Same Thing

Earlier in the summer, one of my professors was talking about ridding ourselves of one-sided friendships. The relationships in which we are the friend but the "friend" isn't a friend to us. She said that people like us tend to get into those relationships because we feel like we can help or fix them in some way. It isn't necessarily a bad thing in and of itself, but as you move into the real world and have clients with whom relationships are supposed to be one-sided, the one-sided toxic "friendships" are the ones that will make you burn out. Fast.

I continually realize that I have one relationship that is one-sided. I forget, and then I put forth the most minimal amounts of effort and get nothing in return. Let me be honest and say that most of my friendships have minimal efforts put into them at the present moment. Relationships with my Chili's girls are easy, and relationships with old friends are what they have been. We talk occasionally. Text, call, facebook message, whatever. Even though that communication may occur less frequently than I would like for it to, it actually occurs. And when I try to get in touch with them, they respond. There is also this crazy thing that they do called initiating conversation sometimes. It's really a phenomenal thing. I don't know how they manage. Especially given how difficult of a person I am to talk to. I say that in all seriousness. I may not be easy to get along with 100% of the time, but I am not that hard to get along with. I'm pretty easy going, go with the flow. One of my old co-workers told me I was the least disliked person that worked at the daycare. I don't get worked up over things I shouldn't (usually), I'm generally nice, and I show genuine concern for people. Most of the time, at least.

I am legitimately not sure when the last time this person initiated a conversation was. Actually, that isn't true. I do know what it was and it was because they had a question for me, which doesn't exactly count.  This may make me a bad friend, but it is something I need to do for myself. I'm not saying I am "kicking" this person out of my life. What I am saying, though, is that I cannot continue putting forward the effort when they are not willing to put forth any effort in return. Is this person busy? Yeah, not any more so than I am. In fact, I could probably make the argument that they are less busy than I am. Regardless, you put forth the effort in the things that are important to you. At some point, I probably will, or at least should, confront this person. I haven't yet because I have no doubt in my mind that an excuse will be made. That is how this person lives life is by making excuses.

I don't want to do this. Even though it is exhausting and tiring to continue with this friendship the way it has been, I know it is not healthy to do so. I am reminding myself, for about the millionth time, that the right thing is rarely easy. In fact, most of the time the right thing and the hard thing are the same thing.

Idealizing

Lest I ever idealize my time taking summer classes in grad school, or just grad school in general, because I have no doubt that I will at some point, this is my reminder to my future self that grad school has been the hardest thing I have ever done. No doubt about it. Part of it, I think, is my fear of the unknown about what my job will look like because there is so much variability. Part of it, of course, is also my fear of finding a job. Well, of not finding one. There is also the constant state of exhaustion that makes everything more anxiety inducing and frustrating than necessary.

I need to be abundantly clear on this: I would never, ever, EVER do anything to intentionally end my life. Never. First and foremost, I wouldn't do that to the people in my life. Also, I don't have the guts to, but mostly, I couldn't do that to the people I love. Since the entire purpose of this blog is honesty, I would be lying if I didn't ever think it would be easier just to be dead. It's not really that I want to be dead or that I want to die, but sometimes the pressure of my life right now is overwhelming.

I have a sneaky suspicion that I am not alone in that feeling. It is probably more common than I am aware. People just don't talk about it because it is awkward, hard, and perhaps embarrassing.

Reminder to my readers (you know, the ones I do not have) that if you or someone you know is actively suicidal, stop what you are doing and call 911 immediately.

Part of our program is doing a wellness plan in some of our classes. I haven't been good about sticking to one when I don't have to, though, so I am trying to get back to that. One of the things I have been doing is trying to exercise more.

I think it started when I was having a terrible, no good, very bad day last Tuesday. On Thursday, this girl who hates running more than just about anything else started couch to 5k. I'm actually enjoying it so far. Of course, that is easy to say when I have only done it twice and because of the fact that the running that is happening right now is only in one minute increments. I have always been more of a swimmer. There was a period in time I probably could have swam a 5k. I couldn't anymore, not without stopping, at least. I can swim a mile without stopping, though. Or at least I could a few months ago. I'm weirdly excited to start running, though.

Actually, running is probably not the appropriate word for what I am doing. Calling it jogging would be generous.

Work this morning has been ridiculous. Only six more minutes until I get off. And it has been a whole six minutes since I had a call! Dang, I jinxed it, because literally right after I hit the space button after the "!" the phone rang.

In all seriousness, I need to eat lunch in two minutes when I get off, drink a large cup (or four) of coffee, and finish up a few things before class tonight.

Make the madness stop!

Grateful

On Tuesday in the midst of the worst days I have had in quite a while, I caught myself being unbelievably grateful for something. Grateful that the thing that, in some ways, I chose the thing that was causing so much pain and frustration.

