Things are a changing... always.
Changes abound within my life...especially what I am willing to admit I want from life. I have discussed this before, the fact that extravagance aside, what I truly want is the simple life. To share my life with a great man. An honest man whom I trust wholly and completely, a man who brings me unending joy, but who constantly challenges me.
I want a meaningful career, and a life outside the home, but more than any other want in life, I want to be a great wife and mother. I want to partner my life with another, and create life... I want to nurture and care for my husband and children.
I went from someone who decided they wanted the single life, to live life alone and according to my own agenda, to someone who longs for a partnered life. A life built with another. This is not so abnormal...it just perplexes me a wee bit. On account of the fact that I ran from it for so long.
Why did I run?
Many reasons. Some of which I am not yet aware of. But the most pertinent reason is fear. Fear of being betrayed...of life being life and being in the place where I depended on the man in my life, and my world crashing in on me. And the fear of wanting something so badly only to be disappointed.
Through the self analyzing this last year or so has brought I have discovered the fallacy of my former fears. The irrationality of living my life according to the what if factor. I had the 'prepare for the worst' part down pat, but I forgot about the 'hope for the best' part of the equation. I have now acquired the hope I once ignored.
How you ask?
My friend and her fiance have been an integral part to re-establishing that hope. I met her in an interesting way...she picked me up for her best friend. That didn't work out, but her and I became stellar friends. Over the course of our friendship I have been by her side through divorce proceedings, and the associated dramas. Through it all she remained hopeful that her "fairytale was out there." She met the most amazing man...in albeit unconventional ways, but he has been there for her through the rain, hail and shit storms her life has brought her through as of late.
Their relationship started out against the odds, but it is flourishing. Lush with the buds and blooms of a lasting love. A love that will remain disgustingly exciting and carry them well on into their golden years. It gives me hope.
A former cynic, now has hope of a disgustingly exciting fairytale of her own. I have seen with my eyes how the shit storms of life can bring forth a flourishing garden of a loving relationship. I guess the shit storms of life are like fertilizer for what you are destined for in the end. While it is hard work for a time...and your back may get sore, and it may smell like the worst shit pile you have ever smelled for a season, eventually something beautiful will grow in the fertile soil left behind by all your troubles and hard work.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Harsh? Blunt?
Harsh: unpleasantly stern.
I can be harsh at times...but life is harsh. I have always stood very soundly in my opposition to sugar-coating. I think that people are too afraid of hurting one another's feelings. So instead of saying or doing what really needs to be done, they save face and leave things unsaid, or undone. Only for a later outcome...usually ending in the situation spiraling completely out of control.
While we are on the subject of control...Stern has another meaning. The rear of a ship, where the rudder is located. A ship cannot go without a rudder, guiding its every move, making sure the vessel in on course. Making at times, harsh but necessary movements to regain the course of the vessel. These movements are a bit unnerving for passengers, and even the crew, but all are better for the decision to right the course.
Bluntness: the quality of being direct and outspoken.
I like to speak what I think. I think these two qualities are interlinked. I think that in order to be blunt, one must at times be harsh, or at least be accused of harshness. In American culture it is--for some reason-- thought of as bad, or poor taste to be harsh or to bluntly tell the facts. But I think that plenty of times people need just that, and it may well be better for them, and all parties involved.
Now I don't run around telling people exactly every single thing that pops into my head. But certain things need to be shared. I always try to be as tactful as possible. Yes people's feelings get hurt, but it is not okay to run around hurting people's feelings for sport.
In these last few weeks I have made some harsh decisions...the hardest was to tell my best friend and roommate to move out. I felt betrayed by her actions in the weeks prior, and I feel that those actions have led to the demise of our friendship. And some may say this is harsh, and it may well be. But I think that the harsher outcome would be to continue in a toxic situation...waiting for God knows what to come about. She now knows exactly how I feel, and the full effect of her actions. Now we can both move on from here and learn from this situation...
I can be harsh at times...but life is harsh. I have always stood very soundly in my opposition to sugar-coating. I think that people are too afraid of hurting one another's feelings. So instead of saying or doing what really needs to be done, they save face and leave things unsaid, or undone. Only for a later outcome...usually ending in the situation spiraling completely out of control.
While we are on the subject of control...Stern has another meaning. The rear of a ship, where the rudder is located. A ship cannot go without a rudder, guiding its every move, making sure the vessel in on course. Making at times, harsh but necessary movements to regain the course of the vessel. These movements are a bit unnerving for passengers, and even the crew, but all are better for the decision to right the course.
Bluntness: the quality of being direct and outspoken.
