correction

I would like everyone to know, that I overestimated the amount of time that Stacie was on the phone that night. It just felt like a lot to me. As I mentioned in the post, I wasn't angry or anything. Just frustrated at the events. I am sure that most people wouldn't want a bunch of uncomfortable, sad things happening on or around the time of their birthday.

My step mother was a fun loving gregarious women. She was actually a lot like me in some aspects. I do admit though, that I have held onto the time that we fought and called me an ugly gross fat person.

I feel that I am becoming more numb to death though, maybe because of the field that I am in. Although, I feel pretty numb in general lately to everything. I have had a pretty hard couple of weeks in school and home, and haven't really expressed much of it. The part that I expressed hurt feelings.

I feel sad when trees and flowers die too. I just am not 'good' with death. Whatever that means

birthday mess

This year I had a birthday mess. It started on friday (the 13th, 2 days before my birthday) when my sister Stacie decided to come into town to get some stuff for her new house, but also to take me out to dinner. I was really excited! I felt pretty important. Well, life kind of happened, and at that same time my step mother Phyllis went into critical condition at the hospital. So Stacie and I met for dinner, but most of the dinner was spent with me thanking the waiter for the good service, watching and listening to Stacie talk on the phone, and feeling pretty cheesy that I was eating dinner by myself essentially. Stacie asked me to drive home from the restaurant so that she could talk on the phone some more, and I said that her phone talking could wait. I said that she wasn't going to change anything on the phone during the next 10 minutes and so she could spent it talking with me.

I know I kind of sound like a bitch. Maybe I am. I totally was not being mad about the situation, but more frustrated. People dying when it is my birthday is frustrating.

So, go to the next day. Valentines Day. I have always kind of hated Valentines day. First of all, I have never had a valentine, and second, because I always felt that everyone was so wrapped up in Valentines day that they forgot when it was birthday the next day. I decided to get something for the kids and Moises this year. I got both kids a heart box with chocolates. Edith got a cute pair of Valentine pants and shirt, and Balthezar got some Pokemon cards. I got Moises a stuffed dog that says kiss me on it. I hoped that he would show up with something for me, but that didn't happen. (I have only gotten something on Valentines from him 1 or 2 times in 10 years)

So, Moises came over at around 4 in the afternoon. Right when he got here, I was feeling like taking a quick nap. He wanted to go and visit some friends of his. I told him to give me 15 minutes and I would get up and go. He didn't like that idea, so when I got up and said lets go, he says he doesn't want to go anywhere. He says that he told me that if we didn't go right then we weren't going at all, so now we aren't going. OKAY!

Later on he decided that he wants to take me out to Target or something to get me a birthday present. So we go. I don't really know what I want. We are browsing Target and the kids are really acting up, so we just decide to leave. No present after all.

Onto the actual day of my birth, the 15th. Long story short, my step fathers family has never really embraced our family. They kind of do, but it always feels different when the 'real' family is around. Essentially, I was invited to a brunch, that was really for James, my step brother because he is in town. I was told it was to celebrate my birthday - but no one was told it was my birthday. So people there were like, oh, I wish I had known it was your birthday, I would have bought you a card. I did get a card from Dick and his mom. Am I a total bitch thinking that I should have gotten something INSIDE the card from his mom - my grandmother? I mean, if it were James, or Karissa - the real grandkids, the card would probably have a couple hundred bucks in it. Oh well.

Mom was going to make dinner, but she got home from clinical and was too tired. And that evening my step mother died as well. Gen called because of something and found out about Phyllis being in the hospital and realized that it was my birthday. Happy birthday Joan! And Stacie wished me Happy Birthday when she called to tell me that Phyllis was dead. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

Okay, so mom says she will make my birthday dinner today, monday. Well, it ended up being a clusterfuck as well. Kathy was yelling at the kids for not setting the table right, Balthezar started crying because Kathy was being mean, Joan was trying to get Balthezar to calm down. Then Dick asks my mom something about work, so she storms off to get it done. Dick takes a couple bites and leaves, then Kathy goes to see if mom will come back to eat dinner. Mom is just kind of freaking out, so Kathy decided to leave too. I finished my dinner at the table alone.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOAN!!

Now, don't think that I haven't thought that I should be grateful that on 4 separate days people tried to do something for me for my birthday. I totally see that, and I am grateful. I am also greatful for facebook, because I got a ton of Happy Birthday's from friends around the world. I also called a friend on my birthday and she offered to take me out bowling. That really meant a lot too. My family in Mexico called me to wish me happy birthday was well. That felt really good.

