The Last Thing I Heard Was You Whispering Goodbye

(Skillet – Not Gonna Die)

I’m not sure where I am going with this post, but I know there are a lot of one to two sentence mini-posts on shreds of paper in my pencil bag, so I can feel like I am accomplishing something by cleaning them up if I write it down here so I don’t need the paper reminders anymore.

I heard an advertisement recently…that is probably not great advertising because I haven’t got a clue what they were trying to sell me…but anyway, it said “Mountains: they’re like treadmills that go somewhere.” I really just liked how that sounded…but after more thought, it also seems really true about where I am in life. It feels like I work and work and work at achieving my goals, but I look down and am basically in the exact same place I started. Like turning on the treadmill I want to be making progress, but I am still standing in basically the exact same spot…but mountains can be really big and really hard to climb. Maybe if I look a little closer I am not really in the exact same spot, but it just looks that way because the mountain ahead of me is still has so far to go so the distance I’ve climbed just in comparison is harder to identify. You can’t climb Mount Everest in a single day. You’d get altitude sickness before you reached the top probably even with prophylactic medications. And you can’t climb the roadblocks in life instantly either.

Another thing, I have listened to “The Healing Path” by Dan Allender more times than I could possibly count. I can pretty much recite maybe even the majority of the book. So you might think I really couldn’t get anything more out of it than I already have…but Wednesday I gained some new understanding while listening to the book. Dan talks about how when someone initially comes into contact with an abuser they tend to feel uncomfortable, but the abuser hasn’t necessarily done anything wrong yet, or if they have it isn’t obviously abusive and isn’t really *that* bad, so the victim doesn’t realize that anything is actually wrong and doesn’t run away, but that feeling of discomfort makes us feel like we should have known better. I was listening and realized that is exactly what I had said to someone the day before. “I should have known better.” The words I said to this person were so similar to the words Dan said that we often say to ourselves to blame ourselves. I never realized how normal that was to have that nagging feeling that some of this was my fault. It was a healing revelation to see, first, that I am not alone in feeling that way, and second, that it really is not my fault even if there was some discomfort prior to the outright abuse. Yes, I felt like there was a problem on the “meet (name here)” day second year, but I mean it was easy to write off what was said or not said with the simple explanation that she just was new-ish still and didn’t know how to interact in the environment at our school. Looking back, yes, it was a huge waving red flag, but I have to remember that at the time I had no way of knowing what would be coming next, so I can’t judge past-self based on what future-self knows. Past-self was a compassionate and forgiving person who saw the good in every single person and had no context for understanding what was really going on.

In this section of the book, Dan goes on to say that the abuser *intentionally* involves the victim and makes them feel like they are part of the process and tries to make them feel pleasure at parts of the process to make them feel like they enjoyed and wanted the treatment they received. I guess I had never really paid all that much attention to that part. It was eye-opening to realize it wasn’t just frustrating to me that I sometimes felt like it was my fault because I was involved but that it is actually planned to make me feel that way in order to ensnare me more deeply. A victim is never to be blamed for the abuse. Yes, if I had recognized it for what it was and had been able to figure out how to break free sooner I could have stopped some of the harm from occurring in the first place, but I was doing the best I could with what I had. I have to  remember that I was a girl who spoke very few words and my abuser used that to her advantage; she was supposed to be helping me learn to speak but knew it was to her advantage to keep me silent. When on my own I did gain further ability to express myself it made it worse because it upset her plans and she then had to find a way to keep me quiet despite my growing ability to communicate. While an ethical counselor teaches that it is not shameful to have a mental illness, she taught shame to her clients to keep the abuse more hidden. That is an area where I threw a wrench in her plans in that I had already conquered the fear of shame and was very open about things so she had to put her eggs mostly in the silence basket at first. I’m guessing it was difficult and scary to teach someone shame who has already been taught to feel no shame, so it was dangerous because there was always a risk I would share enough that someone would find out what was going on. When I did start expressing myself more she really picked up the shame agenda with more force to ensure her continued safety a little longer and pushed harder on her other agendas to make sure if somehow things didn’t slip she’d be able to make me seem less credible. And yeah, I did learn shame. Unfortunately, she couldn’t take away my compassionate personality. I didn’t want anyone to be hurt – at first not even her – so I stubbornly refused to tell the whole story. That is another place where I inaccurately place a lot of blame on myself. Yes, the way I got out was not following the rules, but I was in survival mode and getting where I needed to be the only way I knew how. I didn’t know what I was doing. God knew and God protected me. I blame myself though, that she is still on campus in a position to hurt more people and also that my punishment was so harsh rather than being protected and helped through the abuse. I feel like I will always have the nagging at the back of my mind that maybe if I hadn’t been trying to protect her and had explained all the things that had happened up front that maybe things could have been different. I guess even now I am afraid though that if I’d done that she might have hurt her girls if they hadn’t already been hurt. I also can take a step back and realize that even if I had said everything right away there is no guarantee I could have really changed anything.