I like to speak what I think. I think these two qualities are interlinked. I think that in order to be blunt, one must at times be harsh, or at least be accused of harshness. In American culture it is--for some reason-- thought of as bad, or poor taste to be harsh or to bluntly tell the facts. But I think that plenty of times people need just that, and it may well be better for them, and all parties involved.
Now I don't run around telling people exactly every single thing that pops into my head. But certain things need to be shared. I always try to be as tactful as possible. Yes people's feelings get hurt, but it is not okay to run around hurting people's feelings for sport.
In these last few weeks I have made some harsh decisions...the hardest was to tell my best friend and roommate to move out. I felt betrayed by her actions in the weeks prior, and I feel that those actions have led to the demise of our friendship. And some may say this is harsh, and it may well be. But I think that the harsher outcome would be to continue in a toxic situation...waiting for God knows what to come about. She now knows exactly how I feel, and the full effect of her actions. Now we can both move on from here and learn from this situation...
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
loss on top of loss...
Wow...what can I say besides wow.
People surely never cease to amaze me. So my supposed best friend, and roommate has done just that: amaze me...well maybe a more accurate description is: disappoint and appall.
I just don't understand people.
So here I am in the midst of dealing with the loss of my aunt, the one and only aunt I am close to(One of the only 4 people in my dad's family I am close to). And my supposed best friend couldn't care less. I told her of the situation with my aunt the day it happened, when she was put into the ICU and on the ventilator. She had no concern or even interest--or so it seemed. And through the following weekend and into the next week I heard nothing, nor was I checked on by my supposed best friend.
How is it that near strangers are calling me and texting me and emailing me to see how I am and how my aunt is doing? And my best friend can't even find the concern to even ask me how I am or how it is going with my aunt?
So now I am left in the aftermath of the loss of my aunt, left in the middle of the grieving process and my best friend has no idea that she even died, nor--as it seems--does she even care.
For the first time in my life I am left at a loss for words. I have nothing at all to say to her...nothing. I don't even want to look at her, let alone speak to her. I am so upset, disappointed, and hurt by her I have nothing to say.
There will be words said, but not now. Not while I am dealing with more important things... I just don't see the worth in speaking to her right now.... A good friend suggested that maybe she is going through some hard times as well and she just hasn't told me about them...but if that is the case, she should speak up. And even still she should be able to care a little about my losing someone close to me. I would think that were just basic human compassion...but apparently she is devoid of this...it is just too hard to think outside her own juvenile world, and think about someone else for one second.
This whole situation is ridiculous. At this point I feel our friendship is over. Why should I invest so much time and energy and caring in someone who can't even show the slightest bit of concern for my life? So how should I even want to fix things between us? I see no worth in fixing our friendship at this point... I just want to tell her exactly how she has hurt me, and explain to her that from here on out we are simply roommates. Just people that live together. That is it. No concern for the other's well being, nothing. Just roommates, no longer friends.
I feel that is what this comes down to...she has shown her true colors. And they are colors I don't like... she has shown me who she really is. And I suppose who she really is is not someone I want in my life. So unfortunately not only in the last week have I lost my aunt, but now I have lost my best friend as well.
People surely never cease to amaze me. So my supposed best friend, and roommate has done just that: amaze me...well maybe a more accurate description is: disappoint and appall.
I just don't understand people.
So here I am in the midst of dealing with the loss of my aunt, the one and only aunt I am close to(One of the only 4 people in my dad's family I am close to). And my supposed best friend couldn't care less. I told her of the situation with my aunt the day it happened, when she was put into the ICU and on the ventilator. She had no concern or even interest--or so it seemed. And through the following weekend and into the next week I heard nothing, nor was I checked on by my supposed best friend.
How is it that near strangers are calling me and texting me and emailing me to see how I am and how my aunt is doing? And my best friend can't even find the concern to even ask me how I am or how it is going with my aunt?
So now I am left in the aftermath of the loss of my aunt, left in the middle of the grieving process and my best friend has no idea that she even died, nor--as it seems--does she even care.
For the first time in my life I am left at a loss for words. I have nothing at all to say to her...nothing. I don't even want to look at her, let alone speak to her. I am so upset, disappointed, and hurt by her I have nothing to say.
There will be words said, but not now. Not while I am dealing with more important things... I just don't see the worth in speaking to her right now.... A good friend suggested that maybe she is going through some hard times as well and she just hasn't told me about them...but if that is the case, she should speak up. And even still she should be able to care a little about my losing someone close to me. I would think that were just basic human compassion...but apparently she is devoid of this...it is just too hard to think outside her own juvenile world, and think about someone else for one second.
