let go of. It will eventually add up to something.
mood: impatient (I want to lose all the weight-now!) Anna Nicole?
Good Dream
I took a nap this afternoon and just awoke from a cool dream.
It was all about moving. My best friends Jane and Carrie were packing for her, (Emma was hardly in the dream) and when I got out of bed in my dream I walked into the kitchen to see a huge, empty looking house, a clean slate waiting for my personal expression.
A possible interpretation of this dream could be that I should live alone, but it's too late for that, and it seems silly for a person who is home 3 days a week to pay rent for all 7. Another (very likely) interpretation is that I am so happy to have Emma move. It's not HER I dislike, its how she interacts with me. She is very set in her ways, and her perception of the world, and she seems to believe that her perception is correct. She is not so different than most young Americans (she is 25.) We leave college thinking the world is going to be handed to us on a platter. I think everyone has to work their way up or go through a professional heartbreak to break that bubble of invincibility, she was unemployed for quite some time, (I was NEVER home alone then!) but that didn't seem to do the trick for her.
And the way she interacts with me has so much to do with how she percieves me. I am an introvert, but until just recently I have tested exactly half introvert and half extrovert. She would interpret my outgoingness and friendliness as somehow being false. Its fair to say that many aspects of social interactions between people are routine, but that doesn't make them false, you say and do certain things because they make a person feel comfortable- the social cues are a means to an end- to make the other feel calm and welcomed. Such dynamics are hardly false they are called human interaction.
I do sometimes struggle with figuring out the right social cues, especially since I have spent a good part of my life feeling very different from the majority of people- but many people can see where I am coming from- that my heart is good, but she seems stuck on my percieved negative quality. Perhaps her interpretation of me is a response to my interpretation of her. She strikes me as negative and quite high on herself, I like her in spite of (and sometimes because of) it, and maybe she senses these feelings and thats why she percieves me as fake.
In the end I think we needed each other back then. We were in a precarious living situation with a pathological lying full blown wino alcoholic (the kind you see on the street corners panhandling) and we kept eachother sane by agreeing with how fucked up the situation was (the other two in the house were very wishy washy about it) We dont need each other anymore. In fact, we arent good for each other. I know this for certian. There are things I do that I know piss her off and I honestly dont care. No one should live like that.
In another part of my dream I had sex with a 40 something man who looked like a mix between Louis Gosset Junior and 50 cent. In my dream he was my boyfriend, and I looked like Halle Berry. That part of the dream was not as much a horny dream as a love dream. I was sick in bed, and my hair was a mess and I had no makeup, but he still had sex with me and made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world (well duh! I looked Halle Berry) We didn't kiss of course (because I was sick) but it was so loving and familiar, and I remamber thinking to myself in the dream- he isnt rich, he isn't glamorous, but he loves me- he is who I should have searching for all along. I interpret this dream to mean I should look more like Halle Berry ;)
mood: happy
It was all about moving. My best friends Jane and Carrie were packing for her, (Emma was hardly in the dream) and when I got out of bed in my dream I walked into the kitchen to see a huge, empty looking house, a clean slate waiting for my personal expression.
A possible interpretation of this dream could be that I should live alone, but it's too late for that, and it seems silly for a person who is home 3 days a week to pay rent for all 7. Another (very likely) interpretation is that I am so happy to have Emma move. It's not HER I dislike, its how she interacts with me. She is very set in her ways, and her perception of the world, and she seems to believe that her perception is correct. She is not so different than most young Americans (she is 25.) We leave college thinking the world is going to be handed to us on a platter. I think everyone has to work their way up or go through a professional heartbreak to break that bubble of invincibility, she was unemployed for quite some time, (I was NEVER home alone then!) but that didn't seem to do the trick for her.
And the way she interacts with me has so much to do with how she percieves me. I am an introvert, but until just recently I have tested exactly half introvert and half extrovert. She would interpret my outgoingness and friendliness as somehow being false. Its fair to say that many aspects of social interactions between people are routine, but that doesn't make them false, you say and do certain things because they make a person feel comfortable- the social cues are a means to an end- to make the other feel calm and welcomed. Such dynamics are hardly false they are called human interaction.
