Fireflywishes's Xanga

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 01:23:51 GMT

I'm thinking for the first time in about 2 years I'll have what I consider to be a real "home." Not just a place to stay. Although, right now, i don't feel like that "home" is quite mine yet.

I feel so off-kilter all the time. Like I'm in some sort of bubble. I don''t know who I am, what I like.. and I don't like that feeling because I pride myself on knowing WHO I AM. It's just lately everything I used to be and like.. well it's all different and funny now.

For example, I used to watch the news, almost non-stop. I can't watch it anymore, it gives me too much anxiety. I have to watch it in small doses, and whenever anything about health-care reform comes on, i try to turn it.

I find myself missing so many things, and yet I feel somewhat numbed. I just want to be past all this, I want to be looking back and thinking "wow, that sucked but now it's over." And I don't know how to do it.

And now that I have a real place to go, I'm supposed to get better, the pressure is on. I know it, and I feel like I can get better, that I am getting better... but it's so slow. And I worry what my limit will be. For the most part my obstacles are more mental than physical. I have so much anxiety, and it's hard to fight it.

People always take breathing for granted. Heck, I never used to really think about it. It's just something your body does automatically, a reflex. It's funny when you have to sit and concentrate - and yet at the same time NOT think about breathing. To just let it happen. You get caught up in trying to make sure you're breathing while not focusing on the fact that you're breathing - and it makes it SO nervewracking.

It's also weird how things go in circles.. last year around this time I was just a visitor to this hospital. My dad was admitted and he was here for a few days. I remember my mom and I went to the wrong elevator by accident, the very elevator that takes you to the unit I currently am at. I remembered the painting of irises on the wall when I was wheeled in by the paramedics when I transferred from the other hospital.

I have my whole life ahead of me. I know this is just one mountain I'll climb, that I have climbed other mountains in the past. I know I can do it but taking those steps is so hard. Time is really flying by though. In a couple months I'll have been "sick" for one year. I don't like that at all!

Sunday, October 04, 2009

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 23:37:14 GMT

I don't know if I have shared yet that I'm adopted. I was adopted when I was 6 months old, have no recollection of my birth mom, or of my loving foster family (except of the pictures I saw and things I heard from my parents about my foster mom.) For some reason, lately, I've been thinking of writing a letter to my birth mom. I don't know if this is technically possible.. for a lot of reasons. My adoption was for a good reason, honestly, even though I am a very pro-life person, she would have been very much within her rights to have an abortion.. and it would have even have made sense to do that. Instead she chose to be brave and sacrfice 9 months of her life so that I could have a life. Then she made the decision to give me a better life by putting me up for adoption. I have so much respect for her and the choices she made for me.

I have never once thought about seeking her out in person, or invading her life. The circumstances of my adoption, think it would just cause a lot of hurt and distruption and that is exactly why she gave me up in the first place. I would never want to do that to her. I wish only the best for her... I have such a compulsion lately to just let her know I feel. I want her to know how much I appreciate everything she did for me. That I recognize the hard decisions she made and made them even though they probably weren't easy for her. How she put my life first, the things that were good for me, instead of ending her embarrasing situation after she learned she was pregnant.

I want her to know she made the right choice and that her choices lead me to be where I was meant to be. Where I am blessed to be.

I want her to know that she gave me my life and allowed my parents to give me a great life. I want her to know that if she ever decides to seek me out or wants to meet me, that the door is always open. However, I won't ever be the one to knock on her door because I don't want to open old wounds for her and her family. I owe them that much.

I just want her to know that her sacrifice for me don't go by unnoticed that I appreciate her and will always have a special place in my heart for her. She won't ever be the one I call "mom" but she was instrumental in giving me the life I have and I can't ever express my gratitude in words.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Fri, 25 Sep 2009 21:22:47 GMT

It's amazing how much your perspective can change over the years. When I went to middle school (and high school too, I guess) there were always kids who lived in "trailer parks." Some of them were my friends.. but I have to be honest with myself and admit I looked down on where they lived.

Well, things have come full circle on me.. because now I'm going to be moving into a park. If this had happened several years ago, I think I'd feel ashamed.. but I'm not, in fact I'm extremely happy! If I had ever visited those friends I would have realized how nice those homes really are. Much nicer and preferable to apartments. My parents found a really nice place that has everything we need - even things we didn't have at my old house. Things like a side-by-side fridge, which is nice when you're in a wheelchair because you can actually get into the freezer by yourself. The stove has knobs on the front versus above the stove-top. There is a nice garden tub. In the new place I'll have my own full bathroom! Everything is fresh and new looking.