Anyway, shame is something no one should be taught. Humans are made for connection, yet shame leads us to hide. And then there were the stupid rules prohibiting me from sharing anything or sharing that I wasn’t allowed to share anything, so I had to put on the mask and be okay all the time. If the mask slipped I was at risk of being kicked out of school, and that is terrifying for someone with few to no transferable credits who has been in school for a few years working towards the degree she needs to do the only thing she wanted since early childhood. If the mask slipped, someone would want to know why I was upset, and this girl is way too honest for her own good. It killed my heart to at most be able to vaguely express that there were just some things going on. I was too honest to pretend it was just academic stress, and I sure wasn’t going to lie and say I didn’t want to talk about it when there was nothing I would rather have done than talked about what was going on. I so desperately wanted to talk about it, yet I could not. I looked forward so eagerly to graduation when I would finally be able to say whatever I liked. I was thrilled…and then I didn’t match and my grief outweighed that excitement. What good was it to be able to talk about my past when I felt like I had no future? I was still happy to no longer be under the oppressive restrictions and the gag order, but it wasn’t at the top of my every waking moment like it had been before. But anyway, the shame and then the imposed silence when I was learning to speak kept me the girl standing in the pouring rain with a smile on my face saying “I’m dry, really, I’m dry” when clearly I was anything but dry. Yet I’ve continued that to today when I no longer risk being kicked out of school for expressing myself and sharing my story. I am learning to be more open, but I still do spend much of my time professing that I am dry when it doesn’t take a genius to realize that no, I am not…especially when my walls start to fall. I am not really sure why I am hiding how I feel. Maybe it is the shame. Maybe it is a result of responses I’ve gotten in the past to sharing that make it scary to let people in. Maybe it is because I barely had gained my voice when it was taken away for that type of communication and so I never really had the opportunity to learn those skills. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I need to change that. I don’t know how to find safe people though.

After being abused, it is really important to find safe people, because trust is super hard and you have to learn how to trust again, and every setback with a less than safe person makes the climb to regain the ability to trust that much more difficult. I had after the overtly abusive relationship, a few other mental health “professionals” who were anything but professional and used their position to inflict further harm. That made it even harder to believe that it really could be good and safe to trust people and let them in. My experience told me that people were going to hurt me so I might as well give them as little ammunition as possible. Trust is so incredibly difficult after being abused, especially when it was inflicted by someone who should have been protecting me, but instead used her power to cause harm. Like it says in “The Healing Path,” betrayal hardens the arteries of trust.

In the book, it also says that no victim ever remains solely a victim. This is not to heap blame on the victim, or to pile on more guilt, but to say that in the abusive relationship it is inevitable that at some point the victim will act in such a way that the abuse is perpetuated, and that in other relationships the victim may develop a tendency to disengage or take flight from risk. I love the reminder that because of sin entering in the world, it is impossible for the victim to ever truly be completely innocent…and oh how true it is that the abuse in one relationship affects others. I think the people that I was close to probably got a really good picture of that. Things that should have been little and hardly even worth notice became mountains dividing the relationship at times because my ability to trust was so tenuous, or because that really was just the one last drop causing the cup to overflow. Which reminds me of an analogy I saw recently. It was describing that sometimes what we see as bad behavior in certain kids is really just a product of their environment. Some kids come to school with a cup that is basically empty, so any hardship that adds a little water to the cup is easily held and contained, but other kids come to school with their cup nearly to the top because there is a lot going on in their home. For those kids even a minor inconvenience can add enough to the cup that it spills all over the table. I feel like I have been living with an almost full cup for a long time. Skipping over some of the issues is high school, name retracted started my second year, and started causing trouble then, which led to on and off issues. Then third year the entire year I was in relationship with her which meant I was basically in survival mode the entire year. Then the next two years the restrictions and the continued abuse left me in survival mode most of the time. I got a reprieve for at least parts of sixth year, but then I failed to match and I was back in survival mode…and I failed again and I was finally doing at least a little better when I lost my pediatric job…and then almost got it back but lost it again…and then failed to match again last year…and then failed to match this year. No kidding my cup is full, there has barely been time to sit the cup down much less to let any water evaporate. It seems rather like the water just keeps pouring into my already overflowing cup and all I can do is just watch the water run down the table onto the floor just soaking everything.

 I also am realizing though, that I have made progress even if it sometimes seems like I am right back where I started and maybe even moving backwards. If I look now versus a month ago, it is hard to see much change…I am still really struggling. I am still fighting to get enough food and water in my body. Sleep is still a struggle. I am still fighting back tears on and off all day. But if I compare to two years ago I am doing SO much better. Two years ago at this time I had lost nearly 50 pounds in about a month and was doing everything I could to gain back some of the weight or at least not keep losing, but it was such a struggle and I was still spending much of every day crying – I couldn’t just keep it in whether I was alone or with people I was falling apart. And I was taking every waking moment to be as active as possible even walking in the pouring rain in puddles up to my shins because when my body was in motion was the only time I was able to still my mind enough to even feel moderately kind of sort of okay. 

