divine intervention and mountain roads

this morning i woke up in a fog, which i called a sore throat and used as my excuse to roll over and skip work. in my defense, i really wasn't feeling my best, but i could've functioned - i just didn't feel like i could be open today. so i tossed and turned in my daydreams until one-ish, and then i moved to the couch and chased away my daydreams with crap tv. and then got up and showered and went to chip and kelsey's moving get-together, which felt so terminal. and it is in a sense, but it doesn't have to be in so many others. the relationships are not over, it's just a new phase. the beginning of a new chapter, i suppose.

my novel is very convoluted at this point. not linear at all. i think my life is actually one of those books where it's the same story told over and over by different characters in each chapter. like the view from saturday, you know? i'm living the same ideas over and over, but each time i live them, i look at them through a different lens, they have a slightly different twist because of the new situation in which i've been placed or the new perspective i've gained as a result of this event or that emotion.

anyway. after that, i was supposed to lead a bible study on psalm 62. this is where the divine intervention comes in. i couldn't find the house for the life of me. i drove back and forth in this neighborhood for a good 30 minutes trying to find it and i swear it was hiding from me. slash being hidden from me. so i called hannah to get better directions, and she didn't pick up her phone. i called her at least three times, and no answer.

i guess that whole waking-up-in-a-fog thing wouldn't have been too conducive to being honest. and i also think i just needed to drive, and the big guy decided to give me the chance to do it.

so i drove for two hours on curvy mountain roads with my i-pod on shuffle and i turned down any road that looked like it might turn into gravel at some point. it was wonderful - i haven't taken the time to just explore in a long time. poor lucy was a little angry at having to work so hard, though - she was grumbling a little toward the end of all of those hills. i'm afraid she's a little out of shape.

i'm going to be in a fog tomorrow, i can feel it already. but i can't skip again. and sometimes being in a fog is really great for work. sometimes it brings out the most basic, most honest kind of humility in me, and you would be amazed by what wonders that does in group sessions. i mean, the level of connection with the patients is just so much more real when i'm humble. truly humble, i-couldn't-have-gotten-out-of-bed-on-my-own-today humble.

i just hope that i can hold on to that for a long time. the rest of my life, perhaps. there's nothing like it.

i love music, did you know? i love it because it's so true. it's the most beautiful when it's simple, but it's one of the most complex ideas that exists. simple music is, i mean. i am of the opinion that really good music is totally a supernatural phenomenon, no matter who's producing it. kind of like the wind and sunsets. and the way water moves.

and fog.

good fences

hump day, indeed.

yesterday was really good. in a solid, i've made progress kind of way. big progress, life-skills progress. so that's always a good thing.

today was a little stagnant, but that's the way it goes. and a lot of the time stagnant days happen when i'm not really paying attention like i should be. there are some days that just suck, but mostly they are what you make of them. such is life, too, right? so i'm growing up and all that.

i think the problem about today is that i was so eager to leave that i didn't process the day well enough, and i thought i would be able to at home, but i forgot that the entire youth group would be at my house this evening. so. the only place i could run away to was my room, and my room just feels way too small and stuffy for processing unless it's past 10 pm. it's wonderful for comfort, and it's wonderful for sleeping, but it's very closed in, so it's not very conducive to getting things out.

but. i think everyone's gone now, so i might grab some food and sit out on the porch for awhile. i need some outside time.

and bluegrass. mm.

my eyes are dry, too, which always makes you feel more tired than you are, you know?

but. i'll stop whining and go process : )

i'm taking a mental health day

and i've decided that feeling guilty about it kind of defeats the purpose of taking a mental health day in the first place.

so. i'm just going to listen this song over and over, because his voice is just deep enough to give me goosebumps. and it moves well, you know how songs do that sometimes. did i mention the mandolin? i definitely have a pre-established and now completely official (and documented) thing for the mandolin.

