seashells

Like New Years Eve was not meant to turn out despite all of my plans, I am organizing my final clinical grad school placement, and it seems that no amount of planning will ease me away from the one place I didn't want to go - back to the first place I worked as a new nurse. Sometimes fate seems undeniable. Like my classmate said to me today, maybe this is my chance to go back and leave feeling good. There are also some undeniable advantages to the area of practice. I am drawn to the situations and circumstances of the families you see in critical care. I find myself drawing on these experiences, looking at ways of re-conceptualizing care. My hope was to be in a new area that made me want to be in the hospital setting the way I thought I wanted to in the beginning. Sometimes the best thing to do is ride the wave and see where it takes you. I only hope that this wave is smooth and gentle, leaving only seashells and seaweed, not destruction, in its wake.

because I want to

Had a horrible headache all evening. It is cold and there is supposed to be a storm tomorrow. I think I will go to bed now...

separation anxiety

Back to work and nothing much has changed. Things were fine there, but I was restless sitting at my desk. I get that way sometimes and I just want to "forest gump" it - walk and walk and walk..... I left work and walked toward home until my ears were hurting too much from the cold. I took the subway the rest of the way. Right now I am between my after work sleepy phase and my second wind. It is almost a guarantee that soon I will be wide awake.

Last night I read until 11:30 and then I turned out the light. I probably fell asleep sometime after midnight and woke up at 1:10 AM from a terrible dream. I was crying out loud. It was about my mother. She was telling me to do something a certain way and I was taking notes. She kept telling me I was wrong and I had to keep erasing everything I wrote. I pleaded with her to just let me do it (whatever "it" was). I told her she was being like my old boss who never gave me the benefit of the doubt. I though that would get through to her but instead she coldly informed me I would have to prove myself. I knew that no matter how much I proved myself it would never be enough. I was overcome with frustration - devistated. I was pinching her and wailing. I remember thinking, 'how can she think this? I am almost finished grad school'.

I feel so uncomfortable about this dream. It is particularly interesting given my entry only a couple of hours before the dream where I rejected my inner "Mother" and took back the night. I don't know exactly what it was about but I feel like it is dripping substance. I feel that as I am coming to accept myself without solely attending to others, I am distancing myself from her. I think that I was so aligned with her before that she is like the other part of me that wants me to stay where I was. This is all so confusing and traumatic. One of my worst fears has always been about separation from my Mother, and at some level, growing more comfortable in my skin means creating that separation.

I'm hot

My apartment is so hot. Do you think it is normal that I make no move to turn down the heat? Sadly, I am so excited to not be cold now that I am back from being in my parents freezing house I am relishing the heat. I wonder if it isn't good for me to be this hot?

I feel like a 5 year old - I don't want to go to bed (insert kvetchy voice). Maybe I just won't until I feel like it from now on. If I get too tired from staying up, then I will want to go to bed and then I will, right? Why do I feel guilty when I am not in bed "at a decent hour". It is like I have a built in Mother in my brain. I am 30! I love staying up late so fuck it.

It is 2005. Maybe this year will be a big year for me. I will finish grad school, travel a bit, find an interesting career path, write, paint, dance, have fun, and meet someone (not in any particular order).

is there anybody out there

I wonder if there is anyone out there that reads this blog.

It is Sunday - not just any Sunday, but the the Sunday before I return to work after holidays. Amplifying the gravity of the day is that many do not go back to work until Tuesday. I wish that I didn't work tomorrow. I would much prefer a Monday-Sunday. It wouldn't feel as bad because it is not really a Sunday.

My Mom bought me a tank top that says "kvetch" in hebrew-oid lettering across the chest. I love it. The reason it occurs to me at this moment is that I should stop kvetching. Truth be told, I don't feel any particularly strong "Sunday" feeling today, so I am not sure why I exaggerated it so. I will just chalk it up to entertaining myself.

