School, Life Updates, Etc.
So, I started back to school on Monday - and to be perfectly honest, I had a little bit of a breakdown on Sunday night, being stressed about just about everything in my life. I ended up spending the night with Ashok - sometimes it's just nice to be held when your life is falling apart around your feet. He is the one person out here who loves me the way I am - who can see a bad day on my face and can read me like a book. I walked into his apartment Sunday night and he got up and said, "What's wrong, Balu?" And I immediately started sobbing my eyes out. I'm a strong girl, but there are days when it gets to me. Work is heart wrenching at times, and where Ron was my sounding board for a month - he's not now. (Although I'm indebted to him for the fact he was there when I lost my first pediatric patient. Not being alone that night was a blessing.)
So anyway. I started classes this week - I don't think that my Spanish class should be TOO bad - although I'm already slightly confused at Como/Cuar. Hopefully it'll clear up a little bit before too long. It's hard going from knowing French to learning Spanish. It helps a little bit that I took one year of Spanish in HS, but that was a joke, seeing we had Mr. Edgell instead of Srta. Sanella. My Philosophy class seems like it could pose a bit of a problem, only because of the reading. Not that the reading is HARD, it's just going to be a lot of it. We read Martin Luther King's Letters from a Birmingham Jail this week - long, but good. And my last class? Well, let's just say that my Into to Criminal Justice class is going to be one semester long debate on the merits of being black vs. being white. It's going to be a long semester.
I started playing my guitar again - Suraj came to visit me the other day and asked me what my outlet for stress was - and imagine my surprise when I had to answer honestly that I don't have one any more. In high school, it was singing or painting or art - here? I've forgotten the things that I love. I went to sing karaoke the other night and completely punked out. Now, I know I can sing (as do the rest of you), but I'm such a different person out here than I was at home.
On that note --- I HATE the person that I've been lately. I've been this uncomfortable, untrusting, neurotic pain the ass that is annoying not only my friends, but myself as well. This is NOT me - I am the person that was so comfortable with myself over the summer - the girl who worked seven days a week at Children's and Wyman, who took risks and learned new things about myself every day. I am the girl who works 40-60 hours a week and doesn't take sick days, I'm the girl who spends hours cleaning and rearraging my house because I get bored, I'm the girl who was so intent on getting into a good school and seeing my future through that I mustered up the courage and applied as a Pre-Med major and have been reading nonstop about medical schools and getting in. I'm not this girl who feels like she's not enough for people, who feels like I'll never be enough for people. I'm someone who makes lists and completes them, someone who makes New Years Resolutions and follows through. I'm dependable. I'm someone who doesn't care what people think - someone who takes the microphone at Breadstix and sings my heart out. When did I lose that courageous, independent part of me?
I can tell you exactly when I lost that part of me - I lost it when I met this person out here - this person who reminded me so much of Travis and so much of the me before I was hurt, before I had experienced loss. Someone who made me feel like I didn't have stress - someone who made me freaking laugh at stupid things, and made me feel courageous, and that I could finally talk about things in my life that I hate and that I think are unfair. I don't talk about my financial situation much - I mean, a lot of my friends at home know how badly I was screwed over inheritance wise, but not details. This person just made me so comfortable - and if I'm honest with myself? Maybe I cared a little too deeply - maybe I shouldn't have seen the best in someone who might not be the best. I have a tendency to look past exteriors and see a person for who they are - a skill that I love and hate equally. I wish that I would've met this person six months down the road, post my own heartache and post my own weight loss, so I'd feel comfortable in my own skin, post his heartache. I try to remember that sometimes things fall apart so other better things can fall together, but it's a hard lesson to take to heart.
I didn't even feel this way when I ended things with Ashok. I remember the day so clearly that I ended things - I was on my way home from work, and we were talking and I just had this gut feeling that it just wasn't right anymore. It wasn't fair to move in with and marry this man who was so in love with me when I couldn't reciprocate the feeling. I didn't have that butterfly-in-the-stomach feeling anymore. It was just...gone. It was like I woke up one day and couldn't imagine waking up next to him forever. I could be content, but I wasn't going to be happy. I loved him, but I wasn't in love anymore. So, the split was amicable, but the heartache is still there. We've spent a few nights together this week, one of the nights being me just laying there, crying and needing to be held. Life is just..crazy sometimes.