I do sometimes struggle with figuring out the right social cues, especially since I have spent a good part of my life feeling very different from the majority of people- but many people can see where I am coming from- that my heart is good, but she seems stuck on my percieved negative quality. Perhaps her interpretation of me is a response to my interpretation of her. She strikes me as negative and quite high on herself, I like her in spite of (and sometimes because of) it, and maybe she senses these feelings and thats why she percieves me as fake.
In the end I think we needed each other back then. We were in a precarious living situation with a pathological lying full blown wino alcoholic (the kind you see on the street corners panhandling) and we kept eachother sane by agreeing with how fucked up the situation was (the other two in the house were very wishy washy about it) We dont need each other anymore. In fact, we arent good for each other. I know this for certian. There are things I do that I know piss her off and I honestly dont care. No one should live like that.
In another part of my dream I had sex with a 40 something man who looked like a mix between Louis Gosset Junior and 50 cent. In my dream he was my boyfriend, and I looked like Halle Berry. That part of the dream was not as much a horny dream as a love dream. I was sick in bed, and my hair was a mess and I had no makeup, but he still had sex with me and made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world (well duh! I looked Halle Berry) We didn't kiss of course (because I was sick) but it was so loving and familiar, and I remamber thinking to myself in the dream- he isnt rich, he isn't glamorous, but he loves me- he is who I should have searching for all along. I interpret this dream to mean I should look more like Halle Berry ;)
mood: happy
Thursday, July 07, 2005
A photo of me
In case you ever wondered what I look like:
A hint: to get a photo of me, you will need my real name ;)
A hint: to get a photo of me, you will need my real name ;)
Puts a lump in my throat
I think of TBG every time I hear this song.
Only This Moment - Royksopp
[Male sings]
Only this moment (Holds us together)
Close to perfection (Nothing is out there)
No one to guide us (Lost in the senses)
Deep down inside I know our love will die
Only this moment (Holds us together)
Lost in confusion (Feelings are out there)
Scared of the ocean (Doubting intentions)
Deep down inside I know our love will die
[Female sings]
Stay or forever go
Play or you’ll never know
We haven’t decided
You can’t deny it’s all you’ve been waiting for
Stay or forever go
Play or you’ll never know
Your spirit’s divided
You will decide if I’m all you’ve been waiting for
[Male]
Got in my head
Have Been part of my twist
By the force of the nature
Revealing our fates
And our words don’t make sense and I do understand,
Falling in love isn’t part of our plan
Forces within me, makes reason with lust
But I try to accept it and not think it works
Because I know I might lose you by taking the chance
But love without pain isn’t really romance
Only this moment (Holds us together)
Close to perfection (Nothing is out there)
Always beside us (Trusting my senses)
Deep down inside (I know i will survive)
Only this moment (Holds us together)
Close to perfection (Nothing else out there)
Always beside us (Tusting my senses)
Deep down inside I know I will survive
mood: regretful (I think I should have been more protective of my feelings)
Only This Moment - Royksopp
[Male sings]
Only this moment (Holds us together)
Close to perfection (Nothing is out there)
No one to guide us (Lost in the senses)
Deep down inside I know our love will die
Only this moment (Holds us together)
Lost in confusion (Feelings are out there)
Scared of the ocean (Doubting intentions)
Deep down inside I know our love will die
[Female sings]
Stay or forever go
Play or you’ll never know
We haven’t decided
You can’t deny it’s all you’ve been waiting for
Stay or forever go
Play or you’ll never know
Your spirit’s divided
You will decide if I’m all you’ve been waiting for
[Male]
Got in my head
Have Been part of my twist
By the force of the nature
Revealing our fates
And our words don’t make sense and I do understand,
Falling in love isn’t part of our plan
Forces within me, makes reason with lust
But I try to accept it and not think it works
Because I know I might lose you by taking the chance
But love without pain isn’t really romance
Only this moment (Holds us together)
Close to perfection (Nothing is out there)
Always beside us (Trusting my senses)
Deep down inside (I know i will survive)
Only this moment (Holds us together)
Close to perfection (Nothing else out there)
Always beside us (Tusting my senses)
Deep down inside I know I will survive
mood: regretful (I think I should have been more protective of my feelings)
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
A fantasy I had
What a dream come true...August 1st, two weeks to live by myself? I swear I must be dreaming!
