success

Daily Post 142: Tax Forms and Other Things

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Written yesterday. Posted today.

So… I feel like I have a lot to write about.

Yesterday ended up being a decent day even though it started with a rant about how horrible socializing is and how my day was falling apart around me. I felt mildly better after writing. Ox and I made plans to still go into town. I made my shopping list. Mama Ox spent a majority of the rest of the morning in her room so the immediate interaction I had with her when I woke up was pretty much the extent of it. Not having someone in the kitchen talking me to while I planned out the grocery trip helped ease the friction in my brain.

Ox came home to pick me up. As we drove into Lincoln it began snowing. We had a really nice lunch at Buffalo Wild Wings. I haven’t been there in a while since I liked my sports bar in Orlando so much more, but it’s an ok substitute. I got to have wings and a side salad since we were there early enough for the lunch menu.

After we ate we went across the street to do the shopping at Walmart. I got a small stockpile of seasoning packets since I’ve gone through all of the ones I had. I’ve been enjoying the GrillMates marinate packets for when I cook chicken. I also picked up rice to go with the bourbon chicken recipe I’m going to be making tomorrow.

Originally, the game plan was to cook the bourbon chicken for dinner last night, but since it’s a slow cooker recipe and we didn’t get home until close to 3 pm, we opted to save that for Thursday instead of waiting to eat dinner until 7ish.

Ox and I moved the insulation out of my dragon’s den together. Though no other work got done I was ok with the small progress we made. We also discussed the setup of the room more. We talked about building a custom bed frame so we can have drawers for our clothes. We also discussed furniture and have a better idea for dimensions and the spacing of things. We talked more about what will be going in the dragon den, which included my own twin sized mattress. I’m very much looking forward to having my own little corner of solitude.

I ended up cooking a dinner of BBQ chicken thighs with mashed potatoes and a side salad. It wasn’t a very complex meal but it was satisfying and filling and it seemed to go over well with everyone but Ox who isn’t a huge fan of chicken. He had a bowl of cereal for dinner instead but was content with it. At least he said that he liked it.

I got to cross stitch a bit last night, too. That, too, wasn’t a lot of progress, but some progress is better than none. I feel like I’ll get more done tomorrow while I’m sitting around waiting to pick up my car.

Anywho, that was about the extent of yesterday. It was a cold, snowy day that didn’t start anything like I thought it should have, but overall it turned out to be an ok day. I even put my clothes away and got Ox’s at least dried.

Today didn’t have a super awesome start. The snow as still coming down at 8 pm when Ox and I went to sleep. When we woke up there were about three or four inches of snow over everything, including my car. I spent time scrapping my windows, letting my car defrost the rest of the way as Ox and I had our morning cigarette together.

The drive to work was far from relaxing, but having my trip back to Lincoln from Fremont two weeks ago as a reference point, I can honestly say I’ve driven through worse. I left an hour early for work and pulled into the parking lot of the clinic on time. I drove 35 mph most of the way down. The roads sucked. There were no track marks from other cars that early in the morning. Most of the time, at least on Hickman Road, I didn’t even know where the center of the road was. Everything was ice and snow and sometimes there were black patches that looked like asphalt. Luckily there wasn’t a lot of oncoming traffic for that road, but it still wasn’t a cool feeling not knowing if I was too far over or not.

Right Brain: Doesn’t matter. I stayed on the road. Go me!

Highway 77 was a little better, but not by much. I was glad to pull into the clinic parking lot at the same time as my FA. The float RN called out due to the roads. She lives significantly further away from the clinic, and further north so she got more snow. With how crappy the drive was for the brief time I was on the road I totally don’t blame her for not coming in.

It was a pretty smooth day today at work. The tech in training is getting better. I know her first few days on her own is going to be overwhelming for her, but the only way for her to find her own flow is for me to not be there. I plan to take a serious step back on Friday. Essentially I’ll be there as a cheerleader. It’s going to be hard to not jump in and help. I’m not good at watching other people work.

We got her checked off on the few skills she needed to be observed performing. So yeah… after this week she’ll be a full-fledged Patient Care Technician. I think if she can get through the overwhelm of the first few weeks on her own that she’ll be fine. She needs to prove to herself that she can do it.