Why is it that you always want the person who doesn't want you? Why can't you CHOOSE who you care about? If the human race is so advanced that we can choose our careers, choose our detiny per se, why can't we corral our hearts enough to decide who to fall in love with?
Logically, I know what I want - I want someone who is handsome, who has a decent, well-paying job, someone who I can be myself with, despite that fact that I want to wear sweatpants and my glasses and eat Ben and Jerry's after a long day at work, someone who is honest and kind, who has a good heart and makes me laugh until my sides hurt. I want someone who's going to be a great father, someone who's never cheated (BIG ONE), someone who thinks I'm beautiful and looks at me like I'm the only person in the room. I want the physical attraction, the kind that makes me want to pause a movie at the best part because I can't go another minute without touching them. I want someone who's got a college education, someone who pushes me to finish my schooling, someone who understands that I work long hours now and when I'm done with school, the hours will be worse, but they want me to succeed anyway.
I guess I want the ideal. I want someone who compliments me, and I want to be the missing piece in their life. I don't want to get married right now, in fact, at the point in my life, I can't imagine taking on a responsibility like that. But I do want someone that I could see that with, be it down the road, or starting now. I suppose this stress right now comes from the fact that this person I met? He seemed like he could probably fit the high expectations I have. There were a few things that weren't perfect, but overlookable. He told me that he thinks I'm in love with him - based on the fact that I'm affectionate. I will NOT admit that - but I will admit that he's the kind of guy I COULD have fallen in love with. He's someone that I wanted to make happy - someone that I wanted to see smile and laugh and all that stupid girly stuff. And all of you know how I do NOT cook? Well, I find myself wanting to make dinner and be all freaking domestic. How crazy is that...that's not me. Not at all. And in the end? He's seeing someone else - and appears happy. At least, seems it to me. And I want him to be happy - if it's not with me, at least he's happy. I'm jealous, yes. Do I wish it was me? Of course. Do I think that I fit HIS perfect mold? No...he's told me that. But does he fit mine? No. Who knows. The thing is...is that stressing about things doesn't make them any better, but that doesn't make this whole thing any easier, either.
Dear God. This is the longest entry in forever, and I think my Philosophy class is going to lead to many more of these.
Off to class.
So anyway. I started classes this week - I don't think that my Spanish class should be TOO bad - although I'm already slightly confused at Como/Cuar. Hopefully it'll clear up a little bit before too long. It's hard going from knowing French to learning Spanish. It helps a little bit that I took one year of Spanish in HS, but that was a joke, seeing we had Mr. Edgell instead of Srta. Sanella. My Philosophy class seems like it could pose a bit of a problem, only because of the reading. Not that the reading is HARD, it's just going to be a lot of it. We read Martin Luther King's Letters from a Birmingham Jail this week - long, but good. And my last class? Well, let's just say that my Into to Criminal Justice class is going to be one semester long debate on the merits of being black vs. being white. It's going to be a long semester.
I started playing my guitar again - Suraj came to visit me the other day and asked me what my outlet for stress was - and imagine my surprise when I had to answer honestly that I don't have one any more. In high school, it was singing or painting or art - here? I've forgotten the things that I love. I went to sing karaoke the other night and completely punked out. Now, I know I can sing (as do the rest of you), but I'm such a different person out here than I was at home.
On that note --- I HATE the person that I've been lately. I've been this uncomfortable, untrusting, neurotic pain the ass that is annoying not only my friends, but myself as well. This is NOT me - I am the person that was so comfortable with myself over the summer - the girl who worked seven days a week at Children's and Wyman, who took risks and learned new things about myself every day. I am the girl who works 40-60 hours a week and doesn't take sick days, I'm the girl who spends hours cleaning and rearraging my house because I get bored, I'm the girl who was so intent on getting into a good school and seeing my future through that I mustered up the courage and applied as a Pre-Med major and have been reading nonstop about medical schools and getting in. I'm not this girl who feels like she's not enough for people, who feels like I'll never be enough for people. I'm someone who makes lists and completes them, someone who makes New Years Resolutions and follows through. I'm dependable. I'm someone who doesn't care what people think - someone who takes the microphone at Breadstix and sings my heart out. When did I lose that courageous, independent part of me?
