I love being in the outdoors. The sunshine, heat, and light breeze. Today is absolutely beautiful. On a day like today I wish I was tubing or kayaking down a river. Everything is so lusciously green and blooming. I feel the most peaceful among nature and all its glory but I prefer water. I’ve always been attracted to water. I love the ocean. Snorkeling in Maui is one of the most fun times I’ve ever had. I embrace my sun kissed skin and salt water waved hair. I am a completely blissful person surrounded by a natural environment and all the wildlife. It makes me feel liberated and free. I jokingly tell people that if I could I’d quit my jobs and strip naked and run through the forest the rest of my life. Before the sun sets today you’ll find me in a forest, by a river, in my element. It’s that time of year again.
Month: May 2015
Festering Wounds.
Not all wounds bleed. Not all illnesses can be seen. If you think that cut will heal on its own you have another thing coming. The ability to heal begins within. I need to take my own advice. I have big gapping lacerations where the flesh may never recover. And they’re my fault. I didn’t tend to my lesions as I should. I left them open to the elements. Rather than focusing on caring for them as I should’ve. I believed they’d heal on their own in time. Time alone doesn’t heal all things. Scars are inevitable when healing by tertiary intent. You can’t grow a garden in soil with no nutritional content. You can’t build a city on quick sand. You can’t cover emotional scarring with a pretty smile. A festering wound won’t heal beautifully. Things won’t ever be the same.
The Practice of Nursing.
I just scheduled my NCLEX-PN Exam and it’s 16 days away. I Have been working towards this step for seven years. I’ve looked up to those who wear scrubs most of my life, having been in and out of the hospital. I never knew that it would take this much hard work and dedication to achieve what they already had. But it makes me proud. Looking back and seeing how far I’ve come and how much knowledge I’ve gained. It amazes me. I never gave up or thought I couldn’t do it. I pushed and pushed and pushed to get to where I am today. A lot of sweat, tears, blood, early mornings, and late nights. A lot of hardship and set backs. I worried like everyone does. But now that I’m going to take a test that determines if I’m really what nursing is made of…. I’m freaking terrified. But I’m ready. I’m ready to put just as much effort into this one test as I have my entire nursing school career. So with that being said, let the studying commense.
Love at First Sight.
He’s so smart. The kind of intelligence that’s never ending inquisitive. He asks me so many questions and I never shelter him from philosophy. He has such kind deep eyes. When he looks into mine he stares right into my soul. He told me once, while staring into my eyes that he could see himself in them. At first I believed this statement to be literal. I’ve since believed that he really knows the bond I have with him. He misses me even before I leave. He’s so much a part of my life, my drive and my dedication. He changed my life for the better. He helped me see what the true meaning of life is. He doesn’t know it and I never want him to feel responsible for it but he heals me every day. He doesn’t need that burden and I’d lift any weight off his shoulders. I’d move mountains for him. Cross oceans for him. I’ll work every day of my life to better myself so I can be the best I can be for him. I never want him to change. I don’t ever want him to become weary of the world and miss a single opportunity. I want him to embrace all that life has to offer and always be the first one out on the dance floor. I want him to love fully without fear of heart break. I want him to heal from any disappointments that come his way and forgive all the wrongs done to him. I want him to live a beautiful and wonderful full life. You see, with me it was love at first sight. I loved him before I even knew him. And he calls me mom.
A single crisp blank page. An entire secluded abyss that separates the chapters in my life. The divider that gives me choice. Am I brave enough to turn that page and see what’s to come? Pause for a moment in time to appreciate this God given lull. The first few chapters were so full of constant turmoil. Turn the page and continue reading inspite of the risk of greater damage. Or embrace this moment of peace like it is the last I’ll ever get? Perhaps mark this page, write my own bridge to the final chapters. Give myself a chance. Will this story end in happily ever after? Will I ever know if I don’t jump to take that risk? I write my bridge and free fall into the next portion of my story. God hates a coward and I live for adventure. The bridge consists of the most powerful three words that have ever existed in my story.
I forgive you.
And with the full realization of what that meant. I was set free.
Noah & Alley.
So I finally got some time to visit my Grandma today in her current residence. She had a fall and is residing in a rehabilitation center. It was just the two of us and our talks together are the best. Today’s topic of conversation was love. She told me the story I never get tired of hearing. She met my grandpa when she was 18. He was five years older and she thought he was way too old for her. She spoke of her resistance to his attempts at courting her. When she finally caved that man would walk miles in the blistering cold two foot snow banks just to see her. He put in so much effort to gain the love and respect of my grandma. He asked for her hand in marriage. He was Protestant and she was catholic. She said that she left that up to him. Her priest was against the marriage but that didn’t stop my grandpa. He became a catholic. He changed his beliefs and faith for the woman he loved and admired. That man took care of business and took care of his family. I love when Grandma talks about him. Her wrinkled face just lights up and those baby blues just sparkle. I don’t want a love story like Noah and Alley (The Notebook) I want one like Grandma and Grandpa.
You don’t have to.
I don’t understand why you put in so much effort. You go above and beyond. You bend until you break. And I could tell you this a million times but I’m not sure if you’ll ever listen.
