Thursday, May 3, 2012

Neilson Library Freaks and Geeks.

So I went to my college library in an effort to get some work done. Yeah not so much. At least I'm writing right? I love going back into stacks and sitting among books. It gives me such a sense of power. Weird ehh? The idea that so much knowledge has come from here is pretty heady. Anytime I go back to my undergrad campus, I feel so empowered. It's weird. I know I am surrounded by some of the smartest women in the world. And it's a sort of heavy power trip (and an honor to think I am among them). Like L'Oreal says, "you're worth it". Hee hee. Main differences/similarities in me in 2012 and 1999. 1. about 13 years (hah). 2. Mental illnesses/trauma more acute? More self aware of things, and yet more mentally numb. Living on campus was my mental bubble against the world. Now I just have Lorazapen and Neurotin. 3. I miss my friends. N. would sit with me through my worries, frustrations, tears and the work would get done. Now with the distractions of facebook, my own computer, things have become so much more complicated. Yet the work is simpler in that I have no tests/quizzes. 4. I seriously don't know how I made it through my undergraduate years with out a computer. I had a one line type writer for papers. When I had to use a computer, I would have to lock myself into a lab before the doors locked. 5. Weight, weight, and more weight. 6. Medication has muted my intellectual acuity. Not as crisp. 7. I am way behind in all my work this semester. Like flunking out behind. And yet, I can't think about more than just today. This would have never happened undergrad. Not getting an A meant failure. Black or White. No Gray. For me winning is showing up these days. 8. Still sporting the bun and little to no make-up. Except now I am one of those crazy white girls who wears flip flops and tang tops in March. Blame it on the hot flash, or the weight, or meds. Yeah, that's it. 9. Coca-Cola (20 ounce bottled of course) is still the nectar of the gods. (never was one for coffee). I could get 1 bottle for 75 cents. Now it's like 175 a bottle. WTF? 10. I still physically carry way too much stuff. Like two bags too much. I am either prepared to win a spot on the show Let's make a deal, or preparing to enter a fallout shelter for the next apocalypse. 11. Smithies during finals are women possessed. They will stab you and leave you gutted rather than show compassion if you make noises in library during finals week. Just saying because I know, I will still cut a bitch. I once cussed a girl out 'cause she was chewing her gum like with her mouth open. Really was it my fault that she was half heifer? 12. Neilson main library is filled to capacity. WTF. That's my spot. Just saying. A little angry they got rid of the leather sofa. You could sleep and drool for hours on that. Or for 15 minutes and it would feel like hours. Awesomeness. 13. I used to think that crisis was gonna kill me, I used to believe that I would snap and start hearing voices in my cheerios. I would wait for that moment to come. It never has; nor will I think it will ever. I've learned that it's never that easy. Now I really have learned life will go on; one day at a time. So simple yet so profoundly true. 14. I wish I could go into Wilson kitchen and pilfer snacks and drinks when the library closes. 15. Ramen noodles tasted way better 13 years ago. I have no idea how I could eat a whole pack with less than a cup of water and 1/2 sleeve of ritz. Sodium anyone? 16. A twin bed felt awesome at the end of it all. Crazy is easy; Life is hanging on.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

The Elusive Sticky Bun

I have just come back from Boston where I spent the last four days. I really do love Jet Blue with their XM sateliette radio and movie chanels. However, I will never drive out of Boston again. It was an absolutely horrific experience. My plan landed at 5:30pm and I didn't get in to Amy's house until 10:30pm ( a trip that takes an 1.5 hours at most with rush hour traffic). I was like a lost Hebrew on a journey that should have only taken 11 days but ended up taking forty years. OMG! I knew there was a lot of one way streets but I ended spending over an hour trying to get out of Revere because of this damn sign:

It constantly kept me from going from the direction I came. Thank God I rented a compact car or I would have to raffle off my first born to pay for the gas I used getting in the right direction.

My other excitement was that I got to spend awesome bonding time with my goddaughter Michaela. She's growing up to quite a little lady. I took her to my old stomping grounds (aka Emmanuael College, Downtown Crossing, South Station etc) and showed her all the places her mom and I went to school. There was a bit of construction going on, so we didn't get to see that much. They did appear to have expanded a bit.

