auld lang syne

my wallet got stolen last night.
while devastating and no small inconvenience, i find it rather poetic that this happen before the new year.
my right brain is clamoring for the symbolism and significance of it all.
this is a harsh reminder to stay the course.  things are getting too out of hand.  i was getting lost in a fog of nostalgia and old habits.  i was getting caught up in sadness, as if an ex-boyfriend had walked back into my life.  allowing myself to ruminate and obsess over an emotion.  letting it take over my being.  i was forgetting who i am now (who i worked so hard to become) and trying to be something i am not.
i am healthy, and able, and my family is intact.  i should focus on those things.  life will happen, when we're least ready for it.  i do not have much, but i should treasure what i have more than what i think i want.
i do deserve to be happy, and the universe will give that to me when it wants, via the avenue that is most appropriate.


in the meantime, i really need to look after my things better.

Things To Do After I Match

trying to tell myself....WHEN i match, not IF i match...when i match, not if i match.... sigh.

this year's bucket list:
-dinner at French Laundry
-ombre dye my hair
-massive overhaul/dump of the papers and books at my parents house
-quality calf-hair pumps
-dance dance dance (at Groove, Lines, City Dance, Mission Dance), and regain some fitness, maybe even perform at a show!!!
-sf beerfest
-sf sketchfest
-kiss someone nice
-try a martial arts class...krav magaw?!
-finish my sewing projects and tailor all the clothes i already own
-go out and watch an awesome fireworks show on my birthday
-taste pliney the elder
-attend more live music shows
-i wonder if there's time to pick up a temp job in order to afford a vacation...

used to know

i don't know if it's meds or maturity, but things feel peachy.  they're not, by any means.  but those moments of utter despair, of sinking, are fewer.  good, right...?
aging is only scary to me in that with every passing year, i grow more in debt.  other than that, i've been glad for it.  who doesn't want to be a less-angry person?  reaching goddamn enlightenment.  hoorah.
if i were to vanish tomorrow, i don't know that i'd have much regret.  ignorance is truly bliss, man.  how can i regret shit that i don't know is out there.  or, shit that i've repressed.  or forgot entirely.  it's not a bad way of living.  i've run into classmates that clearly do not understand this and think i am simply sofa king wee todded.    they're probably right.  but, whatever, you know.

it's all just one big whatever.  who knows.   no need to worry about it.




the thing, of course, being that i am hugely concerned.  afraid.  vulnerable.  and my mind's been infected, somehow, by the idea that i need someone else in my life.  because who i am is not enough?  in all likelihood yes.

how do you people fucking do it.  open up, let people in, and let them drift out without losing your sanity.  it's a fucking nightmare to think about going at this shit alone.  not emotionally, just, technically.

i can't.  no.  it's just not happening.  


there's a truth in there, somewhere, that i had a grasp on, once upon a time, in a land far away.  as in, it was true for a time and then i "grew up" and "learned" that it was false but actually there was a grain of absolute truth mixed in there somewhere, and i just threw the baby out with the bathwater.  that's what it feels like, anyway.  and fucking feelings, man.  the cherry on this total lack of sundae.


i need a drink.

closer

right now i am staying at a classmate's house, crashing on the couch.  there were times when i felt that i might be overstepping my welcome in her life by taking up her couch...seeing as how they only have one couch, it's in front of the tv, and one of the housemates likes to watch the tv.  but today changed my mind.  now i only feel gratitutde for this couch.

people go through the same thing in different ways.  or different things in the same way.  or different things, in a completely different way.  and it's okay.  because here's the key to life.  it's all okay.  all of it.  sure, there is a "typical."  but to say something is more prevalent, doesn't make it inherently right or wrong.  us weirdos are no better or worse.  just different.

i just realized that a classmate in sixth grade used to say that to me all the time.  well played.

what makes me sad is that these things exist.  either people, or programs, or parts of society that tell us we are worthless if we don't conform.  that we are failures if we don't meet their standards.  i realize i'm bordering on that hippie-dippy-love-everybody-crunchy-granola shit.  but that's the only way i can make sense of the world right now, and simultaneously find myself a place in it.  i think i'm okay with this.