would you go with me if we rolled down streets of fire
would you hold on to me tighter as the summer sun got higher
if we roll from town to town and never shut it down

would you go with me if we were lost in fields of clover
would we walk even closer until the trip was over
and would it be okay if i didn't know the way

if i gave you my hand would you take it
and make me the happiest man in the world
if i told you my heart couldn't
beat one more minute without you, girl
would you accompany me to the edge of the sea
let me know if you're really a dream
i love you so, so would you go with me

would you go with me if we rode the clouds together
could you not look down forever
if you were lighter than a feather
oh, and if i set you free, would you go with me

if i gave you my hand would you take it
and make me the happiest man in the world
if i told you my heart couldn't
beat one more minute without you, girl
would you accompany me to the edge of the sea
help me tie up the ends of a dream
i gotta know, would you go with me
i love you so, so would you go with me

[josh turner]

i've got to figure out what to do about this weight-in-my-chest thing. it takes me so long to convince myself to walk up the stairs to work every single morning and it takes so much effort to be responsible for myself, much less other people. i don't understand where it's coming from. i mean, i do know that work has a huge part in it, but that scares me - if this is my career choice and it's completely knocking the wind out of me what the heck am i going to do with myself? be depressed for the rest of my life? i'm not exactly jumping out of my seat to start that process.

i'm also frustrated with myself for not being able to handle it. which makes it worse.

i'm just a mess.

and i should be ok with that. i've always been able to be ok with that. but i think the problem with being a mess at this point is that i don't really see how that would be a good idea at all. who's going to pull out the pieces of my mess, sort them out on the floor, and then put them away where they should be? i certainly can't. i can't even see that there are distinct objects in the pile. sometimes. sometimes i can.

and everyone around me is hurting. deeply. the patients, my friends. everyone has something on their shoulders. i don't want to add to their piles, you know? i want to be the one to sort out and put away for them, and sometimes i can, but sometimes i get in these emotionally grabby moods where all i can see is blur and all i can feel is this desperation. which i get caught up in and suppress and then it ends up spitting out on some random, unfortunate soul in a tone or a look or a conversation.

if i could just get it out before that happened i'd be fine. however. the method for getting it out never stays the same - it's different every time and i can't keep up with it. which means i'm fine and i'm fine and i'm fine and then *bang* i cling and tear away, taking a piece of whomever i clung to with me.

i really do feel like a leech sometimes. all i want to do is figure out how to deal with this cloud before it latches. that's all i want, to catch it early. to catch it before i have to take a mental health day. to catch it before i leak it onto other people.

it's painfully obvious what i need, isn't it. this whole loneliness bit has a very practiced answer. but i can't pray. not in these moods, i can't. well. maybe i should say this: i can't connect. i can pray all i want to, i mean i can talk to God, heck, i talk to myself, inanimate objects; you name it, i'll talk to it. i seem to have a lot to process. but i end up starting a prayer and getting distracted by my thoughts and ruminating some more. it's like my heart's too scared to stay in one place for longer than a few minutes.

sounds like a personal problem, doesn't it?

i always forget that you really like to answer me promptly when i ask to be convicted of my grossness. i always pray that thinking that i don't really have any to uncover. hip hip hooray for chronic denial? or maybe i should say patterned.

*chuckle*

well. i feel better. honesty helps. even if it does come out as whining. i mean, i am the victim, after all.

i'm kidding. i'd like for you to meet my friend, his name is sarcasm. he's a little bitter, but we're working on that.

holy cow. now this is a post that's reminiscent of my maroon five summer nights.

packing lightly

going back to work yesterday was hard, ya'll.

i think it was the comparison between the wild, fresh, red-tan and evergreen of colorado and the confined, stale, neutral pinky-lavender of the hospital. i mean, i didn't even know it had rained yesterday until i drove out of the parking garage, saw the wet pavement and felt the damp come through my air vents. last week i knew it started raining because i felt it on my skin. it gave me goosebumps sitting on the dock up on pike's peak, you know?