I also took her to the Isabella Stewart Gardner museum. This was one of my favorite paintings called EL Jaleo:

The rendering here just doesn't do justice to the colors John Singer Sargent used.

I also offered to get Michaela's ears pierced and initally she was all for it. She was so excited, talking about what type of stud she was going to get. She picked out her birthstone and was ready to go. Michaela made her way to the chair where the women put the dots on her ear and had me inspect to make sure they were even. (I had to pretend I was her mother, which is pretty ironic considering she has blue eyes and blond hair and I have brown hair and brown eyes, but I digress). Then she saw the woman load the the gun with her chosen earrings and she FLIPPED out. She went completely pale and asked if she could back out of it. I had already paid for it, so I was like "Kayla, don't look at her, look at me. " But she would have none of that and she literally jumped out of the chair as the women came toward her with the loaded earing gun.

So rather than have her earings pierced, I got my second my second holes. It stung a little bit, but I've had them done before so I knew what to expect. Kayla couldn't even her watch me get my ear pierced. She literally looked like she was going to faint. For a good 20 minutes afterward she had absolutely no color in her face and kept on saying OMG, OMG. I reassured her and said that she could do it when she was ready, but all she could talk about was her fear of needles.

We also tried to find the elusive sticky bound at this place called Flour, Bakery and Cafe. Unfortunately 2 train rides later we get there only to find out that they have run out before we even got there. WHATTTT? We were so ticked offf and tired that we just ended up heading back home on the commuter rail.

We did manage to ride every line except the blue line in our endeavors. Kayla got a kick out of standing up while the T was in motion.

grandma has died

and I have chose to numb with reality tv and amazon prime. I will probably end up flunking out of graduate school. I have been suspended from work. It's like life just keeps getting better.

Friday, April 13, 2012

writer's block

so bad. so fragmented, so much work to do. Why did I decide to go to grad school? Anxiety. Heart racing. think I will stop now...

Friday, August 26, 2011

Trust Jesus

Okay when I'm really stressed, I sometimes get a hankering for some really good Puerto Rican food, (my version of comfort food). That being said, I know that I need to go to High street in my hometown to get it. So that's what I attempted to do tonight for supper. Unfortunately all the restaurants were closed, but I did get fed. I'll tell you how:

See there's this guy; I don't know his name, but he stands out on High street during different times of the day evangelizing. He is usually always smiling, listening to music on his headphones as he bee bops along. Occasionally he will wave to people. The thing that is cool about him is that he hold this very basic sign. Very simply it says "TRUST JESUS".

As I usually do, I honk my horn to show him my support. But then I got to thinking about why that man was there on that part of High street at that particular time. (He usually stands a little further down). It was then that I realized God was trying to tell me something. When I saw the man, I was caught up trying to figure out how I was going to be able to work a full time job and do my internship at the same time. (I was actually thinking so hard, I almost didn't see him) While I have most of the details figured out on how to make everything work,(I've been working this for a year now) there are still some major things that I just can't square away in my head just yet and I start my internship in less than 3 weeks. And of course, I have begun to worry. But seeing that sign and that man's faith snapped me back into reality.

I've come to the conclusion that I have became a little like Paul when Jesus commanded him to walk on water these last couple of weeks. Peter was doing fine until took his eyes of Jesus, and then he began to sink. For Peter, it was into the physical sea, for me it has become a sea of despair even though I've gotten this far. In my own skin, I still haven't figured out how its all going to work. And for me that has always meant that I have to work harder, control more, and worry more. But you know what; I'm seriously questioning this old fleshly philosophies these days. I'm not sure if its my re-dedication or what, but I think what boils down to is that I really have to trust more. Trust God, Trust Jesus, Trust myself and trust others.

So again I will pick up my cross once again and follow you Lord. Because I believe this is what you have called me to do. I am convinced you have a plan for me, plans to grow me and not to harm me. I know you want to give me the desires of my heart that are in accordance with your will for my life. Thank you for sending that earthly Angel disguised in the form of man to minister to me tonight. Proof positive that everything is used to your glory...