The dream gets better. A flight attendant backed into the room with the ironing board while I was in there she said sorry and we both just smiled. When I walked to the elevator she was there. I asked her where she was flying and she told me she had a turn. We chatted about how it's a hassle to get to and from work, and how its nicer to overnight in another city. I mentioned that its easier for me becuase I take the bus/train so I don't have to park, but she lived in the suburbs so that wouldn't be possible. She asked about my neighborhood and said she wanted to move their sometime soon. It took me a second than "click!" I mentioned the room, and she seemed excited...heres where it gets scary, she is living with her brother right now, why? She just lived for a year in India! She is an anthropology and classic literature major. It felt like the will of the universe.
Even better, it was morning, I was hopped up on cappucino, and so when she said "India" I got all girly and cheezy and bubbly which is annoying to many. But she seemed amused. Someone who I can relax and be giddy when I feel giddy with!?! (75% of the time Emma would seem suspicious when I would behave this way, like my lapses into sorority sister girlyness were somehow false, like the cynical and bitter aspects of my personality are all that are allowed) She sounded excited to have a friend to sample yummy foods from different ethnicities (I live blocks from a mile of resturaunts) I am so excited I feel like squeaking like a co-ed!
My fantasy appeared today as I waited for the first of three mechanical issues today to be resolved. I was thinking of how I am ready and excited to get rid of a lot of stuff...I am ready to let go. I found myself sighing, "uh! I hope this new roommate wont think I am a freak becuase I have so much stuff. I wish I didn't have to tell her. And then I realized...who says she has to know?
When I met Emma I was too depressed to do much more than get up and go to work. But today, I am strong enough that I can get rid of 15 of my 20 perfumes; 40 of my 75 movies; 100 of my 300 CD's, 50 of my 100 garments. She never needs to know how bad it was. I could say "I just gave a whole bunch of stuff to goodwill- uh! it felt so good" she never needs to know just how much I used to cling to, I could say "it was a LOT" but what she would envision wouldn't be as bad as the real thing.
She will definately know I am a nut job, but I can let her know I am a nut job in a good way. With the exception of my messiness, I can mock most of my negative qualities. I think its funny how much I am on the computer (but I need a laptop, she doesn't need to see QUITE how much) I think it's funny how much caffiene I NEED. I think its funny that on many days off I am only dressed for an hour a day, the rest of the time I am in my pyjamas with a big messy afro. I will still be messy I am sure, but she doesn't need to see the pathalogical messy, she can just see the funny messy. And I have the first 2 weeks in Aug. to do go through and donate the stuff :) I was even thinking I will try to get things as spic and span for the temporary roommate, and when I feel mortified about something I missed, I will fix it and get to start fresh with the new one :)
I could be fantasizing about making out with Justin Kirk on the beach in the bahamas, instead I am fantasizing about being in my house, cleaning it. Who said I need mental help?
mood: tired! (5am wake up...EASTERN time! (4AM my time!)
The dream gets better. A flight attendant backed into the room with the ironing board while I was in there she said sorry and we both just smiled. When I walked to the elevator she was there. I asked her where she was flying and she told me she had a turn. We chatted about how it's a hassle to get to and from work, and how its nicer to overnight in another city. I mentioned that its easier for me becuase I take the bus/train so I don't have to park, but she lived in the suburbs so that wouldn't be possible. She asked about my neighborhood and said she wanted to move their sometime soon. It took me a second than "click!" I mentioned the room, and she seemed excited...heres where it gets scary, she is living with her brother right now, why? She just lived for a year in India! She is an anthropology and classic literature major. It felt like the will of the universe.
Even better, it was morning, I was hopped up on cappucino, and so when she said "India" I got all girly and cheezy and bubbly which is annoying to many. But she seemed amused. Someone who I can relax and be giddy when I feel giddy with!?! (75% of the time Emma would seem suspicious when I would behave this way, like my lapses into sorority sister girlyness were somehow false, like the cynical and bitter aspects of my personality are all that are allowed) She sounded excited to have a friend to sample yummy foods from different ethnicities (I live blocks from a mile of resturaunts) I am so excited I feel like squeaking like a co-ed!
My fantasy appeared today as I waited for the first of three mechanical issues today to be resolved. I was thinking of how I am ready and excited to get rid of a lot of stuff...I am ready to let go. I found myself sighing, "uh! I hope this new roommate wont think I am a freak becuase I have so much stuff. I wish I didn't have to tell her. And then I realized...who says she has to know?