On phase II match day I posted something that in retrospect I should not have posted. I was not very respectful in declaring what I had learned in the past few years, so I would like to re-visit that topic. So, like I said before, a few days before match day someone asked me what I had been learning and I had no idea what to say because I knew it was not the appropriate time to crack a negative joke, but really the pain in my life and the fear of the potential upcoming devastation was clouding my ability to think of anything appropriate to fill in the blank…and really, I say I used to have social anxiety and potentially selective mutism, but if I am being really honest, I still have tendencies that lean towards social anxiety. I still feel at times like words have dissolved and are running in rivulets into a raging river far away from my grasp. So, I think I am learning that it is possible for people to want to be nice to me not to get anything from me or as a form of grooming or out of feeling obligated, but because they actually care. That might sound like duh, but in high school it was painfully obvious that I had lots of people interested in being nice to me when there was potential for us to be partners on a project because they knew I would get it done well, but as soon as there wasn’t anything else I had to offer they weren’t interested in me anymore. And when you have been through what I’ve been through, not only do you start to believe that you really are undesirable, but you also learn to be cautious, always analyzing what this person is going to want in exchange for their kindness.

So yeah, I am still feeling angry and frustrated and lost. I don’t know where to go from here. I am not stupid, I know my chances go down every year and I have very little chance at this point of reaching residency if I didn’t get there this year. I also know without residency that I most likely can’t ever have a job I don’t hate, much less an opportunity to get a job I love. I don’t know what to do. I’ve thrown my whole life at this goal. I’ve thrown my energy and time and effort and money at it and just gotten rejection. It feels so true that no one will want me. That I can’t do it. I am angry that God won’t help me and let me have a residency. I am frustrated that God just leaves me alone until I totally crash before he bothers showing up again later. Like sure, I appreciate the help getting through the grief, but if you’d actually helped me sooner I wouldn’t be here in the depths of grief in the first place. I probably shouldn’t say stuff like that. I’m supposed to know that God is good and is omnipresent and omnipotent and profoundly caring, but it doesn’t feel like that is true. And maybe I will regret posting this, but y’know, judgment can be a little skewed when your current thankfulness for a better night’s sleep was maybe 4 hours. I am so exhausted. I’ve been running on fumes for a long time.

I was never supposed to be here. This wasn’t part of my plans. Nothing in life has gone according to my plans. I was supposed to graduate at SSEFC. I was supposed to be one of the people giving the seniors a gag gift but explaining why it was super meaningful – h**k, I’d even picked out the gift and thought about what I’d say, and that was still probably 5 or more years away at the time I had to leave. I was supposed to go to the school I had tailored my high school curriculum around and had repeatedly visited and stuff. I was supposed to transition from intern to PGY-1 resident. I was supposed to be dead before I ever got to where I am living now…basically everything I have ever planned for my life has been turned on it’s head. Sometime in the past few weeks, the desk I like best in the ED has been turned into an extra social work workstation. I figure I can move if someone wants to sit there, so I have continued using it, and found a pile of cards that say something like “in crisis? text Hello to #######.” I really liked how friendly that sounded so I put the little gray card in my pencil bag. But yeah, I could be described as in crisis, but I am not brave enough to text that number. #socialanxietythings… Another thing I am not brave enough to do is kill myself. People think suicide is a weak surrendering way out, but it takes way more courage than I have to kill yourself, because you are going to hurt someone.

Totally changing gears, but I started thinking about forgiveness, and I don’t think I know what forgiveness really is. I know a lot about what it is not, but I don’t really understand what it is. I know it isn’t believing that what was done was okay. I know it doesn’t have to mean that you ever want the other person in your life. I know the other person doesn’t have to be sorry. Wait a sec, I do have the google right in front of me…lol…google says that forgiveness is the deliberate decision to release feelings of resentment and vengeance towards a person that has caused you harm. Umm, okay, so now I know what it is, but thinking about that, I have no idea how you do that. How do I not feel like that? Today I was walking home from work and there was someone driving a car who had a similar hairstyle to (name here) and I stopped in my tracks and had to calm myself down and breathe because the fear overtook me. If I have that much of a physical automatic reaction to someone who honestly wasn’t even *that* similar to her, how am I supposed to not have negative thoughts about her? I don’t understand how that is possible. I want that. I really want that. But I don’t know how it is possible to get there.


Do I have to bleed for you to see me?



These lyrics are where I have come to rest right now in my journey with God. It feels like he abandons me until I am hurt and then is like oh yeah, now I’ll help you. I feel so frustrated. I’m tired of working as hard as I can just to be crushed. I don’t understand why God won’t write a good story with my life.


I can see God working in the details now, but where was God when I wanted a position in the Scramble? I was even willing to take an unpaid position in Hawaii. I just wanted *something* besides pain to show for my effort. Where was God in phase II when I applied to 20 programs and worked twelve hour days to fit in the few interviews I did get? Where was God when I applied in phase I and went to midyear and worked nearly every weekend in December and January and used a ton of PTO to have interview time in February? Where was God last year when I didn’t even get a position at the hospital at which I currently work in phase II? God was there letting me get the best rejection letter I’ve ever gotten in my life, but I wanted the position, not the letter. Where was God in phase I, II, and Scramble the year before that? In the past three years I’ve applied about 100 times and all I’ve got to show for it is pain in my life and $7000 less in my bank account. Even before the residency, where was God when I was being abused? Easter is a celebration that the God who was silent on Saturday is alive. It sure seems like there is more than my fair share of Saturday in my life.

