Tuesday, 30 September 2014

But You See For Now, I Got My Own Things

Do you feel the weight of the world singing sorrow, or to you is it just not real? Cause you got your own things. Yeah, we all have our things I guess.

I wrote words about specifics. About the reasons I feel like I am suffocating and cannot find air. And then I realized it didnt matter. We all have our things. I am just a bit hung up in my own stuff right now. I feel trapped. Sometimes it feels like my degrees are not real. Like Australia never happened. I have been gone for so long and stuck doing nothing useful for a period of time so infinite that even I begin to wonder. And perhaps this is just all catching up in this moment. As I watch people I love having babies, and about to have babies and working in their careers and travelling and doing all of the things I want to be doing. And here I am in stagnant waters. Watching the water rise without being able to move.

I have always wanted to be something. Someone. And these days I look in the mirror and realize I am just here, stuck. Stuck with hair that makes me mental and wanting to change it but feeling the pressure not to. Stuck in a job that so literally is killing my soul and yet all of my attempts to escape seem thwarted. Feeling the pressures of loans and real life and knowing I cannot just escape. I am letting myself down. And it is taking a toll.

I just want to get out of this bog and become the grazing antelope that draws the attention of the other animals with its beauty and strength. I want to be excited and overzealous to share about my life, not frustrated and ashamed. I just want to this weight of the world to adjust to a more tolerable level long enough to let me regroup.

Your Lipstick, His Collar, Dont Bother Angel

I had a perpetual list. It was re-occurring and never ending. I was continually trying to remind myself what I was looking for. What was important. What qualities matter. A list that I would ignore more blatantly than expected. I knew what I wanted but I never went for it. Perhaps I didnt want something real. I chose people with qualities I surely did not want in order to give myself an out.

Now that I am old and married I look back at those necessities. Some things were a given. Religion. Respect. Male. And some seemed less important to others, like sharing the same taste in music. This one seems less relevant. It is the most relevant.

My writing has always had a strong basis in lyrics. Lyrics often missed. Gone unnoticed and unacknowledged. And I spent a long time trying to convince myself it would be okay if my partner didnt know Houston Calls and TBS. If they would never want to listen to my music or go to the concerts I lived for. I was wrong. 

Last night we went to see TBS and The Used. Bands from our High School Era. Their beginnings in our lives was monumental, they shaped our memories. Their disputes fueled my passion. I had a playlist devoted to the songs that John, Adam and Jesse wrote about each other. Their angst provided songs for my "I Hate You" mix cds. So as John was on stage near Adam my husband and I discussed how John came and went and the fires fueled. We related to the days of Straylight Run while John was on his own. And we sang our hearts out. He didnt just accept how important the concert was for me, he shared in it. He held my hand and bought me a band shirt and thrived with me.

Lists often include qualities that are unrealistic. We paint pictures of partners that are impossible to find. Yet when we find the one we realized what really did matter. Sharing the same taste in music really did matter to me. 

I never said I'd take this lying down.

Friday, 26 September 2014

I Saw The Beauty In Your Soul, The Way You Are

Overjoyed. The step was smaller than a babies. Tiny. Just a movement but perhaps it meant everything. I was feeling again.

I have been so caught up for nearly two years. Exams. Stress. Trying to get somewhere that seemed impossible. Then the moment the door opened and I could work there was nothing. It was as if I opened a long anticipated door only to find an empty room. The jobs I had convinced myself I wanted were not what I wanted. The jobs I now wanted didnt seem to exist. I was trapped. My eggs had been thrown over the fence into this empty room. Maybe I had been hoping for something that wasnt real. Perhaps all of this time had made me realize I didnt want this.

Until yesterday. I finally had that feeling again. I felt like myself. I felt alive. It was as if I had been suffocating for so long that I forgot what air felt like and then all of a sudden there was oxygen. My life was back. I want this more than almost anything. This interview could be the rest of my life. A real interview. I passed the screening, they want to see me, to meet me. This is my chance. Five more sleeps until a day that could change my life.

I forgot how beautiful I can be when I am happy. When I feel passion for something. My dream job is close enough I can breathe it. I need this.

