slow to learn

It's been a while since I blogged here. But I just had to jot it down, so it doesn't escape my memory.

The first time I told a friend I liked him, his immediate response was, "So, do you think your friend would ever date me?"

The second time I admitted my feelings to another friend, he told me he still thought I was a wonderful friend. A week later, he was seriously considering moving away. Because of me.

I'm NOT going to fuck up a third time.

and Lee Pace can now join the lineup

There's something that I've been wanting to blog about all day, and I knew it could only be posted here. But now, I realize, I've spent WAAY too much time thinking about this blog. Wondering, wishing, waiting, for four months. Mulling, reviewing, analyzing every action, every word, even things not actually done. And what have I to show for it? Mixed emotions, a thousand thoughts, and not one real piece of evidence that anything actually existed outside my own head. And I realize, I've fallen into the same cycle yet again. But this time, I know how it ends. I know what comes next, it will be no different than before. So now I say, enough is enough. I'M DONE. Not one more moment to be wasted, not when there's so much more out there to occupy my time. I'm done waiting, wondering, dreaming. I'm ready to LIVE.

why i feel like i've gotten into the wrong profession

I had a whole eloquent and witty blog in mind for weeks now. Well, this is what you get instead.

I hate work. Not because of the job itself, but because of my apparent inability to perform my job well. I know I’m not the best nurse, but I always thought my strength was in being able to empathize with my patients and their families. I try to put myself in their shoes, see things from their point of view, and treat them the way I would want to be treated if it were myself or my loved one in the hospital. Even the most difficult families seemed to like me, because I acknowledged their frustrations as real and valid.

My primary’s parents asked that I no longer be assigned to their baby. I did my job, cared for their baby the best I knew how, charted responsibly, listened to the family’s frustrations, and resisted the temptation to turn them against the doctors when I didn’t agree with their plan of care. I did my best to be a peacemaker, to bridge the communication gap between the family and the doctors, to simultaneously protect the credibilty of the medical staff while acknowledging the family’s concerns and finding ways to alleviate their worries. And when other staff complained and called them difficult, I defended them. I fell in love with this baby, and I really enjoyed talking to the parents. So of course it was like a slap in the face to learn that my brand of care was not appreciated nor wanted.

I dread going in to work tomorrow. I don’t want to primary anymore, I don’t feel like I’m good enough. I wanted to try to pick up more difficult assignments after my primary went home. Now I feel thrown back to those first days when my job was frightening, intimidating, too big for me.

I’ve been questioning my reason for being called to come out here lately, but it’s been a very long while since I’ve questioned my professional calling. Did I make a mistake in thinking God has called me to be a nurse, even if only for the time being? I just don’t know anymore.

heavy thinking

I was asked the following two questions this week:

1. What does "living life to the fullest" mean to you?

2. What's on your Checklist of things to do before you die?

The first question caught me totally off guard. I used to be able to readily answer, "Living life to the fullest for me means living wholeheartedly for a Godly purpose." But thinking on that now, it sounds rather vague and elusive. I still want to live wholeheartedly for a purpose that I'm passionate about, but I'm not yet sure what that is. I desperately want to live the life God has called me to live, but I don't know what exactly that entails. In the book I'm rereading, Captivating, it says that our calling is something that we are drawn too, something we are passionate about. Again, still figuring out exactly what that is. The follow-up of course to Question 1 is, "Are you living your life to the fullest?" Unsure as I am as to the first answer, I know beyond a doubt my answer to the follow-up. And it left me feeling quite unsettled.

As for the second question, I was also caught off guard, but in a different way. I really haven't thought about the experiences that I want to seek out. Sure, travel is up there, but it's on everyone's list. So again, I find myself thinking, "What is it exactly that I want out of this life?" Through prayer and much thought, I think I'm slowly finding the answer.

1. After God, I am most passionate about family. Children, married couples, I care most about preserving these bonds that God has created, and that Satan tries so hard to destroy. I want every child to feel loved. I want every married couple to be happy. I want to do whatever it takes to defend these relationships. Still unsure of the specifics, but I have a feeling this passion and draw to family is deeply integral to my calling.

2. I'm realizing more and more that I could care less if I ever go skydiving, visit Europe, write a book, write a song, or go white water rafting. Yes those things are nice, but I think the experiences I long for most are very close to what I'm most passionate about: I want to have a family. I want to know what it is to be a wife, to be a mother, to have my own circle to protect and defend. This is all that really matters to me.

