Wednesday, March 14, 2012

from the back of my head

Since I have neither the energy or the cognitive ability to write a real post, here are just some tidbits from my thought process from the last few weeks. I've been so busy that my greatest joy is just having five minutes to sit down and shut my brain off... I now understand how my cell phone must feel some days.

1. Educationally, I still have quite a path to follow. I'm going to be finished my PCA program in exactly 48 possibly delightful, probably exhausting hours from now. From there, it goes: PCA < LPN < BN... MD? We shall see where life leads me. Goddamn, would I ever love to be a doctor. I admire the level of knowledge doctors have, as well as the responsibility that goes with the role. And yes, I understand that it requires about a thousand years of school, a lot of sacrifice, money and stress. Especially the stress. After the last two months, I feel as though theres nothing I can't do. I'M INVINCIBLE.

But really, my work term has taught me a lot of really valuable things. I am going to be a great PCA, but I yearn for something a little more. I intend to climb to the top of the health care ladder, wherever that ladder may end for me.

2. Sometimes, I feel like my boyfriend can read my mind. More than you'd think. It scares me sometimes.

3. I miss reading. And writing.

4. I long for the time to actually work on real artistic projects (as moaned about in my previous entry.)

5. People make me want to burrow into the ground.

6. Bread is amazing and I want to bake some homemade bread again real soon. Sarah, care to cross a goal off your birthday list from last year? I know your new list has begun, but its never too late.

7. Its strange to me that the most important words in my life used to be big, beautiful words like "empyrean", "verisimilitude", "azure", "voluptuous", "velvet"... lush, artistic words that softly massaged the senses and hinted at some big, dreamlike thing.

Now the most important words in my life are shortened little stencil like things... V/S, qid, DNR, bip, MRSA, adb... medical abbreviations, mostly. Though I have found a lot of beauty in medical terms as well. I like big long latin names,  particularly the ones for pathogens and diseases. Words like aphasia, dyspnea, cognition, etc... these all appeal to my word-loving nature.

8. Things that most people find moving or tragic have no affect on me. I find sometimes when people tell me sad stories, I have to fake my reaction. And I don't mean things like "I got a 50% on my last exam", I mean things like "I saw this story on the news about an entire family getting killed in a plane crash". I've never understood why. Maybe its because very little surprises me anymore.

9. I'm worried that in 10 years from now, I will be an orphan. Maybe less.

10. Sometimes, I try to summon up a postcard-perfect glimpse of my life in five years from now, and I just can't do it. When people talk about the future I sort of shut down because I can't get that far ahead. I can't dream because I'm scared of the disappointment involved with dreaming. Also, I feel like my life is on such an unpredictable course right now that theres no telling where I'll end up. I don't even know what, ideally, I'd want my life to be like in 10 years. I really don't.

And that is all for tonight folks. Where is everybody's head at these days? Is it in the fog, in the clouds? Is it hiding behind the sun? Is it asleep or loud or troubled or moonlit?



XO

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

stuck in the middle



The other day I was cleaning my perpetually messy bedroom, when I found my tiny tower of history stacked lonely in a dark corner, collecting dust. My precious notebooks. They date back to 2003, and I have dozens in different shapes, sizes, colors, materials. Each is filled with messy, tangled masses of beautiful words, thoughts, images. They exude a certain confidence that I didn't know at the time that I possessed. Reading them again I was shocked,  moved and naturally a little embarrassed (revisiting your mind at 15 is always a painful experience). I could write. I was confident that I could write. I knew my thoughts, they had patterns.  I seemed to know these patterns like maps. I was constantly inspired & moved by things, even the darkest aspects of life.

At the top of this pile, there are five notebooks. Each one is blank. Underneath this quintet of empty vessels, there is a diary that I began in 2010 and ended around this time last year. And it might as well have been written last week. My thoughts are the same - indecisive, apathetic, angry. I haven't changed a bit. My train of thought is identical. I was talking about doing things that I still haven't done yet. And still talk about doing. I don't mean big dreams like visiting Hawaii in the summertime. I mean simple achievable things like "I want to reorganize my closet and find a better job and take up cooking".

My whole life, I've been giving up on things. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've given up on everything I've ever tried. Either that, or just talktalktalked about doing something and never tried it at all. Exhibit A - notice the infrequency of my blogging, compared to the fair level of consistency it once had. I don't know why I do it, really. I adopt things for a few weeks, sometimes months, and then just slump back into being a ghost. This applies to both activities and hobbies. I bought running shoes swearing to myself that I would start jogging. I said I was going to learn Swedish. I've finished one painting in the last two years. I never study. I never write, the exception being the only two thoughts I've had for the last three years apparently: "I WANT TO BE A NURSE AND MY BRAIN IS EMPTY". The fact that I still have a job & have great marks in school absolutely astounds me. I get tired of listening to myself saying things like "I had this great idea!" or "I want to..." because I know its bullshit.

For years I've been trying to figure out what my problem is. Its been suggested that I just don't care. In remembering that in my youth I used to care about things far too much, this almost makes sense in a way - a sort of defense mechanism against disappointment, perhaps? I feel like I care a great deal about a lot of things, but maybe I'm just lying to myself. At the same time though, is it really possible to care about nothing? Or have I just changed into someone I don't want to be and I can't accept that?

I long for confidence. I long for the drive to do things, to feel satisfied about doing them. I long to stick to things when I make up my mind to do them. I long for the ability to make decisions, to argue, to know that I'm making the right decision. I long to be present, to be somebody, to be remembered. I honestly feel like a ghost and I can't live with it. But how do I fulfill these longings?

Is this just part of growing up, or is something wrong with me?


XO