I think I have written before about applying for the same type of program I am in at the university in the city I grew up in. Had I gotten in there, I probably would have gone there. I could have lived at home, and I had a job I loved. In that sense, it was a win win. In almost every other sense, it would have been a losing situation. I have said on multiple occasions how thankful I am not to have gotten into that program. I'm saying it again.

I am so thankful I did not get into that program.

There are several reasons behind that. First, the program I am in is a good one. Evidently one that the accrediting agency said should be modeled after. I'll take that. The second is that I love, love, love the girls I have gotten to know over the past 11 months of my life. One of our professors told us the first night in class that these people would be the ones to get you through because they were the ones that were there with you. I had no idea how right she would be. I am so thankful to be living life with them and commiserating with them as we move through our program together. The last one is that moving to a city where I knew (almost) no one has created ample opportunities for personal growth that would have never occurred had I stayed in the city I grew up in in which I grew up up in which I grew (because that doesn't sound awkward).

After that nonsense, I think it is appropriate to end with a fantastic Winston Churchill quote.

"Ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put."

Run

The last time I had an actual desire to go running was over two and a half years ago when a friend totally and completely ditched me for a cheating ex. To say I was livid that day would be a massive understatement.

Without going into details about everything this day has entailed, I could pretty much sum up my day in six words:

I had the desire to run.

Waiting

I have mentioned multiple times recently, and just in general, waiting for the right guy to come along. Several years ago, one of my friends told me that I needed to put myself out there. That a guy wasn't just going to show up on my doorstep one day and say, "hey, do you want to get married?" She was (and is) right, and I knew it. For someone like me who doesn't like to put myself in uncomfortable situations and who is perfectly happy spending days by myself, it is much easier said than done. I have to get over it at some point, though. I am not sure what that is going to look like yet, but I know it needs to look like something. Descriptive, right?

I would really like to go to the singles group at my church. I am well aware that most of the people will be at least a little bit older than me, but the description says something about young, single professionals. I guess technically I am not a professional, but I sort of consider that anyone that is out of college, which I am. Sort of. I am out of undergrad. The problem: they meet on Wednesdays. Wednesday is Chili's day. Plus I am in class on Wednesdays until after 8:00, and it starts well before then.

I guess I just had this realization that I don't want to be in the same place I am now 10 years from now. Yes, I need to be patient. Yes, I need to trust in God's timing, but like my friend said, he isn't going to show up at my doorstep.

Eighteen

I am giving myself 18 minutes to write this entry. I am stopping exactly when they are up, even if that means I stop mid-sentence. Why 18 minutes? I don't really know. It just seemed like a good amount of time. It also means I have to write for the full 18 minutes. I am currently procrastinating on looking up several articles for a group presentation that I have on Wednesday that I have done almost no preparation for. That should be fun. And by fun I mean a total drag.

This evening, I got to do something I have been waiting to do since mid-March. I finally met best friend's girlfriend. She was lovely, as expected. Totally perfect for him. Almost disgustingly so. It was really weird because after they left, he texted me and said he was glad I finally got to meet the future Mrs. John Doe. It was weird to read those words. Mostly because his name isn't John Doe.

Yes, I am aware of how terrible that was.

In all seriousness, even though I have thought about it and even though I know he has proposal plans in the work for this fall, somehow meeting her made it seem that much more real. I don't know how to explain it other than that.

Changing topics entirely,

I have exactly 22 days until I am done with summer school. I cannot WAIT! Oh my goodness, it will be a glorious day. A glorious day, indeed. I'm going home the morning after I finish for a few days, then spending the weekend at my dad's childhood home with my mom, my aunt, my cousin, and my cousin's 12-year-old daughter. It's in a cute little town with lots of other cute little towns near by. Plus it is right by a creek that makes for some fantastic tubing.

Hopefully it will have stopped raining by then.

I mean, seriously. It has rained nearly every day for the past two weeks. And I'm not talking just a quick pop up thunderstorm in the afternoon, either. I mean, there have been a few of those, but we are talking pop up storms that come and go all day or showers that last through the day.

I think we have now had the rain fall that we normally have by the end of the year. It's crazy! Crazy, I tell you!

Okay, I am starting to think 18 minutes was too many because I am only ten minutes in. Hah, oops. Of course, when I am done, that means I have to get back to finding articles and putting together my section of the presentation. I would much rather just write.

The class I am taking right now is career counseling, so one of our assignments was to take some career inventories. It was interesting to see what my results were. It made me question what I am in school for a little bit. It's not that I don't still want to be a school counselor. Not at all. It just made me realize that there are other things I would like to do, or maybe prefer to do, given the chance. For example, if I could make a living on making crafts, I would do it in a heart beat. Wouldn't think about it for even a moment. I know it isn't realistic for about a hundred reasons, but it was a reminder that I need to allow myself time to spend being crafty and making crafts.