Oh yeah, I forgot!

I was starting to get a little down, lately. No specific reason, other than things being a little weird between some people. But then I remembered, I don't care what people think anymore! I'm just living my life, and I don't have to answer to anyone but my God. What a refreshing feeling!

...

For once, I'm left utterly speechless.

I have no words.

commitment-phobe, me?

I've never thought of myself as being afraid of commitment. I've always secretly dreamed of getting married to my very own Prince Charming and living happily ever after being with the same guy. But today I found myself in a discussion with a friend about my guitar.

Friend:So you bought a guitar?

Me:Birthday gift from parents. I asked for it.

F:So do you play it?

M:No.

And later...

M:Yep, took piano lessons for 12 years. And I still play like I've been taking lessons for 3.

F:Why do you say that?

M:I dunno, I lost interest, I guess. But now I really miss having a piano. I think I'll try to save up for a nice keyboard.

F:Yeah, but will you play it?

Which also led me to think about my art, my writing. I always get all excited about a project in the begining, but once I start losing my steam, I inevitably abandon it all together. I've had several ideas for novels and movie scripts, but I've never even attempted to pen them down because the idea of being tied down to something for so long frightens me. My longest story to date is all of three pages, and even that was difficult. I've started so many paintings/drawings/songs/poems that never reached completion because I just couldn't commit.

Which led me to think about bigger things: I originally planned to go to medical school, but I changed my mind. Why? The thought of being in school for so long scared me. Another interesting thing: looking back on my (nonexistent) love life, how many times have I been turned off or numb to a perfectly wonderful guy until I find some fatal flaw which makes me then fall head over heels? I've been sabotaging myself, running away from what could be a very good thing and instead wasting energy on things that will get me nowhere in life. How utterly depressing.

Oh well, Happy Valentine's Day.

F:

cynical, or, up goes the wall

I've had a hard time sticking to my resolution of not being cynical. Correction, acting cynical. I really don't think the world is that depressing, I actually have a lot of hope for the world, and for the future. I do have faith in God and His plans and that He won't doom me to a lonely life if that's not what will make me happy. I want to believe that everyone has a purpose, and that everyone has a special someone out there, just for them. Oh, crap, I need to just come out and say it: I have high hopes of falling in love someday. Or at least, I want to have hope.

So why can't I admit it? I even had to stop myself from erasing what I just typed or slapping on a sarcastic "NOT!" at the end. I settled for moving this to my private blog. I can't seem to embrace or even admit to my romantic nature. I'm so terrified of even appearing the slightest bit vulnerable, of allowing anyone the opportunity to hurt me even a little. I've been careless with my heart before, and it was with a good friend, and it hurt like hell.

So now, with conflicting voices of "It's ok to let your guard down, just a little," and "NO!! Protect yourself at any and all cost!" bouncing around in my head, it's just a little bit crazy.

Thank goodness for good friends who have my back and warn me that my shell is cracking. Slap some cement, let it settle, and I'm impenetrable again. It's the only way for me to be free.

Life is funny...

Just when you think you've got everything figured out, life turns your world upside down like a dollar-store snowglobe and everything is chaos and you count down the seconds till everything settles and you can once again try to make sense of it all.

moving on

Looks like my fears were real. I've erred on the side of too forward without actually having the courage enough to be straightforward. So once again, another "option" misunderstood, miscommunicated, missed. At least here I have an opportunity to carry out another resolution (since I've already fallen short of all my other ones): to let go and move on. Realistically, what have I lost? A little pride, but no real harm done. Well, perhaps a friendship may have suffered a very little, but I believe time will prove to be a satisfying balm. All in all, I'm disappointed things turned out the way they did, but in the grand scheme of things, it hardly matters. It's just the price to pay for being overeager. Let's hope I don't make the same mistake again.

le sigh

I confuse myself sometimes. I wonder if I'm too forward and obvious, or if I'm too subtle and distant. And right now, in my resolution to be more courageous, I can't help but fear I've erred on the side of being too forward. Just once, I'd like to get this right.

On another front (but also related to courage), I'm tired of being walked on and taken advantage of. I'm really tired of being stood up. I tried to tell myself at first that I was just being sensitive and overthinking things, but enough is enough. There is such a thing as common courtesy. Let me know if you can't make plans. It's only 30 seconds of your time "wasted" to give me a call, rather than several hours of mine waiting for your call.