I’m Running on Yesterday’s Fumes

(More Than I Am – Christa Wells)


Sometimes I do not know what I believe.


It seems like God either doesn’t care or doesn’t have power if he keeps letting me be crushed.


But then it’s like I can at least kinda sorta see God’s hand in getting me through it.


And I’m like so is God there and doing something and somehow got distracted and forgot about me for awhile or is God not really doing any of this and it is just my church background letting me “see” him doing anything at all?


My manager is great and wants to support me. I’ve had two meeting with him in the past month. The first was after lunch on phase I match day. I don’t really know if somehow someone found out that there is a lot more going on than just disappointment, but the director of pharmacy took me out into the hall maybe a week later to ask if I was okay. And then last week I had another meeting with my manager. Supposedly it was just a normal one-on-one that the website says every employee is supposed to have on a regular basis and sometimes happens but sometimes doesn’t, but in any case my supposed one on one he really skipped pretty much every single question on the one-on-one form and just kept talking about God and stuff. Like I mentioned before, he also gave me a word for part of how I am feeling: anger. It was really frustrating hearing someone at work talking about God when I am so frustrated with God. I am way too polite to be like I don’t care because I don’t know if I even believe in God anymore and I don’t really trust him right now to have good plans or make things work out. But y’know, as much as I kinda felt annoyed, I think it was probably good for me to hear those things.


A week and a half ago I was dreaming about how I could use up the money I’ve set aside for vision and dental expenses before I lose it by getting a residency and leaving my job. Now I am totally overwhelmed with the fact that I was due for a dentist appointment a little over a month ago and cancelled it because I just couldn’t deal with it right then…and now I gotta pick a dental office and make an appointment, because I live almost 2 hours from the dentist I have been using plus their idea of an emergency is waiting a couple months, so trying to schedule a non-emergency appointment would be a struggle to get anything closer than 6 months from now which is way further out than I know is appropriate. Part of me also doesn’t care. It is on my to do list for the weekend…but so are plenty of other things that chances are I won’t manage. I try really hard, but there is a definite limit to what I can accomplish…especially when just getting up and getting dressed and making it through the day is still using everything I have.



I am so exhausted. Yesterday I was thinking maybe today I would be ready to try eating breakfast (not just a piece of candy at work or something but actually eating at home or on the way). Yeah, that didn’t happen. When you get your butt out of bed 20 minutes before you need to leave for work you definitely don’t have time to push yourself to do anything but that which must be done…if it were an actual good day no matter how late I got up there would have been something for breakfast, but in survival mode there is no energy to both push getting a breakfast ready and eating it and getting to work on time.


The thing is, if I can stay busy and distracted I can do reasonably well, so when I am in the routine of going about my day at work, as long as it doesn’t get too slow, I can become absorbed in work and do fine, but as soon as I lose that distraction I am not doing well. As a result, you can probably imagine that winding down for bed and the morning when I get up can be some of the hardest parts of the day with the most tears. It has kind of been a blessing having morning shifts this week so that I can get up and getting into the rush to shower get dressed get lunch packed and get out the door can keep my mind occupied enough to not struggle so much. But that doesn’t fix the evening. I am still having crying breakthrough interrupting my game of bejeweled. I am still trying sometimes less than successfully to stay up late enough to not end up crying once I have nothing but the radio and sleep to take my mind away from the pain. And if I don’t stay up late enough and end up crying obvi that keeps me up instead. So either way I am staying up at least an hour late and sometimes later every night and yeah, I am “sleeping” in at least an hour every morning if not more, but emotions are exhausting. And my body has never done well with making up sleep in the morning. And there is no guarantee I won’t be awake in the middle of the night. It was pretty normal for a long time for me to wake up in the middle of the night thirsty, drink most of my water bottle then go back to sleep. Part of that I think changed when I got into more crazy shift work with this job, but now I wake up but can’t stand the idea of putting water in my mouth not to mention feel way too exhausted to reach over and actually pick up the water bottle. The one night I tried, I ended up with water all over my pillow because I poured it kind of in my mouth but more like next to my mouth because I wasn’t ready to put anything in my mouth…and then I left it open and next to me which obvi isn’t the smartest decision.


So yeah, all that to say that just the emotion itself is exhausting, but there is definitely a sleep debt component to the exhaustion as well.


The internet says I should exercise 30 minutes every day and that would make me feel better. I really want to know how the internet supposes that I am supposed to find the energy for that. Or the time. If I finally can find the motivation to do something, it is going to be something important like cleaning the kitchen counters or putting away some clean dishes out of the dishwasher and eventually replacing them with the dirties from the sink and my lunch box. Or maybe buying some fruit since I am now completely out if you don’t count packets of jelly. And like really? I am getting enough calories now that I could justify exercise if I wanted to do it, but Sunday I made it a grand total of 1.5 miles on my bike…which took nowhere near 30 minutes, and I was totally wiped out.


Yesterday one of my coworkers texted me and I really miss her and my other coworkers and my job there and I am frustrated that I can’t work there anymore and I am angry that the girl I informally mentored got a position there and I didn’t even get an interview this year and that is all I wanted for like ever and it feels like I will never get to ever do anything even kind of close to my dreams. I just want to be happy. Maybe that is why I lean towards going back to school at a Christian school. The people in the advertisements all look so happy and I want that. I think more than I want to be a pediatric critical care pharmacist I want to be happy. I’d do almost anything to feel good. I wish I didn’t care so much about other people so I could just go to forever home. I’m so done with this life. I am not a quitter, but I wish I was.