I don't think this was in there, but as I am writing this, and pretty much every time I allow myself to blog, I remember how much I love writing. I am not always the best person at carrying on a conversation. In fact when best friend went inside to get a milkshake when I was eating dinner with him and his girlfriend earlier, there was definitely a lull in conversation because I wasn't sure what to say. Writing, though. It's different. I love that, here especially, I can write whatever I want without the fear of anyone else seeing it. Not if I don't want them to, at least. I mean, I guess people can see it, it's people that I know that I don't want to see it. Perhaps that is odd, and maybe that defeats the purpose of the blog; to be honest. I guess going back to it, though, the purpose of this blog is, and always has been, for me. Not for anyone else.

More importantly, writing lets me get out what I need to say. The things I don't or won't say because of how they might be perceived or taken. There is just something so freeing about writing. Writing for no particular purpose. Free to discuss or say whatever I want. Free to avoid discussing other things if I choose to do so. It's beautiful. It makes me so grateful for high school friends I no longer talk to because they were the ones that got me started in journaling.

You know, ten years ago. Well, close to it. Probably more like nine-and-a-half. Still. It's pretty crazy. It is

July 12

Yesterday was July 12th. Well, duh, right? Last year on July 12th, I told myself that, if the circumstances remained the same, I would tell a certain person I loved him. Circumstances didn't stay the same and I don't still love him, not like that, but I was reading what I wrote, and it was kind of sweet.

It reminded me of a few things. God's redemption in that area of my life. The reminder that even though it often seems like I will never, and I do mean never, find the guy that is right for me, that God tailor made a man for me and I will find him when the time is right. Of course, it's hard not to want the right time to be right now.

Last night after reading for class and watching The Wedding Planner, I watched Dateline by myself. I don't recommend that. I kept hearing noises and thinking somebody was going to barge in my door. The episode wasn't even that creepy! Basically, the ex-husband was found guilty, although there is some question, but if it wasn't him it was one of the 10 or so men she had been having relations with that she met online.

I've never been married nor have I ever had relations with anyone nor have I ever met anyone in person that I met online other than people with whom I had mutual friends.

Best friend and his girlfriend are near(ish) me this weekend and are stopping for dinner on their way back home tomorrow. I'm so excited to get to see him and finally meet her. It is long overdue.

Done

I'm done. Beyond it, really.

Sometimes I think the sole purpose of summer school is to weed people out of the program. The constant level of stress cannot be healthy. I know there will be times in the real world that are stressful, especially when I factor in the fact that at some point I will (hopefully) have a family.

I don't even possess the words to explain what it feels like.

It's like knowing what you want to do, knowing you will be good at it, but not knowing if you will live to see the day when it comes to fruition because you might have a heart attack and/or a stroke before then because of the following factors:

1. Stress
2. Poor diet due to time constraints
3. Stress eating
4. Lack of exercise
5. Stress
6. Anxiety
7. Stress
8. Loss of sleep
9. Stress
10. Did I mention stress?

I'm done. I cannot keep doing this.

Compliments

I always forget how lovely it feels to be complimented. It makes me want to be more aware of other people and be someone who genuinely compliments.

Yesterday, I walked into class wearing a gray shirt, a yellow skirt, and had my aqua sunglasses sitting on top of my head. One of my classmates told me she loved my outfit and that I always had the cutest things.

After class, I stopped by the green grocery store to pick up spinach, yogurt, and a granola bar. Yes, that is literally exactly what I purchased. Exciting times, right? The lady ringing me up told me she loved my hair.

Let me pause here to tell you about my hair. I am not tall, but my hair reaches about halfway between the small of my back and the top of my butt. It's long. Really, really long. If I grab the end of my hair and extend it so it is perpendicular to my head, my arm is completely straight by the time I get to the end. That being said, it is a pain to do pretty much anything with. I'm not sure when the last time I wore it down was. Southern summers are hot and humid, so wearing long (relatively thick) hair to the mix is a no go. I would say I wear it in a side braid a good 90% of the time. The other 10% is either a bun or a ponytail. Anyway, last night I had twisted my hair all down the side and then put it into a braid. That's how I usually braid it. It just looks more finished and less sloppy.

I thanked her. She asked me if I heard that all the time. I said that sometimes people would comment on how long it was. Her response was, "it's just so silky!" It's true, I do have pretty shiny hair and it is naturally straight, which I think helps.

I don't say all this to toot my own horn that I have cute outfits (which is ironic, because I have been searching for more professional clothing since I start my field placements in a little over a month), and have shiny hair.

I say it to remind myself that even the simplest gestures often provide great meaning.

And also because I am procrastinating.