It's going to be so great to finally have a place of our own after having to live with my grandparents for so long. My grandma's alzheimer's is worse than ever and if my aunts and uncle have their way she is never going to go to a nursing home - which she desperately needs. She needs the structure and stability, people around her that have alzheimers too so she doesn't feel inadequate anymore. They just don't understand she needs more care than they are ever going to be able to give to her, it's just not humanly possible. Not unless they get 24 hour-home care and no one can afford that. They're lucky to have insurance that will pay for the nursing home.

Anyway, it's just a bad situation and I'm glad my parents (and when I go home) will finally be out of it. I feel like one nasty chapter in my family's lives is finally coming to a close.. although it will be much nicer after I finally am able to go home.

In other news..

I'm extremely frustrated with photobucket. Everytime I go there the websites not coming up right. It comes up so unprofessional, like a website with a designer who only knows basic HTML code. It doesn't have any real graphics or depth - not even a background! Just plain white. I've tried reloading the website.. I even thought maybe it was my internet browser (IE 6 or 7) and so I used Google Chrome, and it was the same thing. As far as I can tell no one else is having this problem.. but for me it's making the website completely unusable. Everything just comes up in lists that don't make any sense. I can barely even search! Ugh, i hate it.

Saturday, September 05, 2009

Sat, 05 Sep 2009 22:32:32 GMT

Lately, I've been watching an episode of Sex and the City here and there. I don't know why, I never was much interested when it was actually a new show. I never went and saw the movie. To tell the truth I always thought it was kind of ridiculous - especially how it contributed to girl's ideas that they all HAD to have designer shoes and bags otherwise LIFE WAS NOT COMPLETE!! I'm not into high fashion, or any of that kind of thing. So it boggles my mind why I suddenly want to catch episodes of this show. I can't relate to anything in it - and I really don't even want to. I've never had much of a social life.. and the more I come to know myself, the more I realize it's because I don't really want one.

In some ways I'm a very selfish person, I need a lot of time to myself.. to reflect and think. And write. Something I haven't been doing enough of lately. When I don't get enough time to do these things, it feels like a pressure.. I get irritable, and angry and the more time that goes by it's like a pressure cooker that feels like it's going to blow. I think I've always been like this from the time I was little.

I do have friends, and I like my friends.. but sometimes I push my friends away if they want to spend too much time with me.. and I don't like that about myself. I know some people think I'm lonely.. and I guess growing up, sometimes I was, but really, most of the time I enjoyed the solitude. And yet I admired my sister and envied the way she could make friends so fast and easily. It's like two parts of my personality, the ying and yang, and they haven't quite figured out how to mesh, the balance.

Today my mom brought me this cool necklace/bracelet that she bought at a flea market. It's a skeleton sitting bowlegged on a small blue-metallic gazing ball, the skeleton has a tall Suess-like hat, that is bent to the left a little more than halfway up. I've always liked stuff like this.

..........

I feel like I come here and I don't write anything.. I don't write what I feel or what I think. I try to write it all without really saying anything.. because I don't want to face it. I don't want to see it anymore real than it already is everyday.

All I can say is this is one helluva mountain to climb. I don't know if I have the strength. There are so many times when I just want to give up but I know I can't and that this is all part of God's plan. I just want this to be over. I want to be at the top of the mountain.. or better yet beyond it. But I don't know how anymore. I know what I have to do to get there and it seems impossible. It's like telling someone that is in the desert, thirsty for water and all they have to do to get to the well is scale the Grand Canyon.

And I wonder - how did I come to be here? I know it's a pointless, useless question. Someday I will know, I will have all the answers I ever thought I needed. It's so hard though, it's so hard. I try to stay so hopeful, and I do have hope, but that doesn't lessen the challenge.

I want my life back. But I'm also scared about what that life is going to be like now.

I'm trying to stay so positive, and for the most part I am, but it's hard. It's hard not to think sometimes "why me" but I know those thoughts are no good and harmful. At the same time.. I know I am better for all of this. I have an am learning so much. Things I probably couldn't have learned other ways. I believe each person has a different path they have to take to learn the things they were meant to learn while they spent time on earth. I know this is part of my journey.. but wow, I think I took on way more than I could chew (as I usually do!) My spirit was WAY to ambitious.

The other day I went to the mall.. (for a visit) and it was nice.. but at the same time it seemed so alien to me. It wasn't part of my life anymore, like it used to be and that was weird. It felt like visiting a school you used to go to as a child. It still exists, and things are going on as they should.. but it's not YOURS anymore.

I know, one day I will look back on this post and think WOW I did it! Look how far I've come, just like I've come this far. But wow, right now it seems like the impossible.

The other night I told one of my respiratory therapists that I felt like this whole experience was like asking someone to climb Mt. Everest. And she took my pad of paper and wrote "you have wings"

That's why I don't give up or give in.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Mon, 17 Aug 2009 23:53:39 GMT

I've spent most of today looking up books that I'd like to read in the future. My reading moods tend to swing a bit wild every now and again - so whatever list I made up a few years ago no longer fits the bill. Right now I am on a big victorian-gothic lit kick. I've realized though that I have liked the gothic genre ever since I was a kid and John Bellairs became one of my favorite authors. (He still is.) More recent reads like John Harwood's The Ghost Writer (2006) and The Seance (this year) have just increased my appetite.