I had a bunch of emails at work today. Tax forms got posted, so I printed those. There were new emails about my leadership course, so I printed that information out. I have dates for all of the class meetings along with what our reading content will be. I plan to see if Audible has the books so I can listen to them while stitching. That would be super cool. I’m really looking forward to Emotional Intelligence 2.0. I want to jump straight to reading that one. Too bad that’s not until May or something like that. It’s one of the last books we’ll be reading for the class. So not cool. ;-;

I got to talk to my FA about taking time off in March to actually travel to Orlando to see my dad and stepsisters and Jon. She’s ok with me going so now I need to iron out the dates that will work for seeing everyone. It would be nice to see Warren #2 while I’m there and my home clinic teammates and my former coworkers at Full Sail. There’s Sir and Big Bad and my Blacksmith. There’s the potential to go to my old dojo and roll with the guys for a night or two. There’s a part of me who wishes I could see Mother Earth but I don’t know how to approach that aspect of my life just yet. I want to see my therapist, too, even if it’s only to give her a hug and to show her how amazingly well I have done since moving.

I know I won’t be able to do everything and see everyone. But at least I know there’s a possibility of it actually happening. The subject wasn’t immediately shot down. In fact, my FA wrote my tentative dates down and said if they changed to let her know. I can’t put into words how grateful, honored, and appreciative I am of her support. I feel like I matter to her as a person. I’m not just an asset. What I want matters and she tries really hard to make sure I’m happy and content both at work and in my personal life.

The new schedule for work came out today as well. That’s a big deal because our clinic will now have two techs, but we’re still only open three days a week. That means there are not enough hours for both of us to meet full-time requirements without covering at other clinics. We were told we would trade off weeks with our sister clinic in Lincoln. One week I would be in Beatrice, covering our three days, and the new tech would be in Lincoln. The next week she would be in Beatrice and I would be in Lincoln.

Neither of us wants to cover anything in Lincoln. XD

Well… with the new schedule, the first week I’m in Beatrice. Score. The second week I cover four days in a row at the Lincoln clinic. Boooooo. But, bright side, I’m either Census 1 or Census 2, which means I don’t have to stay until 9 pm to close the clinic. I’ll be one of the first people, if not the first person, to leave. Not a perfect situation since I still have to go to that particular clinic, but I’ll take it as an acceptable compromise. If I have to be there at least I’ll be out as fast as possible.

My FA also mentioned that she wants me to come to one of the regional FA meets that are held monthly. Sort of like how I sat in on the FHM meeting back in November I think it was. I’m very interested in seeing what those meetings are like. I don’t expect that I’ll contribute a lot, or that anything will really be expected of me. But with the push to have me become a preceptor for our clinic and my participation in the leadership course, our Regional Operations Director wants me to participate in one of these meetings. Like… He specifically spoke to my FA about having me attend.

Right Brain: No pressure or anything… brb while I go hyperventilate by myself in a corner… x.x

Apparently, there was talk about me become a regional float tech for the company since I’m so highly requested whenever there is a staff shortage. My FA told me about that today, too, and how she had vetoed that idea. Part of me is honored that my region as a whole feels like I would do well in a position like that. The other part of me is glad my FA told them no. I like where I’m at. I like knowing my schedule and having a clinic that’s “mine”. I like having “my” patients. I don’t mind picking up overtime every once in a while. I’m getting better at saying no; or at least saying, “I would rather not be the first pick if possible. If I’m the last resort, ok, but I really would like to be able to not have to cover that shift.”

It’s a weird feeling. I never thought I would be here when I started my own training as a dialysis technician. I didn’t even know if it was something I would be able to do. I knew for sure when I was in Orlando that I wouldn’t be able to maintain working 16 hour days. I admit to still having a hard time finding balance with the gym and dojo and school and life while working 12 hour days, but I think I’m more successful with it here in Nebraska then I ever could have hoped to have been in Florida.

I also have had so many more opportunities here to explore and branch out. Being the only tech in my clinic meant I had to step up and learn new things and cover more tasks. I don’t know… I just feel like I’m doing really well and that’s a weird feeling. I never thought about excelling or being a role model/trainer for other technicians. I just wanted to help people and to give my life some feeling of purpose because I didn’t have one when mom died.

I’ve come a long way and I feel good about that, but also sort of solemn and heavy because I wish I could share that with mom physically. I wish we could talk on the phone and I could hear her excitement and pride and happiness for me. Adult me knows she’s proud of me. Adult me knows she’s happy for me. But it would make my inner eight-year-old happy to the point of tears to actually hear it in her voice. To feel it in her hug. To see it in her smile.

Sometimes good things still suck and while I don’t think any of the positive stuff that’s happened for work really falls into the “sucks” category, it’s still tinged with this feeling of sadness because there’s still a part of me who wishes things were different.

So yeah, lots of stuff happened at work.

After work, I drove into Lincoln to drop my car off. Ox and I got dinner at Slim Chickens. They have pretty good salads. I was happy with a healthy dinner since I totally had a donut at work this morning. >.<;

We also stopped at GNC and got two more cases of Bang. Mornings can never be bad when I have that to wake up to. Maybe I should have focused on that yesterday morning rather than how I had to talk to people on my day off… something to keep in mind for next time.