You don’t have to.
You’re not alone. Not anymore. You buy me flowers. Take me out on dates. Apologize for not texting back right away. You cook me dinner. You spoil me rotten. As adorable as that is and as wanted as that makes me feel,
You don’t have to.
You hold me every night and you take away the pain. You build me up and you show me off. You make me laugh until I cry. You would do anything to make me smile. And I’ll say it again.
You don’t have to.
I love you without all the additional things. I love your flaws and your perfections, your sensitivities and your strengths, your insides and out. I love everything about you. And you know that;
You don’t have to.
But you do for me anyway. Because you care so much. Because you love me just as much as I love you. And this much is true;
I don’t have to. But I’d do anything for you.
Make it Happen.
Ever have those days you feel completely unmotivated and envy the people who are? That was me this morning. I could’ve slept all day. Then I do what I do when I have those mornings. I listen to music. Music is a huge motivator and encourager in my life. It completely affects my mood. Anything from songs about woman power to love songs. I somehow convince myself that the house isn’t going to clean itself and I need to make myself proud. Be a doer, a thinker, a creator. Do something for Christ’s sake woman! I get off my ass, get ready to face the day and make the most of my time. There isn’t ever a time I don’t feel accomplished once I’ve cleaned, run errands, or worked out. Put my makeup on, do my hair, organize, clean, and do those thousand squats cause your butt will get nowhere if you don’t. Learn something new, get the scarf done that you’ve been knitting for months, finish that book you’ve been half-ass reading. Do something to enrich your life. Do something to boost your mood. And when your man gets home you kiss him like there’s no tomorrow. Boost his mood too. Make it happen.
Words.
How can one thing mean so much and so little? Sticks and stones, actions speak louder, etc. Words can inspire and move us. A great book, a beautiful poem, the encouragement of a loved one. Words don’t only bring joy but they can devastate. If you’ve ever had to deliver bad news you know exactly what I mean. Telling someone their loved one died, saying it’s over in a relationship, or telling a child Santa Claus isn’t real. Once words are said they can never be taken back. There’s great power in that. But in order for those words to make a difference they must be perceived by the receiver. If the sender and receiver have no relationship then the odds are the reciever won’t be as emotionally involved in the communication. Words mean more when emotion is involved. Most of you reading this are tuning it out due to the scientific and emotionless delivery of this information. Point proven.
Now that the message is clear, I fell in love with words. I became enamored with poetry. I obsessed over the power of the verbal exchange. But I ignored the actions. I believed what was said and not what was done. I took doing and making for granted. Words didn’t get me far but it was a long love affair. What we had was hot, passionate, and distracting. But a distraction was all it was. Words tried to ruin me. They became bitter with me and lashed out in spite. They escalated into something hurtful. Words can change your whole outlook on life. That molded me. I fell out of love with words. I became disenchanted with what was once lustful. Words are greedy and secretive. You want honesty? Verbs. In actions we trust. It’s a balancing act between communicating and doing. Do what you say you’re going to do. That’s called integrity. I’ll always love words but we aren’t romantically involved anymore. It’s always been about actions. That’s what I was meant for.
I Chose Life.
My past is haunting. As I lay in bed reading my old tattered journals from adolescents and my teen years I weep for my younger self. But I grow prouder knowing I somehow got past that young lady who was raped and molested and tormented with depression and became a strong woman with an optimistic view. I remember the emotions and worrisome thoughts that kept me awake at night. I recall the sensation of tear stained pillows against my cheeks. I remember that feeling of deep seated loneliness and grief I concealed from everyone. I wore long sleeved shirts through the summer because the razors weren’t the only thing I hid from my family. I had forgotten the sense of longing for eternal peace. I thought my mind, body, and soul wouldn’t survive this reality. My heart felt perpetually broken. Hurt became so much a part of me it was more like a personality trait. My family would talk to me, the doctors would talk to me, the therapist would talk to me but would anybody really listen? The medications either made me angry or left me feeling numb to all emotions including happiness. No happiness is no life worth living. I struggled with major depressive disorder for many years of my life. I wasted too much life thinking of ending it. Writing poems helped me only temporarily but when the hurt was so devastating I had no inspiration and it was no help. I recall never feeling good enough for anyone, feeling ugly, feeling guilty, and being miserable. I would also put on a mask in public and to my family. But in the dark of the night it would find me. There was no fake it to make it with my sorrow. Depression is like drowning in a deep pool. You can see the light, you acknowledge the light, you reach for it never to grasp it. Never to resurface again. You can’t breathe because the saddness is all consuming. There is no relief. I had good times in the midst of grief. I trained myself to use the medication, music, writing, painting and expressing myself any way I could. I got in touch with my humorous side. Slowly I took my life back. Depression is not a curable disease. Mental illness is a lifelong struggle with no miracle cure. It’s terminal. I’m happy to say I found my way. I have been medication free for many years now. I don’t let anything stop me and I do not depend on others to make me happy. I’m a survivor and I fought my battles. It was a choice. I’m not my past, I’m the woman who was created along the way.
The Mad Mind of Coraline 