And when I say appetite.. I mean appetite, lately I've been longing for these books like a vampire craves blood. I went on the hunt and thanks to Amazon's "other people who have bought this book have also bought" feature, I have a rather long list of interesting looking books to satisfy my cravings.

I can't quite explain why I love this genre so much. It has something to do with the fascination of authors use of secret passageways, castles, manors, supernatural goings-on within the mystery, among other things. I like the time period too... late 1800's. The dress, the mannerisms, the way all of these things make the mysteries all the more creepy.

Monday, August 03, 2009

Mon, 03 Aug 2009 23:46:30 GMT

I witnessed the other day one of the sweetest things I have seen in a long time. Across the hall from me is an older woman and her husband comes to visit her nearly every day. Sometimes I see him bring her flowers. Usually he is here much of the day. A few days ago, I happened to look over as he was preparing to leave and saw him kiss his wife on the lips, and as he went to pull away, she grabbed him gently by the head and kissed him 5 times in succession, very quickly.

It brought tears to my eyes, honestly. I usually wouldn't get choked up over that sort of thing - not much of a mushy-gushy type girl. I don't really even care for romance books or movies. But when I saw that,you could see the love they have for each other. It reminded me that even though sometimes it seems like when I watch the news that this world is going to hell in a hand-basket, that there are always moments of beauty and love - that will triumph in the end. Although I am sure that simple act of caring will not make the headline news, I am sure there are couples who love each other just as much all over the country, and even the world. Maybe if those stories of dedication and honor did make the newspapers or news-casts, we wouldn't feel like our world is so hopeless.

Sunday, August 02, 2009

Sun, 02 Aug 2009 00:09:34 GMT

For some reason I keep on thinking of this incident that happened to me when I was a kid. Probably 7-8ish. I remember it as clearly as if it happened yesterday because it's one of the most unjustified, unfair moments of my life. It really shook me up back then, and I still think about it. I think in some way it defined the friendships I would have in the future... it made all potential friends a little less trustworthy, made me think about getting too close.

I'm sure you're wondering what I'm talking about so here it is:

I live on a relatively small dead end street. Across the street from us is a yellow house that a pair of twins lives in. They are exactly my age - to the month. We'd been friends ever since they moved in, but their house always had more rules - you couldn't go in it for one thing - even if you had to use the restroom, you'd have to walk back to your own house. My house was much more "open," my mom let the neighborhood kids use our bathroom whenever they wanted and she often would let us give away popsicles and other little snacks. (These are kind of background issues..)

Anyways. That day the twins and I are playing in their large sandbox under their swingset/monkeybars. We're talking and having fun, and then suddenly the twins look at each other and tell me they're going to go inside and be "right back." I was like "ok." And as I watched them walk into the back door of their house, I got a funny feeling that something wasn't quite right.. but I continued to sit in the sand and wait for them to come out. Well, I'd say about 2-5 minutes went by and there was no sign of them, and I just started to feel uncomfortable being in their backyard, by myself. So, I look around and start heading for the gate that separates their backyard from the front yard.

As I am headed toward the gate, I'd say more than halfway there - all of a sudden the twin's dad storms out of the house, obviously IRATE and starts screaming at me. I stop and I'm just frozen, I could barely understand what he was saying I was in such shock. As he continues to yell at me I start to understand that he's blaming me for a knife that he found in his yard and almost mowed over (I think that's what he was saying, to this day I am not quite sure.) I start to tell him that I had no idea what he was talking about, that I was just playing with the girls and we didn't even have a fight, that they didn't tell me anything about what he was talking about. He finishes his tirade by saying that I'm grounded from his house and am not allowed over to play anymore.

I started to tear up as soon as he started yelling at me and by the time he was done I was sobbing and I ran home. I got home and tried to explain what happened because my mom obviously wanted to know why I was crying, and I couldn't give her any real answers because I didn't even know myself. So she went over there to find out what happened and he screamed her right off the porch.

I think that I think about this sometimes because I'm still trying to figure out what I did. Or what I didn't do. I've come to suspect that the twins invited me over that day knowing their dad wanted to confront me about what he was so angry about. The way they looked at each other before they went into the house.. it's just too coincidental, that they'd leave me there by myself, not come back out and all of a sudden their dad walks out the door.

When it was all said and done, I felt like I'd been betrayed, but for what and why were a mystery to me.