I got a contact from a cute guy over the holidays. I emailed him today and he emailed back. Still sounds cute. Will keep you posted.

all is well that ends well

Lot's has happened. My family returned to relative harmony, sick brother feels better, little brother back to his sweet self for the most part. A bit of turmoil hit which I suppose put things into more perspective (like we needed more perspective with the asian tragedy). My grandfather died somewhat unexpectedly. He was 75. We took the 4 hour drive to go to the funeral. I only seem to go there when there are funerals. It has been a hard couple of days and perhaps at a later date I will go into details. These are the kinds of moments that bring everything on a collision course - the moment where everything changes in different ways for everyone. I just don't have it in me right now. I happen to be sitting at home alone on New Years Eve. Isn't that what I had hoped to do? Funny how things work out.

normal insane

Christmas 2004 is almost over. I will be thrilled to have the planet return to its normal insane self.

Today I went to see Kinsey, the movie about the sex researcher. It was a good one and Liam Neisen is hot and the story is very interesting.

It has gotten cold here, luckily I didn't leave the house today (again). Surely that will get old fast. I ate so much today I am disgusting. I did that with a stomach that has already been off since I got home. Very smart. I think it is because I generally eat more when I am here and I am not used to it.

I have spent a little time while I have been here thinking about what my plans are for next year. I am keeping an open mind, but the idea of spending a few months in Australia is not out of the question. Neither is the idea of moving to FL. I am scared of so many things, but people don't tend to regret trying something new, rather they often regret not doing something (thanks Mom). I need to think about this more clearly later, but in the meantime I should start next month paying only my minimum loan payments and bank the rest so that I can continue them even if I am away.

My mother also recommended to me that I stop limiting myself to only dating Jewish guys...my MOTHER... I wasn't actually doing it for her. It is something that has always been important to me. Funny enough, I always get the feeling that I am going to end up with a non-Jewish guy despite my effort. Who knows... I got a little upset with my Mom saying, "I don't want my boyfriend to be Christmas crazy or have a cross over his bed". She had a good point when she reminded me that chances are I wouldn't find a guy for me that was like that and vice versa. We wouldn't be each other's "thing". Regardless, I am going to do what is right for me, whatever that may be.

not hot

So far it has been part relaxing, part the best and fastest way to bring out the worst in me. One brother is sick and irritable, the other particularly obnoxious (it is so rare for me to say anything negative about the baby of the family, so it must be bad). Basically, all of the things that are wrong with me and the world are magnified. Combine that with a lack of nicotine and you have a 2 year old in a 30 year old's body - temper tantrums are so not hot in someone my age.

I went to a party last night and it just wasn't fun. I couldn't wait to get out of there. It couldn't be that the party just sucked...it must be me, right? I don't think that is true in reality, but that is how the last 2 days have been going.

lots of thingies

Just getting the last few things packed and ready to go. I have so many cables and cords to take with me now that I have the ibook and ipod. I also have the cell and charger, camera and connector thingy. I practically need a separate bag for that shit, not to mention my cosmetics... I have learned to go light on the luggage. I used to pack almost everything I own, but now I limit it to 3 or 4 pairs of pants, several tops, boots, sneakers, and casual shoes. I pack a lot of the dirty clothes I have and the first thing I do when I get home is put on a wash. I guess it will be another step to adulthood when I pre-wash and pack all my clean clothes (meaning when I have my own washer/dryer).

They are calling for snow just in time for the ride to the airport - I hope it isn't too bad and there aren't big delays. This time of year is pretty bad for that. I can't wait to see my family!

I will still post over vacation. Until then...

New Years Bliss

Being virtually the only single person in my entire group of friends has just bitten me in the ass once again. I decided to come back for New Years from my trip home because, for the first year in a long time, nothing much seemed to be going on there. I am not a fan of the New Year, and I figured I would just do something casual here. The Aussie and my old roomate said, not to worry, we will figure out something casual to do by the time you get back. I just spoke to my other old roommate and mentioned that vague plan when she said, oh, well do you want to come to Jack and Lana's with us? Apparently the Aussie couple was planning to do that as well all along. Well, I immediately felt like jumping off my balcony. That is a group of couples that do couple things. I can not stand it. They are all nice people but it is my worst nightmare.

