4am poop

life lately... has been different for me. and by different i mean lonely, isolated, and very tiring.

i'm listening to the wind howl outside, blowing high-pitched cold air through a tiny breach in the window i'm sitting next to. i'm picturing a leaf outside getting tossed around by the wind, bouncing to and fro, getting stuck on a bush or against the tire of a car. It travels along without decision, at the mercy of whatever direction the wind says it will go.

i am this little leaf. i feel i've been bouncing around life with no direction of my own and little purpose behind it. i bump into things, apprehended by random objects in my path, released only when the circumstance around me shifts and i'm free to aimlessly toss around again. i move without thought or feeling at a pace i don't control and then wonder how i ended up in a place i never thought i'd be.

this 'little leaf' scenario comes as a result of a lot of change in my life. my beloved family moved away. my husband is in a relentless nursing program. i work at night in a job i'm tolerating long enough to figure out where i'm really meant to be and how i'm going to get there. my body is in a constant state of exhaustion; i've done the math and i'm missing literally DAYS worth of sleep.

none of this is meant to sound like a complaint, AT ALL. because i have countless reasons to be thankful and have joy in the midst of this weird phase of my life. but i'm starting to recognize these changes as part of the course that led me to where i am right now: lonely, isolated, and very tired.

and you know what else? side note here... i think i'm bored! i think i'm SO bored! i used to love to work out and be active, walk my dog, read, i even used to write more often. but i function in such a low-energy state that i never feel motivated to do much of anything. hahaha... it makes me think of a conversation i had with my dear friend jenna. she's also a nurse and recently finished a 6 week stint of night shift. she was telling me how much it messed up her life for those 6 weeks... it was hard on her relationship, threw a major wrench in her normally healthy diet and exercise regimen... she said she didn't know when to eat or sleep, that her body was so out of whack. i told her my body still doesn't even know when to take a shit! haha and that's when she said she woke up the other day at 4am to poop! it was so funny, and such a relief to hear that i'm not the only one finding it difficult to keep people alive during the hours of 7pm and 7am three days a week while maintaining an otherwise healthy and active lifestyle!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

sorry... got a little carried away there. the vessels in my neck were definitely bulging as i was typing/yelling that out. my point is that this sucks right now.

and i miss myself.

just had a random moment with God... which, now that I think about it, random and God probably never belong in the same sentence.

but anyway, today i saw a post on facebook from a woman i went to nursing school with. she asked "will the anxiety about going to work ever go away?". I replied with "mine hasn't yet" and the corresponding sad smiley face. Because even with my new job, i still feel anxious about my job, i still question if it's right for me, i still question a slew of things about it all.

so i was sitting here staring at the football on TV, looking right at it but looking right through it at the same time. thoughts, doubts... swirling around in my head, tomorrow night approaching with the accompanying angst following right after. and then God, in all His mercy, interrupted me and I realized something. He has me here. Like, RIGHT here. For a reason. For some reason, this is the place for me because He wants it to be. And that just has to be enough. It IS enough.

That was all I needed to feel hope again. I feel strong enough to do this job. I feel like He will get me through. I feel like I'm going to learn, and it will be okay. Whatever it is, it will be okay.

I love when He interrupts me. What He has to say is always waaaay better.

liberated

wow.

i didn't anticipate it feeling THIS good. i mean, i knew i suffered from workplace dissatisfaction, but i didn't realize it would feel so amazing to be freed from it. i lost count of how many people were encouraging me, telling me it was good for me to leave, saying they were jealous and begging me to take them with me. i had numerous phone numbers shoved into my pocket (and not in a very cool, i'm a pimp gettin digits way), but in a desperate, call if there are any openings way. it was bittersweet because it validated my decision to depart, but i also felt sad that things are so unpleasant that literally EVERYONE would love to the leave if they were able.

i'm thankful God made me able to leave. i'm thankful for the hope of something better.

k once again i had allllll these things i wanted to say, but my lack of sleep + the celebratory beer i'm enjoying are making it really difficult to think.