This whole situation is ridiculous. At this point I feel our friendship is over. Why should I invest so much time and energy and caring in someone who can't even show the slightest bit of concern for my life? So how should I even want to fix things between us? I see no worth in fixing our friendship at this point... I just want to tell her exactly how she has hurt me, and explain to her that from here on out we are simply roommates. Just people that live together. That is it. No concern for the other's well being, nothing. Just roommates, no longer friends.
I feel that is what this comes down to...she has shown her true colors. And they are colors I don't like... she has shown me who she really is. And I suppose who she really is is not someone I want in my life. So unfortunately not only in the last week have I lost my aunt, but now I have lost my best friend as well.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Death...and taxes?
Death.
It is part of life. That is a given, and while we are in a way prepared for it our entire lives, it always catches us off guard. My aunt has been ill for 13 years. For exactly half of my life I have known that she would die an untimely death. That the illness she had would one day kill her. I am trained in medicine and understand the logic and all the reasons as to why it is she is dying. It makes complete and perfect sense. But the fact remains that death is hard. Losing someone you care about is hard. Regardless of how logical it is, or how long you have to prepare yourself to say goodbye, you are never ready.
This has been a trying time, both emotionally and mentally. I am the only one that can effectively explain the events, the why and the how of her dying, to my family. It is hard being the one that knows full well the gravity of her disease process. Because I have to answer their questions honestly, and at times that means taking their hope away. I feel like they think I am a cold hearted bitch.
Truth is: I do feel. I feel the hurt. I feel the loss and the sadness, but I look past that to the reality of the situation. Beyond what I would like to happen, to what is happening. I know what can and cannot happen in regard to her illness, and recovery, or lack thereof.
I have always been able to turn my emotions off and make a logical conclusion. In any situation. I just turn off the feelings, and think. I like to remove myself from a situation and try my best to look at it objectively. And while this is good for understanding, it may be bad as well. I have become so accustomed to turning my feelings off and removing myself from the situation, that I have a hard time allowing people to see my emotions, or even letting them flow. Especially emotions of hurt or sadness.
It is interesting how some people just wear their hearts on their sleeve, showing any and every emotion to all who pass by. And others who have their hearts buried deep within themselves only exposing it to those who can truly be trusted. Both of these are good. It is good for people to be able to see that you are human and you have emotions. But your heart is very delicate and needs to be protected. I think middle ground is called for. Maybe wearing your heart on your sleeve all the time isn't the best idea, but how about displaying it on your sleeve here and there?
I think that is something I need to do. I have been working hard at becoming the woman I desire to be. And that woman is not a cold hearted bitch who allows no one to see her. Her emotions, thoughts, hopes, dreams, and vulnerabilities. That is not someone I want to be anymore. I have accepted who I truly am, and I am letting the world see her. The real Val.
And right now she is hurting. I am hurting. I am sad, and heartbroken over the loss of someone I love. I want the people in my life to realize that I am not the stoic person I have always appeared to be. But I don't know how to do that. I don't quite know how to take this mask off, and be sad in front of my family and friends.
It seems that maybe I have been too stoic for too long. When I try to pour out my heart to my friends they pass it off. Just once I would like someone I care about to hold me as I cry. I want to be in the arms of someone I trust and care about, who cares about me enough to let me fall apart. I want to be weak and vulnerable for once. And be taken care of. Just once I would like to be the one being consoled, instead of the one consoling and taking care of everyone else.
How do I do this? I don't know. I suppose just continue on being real. Forcing myself to be seen. No matter what I look like under the mask...
It is part of life. That is a given, and while we are in a way prepared for it our entire lives, it always catches us off guard. My aunt has been ill for 13 years. For exactly half of my life I have known that she would die an untimely death. That the illness she had would one day kill her. I am trained in medicine and understand the logic and all the reasons as to why it is she is dying. It makes complete and perfect sense. But the fact remains that death is hard. Losing someone you care about is hard. Regardless of how logical it is, or how long you have to prepare yourself to say goodbye, you are never ready.
This has been a trying time, both emotionally and mentally. I am the only one that can effectively explain the events, the why and the how of her dying, to my family. It is hard being the one that knows full well the gravity of her disease process. Because I have to answer their questions honestly, and at times that means taking their hope away. I feel like they think I am a cold hearted bitch.
Truth is: I do feel. I feel the hurt. I feel the loss and the sadness, but I look past that to the reality of the situation. Beyond what I would like to happen, to what is happening. I know what can and cannot happen in regard to her illness, and recovery, or lack thereof.
I have always been able to turn my emotions off and make a logical conclusion. In any situation. I just turn off the feelings, and think. I like to remove myself from a situation and try my best to look at it objectively. And while this is good for understanding, it may be bad as well. I have become so accustomed to turning my feelings off and removing myself from the situation, that I have a hard time allowing people to see my emotions, or even letting them flow. Especially emotions of hurt or sadness.
