It feels fabulous to be sitting at home on a nice comfy couch. That is one thing I miss at school, comfy couches. I also miss good soft carpet. Just a few things I took for granted at home. Tonight I feel weird. I was so excited to be home. I went to Leslie's tonight and Kristin was there. I hadn't seen Kristin since August, and her brother even came over. He is home from New York. It was so great to be with them laughing again, but I felt like I needed to come home and see Adam and Ashlee (I knew my parent would be in bed). I came home early and Ashlee was sleeping and Adam was watching a movie, so I didn't want to interupt. The thing is, that now I am sitting here alone, and I feel bad that I left Leslie's so early. I just can't make enough time for everyone, not to mention I felt overwhelmed and needed some time to myself. I miss my friends a lot, though. It always makes me realize how much I miss them when I see them. I am finally establishing some more meaningful relatioinships ar Central though, and I am thankful for that.
I feel like the guy in "Garden State," as cliche as that may sound. He talks about how once you move out you miss home so much, but when you go home, it doesn't feel like home. I find that to be so true, and same thing with my relationships with people. I miss them so much and then you see them again and it isn't the same. It's like I am missing something that doesn't exist. It feels pretty empty where I am at right now, and maybe even a little numb.
My therapist left her job to practice wholistic medicine. I have not had a therapy session for two weeks. It is weird, because I am going to have to start all over and I don't know that I had made any progress yet from the first one. I am not very good at the whole therapy thing. I have this problem where I want everyone to like me, and I have to struggle with that with my therapist too. It's like I am supposed to tell him (my new therapist is a guy) all of the ugly evil stuff about myself that I don't tell people, but I want him to like me and not think I am crazy, so I sugar-coat everything...just like I do with everyone else in my life. Maybe getting a new therapist will help me start all over and I can just let him know that I am crazy right off the back, then I won't have to worry whether or not he thinks I am crazy haha...always an option, I guess.
I have been really intrigued by Bio humor lately. Yesterday, my friend called me a "wannabe Bio dork." I am not a real Bio dork, because I suck at Biology, but I find Biology people so interesting. They are so weird and unlike any other type of nerds. I love it. They amuse me so much. I sometimes wish I could just observe their everyday conversations (not their Bio ones, those bore the crap at out of me). For instance, today in lecture we watched a news clip from the seventies where they used dynamite to blow up a dead whale. I don't know why I found it so funny, but I was cracking up even though it was 9am and I didn't have any caffeine. It could have been the crazy people on camera's reaction or it could have been my Bio professor's excitement. He gets so excited about mollusks that it amazes me. I think one of the reason I love Bio nerds is because I love passionate people, and Bio people are so passionate. I guess you have to be passionate to get through a million classes as challenging as Bio. I know a lot of other passionate people, but I think it is interesting to me, because I do not like Bio at all, and I can't imagine being passionate about it, so to see all of these excited Bio dorks cracks me up. When I say "Bio dorks," I only mean it in the most flattering way of course.
I am excited for Thanksgiving tomorrow, but things are weird right now. I don't know what I want anymore, but I at least know I want turkey. I guess that's a start. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Be thankful for friends, food, and family! I know I sure am!
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Monday, November 06, 2006
Election Day
Tomorrow is the big Election Day. I am feeling like a hypocrite, because I cannot vote. Ever since I entered high school I have been encouraging my friends who were old enough to vote. I would, and still do, get so frustrated with people who do not care about voting at all. Especially the ones who say they do not care. I think it is the one thing that all people should agree on. We can’t agree on individual issues, and sure sometimes I wish less people against me would vote, but I only wish that unrealistically. I am fully aware the more people vote the more efficiently our country will be run. My age group has so much potential to make a difference, but so many do not care. I do not think it is just my generation, I think that is common among all younger generations, because they are too self absorbed and still struggling to figure our where they stand on issues. I had every intention of voting. I registered and got acquainted with the issues and the main candidates (I still do not know all of them). I recently was told that because I registered by mail, and it is my first time voting, that I needed to pick up the absentee ballot in person. The problem is I live 2.5 hours away and although I was home last weekend, the place is not open on weekends. It looks like I will have to be another “careless” youth who doesn’t take advantage of my right to vote. At least I appreciate that I have the right to vote and know a little bit about the issues. I will definitely be involved in the next elections. It just embarrasses me when people ask me if I voted or not. I really just want to lie, because I know how important it is to vote, and I feel like people who do not vote do not, but I do not lie. I just look down quickly and mumble a “no.”