:D

WE HAD SUCH A GOOD VACATION.

Of course you can't really go wrong with family, excellent weather, ocean, sand, sports, and a few "alone time" nights in a hotel with your spouse. But man, we had a great vacation.

Although we enjoyed 6 days of all the above and more, those are not the only reasons it was so great. Freddie and I finally got to connect again. And whaddya know?! It appears that being in the same place at the same time for an extended length of time is good for a marriage. We laughed, ate, drank, explored, and dreamed together for hours and hours. The last 6 months or so have been pretty trying for us with the schedule changes, Freddie's difficult school program, me hating my job, and family moving out of state. We've had minimal time to be together, which sucks balls! (and not in a good way). I think it's safe to say we both feel rejuvenated and as ready as can be for the next round: second semester of nursing school and me starting a brand new job.

Sorry everyone, this blog is soo not creative or eloquent because I'm really getting sleepy (one of those nights I'm flipping back to a night schedule). I had a few things I wanted to say while I was doing the dishes just a bit ago, but now that I've sat down my brain is slowing to a speed that's not efficient enough for assembling eloquent expression. (Although didn't I just use some writing technique when you have a series of words that all start with the same sound?). Hm... can't think of the name... must be at a higher brain speed than the one I'm operating on at the moment.

Anywho! Good night all.

You're a little bit of a chicken

"You're a little bit of a chicken."

Those are the words that pierced my heart and just about struck me dead a few days ago. They were spoken to me by my husband, the one who knows me best. OUCH.

On top of that, I knew he was right. Even as I type this my eyes get hot with tears as I muster up the humility and courage to say it out loud. This is truly something of a disturbance to me.

You see, I NEVER used to be a chicken. I was the kid who climbed to the very top branch of the tree at a shockingly young age, totally unphased by the small people yelling at the bottom telling me to come down. I used to be the kid who rode the front seat of the rollercoaster with my hands up the whole time and didn't even blink. The last time I rode a rollercoaster I was 24 and I cried when I got off. :( I was ACTUALLY frightened. What the heck happened to me??

The other thing that hurt when he said it is... I know what "happened" to me. I know it sounds stupid or insignificant, but once he said it I knew: the shooting. I can't explain it. I can't make it make sense to myself. But that event in my life jacked me up good, and I cannot seem to shake it. I live with a fear I didn't have before. I live with a hefty lack of trust in people, strangers really. I know I wasn't the one who was shot, so to have this kind of fear is irrational, I'm sure. (which is why I previously said I can't make sense of it). All I know is that it changed the way I view things. I no longer feel invincible. I don't like the feeling of free-falling. I don't like heights. I don't like being in public places that I couldn't easily get out of. I used to want to go skydiving. Ha. You bet your ass that's out the window (pun intended??). That just sounds utterly terrifying to me now and I'm almost 100% sure I would turn into a babbling idiot before leaving the runway. I don't like running outside with my ipod on full-blast. I don't even like flying anymore, period. Sadly, the list goes on. . .

My sadness in this situation does not come from the fact that now I'm not much of a rollercoaster girl or that I can't enjoy an invigorating run outside without my mase poised and ready. My sadness comes from knowing that something's been taken away. . . my freedom. The fear has me by the balls, and it pisses me off.

WELL I WANT IT BACK.

First step: frickin' get out there! I suggested to Freddie that we do something "adventurous" during our vacation. Although skydiving came up, I avoided it like a little pansy and we settled on bungee jumping. Baby steps, I thought. . . baby steps. :/

So I guess we'll see how it goes. I don't want to live afraid. I want to let go. I kinda want to lose some inhibitions. Wait. Let me rephrase that. I REALLY WANT TO LOSE SOME INHIBITIONS. Any suggestions? Let's make 'em legal, people. Remember baby steps.

That's me for now.

peace and love,

melody

p.s.

