No, no, you DON'T feel safer in the dark

For some reason I thought that when I heard the sounds outside that I would feel safer if my lights were off. Initially it was so I could see out my window and other's not in. I am upstairs in my apartment, my desk is in front of the sliding glass patio doors that face the parking lot. I can (could - it stopped now) hear someone repeatedly knocking on someone's door (my neighbors I presume) swearing and saying, "I hate you!" Now it wasn't shouting, just yelling. 

But I turned off my light and couldn't see anything - probably because, well, the patio is right there. I went downstairs to make sure the front door was locked - because I am super paranoid and just in case it was my door being knocked on (by all of those people who even know where I live? of the handful of people I even know in Portland, and of those the ones that would search me out on a Friday night because they hate me so? PARANOID). Then I came upstairs and to get a better look outside I had turned off both my desk and the room light - then I turned off the hall light. 

Pitch black. 

Hmmm. Not feeling safer. No reason to feel unsafe but if there was, that didn't help.

Did I mention that almsot all of my walls are glass? Okay one full wall in each room. The living room? Literally floor to ceiling sliding glass doors (I have higher ceilings than your average apartment - it's a town home). 

Perhaps writing this was just a further attempt to avoid studying. I studied for roughly 18 hours yesterday and a few today already. Sigh. 

But no one is taking that midterm for me, are they? 

Are they?

Out of Touch

I seem to have disappeared off any and all social scenes. I have been burying my head in books lately. Which has been much needed.

 I made myself sick from stress - I am so skilled! I realize that comparatively I have nothing to stress over. Nonetheless I need to learn to manage it better because it is manifesting physically. I went to this amazing chiropractor - he runs a local pain clinic. I hadn't been sleeping because I was in too much pain and he talked with me and we worked on things to help.

 I need to really start working on my head and heart - on my breathing as well. That should help. I think in part it is that everything feels like it is in such a state of dissaray. My house is a wreck and I know that cleaning my house is sort of like washing out my brain and soul. It creates more space. Sometime between studying and, well, studying this weekend I will get some things done. It would be rather helpful if I got a dresser or something for my room. My socks are sad and long for a drawer of their own. And let's not mention the boxes.  . . sigh. I have to get to it! I have external motivating factors. Sarah is visiting in less than 2 weeks, my sister in less than 4 and then a month after that my best friend. It is weird so many Portland visitors. It's exciting though! 

 Ok, my flashcards await. Yay psychopathology. On the block for the next 45 minutes before I drive to campus to turn in my projects: Anxiety disorders. It's okay, you can be jealous. 

The Overwhelming Cometh

I have no motivation and not enough time to entertain such a state.

How does one become motivated to do things that they have no interest in? Like study.
When did I stop loving this?

No, that's not true. I do love it. I am just unhappy with not feeling settled. I liked it when I felt that MFT was my fit. Or close to it. It was a (hard and pricey) means to an end. Now? It doesn't feel like enough.

I meet with my adviser tomorrow. I am afraid of the GFU staff now though - I am afraid to say that I have doubts because I don't want to be told to take time off school and figure it out. Because that isn't necessary. I have always wanted the same thing. Always. It's just the right avenue for it feels foggy.

Sigh.

Now I'll go read about Suicide and treatment. Oh the cheeriness of graduate school.

My Sentiments Exactly or Sort Of

Remember Peggy Ann McKay? Except the difference for me is that on Saturday I WILL be at school. Just like Friday - from 9-5. So for me, insert "Thursday" for "Saturday" and "fiendishly study" for "play" and it is totally the same (but it doesn't sound as good).

Sick

"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay,
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash, and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is---Saturday (THURSday)?
G'bye, I'm going out to play (fiendishly study)!"

Shel Silverstein

Questionable

I am wondering . . . who would graffiti the computers in my Graduate University? We have a few programs here. The graduate department of counseling, the seminary and a master of arts in teaching. Which ones do you think are the culprits? The graffiti by the "disc" part of the computer looks like a poor effort for greek - that makes me think it is those damned theologians! I must say that I am disappointed - disappointed indeed.

Enough to storm out and not go to class? Well, that would be a false reason. I just don't WANT to go to class. But I woke up, got coffee, ran errands and got to class in time to print my homework - oh and I paid a lot of money and have invested a lot of time and heart into my education - so I might as well sign off of here and head upstairs.

I am reluctant because I am unhappy with my professor. I am trying (though not that hard) to develop an open mind and just go to class and see if this week is better.

She's Out

I shouldn't have looked. I have way too much to do. But I did look. I did and I found out that she's out. That girl. The girl who assaulted me. She was paroled within 10 months. She was given 6 years. 1 for assaulting me. She didn't even serve that. I figured she'd get a parole hearing in 2 years - so soon. But then when I was looking into the victim's network so I could be notified, I saw how low the numbers are of female offenders. Then I thought there was a chance she wasn't locked up but in the transitional living program - which didn't make me feel great. But then I found her, finally after searching every where. And there it was, Jordan Ashley Moore, 18, paroled, 1/17/2008.