Like Kirk Franklin sings to God in the last lines of the song "Be Still and know I am God", Lord I know as Kirks say... "You got this... You Got this".

Monday, August 22, 2011

Huge Anxiety...

Um.. so I'm supposed to start back to work Wednesday, but I am so not ready yet. I really want to the 5th off, but I'm not sure if that's gonna happen. I will find out tomorrow. Fingers crossed, because there is not enough anti-anxiety medication in the world to keep me from climbing the walls...

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

So I fight

So with out getting into the specifics, I've had a myriad of the health problems these last few weeks and for me it has been brought up a lot of issues from my youth. And while I know no one can make you feel inferior without your own consent (Eleanor Roosevelt), I just have to get this off my chest, because I feel so frustrated.

Right now I have extremely high blood pressure. (like to the point of needing to be hospitalized blood pressure) and severe migraines. But with the current health care system being what it is, I've had several Dr's appt's that have yielded very few results except emptying my wallet. Nothing seems to work and I am feeling very frustrated as well as physically horrible.

So I fight, I fight doctor's who tell me they can't see until the next three weeks. I make call upon call in search of someone who can help. I buy a planner to organize all my appointments and drugs. I try to find the right drug cocktail that will not only alleviate the symptom but also possibly find the cure.

I fight the feelings of inadequacy that this bring up because dr's literally or indirectly say or act in manner that suggests they they don't have time for you, that they are sorry for you, or that they wish you were better.

I fight a health care system that at times does nothing to empower its recepients into actually managing their own care, by treating them as they don't know their own bodies or their own respective needs.

I fight doctors, family, friends, clergy, who literally tell me they are doing me favors, that they don't have to see me, that it's all in my head, that I'm being difficult, that I'm too x or too z, or that I'm just not worth it.

I fight with having awful insurance, wondering if I had state insurance or a better provider if I would have a better level of care or if people would see me differently.

I fight the notion that because of my race ethnicity, genetic predisposition, location in an economic depressed comunity that I am being stereotyped, pigeoned holed, and just generally not heard or treated with the best possible care.

I fight the multiple physical and emotional side effects, the feeling of being my own pharmaceutical company with the hope that tomorrow someone will get it right or at least tomorrow will be a better day.

I fight the work it takes to be sick and want to surrender because if no one else cares, why should I?

I fight the urge to give up, check out, and think its all in my ahead.

I fight by seeing see my nutrionist, my dermatologist, my gyncologist, neurologist, emeregency room doc, my pastor, my GP, my nurse practioner, my opthomologist, my optomotrist, my counselor, my urologist, my psychiatrist, my neurologist and demand answers not scripts or pity.

I search the internet, speak with other people who had these conditions, seek God, Seek Jesus, prayer, cry, vent in an effort to understand myself and ultimately make myself better.

I take advice from doctors who tell me it's xyz, I hear friends who tell me it's from having a lack of faith in God and that this all a test. I get told things like I that I need to pray more, have more trust in God, read my bible, fellowship, and believe God has the answers. I get told to exercise more, eat less, and let go of things mentally. While I believe that is all true, it makes me feel like if I could only believe or trust a little more this problem would be gone. Which does nothing to make me feel empowered or build a sense of security.

I fight friends and family who mean well, who offer cures, who make suggestions, who for the most part listen and don't judge, but don't really get it either because they never really been there or it's just too painful for them to relate.

I fight the urge to take the pity/apologies of friends, family and doctor's and tell them to stick it where the sun don't shine.

Don't get me wrong; I ultimately think this is happening for a reason; I think this will ultimately make a better social worker, but of course I get stuck on the question of why regardless; i.e., why does it have to be this way. Why are all the systems so broken. Why does the health care system refuse to treat the whole person, i.e. mind, body, spirit. Is it just because they don't know how many co-pays they should charge?

There's got to be a better answer. So in mean time, I wait. I pray, and I fight.

And damn it; I'm tired.