When I met Emma I was too depressed to do much more than get up and go to work. But today, I am strong enough that I can get rid of 15 of my 20 perfumes; 40 of my 75 movies; 100 of my 300 CD's, 50 of my 100 garments. She never needs to know how bad it was. I could say "I just gave a whole bunch of stuff to goodwill- uh! it felt so good" she never needs to know just how much I used to cling to, I could say "it was a LOT" but what she would envision wouldn't be as bad as the real thing.
She will definately know I am a nut job, but I can let her know I am a nut job in a good way. With the exception of my messiness, I can mock most of my negative qualities. I think its funny how much I am on the computer (but I need a laptop, she doesn't need to see QUITE how much) I think it's funny how much caffiene I NEED. I think its funny that on many days off I am only dressed for an hour a day, the rest of the time I am in my pyjamas with a big messy afro. I will still be messy I am sure, but she doesn't need to see the pathalogical messy, she can just see the funny messy. And I have the first 2 weeks in Aug. to do go through and donate the stuff :) I was even thinking I will try to get things as spic and span for the temporary roommate, and when I feel mortified about something I missed, I will fix it and get to start fresh with the new one :)
I could be fantasizing about making out with Justin Kirk on the beach in the bahamas, instead I am fantasizing about being in my house, cleaning it. Who said I need mental help?
mood: tired! (5am wake up...EASTERN time! (4AM my time!)
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Save me from the beautiful blonde!
I have had 5 beers. I just hung out with my crew and had a great time. My FO is pretty, slim, and blonde, and she wants to hang out with me. At the end of the trip she is going out with another cute girl (with implants may I mention) and she wants me to come out with them.
Is this girl shallow or boring? No. She is smart and funny. I have no reason to not want to become good friends with her except horrible, shallow, disgusting, unfair jealousy.
I am going to go this week, and hopefully I will have a dring and chill out. I think I may be a bit more attractive than I realize, but this girl is still in a comletely different attractiveness league as I am. I dont take that to mean she is better than me or I am better than her, but it leads to moments of unbelievable awkwardness as the wing man comes to talk to you or even worse, you are alone while the "hot girl" is dancing with some guy- and you feel hideous, even if your not.
I have awful flashbacks of a time I went out dancing with a charlize theron look-alike, I may as well have been invisible, and she certianly wasn't. Half the night she was being hit on, and it's not that I wanted to be hit on, I just didn't want to be reminded that she was being hit on not me. To make it worse she was a bit into herself and this girl is really cool. I don't want hot friends do you hear me! Its not abou twho a person is on the inside its appearance only! I fly with her for 2 weeks so expect alot of posts full of envy and shallowness.
mood: tipsy, envious, and pleased (new friend?) :)
Is this girl shallow or boring? No. She is smart and funny. I have no reason to not want to become good friends with her except horrible, shallow, disgusting, unfair jealousy.
I am going to go this week, and hopefully I will have a dring and chill out. I think I may be a bit more attractive than I realize, but this girl is still in a comletely different attractiveness league as I am. I dont take that to mean she is better than me or I am better than her, but it leads to moments of unbelievable awkwardness as the wing man comes to talk to you or even worse, you are alone while the "hot girl" is dancing with some guy- and you feel hideous, even if your not.
I have awful flashbacks of a time I went out dancing with a charlize theron look-alike, I may as well have been invisible, and she certianly wasn't. Half the night she was being hit on, and it's not that I wanted to be hit on, I just didn't want to be reminded that she was being hit on not me. To make it worse she was a bit into herself and this girl is really cool. I don't want hot friends do you hear me! Its not abou twho a person is on the inside its appearance only! I fly with her for 2 weeks so expect alot of posts full of envy and shallowness.
mood: tipsy, envious, and pleased (new friend?) :)
Saturday, July 02, 2005
The blessing of boredom
I think anyone can have success with a therapy assignment the day it has been suggested. You leave the office full of gusto and empowerment thinking "I am going to change for the better" and then you do your assignment and it's successful and then you feel so great. But what good is an assignment if it doesn't stick? A person doesn't go to therapy for a day of feeling successful they go because something is keeping them from being successful and they want to get rid of that interfering thing. Today I realized that I am doing something differently.