I had a fit and then decided to cancel my plans home and go south or to London last minute, only when I was investigating the possibility, I realized that in my recent break-in, they had stolen my passport. Those plans are out of the question. Now I am tossing around the idea of telling people here that I am staying home for New Years but coming back anyway and just staying here by myself. The only problem with that is I would have to make up a story about my night, rather than admit to watching movies alone, when everyone and their dog asks the obligatory question, "what did you do for New Years?". I could go to this party that a friend of mine is throwing at a club, but then they all have their signifiacnt others with them. I could still go, and at 11:58, sneak out or go to the washroom to avoid the moment of watching everyone else kiss, desperately looking relaxed at being kissless, or grabbing a couple and kissing them both, all the while laughing my good-natured single laugh. This is pathetic and horrible and desperate. Even worse, this is nothing of the sorrow, the real sorrow that is out there in the world and I have no right to wallow in this shallow pool. What the fuck should I do???? I need to figure this out, and fast.

fear of flying

Tonight I stayed home and watched the movie, "Seducing Doctor Lewis". It was a cute story line - French with English subtitles. I also bought the movie, "Secret Lives of Dentists" which was 6.99, so I could watch it on the plane on my notebook. I cleaned, rearranged some furniture, weeded some songs out of my itunes, and watered the plants. It feels good to be doing the spring cleaning thing - or winter cleaning... Part of me is looking forward to going home. It is nice to be with my family, but I will miss my apartment and my balcony. I will miss smoking whenever I want. I will miss the quiet. I look forward to some home cooking, and seeing my friends and the new baby. I am happy not to be working. My brother has mono, so I can keep him company and help nurse him back to health - poor guy.

In the past, when I was preparing to go away, the chief concern for me was getting there. Since I was 8 years old I had an extreme fear of flying. At that time my parents brought me to my first therapist because I adamantly refused to go to Florida on our family vacation. The fear was likely related to the death of entire family that lived down the street from me. They had 2 kids close to my age that went to my school. They were killed in the Air India bombing back in 1983. I don't remember an explicit connection, but it was around the same time that this fear presented. It went through phases where it was more manageable, but in my late teens and early twenties, it got pretty bad. I actually took the train for 2 days once rather than fly a couple of hours, not to mention the number of times I just didn't go away. I took medication, I tried drinking, but nothing did the trick. It started to extend to other areas. I was afraid in cars, at first on highways and at night, and then it was just in general. I was terrified of the subway and streetcar. It was really quite immobilizing. There was a period of about 8 years where my life got progressively smaller. Of course this was reflected in my social and romantic life too, and just in the general quality of my life.

I decided to see a therapist. The first one I saw in my late teens should have called himself a pharmacologist (or better still, a drug dealer). Sadly, his practice is alive and well, in pediatric psychiatry no less. I know this because I have crossed paths with him professionally since - no surprise that he didn't recognize me.

Several years later I tried again, and this time I met Dr. Cognitive Therapy. His sessions involved listening to a tape of his voice conducting progressive relaxation bullshit while he sat behind his desk, typing on his computer - clearly an expert in the therapuetic relationship.

Finally, I was referred to a psychodynamic psychotherapist. I will refer to him as my therapist. His motto is, "you do what you do". He doesn't give advice, because he says he doesn't have all of the answers. Slowly I have grown to respect him because he doesn't pretend to know, even when it would be easier. This was very frustrating in the beginning, especially because I thought I wanted someone to take care of me and tell me what to do. Sometimes in the beginning it felt like we weren't doing anything at all.

If I don't talk, he generally doesn't either - a little disconcerting to say the least until you get used to it. I have been seeing him for 6 years. You might think that is a long time, and maybe even too long, but I have come to realize that all of my fears were just the outward reflections of some fundamental issues. I talk about my reactions to life and try to understand myself in a variety of ways and contexts. Slowly, the fears decreased, changed, or just subtly fell away altogether. This is not a dramatic process.

Not only am I not having weeks of anxiety in preparation for my trip, but I have flown to several exciting and exotic destinations in the past few years. I am finding an appreciation for life, but most importantly, I am figuring out how to be comfortable in my skin - my real skin. I am not yet there, but I have come to the realization that I am a mixture of intensity and passion, something I was never comfortable with. Now that I have gotten past many of the distracters I am starting to appreciate rather than suppress the life inside me. Good and bad, messy, and confusing. I would not trade that for the perfection that used to torment me.

My fear if flying was just that: a fear of soaring, of oozing, of loving it all too much.