Musing Moment 114: Inching Closer

I don’t do well on the days where I go back to sleep after I wake up, and though I know how to fix this, I sort of don’t.

Today is my first day off of four. I have my race on Saturday so I requested Friday off. Thursday, today, is a normal off say and so is Sunday. It’s like a mini-vacation.

Today is also a day where I am truly alone. Papa Ox has a field project he needed to go out for. Mama Ox and Ox are both at work. I don’t have training until 2:30 this afternoon. I have no other obligations unless I’m alive enough to go to the dojo after training for kickboxing, krav, and jitz, in that order.

When I go back to bed after Ox leaves on my days off it’s hard to not feel apathetic. It’s better on the days that I have training earlier in the day. I have a reason to get up. To shower. To eat. I have things I need to do and so there’s a level of motivation I guess that gets me up and moving.

Today I didn’t have that.

I went back to sleep. I woke up again. I had a cup of coffee for the first time in weeks. I had part of my breakfast but not all of it because I wasn’t super hungry.

I pretty much passed out right when I got home yesterday. I’m not nearly as sore, but I’ve also slept for somewhere in the ballpark of 16 hours. Small wonder I’m not really all that hungry. I haven’t done much.

I still really don’t have much motivation for anything. I “could” clean my computer desk, but I really don’t want to. There are clothes that “could” be put away, but again, I’m not really feeling it.

I made myself eat lunch since my trainer would give me shit later today for not eating. Saving myself from future heartache I guess; maybe that’s a mild form of self-preservation. I feel like he’s going to push me pretty hard today since I did so well on Tuesday. We did sled work at the end. My chest hasn’t been that sore in ages. I haven’t had to dig that deep on the emotional side in a while either.

I feel like the times where I have to fight against my grief and the darkness are the times that really matter. When I pushed the sled down the gym the first time I knew I was going to struggle more emotionally than physically. When my trainer turned the sled around and said I only had to do it three more times I wanted to cry.

My Brain: You say it’s “only” three more times. But that’s THREE MORE TIMES. THREE. I’m already fucking burnt. I can’t do three. No. It’s not that I can’t. It’s that I don’t want to do three. What’s the point? Why do three, or two, or even one? What’s the point in doing any of this when mom’s dead? You know, it’s so easy for you to say it’s “only” three. It’s “only” something. It’s so fucking easy for the rest of the world to just keep going like everything is easy and “only” three when just waking up is sometimes the hardest thing to do and then not only do I have to do that, but then I have to get out of bed. And then I have to shower. And then I have to do all of this other bullshit and interact with all these other people and pretend that living isn’t hard and doesn’t feel heavy and hollow and pointless. It’s already “only” fucking hard, ok? I don’t need to do your three. I don’t NEED to do anything because I’ve already done more than you can even imagine just by standing here. I don’t have to prove to you I’m strong. I’m already strong. Being here, standing here, makes me strong. So you know what? Fuck you, Life. No. Seriously. Fuck you and you know what? I’ll do three more just to prove to you that you can’t win. I won’t let you win. I WILL NEVER LET YOU WIN.

The last three pushes were some of the hardest pushes I’ve ever done, more because I was trying to breathe and control the urge to break down into rage-filled tears, though my body was totally ok with not having to push the sled anymore once I was done.

There’s a part of me who likes being pushed to that point. My mental and emotional breaking point I guess. It makes me confront my grief and the harder emotions that lurk in the dark, dusty corners of my mind that get ignored during everyday life.

I had a thought Tuesday as I sat outside recovering from my training.

I wonder if mom hurts, too.

I talk about my wound and what it feels like for her to be dead. I wonder if she hurts from us being apart, too. I wonder if being dead is hard for her because she can’t be here. I wonder if she has her own wound in her chest where she aches for one more phone call. One more hug. One more, “It’s ok”.

I wonder if I’ve been selfish and small and inconsiderate of the other side of the situation. Maybe it sucks just as bad for her as it does for me. Maybe worse since she lost so much more. She lost Jon and Jason and Jace and Lio and her coworkers and her brothers.

I only lost mom. Mom lost everything.

There’s a sick part of my brain that feels a little bit better thinking that mom and I are struggling together. I’m not alone in my hurt. I’m not alone. It sucks for both of us and we’re doing the best we can with what the Universe will let us have.

It sucks that I have to go for now so I can actually shower and get to the gym on time for training where I’ll have to push again when I don’t want to. I don’t know why I do this. I don’t know what I want. Or maybe it’s that I keep forgetting or losing sight of what I want and so it’s easier to say I don’t know what I want rather than to look for it or remember.

I miss you, mom. I miss you so much. I’m going to go to training and I’m going to run my race and I know I’m doing these things for me, but I’m also doing them for you. That’s why I’m able to do three more. Because I tell myself it’s for you. That’s why I get out of bed sometimes. That’s why I eat. Because I told you I would. Sometimes the only reason I’m able to do things is because I say they’re for you and I don’t want to let you down.

Today isn’t a hard day, but I guess with finding the dojo and everything else that I’ve been doing recently, I’m inching closer to… I don’t know what. Closer to something, though. The emotions are there, near the surface. They’re not the raging, chaotic, swirling beast they were in the beginning. They’re calmer now, more settled. They don’t overwhelm me in the same way anymore even though they’re no less powerful.

I don’t understand that foreign aspect of myself any more than I did before I started writing this, mom, but maybe I’m on the right path to understanding it.

I love you. Thanks for being there for me. We’ll get through it together.

Daily Post 097: My New Dojo

I’m tired. I’m sore. I think I’m fighting off a dehydration headache.

And I’m completely ok with all of it because today was pretty awesome.

I woke up for work like normal. Each morning starts off with me groggily opening up a can of Cotten Candy Bang because that stuff is addictive and I neither need nor want intervention. I showered. I had breakfast, which I don’t know if breakfast is what you can call food at 3 am when you still eat at 7 am… but that’s a tangent for another time.

I got dressed. I had my morning cigarette with Ox. I drove to work. I started setting up the clinic a little early since I was there a little early.

I got a phone call from my boss saying she would be late.

And you know… I think I would have been more not ok with that fact if it hadn’t been for my bike ride on Sunday.

This morning though, I was fine with it. I told her it was cool. I was already setting up. I would see her when she got there. I knew the day might be a little rougher, but I was ok with it. She’s human. We all make mistakes. It wasn’t intentional and we would do our best and we would survive and everything would be ok in the end.

She got to work. We got everyone on the machines at their normal times. It was a smooth day; at least as smooth as it can be in dialysis.

I got to talk to several of my patients about my upcoming race. I got to tell them about my weekend ride. I got to explain that I was going to the dojo after work, which led to conversations about my previous experiences and my “history” as far as the evolution of my combat training, which I don’t know if that’s what it could or should be called but that’s what I’m going with.

It was a decent day. We closed the clinic down pretty quick. They have someone to cover for me on Friday so I don’t have to go in, and it’s a tech who’s worked in the clinic before so I don’t have to worry about the clinic burning down to ashes as much as I was. I’m still waiting for my Concur report to be approved. I still haven’t called to figure out what’s going on with my paycheck. I also still need to finish yet another training course before the end of the month.

Mr. Non-Compliance showed up today for the first time in about a month. It was good to see him again. I got to tell him I had been worried about him and that I was glad he was there. I got to cannulate his fistula for the first time. I might be able to get my NFACT training completed since it is a new fistula and then I’ll be an “expert cannulator” which doesn’t give me a pay increase, but it will look good on my yearly review. I’m accomplishing a lot of things, work-wise, and that’s a good feeling.

Another patient brought a gift bag full of goodies for me and my FA long with a remarkably touching card expressing how grateful she is for everything we do for her. There are a lot of moments that make my job worth it. The “Thank you, ladies,” as my patients leave for the day, able to enjoy whatever it is they’re about to do because they were able to get their treatment. The “Good mornings,” and the stories about how their weekends were. The smiles. The jokes and bantering.

This is the first time I have received a card from one of my patients. It makes all of the crazy days and the stress and the sweat and the walking six miles inside the same room worth it.

After work, I drove home and showered super fast since I only had about 20 minutes to get to the dojo for class. As I sort of mentioned before, I sweat when I’m at work and there’s no way to not do that. I didn’t want to change into my gear for the dojo while still having the grimy feeling from my workday covering me.

Maybe it’s a bit of a ritual in some regards or maybe I’m just really weird… but… I want to start off clean. The gym, the dojo, working on the addition… it doesn’t matter that I’m going to get gross and sweaty. I want to start fresh because it’s a start and in my head there’s some sort of honor tied into it. You don’t show up to important things icky. Training is important to me. I want to be clean when I walk through the doors. I want to be clean when I bow onto the mat for the beginning of class. It didn’t help that this would be my first impression for everyone I met. I wasn’t going to go looking raggedy from work.

Kickboxing was at 5:45. Jiujitsu was at 6:45. Krava Maga was at 7:45.

I only stayed for kickboxing and jiujitsu.

It was pretty awesome. The dojo is smaller, both space wise and population wise, then what I’m used to from Orlando. It still felt homey and welcoming. There was only one other guy with me for kickboxing so it was pretty personalized work.

The instructor is a chick who gave me pretty good advice for my kicks. She was complimentary on my work. It was a moderately intense class and I think most of my soreness comes from that first hour.

I didn’t know if I was going to stay for jiujitsu. I was already tired, but I was there, on the mat. I wasn’t exhausted or overly hungry so there was really no reason for me to not stay, but I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.

The instructor for kickboxing introduced me to the instructor for jiujitsu. It seemed silly to go after that. Jiujitsu is the thing I’ve been missing most. This was my chance to see if the dojo would really be what I’m looking for. The instructors themselves even said that I could stay for as long as I wanted and if I needed to leave it was ok. They were glad to have me.

So I stayed.

We practiced getting out of standing headlocks.

It was pretty awesome. I was paired with two girls who were half of my weight which sort of sucked. I felt like I could break them if I hugged them too tight, let alone have them in a headlock bracing my weight on their back.

When the instructor worked with me one on one it was better because I was able to do the moves with more intention, more force, more strength. He was a better match for me, size-wise, as an opponent, and he didn’t treat me like a delicate flower. He pointed out where I was leaving myself open for counter moves. I think he was surprised at how quickly I picked things up and by the types of questions I asked.

It was a good practice even though we didn’t get to sparring. He said we would make up for it during Thursday’s class so, of course, I really want to make it to Thursday’s class. XD

I didn’t stay for Krav Maga, more because I was hungry and out of water than because I was too tired to, though with having training at 10 am tomorrow, I think leaving was the smart option.

I had already met a lot of new people in a new environment after working a full day at the clinic on very little sleep since sexy time happened last night. No regrets.

It was a good day and I’m glad for all of the moments that happened. I’m taking advantage of the dojo’s offer for a free week at the moment. I would like to check out the other location just to see what it’s like. The north location offers more classes but since it’s further away I don’t think it will be my main dojo.

I have information about the membership. It would be hard to swing it while still paying extra on all of my bills. I could volunteer to work on Saturdays to help maintain / cover the added expense… At least I would know what I’m working for so it would be worth it.

