Music

Music seems to say what I can't.  One of my favorite albums of all time is "Grace" by Jeff Buckley.  He was an amazing artist and died way too young, but here's one of my favorite songs.  He inspires me to write.

Lover, You Should've Come Over

Looking out the door i see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners
Parading in a wake of sad relations as their shoes fill up with water

And maybe i'm too young to keep good love from going wrong
 
But tonight you're on my mind so you never know

When i'm broken down and hungry for your love with no way to feed it
Where are you tonight, child you know how much i need it
 

Too young to hold on and too old to just break free and run 

Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun
And much too blind to see the damage he's done
Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one
So i'll wait for you... and i'll burn
 Will I ever see your sweet return
Oh will I ever learn
Oh lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late

Lonely is the room, the bed is made, the open window lets the rain in
Burning in the corner is the only one who dreams he had you with him
 

My body turns and yearns for a sleep that will never come
It's never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder
It's never over, all my riches for her smiles when i slept so soft against her
It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
It's never over, she's the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

Well maybe i'm just too young
To keep good love from going wrong Oh... lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late
Well I feel too young to hold on
And i'm much too old to break free and run
 
Too deaf, dumb, and blind to see the damage i've done
Sweet lover, you should've come over
 

Oh, love well i'm waiting for you Lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late 

Faith & Trust

Disclaimer:  I do count my blessings and know that He is in control.  But it's natural to have these thoughts running around.  They happen frequently, but I know to stop, breathe, and look to God for understanding, wisdom, and peace.

I've had so much time to think.


You always wonder what you did wrong.

Loaded questions are endless...

Why did life turn out like this?

     Why didn't I ever want -or dream about- marriage                  or kids (before)? 

                 Why am I so self-sabotaging when it comes to relationships? 

          

                                         What *exactly* makes me unattractive, besides the weight? 

...

There are a thousand answers (right & wrong) and it could be anything.

I get the part that childhood plays; the psychological effects of bad parenting, traumatic events that occur in your adolescent life, friends and peer pressure.  It's a multifaceted environment that's not so easily understood, unique to the individual.  Though at every event, someone's been there to help bring me through, to throw out a lifesaver when I was in need.  Life is pain, yet by choice, if you allow yourself, you can see that the good days are worth waiting for, worth surviving for.  Most of us figure that around the age of 30.

I watched a sermon last week that reminded me that confidence cannot be taken nor robbed from you.  It must be given away by you and lost by your own doing.  It reminded me that having faith in the one that made me was as important as trusting that He would also carry me through this phase of my life and that I could be confident.  Faith was described as the practical outward expression of confidence in God.  Trust was the ability to continually have trust even when tried.  Faith and Trust.

The visual aid was a chair.  You usually have faith in a chair.  It's ability to hold you doesn't really come to mind and you sit with confidence.  BUT, if it breaks (for whatever reason) will you just not sit in chairs again?  Or will you understand that that broken chair doesn't represent all chairs?  

If my heart is broken once, will I avoid all relationships?  If I have a car accident, does it mean I quit driving?  If my dance partner drops me, will I not dance with him again?  Well, the last one.... lol. 

If I'm hit by a hit&run driver and am paralyzed from the waist down, will I lose my trust in God? 

No.

For me it is that simple.   The reason being that internally, I feel better than before.  My soul, my spirit have been restored.  Externally I'm broken, but the inside is strong.  How are you internally?  I was broken, though it wasn't visible.  As much as I miss my life prior to injury, I don't think I would change this.  (But something less traumatic would've been okay, right? lol)  ::sigh::

The following is easy to say, yet not an easy perspective to have in the midst of a storm:

"Don't tell God you've got a big problem,

tell your problems you've got a big God.".

.

ZZZzzZzzzZZzzz (Z) is for Sleep

My Coworker used to say, "My kingdom for sleep..."  I think we all feel that way sometimes, especially those of you with kiddies.

Two nights ago I watched a documentary about sleep, more like the lack of it, with respect to the movie production industry.  On set people work 15-18 hour days on average and as usual, it took the death of a director for people to stand up and demand 12 hour maximum days, at least within the U.S..  Europeans innately understand the idea and principal of rest, and therefore have conflicts with U.S. production crews when they film abroad with their "you can sleep when you're dead" attitude.  I guess you can hide overtime in a budget, but not extra days.

A medical team performed a sleep-study and the effects of sufficient/insufficient sleep on the brain.  It's funny to think that humans are the only beings on Earth that try to fight sleep.  All other creatures sleep when they're tired. Hmmm.  While watching the documentary I flashbacked  to the past; driving when I was ridiculously tired, the missing of freeway exits, seeing things that weren't there, etc.   I read an article that stated that being awake for 18 hours was equivalent to having a blood alcohol content (b.a.c.) level of 0.7, and being up for 24 hours was equivalent to a b.a.c. of 1.0. (drunk).  Now imagine working or driving like that? (http://moneywatch.bnet.com/career-advice/article/sleep-well-and-prosper/275734/)

In a hospital, you don't sleep much either.  I was hospitalized from 12/25/08-4/3/09 and I didn't sleep a full night the entire time.  Funny how they want you to rest, but wake you up every other hour.  I was woken up every 2 hours at night to be turned (just to prevent pressure wounds/bed sores), and woken up every day @ 5:30 a.m. to get bathed, and if not then, then at 6:00 a.m. to take meds.  Everyday in rehab was a barrage of physical/occupational therapy.  Free time was me getting in and out of bed, changing clothes, and getting my brace on and off.  I had a few moments on Sundays to just rest and visit with friends.

