Have you ever been without your phone? Or more specifically your smartphone? I'm dying.
It's my fault for not trying harder to get a job. Now I'm wading through these agency jobs and mess of home care jobs, and I can't work at those right now.
Anything that I love, I go to the extreme. I love books. I don't have a lot of money, so I shop Salvation Army or a few yard sales and buy 20 books for 20 bucks, instead of a few. At the library, I can't decide, and end up with 2 bags of books. WHO reads 30 books FOR FUN in 3 weeks? Ok, well, I know I can, but I usually don't end up doing that. I end up reading half...then end up owing $50 of shame, because I am embarrassed to take back 30 books after being late for a week...then the guilt drives me crazy until I take all those unread books back to where they belong. Most likely, I will recheck them out in the future...
...I don't have my phone...The side is broken from using more than one charger. Did you know that can happen? Like I'm supposed to take my phone charger everywhere with me to charge my phone. I just found out, that your battery can die and become impossible to deal with, if you don't charge your phone the right way. What makes sense is to plug your phone in at night, charge it while you're sleeping, and wake up refreshed with a cell phone with a full battery. Not quite. You know that annoying beep that happens when the battery is charged? That's when it wants to be off the chain. The battery becomes abused in some way from being "over-charged" or plugged in too long. So those two things have broke down my phone.
I live in between Detroit and Ann Arbor, Michigan. ANOTHER cop in West Bloomfield (which is supposed to be a ritzy part of Michigan), was shot and killed. A man with 4 young kids. At this moment they are tearing apart a mansion with a bulldozer to get the gunman out to take him to jail. What the hell goes through people's mind to justify this? What makes you think you can take a gun and threaten someone's life? This is the same town where the Grandmother killed her grandson that was supposed to be on K-2. Maybe something is in the water. To me, it's just unbelievable that I share the world with people like this.
***EDIT: I guess I was wrong. He was the first fatality in West Bloomfield. There is also a city called BLoomfield (obviously to the east), that I know that officers have been killed. Last week, a man of 4 kids was found in his driveway shot and killed, no one even looked outside because gun shots are the norm. Guess what city that is?! Lovely, Detroit. You can only guess how many deaths I see on the news everyday being a part of Metro Detroit, in Wayne County. I actually live closer to Washtenaw county, thank God. THIS weekend, the one of Mayor Bing's 20 assigned unmarked police cars was stolen in front of his mansion. I think it's more probable that the world will end, before Detroit gets cleaned up.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Monday, September 3, 2012
Wow. That last one a was a little intense :) But I'm glad I got it off my chest....
Today is Labor Day, one of those non-descript holidays, the last before the leaves start to change color and you can see your breath in the early and late hours. Most of the time, especially now, we don't do much. I have had only one set of Grandparents since I've been born, and my Grandpa passed in 2007. We don't gather there like we used to. So I don't have much on my plate for today, just a normal Monday for me. I wish I had pictures to post, but I'm still without a phone....perhaps this week, I'll get my new one. Time will only tell!!
Today is Labor Day, one of those non-descript holidays, the last before the leaves start to change color and you can see your breath in the early and late hours. Most of the time, especially now, we don't do much. I have had only one set of Grandparents since I've been born, and my Grandpa passed in 2007. We don't gather there like we used to. So I don't have much on my plate for today, just a normal Monday for me. I wish I had pictures to post, but I'm still without a phone....perhaps this week, I'll get my new one. Time will only tell!!
Sunday, September 2, 2012
I miss her
I haven't been writing a lot. I'm okay with that.
After two years, I still get this horrible stabbing, sharp pain that squeezes my heart, and I remember I can't tell my sister whatever it was that popped into my mind, that I wanted to tell her. I didn't do grief counseling afterwards, because I was getting treatment for my addiction to opiates...mostly pain pills. But once in a while, I will get a flashback, to the early morning when my sister finally came home for the last time. It was really fucked up. The entire thing. I can't even describe the different kinds of pain and hurt and torments that her cancer did to me and my family. We are a close family. We don't always mesh well, but my parents love us very much, and are the type to stay with you, or make sure there is someone with you at ALL times if you are in the hospital. I've been in the hospital 3 times. The first was for the birth of my daughter. That's a WHOLE other story, I'll save for another time. The 2nd time, was for a really stupid move on my part when I tried to take my life...again, I'll save for another time. I was really dumb and young. And the last time, was when I was in nursing school. I'll just say that there was fluid around my heart, and I had pneumonia. Again, another story, but I'll probably never have the nerve to tell you about it. We'll see.
The worst feeling I've ever had was when she came home. I actually broke out in hives and had a really bad reaction to something, the night she came home. I thought I was giving birth to the devil and almost passed out on the toilet for a few minutes, dripping in sweat... (probably TMI for you, but sometimes I write just for me) I was fine a few hours later.