I haven’t gotten that far, but I’m fairly certain that I will be becoming a member of this dojo.

I drove home and showered after my classes, so yes, I’ve showered three times today. I ate. I’m still working on trying to drink more water to fend off the headache.

I’m looking forward to being able to tell my trainer that I got two runs in and a bike ride and two hours at the dojo. I think it will make him happy to hear that I’m going out and doing more on my own and that I’ve found something that I like and that I finally got my bike rack.

I know I’m pleased and content and I guess that’s really the important aspect of it.

I guess that means I have some soul searching to do and some decisions to make in the near future, but for now, I’m going to finish my water and go to bed. If I wake up overly sore tomorrow I plan to go to the gym here in Hickman to do some yoga to loosen up before my session in Beatrice. I also plan to explain if I’m in any sort of pain so my trainer can adjust our session as he sees fit.

I’m less worried about my weigh in on Thursday. I don’t care about the numbers anymore. I think I’ve found my new dojo. Numbers can’t take away the level of ok-ness that adds to my life.

I’m going to skip out on the SCA combat practice tomorrow to try to get to more of the classes at the dojo while they’re free. I want to feel like I belong there and the more I go the more I’ll feel that way.

I’m looking forward to all of it. I’m glad I have this in my life again.

Musing Moments 113: Reflecting On My Ride

I thought I would be able to just log into Final Fantasy and play my character, but with not having logged in for so long I really should have expected to have to download content first… Lame. :/

So that’s what I’m currently doing while I take a moment to type and reflect on the day.

I was able to go for my bike ride. It was… awesome, yet at the same time not. I went at noon, which means it was super warm and sunny. I loved it, yet at the same time, I know it most likely wasn’t the smartest option for me with having not done a whole lot outside since I’ve moved here.

I biked just under 11 miles; from the trailhead at Saltillo to Hickman Road. I had been hoping to get all the way to Princeton, but I also knew shortly after Roca Road that I wouldn’t be making it that far. At least not there AND back and I most definitely had to be able to make it back because there was no way in hell I was going to call someone and admit defeat.

I was getting down on myself for not being able to make it to Princeton by the time I made it to the overpass. I took a break and a moment to reflect on how I felt I was doing. While I recovered I drank one of my bottles of water and had a Nature Valley bar.

Right Brain: I’ve earned these carbs! Omnomnomnom. :E

When I got back on the bike to head back the way I had come, I was pretty surprised by how much easier it felt. It couldn’t have all been mental. It had to have been more than the break I took and the realization that I was headed home. I seriously think for most of the section from Roca Road to Hickman Road that the trail is at a slight incline because going back was so much easier than going south.

As I was heading back I passed by a couple who were taking their wedding photos. The wife looked amazing in her dress and it made me smile to see their reaction when I said congratulations as I passed.

It was a good ride. I enjoyed being out in the warmth and I liked how away from society it felt. I loved being surrounded by the trees and crossing all of the bridges over the streams.

I’m proud of my ride. Yet at the same time… I don’t know. I didn’t make it to where I wanted to go. My legs were more sore than I had been hoping they would be. I had wanted to do a 20-mile ride, not just a “close to 11” mile ride. I had wanted to do more, but wouldn’t it be more positive to focus on the fact that I went at all, rather than bashing myself for having limits and airing on the side of caution rather than pushing myself too far too fast? Wouldn’t it be better to focus on the positive rather than the self-imposed negative? Can we try to do that, Brain?

What were the positives?

Nature. Sun. Music. The kind stranger who stopped while I was taking a break to make sure I didn’t need help. The relative solitude of my ride. The strangers who waved as we passed each other; the unspoken comradery between humans as you acknowledge the other’s existence. The fact that I went. The fact that my bike didn’t fall off my car on the way to or from the trail because I might have been mildly freaking out over that happening. Seeing the happy couple.

See, Brain. Positive shit. More good things happened than not good things so chill with the “It wasn’t a good ride” thoughts.

I’m glad I went. I’m glad I know what the trail feels like going out and coming back. I’m glad that I did it rather than not. I feel like from this point forward I’ll be able to do better each time. Now that it’s not new, I’ll be more ok with pushing myself harder and further.

Currently, I’m not overly sore from the ride though I’m still waiting to see how I feel when I wake up tomorrow. I’m still under my carb count even with going to SubWay for lunch after I got back.

The bike rack worked amazingly well and I’m looking forward to trying to make my bike ride a weekly event. I know during winter that most likely won’t be able to happen, so I want to do it as much as I can now. Not this weekend since I have my race and will most likely be dead on Sunday.

I’m nervous about my weigh in at the gym on Thursday. I feel like I am doing a lot more recently. I did my runs on Thursday and Saturday. I did the bike ride today. I’m going to the dojo on Monday…

I’m worried the numbers are still going to be lame. And there’s a part of me who doesn’t understand why that bothers me when I don’t really have a goal in mind to begin with. If I’m not actively striving for something that can be quantified then how can I feel frustrated or saddened when I don’t achieve that quantity?

I don’t have an answer for that and I don’t really think I want to delve too far into it at the moment, to be honest.

I’ve finished all of my cooking for today. I want to make Ox’s lunch before I go to sleep, and it would be nice to start my laundry so it can be dry for tomorrow. I want to pack my gym bag so I can drive straight to the dojo if need be. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to stop at home first, but just in case, I want to have it ready to go and with me.

I think the place I need to start in regards to myself is addressing my health goals. I think once I experience the dojo it will be easier to clarify those things to myself, so I don’t think a whole lot can or should be done right now.

I know one of my goals is to bike all the way to Beatrice. I want to set that goal for the end of summer but I don’t know how realistic that is since I’m not honestly sure how far that would be on the trail. I know by car it’s roughly 30 miles, so I would imagine it would be in that ballpark for the bike.

If I’m already biking close to 11 miles then I’m already 1/3 of the way there. I don’t think biking there and back is a good goal to set, but then I’m not sure. I think I would rather talk to my trainer about that and see what he feels would be realistic. 60 miles seems like a lot. At that point, I would be able to pretty much bike the whole trail all the way to Kansas, which that goal is on my radar. Along with eventually doing a century ride at least once, just to be able to say I can and that I did.

Achievement Unlocked: Spending way too much time on your bike.

That’s along the lines of being able to do 20 pullups… I’m still working on doing one, ok Brain? Can we not take things slow and just get to step one before you plan out the next four billion moves? No? Oh… well… You suck. Thanks.

Anywho. I’m pretty sure the patch is done.

Today was a good day. My ride was a good ride. I’m not as worried about work. I’m not as stressed as I was. And you know what? After writing… All of my ride was a good ride, so screw you, Brain. I did better than I did yesterday. I did better than I’ve done in five months.

I didn’t let the Universe, or you, stop me.

I made this happen. Finally. And I have the pics to prove it. So now I’m off to run around in circles mining lightening crystals so I can level my weaving rather than actually killing monsters or progressing through the game because who needs storyline when you can make things?

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Daily Post 096: Bikes and Races

I slept like crap last night. I woke up with a headache and feeling like today would suck. Luckily things seem to have turned around. I took migraine pills, so the headache seems to have gone away and the tiredness has burned away the longer I’ve been awake and moving around.

I’ve already talked to Jon for about an hour where I got to bitch about some of the BS going on at work. That was nice. After I got off the phone I realized it was a pretty one-sided conversation, but as Ox pointed out when I started worrying about that fact, Jon calls me all the time to vent, sometimes multiple times a day, so I “shouldn’t” feel bad. I also fully believe that if Jon didn’t want to chat or listen to me, he would say something to that effect.

It was nice to get some of that stuff off my chest and to have someone listen. There isn’t really anything that needs to be fixed, I just want to know that I’m heard and that the mild frustration of day to day existence is understandable.

Yesterday was an extremely nice day even though in the beginning it wasn’t.

Ox and I had made plans Friday evening to work on the addition the following morning. Our plans ended up changing though due to his parents. They want to buy different insulation for the ceiling, so instead of working on the addition, we decided to work on the back porch. That was the game plan as of Friday night, after what felt like hours of back-and-forth. I’m not good with tentative, nebulous stuff. So when something was finally decided, that was sort of my stack in the ground.

Right Brain: Ok. It’s going to be different. But that’s ok. We have a game plan. We’ll be arlight as along as we stick to the game plan.

So Saturday morning, when his parents wanted to sit down again and talk more, I wasn’t ok.

Right Brain: Stop fucking with my game plan! /rage

I sat and brushed all three cats while things continued with the back-and-forth, eating away into the morning as it got hotter and hotter outside.

Inside my head, it turned to, “All of this talking is just that. Talk. Not action. Nothing is going to get decided or accomplished today. It’s just going to be more theory and things are going to stay as they are and no progress is going to be made and this is why projects never get finished because it’s all talk and no actual action to follow through.”

So by noon-ish, when still nothing had been accomplished I was more not ok than when we had first sat down to talk.

Ox and I had plans to go into town for lunch and to run errands, but I didn’t want to do any of the “fun” stuff when no work had been accomplished on the one of two days where things could actually get accomplished.

It’s hard to explain how the situation played out without being there to see all of the non-verbal aspects of the interactions, but essentially he knew I wasn’t ok. I knew he wasn’t ok. He went to the restroom. I went to the room and curled up in bed to sulk in my feelings of frustration and uselessness because none of the projects that need to be worked on are things I can do on my own. I stayed stuck inside of my head for a while, waiting for him to come back so we could go into town, which I didn’t want to do and was worried about because I knew I wouldn’t be able to get out of my funk to just enjoy our time out together.

When he eventually did come back into the room he was hot and sweaty, so I knew he had been working on something without me. We went outside to have a cigarette, which yes, I’m still smoking, and he asked what was wrong because something was very clearly still wrong with me.

He had been working on the back porch without me. Good to know because otherwise, it would have been concerning to have been in the restroom for that long. But still not ok because I had wanted to help. I don’t want it to be “Hey, go do all of this work. K. Thanks. Bye.”

I want it to be us working on something, spending time together. I want to be part of it. I don’t want it to be an obligation for him to work on one of his few days off while I relax and do nothing. I like working. I like being helpful. I like being a part of the process, the progress. It would be us making memories together so once it’s done we can remember something that we did together. Something we can look back on and smile about a silly joke that was made or the frustrations we overcame or any number of seemingly small things that you don’t realize are important until you reflect back on them and realize it really was actually worth it and made life a little more meaningful.

Sort of like those small moments where you have a cup of coffee with someone. You don’t realize how much it warmed your soul until you’re sitting one day, remembering that time and it makes you smile.

I want things like that with him. I want to feel like I’m part of the house and that I belong here, but it’s hard to feel like that when I’m kept in a box on the side, not allowed to do anything, or invest in anything, while everyone else goes around and gets stuff done. That’s not how I want it to be. I don’t want to be a nagging force harping about stuff and having other people do the work.

That’s how I felt while we sat outside. I nagged and sulked and so he went outside and did something without me just so I could be “happy” only it didn’t make me happy. It made me frustrated because I was denied my memories and warm moments.