Thursday, 25 September 2014

I Can Be Everything You Ever Wanted, If You Can Be What I Always Wanted

I wanted to write that the anticipation was building. The truth is that the build up was of anxiety. A time frame closing in. I said I was leaving, I cannot stay. I do not want to stay. I must step away. Yet I dont have a date. a closing time. I need one. I need to close this chapter. To finally lay it to rest. Since 2005. The seniority. The label. A lot has happened, most of which I want to shelf. This place did not make me who I was. I survived this place.

All of those thoughts swirling as I waited for the interview. The forty minutes of questioning was painful. I became acutely aware of my lack of knowledge. I was not the right fit. I felt no joy. It was robotic. I answered the best I good and the only emotions that rose were flusterings and frustrations with inadequate responses. I left not wanting to be called back because how could I say no? Could I?

This morning a missed call started hours of telephone tag. It culminated in a telephone screening. Somewhere new. A dream. The call was a mere ten minutes. The excitement rose with each question and statement. I felt confident. I was told I would get a call later on ( likely days away I am anticipating) to set up a proper interview. Stage one feels complete. I want this. I crave it. This is the dream, the penultimate. What you aspire towards. This is the door I have been desperately searching for. Now to pray it doesnt close on me.

I struggle to show excitement for what I dont want. I feel resentment here. I  need to leave, for my mental health. This door could be the rest of my life. Please call me back. Please make that short list short so I have a real chance. I can be everything you ever wanted.

Monday, 22 September 2014

Rings Of Marriage

As he sat on my lap in church he reached for my ring and said "you got married Lauren". Yes sweetie, I did get married. " You got married to Jeff." Yes I did. " He looks over at Jeff and points to his ring, " Jeff you got married." His sister chimes in, "we were at their wedding, remember." The rest of the afternoon he was telling Jeff that he got married but had seemed to forget that I was married and denied me being married to Jeff.

It was a weekend full of children. My two little ones came for a sleepover. They seem to be growing so fast. I was worried Jeff would be overwhelmed with all of the children time. I let him sleep while I got up and made them breakfast Sunday morning but after that Jeff played with them as if they were ours. It amazes me how natural it comes. I think he worries too much about what it will be like to have our kids. But he will be amazing. Although it was exhausting. After I took them home Sunday arvo we napped. Maybe we really arent that ready. Kids are exhausting, but loving. The simplest things make them happy and they make me so overjoyed. But perhaps the best part was just seeing how natural my husband is with kids, how calmly he can pick them up and through them over a shoulder, or let them snuggle in on the couch as he tries to reply to emails.

We got married.

Friday, 19 September 2014

She Was Mine When She Was Here, But I Think She Has Always Been Yours

I glanced at the clock as I drove. Traffic had been light, I was going to much too early to dinner. I then wondered if anyone else would be early. There was a chance. I knew I was close. The map said less than ten minutes. As I began to exit I realized I was so close to her grave. If I went the opposite direction from what my map said I would be with her in minutes. I merged the opposite way. I had the time and it had been a few months. I crossed my legs and let my head cock to the side as I brushed the stone. Noticing our flowers were long gone. If only I had planned ahead and brought some. Perhaps when I am down that way this weekend. I read the few words and dates over and over. I began to talk. I teared up as I told her about how much has changed. About how I wished she was here. I ached. I explained how the other kids are coming this weekend and how she would have loved them. The girls would be just months apart. Seven. They would have loved each other, I am sure of it. I told her that I thought so. I cried. I shared thoughts of love and finally said goodbye promising that I thought of her everyday.

Only two of us go, that I know of. Perhaps those blood related go. I dont know. I told you about it as we sat in your car after dinner. Of how much I missed her and how she needs more flowers. In your motherly way you looked at me and told me how she was yours when she was with us. You loved her as a daughter, but somehow you always knew she was my baby. I sure love her as if she was mine. I miss those hours together in the hospital. It wasnt long enough. No time would have been long enough. I will be back soon. I promise. I love you.

A Babyless Womb

Eleven months, no wonder the questions come. It all came to a moment of utter acknowledgement that only a few people in the universe understand. Trying to have children for me isnt just trying to have children. It is going off the medication that actually controls the pain. It means for the whole time I try and conceive I will be in excruciating pain. That I will be mind numbingly tired. That taking T3's will be like taking candy in the slightest effort to dull the stabbing pain. I cant just say I should have kids and go for it. I have to calculate, I have to be in  a place where I am able to be be in constant pain. I cant be studying for hopefully the last exam of my life. Or searching for a job. I almost need to have it be a point where I can just live in the bath and at acupuncture, two of the only things that actually take the ache away temporarily. I understand, we have been married for nearly a year and for some people that indicates we should be awaiting a child. I get it. I understand that it can take ages so procrastination seems like wasted time. But you dont understand. I am not like everyone else. My body has demands, demands met by hormones. I am not ready to live in a world of pain until a miracle happens. I am okay right now. I am better than usual. Functioning. Keeping the pain at minimum. I cannot ruin that because other people think I should be getting pregnant.

