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led astray

January 2013

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led astray

stuff and goo

Let me start with something positive.  I had a great weekend with Marc.  There were lots of board games, some with my friends, some with his.  Things are going well.  I spent yesterday sober and it was pretty ok.  I was nervous about meeting some of his friends, but they were welcoming and it was cool.  We had brunch at Sound Bites, which was crowded but very tasty.

I probably shouldn't have stayed up with Hoyce and house guest watching Walking Dead last night.  I had ridiculously bad, graphic dreams that I should write down before I forget.  It would make a great horror movie.  The dream people and I were being chased by a psycho and killed in horrible ways and we couldn't find a way out and I think 5-6 people (of around 20) survived.  We kinda won in the end, but it was rough and sad.  Horror depicted on screen doesn't usually effect me that strongly.  I'm pretty sure it's stress induced. Grandma called me Saturday after I (carelessly) got high earlier in the week and thought it would be nice to email her my shepherd's pie recipe.  The conversation was everything I imagined and had been avoiding for half the year.  Guilt and criticism and stress, oh my.

Digging into my feelings about nursing, I come upon some ugliness.  I don't like hospitals.  They remind me of my mother, who used to bring me to work and try to get me to lie for her about why she had been out or late, and sit with her, run films, all kinds of fun, bonding moments I didn't want.  I see internal imaging and I feel disgust.  And I know she's not in Boston.  It's still skeevy.  I'm going to have to face this shit and get over it.  Then there's the family legacy to consider.  I come from a long line of medical professionals, because that's one of the 2 acceptable career paths.  "You can't get other jobs.  Those are the only professions that are in constant need of workers." - G-ma.  So my aunt (who wanted to be a forest ranger) is a psychiatric nurse, mother an imaging technician, grandmother and great aunts RNs.  All of my reptilian brain areas tell me to flee and/or brutalize the very notion of me walking into this kind of life.  These are people I don't just dislike.  Yet, I have no other ideas.  The power of the truth, that there is always demand for medical professionals, is crushing my rebellious spirit.  I'm sick to death of being undecided, but I'm not sure that nursing isn't something I'm clinging to out of desperation.  It's a worthy occupation, to be sure.  Can I do it?  'Do I want to do it' becomes less relevant every day I go without a job.  I'm disappointed with myself for my lack of aspiration, ambition.  I am weak willed and lazy, easily discouraged and full of doubt in myself.  The real truth is that I don't want to ever have to work, especially to have to start at the bottom.  I feel like I've always been at the bottom, like I may always be at the bottom.  I was taught not to think about what I want to be when I grow up (except for teacher or nurse, of course) because I could never do that.  And that mentality has a firm grip, so that I fail before I even begin.  My indecision has turned into something of a lifestyle, and one that I'm not happy with.

I really want a blunt right now.



You're not wrong. You're not even an asshole. ;-P

I'm only beginning to recognize my need for sobriety. Being calm and content all the time doesn't help my appetite for change. Weed is a crutch and I'm afraid to walk without it. It doesn't register as bad to me because I'm not causing anyone (other than myself, possibly) any harm. I like the Me that shows up when I'm high. She's sweet and thinks good thoughts and says nice things to people and, well, is all the things I want to be.