Farewell Letter

My dearest Livejournal,

I want you to know that I have loved you all along; even after I got facebook, I checked you regularly and declared that you were still the one for me. I stood up for you when no one else would, but now I think the battle is over. You've died and I need to move on. I hope you understand that I never stopped loving you, it's just time.

If you ever need anything, I'll be here now http://bettywhiteinabearmascotsuit.tumblr.com/ and remember that we'll always have 11th grade.

Here's lookin at you blog,

Overcoming the Mud
        For the last few months I've been harboring this anger that I simply refused to face. I put it all on Andrea; it was like my life got complicated when she moved out, she bailed on me, she messed me up. The truth is, I have no idea what messed me up, but it certainly wasn't her. Tonight, we finally talked about it. It wasn't me making jabs via text, it wasn't her avoiding responsibility, and it wasn't us both ondering why things changed. It was a real talk about what we both thought, about how we were hurt and I think I finally let it all go. The mud I've been trying to walk through for months is finally thinning to water. (Don't think about the image of waist high brownish water)
        We're going to try to be friends again, i don't think we can be the way we were because things have canged, we've changed, but I think that we can be something new, something better. It's time to start looking forward and i know I can be friends with my ex wife, :)

Unmedicated Medicine
        Hello 2010! Ok, so it's been 2010 for nearly a month but this is the first post of the new year for me. It still doesn't feel quite right writing '10 on the date, I still write the zero first and have to squeeze in the one in front of it. But, who am I kidding, I still write '07 way to often.I remember on my 19th birthday some one told me that I should enjoy my youth, because once you leave your teens, it's like some one hit the fast forward button. Well, it's only been two and a half year, but I definitely feel like it's true.
        2010 has thus far been not the most fun or the simplest of years. After several months of not feeling quite like myself, I finally decided that it was probably not just reverse culture shock from my time abroad almost a year ago, and went in to the counseling center. Why I am I confessing to this in such a public space? Because Bruce "The Shep" Shepard, our University president, told me to. About two weeks ago every Western students received an email about police activity about the arboretum, not far from my apartment; we were told that we should stay away from the area and that we'd get more information soon. A few minutes later it was revealed that a freshman from WWU shot himself, just reading that was absolutely horrifying. Bruce followed it up with a long email about his son, who committed suicide a few years ago, and the fact that we should all be able to talk about depression and counseling, that we have to watch out for each other. That was it for me, I thought, ok I'm not going to run out into the street with a giant flashing sign that says "I'm in counseling!" but I shouldn't hide it either.
        Not long after I start going to counseling, I remember distinctly lying to a friend and telling her I had to work out something with tuition when really I was on the way to the counseling center. The lie wasn't premeditated, I didn't even hesitate, it just came out. Getting myself into the center in the first place took nearly two months because I tested every excuse to skip it. It's been absolutely amazing though and I have actually started to see some changes, without being thrown on meds. Since the arboretum incident, I've been open about my adventures in counseling and found out that their are very few people I know who haven't been to some form of counseling; most of them kept it quiet too. 
        It seems so strange to me that we would hide this from each other because of pride or fear or whatever else when we all know that this is a world of maximum stress and minimum emotion. It's scary that when the center contacts me they only say they're from Western and that they won't confirm anything if some one calls for me. And this is all to protect me from future employers or other people finding out and judging me? Well, judge away, because I think that all this says about me is that I admitted to myself that I couldn't fix it on my own and I found some one to help me. If you don't want to hire me because of that, then maybe I didn't need that job.
        It's a mad, mad world.

Healing is not Weakness

        This morning i woke up. I do that. But this morning I woke feeling sorry for myself. I suppose it really started last night, I got into bed because I was feeling sick and in pain and thought I should just give up and go to bed. And then I sat in bed and texted Nathan for a whlie and just felt like shit. Crying because I was scared. Crying because I sent my mom home too soon. Etc. So I took my last vicodine and fell asleep. And when I woke up 12 hours later i talked to Jess and again felt sorry for myself. And then I texted my mom saying that I just didn't think I should still feel this bad. She wrote me back saying "of course you should! you just underwent major surgery, did you forget? Silly girl, maybe it's time to stop taking those Vicodine." Thanks, mom. She's always the one who just says it. So I'm off Vicodine for good and I finally feel better, and I'm healing. I'm just a terrible patient. I hate waiting to heal. I'm too impatient to be a patient.

        Oh and of course this could have been spurred by the scary Friday night ER visit i had. I sat down around 10:30 pm and realized my ankle was swollen and I was losing feeling in my leg. I had Andrea drive me to the ER and got  checked out. Five hours later I had undergone a horrible IV, blood work, CT scan, ultrasound of leg and numerous vitals checks. They looked for blood clots, which are a huge side affect of the surgery, but found nothing and in the end determined that it was temporary spinal damage from surgery and the OR table. The doc gave me more Vicodine which I'm not taking and said I can't lift anything over 10 pounds or bend at the waist. fun stuff.