I am a woman with big ideas. I have the brains and imagination to create or accomplish great things- but my body fights my brain. I can say "do it! do it! do it!" but if my body doesn't want to act, it wont budge. My cleaning habits were the #1 thing that brought me back to therapy (besides that, at the time, I didn't think I needed much therapy.) Half of my clothes I never wear, I want to get rid of these clothes, but in my head a two hour project like going through my closet seemed equivilent to a triathalon. Now of course if I would just stand up and start doing it I would feel fine within five minutes, but I would be so paralyzed by anxiety that I would just sit on the couch saying "10 minutes more then I will, 10 minutes more, 10 minutes more" while my body pickled in cortisol and adreniline.
Dr. T seemed to see the problem while I was still describing it. She asked if I felt good after I finished a task, and of course the answer was no, I felt worse, because then I had a hundred more things to do. She gave me an assignment to do one thing, and then be done. Reward myself and expect nothing more of myself that day. It went great, and changed the way I thought about accomplishments.
This morning I was sluggish. I didn't want to do anything, at all. What I really wanted was to go back to bed. I had had plenty of rest and cappucino, so physical fatigue wasn't the issue. I went to blockbuster to exchange movies, I got a terrible movie ("O" -only made it through a half hour) so I walked outside to exchange it again. I felt the breeze on my face and was stopped with embarrassment. It is a Saturday, and the weather is AMAZING. What will they think at blockbuster if I come in twice on a day like today? I sat down on my stoop and just watched the scene. I said "I should be out on a bike ride, or call one of my friends." I wondered why I didn't want to, was I depressed?
I sat and watched girls wearing peasant skirts and guys with vintage t-shirts coming and going and knew thats not what I wanted to be doing today. I didn't want to be cute, I didn't want to be productive, I didn't want to have to form sentances. I wasn't depressed, I felt no hopelessness or anxiety, in fact I felt quite calm, I just didn't want to do anything. I eventually went to blockbuster and picked out a mainstream, unchallenging romantic comedy, and it hit the spot.
I had a handful of crisises thrown at me at once this week. One reason I think I am very qualified as a flight attendant is when there is an emergency, something clicks in my brain and I do what needs to be done. The only hitch in this skill is once the crisis is over, I crumble to pieces. This week I came up with a living plan, organized and switched over the utilites, called the landlord, created a rough roommate ad, interviewed and secured a temporary roommate until November, and found closure on the other things. The emergency period is over, and I work tomorrow- so today I allowed myself to crash. I still had to do laundry and dishes- but I didn't put added expectations on myself. Even to go on a bike ride.
The therapy assignment of only doing a number of things does not reduce the amount I accomplish. When I am (was?) hard on myself nothing was getting done anyway, the difference is I was beating up on myself because of it. I got ALOT done in only a day in a half. Instead of punishing myself for accomplishing things by saying I have to do more, I have rewarded myself with a day to be a vegetable. And on this vegetable day I did 3 loads of laundry and the dishes :) I felt something very unfamiliar today...boredom. I know most people hate the feeling of boredom but for me it was such a relief. I am used to quiet moments being full of anxiety about what I need to do next. But today I gave myself a reward- boredom.
mood: lazy -lucky me!
I am a woman with big ideas. I have the brains and imagination to create or accomplish great things- but my body fights my brain. I can say "do it! do it! do it!" but if my body doesn't want to act, it wont budge. My cleaning habits were the #1 thing that brought me back to therapy (besides that, at the time, I didn't think I needed much therapy.) Half of my clothes I never wear, I want to get rid of these clothes, but in my head a two hour project like going through my closet seemed equivilent to a triathalon. Now of course if I would just stand up and start doing it I would feel fine within five minutes, but I would be so paralyzed by anxiety that I would just sit on the couch saying "10 minutes more then I will, 10 minutes more, 10 minutes more" while my body pickled in cortisol and adreniline.
Dr. T seemed to see the problem while I was still describing it. She asked if I felt good after I finished a task, and of course the answer was no, I felt worse, because then I had a hundred more things to do. She gave me an assignment to do one thing, and then be done. Reward myself and expect nothing more of myself that day. It went great, and changed the way I thought about accomplishments.
This morning I was sluggish. I didn't want to do anything, at all. What I really wanted was to go back to bed. I had had plenty of rest and cappucino, so physical fatigue wasn't the issue. I went to blockbuster to exchange movies, I got a terrible movie ("O" -only made it through a half hour) so I walked outside to exchange it again. I felt the breeze on my face and was stopped with embarrassment. It is a Saturday, and the weather is AMAZING. What will they think at blockbuster if I come in twice on a day like today? I sat down on my stoop and just watched the scene. I said "I should be out on a bike ride, or call one of my friends." I wondered why I didn't want to, was I depressed?