I just think that my birthday was cursed this year.

Week in review

Thinking about my week, it seems like Monday was a million years ago. I took a test on diabetes and on caring for a patient for surgical procedures. I thought I was well prepared. I go to class, I read the book, I do the study guide, I answer questions from extra books with just test questions. Well, I still got only a 78%, which is the minimum for passing. Most of my friends did worse than I did.

I think that is rediculous. If most people fail a test, it means something. The test wasn't written on what we were taught. She picked weird, obscure things that we hadn't discussed. It is really frustrating, but one thing I have found out about nursing instructors - they don't like to be wrong.

I had a horrible day working at the clinical site yesterday. The day started with Edith screaming about how she didn't have the right jacket. She was still screaming when I left her at daycare. Once I got to the hospital, I found out that the patient that I had picked the day before had also been chosen by one of my classmates. So essentially, the hours of homework I did to prepare myself to take care of that person were out. I had to find a new patient, and get to work on getting the paperwork for her.

While I am working, I have a nursing instructor that helps. The way it works is that we pick 1 patient to take care of and do everything for them. We do bed baths, shots, med administration, walking, etc. They have a nurse on duty who is suppossed to take care of them, but if they have a student, the student does the work. So my nurse got really upset at me for not telling her something about my patient earlier in the day. She was rude to me in front of a lot of people.

I had already had enough, so I left and sobbed for a good 10 minutes before going to my post clinical conference. My instructor didn't seem to notice. Someone mentioned how it was horrible how the nurse treated me, and the instruction just said, 'well, I don't know, I wasn't there' It was lame.

I did work with the same nurse today and it turned out much better. Sorry I am kind of vague, I can't go into too much detail because of privacy rules.

I found out today that my step mother is going to die. I am more emotional than I thought I would be. We don't see each other often, and have had a fight or two. We only talk maybe two times a year. I feel guilty that I didn't call her when I found out she was sick and in the hospital a week ago. Now she is in a coma and won't ever come out. I guess it is a good lesson and calling people when you are thinking about them, instead of putting it off.

I worry about the future and what it holds. My dad will be alone. He hasn't ever been alone. He is pretty close with my sister Stacie, and I am sure that she will be a big support for him. I worry that she won't be able to handle the additional pressure. She has 4 kids of her own. In the short run it is obviously what she needs to do. I just don't know about the future. My dad needs a lot of care because of his disabilites. It isn't something stacie and her family are able to do. He will probably find a nice senior living type of place with help.

I am just feeling somewhat depressed about the whole thing. Dying is so weird. I don't think I believe in an afterlife. I don't know about that. It seems that the people who hurt the most are the ones who are still alive. Working in the hospital, I have seen people who have gotten to a point in their lives where they are unable to do anything for themselves, or who are comatose and don't even speak or move. Death seems better than that, but if there is nothing after that, I can see how people would be afraid to die. I have had a patient who had a feeding tube in their stomach and all they could do was open their eyes. How is that being alive? Is that being dead? I can't even imagine. I would never want to live like that. It seems like such a waste.

I should go to bed. I am probably mispelling, not making sense, and I am falling asleep as I am sitting here.

they like me, they really like me

I am just glad for the support that I have gotten the past week. One of my best friends from the time that I was taking my prerequisites called me for the first time in forever. We have just kind of drifted apart because of life. We used to spend every day together, hanging out, studying, eating her awesome homemade food. Now we are both super busy and never see each other. It was really nice for the call.

Then my dad called me and offered me support. We don't talk often. I am not good at communication with him on my part. It seems that if I am not seeing people all the time, I have a hard time writing or calling.

My sister called and wanted to make a date - which didn't work out in the end, but I guess it is the thought that counts.

I was invited to a party for someones new blog. Not sure if I will go because I am not really hip, and she is a really hip Seattlite. I would like to though - I just don't want to stick out like a sore thumb.

My sister Gen called -we talk pretty often though, but it is nice that we do. Once she got married and moved away we barely talked for a year or two. Slowly it has become much more often which I enjoy. It is hard when she comes to visit though, because I don't want to let her go back home!

Just several ways that I was reasurred that people actually do care about me. Thanks guys! I love you too.

asshole and a slob

I have a secret. Well, truth be told not a huge one because those who have ever been to my house know it - or lets just say my family knows it. I am a HUGE slob. I hate cleaning. I constantly have shit all over the place. Books, papers, pens, crayons, random shit, pretty much everywhere. I try to keep it from getting too crazy, but it does, because I am an asshole and I dont like to clean.