        I'm a little anxious about school starting because I'm not completely healed yet and I think I'll have to see if Zach will carry my backpack for me for the first week. I think once I get my books and some job interviews I'll feel a bit better. I've turned in a million applications and resumes all over and I'm just waiting for a call now. Bath and Body Works seems promising which would be good. I think at this point I'm just waiting to push play, but pause seems to be taped down along with my incisions. Which reminds me, I somehow have to manage to take my surgical dressings off tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to that...

"Gettin' Slizziced"
       I got sliced today, don't worry it was planned. Surgery went well. I got to the hospital a bit before 10 am and did all the paperwork, vitals and got a massive IV stuck in my arm that hurt like hell because the nurse wasn't so great with needles. I sat in the pre-op room with my mom and took a pregnancy test and peed 6 times because they gave me 1.5 liters of liquid via IV. Oh boy. After noon, the scrub nurse came to get me and put my hair in the little shower cap thing and we made my mom go to the waiting room while I headed to the OR. Everything was happening really fast but the nurse was so good at keeping me calm because I was a bit nervous. The anesthesiologist was also really friendly (and a kiwi!) so it was all good. He told me I was getting medicine in the IV that would hurt quite a bit and then told me to think happy thoughts and gave me the mask and then.........I woke up in the recovery room and was very disoriented and cried a little. I asked if my mom was ok like three times and they finally just got her because we were all confused. I stayed for another hour or so after I awoke and ate crackers and drank water which was rough because the anti-nausea meds make my mouth dry but I was intebated during surgery so my throat's all scratched up.I've got some non-toxic gas in my body that they used to see everything better during surgery that's causing shoulder pain and the incisions are a bit sore, but everything is working out well. I just think I need another nap - today I fell asleep in the living room on the floor, on the toilet and sitting up at the table...

      On a completely different note, I hate driving. I have thought about this a lot and it really makes me angry. I used to be a horrid driver, not void of skill just void of fear. The rollover accident helped me learn to fear and respect the road and yet I have still gotten in accidents. I drive the speed limit, I signal, I look, I don't tailgate, I try really hard. And what really irritates me when my friends give me shit for a lack of driving skills; I know I suck at it but I try really hard. To make fun of the jeep accident's one thing, I do that myself. But there is something about being told that you are a bad driver that is unnerving. Driving is something that anyone can do, idiots can drive and I can't. It's something that I have tried to improve on and simply can't get much better, I'm bad luck but situations do always work out. So I guess I can be thankful for the fact that no one ever gets hurt and financially things tend to work out, thanks to a great set of friends and family and the grace of Great Wokanda. I guess I just hate not being able to take a joke or take shit for something because I don't like because sensitive about subjects, but you know what I'm allowed to be. People who tell me I suck at driving are right up there with people who think it's funny to try to make me pass out by talkinng about needles. Tre suck.

       My family, friends and the city (village) of Creston deserves to be thanked as well. I have gotten tons of emails, facecbook comments, texts, phone calls and cards from numerous people. Creston has a phone tree for updates on me health. MY dad would have given a anything to be there today but I told him not to come because he had open house and conferences. The fact that people are willing to drive 6 hours to take care of me is amazing. I am so blessed to be a part of this world community, it truly makes me joyous.

Lazy Days and Heartfelt "Yays"
I need a job. Badly. Money would be the main issue here. But more than anything, I need something to do during the day, I need somewhere to go and feel like I'm getting something done. Don't get me wrong after a tough summer it's been nice to just hang out, but I liked hanging out at my parents because while I wasn't working I had things to do every day like painting the house and gardening with my dad. Now I find that everything costs me money which I don't have. And as much as work is tough sometimes, I like the feeling of making my own money and paying my own bills because I worked hard. But I suppose all I can do is keep applying and try to get out of the house until school starts and/or I get a job. Zach was awesome today and took me to pita pit and red berry just because it was sunny and we were both stir crazy.

I feel sick a lot because of the gallbladder issues too which isn't all that fun. I have to eat less food and more often because if I go too long without eating I get sick and if I eat too much I get sick. And if I eat anything too fatning I get sick. it's super fun.

I did, however, figure out the rat problem. Swarley was not just scared, she was a bitch. She was biting everyone and actually drew blood when she bit Andrea yesterday. We went to get a roommate for her, Sweatpea,and upon bring her home and holding her, we realized that rats don't just bite, mean rats do. So we returned Swarley and got another rat who doesn't have a name yet. We've been calling her Poop Monster. I also got a bigger cage that they love. They're so cute, we played with them for hours last night. Just the animal therapy every college age kid needs.

Zach has forced me to sit outside on the balcony with my computer now so we get some fresh air, I suppose it's much better to be away from the tv and the stuffy inside air. Sitting out here I have that feeling again. That feeling that something good is coming. Ahh.