i am so excited to be less than 48 hours away from never having to come to this goddamn campus ever again.  it gives me the heebie jeebies to be here.  like smelling a liquor that was part of a bad memory a long time ago.  instant gag reflex.  but, i guess i should relax about it.  if it wasn't for being here, being surrounded by these people, then isolating myself from these people, then going near the edge, so close to breaking...i wouldn't be who i am today.  and, while i'm not thrilled with the person i am today, i am content.  content and not completely jaded and filled with hate.   all things considered, that's pretty fucking good.

consumption

experiment:
no buying new clothes x 6 months.  EVEN if there is an amazing deal.  underthings are an exception.

it's a great day and age we live in, where we can finally learn of and experience the consequences of our excessive consumer lifestyles (via the interwebs): http://soundcloud.com/onpointradio/the-high-cost-of-cheap-fashion
it makes me incredibly guilt-ridden to think of how much i've been part of the problem.  i love thrifting anyway.  let's see how far i can take this.

psych it to me

i am currently rotating through psychiatry.  i had no idea how emotionally draining it would be.  well, i manage to get through the day unfazed.  but as soon as i get home, i have to shut off.  on the weekend, i completely crash and sleep 12+ hours (the norm my body needs is around 7).  instead of studying, i watch the same episodes of my favorite tv shows over and over and over.

but i am grateful to have a preceptor who allows me to share my frustrations and fears.  i was hugely concerned.  there is a young girl on the ward who has paranoid schizophrenia.  like, scary bad.  like, exorcist bad.  when she was first admitted, we interviewed her mother at length because the patient couldn't give us real answers.  i won't forget that conversation with the mother anytime soon; the grief that was heard over the phone was almost palpable.  imagine you are told that your only child, whom you've watched grow up from a wide-eyed, smiling baby, is dead.  now imagine being told that every single day, for decades.  this is basis of this mother's suffering; that even though her child's body is breathing and walking, her mind was in such disrepair that the person she used to be is essentially gone.

this mother's grief was so familiar.  i felt myself welling up during the phone interview.  that night i couldn't sleep.
by no means am i saying our suffering was one and the same.  but it was just familiar enough, that it opened up psychic doors i had closed a long, long time ago.  closed only for the fact that i hadn't the conscious tools to properly deal with that kind of loss.  i couldn't sleep.  i couldn't study.  all there was left to do was shut down.  and so i did.  the rest of the week was sleepless, making coming to the ward an agonizing exercise in futile gesture.

i tried sharing my confusions and fears with a classmate, hoping that perhaps just the act of sharing would bring about some peace.  but it wasn't until i was able to converse with my preceptor that i felt some relief.  i learned from him that the last thing anyone should hear when grieving is, "you should."  like, "oh, since you're just a student in this situation, you should use this time as an opportunity to learn to develop proper coping mechanisms."  "oh, you shouldn't feel bad about it because there's nothing you can do."

all nice sentiments.  but to tell a person in mourning that they "should," is like tying another psychological weight onto a balloon that they're trying to release.  and to hear that "'should' is inappropriate" -- that idea coming from a licensed professional was greatly relieving.  i was hugely concerned that i hadn't the proper mental tools to control myself.  that because i couldn't heal myself, i in turn could never become a healer to others.  that because i was emotional, over-empathetic, weak, i just wouldn't cut it.  that the past few years have been all for nothing.

one thing that i am appreciating more than anything in psychiatry is how important this idea is: there is no one reality.  everything lies on a spectrum.  to put things in black and white is an incredible disservice to others.  we, as rational people, must acknowledge the spectrum of human morality, social statuses, economic resources, spiritual beliefs.  otherwise, it is a slippery slope to losing what shred of commonality we all share.  it was a slippery slope that lead, for instance, to nazi germany not even a century ago.  it is our duty to help everyone, regardless of who they are or what they believe -- else, we are no better than animals.

in regards to my own grief, my own truth, my own spinning top locked in a safe...i desperately need to believe that it is still malleable.  that who i was in the past will not define who i become five years from now or prevent me from doing what needs to be done.  on this particular path i am traveling now, this hope has had many chances to grow.  repression might not be the worst choice here.  after all, if you don't open the box, who's to say if that cat is dead or alive...