I am not trying to be sarcastic. I really believe that. I feel guilty about not cleaning more, but not guilty enough to actually make some real progress. I mean, today, I sorted some socks. Progress? I don't know if that counts. I try to clean up dishes after myself, but I don't sometimes. And not only am I am asshole slob, I am that slob, in someone else's home. It isn't my home. I can't just live that way and have it be the way it is, like my sister Gen. No. I get to constantly feel the pressure of my assholeness from being messy.

Of course, no matter where I go I feel that pressure. It is inside my head. I get clues from other people, but I only make it mean stuff in the space in my brain.

I spent Saturday afternoon until sunday morning at my old house in Puyallup. It looked so nice. Now, if me and the kids were living there, it wouldn't look so good. Right now, it is just moises. But I thought to myself how lovely it would feel to be able to have all my crap where ever I wanted it, and not have to worry about it getting thrown around, peed on, chewed up, or in someone else's space - because get this - it would actually be my space. I wouldn't have to feel guilty about having my stuff, I would just have the guilt of being messy.

What is wrong with being messy? Really, what is wrong with it? For some reason there is a judgement about if you have a neat tidy house you are a good person, and of course, I am a bad person for being messy. That of course is linked to childhood drama - and it pisses me off that I still use that pitiful excuse. Why don't I just stop being a lazy asshole and get my shit together?

And no, I don't believe that it would be sunshine and lolipops if I lived in Puyallup. I would have some other person telling me I am a lazy asshole. He would just say it out loud, instead of being passive aggressive about it. Well, he would probably be passive agressive about it too.

In the meantime, I will refer to a recent conversation with Balthezar. It went something like this: me: Balthezar, you need to pick up your room. B: Why? Me: Because it is messy! B: SO?

That is right, SO?

I hate what goes on in my head

Do you ever wish that you could just shut the voice in your head up? I do. I think it constantly. I think too goddamn much.

You know what fucking sucks? It sucks that my asshole husband is the most steady person in my life. He may be an asshole, but at least he sticks around for me. He comes back with his fucking tail between his legs and apologizes if it was real bad, but he comes back. He calls me. He makes jokes with me. He tried to make plans with me. He continues to be an asshole, but I guess I at least get some attention.

I hate my fucking family. Yes. That is how I feel today. I might not feel it tomorrow, so give me a fucking break when I feel better, alright? Or is that not allowed. And can I please just be angry and fucking vent without having some other person be codependant and feel bad because I had some strong fucking emotions.

I feel like I am having some realizations about why I do the things I do, although it doesn't make it any better. I have been abandoned a lot. Sometimes for real, sometimes just in my adult head that still feels like it is a little kid not wanting to be abandoned. I know on an adult level that when someone doesn't return your phone calls, it is just that life has happened, right? In my brain, I hear 'well, they don't love you, they don't have time for you, they don't really care about you'. When someone that I like makes plans that I hear about - lets say for a camping trip or some other thing, and I am not part of it, my brain says, 'see, no one really likes you and they never will. Why would they invite you in the first place. You aren't really their friend, you aren't important to them.' I hate the phsycotherapy shit about how you try to fix mistakes from your past with people from your present. The f-ing weird part is that it seems to be true.

The thing is, I hate that I turn something outside myself into something about me. I mean, I guess I can see how if someone is planning something with someone else, they aren't thinking 'screw you Joan' but that is how I feel sometimes. I know that it is a kind of learned behavior from other people in my family. What bothers me too, is that when other people in my family do it, it bothers the hell out of me. I know that I am kind of talking in code here. Sorry.

Now I have sat here crying for 10 minutes with a million more thoughts going through my head but I can't even write them down, because in the end it will all just come back to bite me. I am just having a lot of self loathing right now. I hate myself for not studying more. I don't know why I can't force myself to do more. I have free time on my hands on most days, but instead of doing something productive, I usually just sleep, eat, and use the computer. I do study, but in my head it just isn't enough. I spend time with my kids, but it usually isn't a lot of time, and half of it I just feel like strangling my daughter. Some days are better than others. I am working 16 hours a week at the hospital, and I do have about 7 hours of lecture a week - but what about all that comes inbetween that. What really sucks is that most of the time, I feel so lonely. I mean, really really lonely. I can't seem to be alone with myself, without filling the time with food to distract me from feeling so lonely. At least when I feel sick from eating I can focus on that. It feels better to have a stomach ache than to have a heart ache. And I don't even know why. I am around people a lot. I still just feel alone.

I wish that life were always fun and pretty, with cute puppies that don't chew or pee on things, and rainbows and kittens, and money and peace.