Jaded Contingency Plan CDP

Awhile back, a loverly person sent me a Crappy Day Package. She told me it was to be opened on a VERY CRAPPY occasion, that I shouldn't even open the box unless I was feeling spectacularly crappy. So I held onto the box for weeks, using it as kind of a litmus test. I would ask myself: Is today crappy? Yes. But is it crappy ENOUGH for the big CDP? Maybe not.
And so the box stayed under my desk. It was nice to know I had it around, just in case I had an exceptionally crappy day. Kind of like a security blanket.

You know what's better than a security blanket? An ACTUAL blanket.

A bright, beautiful, cozy, cuddly SNUGGLE BLANKET.

I opened the box today, right after I got home from dinner. It was so worth the wait.

I went to dinner tonight with a group of gals from my school program. They are all really nice people. Lovely, really. But tonight, I left the group feeling... well, crappy. Because although I know I shouldn't compare my life to anyone else's and although I generally feel good about myself and happy with my life, being with that particular group of people brought me down a little bit. All of those gals passed their Giant Paper Things on the first try, graduated on time, took their board exams, and most of them have jobs already or are at least living settled-ish lives. Me? I spent 2011 learning that when you ASSUME, you make an ass out of yourself in front of the entire internet. I assumed I would pass my Giant Paper Thing on the first try, and ha ha ha that didn't happen. I assumed I would graduate in June and surprise! Nope. I assumed that I would take my board exam and I would have a job at least by December or January, and sigh, no. Not yet.

(Have I mentioned that I am taking my board exam in February? I'm parenthesizing this because I feel like the Universe has been doing a bit of excessive smiting of me recently, so I'm trying to fly under the radar here. I am certainly studying my ass off and hoping that I pass the exam on the first time, but no need to smite me for being cocky, Universe, for I know now not to just EXPECT that I will pass. After I finished Giant Paper Thing v 2.0, I was cautiously optimistic-- BUT I had a contingency plan in case I did not pass the second time. So. If I don't pass my board exam the first time, well I guess I'll find out when I can take it again, study even harder, and take it again. Maybe I'll have to look for a non-NP job while I study, or even move back in with my parents, but the point here is that my life will go on and things will be okay, even if they're not exactly as I planned. Planning, it seems, is what leads me to make an assume out of myself.)

Also at dinner tonight was the necessary telling of the breakup story, since most of these gals had not seen me since 'graduation' in June. So I told them about my breakup, and about how I've been on so many bad dates recently that it's like a douchebag convention. I don't know why I didn't anticipate it, but this led to the inevitable "Oh don't be cynical, you'll find him!" and "You've got plenty of time!" and "You should just concentrate on yourself for now" comments. I love these ladies-- they are all really nice and smart and whatnot and I know their hearts were in the right place, but if there is one thing I hate it is BEING TOLD HOW TO FEEL ABOUT SOMETHING. I would like to just be allowed to feel how I feel and have that be okay. I don't need anyone to try to fix it, and I ESPECIALLY don't need anyone telling me that the way I feel is wrong.
"Maybe you shouldn't be looking so hard for someone right now." I'm not desperately searching for Mr. Right at this precise moment. Right now I'm playing the field. If I meet someone amazing, great. If I don't, that's fine. I've been a little disheartened recently by the dating pool as it seems to be overwrought with asshats, but I tell those stories because I think they are funny and entertaining, not because I need you to tell me "Just stop looking and it'll happen!"
And the kicker is that I didn't even think I sounded that emo or cynical when I talked about that stuff. Maybe it is because this group of people didn't see me when I was heartbroken, sad, and angry, so they interpret Contingency Plan Julia as jaded and woeful. I feel like I'm being smart. The last thing that I want is to be waiting around to meet someone until it's too late for me to biologically have babies. I'm not saying that I have some deadline in mind, but I'm realizing that it is possible that I won't get married and I'll be damned if that means I'm giving up on my dream of having children. If finding a dude who I can stand and who wants the same things as me doesn't pan out, well then maybe I'll have to go a different direction-- maybe once I've worked for a couple of years I'll have babies by myself or maybe I'll become a foster or adoptive mom. That's not a defeatist attitude, it's realistic. But apparently it comes across as cynical and give-uppy when coupled with a breakup story, several anecdotes about douchey guys, AND a currently not-yet-employed status.

Bah. Whatever. Maybe I am jaded. But I do have a new blankie that makes me feel nice and warm in my hollow tin chest.