Today one of my former coworkers friended me on facebook. I miss her so much. She gave me hope two years ago…as it turns out the hope ended up letting me crash some more but it was a little bit of hope that I did desperately need at the time. She made me smile. She is a pharmacist, but she got a second job as a swim instructor. I used to be a swim instructor. It was the best thing ever. Well, parts of it were. I LOVED working with kids, but working with parents was a nightmare. My first day a parent yelled at me that their kid was going to learn nothing because he didn’t cry. So yeah. I mean, there definitely were some really amazing parents, but even with them I struggled because socially I was not yet anywhere as close to as skilled then as I am now, and anyone who knows me knows that even now I am working really hard to come across as almost good enough to pass as normal in casual conversation so in situations in which other people have to work hard I am in way over my head…the only other problem I had with that job (besides the issue of the fact that their solution to hiring a bunch of people to fill a few harder to fill shifts and then those people also wanting the highly sought after shifts was to give people 30-45 minute shifts each) was that once in a while they would try to get me to teach diving challenge. Yeah, that wasn’t going to work because I only know the dives required to pass the American Red Cross swim lessons which are both completely stupid dives and are not what the diving class was supposed to be doing. Additionally, the pools I worked for had some policies that made it unsafe for me to both follow the rules AND dive. See, they forbid both wearing glasses and wearing goggles when diving. I would like to know what idiot came up with that rule. I have little to no vision without my glasses or prescription goggles. I can’t safely walk to the end of the diving board to even just jump off. The one time I couldn’t get out of that on a training day I was the one sitting down and using my hands to guide myself forward. Diving from the side you don’t need a lot of space so as long as no one is at your feet no problem, but if I was going to jump or dive from the board the other issue is that I had no way of knowing if I was about to jump on top of someone and considering that during lesson time the pool was jam packed with people, there was no way it was ever going to be safe for me to go off the board while following the rules. I love jumping and diving off the board, so if no one was looking or a manager who cared more about safety than the rules was working that day I’d go ahead and do what I needed/wanted to do so I could teach all the aspects of my classes as long as I didn’t end up with a diver challenge class. Only two times did they ever try to put me in charge of a diving class. Both times by the end of the first class I was no longer in charge and both times I felt really frustrated because I was very upfront about what I liked teaching best and what I was completely unable to teach and was told it was totally fine if I couldn’t teach diving – I could do just swimming – and then suddenly there’d be a class with my name on it and they’d be annoyed when I said I couldn’t do that class and make me at least gather the students and start the class…and I had no business starting that class. Kids would ask what dives are we learning today and I’d be like I have no idea. They’d tell me what usually happened in diving classes and I’d have them do that while trying to get someone’s attention to take over for me.

Promise to Never Let Go

(Tightrope – Greatest Showman)

Sometimes you have to show mercy to yourself.


Today that looks like accepting that, yes, at 4:10pm I was just finishing lunch and was on my bed wearing the pajama pants I put back on after showering, still hadn’t combed my hair and only had the fact that lunch was inside my body to show for my entire day.


Yesterday I decided to work on reading and/or deleting some of my unread emails in between church and going to work. One of them was a notification of a new post on a blog I probably subscribed to 5-10 years ago to enter some kind of contest. Usually I just delete it, because I would feel bad unsubscribing, but for some reason this time I decided to click on the link. The post itself wasn’t really anything to write home about, but in the post, the blogger wrote about a podcast, “More than Small Talk.” I have now listened to all 18 episodes and some were better than others, but I did enjoy them and felt some small bit of connection. Those podcasts are where the thought about showing mercy came from. The podcasts made me feel less alone and gave me a little hope, because while my situation is very different, I could see parallels between what they were talking about and things that I had felt at times in my life…and if I can connect with something right now while life is a constant struggle then you know it is something really good. I tried to start listening to a book yesterday on my way to and from work, and I have no idea what the book is about except that someone came over to someone else’s home and that person doesn’t live in London. So yeah…


Sometimes you just have to keep doing what you can.


This morning I was annoyed because for at least since yesterday (maybe longer, but again, survival mode…I have no idea how long it has been) my left foot has felt itchy in one particular spot and it was starting to drive me crazy. So yeah, I looked at it to see if it was scraped or something where I could just cover it with a bandaid to solve the problem or if it was more like a bug bite where the only thing that was going to work was to be patient (ugh). As it turns out, at some point I got a splinter. I took the splinter out and my skin is still not happy because you  obvi aren’t supposed to leave splinters in for an entire day or more, but it isn’t as annoying as it was…


I removed the chairs that belong at the table from the bathroom and removed the shoes from the bathtub and put the blanket on the couch and got out a clean cutting board and knife so I’d stop using the ones that saw raw egg. If I can keep finding energy just a little longer I have high hopes for taking out the trash and turning on the dishwasher, preferably with all the dirty dishes from my lunch box inside.