Finding Positivity, sometimes like finding Narnia...
                I'm having a rough day today, I've worried a lot and I'm emotionally spent and physically not doing great either. This morning I went to my surgical consult and was told that my gallbladder needs to be removed, it's the only real option. The procedure was explained in 2.4 seconds with the surgeon and I signed a bunch of "you might die, but you probably won't, but you might...and if you do...." paperwork. And I was told I need to be tested for hepititis a third time because they really want to believe I have it I suppose. Perhaps this is some cruel trick of the universe telling me I don't have it but I should be careful because having to wait for results is terrifying. There's almost no way I could have gotten it, but it's possible, anythings possible. And that's frightening. The surgery itself isn't going to be too bad, it'll be two hours of prep and one or two hours of surgery next Wednesday. My parents will be there for recovery. When I called and told me mom she just said she'd be there, no matter what. My dad, of course, called later to check on me and ask if I'm scared, which scared me. He then asked if I wanted him there. I tried to be accomidating and told him that I didn't want him to miss work and get all messed up and he said "that's not what I asked." He asked again if I needed him there and I said yes, he'll be there, which made me cry. I love my parents.
                 Swarley's also giving me some problems. I can't pick her up because she's so scared of everything. I read today that rats really need to live together so tomorrow I'm going to buy her a roommate. I hope that solves the problem. I do have 15 days to bring her back to Petco, but I don't want to. Well, I kind of do want to, which kills me. I just have a lot of worry right now and I need to not worry about her, but I'm going to get another one and hopefully that'll help. Hopefully.
                 It's just been a rought day, tomorrow will be new. Tomorrow will be better.

Today I am 21. I could not drink alcohol. I could not have much fat. And yet it was amazing. I spent the morning sleeping and chilling and selling my books on amazon, the afternoon talking on the phone with my mom and then Boo for several hours. In the late afternoon my roommates blindfolded me and took me to get frozen yogurt and buy a rat (Swarly, she's seven weeks old). In the evening I bought and drank very little wine, but I bought it nonetheless and then went to see "9" with Andrea and Zach. It may seem uneventful but it was a great day of non alcoholic, low fat fun. I did forget to renew my license by I still have 60 days thankfully.

I am not the person I thought I would be at 21 when I was 16, but I really like being the person I am. I suppose people evolve throughout life; fears they had no longer scare them and old dreams morph into new dreams. I hope I have a lot of things by the time I'm 25, 30, 40, 74, etc but for now, I'm happy being me and 21.

21. 09-09-09. That's pretty cool.

Feeling like a grown up
This summer has been a study in how life tests you. I had an amazing spring in London that changed my life and I would never give up; it further proves my theory that money should never mean you can't do important things. I was all set to go to camp right after and then on to the roadtrip and the only thing that made the end of London ok was that I was finally returning to this home-like place. Camp. But camp wasn't like normal this year. The kids were wonderful, the LITs and CITs were amazing as usual, I have and will always love their senses of humor and their views of the world. The single mindedness of worrying mainly about what will happen tomorrow and if school starting will actually such is a refreshing break from the usual where is my life going thoughts. Administration this year was tough though; I was accused of wrong doings i wasn't part of and made to feel like being at camp for a long time made me a candidate for conspiracy not leadership. I was attacked for loving camp and fun. It was unjust and it will never happen again. I simply won't allow it.

As for the roadtrip: I should know better than to go into things with expectations, especially high ones. The journey south was wonderful, all stopping to play in the ocean and finding insane viewpoints. It was when we entered San Francisco, well Eureka really, that the chaos began. We were lost more than we were we found, I backed into a car (the guy was really nice, it's taken care of I'm just down $2500), and we bickered more than ever. California, in short, was not good to us. In fact, when we saw the first sign on I-5 that had distance to Portland, OR we actually screamed in excitement. The days of sanctuary at Boo's house were wonderful though, in every way: we were taken care of emotionally which is all i could ask for. Finally, we got back to Wenatchee. Having coffee with "Kitch" and finally making it home to see my parents gave me happiness I can't really explain.

Then of course another bomb was dropped. Suky, the cat that I got for my 6th birthday, died. She was just old. For some reason I had never thought of her dying even though 15 is really old for a cat. She just didn't seem old. And I think at some point I thought that having a pet die and crying about it was weak. And maybe it is, but hell, I miss her. She was around for nearly as long as I can remember, she was my baby. And as if all that wasn't enough, I got massive chest pain one evening about a week ago and my mom called 911 around 1 am. I was rushed to the hospital and hooked up to every machine possible. It's my liver. Enzymes were really high so I got every blood test in the book. I transfered to the hospital in Bellingham and got an ultra sound which confirmed Gallbladder disfunction. The doctor called this morning to let me know that I don't have hepatitis, always a good call to get. I have a surgical consult on the 10th. The day after my birthday. My 21st. And I'm not allowed to have alcohol or anything high in fat. Like birthday cake. I think this officially qualifies as a fml moment.

The good news is...I feel like a grown up today and Kara told me I look like one too. I don't know what it is. But damn, it feels good.

"I hope your mustache falls off and haunts your children" - road rage
Camp started
Camp ended
it was moderately fun
love the kids
love some of the staff
not so much with administration

roadtrip started
roadtrip was ok
roadtrip got worse
roadtrip needs to be over

be back in washington on friday
creston on sunday

i'm reading the last harry potter
so good
read 6 this summer
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