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Everything I Have
Today I felt I could see into my thoughts so clearly. I think it is a result of finally getting enough sleep, which will not be the case tomorrow, and the fact that I had time to read a little of my latest book that April suggested, and my roommate just happened to have, "Blue Like Jazz." I felt moved by his analogy of penguins life-style and sexual instinct to represent his faith. He is really an interesting writer. It inspired me to capture all of the random thoughts that have been running through my head. Sometimes I honestly feel like I have no control over my mind. It can take me to very dark places, but sometimes I get these amazing and insightful thoughts, and I just think "I did not think of that." I am copying my random paragraphs that were written throughout the day, because they are honestly everything I had in me today. It's not necessarily great quality writing, but I think it shows good thought. Well, compared to where I have been at because of all of the stress from classes. I finally bought the song "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol. That music video was on at 3am after I had my mild panic attack a couple weekends ago and it really made me feel better. I listened to it on repeat the whole time I was writing, which was a lot. I am listening to it as I write. It will probably annoy the hell out of me tomorrow, but at this point in time it inspires me. Well, now I am really pasting the randomness.
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I had this strong urge to write all day, but I have to go to dinner and I am not sure I will remember everything I want. I seriously felt like I could write a book today, because so many great ideas were running around in my head. I thought about how people who volunteer aren’t better people, or more generous, but just wiser. I say this, because all of the volunteer experiences in my life account for many of life changing thought processes and how I never regret volunteering. It is really the only activity where everyone wins. I grew angry as I thought about Velma’s funeral. It was probably cheap and I wonder how many people were there. It was probably the smallest funeral. It made me mad thinking about it randomly in HPS how I was not informed of it.
I thought about my sentimental, life changing conversations. I can’t write about big things, because I get overwhelmed and too excited, but really it is the little moments that I remember so vividly that are worth writing about, the big stuff is a lot of times just background character info. I also thought about how nothing looks right when I first rearrange it, like my cross of pictures...how furious I was about moving it. I was sure it looked terrible and nothing like a cross, but now it makes me smile when I look at it.
Well, here it is hours after I wrote that last paragraph, and sure enough the rush to write is off. I still want to, but the extreme burst of positive energy is gone. I am watching the sixth sense and eating candy in celebration of Halloween. I was convinced earlier to put on Crystal’s coconut bra and grass skirt for fun times sake. Mimi randomly popped into my mind several times today, like a lightbulb that is broken, but randomly pops on providing light and bittersweet feelings, because it only reminds me of what I am missing and disappears quickly. I had a weird feeling in my stomach when in the sixth sense Bruce Willis could talk to his wife and she could respond while she was sleeping. It reminded me of my weird, but most likely imagined experience I had during my migraine/nap after Mimi's funeral, and “feeling Mimi’s presence.” My reaction was very similar to that of Bruce Willis’ wife. I was skeptical, but nonetheless I whispered, “Mimi, don’t leave,” I don’t know if it was sleeping or awake and just wishful thinking. It made me feel ten times better, but it was a sort of spiritual experience, that could probably be written off as random firing of neurons. Even if it was not actually Mimi’s presence, it was a comforting memory or reversal of roles. She “placed her hands on mine,” or so it felt, in the same way that I placed my hands over top of her embalmed hands with my right hand, and clasped the rosary she was holding with my left. I obviously could not hold her hand, because she could not mover her hand, so I just placed my hand over top of hers like covering them with a blanket. When I felt her presence it was the same thing. My hands were resting on top of me, but I felt warmness on top of my right hand.