Expectation

Last week, I got to skype with my life long friend, N, for the first time since Christmas. One of the many, many, things I love about our friendship is that we are always able to pick up right where we left off. No awkwardness, no weird exchanges, just two people who have known each other for a life time. I guess it's deceptive to say a life time because it has only been about 15 years, but when you are 23, 15 years is pretty darn close.

We didn't talk about anything spectacular. We filled each other in on our crazy lives, talked about politics (she is basically the only person I will talk about politics with, even though we have slightly different views), and basically talked for an hour and a half about nothing in particular. It was amazing and beautiful and about a million other adjectives.

One of the things we talked about was writing, and she mentioned that she hadn't really written anything in over a year, at which point I mentioned that I had written about ten papers in the last two months, but I also brought up that I still write in a blog because it is so therapeutic to me. I also don't feel as guilty for writing as a means of procrastination because at least it is productive. At least compared to my other procrastination activities which are typically facebook stalking, playing mindless games, or watching a movie or an episode of The Wonder Years.

Side note: I am totally obsessed with that show. There is something in almost every single episode to which I can relate. I absolutely love the way the entire series is built entirely on grown up Kevin's recollections of his childhood and adolescence.

I'm not really sure what the point of this entry is. I don't think there is one. I just wanted to write (read, I have a chapter in my textbook that I am avoiding).

No, but really, I got home this afternoon from spending the weekend in my dad's childhood home. My grandma (mom's mom) and aunt (mom's sister) were there with us. My aunt is on the tail end of a nasty, NASTY divorce. Basically douche bag ex-uncle left her after 30-something years for a lady who has been married four times before. I'm sure that's going to go well. Not that I care, he has it coming to him. I just hope he doesn't try to come back when that new marriage/relationship doesn't work out.

Anyway, she has the division of the assets later in the month, which I know she is absolutely dreading. Not that I blame her. On Friday night, I heard her upstairs crying and talking to my mom after the two of them had gone to bed, and I felt so bad for her.

I can't imagine knowing and loving somebody for 30-something years only to have them walk away. And not just walk away, but do things to absolutely destroy you on their way out.

Don't get me wrong, I know what it is like to have somebody walk out of your life, but I am not naïve enough to think that is anywhere near the same thing. It's not even apples and oranges. It's probably closer to arugula and orangutans. And I know how hard that was for me and how angry I was about the whole situation, which is saying a lot because I don't get angry. In fact, that scenario was the last time I was angry, and that was 2.5 years ago.

I think the only words I really have are that my heart hurts for her, and it is a reminder that even though I am impatient about waiting for the right guy to come into my life, I know that God has timing that is better than my own, and He is gently reminding me that being married is not rainbows and butterflies, not that I didn't know that anyway, and that things may not always happen the way you expect.

Next thing on my procrastination list: A round of Candy Crush Saga.

Like an Avalanche

Beautiful God

Laying Your Majesty aside

You reached out in love to show me life

Lifted from darkness into light

Oh

King for a slave

Trading your righteousness for shame

Despite all my pride and foolish ways

Caught in your infinite embrace

Oh

And I find myself here on my knees again

Caught up grace like an avalanche

Nothing compares to this love, love, love

Burning in my heart

Savior and friend

Breathing Your life into my heart

Your Word is the lamp into my path

Forever I'm humbled by Your love

Oh

And I find myself here on my knees again

Caught up in grace like an avalanche

Nothing compares to this love, love, love

Burning in my heart

Take my life

Take all that I am

With all that I am

I will love you

Take my heart

Take all that I have

Jesus how I adore You

Take my life 

Take all that I am

With all that I am

I will love you

Take my heart

Take all that I have

Jesus how I adore You

And I find myself here on my knees again

Caught up in grace like an avalanche

Nothing compares to this love, love, love

I have been listening to this song [Like an Avalanche by Hillsong] a lot lately. I cannot seem to get it off my mind. What would it be like to actually be caught up in grace like an avalanche? The thing is, though, it isn't what if. I am caught up in grace like an avalanche, and in my own human nature am completely, totally, and utterly blind.

What if, when I sang along with the bridge, I actually meant it? What would it look like for me to legitimately ask God to take my life, take all that I am.

If I am honest, the thought of that is terrifying. I am a control freak and the idea of letting anything in my life go, let alone my whole life, seems not only crazy, but impossible.

Then I think about this: What have I given my life up for? School, for starters. I almost entirely gave up the life I had in the city I grew up in for school. It wasn't easy all of the time, but it wasn't hard to do either. I knew that moving and going to grad school would be good for me in the long run. It has been. The last 10 months of my life have not always been easy, but I have never doubted that this is where I am supposed to be, so I am not really sure why I constantly, day in and day out, doubt give up my life for the One who made me. The One who knows me and loves me. Why is something that should be so simple so incredibly hard?