Now I can sleep about 6 hours straight unless I have to empty my bladder or turn myself.  I'm still a night owl, but can sleep in a little more these days.

But oh, my kingdom for sleep.  Do you feel me?

and...
HAPPY 40TH ANNIVERSARY TO SESAME STREET!

Constant Adjustment

I'm unsure why, but I'm only inspired to write when I'm in agony and am compelled to write in order to keep everybody up to date with my progress.  In the end, I always feel better after jotting it down.  

Last night, Halloween, my brother had friends over in the evening for a potluck.  No one was really expected to dress up, yet some did, even the pets. lol.  My brother's dog is like family, so their friends also brought their "kids"....a.k.a. pets.  Halloween allows us to be someone we're not during the other 364 days of the year, so in the spirit of dressing up, all I could really do was my makeup a little more extravagant, and a little more orange.  As I finished up I was looking for my false eyelashes and remembered that I had about 20 in my room up stairs.  I asked my mom to bring my camera to photograph the room in order for me to tell her where to look.

When I saw the photos, I snapped for some reason.  They triggered me emotionally into a state of anger.  Anger about my situation in general.  I went from having a room to living in the former living room downstairs.  This was due to the accessibility issue.  Our house has 2 flights of stairs that I cannot ascend and we've been sloooowly making this as much of a living area as possible.  It's reminiscent of a Manhattan  apartment....small.  (At least, there's no room mates.)

Thankfully there's a wooden floor that's easy to roll around on.  As far as furniture goes, I've got a hospital bed w/ a trapeze for me to grab on to, my brother's old desk-so that I could work and do bills, and some basic necessities, you know, a  microwave, mini fridge, and a toaster.  An old kitchen table from the garage serves as extra work space or a table so people can eat with me.  The old wall unit was converted from holding dvds, books, and memorabilia, to a storage area for my clothes, medical supplies, food, and some of my books and miscellaneous items.  I don't have any drawers yet (7 months later).

I have difficult reaching things that are too high or too low, so every bit of space counts and I'm really anxious to make this work because every day that it doesn't reminds me of how much my situations sucks.  I feel like I've been uprooted and imprisoned into a life which I did not expect.  My room upstairs never seemed so far and to see the pictures really bothered me.  My family has slowly been doing the "let's clean up and put the stuff in her room for now until we can figure what to do with it" thing so it's slowly becoming a room of crap AGAIN.  GOD, just get rid of the stuff, we live down the street from a Goodwill for crying out loud.  How much easier does it have to get?   We're not going to break apart the puzzles to do them again....He-LOOOO!

Then nobody could find my bag of eyelashes and I can't recall if I took them down to storage or not.  I just want to ransack my room, AND I CAN'T.  I want to rummage through my drawers AND I CAN'T.  What really bothers me is that I have to wait on people to help me, and I want to do things NOW.  Only when I get really upset does my family stop and help me.  I don't like being upset, it's annoying, and I hate whiny people.  Ugh.  Frequently I want to pick stuff up and chuck it across the room so that it's utterly destroyed, then realize that I'd need help to clean it up.  Then I get really fired up and have to pray to God for His peace and understanding.

I miss privacy and quiet.  I stay up pretty late to enjoy the quiet wee hours of the night.  Right outside of the  sliding glass door is our abnormally loud beast of an a/c unit which makes it difficult to hear the t.v. or read.  Above my area is the kitchen, so there's constant clanging, dish washing, newspaper rustling, and foot traffic.  At the top of the stairs, next to the kitchen, is my brother's t.v. which can get loud when it's on (stupid commercial audio levels), or when he's playing video games.  It's like dueling banjos and it seems like I'm the only one cautious and respectful enough to adjust my volume in case it's too loud.  Our house is pretty open so I can hear pretty much everything.....everything....EVERYTHING.  I smell when the refrigerator is open, I hear my brother's dog run around, I smell the air as it spirals around the house when any doors are opened.

The cherry on top last night was my brother fighting with mom.  He was upset about something she had misplaced and was trying to get her to understand the point he wanted to make.  Have you ever poked a bear with a short stick?  It was the wrong time to upset her.  It was late, she was tired, and she had to help me into bed.  I haven't heard mom yell like that since I was in high school.  I wanted to tell him to shut the "F" up and leave her alone.  Make your point later!  Right now, feelings are settling down and it'll be brought up sooner or later because as much as you're upset with mom you can't just keep pissing her off hoping to get somewhere.  


........sigh........

I miss being able to take refuge in the quiet recesses of my room.  No noise, no cooking, no dogs, no overheard conversations.  Just me, the kitties, a glass of water, and quiet. 

If I could just make it there....

I find peace and solace in prayer, in the Bible, in music, and in my dreams, where I walk, dance, laugh, and am free.