He said I wouldn’t have liked helping with what he did. I guess there were a lot of bugs and spiders when he moved the stuff that was piled on the porch. I can’t deny that I would have been a total wuss when it comes to the spiders and I fully accept any shit anyone gives me for that. Spiders are gross and we’re all allowed to have our “one thing”. Spiders are mine, so suck it.

I still felt like crap for not having been there and we talked about it as we drove into town.

A lot of progress was made with the back porch and it’s pretty awesome to see that much space. It just would have been nice to feel like I had done something other than nothing. Maybe this could be a learning moment for me. Instead of getting caught up inside my head, maybe I should have communicated more. Maybe a lot of the icky feelings could have been avoided if I had expressed why it was important to me to work with him beforehand rather than afterward.

I don’t know.

I do know that we’re still ok.

We went to a Greek restaurant for lunch. It was amazing. I had a gyro and totally didn’t feel guilty for eating the pita bread because it was fantastic. I also didn’t eat anything else the rest of the day until around 11 pm that night because there was sooooo much food. My trainer is going to be so frustrated with me for skipping my snacks. #worthIt

After lunch, we went to a bike shop where I finally, FINALLY, got my bike rack. Hooray. The sales associate was extremely helpful. He looked up the different types of racks that would work with my car, explaining the advantages and disadvantages to each along with the prices. Once I had settled on one, which they had in stock, he even helped Ox and I get it attached to my car so we didn’t have to worry about getting home and not being able to figure it out.

I was extremely pleased with the experience and will most likely continue to go to that store as I need work done on the bike, which will hopefully happen now that I can use the bike rather than letting it collect dust like it has been.

I also bought a tire patch kit and a portable tire pump while we were at the shop since Ox wanted me to. It’s sort of sweet how he doesn’t want me to get stranded on my bike in the middle of nowhere.

We stopped at a Sally’s as well so I could pick up hair dye. I like the purple in my hair but it’s not as dark as I would like for it to be. It’s more of a bright purple and I want something closer to a deep violet. So I picked up some blue dye to mix with the purple to hopefully give it a darker hue. It’s what I used to do with Manic Panic. We’ll see if the results turn out the same with this new brand.

From there we went to Dick’s Sporting Goods. I wanted to see about getting a new top for my race Saturday. Less than a week until that happens. Oh god. >.<;

It’s something I’ve thought about since signing up for the race. I want to be able to see my tattoos while I run. With the current compression gear that I have, I can’t. The shirts cover my biceps, which isn’t a bad thing when you’re rolling around on the mats during a no-gi practice. But they aren’t what I want when I’m on the bike or running. I know this is pretty much a trivial issue, but I also know I would mentally feel better if I could find something that fit what I wanted.

The compression gear I wear is stuff I find in the guy section, so that’s where I looked first. They had a sleeveless style, but it wasn’t really what I wanted. I can never find stuff in the girl section so I thought I would be doomed to dissatisfaction. When I stepped out of the changing room, rejected options in hand, Ox was there were two new choices that he had found while he waited.

I didn’t like one of them, but the second option actually turned out to be exactly what I was looking for. And I’m not just saying that because he picked it out. The only downside to the top is that it has a mesh back. I like being covered, so all of the tops I get are solid, but if that’s the only issue with the top then I think it’s as close to perfect as it can be.

I like the thought that even though I’ll be running the race alone, in a way Ox will still be with me. I’ll be wearing “his” shirt. Maybe that’s overly sentimental or INFJy of me, but I like it. It makes that soft, squishy, girly part of my brain happy.

We stopped at Best Buy so he could pick up a new game to play. From there we went grocery shopping before heading home. I stayed within my budget for food so that’s nice. I also found a glass bottle that I really like for mixing my protein shakes in. I haven’t tried it out yet, but in theory, it meets all of my requirements. Today will be the test day since I was still too full from lunch for a shake when we got home.

I spent the remainder of the evening in the kitchen prepping food and doing some of the cooking.

The cauliflower mash I’ve been making turned out pretty awesome this time ’round. I ended up with way more than I need for the week but according to the Internet, it can be frozen, so that’s what I did. I should have enough for my meals next week, which is a nice feeling.

I tried a homemade marinara sauce. That wasn’t exactly a failure, but I can see where I want to try to improve it for next time. The sauce I made last night is another thing which can be frozen, so I plan to use it next week, rather than this week, so attempt number 2 won’t happen for a little bit.

A while ago I found a dry rub mix for venison which is AMAZING. I’ve used it on chicken a few times since then and it goes great on steak, too. Since the venison roast was so good I wanted to see if a beef roast would be similar. So that’s currently what’s in the oven baking. I’ll know in a few hours how that experiment turned out.

So, lots of things are getting figured out food wise.

Oh. Saturday I also increased my run time. That was successful. I stretched pretty well after my run so I’m glad to report minimal soreness.

I got a call back from the dojo. The owner seems extremely nice. We had a fairly lengthy conversation about the different classes. He explained the Krav Maga class to me and their BJJ / MMA stuff. He won’t be at the dojo on Monday, but he said he would let his instructors know I would be coming in so they can get me set up with a free trial week. I’m completely, totally stoked.

There’s still an issue with my paycheck. Surprise surprise, right? I got all of my bills paid along with all of my extra “me” stuff, so I’ll figure that out on Monday. I also submitted the Concur report, so I should be getting that money back in the next few days. Jon will be buying his plane ticket for the trip either Tuesday or Wednesday, so while I have the funds to do that, I’m going to wait to see what he gets before making my own plans.

It’s only 10 am even though it feels later. That might be because I’ve already spent so long talking to Jon. I don’t think there’s much planned today, which I actually feel ok with.

For once, I don’t want to really “do” anything.

I want to go for my bike ride. I want to dye my hair. I want to finish cooking my meals because it makes me feel good about myself to take care of my self. I want to cross stitch more because I’ve actually stitched for the past two days and it hasn’t been painful to hold the fabric in my hands. I want to not worry about who’s covering my shift Friday because that’s not my problem.

Today, I simply want to just be. So that’s what I’m doing to do. I’m just going to be.

Daily Post 095: New Dojo, New Shoes

I’ve been doing better. Writing to mom helped.

I survived the rest of the 3rd. I went to training. I don’t feel I did as well as I could have, but with feeling as emotionally heavy as I did, I think I did alright. I didn’t call out of training so that alone means it’s a win, right? Going was better than not going at all.

My trainer said several times during that session that I was doing well. He isn’t one to compliment unless it’s genuine. He was having me do a lot of new stuff, including new box jump work which was actually pretty fun.

I kept all of my promises to mom that day. I showered. I had at least one meal. And I didn’t stay in bed all day. Each day I do those three things is… I don’t know if “good” is the right word, but they’re… something. I didn’t let her down. I didn’t let myself down. It was a shitty, heavy, hard day, but I did those three things so no matter what, I did alright.

The fourth wasn’t a bad day. I went to work. I got to see my patients. I got to explain that even though it was the fourth I was doing better than Monday. I told one of them about my letter to mom where I got to say good morning to her. She said she had been praying for me and though I’m not Christian, her words and kindness mean a lot to me.

I actually looked into more dojos in the area on Tuesday. I’ve been feeling… weird after work. I know weird isn’t really the word I want to use but I also don’t know how to explain the sensations. There doesn’t seem to be a word that really works or encompasses everything that I feel.

It’s a mix of angst and unsettledness. I want to DO something but I don’t know what to do. I feel frustrated because there’s this feeling of not being able to do anything which makes me feel trapped or confined within my skin. I don’t want to cross stitch. I don’t want to game. I don’t want to be inside curled up in bed though that’s what I usually end up doing.

I also don’t want to be very far away from Ox when I’m home. Being near him is comforting and helps the sandpapery, confined feelings.

I’ve really wanted to spar recently. In my head, that’s what feels like would help with whatever it is that I’m feeling. I want to fight and push against someone else. I want to struggle and expel all of this energy even though I know I’m already tired from work. I’m tired but not tired enough I guess.

I’ve found a dojo where they offer taekwondo, karate, jiujitsu, krav maga, MMA, kickboxing, and on certain Saturdays, yoga.

It seems like what I’m looking for. Their classes are late enough for me to get to even on the worst days I work. I’m extremely interested in attending a krav maga class.

I tried calling on Tuesday but I never got a call back. I figured I wouldn’t with it being so close to the holiday. Lincoln does a firework show on the third anyway. I didn’t get a call back on the fourth, which I expected as well.

That left me to deal with the sandpapery feelings with no release again on the fourth. I didn’t want to be outside because everyone was shooting off fireworks but I didn’t want to sit inside doing nothing either. So frustrating.

I tried working on stuff around the house but that didn’t help. I eventually gave up and crawled into bed next to Ox as he gamed and fell asleep.

I need a project. Something I’m in control of. Something that I can make progress on. Working on stuff is relaxing to me. Being constructive. Accomplishing things… It makes me feel good about myself.

I don’t think I really have anything like that at the moment which might be why I feel so tangled right now.

Anyway, I went to training today and I did much better than the last two times. I wasn’t overly sore like I was last Thursday and I wasn’t as emotionally raw as I was on Tuesday. I felt ready for today.

I did well. I’m doing more reps at a higher weight than when I started. Since Thursdays are my “test” days, I also weighed in. I’m down .3 in fat and up .3 in muscle.

I’ve been under 2000 calories for the past week. I can’t lie, I was disappointed in my numbers. I thought there would be more of a change than that. It bothered me to the point that I actually talked to my trainer about it before I left.

He said sometimes it takes the body a little bit to catch up with changes. He was pleased that my numbers are still moving in the right direction. He’s pleased with my calorie intake and the overall nutrition that I’m getting.

Me: So is this one of those moments where I should stay the course and not get discouraged?

He said yes, so that’s where I’m at with that. So far my Evil Voice hasn’t said much though I can feel it lurking at the edges of my mind, waiting for a chance to exploit a weakness like my tiredness or grief.

I drove home and plucked away at chores for a while. I unloaded, loaded, and ran the dishwasher. I put the clean clothes away while doing another two loads; one for Ox and another of my own stuff. I cleaned and organized some of the kitchen drawers since we finally got the insides of them painted with the polyurethane this past weekend.

I tried calling the dojo again to see about their classes and got a new message saying that they would be closed for the holiday week and would resume classes on Monday, the 9th.

(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

All I want to do is beat people up. Is that so much to ask of? ;-;

Ok. All joking aside. I don’t want to “beat people up”. I want to push myself. I want to learn new things. I want that level of peace again. I don’t know what it is about combat that does it for me. Maybe it’s because it tears down everything meanless and leaves you bear to yourself. You can’t hide when you’re on the mat. You can’t be lost in thought. You have to be fully present and in tune with yourself. You have to calculate your limits. You have to focus on your breathing. You have to be aware of when and how you shift your weight. You have to be aware of not only your force but the force and energy from your opponent.

I miss it. I want it back. And I guess I can’t have it until Monday.