I am not the same as everyone else. You havent seen me without the miracle hormones. You have not had to sit with me day in and day out as I cried in pain. You have not had to hold my hand in the doctors office after yet another procedure resulting in pain so extreme that I vomit. You haven't been there. You haven't seen me at my worst.

So stop assuming I should be having kids now. Stop thinking I am wasting precious childbearing time. I am taking care of myself, of the challenges that need to happen and be overcome before I can submit to the sickness that will envelop  me the moment I start trying to have a child. I am not you. My journey will not be the same as yours. So wait patiently. I want babies one day. Physically I am just not ready yet. So please wait without judgement.

Thursday, 18 September 2014

I Want You To Want Me

What do you do when it feels like your dreams are on the verge of possibility and you realize those are no longer the dreams you want?

Time passes, perceptions are altered and all of a sudden the jobs I thought would be ideal are ones I now feel hesitant to even consider. I no longer want to be in this organization. I need a fresh start, something to call my own and I have realized I will never feel that here. I took my first role here before my 17th birthday. I have been around the block before, too many times. I know too many people. I just want somewhere that people will look at me as a physiotherapist, not as all those other roles I have filled. I am not here to do their paperwork, or filing or research. I am not here as an assistant or a fitness instructor. I want to be somewhere where I am just recognized for my professional role. I want that clean slate. So what do I do if the interview next week leads to a job? A real job? And the only option I have? How do you say yes just to know you are looking over their shoulder for something better? Can I commit to staying here longer? Or can I just hold out. Wait for what I want?

Sometimes real life reminds us that we have to compromise for what we ultimately want. Experience cannot be replaced by anything else. Experience I lack. Yet where do you draw the lines for mental sanity and the reality that I need time off at Christmas, flights are booked. I almost just want this to be a learning experience at interviewing as one of those other positions opens up. And can I really turn down that yoga job that I thought was ideal? Especially when it is so disorganized. The schedules were supposed to be in our hands Monday, it is Thursday and I still have nothing. I cant quite my job for nothing.

When did my dreams change? When did I start wanting to be in private practice? And to be on my own creating a path? When did I stop wanting to work at the hospital close to home with easy hours? When did I start thinking for myself?

I wanted to want this but I dont think I do now that I am being looked at as a candidate.

Thursday, 11 September 2014

A Wordy Rant Full of Emotion and Frustration Based Off Personal Experiences of Disrespect.

I have never given respect so much thought in my entire twenty six years, 3 months and days, than I have in the last few weeks. I knew respect was important. I always tried to respect my elders. I began to learn to respect myself. But I never thought about others respecting me. This realization and desire for respect has been as double edged as any double edged sword. It has been so enlightening and has helped me love myself to an extent I was not aware of. It has also shaken my core with realizations that others do not hold respect, or more likely respect me, in the regard I do.

I should preface this with the fact that I do not live in the city. I live in a smaller city. This results in a commute to everything.

Last month or so, I had an interview. The commute was short and only 30 minutes each way. I had a lot going on that week but was excited for the opportunity so put my life on hold to make this interview work. The problem was that the interviewer never showed up. I asked at the desk several times and they kept reassuring me that I was best to wait. I waited over an hour. Commuted thirty minutes home. Two hours were gone for nothing. No notice that my interview was not happening. Nothing. I felt enraged when I got home. How could someone care so little about my time to not even let me know they were not going to make it? I emailed said interviewer the next day and eventually heard a response that something came up and ultimately they slept through the interview. An apology was made and I moved on.