but i've developed coping skill #3 for work. although numbering them is a little arbitrary, because they're all really the same thing:

RUN AWAY!

whenever possible and appropriate, of course.

anyway, i've taken to going down to my car in the parking garage for lunch, sitting for a hour and half in the dull light and eating while i blast my ear drums into nonexistence with country music.

did i mention letting my brain circle until it has partially processed everything? and then i can think through one thing at a time. hence the hour and a half everyday.

yes, i said country. i know - i haven't listened to country since middle school. but i think i like it because they (they being country artists), for the most part, present the kind of idealism that i totally feed off of and need to hear, half-way through the day. there is realism in there, too, and sometimes i just need to know that some man somewhere really means it when he sings about how lost he got in his wife's eyes when they got married. and that has implications on the fifth floor, not just in my heart. i hope that makes sense. i don't feel like explaining myself right now - it would be very long and very philosophical and i'm too tired for all that.

so. country it is. except i'm all about guster right now. actually, the wailin' jennys. actually augustana. mm, yeah. augustana.

it's been a radio kind of week. i haven't had one of those in awhile, either.

i feel like such a borderline-er. but i suppose that foggy sense of self has to do with the peacemaker in me. i'm getting better, really i am. i actually am starting to know what i need.

i need wind.
i need rain.
i need fresh air.
i need green.
i need nature-grime.
i need to go a few days without a shower.
i need time to talk.
i need time to listen.
i need water. big bodies of it in which i can play.
i need people. centered people, anyway.
i need conversation.
i need to be able to be quiet.
i need time to be understood.
i need time to understand.
i need bare feet. real bad.
i need sunlight.
i need hooded sweatshirts. and all that they stand for.
i need campfires.
i need to move.
i need to be loved. in the way that i've only ever been at home, i think.

i'm so ready to go to england. i'm so scared, but i am so ready to get out and away from "the smallness of my own life" as brandi carlile said once. i'm kind of sad that her new video is on vh1. she was kind of jenn's and my little secret, and now she's not anymore. and the song that got her there is really different from the stuff i know. much more rock-y, less folky, which just doesn't feel right.

but. that's not really important.

maybe i will move to colorado, my dear lady : )

sorry, i'm bouncing all over the place. i just really want to run away from any form of responsibility right now. vacation always kind of screws with me that way. but i got a lot done today - i checked my e-mail and figured out some fusab stuff that needed to be figured out and i called people that i needed to call and set up some coffee dates that i needed to set up.

so i feel better about life now.

and my favorite song comes on just in time for me to stop typing nonsense and go to bed.

and she's already out the door
she's already out of here

[augustana]

well. merry tuesday : )

call me delilah

i'm supposed to be at coffee with will right now, but i called him and we talked about it and decided that since we only had an hour, we didn't really have time to have a real conversation.

"you know, we drove back from furman that time and i think you talked the whole way . . ."

*chuckle*

it's so true. if i can get someone to sit still long enough to process what's on my mind, boy are they going to get an earful.

that's what this blog was supposed to help with, but i haven't had the time to actually use it, so i end up emotionally vomiting on people anyway.

oh well. i'm a package deal, i guess.

so. it feels like i haven't been here for a long time, but i guess it hasn't been that long. this summer has really been a one day at a time kind of summer so far. which means it's been wonderful, and i feel like i'm packing a lot of growth into not a lot of time, but it also means that the last month feels like a lifetime just because so much has happened.

and when i say happened, i mean changed in me. like, the way i think about things or the way i feel about how i think about things or the way i think about how i feel about things.

that's been a theme - thoughts vs. feelings.

i think the therapy is getting to me . . .