I can tell you exactly when I lost that part of me - I lost it when I met this person out here - this person who reminded me so much of Travis and so much of the me before I was hurt, before I had experienced loss. Someone who made me feel like I didn't have stress - someone who made me freaking laugh at stupid things, and made me feel courageous, and that I could finally talk about things in my life that I hate and that I think are unfair. I don't talk about my financial situation much - I mean, a lot of my friends at home know how badly I was screwed over inheritance wise, but not details. This person just made me so comfortable - and if I'm honest with myself? Maybe I cared a little too deeply - maybe I shouldn't have seen the best in someone who might not be the best. I have a tendency to look past exteriors and see a person for who they are - a skill that I love and hate equally. I wish that I would've met this person six months down the road, post my own heartache and post my own weight loss, so I'd feel comfortable in my own skin, post his heartache. I try to remember that sometimes things fall apart so other better things can fall together, but it's a hard lesson to take to heart.
I didn't even feel this way when I ended things with Ashok. I remember the day so clearly that I ended things - I was on my way home from work, and we were talking and I just had this gut feeling that it just wasn't right anymore. It wasn't fair to move in with and marry this man who was so in love with me when I couldn't reciprocate the feeling. I didn't have that butterfly-in-the-stomach feeling anymore. It was just...gone. It was like I woke up one day and couldn't imagine waking up next to him forever. I could be content, but I wasn't going to be happy. I loved him, but I wasn't in love anymore. So, the split was amicable, but the heartache is still there. We've spent a few nights together this week, one of the nights being me just laying there, crying and needing to be held. Life is just..crazy sometimes.
Why is it that you always want the person who doesn't want you? Why can't you CHOOSE who you care about? If the human race is so advanced that we can choose our careers, choose our detiny per se, why can't we corral our hearts enough to decide who to fall in love with?
Logically, I know what I want - I want someone who is handsome, who has a decent, well-paying job, someone who I can be myself with, despite that fact that I want to wear sweatpants and my glasses and eat Ben and Jerry's after a long day at work, someone who is honest and kind, who has a good heart and makes me laugh until my sides hurt. I want someone who's going to be a great father, someone who's never cheated (BIG ONE), someone who thinks I'm beautiful and looks at me like I'm the only person in the room. I want the physical attraction, the kind that makes me want to pause a movie at the best part because I can't go another minute without touching them. I want someone who's got a college education, someone who pushes me to finish my schooling, someone who understands that I work long hours now and when I'm done with school, the hours will be worse, but they want me to succeed anyway.
I guess I want the ideal. I want someone who compliments me, and I want to be the missing piece in their life. I don't want to get married right now, in fact, at the point in my life, I can't imagine taking on a responsibility like that. But I do want someone that I could see that with, be it down the road, or starting now. I suppose this stress right now comes from the fact that this person I met? He seemed like he could probably fit the high expectations I have. There were a few things that weren't perfect, but overlookable. He told me that he thinks I'm in love with him - based on the fact that I'm affectionate. I will NOT admit that - but I will admit that he's the kind of guy I COULD have fallen in love with. He's someone that I wanted to make happy - someone that I wanted to see smile and laugh and all that stupid girly stuff. And all of you know how I do NOT cook? Well, I find myself wanting to make dinner and be all freaking domestic. How crazy is that...that's not me. Not at all. And in the end? He's seeing someone else - and appears happy. At least, seems it to me. And I want him to be happy - if it's not with me, at least he's happy. I'm jealous, yes. Do I wish it was me? Of course. Do I think that I fit HIS perfect mold? No...he's told me that. But does he fit mine? No. Who knows. The thing is...is that stressing about things doesn't make them any better, but that doesn't make this whole thing any easier, either.
Dear God. This is the longest entry in forever, and I think my Philosophy class is going to lead to many more of these.
Off to class.