I love you, whoever is reading this. I love you because He does. Don't let that knowledge escape you for even a moment.

<3

it's been too long, blog, too long. sorry for the absence.

it's 4:58 am right now, I've been up for 1 hour. insomnia is really frustrating!!! i'm really praying i can get a job that's on a daytime schedule so that I can sleep for longer than 4-5 hours without pharmacological assistance (i.e. benadryl/melatonin cocktail).

that sort of introduces this post. to make a long story short, I've been on a night schedule for 5-6 months now ever since I switched units at work back in February. It was really rough at first but then I sort of got used to it and I was learning a lot, I was challenged but not overwhelmed, and I decided to stick to night shift even though I had the opportunity to go to days. That's basically when everything went downhill...

Work has been especially difficult due to some serious budget cuts. We're overworked x1000. If we can't perform the list of duties expected before it's time to clock out, we get written up. By the way, this list is extensive and we have minimal help. It's pretty much a miserable place to be.

This has all been really hard to deal with. Lately I've questioned whether nursing was right for me, I've questioned whether it's right for Freddie. It has kind of shaken everything we've been working so hard for over the last 6-7 years! Plus, the sleep deprivation is really, really catching up to me. I've been really down on myself because I feel like a bum when I sleep all day. The sleep I get is never enough, it's interrupted and unnatural, and most days I wake up groggy and I never feel rested. The first few months were okay, but I'm suffering the consequences now...

My house is a mess and it's super frustrating. I can never seem to stay ahead of the laundry, the furry stuff growing in all our toilets, the carpet that desperately needs contact with a Jason Bourne-style vacuum cleaner. I'm disorganized and I have no real routine or schedule. And don't even get me started on what it's done to my, er, libido. (sorry if you're reading this, dad).

For a while there I was running 4 or 5 times a week because I'v decided to run the half marathon in December. It was definitely helping but soon this caught up with me, too. I learned that running on days that I work resulted in a sore throat and body aches by the end of my work week, which meant I had to take a few days off of working out all together to avoid illness. It was just too much exertion without enough rest. I spend a lot of effort trying to read my body cues and allowing myself, giving myself permission to sleep if I need to sleep. Freddie gets mad at me because he says I'm too hard on myself when I'm frustrated for "sleeping the day away". It sucks, though. When you feel like the life is sucked out of you for 3 days you want to steal it back by having fun, by having a life when you're off, not by sleeping until noon. :(

Anyway, this is something I'm working on finding a solution to. I know God knows of my unhappiness. I know He knows our financial needs. I know He will take care of me.

i guess tonight i'd cry, if i thought it would help.

i am so full of frustration right now, i'm so angry with the situation. i feel utterly helpless. i feel such sadness. i feel total exasperation.

i want to scream, but i know it wouldn't do any good. it wouldn't change anything.

there is nothing i can say, nothing i can do to make it better. i can only sit here and try to convince myself that in the end everything will be okay.

have you ever witnessed true hopelessness?

i know what it is to be brokenhearted. rejected. depressed. consumed with fear and anxiety. but i cannot say that i have ever experienced hopelessness. all i can figure is that knowing Jesus has kept me from reaching that point - that place where there is no light, no solution, no relief, and no reason to believe any of these things are coming to find you. how thankful i am for never feeling this.

recently i have seen what hopelessness looks like. from an outsider looking in i would say it's like being buried alive in a very small coffin. just thinking about it literally makes my throat feel like it is closing in on me. i'm sitting in my kitchen and yet claustrophobia encasing me. i actually want to run out into the street, put my hands on my knees and gasp for air. if i had a bra on i would probably do it just to alleviate this oppressive, need-more-air sensation.

i've watched this hopelessness cut the air supply to someone recently. when you have no hope, you have no reason for anything. a person with hope would probably scratch and claw at the coffin and at least try to escape their impending doom. but the hopeless don't care. and to me, not caring is so dangerous for us humans.

