This is a blog where you can throw your thoughts, like pennies into the fountain. Some are pretty and gold. Some are old and rusty. Some may be worthy of adding to a collection. Some people think of the value when they throw their penny. For others, it’s simply the act of throwing something into the water. Either way, it lands somewhere.
He barreled over them with a heavy, rotating sander. Each time, another layer was revealed. It was raw, underneath everything. It seemed fresh and beamed a light brown. They glowed as if they were relieved to be stripped of that old layer that had been on top of them for all those years. The house instantly became brighter because of those floors. Some would say, “they’re just floors.” But, they are the foundation in a home, what holds us up, what everything else is built upon. They are the base. If you choose to let it, even a floor can inspire you.
I have to go home, wash it all off. Leave it at work. Not take it home with me. Separate myself. Don’t let it consume me. Allow my mind to go into a quiet place. Force it to go there. The thoughts continue to come. Maybe I should call. No, I can’t. I have to stop. I wonder if she will be there tomorrow. I wonder if anyone will hear that baby’s sweet cry, like I did. I wonder if they will hold her. I have to stop thinking about it. I’m going to drive myself crazy. It’s hard to shut it off.
I once had dreams… I dreamt of being his wife, of being the mother of his child. I dreamt of graduating college and becoming a nurse. I dreamt of that dream job in labor and delivery. I dreamt of having a certain dog that I’d seen on television commercials for years. I dreamt of a cozy home with a yard. I used to dream of success, money and love. Now I dream of health, contentment and peace. The world around us makes us feel inadequate, never enough. Don’t forget to be content with what you have. Once upon a time, you dreamt for all that you have now. And if you find that your dreams have become a reality, enjoy it. There is much contentment in fulfillment. Create new dreams if the old ones have faded. Don’t ever stop dreaming.
I lay in my bed, trying to be still
But, my feet feel like they’re still moving
I close my eyes, trying to see the darkness
But, my eyes feel like they’re still scrolling
I rest my hands next to my thighs
But, they feel like they’re still typing and tapping
I try to stop the thoughts
But, my mind keeps racing
I try to focus on one object to ease my mind
But, I feel like I’m still staring at a screen
I try to hear the quiet
But, all I can hear is the noise
I try to escape
But, it’s all constantly going
It’s that time… that I get all to myself. I can focus on just me for a moment. Inhale. Exhale. Just breathe. Try to relax. Let my mind attempt to unwind from all of the tasks, to do’s and responsibilities. Just be. Just sit still for a moment. I can feel my mind starting to ease. Thoughts start to slow down. Oh, how I love this time with myself. It’s a time when I can remember who I am. I can do what I want. It’s a time that restores me. I’m so thankful for this time.
This job… why do I do it? It brings me home in a state of anxiety and panic which leads me to tears… Often times, reflecting over and over again on what I did, or didn’t do, what I could’ve done better, what I might have missed… it goes on and on… Consistent criticism and worry over the tasks, the care, the communication. Endless. It leads me to a state of stress that lingers in my body. It’s unhealthy. I continue to do this job. Why? Why subject myself to the high stress, the alarms, the blood, the emergencies, the fast paced hustle, the prioritizing, the sacrifice of not getting to pee or eat for hours, the feeling of having a completely fried and fatigued brain with nothing else left to give when returning home to my family? Some days are bliss, but some days are pure hell. Some days, I feel confident that the good outweighs the bad, but days like today make me wonder. Do you continue sacrificing yourself for others, or do you sacrifice the others for yourself?
They pushed her down the hall in a wheelchair. She hung her head and had a hood pulled over her head. I walked her to the room. I saw the bruise right away, under her eye. I softly asked her to tell me what happened. Tears streamed down her swollen cheeks. I knew what had happened before she even said the words. “He beat me again. I haven’t felt the baby move.” I reached for the fetal monitor and simultaneously said a prayer in my head. I placed it on her belly. The sound of that baby’s heart beating made us both sigh a breath of relief together. The knock came on the door. There he was. “Wait in the hall”, I told him. He would soon be escorted out of the building by security. The following moments were ups and downs, worry, fear, sadness, guilt, anger, uncertainty and anxiety. I went through all of these emotions with her, while trying to keep her calm. The calling of protecting her and her baby was so strong. I held her hand and coached her through all of the exams and tests. I reminded her that she was enough, that she was worth it, that her and her baby deserved a safe place. I called the shelter, the police, the sexual assault nurse. I was quite possible her only advocate in that moment. The hardest thing I had to do was watch her walk out that door. And now, I can only hope that she will be safe, that she will be ok, that someone will protect her and advocate for her like I did, that her baby will stay strong, and that they will both survive.
Need to release. All of the tasks, all of the noises. Finally at home, quiet. Now I have to find a way to shut it all out, to get back to my baseline, to let the stress escape. But it’s not that easy. All of the thoughts of the day replay in my mind. I still hear the noises and feel the chaos. My body is home, but my mind is still there. Stress plagues me. Just breathe. Be calm. It may take an entire day to remove myself from that place and arrive back in my place. I must get back to that happy place of tranquility.
I long for you to force me to inhale and exhale. When I reach up to peaceful warrior, I imagine that I am lifting up all of my insecurities and worries. I imagine them escaping my fingertips, leaving me cleansed. I stare onward, focused, knowing I AM a warrior. You build me. You bring me into life again. I feel strong, yet calm. I feel rich with oxygen. The depths of my lungs feel open again. The deep stretches feel so good. My soul is renewed. I lie still, not moving. I let my mind go wherever it wants. This is one of the greatest feelings in the entire world. Shavasana… one of the best words to hear. I am a corpse, but I am alive. I speak “namaste” aloud because I want the universe to hear me. I want to restate and remind all that I am once again centered and can conquer anything.
At some point, you have to stop. You have to make the decision and just do it. You have to suck it up and deal with whatever shitty emotions or feelings follow because you know that the alternative of continuing this terrible habit is worse. You have to find the strength deep within and use it. You have to understand the psychology that is in your own head. So, stop. And then, you remember that it’s easier said than done. You try, but you can’t stop. But, somehow you will find a way. You have to. You have no choice. You will not continue a toxic habit. You have to be an example and find a way to overcome. You have to continue fighting the fight, even if you never win. At least you can say that you never gave up.