That’s ok though. While I was on the phone bitching to Jon about how not fair it was, because yes, it’s totally unfair of the Universe to finally reveal what may very well become my new dojo to me, only to have me wait a week before actually being able to go… my new Vibrams where delivered.

Fine, Universe. If I can’t spar to the point of exhaustion and get arm-barred by black belts then I’ll go for a run instead.

┬─┬ノ( º _ ºノ)

It was actually probably my best run so far. I ran at a faster pace for all of my run intervals and recovered completely during my rest intervals. I made it to the end of my run without feeling dead or without really any type of “I pushed too hard” type of pain. The new shoes felt a little odd at first, but I think they just need a few runs to get broken in. I like them better than the ones I currently have which is good since I plan to run in the new ones on the 14th.

After running I rowed for a bit to get some arm and back work in. This is after already doing personal training. Don’t mind me while I feel like a mild badass at the moment. I stretched pretty well afterward since that may be one of the reasons I was so sore last Tuesday.

Ox and I met in town for dinner. While I was waiting for him to get off work I canceled the YMCA membership. I’ll still be able to work with my trainer since that’s a different fee that’s already been paid, but now I can feel less lame for spending money on something I wasn’t really using.

We’re currently back home winding down for the evening. I might try to wake up early to run again. 2 am is pretty early though… so I don’t know. We’ll see how rested I feel. If I wake up before my alarm goes off like I have been doing lately, then maybe.

I guess that’s about it.

I still need to get in touch with myself, but I think reaching out to mom was a good step in that direction.

I want to get the bike rack this weekend along with my plane ticket to visit my brothers. I want to get a hotel room for the night before my race so I don’t have to drive two hours the day of to get there only to turn around and drive two hours back. I want to look into the dojo, too, because I really, truly believe I need something like that back in my life.

It feels like I’ve been crying a lot recently but maybe I needed that, too. I feel better for it. Cleaner. Clearer. I feel closer to Ox for the conversations we’ve had and the times he’s held me.

I’m glad tomorrow is Friday and that I have another two days off in a row after it. I’m glad that the days at work have been going smoothly for the most part. Each day still has its own thing which “doesn’t go right” but overall they have been alright days.

We’ll see how tomorrow goes. For now, I think I’m actually going to go cross stitch because I do have a new pattern I want to work on, but I can’t start it until I finish my current one. Lame. >.<;

Daily Post 094: Cleaning Up

Today is Saturday; the first day of two that I have off. After the few weeks of working overtime that I had, I have a new appreciation for having so much time off in a row.

The morning has been quiet so far. I’ve already loaded up the dishwasher. I’m waiting to run it until Ox is done installing the water filter for the sink.

We sat last night as a family and talked about one of the projects going on with the kitchen. I’m looking forward to starting it today. I’m looking forward to being another part in something that makes this place a little more my own.

Mama Ox even mentioned changing the way some of the things in the kitchen are organized so it’s easier for me to get to my containers. I like the change she recommended. I think it will make me feel like I have more of my own spot rather than eeking out space around everything else. I would have my own shelf with only my things on it rather than crowding in on the Raman noodles.

I’m hoping to get the interior of the kitchen drawers painted today since that’s been on the list of things to do since I moved up here, basically. Since the project for the rolling cabinet will have us going into Lincoln, I also want to be ahead of the ball and already have my grocery list mapped out so I can do the grocery shopping while we’re in town.

It would be nice to clean up a bit, too. The kids’ clothes need to be put away. Vacuuming the rug in the bedroom would be nice. Putting my own clothes away would mean there’s a place for the dirty clothes to go since the laundry basket would be empty.

There’s a lot of little, easy to accomplish things that I could do today that would help me feel better about my environment; not that I’m feeling bad about it. It’s weird… Cleaning makes me feel better. I like making things pretty and organized.

Ox and I are doing well. We talked about my last post since he reads them. I don’t know what else to say about that topic. I like that I’m able to write and that, for the most part, I still feel safe while I do it. The blank page is my canvas for figuring out myself. It sucks when it feels like I can’t do that; when it feels like it’s been taken away from me because of the fear of disapproval or future conflict.

That hasn’t been the case. though. My writing doesn’t break us or cause fights and I think that goes a long way into alleviating those fears. I still have this avenue. I still have this outlet. I still have this corner of the Internet and I’m grateful for being allowed to keep it.

Yesterday was a good day at work. I was tired, so the two incidents that happened hurt more than they should have. Like… contemplating quitting and giving up.

Rage-filled, self-righteous Right Brain: I’m sorry I did something wrong but why does that make it feel like I don’t do ANYTHING right? Do none of the other fifty tasks that I’ve already done, on my own, because you were late, matter at all? Do all of my “rights” count for nothing just because of this one wrong?

After stepping off the floor and having some food I was better able to deal with the emotional side of things. I had the time and space to recognize why I was reacting the way I was. Everything was fine I just needed to breathe and let it go rather than letting it loop inside of my head or eat away at me like acid.

Logical Left Brain: Ok… so you messed up. You know You messed up. Learn from it and move on. It was just a piece of paper. An important piece of paper, sure… but it’s not like you infiltrated your favorite patient. You already filled out a new sheet. The issue is taken care of. Try not to do it again. And try to have a better day. *hugs*

I stayed after work to finish my compliance training. I also called People Services and asked about my paycheck. They weren’t sure why I was given a retention bonus only to have it removed from my check. The assistant I spoke with put in a request to have my check looked at. She thinks maybe it was a mistaken entry but she wanted to get clarification because there weren’t notes anywhere about what had happened.

She did tell me that my backpay for March 14th hasn’t happened yet. That’s nice to know. I will be addressing that issue next week. That’s what I thought the bonus was for. I thought it was my backpay, which is why I was confused about it being removed and leaving me short $300.

I also plan to finish my Concur report so I can be reimbursed for all of the travel I had to do while I was working overtime during June. That will be close to another $500 back. Plus the 15 hours of overtime I was short…

Yeah… This paycheck was supposed to have been pretty freaking amazing, so I was pretty not ok when it wasn’t. I was still able to cover everything I needed / wanted to. But I wasn’t able to make the progress I was hoping to.

I got my hair dyed on Tuesday this week so I’m back to being purple. The roots had grown so far out that you couldn’t tell my hair was dyed anymore. I feel more like me. I also got about an inch cut off the tips so the ends aren’t icky anymore. : D

I also went ahead and ordered my new set of Vibrams for my race on the 14th. According to the tracking information they’re already in Omaha. The delivery date is set for Thursday, but I’m really hoping they come in sooner than that.

I’ve been wanting a bike rack, but alas, I haven’t felt like I’ve been able to get one. Or rather, I’ve been prioritizing other things ahead of it.

There’s a bike trail that goes all the way from Lincoln to Kansas. It’s something like 70 miles. I know I can’t do all of that in one go, but I’ve been wanting to go and bike for part of it. Maybe down to Cortland at first. Then working my way all the way down to Beatrice. That would be about 30 miles on its own. I haven’t felt like I’ve had the extra spending money to get the bike rack though, so I don’t have an easy way to get the bike to the trail. Maybe once everything gets figured out with my check I’ll be able to look into it.

I was pretty angry with my trainer on Thursday, but I think a lot of that had to do with me rather than him. I pushed really hard on Tuesday; harder than I thought I did maybe. All Tuesday night my IT bands hurt. Hurt to the point where I wanted to cry when I was getting out of my car when I got home. Wednesday wasn’t much better and I’m sure work didn’t do anything to help them relax and rest. Thursday still hurt but it got better as the day wore on and I moved around, loosening the muscles up.

When I got to the gym the first thing my trainer said was that I was over my calorie count.

I got on the scale. I’m down another two pounds. I’m officially the thinnest I can ever remember being.

But that doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter that I survived the two weeks of the kids being here. It doesn’t matter that my mom’s birthday is coming up and I’m constantly having to work through the pain of her being dead. It doesn’t matter that I’m constantly having to teach new RNs how to work in my clinic because we’re short staffed. It doesn’t matter that I work 12 hours shifts where I walk six miles and that I’m dead at the end of my days but still push myself to go to the gym and run and extra mile. It doesn’t matter that I’m doing better than I was when I first moved to Nebraska. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t call out; that I showed up to training in the first place even though I didn’t want to.

I’m over my calorie count so I’m a failure.

I’m down two pounds of fat, but I’m a failure.

My workout sucked. I did it. I didn’t skimp out on any of the sets or running, but it sucked.

I cried on the way home because I was so frustrated with everything feeling like it didn’t matter.

I like that my trainer is number and data-oriented, but at the same time I’M A FUCKING HUMAN. I have emotions and shit that I’m having to deal with. I don’t really have a health goal that I’m working on. I don’t care about how many calories I take in. I’m doing awesome with carbs and protein. I’m doing awesome with not compromising or giving in and actually making it to my workouts and doing extra on my own.

Acknowledge some of that. Acknowledge that I do things right instead of making it feel like all I do is wrong.

Wrong this. Wrong that. Wrong everything.

Irrational Right Brain: Fuck you. Ok. Fuck you. And the horse you rode in on. And the one that sired it. Ok. Just… arg. Fuck everything. /flips shit.

So yeah. I cried frustrated, angry tears as I raged at the Universe for about 15 minutes during my 30-minute drive home and I felt better for it.

No, I don’t do everything wrong. No, that’s not what he meant or what he was trying to convey or make me feel. All of this anger and angst was all just internal bullshit within myself that I needed to address. All of this was MY reaction to impersonal information.

This reaction, these emotions were most likely the fallout from not taking care of my internal self. This was build up from not writing and not having alone time and not working through the ickiness of my daily life. This was finally having an external target to rain down the fireballs of death and destruction that had been building up inside me with no place to go.

I do enjoy working with my trainer. I do feel he is worth the money I spend. I do feel I am getting results and I’m grateful that he wants me to become a better me. I understand that he can only do so much while we’re at the gym together and that most of my progress has to come from me being diligent about what I eat and when. I understand that most of the work is out of his hands and the only thing he can do is hold me accountable, which he does.

If I’m making this much progress, then I’m sure it’s frustrating to know that I could be doing even better if only I would be a little more diligent. But it’s out of his control and all he can do is watch as I make choices that he would rather I not make.

And I guess that’s the biggest difference between him and me. He has a goal in mind for me and I don’t.

I’m training more to keep myself in a routine and to make forward progress even though at the moment I don’t know what I’m working towards.

In Orlando, my driving force was the potential of MMA fighting.

Here… I don’t know. I still haven’t found a dojo yet, though I do have a few I want to look into. None of the dojos I am interested in are very close to where I live so I feel like it would be the same issue I faced with the YMCA. I would have the best of intentions but I would end up not going because by the time I get to the end of the day I’m done. I want to go home. I don’t want to drive further into town or be out longer or around strangers who are “clearly doing better in life than me because look at Mrs. Gym Bunny over there prancing through her workout while I feel like I’m dying”.