so i'm lying in bed in our hotel room in san diego at 04:49 (can't sleep of course) when God is like BAM! [insert image of God looking down at me dressed as Emeril Legasse here]... oops... dad's awake, to be continued...

pray for it. then buckle your seat belt.

lately i've been thinking a lot about dreams. not the ones where you fall asleep and wake up to find you've gone to school naked or that you're being chased by a bad guy and you can't run or scream. i'm talking about the dreams you create as a child when you still believed what all the grown ups said - that you really could do anything you put your mind to. remember the days when we wanted to be astronauts? or dolphin trainers? maybe fashion designers? it all seemed so simple, so possible. i loved playing the game LIFE. at the draw of a few cards you could be a harvard-educated marine biologist with 2.5 kids, own a mansion and win the nobel peace prize well before retirement age. i think at the time i truly believed that someday it would all come true. i thought that life is happy and easy and sweet, that the cards i'd draw would all be good and lead to a blissful, successful, happily ever after.

the point of this is not to rant about how WRONG i was and that at some point i got a frickin' clue as to how the world really works. though i was young, innocent, and so wonderfully ignorant, i actually think i was on to something. at what point did we stop believing that extraordinary things happen to ordinary people? when did "when i grow up i want to be..." stop being the thesis of our lives? now we're all grown up, paying the mortgage, filing our taxes, being the responsible, contributing members of society we were raised to be. i'm just wondering where the awesome ability to dream got lost in all that sensible growing up we did.

the truth be told, i don't really care if i ever win a nobel peace prize, and i certainly could do without a mansion. but when i'm feeling really brave and i set my skepticism aside, my dreams meekly peek themselves back into view. they look like long-lost friends who i knew once-upon-a-time. they stand in front of me with excitement, and yet they're a little nervous that fear of getting my hopes up will send them packing once again.

tonight i spent some time in the ER of my work with my mom who hurt her wrist. i was discussing this whole setting skepticism aside thing and allowing myself to imagine that sometimes dreams really do come true. she happens to be a very huge fan of my dreams, and she's a bit of a dreamer herself. my mom is also a huge believer that we worship an amazingly powerful God who can make any dream come true if He wants to. her words "pray for it, then buckle your seat belt" sent electricity over my skin, resuscitating my dreams as if they'd been lying dead on the table next to us. i instantly felt alive with hope that dreams really do come true, and not just anyone's generic, house and 2 kids kinda dreams, but MY specific, detailed, there-for-a-reason, with-God-all-things-are-possible dreams. 

let's just say my seat belt is fastened.

if i have a bat in the cave, at least you can't see it

writing for me is and always has been an outlet.  i'm a bit shy in my own ways and i'm not much of a spotlight kinda girl.  but when you write it's like you get to talk to a room full of people without them staring at you while you do it.  you can say what you're really feeling without the sweaty armpits and the wondering if you have a bat in the cave that the front row is watching flap back and forth. in 5th grade my teacher mr. keairnes wrote in the margins of all my short stories, poems, book reports... telling how much he loved my "writing".  when i recently ran into him a few weeks ago he said "ya know melody, i always thought you'd grow up to be a writer".  i couldn't help but feel like i'd let him down a little bit, and i couldn't help but agree with him.

so that brings me to today.  my little sister katie said she'd been blogging and that it was a neat way to share herself to... who knows who... that she was finding it felt good to document various thoughts, feelings, small and seemingly insignificant happenings of every day life.  my older sister is a gifted writer, as in, she has things published and has been paid to write stuff for legit magazines and publications.  so it's no surprise that every time i read her blog i feel like my mouth is hanging open in awe of the combinations of words her mind puts together... little intimidating to think about when generating a blog of my own. nonetheless, here i am. I won't feel bad if your mouth doesn't hang open when you read, unless maybe it means you've fallen asleep and now there's a little puddle of drool about to spill out and over your lip cuz, well that's just gross. go to bed.