I sat and watched girls wearing peasant skirts and guys with vintage t-shirts coming and going and knew thats not what I wanted to be doing today. I didn't want to be cute, I didn't want to be productive, I didn't want to have to form sentances. I wasn't depressed, I felt no hopelessness or anxiety, in fact I felt quite calm, I just didn't want to do anything. I eventually went to blockbuster and picked out a mainstream, unchallenging romantic comedy, and it hit the spot.
I had a handful of crisises thrown at me at once this week. One reason I think I am very qualified as a flight attendant is when there is an emergency, something clicks in my brain and I do what needs to be done. The only hitch in this skill is once the crisis is over, I crumble to pieces. This week I came up with a living plan, organized and switched over the utilites, called the landlord, created a rough roommate ad, interviewed and secured a temporary roommate until November, and found closure on the other things. The emergency period is over, and I work tomorrow- so today I allowed myself to crash. I still had to do laundry and dishes- but I didn't put added expectations on myself. Even to go on a bike ride.
The therapy assignment of only doing a number of things does not reduce the amount I accomplish. When I am (was?) hard on myself nothing was getting done anyway, the difference is I was beating up on myself because of it. I got ALOT done in only a day in a half. Instead of punishing myself for accomplishing things by saying I have to do more, I have rewarded myself with a day to be a vegetable. And on this vegetable day I did 3 loads of laundry and the dishes :) I felt something very unfamiliar today...boredom. I know most people hate the feeling of boredom but for me it was such a relief. I am used to quiet moments being full of anxiety about what I need to do next. But today I gave myself a reward- boredom.
mood: lazy -lucky me!
Friday, July 01, 2005
I heart huckabees
I enjoyed it, and the frame of mind it put me in.
I understood it, but shallowly, but thats alright. I know I could get everything if I watched it twice more, and if I took a philosopy survey course I am sure I could understand subtle jokes and references that I missed, but thats alright. I don't need to understand and grasp each and every element of each and every object and event that I run across. I can understand it at the level I am at, then revisit it again later if I want. Or, I can be inspired to read a philosopy book. Or both. One way or another I don't have to grasp and cling to and control every thing. I can enjoy the process of learning about things that intrest me- I don't have to feel shame for not knowing everything without even trying.
What a perfect film for me to see right now :) It touches on so much I am thinking about. The therapy and medication is great- but once my mental illness is contained I still have to deal with life and the questions that everyone has to deal with. Overcoming the mental illness is important, but only because it is a hurdle in me meeting my potential (by, for instance, telling me I have to understand everything all at once- forcing me to avoid stimulating things)
Please watch it K? I love it.
mood: philisophical-ee
I understood it, but shallowly, but thats alright. I know I could get everything if I watched it twice more, and if I took a philosopy survey course I am sure I could understand subtle jokes and references that I missed, but thats alright. I don't need to understand and grasp each and every element of each and every object and event that I run across. I can understand it at the level I am at, then revisit it again later if I want. Or, I can be inspired to read a philosopy book. Or both. One way or another I don't have to grasp and cling to and control every thing. I can enjoy the process of learning about things that intrest me- I don't have to feel shame for not knowing everything without even trying.
What a perfect film for me to see right now :) It touches on so much I am thinking about. The therapy and medication is great- but once my mental illness is contained I still have to deal with life and the questions that everyone has to deal with. Overcoming the mental illness is important, but only because it is a hurdle in me meeting my potential (by, for instance, telling me I have to understand everything all at once- forcing me to avoid stimulating things)
Please watch it K? I love it.
mood: philisophical-ee
Smooth Move Ex-Lax
A week ago I was walking through the airport and felt a moment of pride. In 2002 when I was at the bottom, so low that I had a plan on how I would end my life, I agreed to give life a chance. Part of the agreement was I wouldn't do things the same way anymore- I wasn't going to be ambitious anymore, but I was willing to ride life out for awhile before making my "final" decision. I walked down the hall past huge, beautiful airplanes and reflected on how close my life is to the life I dreamt of having when I was young. I may be a little fatter and a little poorer than I imagined I would be, but then again, aren't we all? I felt so glad that I didn't give up- even though I saw nothing ahead of me but more pain.