Angry

Okay! So! Last week I was sad. Weeping, whimpering, and S-A-D sad. I still loved him, still wanted him back, still thought he was the most wonderful and amazing guy ever. I couldn't believe how suddenly he was gone, after being in my arms only days earlier. I'm still sad, of course, still bursting into tears at random intervals. And, yes, still reeling.
But now I am also angry.

I'm angry at myself for not being good enough and for picking the wrong guy, YET AGAIN.  I'm also angry at myself because I am such a damn mess right now and this affects me so much and I wish the hurting would stop. I'm angry because here I am 29 and single, which is so not how I wanted my life to be. I'm angry at the situation because why couldn't it have just worked out? And because for fuck's sake can't anything ever go right? OCTOBER IS FIRED. Actually, no, 2011 is fired. Clear out your desk, 2011. I've had enough of you. I'm angry that this happened and that I also don't have a job, am uninsurable, and have one CD to my name because my damn car keeps getting broken into. I'm angry at my apartment for reminding me of him. I'm angry at my phone for being stupid and lame and for not ringing and also for ringing.

Mostly, though, I'm angry at KC.
I'm furious that he broke my heart. I keep thinking in cliches like HOW DARE YOU? and WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?
I'm angry that he hasn't tried to contact me (even though I know that's probably for the best), because it feels like I was easily flung aside and he's just *poof* moved on with his life. A couple people have suggested that maybe he's not contacting me because he knows that would make this harder on me. Well, thinking of him as all calm and rational, trying to 'do what's best' for me ALSO MAKES ME ANGRY.
I'm angry that he had been thinking about breaking up with me apparently for a month (or longer?) while I was in the dark. I am enraged at his timing.
I'm angry because I don't know what happened-- what changed? I had thought he and I loved each other and wanted the same things in life but, no, ha ha, surprise! Now he wants something totally different! Or else he wants those same things, just not with me. What the fuck ever. Make up your mind and grow up.
I'm angry because I loved him and I trusted him, and now I feel betrayed.
I feel stupid and used and misled and weak and sad and ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY.

This week sucks. Tell me a story?

Oh man. What an awful day. But I guess that's about on par with my week.
After another moderately sleepless night I arrived at 7:30 at an office building downtown to spend the day performing health screenings. (A lot of companies will book screenings or flu clinics or health fairs for their employees through healthcare agencies-- the company tells the agency what sort of even they want and the agency will send the equipment and personnel. I've worked for two years doing this sort of thing. It's convenient because you can be on the schedule as much or as little as you'd like. The pay is kind of crappy, though, and there's no guarantee you'll get as many hours as you'd like.)
Anyhow, my assignment today was terrible. The agency sent the wrong kind of lancets for pricking fingers so it was really difficult to get the right amount of blood so that the screening test would, you know, WORK. And all of the components of the machine I was using were tiny and delicate and hard to see and easy to drop.
Plus, the woman who was supervising me was condescending and awful and acted like everything I did I was a huge inconvenience to her. When I asked her for hand sanitizer she tried to tell me I didn't need it, and then huffed and sighed at me when I pointed out I would be working with blood so, yeah, I think I actually do need it. She brought me some, along with an eyeroll.
And I felt like bursting into tears. Or going home. Or both.

This sucks. Everything sucks. I hate everything. BAH HUMBUG.


Have you ever had your heart broken? Tell me about it?

drowning

I feel okay sometimes, like I am sort of floating on top of the grief.
And then sometimes I'll have a flash of a memory or find something in the house that reminds me of him and my breath is knocked out of me and I'm just drowning in sadness. Heart-wrenching, aching sadness.

Sadness, because why whyyyyyyyyy? And because oh how it hurrrrrrts. And because he was JUST here. Sunday he was here, and we were together. And now he's not, and we aren't.

And sadness because he doesn't want me. I talked to him on Monday night, foolishly thinking he might give me some impression that he was still reeling, too, or that he still loved me but he just needs a little time. But he was checked out. Distant. Like he had become a different person overnight. He told me to hang in there and that we should work on being friends. And that's when I started to realize that  'I just need to be on my own for awhile' actually means 'I just don't want to be with you.'
He had been thinking about this for awhile before it happened. Weeks? Months? He had been figuring out his feelings and deciding what he needed to do. And so he's had time to process this.

I'm still reeling. Still hurting. Floating sometimes, but still drowning.

I'm gonna find a way to make it, without you

The song is beautiful. The music video is kind of... nuts. But it does help to envision myself a superhero in that badass purple catsuit.

Heartbroken

Today. Well. Today sucked.
It started out regular, usual, normal. KC and I went to the flea market and then lunch and then to the cactus store because he loves succulents. And then we came home, took a nap, and hung out for a little bit.
And then we broke up.
I still don't even know how we got from there to here, but basically he says he needs to be on his own for awhile.
Well okay then.