this interview is everything

a man after my own heart.

so much for that to-do list

in the name of the "healing process," i've given myself free reign to piss my life away. i have had so much free time on this rotation. i have chosen -- well, "chosen" -- to spend it curled up on the couch letting my loneliness wash over me with hulu in the background. i say "chosen" in quotes because it wasn't really a conscious choice formed from reason and logic. it is just bad habits which are easy to fall into when all you want to do is shut yourself off.

i started my morning today watching clips of brian regan, a comedian. non-stop giggles. i started to feel myself lift out of my funk. but no, that was simply readjusting the bad habit to another level; i ended up listening to his standup and playing dr. mario all damn morning.

i finally fled the house at my preceptor's invitation to visit her horses. it was interesting how just a couple hours at the community barn felt like an entire day. around these beasts, time ceased to matter. all there was was their deep hoofbeats, and the cloudy sky. to touch their hides and palpate so much MASS underneath was a wonderment. the old one, her back hocks were stiff and deformed by arthritis. there was a cloudy fog in her saucer eyes. and yet she stamped her foot repeatedly, impatient for treats like a small puppy. watching the people ride and groom and feed their horses was hypnotizing. the barn smelled impossibly sweet. it was a different planet.

it was a good reminder to keep going outdoors. when people disappoint you, there is always the natural world. it is so much bigger than our petty shit. it is a force that will continue long after you and i are dust.

when i hike through the forest, i am struck by the number of gigantic redwood stumps jutting out from the soft, fern-laden ground. they look unmistakably dead. but in fact, they are teeming with innumerable shrubs and weeds springing from their every crevice, and their sloping roots are cloaked in green and white moss. they stand apart like neatly and tenderly kept gravestones of giants -- stoic, immovable, as if they had been forged in paleolithic furnaces. i am moved by the intent of it all. where the rest of the forest seemed in gentle chaos, each stump contained terrariums, carefully curated by unseen forces. i am afraid to approach, lest they break like glass threads. during one walk, i instead placed my hands upon a younger redwood. i expected to feel a hard tree; i felt myself falling into the red bark, as if it were made of foam. ...maybe i was projecting -- but maybe, maybe, i actually felt it -- a feeling of the fluids of the tree moving downwards, skywards, around and around. a force driven by not the evaporative action at the level of the leaves, nor the capillary action of roots soaking up water from the ground, but of the Divine Organizer, the Breath that takes our universe and molds it into the discrete. i found that i was listening. listening for an answer. expecting this tree, this random tree in a random forest, to give one to me. it was a foolish thought, because there was no question to begin with. and that's why i was unhappy. i was searching for an answer with no question. i had convinced myself that i was searching for something, and that without it, i would not be whole. the truth is, i was never in pieces in the first place.

if i don't write stuff down, i'll forget it!

thursday of our first week, ani and i checked out the eureka jazz festival. a nice hour or two of wandering.

sunday, i took a walk through the neighborhood, only to discover an honest to god forest smack in the middle. i'm really looking forward to exploring it, hopefully on a non-rainy day!

monday, i took a dancefit/zumba class in town. i went to the local hippie store, Wildberries. i tried to donate blood but my hematocrit was too low. i decided i was going to do the master cleanse up here (hippie influence? haha maybe i am too impressionable).

tuesday, ani and i went to humbolt state university to talk to the premeds there. it was really fun talking about osteopathic philosophy and ideals, and then what we've found to actually be true in the real world. well, fun, and bittersweet. maybe that's another thing that draws me to this profession. it's not cut and dry. very bittersweet for someone who embraces the original philosophy.

afterwards we went to a sushi restaurant in town. i was a little dubious of the quality, and the menu really did not have the variety that i've come to expect from a more...metropolitan sushi restaurant, i suppose. but i was pleasantly surprised. there were also a couple hippie-type rolls on the menu, vegetarian for ani, including a "locally foraged hedgehog mushroom" maki. 'twas interesting.

this past thursday Dr McCaffrey and her partner took me, ani, and another student out to dinner. everyone was really entertaining, and it was wonderful enjoying their company for a few hours. i learned that there's an unspoken rule that lesbian potlucks are vegetarian. and then there was a funny story about a rodeo. the chinese food here is definitely subpar, haha.