The thing is, no matter what happens in my life, life as a whole continues to go on. That means no matter how much I just want to let go and give up, there will always be things I really should be doing, and eventually I need to do them…and if I can get just a few things done once in a while that helps to take down some of the mountain I will be staring down later. Like the song Caleb from J House wrote one time, every single thing I do gets me one step closer.


And sometimes doing just one thing is the motivation I need to climb the wall of awful (Jessica McCabe of How to ADHD reference) and get one MORE thing done.


So I guess I am going to stop writing now hoping I can get more done. I might not, but it is definitely something I should be at least trying to do.



There is no fight left on the inside

(JJ Heller – No Fight Left)

I really should find a way to express myself more respectfully. The way I expressed myself earlier this week wasn’t the most respectful. Just because I am hurting doesn’t make it okay to potentially hurt other people.

Someday I will probably really believe again that God cares, but right now I can’t. I just can’t.

My manager put a word to part of how I am feeling right now. Anger.

I managed to shower and get dressed and make it to church on time and at least try to pretend to smile and stuff. I wanted to be by myself so I could walk out if I was struggling, but someone couldn’t understand the whole look preoccupied thing meant leave me alone and asked to sit by me, so I wasn’t going to be a bad Christian and say no. And so I was stuck…’cause you can’t exactly walk out when someone is sitting by you.

I left and I should have eaten lunch but I looked at the fridge and the ball of anger and frustration and hurt in my needed to escape and I didn’t want to eat anything and I couldn’t force another unwanted meal into my mouth. So I decided to ride my bike. I pulled off my skirt and pulled my jeans over my shorts and took off the outer tank top leaving just the inner tank top behind. I put on white gloves (dumbest idea ever considering everything in the garage is covered in a layer of black dirt) and went to my bike. The tires definitely needed some air, but I needed to escape before the tears did. So I rode it that way as hard and fast as I could…

For about 0.75 miles until about 16 hours or so since my last food or water intake plus being out of shape plus all the other exhaustions caught up with me and I had to stop and sit down. I was empty…like the song, “there is no fight left on the inside, but maybe that’s where I supposed to be; I’ve given up trying, I’m giving it all away.” I’m not sure if that song is about suicide, but it kinda sounds that way. I was going to give Dan Allender a chance, but I guess that book got returned on my Hoopla app so I had to settle for the book I did have, Fear Has a Name. The part that it randomly opened to was the guy deciding that the only possibility was suicide. Oh, also those 0.75 miles brought me to be sitting on the ledge on the sidewalk of a bridge…I thought about what it would be like to be brave enough to not worry about everyone else and just end it. Then I started feeling like even more of a failure because I am not even brave enough to kill myself…

So then I decided it was time to go home. I started walking until I was ready to ride again and made my slow way home, kicking the snow in anger and when I ran out of energy for that, just letting my feet hit the snow as I slowly rolled past.

I hadn’t checked my mailbox since Tuesday so I did that. It was empty and defeated just like my heart.

I tried really hard to eat. It took all the energy in me to pour some fruit in a bowl and put it in my mouth a piece at a time hoping eventually I’d get tired of it being there and eat it rather than spitting it back out into the bowl…and that brings me to now. I’ve eaten some fruit and some cookie. Not exactly a complete lunch, but I don’t have the energy to keep trying right now so maybe later. At this point breakfast is a lost cause and I don’t really care. To this point I’ve been able to keep my weight stable and as long as that stays the case, nutrition and normal eating can take a back seat for all I’m concerned. “I’m giving up trying.”

I try to go warm but I just go colder

(Beauty from Pain – Superchick)

All I do is fail. I fail and fail and fail.


This week someone asked me what I am learning.


I was silent then and had no idea… but now I know.


I’m learning God doesn’t care. God doesn’t listen. God forgot to finish my story with any kind of positive ending.


I’m learning maybe it wasn’t abuse but the truth that I’ll never be wanted. I’ll never be good enough. I can’t be the pharmacist I want to be.


I’m learning that working harder and throwing more money at a problem will never be good enough. My mom always taught me that a problem that money can solve is not a problem…so I guess this is a real problem because I’ve thrown lots of money at it and it isn’t solved.


I’m learning I s*ck at guarding my heart. I let in too much hope that maybe I’d match this time. I let myself wonder *where* instead of *if* I’d match. I let myself fantasize about apartment hunting and getting licensed and all that crap. I made the effort to spend almost 12 hours at work in order to have time to interview with people who didn’t really ever want me anyway. I thought I was working hard to get what I wanted…I was just setting myself up for more pain.


I guess I am also learning how to take care of myself while my brain is somewhere between turned off and survival mode. Yesterday I knew there was a possibility today could be hard. So I bought some candy on the way home hoping something would help me keep some calories in my body. I guess it worked. I couldn’t make myself eat breakfast this morning, but I eventually got 3 pieces of sour cherry candy in my mouth. It’s only 30 calories, but that is more than zero…so there’s that.

To Hide in the Shadows…I Wouldn’t Know the Beauty of Being Free

(We are Messengers – Maybe It’s Okay)


“But I’m just not that strong”


These were the last words of the video I watched a couple days ago. It bugged the h**k out of me that the whole story didn’t get told, but that last line left me feeling like I connected.


