Third day.

We had steaks on the grill for dinner last night with shrimp. We played Zombiecide again with Jon. He finally made it here even though his luggage didn’t. That eventually got figured out but it was one hell of a trip for him to make it here.

He had a nine-hour layover in an airport that wasn’t open 24 hours. They didn’t give him a hotel voucher or any sort of food assistance even though all of the shops at the airport were already closed. He had to hide in a bathroom stall so security wouldn’t escort him off of the premises with nowhere for him to go.

Yeah. It sucked. It’s stories like that that make me not want to fly or go anywhere. And that’s not even touching on the PTSD that I still struggle with during takeoffs. It wasn’t as hard to breathe this time, but there were still the silent tears.

I don’t know what I am today in this moment. Sad, I think. It’s my last full day here. It’s only 11 am but it already feels like I’ve been awake for eternity. I had a hard time falling asleep last night and when I finally did get to sleep I had dreams though I can’t remember much about them.

I remember it was winter outside. There was someone standing in the doorway. A male. I remember having them come inside so the door could be shut and the warmth from the fireplace could stay inside. I remember feeling hesitant about that; about offering hospitality. There was a group of us around the fire, keeping the cold at bay, and now there was this stranger in such close quarters. It didn’t feel wrong, but it felt… awkward. One of those, “I’ve made my choice and now all I can do is see what happens.” Only I woke up so I’ll never know if I made a smart choice or not.

It wasn’t very restful sleep and so maybe that’s part of feeling like I’ve been up for forever.

It’s my last full day here. I leave tomorrow afternoon and get back to Nebraska around 8:30 followed by an hour drive home. Thursday I have training at 10 in the morning. Friday I have a full day of work. Saturday I have training at 9:30 am.

I don’t want to leave. Which is sort of stupid because if I didn’t want to be here then why do I not want to leave? Why does it have to be confusing? Why can’t it be easy?

I miss Ox. I’ll miss my brothers once I’m gone. I’ll miss my nephew and coloring with him and hearing his voice asking me to read him bedtime stories while I struggle with knowing mom’s picture is on his dresser.

It sucks and I wish everything wasn’t a confliction or a contradiction within myself.

I’m sort of tired of not doing anything. I’m sort of tired of not having a car even though there’s nowhere I really want to go. I’m tired of not having my soap and conditioner; my familiar scents. I’m tired of not having a cat to cuddle with. I’m tired of feeling like I don’t have a purpose or a goal and the more I thought about this writing the more I wanted to figure something out, something more than what I have since I’ve been here.

It’s the 14th. It’s officially six months since Ox and I started coexisting together. Forever fiancees I think is what we jokingly agreed to not long ago. It’s officially been one month since my Warrior Dash. Five months since I’ve become a CCHT. I don’t know if any of that means anything or has significance.

I want to figure out what it will take to begin classes. I want that figured out by the end of the week. I want to know what paperwork I need to fill out and what the general process will be. I want to know, officially, if I can start classes next semester or if I’ll have to wait until spring. I think that’s something I need to do. I think it’s a realistic goal to set. It’s a goal I feel resistance to, but only because it’s easier to do nothing than something.

I know I’ve wanted to go back to school. I know LPN will give me more options in the immediate future. I know I could get into it faster than the RN program. Hell, I could finish LPN before I could even start RN.

I know LPN could be a stepping stone to other things and that I don’t have to stay as only an LPN if I don’t want to. It gives me options. It opens doorways. I know it can give me a starting point for talking with advisors. I know it’s a step towards something rather than staying where I’m at in life, in my career, in my funk of what feels like purposeless living.

So official “Life/Carrer” goals; research the LPN program in Beatrice. Begin the application process. Set up a meeting with advisors once research has been concluded to a point where a meeting would be productive.

I know the last one is a bit nebulous, but until I do a bit of digging there’s not really a point in meeting with someone, and since I don’t know what information is out there I can’t be sure when I will feel a meeting is appropriate. It’s something I’ll have to have faith with. I’ve done this enough times to know the difference between being ready and not ready. The biggest issue will be not procrastinating on a meeting once I feel I’m prepared.

I want schooling. Schooling would be good for me, on multiple levels. It’s most likely more harmful to myself to not pursue school than to work through the emotional and phycological discomfort of continuing to progress with my life.