Where are the q-tips when you need them? >.<;

But maybe I would be better about going to the dojo than the Y. I didn’t like the YMCAs because they were so busy. I couldn’t make it to the classes I wanted. I wouldn’t have really been doing something that I wanted to do. If I had gone to the gym it would have been more of a “well at least it’s better than nothing” sort of feeling. It would have been an investment of my limited energy into something that I really didn’t care about. It wouldn’t have been fulfilling and therefore closer to a waste than an investment.

Maybe the dojo wouldn’t be like that. One of the dojos offers Judo in addition to Jiujitsu and Aikido. I think Judo would be fun to learn. If it’s something I want to do then I’m more likely to push through the things, like tiredness, that were holding me back. I’m more likely to think it’s worth it to drive to be there.

I don’t know. I can see it going both ways.

I still want to fight. I still miss that aspect of Orlando. I miss the feeling of family and belonging that I had. I miss the guys who became my friends and mentors. I miss sparring and pushing myself and proving that I’m better than I think I am. I miss learning.

I’m “training” for my Warrior Dash but even that I haven’t really been focusing on. It wasn’t until last week that I started running and I don’t really think you can call one run “training”. My goal with my race is to simply do it. I’ve run that race for two years now. I don’t want to feel like I lost it, that I gave my race up, because of the move. I can still have it even though it’s a little different than what it used to be. Instead of being in February in Orlando, it’s in July in Nebraska, but it’s still my race and I want to prove to myself that I am still able to do it. I didn’t lose it. It’s not gone for forever.

I don’t care if I weigh a certain amount. I don’t care if I have a certain percentage of body fat. I don’t have an end goal. I wanted to get back to the point where I wouldn’t be dying at the end of the warm-up if I did go back to a dojo, and I think I’m there. I think I am to the point where I can say I’m at square one again. I’m back to where I was before I got my job in Orlando; before I started working 16-hour shifts and had to give up the dojo and training and the gym and everything that made it feel worth it to live the life I had.

So, if I’m back to the beginning, then I need to figure out where to go from here since every step I take now is a step forward. A new step. A step I’ve never taken before to a me I’ve never been before. A stronger, healthier me that I have to come to terms with and understand. A me I need to sit down and talk to and negotiate with.

I do want to keep losing weight and part of that means I need to be more mindful about calories. I’m doing well with what I’m eating. I’m not eating donuts or junk food, mostly… that giant tube of mint chocolate chip ice cream is still in the freeze… STILL… And I want to point out the amazing amount of restraint I have to NOT have any of that when every night I have to look at it as I pull my burger patties out for dinner.

Fucking bastards…. buying my favorite ice cream… It’s so not fair. ;-;

Anyway… Part of the issue is I get so hungry between 7 am and noon at work. I think I’ve figured that out though. I’ve been trying the Wheybolic shakes from GNC. And you can give me shit all you want for buying something from that store. Right now I don’t care. Once I have it figured out I can worry about “the most bang for my buck” or not supporting a giant corporation of inherent evil that feeds off the tears of orphans… Seriously, with some of the posts I’ve read from people, you would think this is the worst store on the face of the planet.

Regardless of the orphan tear issue, having half of the shake for my morning break and then the other half right before change over starts kept me from wanting to eat the countertops while I was working. It kept me full until I was able to actually eat again. So instead of doing the homemade almond bars, I think I’m going to be doing protein shakes during that part of my day. That will cut out a lot of calories while increasing my protein intake, and if it keeps me full, in theory, it will keep me from eating more during the day.

I’ve also poked around online and found some new recipes to try since I’ve been eating roughly the same things for about a month now and I’m getting disenchanted with them. It sucks to look in the fridge and to see the containers of premade meals and to not want any of them. That’s when it’s hard to say no to the evil voice whispering about the pop tarts on the counter.

Why is the house full of all of the things I like and can’t have? Oh… That’s right… because there was an eight-year-old and a thirteen-year-old here for two weeks… The struggle is beyond real sometimes.

I haven’t had anything Mexican in forever. Or Italian. So this week I’m fixing that. I’m still allowed to eat tasty food. It doesn’t have to just be burger patties and chicken breast.

So… while I still don’t have a goal in mind for really anything in my life, I think I’m doing a bit better than I was.

Writing definitely helps with that and I’m going to actually put in effort to try to write more often. Having time away from work helps. Having a small list of projects to improve my home environment helps. There’s just a lot of little things that add up to making today feel like a stronger more stable day.

So with that, I guess I’ll go so I can make my shopping list and shower since nothing can really happen before the shower because I’m ~~weird~~ awesome.

Musing Moments 112: My Favorite Color

It’s the last day the kids are here.

I’ve survived the two weeks without getting a hotel room or an extended stay and with minimal freakouts over not having my own space. This morning has actually been pretty nice so far. Lil’ Ox and I played Little Big Planet 3 for a while. I made her waffles for breakfast and ate my own premade steak and egg breakfast container next to her.

It’s been a low key morning; one that makes me think maybe I’m not so bad at this parenting / mentoring thing. Maybe it’s not the horrific end of myself and my independence that I feel like it will be. I enjoyed this morning and a lot of the days they’ve been here so, theoretically, it’s possible to enjoy others.

I was still able to go to the gym and train. I was still able to work on my tattoo design and on the nights I was super tired I was left alone in the room to sleep.

Yes, there were hiccups and not everything went smoothly or flawlessly, but it went well enough that I’m still ok for the most part. Ok enough to not be terrified or completely against the future or the “next time”.

We made decorations with pearler beads and went swimming. We got work done out in the garage and in the addition. Work has been going alright even though I was shorted 15 hours on my last check.

I can’t really think of anything major to write about even though I haven’t written in most likely three weeks.

Jon is doing well. I’m looking forward to seeing him and Jason in August. I’m not going to be going to Orlando afterward and there’s a lot of factors that go into that choice. I’ll most likely use the leftover money in my “Me Fund” to switch over my car’s license plate.

My race is in roughly two weeks. I know I won’t be able to run all of it but I think I’ll be content with what I’m able to do. I’ll be running alone which is nice. Ox mentioned going with me and hanging out while I run so he can watch. Nothing has been decided, but I do like the idea of not having to worry about pacing myself to match someone else. I want to do this for me. I want to do this alone.

There’s a lot of things I want to do that I haven’t been doing. Alone time is one of those things.

I’ve been missing mom a lot. It will be her birthday soon.

I feel bad for Ox. When I lived alone I could seclude myself away in my room and hide until I was better. I would drink or cry or sleep or whatever it was I needed to do to survive the waves of grief. I didn’t have to worry about messing up anyone else’s day with my sadness.

I don’t have that option here. We share a room. He has to deal with all of it. There’s no real way for me to “get away”. It doesn’t help or make things easier. I haven’t learned how to cope as an introvert with no safe space. So on top of dealing with his own stuff, Ox is stuck with me on my “hard days”.

I don’t know what else to write about on that part.

I wish mom were here. I wish she was still alive. I wish things had been different and at the same time, I don’t because I wouldn’t be where I am if they had been different and I kind of like where I am.

I think I know why it’s hard to hear my name. Everyone calls me Jen. Ox is the only one who will say Jennifer sometimes. Every time I hear my full name I hurt. I think it’s because my mom was the only one who called me by my full name. I can remember the first night at the hospital when the painkillers finally started wearing off and I asked her if she knew who I was. I can remember how she rolled her eyes at me like it was the silliest question ever.

Mom: You’re Jennifer.

I am Jennifer but that seems like such a hard and impossible person to be. It’s easier to be Jen, the PCT or Kitten, the not girlfriend / not wife nebulous life partner.

It’s easy to get caught up in the trivial, surface level pettiness of Life and to forget that I’m injured, but hearing my full name reminds me. I can’t pretend when I hear it. I can’t fake my way through that pain. I have to face it and I don’t want to.

I guess there’s a large part of me who doesn’t want to be me. I don’t want to put in all of the work it will take to heal all of the injuries I have.

I don’t really know what I’m doing with my life at the moment. I go to work. I pay my bills. I try to eat healthy as I have a bowl of mint ice cream at night that I don’t log on My Fitness Pal.

I’m still doing well at work. I’m still losing weight and gaining muscle. I’m still making ends meet.

I don’t know what it feels like, this life I’ve been living for almost five months now. Maybe that’s because I’m not allowing myself to fully feel it. Sort of like how I ignore my injuries. Maybe I’m just existing through my life at the moment rather than fully immersing myself in it and experiencing it.

There’s a part of me who doesn’t trust it. I’m waiting for it to run out; to end. The good times can only last so long.

I say “I love you,” but I don’t feel it the way I used to. There’s a part of me who doesn’t want to. I love as much as I feel I can. I’m broken. You’ll die. There’s only so much I can give. It doesn’t feel like enough, though. It feels like you deserve more. It doesn’t feel like it used to before mom died and I don’t know if it ever can or will.

Ox: Are you happy?

He’s asked me that a few times and I don’t know how to answer. I’m not “not happy”. I would like my own room. I would like for things to stay organized. I would like for the dirty clothes to not be on the floor. I would like for there to not be pop tarts on the kitchen counter tempting me every morning. But in the scheme of things, I have a roof over my head. I am staying here rent free. I have food. I have a car. I have a job. I have a support structure and people who care about me.

There’s no reason for me to not be happy. But most of the time there’s this feeling of distance. Like I’m holding my breath. A tension.

I hate this part of myself, but I already know what I would try to do if the relationship failed. I already have a “backup plan”. I wouldn’t move back to Orlando. I would try to move to Beatrice so I would be closer to my clinic.

And maybe that’s something else that keeps me from giving fully into whatever this is.

A relationship is supposed to be a compromise. Give and take.

I moved away from my lovers and brother. It feels like I’ve given up my solitude. I have taken on the responsibility of helping to care for two children. I have changed work environments. I agreed to pursue another obligation which I’m going to leave vague because I don’t want to write further about it. Sorry if that’s frustrating.

I knowingly accepted a lot of things before moving.

I want it to feel fair. But when asked if I’m happy the most I can bring up is apathy. I don’t hate where I’m at, but no, I don’t really think I’m happy. I’ve lost too much too fast with very little to compensate that loss to feel happy right now.

I’m happier then I was in Orlando. I don’t hate Life. I think that’s an improvement.

I want to see my brothers. That’s about it. I want to see others but I can’t go to Orlando and see the people there because if I do I know I’ll fuck everything that I have up. Ox and I talked about that aspect about it so he knows.

And I guess that’s something I can admit to and acknowledge within myself. If I went to Orlando I would most likely have sex with Big Bad and my Blacksmith. I don’t know if that’s weakness. I don’t feel like it is. I still care about them. I cared about them before I moved. I still care about them after my move. I didn’t move because the relationships sucked or because they treated me poorly.

I know they had their own issues. Big Bad never said “I love you” back. He sent the drunk text message the day of the Warrior Dash lashing out in his hurt. My Blacksmith and I were never able to spend much time together and that dynamic had its own complications. Then there’s Sir who chose not to see me to say goodbye before I left and all of the history from when we dated.

Maybe this is another aspect of me that’s broken and needs to be worked on.

They still built me up the most during a time where I was at my lowest, though. They let me be myself and didn’t give me shit for it. I still care for them and I still have the mentality that you can love more than one person without it affecting the love you feel for another.