I just don't even know how to handle this.
He's the best guy I've known.
BY FAR the best guy I've dated.
Sure, we've had our issues, but I never really thought that they would result in us not being together.
My apartment is still full of him. His clothes, his hats, his photos. He is right across town but he's a million miles away.
It would almost be easier if he were a jerk. Every other breakup I have had has at least had the silver lining of relief. A feeling of WHEW. GLAD THAT'S OVER. Not this time. I don't want it to be over.
I want to hop in my time machine and wake up and start this day over again and have this not happen. A week ago we had dinner at my parents' house. He gave my nephew a guitar lesson and helped my mom water her garden. Yesterday we drank beer and watched football. Today he told me he can't do this anymore; his heart isn't in it.

I was so broken, so hurt, and so afraid when I met him. I didn't think I could trust again. He  helped me heal and showed me what real trust could be. He brought out the best in me. He made me happier than I knew I could be.
He gives the best hugs.

I wish I hadn't been so needy, so sensitive, so jealous, so available, so weepy, so pushy. I wish he could be sure about me, because I'm sure about him. I wish I could be enough for him.


I miss you already, my love.  I hope you find what makes you happy.

Wallowing

Yesterday I found out that I did not, in fact, pass my Giant Paper Thing. What does this mean? Basically that now I have to work closely with my advisor to rework the paper, turn it in again, and hope it passes this time.
I might also have to work closely with the readers, AKA THE PEOPLE WHO FAILED ME. Oh, hello humiliation, so nice to see you again!
I may or may not get to graduate in June. Basically, my advisor said that I would redo the paper and they would get people to read it this summer. I was shocked-- THIS SUMMER? I stammered something about graduation and she said "Hmm. Well, I don't think it will affect graduation much but I'm really not sure. Let me look into it." Yes, DO LOOK INTO IT.

Things that make me feel better:
- receiving texts, emails, tweets of the "I'm sorry, that SUCKS" variety.
- hugs and snugs
- thinking about how my sister didn't pass the bar exam the first time she took it but she passed it the second time and now she's a kick ass, sought-after lawyer.
- junk food
- soda
- listening to music
- maybe showering? I haven't done that yet but I suspect it will help.
- Bowie cuddling with me
- KC bringing me dinner and taking me to a movie last night.
- thinking about how, even though this paper did not pass, it isn't a reflection of my skills as a clinician.
- being excused from class today

Things that don't make me feel better:
- talking on the phone about it (leads to crying)
- talking about it in person (leads to crying)
- sleeping (leads to crying)
- being asked questions like "why didn't it pass?" Well, gee, if I knew that then IT WOULD HAVE PASSED. If I knew what was wrong or missing or WHATEVER I would have FIXED IT.
- being told to look on the bright side "I'm sure it'll be okay!" "I bet they'll let you walk in June!" "Don't let 'em get you down!" Look. I appreciate what you're trying to do, really I do. But I need to be allowed to be sad for a few days. I was living my life under the assumption that things were going to turn out a certain way and now they are not. I already put my heart and soul into writing that paper. I spent hours and hours at coffee shops, in the library, and at my desk cranking out 30+ pages. I sent it out to be inspected by an APA expert, a content editor, and a neurobiologist. I WORKED MY ASS OFF AND IT WAS NOT GOOD ENOUGH. And now I have to do it again and I just don't know if I have it in me. So if I need to feel crappy about this for a couple of days then BY GOD I'M GOING TO.
- thinking about spending another howevermany hours working on the paper all over again.
- thinking about how hard these past three years have been and and how MUCH crap I've been through and how hard I have worked.
- thinking about the graduation festivities I was starting to plan.
- thinking about how I never, ever, fail ANYTHING. I am good at school. I don't know how to strive for anything but As so the only papers on which I've ever gotten lower than A grades have been papers that have been half-assed. But I did not half-ass this paper. This paper was FULLY ASSED. Which makes me think there was some problem with the assignment or the readers or SOMETHING. This does not make me feel better, you see, because it doesn't change anything. I still have to redo the damn thing, so feeling like I was cheated somehow does not improve my life.
- thinking about how I have clinical tomorrow and I hope I don't cry.

SENSITIVE? ME?

Step into my office, will you? You'll have to imagine me saying this with big, wide eyes and an eerie, shaky voice that makes you think you're not sure what's about to happen. Am I about to be buried alive? you might wonder.