I gasped and felt something terrible when I read the word "paroled" and I had to look at it again. And check the date again.

I just can't believe it. I can, but I can't.

I want to say I shouldn't be effected. But that's ridiculous, I can be effected. And then part of me thinks I should be more effected than I am.

I'm not scared - I really don't think she held it against me. I mean, she could have, but I don't believe she did because I believe her apology letter was sincere. But I also don't believe she could possibly be rehabilitated.

I also don't think I would recognize her on the street. Isn't that weird? Someone has that big of an impact on your life and you can't pick them out of a line up? Of course the last time I saw her she was sobbing because she was receiving her sentence, which was clearly a joke. The time before she was shrugging at me and looking smug - but I was in shock (the initial hearing before she read my delightful victim's statement). The time before . . . well there was a lot of bleeding involved and before that, well, the rest of the night isn't so clear.

I don't feel like sleeping. I have to and I have to get it together and I have to write my papers and prepare for my meeting tomorrow and update my resume. But I just need to sit here for a little bit.

Dehmanization in a school training people to work with humans

WOW. The title says it all.
People ARE disorders.
THEY - THEM - THOSE People.

Good times.

Monday Blues?

Wake Up relatively on-time
Leave for School
Ice on Car
Ice comes off car rather easily
Drive - can't see out front window because it refuses to defrost
Take a different route to the freeway
Surprising lack of traffic
Get to school
Get out of car
Slip on ice
Injure knee
Accidentally swear in Christian College parking lot
Grumble around car
Fear ice
Get to library
Turn on apparently already on computer
Crash computer
Coyly move to another computer
Print
Go to class

Expected fun:
Finish paper
Finish assessment search
Read looooong book
Hope for an episode of Frasier to fit in
Go to sleep

Wake up & Repeat - hopefully with a clear window / visibility and no ice slipping


My knee hurts.
Have a good day!

Change. Stay. What? No. Change. Stay. Scream? Yes.

I am in a huge career confusion. I am looking into transferring / applying to be a School Counselor instead of a Marriage & Family Therapist. Yes, my dream of MFT pushed to the wayside for a sudden (huge) shift. I mean same school etc., only taken a few extra classes so far that don't count. And to switch the number of classes left actually decreases but nonetheless this is HUGE. And the question comes up, will they let me transfer? Will they see this as a sign of instability or flakiness and "suspend me" (kick me out!)? Or will they just say, you've been an excellent student so far (because I have) and if this is where your heart is, let's make it work. What are the chances of THAT one?

The funny thing is everyone I mention this to says the same, or a similar thing. They say it fits, it makes sense, they wonder why I didn't think of this before. They don't say negative things at all or that they doubt I could be an MFT but just how much sense this makes. As one friend said, it is when I talk about teens that I light up. And she's right. I get animated and excited because there is no population I would rather serve. And in a school? I would love that.

How did I not see this? I was so dead set.

Okay, back to work. Just because these classes don't count if I switch doesn't mean I am allowed to slack off - they're still important!! Though I am enjoying them less - and was before this idea struck - this epiphany. Not enjoying psychopathology? THAT is insane. But true.

A Goodbye Letter from a Dear Friend

My Beloved Coffee Drinkers,

It has come to my attention that my days serving you are coming to a close; now I would like it to come to yours. I realize that after many, many years of service that I have been loved and appreciated by you, my beloved coffee drinkers, but it is time for me to hang up my carafe and turn in my lid.

I have loved my time in your kitchen - and many kitchens past! How carefully you've packed me each and every time we've moved, oh, there have been so many. You've given me a chance to meet such a variety of Stoves and Microwaves, even a juicy Blender! The fun times we have had. I have felt special and loved by you, and when I see your faces in the morning and I hear your sighs and your kind words, I am happy for the joy I have caused. The way you lean your head back as you inhale the sweet aroma of my freshly brewed coffee. Your kindness as you say, "This is a good cup of coffee," or, "Oh no it's empty!" whilst disappointed in a loss of your liquid goodness. And the way you perk up as I finish percolating . . . there is nothing quite like it. I have been proud to serve you.

However I take pride in the quality of the coffee I serve and lately I find that grounds have been showing up in the pots I brew. Grounds! This is unforgivable, it is a disgrace to any maker to serve coffee so unrefined (with the exception of my Turkish cousins who meet the needs of a very acquired taste). This and the permanent stains on my lid and the one too many times I have been left on all day until my coffee has burned away, have shown that it is time to let me go. Let me leave with my dignity. Go to the store and buy a new coffee maker. It's okay, it is my time and I will hold no ill will against you.

With love and appreciate of our lengthy relationship, I say goodbye. Toast a final cup with me and then, let me be.

Your Coffee Maker,

Proctor Silex, II.

Franny

I am feeling very Franny today.

If you have read J.D. Salinger's genius work, Franny & Zooey, this should make sense. I am feeling like her in the restaurant.

I am feeling fragile.

The Beautiful Messiness of Faith: Cast them Out

The Beautiful Messiness of Faith: Cast them Out