However, this situation re-emerged this week. I had been feeling under the weather more so than usual so had spent the day at home. I was finally in a really good study groove but did not want to miss out on my study group so begrudgingly hopped in the car to fight rush hour traffic for the next hour to meet with the group. Being who I am, I was early and happy to sit and wait. Five o'clock emerged, no one. I waited another five minutes before sending a message. No response. Another ten minutes. I called. Study group was cancelled. How were they to know I was coming? I mean I had never missed a single study group up to that point. I had said I was coming. How would they know I wasnt tricking them? They didnt bother to let me know and felt no remorse that I had now wasted ninety minutes. I was livid. Not even an apology! As if this was my own doing! I was fortunate enough to spend the next hour commuting home in rush hour, letting my anger festinate.

Perhaps I am being dramatic. Or perhaps I just want my time to be respected. I want others to recognize that my time is as valuable as their time is. That I also have a busy life and sacrifice for meetings. That I am the one that lives out of town and that driving in rush hour is like being tortured. I just want to feel respected. And to spend my time with people that respect me, not people that do not even think of me as an after thought.

Hence, I have not heard back from said job as they are still trying to get organized and will contact me again in a few weeks. And I am looking for new study partners as I am tired of being unappreciated or recognized.

Respect is weightier than we realize. I hope to disrespect people a lot less often as I have become aware of its effects.

Beautiful, Only Slightly Mental

Appearances deceive.

On paper it sounds like a real life. It sounds more organized than it is. It sounds like a life worked for. So how come inside I feel so mental? Like a basket case. I feel unsettled. I am checking my email constantly hoping for an interview or an offer and constantly seeing nothing. Yet I am hesitant to apply for the jobs I used to think I wanted because now they seem so lackluster and prohibitive. It is as though I have seen just a glimpse of a career I could be part of and now I cant think of anything else. Everything feels so close but just out of reach all at once. I just want to take the next step. To have a career not a job. To feel like I am making a difference but also living the life I have always wanted. I want to move on but ever since the door started to open it is as if time has stopped. I am going mental in my own mind.

But everyone thought she was beautiful only slightly mental. Beautiful only temperamental.

Monday, 8 September 2014

Was This For Real? It's Hard to Tell. Cause it was such a Beautiful Mess

There is uncertainty. Everything is shifting. I would worry about the tectonic plates if I didnt know it was me. How do you feel stable when your life is coming apart around you?I put in notice, but I have no paperwork for the supposed new job. I have no official words that say when it starts. I have ideas and words spoken and unorganized thoughts shared, but that is not enough. I like stability. I wander from change and growth. So how can I just say I am leaving with no certainty? And is this even the right move? What if I could find a physiotherapy position full time? Am I passing on opportunities I am missing because of blinders? And what if I find a place but they will not accommodate Vegas or Christmas? We have plans. I had it so easy. So casual. So little expended. Why do I crave more? Thrive for something real?

Was this for real, it's hard to tell 'Cause it was such a beautiful mess we had got into

Tuesday, 2 September 2014

Selling Myself Like A Prostitute

Self marketing. Not a skill at the top of my resume. Yet exactly the two things being faced. I know I just need to polish this letter to cover my resume but how do you find the words to create a picture that convinces the reader that they need you when they didnt even know they needed anyone? How do you create a picture of yourself while remaining professional and not sounding desperate? 

I know I am worth taking a risk on. I know I have the skills and drive to be great at this. But convincing someone on paper seems a whole lot harder. If only I could just write them a blog post of why I should be hired instead of a cover letter. Professionalism wins out but definitely stifles creativity and self expression. 

Let's hope I dont end up being the last one waiting on the corner.

But If I Dont Break Your Heart, Then Things Will Just Get Worse

When the burden seems too much to bear, remember  the end will justify the pain it took to get us  there.

I am not good at having the conversations that no one wants to have. At saying the unsaid words that need to come out. They come out as thoughts or whispers across a space that feels large and empty. They come out as sarcasm or passing thoughts as life travels between the state of awake and asleep. Or they sit in a jar, collecting dust, taking up space knowing they will never be moved or dusted. I allow the insecurity that is me to stop my thoughts, my words.

I need to learn to voice my fears. My inhibitions. Those things that just dont seem right. And to do so without arguing. Between freshman year and now I have become an emotional human. One that speaks, lives, and breathes emotion. I cannot share my thoughts and fears and concerns like an automated report. I feel. Deeply. And because of that I struggle with my words. With sharing. With opening up. But I am finally seeing this isnt beneficial. This is only creating divides. Opening wounds instead of building bridges. I need to learn to voice the pain and frustrations to get there.