I’m not going to worry about the Vascular Access Manager or the Perceptor training at work. If I pick away at it, cool. If I don’t, fine. I work full-time hours. I don’t have to do extra on the side if I don’t want to. If I feel like stopping in at the clinic after the gym, I’ll go for it, but it won’t be, and never was, an obligation. I’ve been proving myself enough by covering all of the different shifts I have been, by holding the clinic together through all of the float nurses who can’t legitimately help on the floor. I don’t need to get another certification or skills checklist added to my teammate file that will only increase my responsibility with no compensation in pay.

It would be better for me to put that energy into schooling. So if I do the extra work stuff, cool. If not, cool. Not an obligation and not something I should let negatively affect my emotional state or sense of self-worth.

That leaves the health area of my life to contend with. Aside from mom’s death and the relationship with Ox in the wake of mom’s death, I think this is the biggest area I’m struggling with.

I don’t have a goal. I don’t have a focus. I’m merely doing and even at that, I don’t think I’m doing much of a good job.

I started the personal training as a way to add structure and routine back into my life after my move. I didn’t have anything making me go to the gym. The meetings with my trainer gave me that. It gave me a level of accountability with what I did at home and what I ate since he tracks my weight much more than any other person has.

In a way it’s good. In another way, it’s annoying.

If you yourself have no goal, then it’s frustrating to feel like you’re letting people down over nothing. I didn’t meet THEIR goal, but I don’t care about their goal. I only care about mine, only I don’t have any, so there’s nothing to care about.

I don’t really know how to fix this because I still don’t have a goal. I don’t want to weigh a certain amount. I don’t want to be a certain size. I think setting my goal to “be more consistent” isn’t solid enough to actually work for me. I also can’t guarantee how work will go so I don’t want to set a quantifiable number for my workouts because what happens on the weeks where shit hits the fan and I can’t make it? Well, then I’m a failure and my goal is fucked.

Not really helping to build me up there, Brain. Thanks.

I want to care more. I like that I have more definition in my body. I like seeing the changes that have already been made. I like the way I feel when I drink enough water or eat enough protein. I like not being tired after work and feeling like I can actually go to the gym for a workout even though I’ve already walked six miles within the confines of the clinic. I like the level of stress relief working out gives me.

So why has it been so hard to actually do it?

If I like all of these things, if there are so many pros to going to the gym and eating right, then why do I skip workouts and cave in and eat donuts when they’re on the counter or skip my snacks? I know those actions are self-destructive and won’t make me feel better, so why do I do them?

To that, I honestly have no answer. But I’m aware that I’m making those choices and so on some level at least I can say I know there’s an issue and that in itself is a big step. Knowing there’s a problem means you’re able to look for a solution.

If only I knew how to solve it.

I guess part of it is feeling like I’m on my own, which, in reality, I am. I’m the only one at home trying to eat clean. I’m the only one trying to get to the gym. I need to accept that if I’m going to do it, then to just do it, and stop caring as much about what goes on around me. Just because Mama Ox buys pop tarts and other stuff doesn’t mean I can or should eat them.

Firstly, it’s not my food. Secondly, it goes against what I’m trying to do. I want to be healthy. That type of food is very obviously not healthy. If it’s so easy to pick up a pop tart, then I need to make it even easier to opt for a healthier option instead. I need to not run low on MY food. I need to have the snacks I want and NEED to combat whatever ease or temptation there is in the house.

I don’t live alone. It’s not fair of me to say “don’t buy those things”. If I lived alone it wouldn’t be an issue, but I don’t, so I have to live with it and find a way to work around it. Just because it’s there doesn’t mean it’s setting me up for failure. It means I have to care and be dedicated to myself enough to choose the better option, which lately I haven’t and that’s purely on me. Those are my choices not lining up with my priorities.

So… Quantifiable goal… getting down to 20% body fat in the next… two months. Two extra workouts a week, minimum, in addition to my training sessions. Aside from being sick or bodily harm to me or someone in my circle, there’s no reason good enough to not go to training. Sadness isn’t a good enough reason to not go.

It doesn’t have to be a super crazy workout. It could be yoga. It could be my bike ride. It could be rowing or running. It could be a single class at the dojo or the SCA combat practice. Doesn’t matter, as long as I do something extra, out of the house, away from the computer.

I’ve been writing at the kitchen table, but now everyone is back home from the grocery store and the TV is on and it’s hard to focus on writing, so I guess I’ll end here and let my thoughts and goals simmer for a bit.