I just had some great discussion with Dan, the RA from across the hall about spirituality. I brought up the positive memories and spiritual experiences from my childhood that I dream about. It made me think of Viera. I remember before she had dementia, she wheeled into the room explaining she had just come from church. She talked about how she loved the music and it took her back to when she was a little girl, her father would lift her up on his shoulders during church. The 80 year-old woman was crying as she told me this, it made me realize there are some things in life that you can’t get over. She developed dementia and forgot all of these meaningful memories, I am most afraid of that, but it made me realize that it seems like life gets tougher and tougher. Velma was 96 and she was so ready for death. Everyone she had ever loved died; she was alone. That scares me too. All of these people in my life that I feel I can’t live without will die, or I will die. It is like a constant attempt throughout life, to heal our brokenness through faith, spirituality, or love, but it seems we just grow more broken with each day. That is why I don’t understand why as people we spend so much time focusing on our differences instead of just loving each other and accepting each other for where we are at in our lives.
********************************************************************************************************************
I had this strong urge to write all day, but I have to go to dinner and I am not sure I will remember everything I want. I seriously felt like I could write a book today, because so many great ideas were running around in my head. I thought about how people who volunteer aren’t better people, or more generous, but just wiser. I say this, because all of the volunteer experiences in my life account for many of life changing thought processes and how I never regret volunteering. It is really the only activity where everyone wins. I grew angry as I thought about Velma’s funeral. It was probably cheap and I wonder how many people were there. It was probably the smallest funeral. It made me mad thinking about it randomly in HPS how I was not informed of it.
I thought about my sentimental, life changing conversations. I can’t write about big things, because I get overwhelmed and too excited, but really it is the little moments that I remember so vividly that are worth writing about, the big stuff is a lot of times just background character info. I also thought about how nothing looks right when I first rearrange it, like my cross of pictures...how furious I was about moving it. I was sure it looked terrible and nothing like a cross, but now it makes me smile when I look at it.
Well, here it is hours after I wrote that last paragraph, and sure enough the rush to write is off. I still want to, but the extreme burst of positive energy is gone. I am watching the sixth sense and eating candy in celebration of Halloween. I was convinced earlier to put on Crystal’s coconut bra and grass skirt for fun times sake. Mimi randomly popped into my mind several times today, like a lightbulb that is broken, but randomly pops on providing light and bittersweet feelings, because it only reminds me of what I am missing and disappears quickly. I had a weird feeling in my stomach when in the sixth sense Bruce Willis could talk to his wife and she could respond while she was sleeping. It reminded me of my weird, but most likely imagined experience I had during my migraine/nap after Mimi's funeral, and “feeling Mimi’s presence.” My reaction was very similar to that of Bruce Willis’ wife. I was skeptical, but nonetheless I whispered, “Mimi, don’t leave,” I don’t know if it was sleeping or awake and just wishful thinking. It made me feel ten times better, but it was a sort of spiritual experience, that could probably be written off as random firing of neurons. Even if it was not actually Mimi’s presence, it was a comforting memory or reversal of roles. She “placed her hands on mine,” or so it felt, in the same way that I placed my hands over top of her embalmed hands with my right hand, and clasped the rosary she was holding with my left. I obviously could not hold her hand, because she could not mover her hand, so I just placed my hand over top of hers like covering them with a blanket. When I felt her presence it was the same thing. My hands were resting on top of me, but I felt warmness on top of my right hand.
I just had some great discussion with Dan, the RA from across the hall about spirituality. I brought up the positive memories and spiritual experiences from my childhood that I dream about. It made me think of Viera. I remember before she had dementia, she wheeled into the room explaining she had just come from church. She talked about how she loved the music and it took her back to when she was a little girl, her father would lift her up on his shoulders during church. The 80 year-old woman was crying as she told me this, it made me realize there are some things in life that you can’t get over. She developed dementia and forgot all of these meaningful memories, I am most afraid of that, but it made me realize that it seems like life gets tougher and tougher. Velma was 96 and she was so ready for death. Everyone she had ever loved died; she was alone. That scares me too. All of these people in my life that I feel I can’t live without will die, or I will die. It is like a constant attempt throughout life, to heal our brokenness through faith, spirituality, or love, but it seems we just grow more broken with each day. That is why I don’t understand why as people we spend so much time focusing on our differences instead of just loving each other and accepting each other for where we are at in our lives.
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