Ox and I agreed to be monogamous so it’s better to not go. I feel like if I went to Orlando I would be choosing myself over the relationship and that the relationship would die because of my selfishness. There’s still a part of me who feels like I’m losing something else, something more, because I am making the choice to not go. I’m giving up more on top of what I have already agreed to let go.

I don’t feel whole. I feel like I function “good enough” and that’s the best I can do. The jagged, broken pieces of myself grind against one another rather than being well oiled and cared for. You can tune out the sound of friction if you try hard enough. I feel like that’s what I do most of the time.

I ignore. I pretend. I go day by day and it’s “good enough” so I should accept it. I’m never going to have mom back so I should learn to be ok with what I have.

I think there’s still a lot of stuff for me to work through and like so many of my other writings I don’t feel like I’ve figured anything out. I still feel like it’s all pointless and a waste of time because I never seem to figure any of it out.

I just keep finding more and more things to try to fix with no solution for fixing them. They’re just problems within myself that keep me from fitting in properly with the world I find myself in now. The world I’ve placed myself in.

I still love people, but I’m not allowed to express that love so I’m wrong. I’m an introvert living in an environment where I can’t be alone so I’m wrong. I don’t want to be a parent but I’m in a relationship with two children so I’m wrong to try to not be a parental figure.

I guess that’s the core of it all. I feel wrong. I feel like I’m the problem. I’m the only one with issues so it’s me that needs to change. Everyone else is fine. I’m the one who’s not.

What do I want?

I want to be ok. I want my mom back. I want to be able to cry and curl up with her urn alone without the fear of someone coming into the room or hearing the TV playing Modern Family.

I want things I can’t have and so I feel defeated. I can’t win so what’s the point of feeling anything?

Am I happy?

No. But I can’t have what will make me happy so I’m “good enough” and right now that’s the best I can do. I’m sorry I can’t do better. I’m sorry I feel this way. I’m sorry I can’t be normal like the rest of the world. I’m sorry I’m myself and I’m sorry for being sorry about that. I’m sorry I make things harder and more complicated than they should be. I’m sorry I don’t game as much as I did in Orlando. I’m sorry for wanting sex more than you. I’m sorry I’m always trying to complete a project or organize something. I’m sorry I don’t know how to relax more. I’m sorry I’m not more social and that I don’t want to find a dead bird for us to play with and hopefully writing that makes you smile knowing that the rest of the Internet is going “What the actual fuck?” right now. I’m sorry everything seems to come back to my mom being dead. I’m sorry I can’t seem to get past that. I’m sorry that you’ll read this and feel some sort of failing on your part. I’m sorry for messing up your day. I’m sorry if now we’re not ok.

I love you and I’m sorry if that’s not enough. I’m sorry if my love is broken and not the same as yours.

Thank you for everything you do and have done for me these past almost five months. Thank you for the nights you let me sleep on the couch without making me feel bad. Thank you for trying so hard to make safe spaces for me. Thank you for your patience and the times you’ve held me while I’ve cried. Thank you for not giving up on me. I promise I’m trying to get better. I promise I’ll try to be ok today.

It’s one of the few things I look forward to; seeing you at the end of my days. No matter how shitty they are, no matter how much work sucks, or how much I feel like I didn’t push hard enough at the gym, or whatever other nonsense my brain plays inside of my head, I always look forward to seeing you. I always think about you, about how I’m almost home, when I see the cell phone tower you pointed out to me because that’s how I know where to turn. I look forward to your hugs. I look forward to your voice. I look forward to you because you’re my favorite color.

I will see you tonight. I love you.

Daily Post 093: Enjoying Summer

This past week has been one of my rougher ones since moving to Nebraska. I worked five days this week. I survived until Thursday, my first day off, and since that was my main goal I feel like the week was a success.

On top of surviving, I got the news that I’m down a pound in body fat and up two in muscle. That’s validating and motivating.

I went to the Anytime Fitness for the first time to work out on Thursday. I like the gym. I like how it was mostly empty and I was able to do my own thing. I rowed and worked on my arms. What makes that workout even better is the fact that I did it after working with my trainer, so that’s two workouts in one day. I feel like I’m getting back to my “pre-work” level; back when I was able to spend three hours at the dojo pretty much every day sparing with people I now miss.

I feel like I’m back to making progress and that’s a good feeling.

I feel like this next week is going to go smoother in some ways and harder in others. I’m almost done with all of my cooking. I have the laundry to switch over to the dryer. I just got back home with Ox from running out to get new work shoes since my feet have started to hurt again. Since my days are shorter then what they were in Orlando and because I’ve had my shoes for over a year now, I’m pretty sure it’s an issue with the shoes themselves. We’ll see how tomorrow goes with the new ones I suppose.

Ox is going to have his kids for the next two weeks.

That’s where things are going to get harder. I’m prepped better for the coming week but we’ll have the kids…

That’s two weeks that I still have to work and wake up early while they’re on summer vacation. That’s two weeks of them being home on my days off and wanting to do things. Two weeks of “I don’t know how to be a parent what the fuck and I’m supposed to do I need an instruction guide someone please save me”.

I’m thinking about looking into getting an extended stay room close to my clinic for the coming weeks. That would give me a quiet place to retreat to when I need silence and space. That would give me a place to sleep without raining on everyone’s fun.

The downside is that it would be expensive and unlike the hotel rooms I’ve been booking for the nights before my shifts in Omaha, this wouldn’t be reimbursed. I also feel like it would be running away and hiding from something that I have to eventually face.

I haven’t made any decisions yet. But I’m going to have to figure something out soon. The kids will be here Thursday evening. I work both Friday and Saturday. Being tired and sleep deprived and mentally / emotionally tapped out from not having recovery time isn’t an option I really want to entertain. Arg >.<;

Saturday went well. And I guess I should back up to Friday. Friday went well, too. I worked with a new nurse that day since my FA had to go out of town. The nurse was familiar with the machines my clinic uses so that was a plus. The day went smoothly and I was grateful that it went better than I had thought it would.

I drove home and packed for my overnight stay in Omaha before driving into Lincoln to have dinner with Ox. He went with me across the street where I filled my car’s tank up and then wished me well. I’m glad to say that I was able to make the whole trip to the hotel without GPS. It helps that I’ve been staying at the same hotel each time. I’m getting familiar with the staff there. I like their facility. They have a pool that I haven’t been in yet. They also have a fitness room that’s 24 hours which I almost used this time.

Saturday started out nice even though it was a rainy and windy morning. I slept deeply and woke up feeling rested; at least rested enough to make it through the day. I didn’t need the GPS to get the clinic. Go me!

Even with the complications of a machine not working the day went well. I’m more familiar with how tasks are divided up and I have a better idea where things are located. I know how to be helpful past the point of setting up machines and taking care of patients. I can help prep the clinic for the next day. I can make needle packs and organize the morning shift setups.

I was able to close down the water room fine on my own. I was confident this time rather than holding my breath and hoping I did it right. I’ve gotten to the point where I know which steps take a while, so I don’t have to have everything on the floor done before beginning the water room. It doesn’t require my focused, undivided attention. I can get to this particular step then go back out and finish wiping down chairs. I can get to this step then go empty the bleach containers. Once I get to this step I can count the dialyzers.

I can be more efficient with my time, which means I can close the clinic faster than the hour or so it’s been taking me. That’s another good feeling. Efficiency is a big thing for me. I knew I would be slow at first. I knew it would take me a few times to get comfortable with the process. Now I’m getting to the point where I can improve my workflow. I’m no longer “learning”. Now I’m tweaking and figuring out what works for me.

I’m thinking about offering to work Saturdays for their clinic until they can get people through training. It would keep me making overtime while working a fairly chill shift with people I like. I don’t mind the thought of being there. I don’t feel a sand-pappery aversion to the thought. There’s not the crushing, draining weight of “I don’t want to do this,” that makes me cry silent tears on the way to do anyway.

There are grocery stores on the way home I can stop at after my Saturday shift. I can work that back into my weekend routine. Meal plan on Thursday’s most likely since Friday is a 12-hour shift. With meals planned out, I can make a grocery list. With a grocery list, I can do the shopping on Saturday like I used to, along with any prep work that needs to be done once I’m home. Put meats in marinades. Cut up veggies if I need to. Then Sundays can go back to simply being cooking days rather than everything all at once. With a little bit of planning, a little bit of proactiveness, I think I can make this work for me.

I want to see if I can.

I have already been approved for having July 13th and 14th off. That’s the Friday before my race and the day of my race. I’m actually looking forward to it a little bit. More than I was when I first signed up. I signed up because I knew I wanted to do a Warrior Dash this year. I missed doing the one in Florida. I wanted to see my patients one last time instead. I wanted to give them their thank you cards in person. I didn’t want my Warrior Dash to be the last time I was with Big Bad. I didn’t want the weight of knowing we were saying goodbye to hang over the entire event, which it would have for me. It would have hurt to run it that way. So I didn’t.

But it’s something I think of as “my” race. It’s where I started. That first one; that was my moment of taking me back for myself. That was me giving a giant “Fuck you” to the person so undermined so much of my self-confidence for so long. I could do it. I did do it. I can do it. And there was, is, still a part of me who wanted to run the race even though I didn’t in February.

That’s why I signed up for the one here, in Nebraska, in July. Because there’s a part of me who still needed to run it even though I was feeling bad at the time. I had regressed. I knew I needed to address that and I’m glad I did even though in the beginning it sucked. I’m glad I met with my trainer and I’m glad he’s working with me. I want to do better this race. I want to keep improving. So yeah. I’m a little more jazzed about it than I was when I first signed up. I’m looking forward to it even though it’s a small, soft, vulnerable thing at the moment.

I hope it continues to grow. I hope it becomes a confident and stable thing. A, “I know I’ll do well” feeling rather than a, “I hope I do well” feeling.

I finally was able to spend most of a day outside today. Ox worked a bit in the addition but we’ve run out of 2x4s so he can’t keep working on the walls. We were trying to get work done in the yard, but that required moving a piece of equipment which ended up taking most of the day. We didn’t get done with that until 2 pm. It would be easier to write about if I knew what half the stuff we used was called, but I don’t. All I can say is that my arms and core are sore from all of the work we ended up having to do manually, but it’s a good sore.

We got something done, something pretty major, and we got it done together. We sweated together. We got tired together. We accomplished something together and that makes me feel good. It makes me feel connected and like I’m part of something.

It was a fantastic day outside. Warm. Sunny. I wanted to get more done, so I did. I moved some piles of scrap wood and raked up last years dead leaves and sticks. I’m not through with the raking and there’s a part of me that feels bad for not getting it completed. There’s part of me who feels like I add to the mess and disorganization by leaving something half done, but I could tell my body was wearing down. I was sunburnt. I needed water. I needed food. I still needed to still finish my cooking. At some point, I needed to shower again…

I needed to do all of these things that take time and energy and I only have so much of each to spend and use each day. So as much as I wanted to get everything done, the yard was something left at a state of half complete; contained and better, but not finished.