*grins*

really, sometimes i feel like my internship is more like free therapy than it is an actual job. there's a picture in the staff education room (which is my unofficial office that i run away to when i get overwhelmed) that just absolutely speaks to what my internship feels like. i'm going to take a picture of it and post it one of these days, but i'll be gone next week, so it'll be a little while.

i'm going to colorado on monday. i'm so excited, but i have so much anxiety about traveling alone. i've never had that problem before. i think my england anxiety is starting to show up a little by transferring to a smaller trip, you know? like the only trip i'm really anxious about is the one to lancaster, but because it feels kind of similar, my anxiety generalizes to just getting on a plan by myself, and therefore i'm anxious about monday. i just want to skip the airport and checking in and waiting and boarding and getting off the plane and getting my bags and just be there, you know?

like apparating. isn't that what they use in harry potter? that would be useful right about now.

you know, it also might be just because i have yet to do laundry and pack, so i feel very unprepared. little things make me absolutely crazy because they fly under the radar and mess things up.

i finished my saltwater song in charleston - it was wonderful. i made some lame excuse about going for a run and then went and walked on the beach in the dark for a good hour and a half with tim's ipod. it was such a nice release. i had so much stress built up from the first week of work that i just cried for the first 30 minutes and then stood and finished my song. it just kind of popped into my head, like crying broke down some creative block. i played it for jenn a couple days ago, apparently she had been thinking about that same song while i was in charleston, so i'm pretty sure that helped it come. i think some people are just connected like that.

it's been two years in the making - i wrote the chorus the summer before my freshmen year while we were in charleston and couldn't ever find verses to go with it until a few weeks ago, so it was a great feeling to finish. it's been a long time coming. i think i'm just going to call it "tonight." it needs a simple title.

it's funny what comes out when you just start typing, you know? things i didn't even know i still needed to process, but that i type a good two or three paragraphs about if i just let it go.

i've been re-reading catcher in the rye, but i don't think i'm in the mood for it anymore. i'm not really sure what i want to read, but it's not that. i still really love it, but i love it because it represents a really honest representation of a world-view. like i know people like holden - i've met teenage boys who feel exactly the same way and would communicate it how he does as well. which means that i really love reading it, but it is depressing. for me, it's because i can't talk to him. i can't ask him questions, i can't watch him grow out of it. holden's stuck in apathetic angst for eternity and i can't do anything about it. he's not dynamic, he's not alive. i realize he's a character, but i've always gotten too involved in stories, whether real or imagined. and i just can't be involved with holden's story right now. i need things that move and grow, because that's what i'm supposed to be learning about. how to help people grow out of things.

i might need some t.s. eliot. not that he's not depressing, but it's a different kind of depressing. a little more colorful, if muted. catcher in the rye is only ever grey, i think. or maybe i feel. i'm not really sure.

poems are good, too, because you can read a complete poem in one sitting and then process it, you know? you can't do that with novels, so they end up being these fragmented processes in my brain that don't necessarily fit together except they all have the same title. which is just confusing. the last thing i need is more fragments. i want some whole thoughts.

yes, i think my salmon hard-back will be the book of choice for the plane ride. seeing as how i probably shouldn't buy any magazines using money with which i should be paying for parking. i do like magazines for air travel, though. and in general - they let me day-dream in a much more concrete sense than does literature. if that makes any sense.

i guess i needed to get a post out, huh?

i'm going to go get some tea and play piano. and then watch crap tv until the service. and then, post-modernism!

last week's felt like home. i like groups where i get teary-eyed when i talk. it means it's hitting the kind of nerve that groups like that are supposed to.

well, bother.

it's been that kind of a day.

a bothersome one, i mean. closed up patients and awkward encounters that reveal how gaurded i am and the dashing of my idealist hopes. again.

*sigh*

it's ok.
i'm ok.

except not really at all. how am i supposed to open up in all this? i really don't get this process.

i feel like i'm being bombarded from almost every angle in little ways. but they add up. and i'm being asked to put my walls down at the same time.

i can't.

i don't think i can communicate how big of a leap we're talking here.

with that being said, i'm not going to stand on the edge this evening.