It is interesting how some people just wear their hearts on their sleeve, showing any and every emotion to all who pass by. And others who have their hearts buried deep within themselves only exposing it to those who can truly be trusted. Both of these are good. It is good for people to be able to see that you are human and you have emotions. But your heart is very delicate and needs to be protected. I think middle ground is called for. Maybe wearing your heart on your sleeve all the time isn't the best idea, but how about displaying it on your sleeve here and there?
I think that is something I need to do. I have been working hard at becoming the woman I desire to be. And that woman is not a cold hearted bitch who allows no one to see her. Her emotions, thoughts, hopes, dreams, and vulnerabilities. That is not someone I want to be anymore. I have accepted who I truly am, and I am letting the world see her. The real Val.
And right now she is hurting. I am hurting. I am sad, and heartbroken over the loss of someone I love. I want the people in my life to realize that I am not the stoic person I have always appeared to be. But I don't know how to do that. I don't quite know how to take this mask off, and be sad in front of my family and friends.
It seems that maybe I have been too stoic for too long. When I try to pour out my heart to my friends they pass it off. Just once I would like someone I care about to hold me as I cry. I want to be in the arms of someone I trust and care about, who cares about me enough to let me fall apart. I want to be weak and vulnerable for once. And be taken care of. Just once I would like to be the one being consoled, instead of the one consoling and taking care of everyone else.
How do I do this? I don't know. I suppose just continue on being real. Forcing myself to be seen. No matter what I look like under the mask...
Monday, February 2, 2009
Thoughts...as always
Ok so I am one of those people that cannot turn their brain off... I am ALWAYS thinking. Thinking about things that matter...things that don't. Mid conversation I will have some random thought about the keys to the universe or something random like "oh man! I REALLY want to visit Paris in the fall!" Randomness.
Is that so weird? I don't think so. I think my mind just works on several different levels at once. Multi-tasking I suppose. I am that way with everything. Doing 17 things at once. Many Irons in the fire...always burning the candle at both ends, and sometimes in the middle too. But eventually it catches up to me....
That is what happened this weekend. My body says "eff you! I need a break!" So I end up feeling like shizz, but do I listen, and take the break my body is telling me I need? of course not. So I suffer through 12 hour nights of work. Nights that were busy. I like how when I am rockin' it is slow as hell, but the second I don't feel good we get our asses handed to us. Sick patients, and lots of them... WTF?! So after my second night of suffering and feeling like ass, I forced myself to take a break. I feel guilty though. Even though everyone was calling me to make sure I was ok, because they could tell something was wrong.
That is something that perplexes me. How is it that some people will call off of work for no reason at all, and never even feel the slightest twinge of guilt. And others have to have an all out war with themselves to call off. Even when they are incapacitated, and have all good reason to call off. And they STILL feel guilty?
I am sitting here...after sleeping all day, and most of the night...still feeling kind of shitty. And I feel guilty for not being at work right now. But yet my co-workers will use any excuse to call off. Hmm just another mystery of human nature I suppose.
Just like how some people are always thinking of others and how their actions will affect others, and some people would never give it a second thought.
People are odd creatures...perplexing, frustrating, intriguing, infuriating, and endearing.
Is that so weird? I don't think so. I think my mind just works on several different levels at once. Multi-tasking I suppose. I am that way with everything. Doing 17 things at once. Many Irons in the fire...always burning the candle at both ends, and sometimes in the middle too. But eventually it catches up to me....
That is what happened this weekend. My body says "eff you! I need a break!" So I end up feeling like shizz, but do I listen, and take the break my body is telling me I need? of course not. So I suffer through 12 hour nights of work. Nights that were busy. I like how when I am rockin' it is slow as hell, but the second I don't feel good we get our asses handed to us. Sick patients, and lots of them... WTF?! So after my second night of suffering and feeling like ass, I forced myself to take a break. I feel guilty though. Even though everyone was calling me to make sure I was ok, because they could tell something was wrong.
That is something that perplexes me. How is it that some people will call off of work for no reason at all, and never even feel the slightest twinge of guilt. And others have to have an all out war with themselves to call off. Even when they are incapacitated, and have all good reason to call off. And they STILL feel guilty?
I am sitting here...after sleeping all day, and most of the night...still feeling kind of shitty. And I feel guilty for not being at work right now. But yet my co-workers will use any excuse to call off. Hmm just another mystery of human nature I suppose.
Just like how some people are always thinking of others and how their actions will affect others, and some people would never give it a second thought.
People are odd creatures...perplexing, frustrating, intriguing, infuriating, and endearing.
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