I would like to finish the yard Tuesday after my shift at Cap City, but I’m not sure how that day is going to go, so… We’ll have to wait and see. I might not be able to really get back outside until Thursday. But yeah, even with that task incomplete I feel really good right now and I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that I was finally outside doing something.

The day actually started later than I thought it would. I woke up at 2 am since I’m conditioned to wake up early. Thankfully I was able to get back to sleep. I slept until almost 9 am; way later than that I thought I would or could have. That’s an additional seven hours of sleep. As Ox said, though, I guess I needed it if my body let that happen. With how little sleep I got for the first part of the week maybe that’s more true than not. Maybe it’s not just pretty words to make me feel better, but a truth I should accept.

That’s harder to do when the Evil Voice nags about how much time was wasted doing nothing. Fucking Evil Voice… I will break out the Q-tips… >.>

I spent the first part of the morning cooking before going outside to help Ox. I think that helped since I had a break from cooking and didn’t have to spend four solid hours in the kitchen.

I used a spice mix last week for the deer roast I cooked which turned out amazing. So amazing I’m actually using it again. I’ve seasoned some steaks with it and chicken thighs as well. It really is that awesome. Since it helps to marinate the meat a bit first, I seasoned everything before Ox and I ran into town.

We went to the Skechers store where I got new work shoes. I was surprised to find out that I get a discount because of the company I work for. A 30% discount. Woo!

We stopped at Walmart after that so I could get another packet of a glaze I tried last week as well. Again, something that turned out to be pretty amazing.

So the cooking is almost done. Just have to bake some stuff now. The laundry is almost done. My hotel for Friday night is already reserved. My bills are already paid and though I’m lower on funds than what I would like, everything is overpaid as far as my debt is concerned and nothing is due until next paycheck which will have my billion hours of overtime on it with my double incentive shift.

I didn’t get my bike rack this weekend, but I’m ok with that because I got the window AC unit with Ox and new shoes and two cases of my Bang energy drink. I got new sunglasses that I actually like. The hotel had my laptop charger in their lost and found when I checked in Friday night since I couldn’t find it when I got back home last weekend.

There’s a lot of warmth going on in my life right now. A lot of progress. A lot of security. I’m not worried about my job anymore which helps.

It’s summer. It’s my time. My season. I’m not sick or working so much that I can’t enjoy it. And though I grieve every day in my own way, I’m not the shattered version of myself I was when mom first died.

It feels like this is the first summer since mom died that I’ll be able to go out and do things and… live… I guess. It’s… it’s a good feeling even though it makes my eyes sting with tears. When I was raking earlier today I remembered how I would help her rake when we lived in South Carolina. I remember how she hated to do yard work and how I would help her because many hands make light work. She would always say it went by faster with help and so I wanted to help her.

I don’t know what else to write or where to go from that train of thought. I guess that’s it. I don’t really feel like writing anymore. My heart aches. It’s not good or bad. It’s just life…

Mom is dead and I can’t rake the yard with her anymore, but I can still enjoy my days and be outside in the sunlight and I can remember her and all of the things she taught me. I can remember all of the moments we had and what they meant to me; what they still mean to me.

Today was a good day. Saturday was a good day. Friday and Thursday were good days, too. I’m looking forward to tomorrow. I’m looking forward to going to work and telling my patients about my weekend and how I got new shoes.

I don’t dislike my life anymore, mom and I’m sorry that there’s still a part of me who feels guilty about that. I know this is what you want for me. To be happy. To live. To keep going. I’m sorry that it still hurts and sucks sometimes. I’m sorry there’s a part of me who feels like it’s a betrayal to you to be able to keep going. I promise I still love you. I promise it still hurts as much as it ever did; as much as it ever will.

I’m thankful at the same time. I’m here because of you. I know it. It’s one of my truths and I don’t care what other people think or feel about those words. You’ve done so much for me in life and in death. Thanks for helping get me to a point where I actually have the option to enjoy summer again.

I love you, mom. Forever and for always.

Daily Post 090: Learning To Be Wiser

Once again not proofread. <3

The longer I go without writing the more confusing and distant and disorganized things are going to get. I know it’s already drastically past my bedtime, which is sad because it’s only 9:40, but I have work again tomorrow at my home clinic, thank the Universe, and that means a 3 am wake-up call.

Even still, I know I’ll feel better after writing. I’ll be able to sleep better, deeper knowing that I did this even if it ends up taking a while.

Combat was fun on Tuesday. I keep forgetting that it’s only Thursday. It feels like so much has happened. So much time has passed… But it’s only been two days. Two long, full, near breakdown days.

Tuesday had a lot of new, but it also had a lot of what is becoming routine. I went to training at the gym and even though it happened later in the day, it was nice to go through the same set on the machines. Tuesday I was back up to 200 pounds again but it wasn’t as hard to do as last week. My trainer and I talked about how I had to wear a knee brace for Friday evening and Saturday the week before. We talked about different muscles and more of my past experiences.

We didn’t talk about my metrics so I didn’t have to have the look of disapproval for the piece of pie I shared with Ox; at least not yet. Still dodging that bullet.

We continued doing plyometric work after the machines. I can feel myself getting back into it.

By the end of the session I was feeling better then I had before it. Less tired in some ways, more tired in others. It was a positive improvement and I’m glad I went.

After the gym, I went grocery shopping. My right knee started feeling iffy; sore, much like how my left leg had started acting up the week before. I didn’t have my brace with me, though. I went ahead and bought a second one and put it one before going back into the store to do the grocery shopping. I’m sure I could have completed that task without the brace, but I wanted to be proactive with listening to my body. It was sore and needed to rest, which wasn’t an option, so I did the next best thing and supported the areas that were the most tired.

After the grocery shopping, I dashed home where I put my food away. I didn’t have time to do any prep work with it. Ox needed me to meet him in town before combat practice so I could give him a change of clothes and I still really wanted to stop by the scrub store I had found online so work wouldn’t be additionally stressful with having to bend space and time to do laundry at some point.

I was home maybe 10 minutes before getting back in my car and driving into Lincoln. I was able to pick up a new set of scrubs. I actually really, really like my new set and I will eventually replace the ones I have. I think I’m going to wait to do that for a while, though. The ones I have are still good and if I’m going to be losing a bunch of weight, it seems silly to get all new of something just to turn around and replace it because it becomes too big.

I at least have a very good idea of what I will eventually be getting. The new set is super lightweight compared to what I have. The tops are longer, the pant legs looser. I don’t know. It feels more “me” I guess… I’m more comfortable and ok in them. I’m looking forward to the day I actually do replace my current ones with this particular brand. Not that I dislike the ones I have… I just happen to like the new ones more.

To be fair I’ve only ever owned two types of scrubs. Maybe three depending on how you count them. I had the cotton set that I got from when I took the CNA and PCT classes in Orlando. I had the cotton set from work when I started with DaVita as well. Since they were the same material though, I don’t think they really count. Then I got the set from the Orlando scrub store; Healing Hands 360. And by comparison, there is no comparison. HH360 is way better and I love/loved them. I can’t find the tag with the brand name for the new ones, they’re a set above HH360.

So much love for them. <3

So now I have four sets of scrubs. I might get one more set just to be safe, but we’ll have to wait and see about that one.

Anyway. I got scrubs on Tuesday. Woo.

I met up with Ox after that and we took my care to the park where the combat practice was going to be. Inside my head I was worried about it turning out like the first one I went to Orlando; that is… rained out with a message saying the practice was canceled being sent out via a Facebook group I was yet to be a part of…

Luckily the weather gods were on my side. The practice was held and Tuesday was the first day I was put in actual armor and put against someone to fight. My teacher/opponent is an experienced fighter who was impressed with how well I did for a starter. She said not only was I swinging multiple blows in varying locations, I was using the shield at times and moving around rather than staying in one place. I know I have a ways to go, but it was a lot of fun.

Ox and I got to meet a handful of cool people and I think his interest is peaked.

We went to my new sports bar after practice for dinner since neither of us had eaten. If we had waited until we had gotten home I wouldn’t have been to sleep until much later than I already was.

I woke up the next day and did my morning stuff before heading to work. It was a fairly smooth day. I was told I would for sure be working at the South Omaha clinic and that a hotel was booked for me. Ox wanted to go to the moot the SCA group was hosting at the library which meant I wouldn’t get to see him for very long.

I went home, packed up what I needed for the night and next day then headed to the library so we could see each other for a few minutes before I left for the night.

He said it was an interesting meeting so far since it was still going on when I got there. He went back inside, I got back in my car and drove to the hotel. I checked in. I talked to Jon for a while, then Ox when he called me. He had gone to dinner with the group after the meeting and it sounded like he had a good time.

I slept deeply. I woke up literally one minute before my alarm went off.

My ankles were bothering this morning instead of my knees so I went to Walgreens and bought ankle compression stuff. I think it helped to have them versus not, but they’re still sore so it’s hard to tell.

The day went well. I love the RN I worked with. She’s super nice and helpful. Both of the techs were new to me, but again, they were amazing to work with and I’m glad I got to meet them.

The day didn’t go badly until the end. I had to close the water room by myself for the first time. I followed the sheet they had but there are steps missing which caused at least one alarm to go off which frayed my nerves a bit. Then there was an issue with the CWP being low on its disinfect. I know how to fix that but I didn’t know where their chemicals were stored. Once the RN and I finally figured it out I couldn’t get the machine to not alarm for “low chemical”.

Me: It’s a new jug. It can’t get any fuller than it is. What the F’ do you want from me, Machine? Please just let me go home. ;-;

The RN and I figured that issue out. So the rest of the tasks should have been easy. And to be fair they were. All I had to do was finish cleaning one station, empty the bleach containers, then leave. That’s it.

The RN asked if I would be ok closing on my own. I said yes, and I was confident in my “yes”.

She asked if I was leaving through the front or back door. I said front because that’s where I parked. She said, in that case, I would need to arm the alarm for the door.

Me: Ok. I don’t know how to do that for this clinic yet.

She gave me the code for it; writing it down on a square, yellow PostIt note which I saw her place on the nurse’s station counter. She went about doing a few other things. I did a few of my things. She asked me again if I would be ok, repeating the code to me verbally.

Me: Yeah. I’ll be fine. Go ahead and go. I’ll be done shortly.

I finished what I was doing. I faxed the papers I needed to fax. I looked for the sticky note… only to not find it… anywhere….

It wasn’t on the back of a book, or under the keyboard. It wasn’t in any of the trashcans. It wasn’t in the breakroom. It. Wasn’t. There…

Ok… Keep calm. You can figure this out, Jen…

The only number I have is the FA’s number… Ok. Not the best option, but I can explain myself if she answers and hopefully resolve this issue easily. Smoothly…

No answer…

Of course not. Who would keep their work phone on while they are on vacation…

Ok… Don’t panic. Call YOUR FA because maybe she’ll be able to call someone else. Again, not the best option, but this is an issue that needs to be solved. You can’t just drive back to Lincoln and leave the clinic unlocked…

No answer…

She’s at a convention for the company and most likely also does not have her work phone on her…

Fuck…. ok… Call the other FA who’s in training…

No answer.