That week, I read a post that related to my thoughts on the concourse. I was inspired by OG's attitude as she faced adversity. Her attitude kept her calm in crisis, so she could manuver her way out of it. I admired her attitude and faith, and said to myself "thats what you do when times are tough." Who knew I would faced with the opportunity to follow the example so soon?
When I learned Emma was moving in one month I couldn't form a thought I was so worried. I decided to sleep on it (not easy when your heart is pounding) but after posting about it and chatting with Satan for a bit (you heard me- Satan) I calmed down and was able to sleep. The next day I reflected on the thoughts I had while walking through the airport and OG's post and knew I had to embrace this as a positive- an opportunity to actively improve my life, even though I didn't choose to have that opportuinty at this moment. At thirty thousand feet my mind got to planning. And when I got home my body followed suit.
Things are going really smoothly with the moving process- both personally and with the process itself. Emma's mom left a message on the machine saying "I think you should choose happy instead of sad" which led me to assume Emma wasn't sure how to feel about this. I wrote her a "goodwill" card and gave her my copy of American Beauty (which she has told me literally 3 times that she wants if I am going to get rid of it.) In the card I wrote that she should choose happy. She is a person who wants to make life better, and isn't afraid of change, and that is admirable. She seemed to appreciate it.
I put the bills into files and tried to switch over the utilities to my name. I made a desision to only ask her to clean her room (I think the cleaning is the worst part of moving- and moving is hard enough.) I have already got all the bills programmed into my bill payer (proactive? me?) and Emma has already put in an application at an apartment :)
More great news, thanks to a GREAT presentation on my part (go Diana!) the owner is going to let me take over the lease 100% so I don't have to commit to anyone (making a pilot/flight attendant crashpad much more possible) and Emma's friend needs a temporary place to stay until november so I have 3 months to find a really solid, dependable roommate :)
Courage in the face of change is not a strong point for me (I am okay in a crisis, but after its over I fall to pieces.) Emma had the courage to make a change- scary as it may be, because how things were wasn't working. I had a choice to feel like a victim of circumstances, or embrace the change- and I am SO PROUD to have picked the latter!
mood: excited for the future :) (good anxious ;) )
That week, I read a post that related to my thoughts on the concourse. I was inspired by OG's attitude as she faced adversity. Her attitude kept her calm in crisis, so she could manuver her way out of it. I admired her attitude and faith, and said to myself "thats what you do when times are tough." Who knew I would faced with the opportunity to follow the example so soon?
When I learned Emma was moving in one month I couldn't form a thought I was so worried. I decided to sleep on it (not easy when your heart is pounding) but after posting about it and chatting with Satan for a bit (you heard me- Satan) I calmed down and was able to sleep. The next day I reflected on the thoughts I had while walking through the airport and OG's post and knew I had to embrace this as a positive- an opportunity to actively improve my life, even though I didn't choose to have that opportuinty at this moment. At thirty thousand feet my mind got to planning. And when I got home my body followed suit.
Things are going really smoothly with the moving process- both personally and with the process itself. Emma's mom left a message on the machine saying "I think you should choose happy instead of sad" which led me to assume Emma wasn't sure how to feel about this. I wrote her a "goodwill" card and gave her my copy of American Beauty (which she has told me literally 3 times that she wants if I am going to get rid of it.) In the card I wrote that she should choose happy. She is a person who wants to make life better, and isn't afraid of change, and that is admirable. She seemed to appreciate it.
I put the bills into files and tried to switch over the utilities to my name. I made a desision to only ask her to clean her room (I think the cleaning is the worst part of moving- and moving is hard enough.) I have already got all the bills programmed into my bill payer (proactive? me?) and Emma has already put in an application at an apartment :)
More great news, thanks to a GREAT presentation on my part (go Diana!) the owner is going to let me take over the lease 100% so I don't have to commit to anyone (making a pilot/flight attendant crashpad much more possible) and Emma's friend needs a temporary place to stay until november so I have 3 months to find a really solid, dependable roommate :)
Courage in the face of change is not a strong point for me (I am okay in a crisis, but after its over I fall to pieces.) Emma had the courage to make a change- scary as it may be, because how things were wasn't working. I had a choice to feel like a victim of circumstances, or embrace the change- and I am SO PROUD to have picked the latter!
mood: excited for the future :) (good anxious ;) )
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