It's just one of those things in your life that stick with you. I will always wonder what the real story was, but I've moved past feeling angry about it. I know that I didn't do anything wrong that day and I was completely innocent of whatever he was yelling at me for. I'm now old enough to realize that he had a lot more issues than I had, having to yell at a much-smaller-than-average-child at the top of his lungs. Not that he should've been yelling at any kids that way, but the fact that I was SO much smaller than him, in my eyes, made it even worse. (For me especially, in that moment, I didn't know what to expect from him.)

The only good thing I learned that day is the type of person I never wanted to grow up to be.

Saturday, August 01, 2009

Sat, 01 Aug 2009 00:00:08 GMT

I can't say I am a huge Miley Cyrus fan but I stumbled across this song.. and i love what it has to say. I think it defnitely fits me, especially right at this time in my life - probably my entire life.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Sun, 26 Jul 2009 22:37:31 GMT

Omg. Xanga just deleted a HUGE entry I wrote. I am so pissed off right now! I tried to post and I hit the "Save Changes" button and it tells me "you forgot to write an entry" and gives me a blank page.

Monday, July 06, 2009

Mon, 06 Jul 2009 23:38:38 GMT

I don't know quite why but I find I am pushing someone away from me. At first, it was subconscious, but now it's very clear and now intentional.

Our friendship started fast and easy. It moved a little too fast, for me that is. Soon I was in a position where I felt like I was being suffocated. I don't know if it's me and this is just another tick on the notches of all the friends I don't have anymore, or soon won't. I used to think that I just lost touch with them, no longer in their immediate circles, communication was no longer regular and thus became scarce, eventually to nothing. But what about this situation? Where I am clearly pushing her away... I feel like I have my reasons, but are they legitimate or am I just set up on a path of failure for most friends.

The friends I do keep in real touch with, are all either miles away or busy, so we don't see each other that much.

I think it's hard for me to have people just "drop in" whenever they feel like it - especially when there is no plan for what we're going to do. Nothing to talk about, the awkwardness drives me crazy. And in the end I feel like I am some kind of failure, that there is something I should be doing that I am not, that this is all my fault.

I have come to realize that in some ways I am a very selfish person with my time. With some of my friends I could spend all my time with them and love it, but others I grow weary of very quickly.

Here it is especially hard to have friendship boundaries with other patients here, because the door is always open and they can come in whenever they please. And I am not rude enough to ask them to leave outright - unless I am like throwing up or something.

The other day was especially annoying when she brought over one of her friends to meet me and I was literally throwing up in a cup as she was making introductions. I tried to smile, and wave, and I thought they would get the point that this was not a good time for a visit, but no, my mom walked to the door (I think it was in an effort to give me a little privacy since they were not getting the hint to move on).. until finally I was extremely annoyed and asked the tech by my bed to ask them to move on down the hall.

When our friendship first blossomed I was very open with her.. as I am with a lot of people I first meet. Maybe too much, and then I end up resenting it later? I don't think I would have resented it but in my opinion she began to take liberties that were not hers to take. For instance, telling me when friends or family of mine were planning on visitng me - before I knew of it myself, having read it off my facebook or actually chatting with them through facebook.

She is in her 40's (although she acts younger, she doesn't have a mental disability of any kind) and was actually interested in "pursuing" my uncle. I asked her not too, that it would never work out because he has odd habits and stuff. Yet, she disregarded my request and then had the nerve to tell me that the reason he had told her that it would never work was because "there is too many rules at long-term care facilities and I could never make you happy" - she took that to mean that all he wanted was sex. I tried not to show it, but it made me fiercely angry, he's a devout Christian and no, that is not what he was saying at all. Yes, I am sure when he gets married he wants to have a normal sexual relationship but not just for "sex" that is so crude to me, no, he wants to have a wife with kids and stuff. Do the whole dad thing.

It just made me so mad that she would rush to a judgement like that about someone she hardly knew. Especially after I requested she not make advances like that anyway.

It soon became apparent that she was "glomming" on every person I knew as a new potential friend for herself. Which, I can see that she is lonely.. but that just got overwhelming for me. I felt like everything about my life was being shadowed by a friend I didn't know that much about either.

So now, I feel like I am trying to extricate myself, delicately, politely, I just crave DISTANCE. And it has become apparent to her that things aren't like they were before. I just don't know what to say to her anymore.

I don't even like going on Facebook chat, even though I have many people I want to chat with - just because she's always there and I can't escape from it.

I took the step of blocking her from seeing my Facebook "wall" and my friend's list.

I just need somethings that are just "mine." And as I type that I realize how selfish that sounds. I don't want her involved with every member of my family or friend I have. I don't think that is healthy.

I just don't know what to do. Is this some fundamental failure I have at making and keeping friends? Is this behavior that I find border-line creepy, something else entirely?

And just to make it clear, she definitely has friends of her own, that visit her regularly, so it's not dire loneliness on her part.

Anyone? Advice, suggestions, has this happened to anyone else before?