The next morning I was awake really early in the morning, like 4 or 5 a.m. She woke up, kinda moaning in pain, which was normal for her, and her fiance woke up to see what she needed. She was so little in her hospital bed. I freaked out at My Life in the Moment... I went into the kitchen and broke down into a paralyzed fetal position. I was screaming silently, my eyes wide open with tears streaming down my face. It was such a surreal moment. Life is Fucked..played over and over and over in my mind, as I pounded my fist into the floor without trying to make any noise, while my other fist was shoved in my mouth to keep the scream from coming out...It was only for a few seconds, but so much adrenalin and other weird hormones were released. I never want to go through that moment again...I imagine it's the same feeling you get if you are told your husband/kids are killed in a car accident. or some other horrible tragedy that was totally unexpected. What can you do with that? How do people go on with their lives, and laugh the next week, when they are living life again, and I'm trapped in this surreal bubble that feels like I'm running out of air at ALL TIMES?! That was one of the messed up things about it.
Look, I really like the F word. i say it all the time. Well, not in front of children or strangers or things like that. Mostly when I'm talking to my friends, or driving in the car. I feel weird not writing it. But since, it can be offensive, I'll try to limit my cursing. But really...sometimes the only word that works to fit the situation is Fuck. Like the time when I met everyone up at the hospital around 10 am. Her nurses, Oncology Dr. and his NP, some other attendings and the DR on her case. My dad's face was red, and everyone was there a few minutes early, so when I walked in the room, I already knew what was happening. The Doc's were looking at the floor or the ceiling, or any other focal point except into our eyes...My sister had tears running down her face, and her voice was raspy and she said "there's nothing else they can do." I was so f*ing mad. More mad at these people than I've ever been mad at anyone in my life. I remember throwing my bag onto the floor to slide it against the chairs/wall/window where my parents were sitting. My dad starting to break down in tears. I just looked at the doctor's in this rage and said "this is F*ed up". Then I started to have a panic attack. And this is a panic attack...not an anxiety attack. I sucked in all the air in the room and wasn't able to get it out. I was dizzy and numb and went into the bathroom in some kind of panicky rage. I heard my mom tell the doctors that I have anxiety attacks...but this was different from the rage and hurt that was flooding my brain. I wanted to beat the shit out of the wall. Then I sorta slumped down and cried and took a deep breath, and held this all in so I could be strong for my sister, so she wasn't scared. This whole moment that took 20 seconds or so, has so many different emotions that I felt, it took 5 minutes to write. I held it ALL in. I made the numb stone face and went back into the room to glare at the incompetent doctors who couldn't fix my sister. Then someone spoke up and said there was some last thing they were hoping to do. I can't remember what happened, but she wasn't finished with her fight then. It's really early in the morning when I write this. I have horrible insomnia at night, and I sleep during the day. I hate it.
But, I took my pain pills to kill the pain that was in my heart all the time, because I felt that I could focus that way...It was a total cop out. But that's what I did. That is how I got through situations like that. Situations, like the one where I was on the floor, are drilled as a secret memory in my brain, because I try to push it down and down until it becomes so small, like a seed. and then when my racing mind stumbles on that thought, it's like opening a birthday card with something that pop's out at you...It's like that, and the torment, rage, and pain opens up again as you stumble against that memory. It's probably some kind of post-traumatic flash back, but it's so real. And it's like a VERY sparse landmine field. Imagine 50 acres that you are walking on for weeks, then you step on one of those babies and it blows up in your face without warning...That seed is usually hidden really well. It only comes up every 6 or so months. Then I have a moment like this. I never have written it down before. Maybe this will help. Journal through the pain.
I know she's in a better place. I imagine that she's an angel (her name IS Angela-but only call her Angie), and she has a slight blue hue, and she is smiling and looking more peaceful that she has ever been, and she's wearing a flowing gown with small wings. That's what I want. I try to put all my faith and belief in God, that is what happens when our spirit leaves this realm. But I'm not going to go there. But that's what get's me through it.
There can be nothing worse than the feeling of losing your child...I know how painful it is for a sibling, but can't even imagine that pain for a parent. I feel for everyone that has a major loss in their lives. Sorry this post is sporatic...I'm just writing it out, without trying to be perfect, but trying to make sense to the reader. I need a lot of practice.
After two years, I still get this horrible stabbing, sharp pain that squeezes my heart, and I remember I can't tell my sister whatever it was that popped into my mind, that I wanted to tell her. I didn't do grief counseling afterwards, because I was getting treatment for my addiction to opiates...mostly pain pills. But once in a while, I will get a flashback, to the early morning when my sister finally came home for the last time. It was really fucked up. The entire thing. I can't even describe the different kinds of pain and hurt and torments that her cancer did to me and my family. We are a close family. We don't always mesh well, but my parents love us very much, and are the type to stay with you, or make sure there is someone with you at ALL times if you are in the hospital. I've been in the hospital 3 times. The first was for the birth of my daughter. That's a WHOLE other story, I'll save for another time. The 2nd time, was for a really stupid move on my part when I tried to take my life...again, I'll save for another time. I was really dumb and young. And the last time, was when I was in nursing school. I'll just say that there was fluid around my heart, and I had pneumonia. Again, another story, but I'll probably never have the nerve to tell you about it. We'll see.