Right Brain: Damnit! I have to talk to people… but at least I have a Cotten Candy Bang. All is still right in the world. : D

When we got home I printed out the other two tax forms I needed. One for the interest I’ve paid on my student loans along with one for my HSA account through work. I don’t know when I’ll actually file my taxes, but at least I have all the forms, that I know of, that I need.

And now I can feel accomplished because I’m at the end of writing. It’s pretty much bedtime, so I don’t think I’ll get to stitch at all, but I’m pretty sure I’m ok with that. I have all day tomorrow to be at home. I don’t have a whole lot of actual chores to do. I need to update my calendar with all of the new dates I have. I want to try to get in touch with my dad. I want to put the rest of the clothes away and cook dinner and other small things like that, but there’s not a whole lot in the way of obligations tomorrow. Really just dinner, which I did to myself, and picking up my car once it’s done.

I think tomorrow will be a good day. I’m looking forward to it.

Letters to Mom 012: The Pain of Success

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Hey, mom.

I passed my test. I’m smiling as I type that even as tears burn my eyes.

I feel like I should have written to you first, now that I’m actually sitting here and doing it. I feel like you still should have been the first person I told.

I messaged a bunch of people on my phone instead as I sat in class, waiting for the rest of my classmates to finish.

None of the questions I missed were lethal, so in theory, none of my patients died. Hooray for not killing anyone, right? I know you would laugh and agree with me if we were talking. I guess I have to make due with the feeling of you smiling at me.

I need to let you know that it hurts.

Doing well on my test hurts, and at first I didn’t understand why.

It didn’t hurt while I was in class. It didn’t hurt while I was at my sports bar trying to study more. It was something that slowly built throughout the day. It was something I became aware of as I told people about doing well. I told them and they said congratulations, and that they were happy for me, and more and more it felt empty.

I felt empty.

I felt incomplete.

This thing, this accomplishment, felt unfinished.

It felt like I was extending my hand to touch something, reaching for something, and my fingertips would touch nothingness. Emptiness. There was a lack of something, a missing, when in the past there had been warmth and “something”.

A connection.

A completion.

I did well, and I told you, so it was 100% done. It was real. It was over.

Finishing the test and having it graded wasn’t really the end. Walking across the stage at graduation wasn’t the final act. Every accomplishment I ever achieved ended with telling you. It ended with a phone call, or a text message, or a hug, or a celebration trip to Moe’s.

I didn’t have that feeling of “done-ness” before I sat down to write to you. There wasn’t that sense of closure that I’m used to, and so passing my test felt undone.

I had “succeed” but it didn’t feel real.

I hadn’t told you so it wasn’t real.

I can’t call anymore. After almost a year I think I’m finally starting to find peace with that. I’m starting to understand that just because I can’t call doesn’t mean I can’t talk to you. It doesn’t mean I can’t tell you.

I can write, and even though it’s different, I think it will, and is, helping me.

I know you are proud of me. I know that you’re happy for me.

Thank you for making me who I am. You’re part of the reason I did so well. You’re part of the reason I went online and looked up information and studied as much as I did. You’re part of the reason I got a 92 when everyone else got the 80s and 40s.

You’re part of the reason I’m successful and without telling you thank you, without telling you “Look at what you helped me achieve” it feels incomplete because it wasn’t just me.

It’s never been “just me”.

It will never be “just me”.

Thank you.

At first, I was worried about the pain I felt. The pain of my success.

I sat alone at the park again and felt this feeling of incompletion and wondered if this was what every success would feel like from now on.

Is this what my first job is going to feel like? Is this what my first board test is going to feel like? Is this what the rest of every achievement is going to feel like?

What’s the point if it is? What’s the point in achieving if all I feel from it is pain in the end? Why be that much of a masochist to myself?

But sitting here, writing to you and telling you that I did it, that I did well, that all of the worry was worth it because it made me push myself and resulted in what I wanted, it makes it feel complete. It makes it feel real and worth it.

I did it, Mom. I did well on a test I was really worried about and because I did I’m so much more calm about my board test on Friday.

I guess it helps that while I was sitting outside, once again smoking, that I got a call from the hospital. It was about the patient transporter position that I applied for.

I had a really open, honest, and real conversation with the recruitment manager. We talked about what I want and what I’m hoping for. She was very honest about the other positions I’ve applied for and gave me numbers to work with.

She’s going to move my application forward so I can be set up for an interview.

I may have a part-time job soon, mom.

