Saturday, August 9, 2008

I feel like I have not written a really meaningful blog in a while. Today probably isn't the day to attempt it either. I have three exams next week and then this high stress class is over. Of course, a week and a half later the fall term starts and I delve into the second half of this high stress class, with a different instructor no less. Actually two different instructors, as I will have one instructor for the lecture portion of it and another instructor for the lab portion. But at least the class will move to Tues/Thurs and I can get back to belly dancing again.

Life has been good. My household is peaceful and bonded. Work is really good. I got a thank you card from the CEO of each division of Cooper Clinic (Craig Ranch and Preston Road) for emailng the marketing director with an idea I had. Not just a "thanks for the idea Ms. Transcriptionist Peon" note either, but a lengthy note from each of them commending me for the idea itself and for being forward thinking and for speaking up. Not too many companies these days welcome ideas from all levels of the corporate structure. Its days like that that make me hope they have a nursing opening when I get my degree, because the idea of going to work anywhere else seems insane. I have never known a company that is so respectful of and nurturing to its employees. There comes a point, if a fair and marketable wage is already being earned, that money is not the main driving motivator for a job. A feeling of contribution and importance often has trumped salary in surveys about job satisfaction. Cooper Clinic does both and I am happy there. Yesterday was a good day.

My therapy is difficult and I struggled with it this week. Its obviously helping me, because my inner sense of well being has been improving a lot. I am haunted by fewer flashbacks to Joseph's illness and the memories I have of that time are less disturbing and less aggressive. Meaning, when they do come to me, I do not get as pulled in by them. They don't suck my soul and take over my day, my psyche and leave me trembling, agonized, helplessly infuriated and lonely as I had been before. I can feel a touch of sadness but am more easily able to miss him in a healthy way rather than the feeling of having been hit by a truck and nothing will ever be right again and wishing I had died right alongside him, wishing that Cancer was a person so that I could put a gun to its head and blow its brains out with determined satisfaction for all it has done to destroy lives. The 5K planning and fundraising has been helpful too, but I don't think I would be able to do that if there was not some healing going on inside me. I am smiling more when thinking about him and feeling his presence in my soul more. I think Joseph would be glad for that. But the therapy is hard hard work. This week in particular it was difficult. I didn't want to go there. I didn't want to follow the mind pathway that took me back. I was feeling good, and going back there is a desperately frightening experience, partially just because crying like that is so far from my nature and so abhorrent to me, partially because I am enjoying not feeling so grief-stricken all the time. But I can't deny it is helping. If I have a compact, safe place to experience all of that and a way to then function better with my family and friends outside of it, then I suppose that is a good thing. I have honestly reached the point (finally, thank God) that I am ready to let go of the pain of his loss and keep only the sadness. I know I won't ever be able to fully let go of either one, but at least the urge to growl and strike at anyone who wants to take any part of any of it away from me has gone. The urge to put my fury over his loss into his place in my life is gone. I honestly do not know though if that is a moving target that shifts like water and sand, if that urge will come back at times, or if it is a slow, steady progress kind of thing and once it is under control will stay with me from here forward. I do not trust it to stay forever yet. The process of grief is a myriad of changing colors, a lava lamp of emotion. But I am hopeful it becomes softer in hue and slower in change, until perhaps in time it is just a steady, constant glow rather than a hot, boiling mass.I am feeling stronger. I don't know that I even realized how BAD I felt much of the time. I was so busy forcing myself to be okay. Putting the face of dignity forward because there is nothing I hate and fear more than being exposed. I am like an injured animal in those times, biting every hand that comes near, whether it means harm or help alike. But trembling inwardly and needing help so badly. Now I have days when I wake up and take that little internal assessment and realize there is nothing hidden beneath the surface or buried. That I really do feel good inside, through every level of my psyche and physicality, even when Joseph comes to mind. And the relief that floods me is akin to joy. The sense of honesty in it is profound. The sense of trust in it, trust in myself...I had not realized how much I didn't believe me, nor how hostile and angry that made me, to pretend to feel good and to then see the outside world accept and fall for what I put forward over and over again. I tied myself up. I would not have wanted the pity or acknowledgement even if it had been there. I would have been angry too for anyone to see below the exact surface of me as well, yet angry that they did not. This probably makes no sense to anyone who has not been there. I find it a little laughable too that I fear vulnerability and exposure so much, so deeply, yet I am an emotional exhibitionist on this blog on a regular basis. I guess the universe tends toward balance and has its outlets for achieving that. My little outlet of balance in the complicated knot of a person that is Sheri. A pressure valve and artistic version of my life. In a sense. Does that sound conceited?

I have a confession. I hate having to work so hard at school. I hate sustained effort. I am a short burst/big payoff kind of girl. Not something I am proud of. What I AM proud of is that I am now halfway through my prerequisites and I have finished one degree. For a person who has a hard time maintaining enthusiasm for a long-term project, I have been going to school for 20 years, and most consistently in effort for the past two. So I am learning things about me and learning to get out of my own way. Because I really do want this.

Time to skeedaddle. Lots to do today. I want to tell my friends that I love them. I think I have not communicated that enough in recent days. I am having to be necessarily scarce due to working on the above issues. But guys....gals....I love you. :) Hugs for all....

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