People tell me I am resilient. People tell me I am brave. People tell me I persevere…but I don’t feel like those things are true. Sometimes it just feels like life is going to drown me. The image I had in my head in high school was that sometimes there was like a flood and I was clinging to the ceiling rafters for dear life just trying to keep my head above water but also terrified knowing that if the water goes up much higher there will be no more possibility of keeping my head above water. Similarly, the image I get now is a raging river and there are bricks strapped to my body keeping me from swimming or fighting the current, and there are rocks and maybe even a waterfall coming up and I am desperate and grab onto weeds on the side of the river. I know eventually the weeds will break when forced to deal with the tension of my body being pulled against them. I keep fighting, but I know ultimately no matter what I do, I am doomed to lose the fight. But I am a fighter. I refuse to just give up. I fight and fight and fight just trying to survive when what I really want is to thrive, but I am exhausted and it is hard when there might not even be an end.


The radio dude today said that change is painful. Growth is painful, but staying stuck where you don’t want to be is the most painful of all.


Another radio dude was talking about how when someone is hopeless it should be a nurse’s job to either provide help or get help for the person to come to terms with their circumstances and move forward, but the American Nurses Association has now come out with the idea that nurses should be non-judgmental about patients’ decision to end their lives. Apparently in the guidance statement, the association recommends that nurses identify their own bias to help prevent it from impacting their care of a patient. The radio dude put into better words than I could have how wrong this position is. You are either for or against death, and there is no way to not be judgmental about it, and not only that, but this is a decision with deadly consequences. The wrong choice literally leads to death. How can a nurse whose role is supposed to be to promote healing possibly supposed to be non-judgmental about killing someone? Homicide is never okay even if the person you are killing thinks they want to be killed.


On Tuesday I was thinking on my way to my car that I wish I could go back to high school when supposedly I was throwing my life away because I could do anything and all I wanted to do was pharmacy. As much as I hated that people didn’t respect what I wanted to do and didn’t understand the potential challenges in pharmacy, and as much as I hated when people acted like I was perfect refusing to believe that I was succeeding not because I was so awesome but because I was working harder than anyone else, it did feel better for people to recognize I had potential than to be where I am now being constantly rejected and facing the words I heard over and over that I’d never make it; I’d never be wanted as a pharmacist. It feels true. Then as I was driving to work, the song No Matter What by Ryan Stevenson came on and it starts “a lot of us grew up believing at any moment we could lose it all…thinking we’re just too far gone.” And then it goes on to how now we should know no matter what God is there wanting to help us live our best lives. It caught me in those words how backwards that is of my life, yet how true it is that even when it seems like God has moved on, that I have value.


Thursday is going to the critical access hospital where they took out our pharmacy day when I work my critical access site. So I had a lot of time in my car…and there were three songs that I don’t even know why I liked them. Maybe it was the words, or the music, or both, or just that I had been struggling to find a radio station I could actually pick up, but I really loved “Famous For” by Alexis Slifer, “Something Broke” by Jeremy Benjamin, and “Is He Worthy” by Andrew Petersen. Also, funny story, when I pulled up the songs on youtube to find out what their names were, both of the first two songs music videos started with a girl laying on the floor in the clearing of a forest.


K. So the rest of this I prob shouldn’t have even thought about posting…but sometimes I don’t care that much about what I should or shouldn’t post. I was silenced for so long about things I should have been talking about that even things I maybe shouldn’t say sometimes I just want to say because I can. Of course there are certainly also times because of my social anxiety/selective mutism that internally I want nothing more than to share what I have been thinking, but once the focus is on me the words dissipate like the smoke from a birthday candle blown out on a windy day. The words are just gone and I can try really hard to get them back, but most people don’t know how to help me get there…the more pressure there is to talk the less likely I am to speak, yet I need someone to wait long enough before giving up that I have a chance to try…and the people who are really successful in communicating with me when I am struggling I will admit also do a lot of guess and check, and a lot of letting me just be involved in parallel play and come in and out of the conversation when I am ready rather than making it super formal but also make it very clear that conversation is expected so I don’t just go live in my own world. And sometimes people try everything and I still can’t talk and I just really appreciate being with people. People are super important to me, so just being with someone means a lot to me even if no words are exchanged. I would be thrilled to just live next to my friends. Once in a while I’m sure we’d more formally hang out, but just the nodding or waving hello and goodbye as we see each other in passing would do so much for my soul.


***And I started writing this post like a week and almost a half ago…and I think probably the reason I never posted it is because I was smart enough to realize eventually I would regret posting some of this stuff, so I have edited the rest of this post to tone it down to a more appropriately shareable post. It still probably isn’t all the way to something I should share, but it is at least a whole lot closer to being appropriate.***


At work a few weeks ago we did a few week positivity campaign…but here’s the thing, telling us to be positive is basically forcing toxic positivity on us. And a lot of that time I was feeling a lot less than positive. I’m sure positivity is great…when used at the right time in the right way…but you can’t force positivity and resilience down people’s throats and expect it to be a good thing.


There are a lot of things about my job that I am really frustrated with aside from the residency issue.