so far i've only gone through two days of DIT. :( two out of 15. the pressure to do well is enormous. i've had a terrible time concentrating because of my broken heart. but i hope i'm learning to not let my emotions rule my life.

eureka

i'm in mckinleyville for a month for my OMT rotation. somehow i should be much more excited about this. my mind isn't all here though. or, i should say, my heart.

i signed on, however, expressly to write this thought: eel river IPA is so. goddamn. refreshing.

last dance

i am terribly sad to have left my dancing days behind. age has made sure of this. on one hand, i knew it wasn't my heart. i did not live it, breathe it. i hadn't the soul of an artist. but on the other hand, if i had trained, what could i have done? where could i have gone? could it have given my soul greater depth to have explored it?

i think these thoughts when i see dancers like ida saki. i cannot get over this chick. what wonderfully human movement. what maturity. what grace. this is what dance is all about: not trick after trick, but movement that compels the onlooker to reflect inward, outward, and all around.

i have a horrible procrastination habit. unfortunately, i've realized, it's the way i deal with things: passive-aggressively. most likely the reason i constantly fail at life. and the way we live now, with constant access to Internet: the Great Enabler....yikes.

what am i really searching for, click by click? a lifechanging gif? a random blog post that has all the answers? does constantly surfing the web add anything to a person's character and identity? why do i need to know about the unborn child of a person on facebook to whom i haven't spoken to in nearly 10 years?

it seems to me that our society seems to value the slogan "be who you want" with no reservation. i'm beginning to think that is a false dream universally. perhaps more appropriate is "be happy with what you have." i would love to be a go-getter, a type A personality who knows exactly what they want and what it takes to get it and then goes and does it. but the combination of my background, my family dysfunction, my personal neuroses, and every disappointment i've ever had doesn't equate to that kind of person. i want to be a certain type of human being. but i'm just not.

the imminent residency-application-and-audition season has me brooding about this all over again. i want to be in certain locations. so, what is it they want? what grades, scores, CVs, personalities do they want? wait, no. i can't possibly be any of those things. i will never be good enough to be where i want to be. back to reddit for mindless internet surfing. entertain me, you faceless names of the world wide web.

on another topic, i fcking love pediatrics. i generally hate hospital medicine and being on wards, but something about these kids makes me want to go the extra mile. to be their advocate. to make them smile. it helped that there are amazing teachers here, ones that actually teach medicine. i have loved learning about step 3 level care, stepping back and looking at the whole picture. i have loved interacting with the patients and staff. absolutely hands down the best rotation i've had so far.

there is one little boy here with a traumatic brain injury and neurological deficits, transferred from the PICU. when i first saw him, he was basically a vegetable, his head bloated due to brain swelling and the fact that the neurosurgeons had to remove the bones in his skull. his family comes every day to stimulate his brain with toys and games and movies. yesterday, on my last day of wards, i visited him for the last time. he spoke to me. with words. the only ever time i've ever nearly cried with a patient was when i helped deliver a baby.

was i being just too emotional? is it to my disadvantage to have such overwhelming feelings? perhaps. but it's who i am. it's how i learn. maybe i don't need to apologize for anything.

2012 - is it over yet

this was supposed to be a big one -- 29. i spent it alone and sleeping.

well that's not fair. i'm at my parents' house so they were there technically.

saw some old friends, and i think that triggered a bit of melancholy. isn't it funny how that works sometimes?

i've been so focused on getting back HOME, that i haven't really stopped to think about where home is. i'm beginning to realize that my real friends are in socal. i don't like the PLACE....but THEY are my family.

socal isn't so bad. the traffic makes you want to shoot yourself and everyone around you, sure. but there's always something to do. new things to eat. people to see. bands to hear.

this is a huge deal for me. norcal is a part of who i am. so this is becoming somewhat of an identity crisis.

i saw this documentary that basically said that the 2012 mayan end date was not a literal armageddon, but signified the passage of humanity into a new era, a golden age. i really liked that idea when i heard it. but right now, i'm kinda wishing for hellfire and brimstone. HA.