Ok… There’s got to be a book with a list of everyone’s number who works at the clinic. They mentioned it before… Can. Not. Find. The. Freaking. Book.

Me: … *desperation* …

There’s the app on the intranet… People, Places, Things… I can look up the clinic and get a list of everyone who works here. Maybe I can figure out a way to find their number through that or be able to Facebook stalk them enough to send them an SOS message or just… something…

I have no idea what the password is for their computers and it’s not written on them anywhere so I can’t actually get on a computer.

Ok. Now’s a valid time to break down.

I tried calling Ox to have a voice of reason keep me sane and stable with how close I was to tears over not being able to figure my situation out.

No answer.

Fuck my life.

I called Jon who, thankfully, blessedly, answered his phone.

He listened to me explaining my store. While I was in the middle of it, mind you, my phone is at 4% battery, the FA in training calls me back. I tell Jon I’ll call him later, that I need to answer this call and switch the phone over. I explain what’s going on and what I’ve tried to do already.

She said she would reach out and see if she could get ahold of someone for me.

Long story short and a few phone calls later, I’m told that I can leave. Training FA called another FA who can reach out to a member of the South Omaha team who lives close by to can lock the door for me.

Me: Omg. I’m out. So out. Like “I can’t drive out of Omaha and back to the middle of nowhere fast enough” out.

So, two hours after our last patient had left for the day I was finally able to leave and start the roughly hour-long drive back home.

I called Jon back and we talked for a while. During that phone call, Ox tried calling me three times. I called him back after my talk with Jon and we stayed on the phone until I was all the way back home.

I cried while he hugged me. There was a feeling of relief in that hug.

I don’t know why, after all of the shit that I’ve been through in life; my parents divorce, caring for my grandmother, seeing mom in the hospital, everything that happened after her death… why a fucking door code is the thing that makes me want to break down and feel like Life is too much to handle.

I’m actually a little aggravated with myself over it looking back at it but whatever. I didn’t drink when I got home so I’m giving myself massive points for that.

Instead, I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher. I made dinner since I didn’t have any meals for tonight or tomorrow. I prepped the shrimp I plan to use for a second meal. I ate, and now I’ve written.

The end of the workday sucked and I have learned a very valuable lesson. I knew I needed to make an Evernote with this clinic’s information in it, but I didn’t. I knew that I should have gotten contact information from people, and didn’t. And when I needed that information, I didn’t have it.

NEVER. AGAIN.

That level of stress over something so minor was not worth it and totally avoidable.

Knowledge is having information. Wisdom is applying that knowledge.

Today I was not wise, which means tomorrow and every day from this point forward I can be wiser.

And with that mindset… I’m going to go have one last cigarette and shower before going to sleep to do another 12-hour shift tomorrow in the safety and familiarity of my own, small, eight station home clinic.

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Daily Post 089: A Mini-Meltdown With Planning

I’m tired. I have training at 3 which means I have about an hour and a half before I need to leave. I have combat practice which I still want to go to that I’m scared of not making due to the tiredness.

I don’t want it to win, yet at the same time, the thought of going out to my car feels heavy. Knowing that the dishwasher needs to be unloaded reminds me that it will then need to be loaded afterwards and that my clothes still aren’t put away and that I’m running low and prepared food and that I work the next three days and won’t have a chance to cook or clean because one of my shifts is in Omaha again and that alone is two hours worth of traveling if traffic isn’t bad.

It feels like a lot even though I know it’s not that much. I know it’s doable with planning and conscious, thoughtful intention, but right now staying in bed and just… not… is so much more appealing in the short term.

I’m finally eating my breakfast even though it’s noon. It’s warm and tasty and I think that’s helping. I know I need to drink more water since I haven’t had any since last night. I know once I’m at the gym and moving around that I’ll be better and that thought is what I’m holding on to. If I just start, if I can just get myself there, everything will work itself out, but that’s the hardest part, isn’t it?

That’s the part that doesn’t get done; the “getting there” part.

Yesterday was a decent day at work but even that had its own issues which kept me from doing things I had been looking forward to.

I worked with my FA for the first time on the floor by ourselves. It went well except for the morning because she didn’t know how to unlock the door properly so the patients could get inside on time. That put all of our patients behind by a few minutes, but once you’re behind there’s no way to really catch up and it dominoed into the rest of the day.

I spent most of the day making needle packs so now I have a proper setup; at least one that I think will work for me. There are two bins of 15 gauge needle packs. When one runs out there’s the second to replace it and the first can be refilled without causing a breakdown in the chain of supplies or the worry of old supplies never getting used and buried under the new stuff. I still want to make another bin worth of standard packs, ones without needles, for the times we need 17, 16, or 14 gauge needles. It’s easier to grab a premade pack and add the needle lines into them since very few of our patients use anything outside of 15s.

And since the clinic is down to three days a week, I’m able to keep all of the packs I need for the week in one of the drawers at my station, so I don’t have to worry about making sure I have the packs out of the stock room for the next day. I can reset on Friday for the coming week and be good to go. So far it’s been working well; the system I’m developing, finding, fine-tuning. It’s making things run easier for me, and because they’re running easier for me that in turn makes it easier for my RN and our patients because I’m able to do more. I can be more present rather than trying to take care of tasks that also need to get done. It’s an efficiency thing, and that’s something I’m good and figuring out, given the time to do it.

So yeah, yesterday I spent a majority of my downtime working with supplies. I also got to talk to our BioMed for a while after lunch which was fantastic. He answered a lot of my questions and I feel I’m more comfortable with the machines. That was another 15 minutes or so where I wasn’t on the floor prepping for the next day, though.

Once all of our patients were off the machines my FA wanted me to walk her through the “closing” tasks, so even though there were two of us doing them, it still took a bit longer because I had to explain what I was doing and why.

I had been hoping to get to the gym for a spin class along with doing the workouts my trainer wants me to be doing on my off days; the days I’m not working with him. The class started at 5:30. I didn’t leave the clinic until six. I had been looking forward to the gym all day. I’ve been eating better. I’ve had more energy. At lunch, I felt like I would have the energy to do it; to do to the class and maybe not crush it, but at least do it which would have been better than the previous week where I didn’t go at all.

After I clocked out from work, though, all I wanted was to go home, which was another thing that changed.

I had been told early in the morning that North Omaha still needed me to cover for them Tuesday morning. I was supposed to be at their clinic at 4:45 and work until around noon. I didn’t find out until 5:30 pm that they no longer needed me.

I’m not complaining about having time to myself, but it would have been nice to have had more warning that things were going to change.

Since I no longer had an hour drive ahead of me with a full day of work in my future, all I wanted was to go home and shower and eat and go to bed. So that’s what I did. I didn’t go to the gym and there’s a part of me who’s not happy about that fact. The difference between reasons and excuses are perspective and I can see both sides of my situation and it sucks. I made a smart choice by caring for myself and my introvertedness and getting proper food and rest. I’m also a slacker because I’m sure I really did have enough reserves to make it to the gym and do the things my trainer wants me to be doing.

Flipside… I haven’t stopped or had any length of downtime to myself aside from the two nights where I slept at the hotel and while I know that counts towards something, I don’t really think it counts as much as the time I have had this morning, right now, to myself. It’s the first morning where I’ve woken up and haven’t had to do anything or really plan for the immediate two to four hours after my initial wake-up.

Since I was supposed to be in Omaha, my at the gym training was moved to later in the day, so I had the ability to go back to sleep after Ox left for work, which I don’t know if that was a good call or not with how slow and tired I feel now.

I’ve been asked to cover a few shifts at the downtown Lincoln location in the coming weeks. I’ll be an opener on the TTS shifts so I’ll be one of the first techs to leave. I don’t want this to become habit or routine. I liked the South Omaha clinic so much more than the downtown Lincoln one, and maybe that’s because I was still in “training” while I was at DTL. It would be nice to see some of those techs again and a few of the RNs. It would be nice to see some of the patients I had in Beatrice since they had to move clinics temporarily while my clinic is down to only three days.

I would still get overtime and travel compensation for helping at the clinic, but there’s still, once again, a part of me who isn’t all that happy that I was asked to work there. It’s confusing and I don’t think right now, while I’m tired, is the time to try to figure those feelings out.

Instead, I think what I need to do is to figure out how to be ok in the coming days.

Combat practice doesn’t end until 8:30 which means if I stay for the whole thing I won’t be home until roughly nine, and I’ll need a shower, so I’m looking at a 9:30 bed time at the earliest while still having to wake up at 3 am for work. I think it might be better to only stay until 7:30 and have a larger time frame to prep for tomorrow morning.

I know that I need more burger and chicken. At least the burger patties since those are easy meals that I don’t need anything else for. I can precook them and take them with me if need be. I’ve been doing well with my metrics, even with having two bites of chocolate cream pie last night. I’m fully expecting my trainer to say something about it today but I would rather be honest about logging it than hiding it and I’m not going to regret my choice. Instead of having a whole slice I got to share it with Ox. It was a compromise. A halfway happy. I didn’t deny myself, but I didn’t do a full-on “zero fucks given” free-for-all either.

I will have a very brief window between training and combat practice where I could try to cook something as long as it’s fairly quick. It might be good for me to figure something out now because I won’t have much of a chance tomorrow if I’m driving up to a hotel in Omaha in the evening and that would leave me with no food for Thursday, and I won’t be leaving Omaha until 5 pm, so roughly a 7pm home arrival time with work again in Beatrice at 4:30 so there’s not much time in the evening to do anything that day either.

If I can survive until the weekend I’ll be ok. I just don’t know how to do that at the moment.

I’m going to need to do laundry since I still only have three pairs of scrubs and I work four days a week for the next three weeks it seems. It’s something I mentioned to Ox this morning while we were texting the first time I woke up. Even if I don’t use them, I think it would be smart to get more scrubs so the issue of laundry is no longer an issue. Maybe even another two pairs of socks so I can avoid that being a thing as well. And maybe that’s something I can look at today while we’re in town. I’m sure there’s a scrub store. I can look online to see if anyone carries the ones I want. Maybe even call and see if they have them in stock. I still have time. I can figure all of this out instead of sitting here and feeling like it’s all a disaster waiting to happen. It will only be a disaster if I sit passively and do nothing. I need to be proactive if I’m going to solve the issues that I know are problems.

I’m not going to be a helpless bystander who gets run over by Life. I’m going to be a bawce and take care of this shit because I refuse to let it make my days harder.

So I think that’s what I’m going to do. Instead of having a breakdown, I’m going to plan and take action. I have an hour before I need to leave.

I need to figure out a shopping list for after the gym. I need to figure out my scrub issue. I need to go to training. I need to stop by the store. I need to cook one meal since I still have enough premade breakfast left to get me through the week. I need to potentially pick up scrubs and socks. And then I need to meet with Ox so we can eat before beating each other with sticks at the SCA practice.

I will make this a good day.

It’s my one day off. I won’t let tiredness win. I WILL do the things and it WILL be a good day.

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Warrior Freya

The Earth Dragon Who Could

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