The worst feeling I've ever had was when she came home. I actually broke out in hives and had a really bad reaction to something, the night she came home. I thought I was giving birth to the devil and almost passed out on the toilet for a few minutes, dripping in sweat... (probably TMI for you, but sometimes I write just for me) I was fine a few hours later.
The next morning I was awake really early in the morning, like 4 or 5 a.m. She woke up, kinda moaning in pain, which was normal for her, and her fiance woke up to see what she needed. She was so little in her hospital bed. I freaked out at My Life in the Moment... I went into the kitchen and broke down into a paralyzed fetal position. I was screaming silently, my eyes wide open with tears streaming down my face. It was such a surreal moment. Life is Fucked..played over and over and over in my mind, as I pounded my fist into the floor without trying to make any noise, while my other fist was shoved in my mouth to keep the scream from coming out...It was only for a few seconds, but so much adrenalin and other weird hormones were released. I never want to go through that moment again...I imagine it's the same feeling you get if you are told your husband/kids are killed in a car accident. or some other horrible tragedy that was totally unexpected. What can you do with that? How do people go on with their lives, and laugh the next week, when they are living life again, and I'm trapped in this surreal bubble that feels like I'm running out of air at ALL TIMES?! That was one of the messed up things about it.
Look, I really like the F word. i say it all the time. Well, not in front of children or strangers or things like that. Mostly when I'm talking to my friends, or driving in the car. I feel weird not writing it. But since, it can be offensive, I'll try to limit my cursing. But really...sometimes the only word that works to fit the situation is Fuck. Like the time when I met everyone up at the hospital around 10 am. Her nurses, Oncology Dr. and his NP, some other attendings and the DR on her case. My dad's face was red, and everyone was there a few minutes early, so when I walked in the room, I already knew what was happening. The Doc's were looking at the floor or the ceiling, or any other focal point except into our eyes...My sister had tears running down her face, and her voice was raspy and she said "there's nothing else they can do." I was so f*ing mad. More mad at these people than I've ever been mad at anyone in my life. I remember throwing my bag onto the floor to slide it against the chairs/wall/window where my parents were sitting. My dad starting to break down in tears. I just looked at the doctor's in this rage and said "this is F*ed up". Then I started to have a panic attack. And this is a panic attack...not an anxiety attack. I sucked in all the air in the room and wasn't able to get it out. I was dizzy and numb and went into the bathroom in some kind of panicky rage. I heard my mom tell the doctors that I have anxiety attacks...but this was different from the rage and hurt that was flooding my brain. I wanted to beat the shit out of the wall. Then I sorta slumped down and cried and took a deep breath, and held this all in so I could be strong for my sister, so she wasn't scared. This whole moment that took 20 seconds or so, has so many different emotions that I felt, it took 5 minutes to write. I held it ALL in. I made the numb stone face and went back into the room to glare at the incompetent doctors who couldn't fix my sister. Then someone spoke up and said there was some last thing they were hoping to do. I can't remember what happened, but she wasn't finished with her fight then. It's really early in the morning when I write this. I have horrible insomnia at night, and I sleep during the day. I hate it.
But, I took my pain pills to kill the pain that was in my heart all the time, because I felt that I could focus that way...It was a total cop out. But that's what I did. That is how I got through situations like that. Situations, like the one where I was on the floor, are drilled as a secret memory in my brain, because I try to push it down and down until it becomes so small, like a seed. and then when my racing mind stumbles on that thought, it's like opening a birthday card with something that pop's out at you...It's like that, and the torment, rage, and pain opens up again as you stumble against that memory. It's probably some kind of post-traumatic flash back, but it's so real. And it's like a VERY sparse landmine field. Imagine 50 acres that you are walking on for weeks, then you step on one of those babies and it blows up in your face without warning...That seed is usually hidden really well. It only comes up every 6 or so months. Then I have a moment like this. I never have written it down before. Maybe this will help. Journal through the pain.
I know she's in a better place. I imagine that she's an angel (her name IS Angela-but only call her Angie), and she has a slight blue hue, and she is smiling and looking more peaceful that she has ever been, and she's wearing a flowing gown with small wings. That's what I want. I try to put all my faith and belief in God, that is what happens when our spirit leaves this realm. But I'm not going to go there. But that's what get's me through it.
There can be nothing worse than the feeling of losing your child...I know how painful it is for a sibling, but can't even imagine that pain for a parent. I feel for everyone that has a major loss in their lives. Sorry this post is sporatic...I'm just writing it out, without trying to be perfect, but trying to make sense to the reader. I need a lot of practice.
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