All of the applications I have sent in so far have been moved to “initial review” actually. I’m being considered. My contact at the hospital allowed me to use him as one of my manager references as well, so that’s even better. All of the jobs I’ve had count as customer service, so that’s an added boost that I can edit my resume with in the future. And part of the conversation was the lady admitting that once I’m in the hospital, especially as a transporter where I’ll get exposure to literally every area of the hospital, that it’s easy to move to other positions if I wanted to.

It’s like you’re looking over me and giving me those boosts I need when I start questioning why.

Why do it?

Because it’s worth it. Because I did it and I’m moving forward in the direction I want and that phone call is proof that I’m actually moving forward.

I really do wonder if you didn’t have something to do with me getting that phone call when I did. It came today, now, while I was feeling lost. It didn’t come yesterday when I was mostly ok. It didn’t come tomorrow. It came today. Now. When I needed it.

I don’t know if it really was you or just happenstance, and I honestly don’t care how the universe works or doesn’t work. I want to think that it was you and that this is your way of celebrating with me.

We can’t go out to Moe’s together, but we can move forward together because you’re one of the reasons I’m able to move forward.

Success is painful right now. It might always be painful. A bittersweet feeling. I think it’s going to be something else I have to adjust to.

I don’t feel I have achieved much as far as career milestones since you died.

I’ve made it through a lot of really hard times. I’ve tackled a lot of really hard things. I’ve “done” stuff, and have “achieved” but this success, this achievement, is different. This is something new to adjust to.

This is a new sensation that I have to experience, process, analyze, and ultimately accept.

I think a big part of accepting success is finding a new ritual to signify the completion of my goals.

My ritual used to be calling you. Telling you. Sharing with you.

I can’t do that the way I used to anymore.

I can, however, write to you. I can still tell you. I can still share with you the feelings of relief, confidence, gratitude, and pride.

I can still communicate all of it, just through a different medium. I can still reach out and touch that warm intangible thing that was always there in the past because it’s still there.

I can still reach out and touch you. I can still feel you. I can allow myself to know and accept that you’re still with me and that you really will love me for forever and for always and that not even death will keep us apart.

Death CAN’T keep us apart.

I won’t let it, and maybe writing that for the Internet to read makes me sound mentally unstable but fuck it, I’m going to write it because this is my letter to you, not to the Internet.

I love you, mom. Thank you, so much, for being here for me still. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for being my mom.

You taught me that the pain of failure isn’t bad. It’s a learning experience. It helps make me better.

I guess I never thought there would ever be a point where there would be pain in success, but now there is, and this pain, too, is a learning experience.

All of these experiences I’ve had, the ones while you were in the hospital and the ones I’ve had since you died, they aren’t experiences I ever expected or wanted to go through. If the choice were “learn these things or have your mom” I would always choose to have you.

But it wasn’t a choice. At least, it wasn’t MY choice.

This is my life, and in my life I have to learn these lessons.

I understand now that success can and will be painful. But that’s ok. Pain isn’t inherently bad.

Today is still a good day even though my grief is doing its thing. I don’t know what to call it. “Flaring up” sounds overly dramatic and reminiscent of high school. It makes me feel like I’m over reacting.

My grief is at the forefront of my mind at the moment, though. It’s filling my chest and it’s hard to see people walking down the sidewalk, driving in their cars, talking on their phones, while this overwhelming hurt is inside me.

How can the rest of the world keep going while I feel all of this in this single moment? How is the rest of the world not sharing in my pain? How can they not know what this feels like and function and breathe as if everything is normal when it’s not?

Compassion means to co-suffer.

How is the world not co-suffering with me when this is the only thing my mind can focus on, the only thing my whole being can feel?

I still don’t understand it. Not fully. Grief and grieving. There was a wave of it in my chest earlier, but now, sitting here, tears drying on my cheeks, I feel calmer and as if the biggest part of the wave has passed. It’s not gripping me anymore. It’s not threatening to consume me anymore.

It’s there, my grief. I can feel it. I know it’s still in me and that it always will be, but it’s calmer in this moment and a lot of that has to do with writing to you.

I’m about to go to the dojo to train. I had thought about skipping, something I promised myself I wouldn’t do, but right now it seems easier to go.

I want to go.

It’s not another overwhelming thing where I question “What’s the point?”

The point is because it’s worth.

The point is I train because you died.

I’m still not completely sure what the sentence means to me, but I know it’s the truth and I know it’s a new cornerstone to who I am.

I’m me because you lived. I’m me because you died.

I’m your daughter and that’s why I do the things I do. That’s why I feel the way I feel. That’s why I want the things I want.

Thank you, mom. Thank you for still being with me.

I love you. For forever and for always.