I do not miss my father. I sometimes find myself longing for the idea of what a father should be in my head… or maybe just another parent in general. My father was not who I painted him to be in my head, and God did I spend a lot of time painting him. My mother decided to dedicate her life to him a long time ago, long before I was brought into this world and long before death kissed him. Maybe she knew who he was before life turned on him and changed him or maybe she thought she saw a glimpse of hope in the past and hung on for dear life. But I cannot hold onto whatever she’s holding onto. I cannot overlook the facts and admire lies just because someone was taken out of this world. I don’t know if that makes me selfish or a terrible person, but I can’t make myself love someone that didn’t care enough to love me. I’m not resentful or bitter about it; I’ve just been really thinking about that lately and I think it’s time I’m honest with myself about it.
I broke down and paid to get my results because I can’t manage to wait until Monday… and I officially passed!!!
The best thing about indulgence is the rarity. The longer you yearn or work or wait for something, the higher the satisfaction is when you actually get it. It’s all about the balance. Too easy and it looses it’s value, too rare… the less you get to indulge… and possibly live. I like that.
I’m sick of all these excuses that boys have pushed in front of them. The need to be oh so manly standing in front of them being dignified human beings. Honestly, shut up. They are not wild, barbaric animals that are incapable of the thought process. Their mouth and their brain and every other part of their bodies are well functioning things.
It is not cool to think that just because males are males that they don’t have self control or that they have an altered perception. Men should be held accountable for what they do, because they’ve done it. Men should be expected to keep whatever sexual desires or lustful thought to themselves and possibly with a consenting partner(s). Men should be able to control their tempers even if that means seeking help. Men do not have a disability, they do not need to be tiptoed around, they do not need to be treated with special attention.
If a dog bites a person on their owners property, chances are they’re going to be put down… no questions asked. If a male rapes a female or assaults a female in anyway, the female is going to be intensely looked at under a microscope to see what she did to deserve it. I do not need to explain to you how many levels of wrong that is.
The problem is that when everyone tells someone that they can behave however they would like their entire life… they behave however they like… without considering anyone else. That’s a problem. And that’s the problem.
I’m really thankful to everyone in my life for putting up with my high stress levels and inability to be consistently social and also for turning down the unwavering faith that so many people have in me.
It’s exhausting to be in this constant stress mode for years at a time. I need to breathe. And I have along the way. But I need a deep breath… like a sigh of relief.
I can’t believe it guys…. but I’m actually a nurse!!
There have been plenty times in my life I’ve faced the face the potential wrath of failing. There was a time when I didn’t think I was going to pass art class (ha ha ha. I’m serious.) There was a time when I thought I wasn’t going to pass AP US history. There was a time I didn’t think I was going to be able to make a good decision regarding college. There was a time I didn’t think I was going to be accepted into the nursing program. There was a time I didn’t think I was going to survive the nursing program… and there is now… the time that I think I might now pass my board.
But for some reason, all those things have worked out for me- they beyond worked out for me. I would consider myself an artist at heart. I got an A in US history. I made the perfect decision in regards to college. I got into the nursing program the first time I applied. I survived and concord nursing school. Things have worked out for me so far. I have one final thing standing in front of me. It’s a lot of pressure. Half of me feels like I’m okay. I know what I’m doing. I know how to think through questions well, but the other half of me feels the pressure and feels the control with every small click of one single button. Those are really intimidating shoes to step into.
I hope this is meant to be.