My birthday is next month. And so it's around this time of year that I think about my life and goals and whatnot. Birthdays are important to me both in terms of partying my socks off and in terms of life achievements. Maybe that's silly, but I never claimed to be otherwise.

Anyhow, my last two birthdays have been sort of, well.... Let's review, SHALL WE?
26- Asshat broke up with me via text message.
27- Spent the evening sobbing alone in my old bedroom at my parents' house. Asshat (we were back together) was down in LA, presumably cheating on me and doing his drug(s?) of choice. And to top it off my entire family was mad at me because they didn't like my tattoo.

In fact I do believe I have a photo that photo accurately depicts both years.

Yep. I'd say that as long as I manage to keep all of my limbs, this birthday will probably wildly surpass the past two years.'

However, that doesn't mean that it is perfect. I can feel many things at once (but we knew that, right? Because I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS).

I can be excited about my upcoming birthday and also sort of wish I didn't have to turn 28 yet.
I can be happy and satisfied with my life right now and also be slightly confused and disappointed that it hasn't gone the way I used to expect that it would.

So, yes, maybe I'm just a touch sensitive about my birthday this year. I'm kind of a snarky bitch and I guess you could say that there are some subjects, including this one, that fall into the category of: Take it, Cannot (see also: Dish it Out, Can Only).

Loss

I read this post by Califmom (Leah) about and hour ago and still my tears keep coming. Her words, her story took my breath away.

In this particular post she wrote about how, as her husband lay dying, she told him she was afraid. Afraid because they had been together for twenty one years. Afraid because for twenty one years they had each other, and now she would be alone. Not alone, of course, but he would be gone. And he held her and told her he would always be watching her and giving her strength. And now I'M CRYING AGAIN JUST WRITING THIS LITTLE MINI SUMMARY OUT.

Because, oh my. Haven't we all lost someone who we thought we couldn't live without? It's the kind of pain that is so raw, so real, so overwhelming that all you can do is let it wash over you. You breathe. You cry. You let the time pass and you heal.

Love, fear, pain, anguish, denial, hope, laughter, tears.

One of the hardest parts of life is its ending. But sometimes it is even harder on the people left behind.

And I'll cry if I want to.

Just a few minutes ago at midnight my boyfriend called to wish me a happy birthday. Some other friends(?) also shouted what I assumed to be birthday wishes in the background. He asked me about my plans for the day and then said he would call me back again in about 20 minutes.

"It's your birthday" he said, "don't cry."

Today I'll be at my parents' house, hanging out with family. That was what I originally had planned. I think it will still be fun, since there will be lots of chaos with all the little kids running around. And my family is sweet-- I am sure they will make my birthday nice. I'll try not to think about the things that are making me feel sad and buck up and enjoy the day. Thank all of you lovelies who gave me such great suggestions of what to do today. I'm sure over the next couple of days I'll try all of them. I'm particularly excited to walk around naked while watching The Last Unicorn. Molly, dear, how do you know me so well?

feeling sorry for myself

<--- This is how I felt last year on my birthday. And so far, it is looking like it might be equally awesome this year. And by that I mean not awesome at all.

My boyfriend is out of town and doesn't seem to 'get' it. And some of my family members have taken issue with my tattoo, to the point of saying... some things they possibly don't entirely mean.

Last year didn't actually suck because I ended up going out with lovely friends and imbibing myself silly. But this year many of my friends are out of town. So. Anybody have tips for pulling myself up by my metaphorical bootstraps and making the most out of my birthday? Or should I just pretend it's not happening and celebrate later in the hopes of avoiding the crushing disappointment that I feel is just around the corner?

Dear Patient,

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for what you had to go through.

I'm sorry that you came to the hospital with a baby inside you and you have to leave with an empty belly and a heavy heart.

I'm sorry for the cold floor, the skinny bed, the flimsy hospital gown, and the needle we put in your back.

I'm sorry that you could hear babies crying when you walked through the hallway.

I'm sorry for being a nursing student, an extra person in the room during such a difficult time.

I'm sorry that I wasn't the nurse, who did all the right things-- holding your hand, talking to you, being present with your pain. It was important for me to see her do it, but I'm sorry it wasn't me.

I'm sorry that I had to maintain a professional distance and that I couldn't hold you in my arms and weep with you.

I'm sorry that this procedure is the best one we have. It's invasive and uncomfortable.

I'm sorry that you had to choose between giving birth to a dead baby or having the doctor take it out.

I'm sorry that we couldn't really tell you what went wrong. We don't know. And that's not fair.

I'm sorry that you are still going to look pregnant when you leave here.

I'm sorry that you've been through all of this before.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. No one should have to be this strong. It's too much.