Our survey results came back. The managers’ perspective is that it is great that every category improved and overall satisfaction increased 13% which is highly significant. From my perspective, only 55% of us responded. That is highly concerning because after the last survey people were frustrated because the results were never addressed so most likely the most upset people didn’t bother using their time to fill out a survey they felt no one was going to acknowledge.


One of our lowest scores: engagement. We ALL were trained to do everything eventually…but they keep scheduling us as if we still had two separate teams. The schedule says that there are four clinical practice guidelines positions…if you ask anyone, they will tell you there are three and attribute the other position to an order entry position. That makes me angry. If I am somehow not good enough to do all the things then why is it okay for me to do the things with some patients but not others? Do those patients not matter as much? If so, that is even more infuriating. I am so frustrated. I totally understand asking if there are areas certain people don’t want to work and honoring those requests as long as there are enough people who don’t care, but I am frustrated with how things are.


And we have people who use safety reports to try to tear people down. And it is frustrating on both sides. I don’t like my coworkers being torn down. I don’t think it is an effective way to solve disagreements, and it isn’t the intended purpose of safety reports. I am not going to say I have never done it before. I have done it one time as well when I was just way too upset to express myself more appropriately and safety reported a coworker for dispensing 144 packets of ointment instead of one at a time…and really I don’t fault people for the once in a while doing that. My problem is the people who do it constantly.


…And…we’re just going to skip the next entire page because I can’t figure outhow to make that more appropriate…


But really I don’t hate my job most of the time. Most of the time I really am able to pretend to be content and just do it, but when there are other issues like the residency thing, my ability to have any margin to be able to cope with things kinda disappears.


I am so frustrated with the residency process. I agree with the majority of articles that the match doesn’t work, and very much disagree with the small minority of articles praising the efficacy of the match. I also think it is ridiculous that each application has a fee associated with it. My opinion is that there should be one flat fee for applying, and that fee should either be refunded or used as prepayment on membership dues if a position is not obtained. Not only do I think that would be much more fair for the students (and non-students like me in the process), but it would also give ASHP (and the corresponding organizations for the other professions using centralized application systems with the national matching service) a much needed incentive to reform the system if they weren’t allowed to just keep all the fees paid in. It would also mean that programs that participate but intentionally do not rank anyone in order to hand pick later would not end up causing unsuspecting candidates to be penalized financially for falling for the trap.


I am frustrated that the further out I get from school the lower the ratio interviews to applications. I am frustrated that no one is willing to give me a chance. I am frustrated that I am stuck here.


I feel really disrespected that one particular program told me in phase I that I was on their waiting list if that was okay with me, but would not get an interview in phase I unless someone else was unable to accept the interview offer. They didn’t match and I re-applied in phase II…and didn’t get an interview. Not only that, but they didn’t even give me the dignity of a you’re wait-listed again or you are no longer being considered. That made me angry. It made me feel like the whole waitlist thing was pretty much a lie so they didn’t have to actually say no since they weren’t even interested in acknowledging me in phase II, much less taking me from waitlist to actual interview. I also wish the rule was removed that made it okay in phase II (and the scramble) for programs to just ignore applicants they are not interested in. Even the mass email form letter saying sorry you’re still a loser is better than nothing. We are real people, not just little numbers that didn’t quite line up.


Part of me really really really wants to be hopeful and believe this time I might finally get a residency…but there is the other part of me realizing that the more excited I get about a residency the more it will hurt when the answer is no again. I want to be excited and start making plans…and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t already started working on travel plans for licensure in another state…and started thinking about what is important to me in where I live and how I am going to move and…well….I haven’t been guarding my heart very well. I tried to balance that out by thinking about maybe doing like respite care this summer if I don’t match…but if we’re being real, I am very aware that if I don’t match I am probably not going to be emotionally available enough to really give a child the attention they need to thrive…Failing to match is so real in my world. It is kind of the norm and I don’t know where I am going if I don’t match, because I am so frustrated with still being here but don’t really have much in the way of options to go anywhere else.


Sometimes I am excited for the possibilities…but then minutes later I am just trying to hold my world together as the reality of potentially failing again comes crashing back into my world. Sometimes the mask rips off and I am crying…and other times I am doing just fine…


…but also, I’m still staying up late to make sure I give myself every chance possible of falling asleep without crying…and I’m still playing way too much of games like Vegas Nights and Bejeweled Blitz that let me keep my mind distracted enough to feel at least numb…and sometimes I totally will take numb. It is better than feeling bad. It might not feel good, but it is still better than feeling bad.

When tomorrow holds no promises today; Where are you now?

(Still Here – Superchick; Look up Child – Lauren Daigle)


I saw this on quora a couple days ago:

I’m sorry that I’m going to upset a lot of people when I have my parents come down to the school and demand to know why I was allowed to be bullied.


I’m sorry that my parents are inconvenienced in having to rectify this situation that was not of my making.


What I am not sorry for is standing up for myself. No person should ever be victimized. I’m in school to learn skills to survive in the adult world, not survival skills to get me through school.


If this letter offends you, I’m sorry you feel that way.


I will not be victimized. I will stand up against a bully. And I’m sorry if the concept eludes you.

I wrote a lot about this, but then I deleted it because it was starting to get not very respectful. So I guess, suffice it to say, that this came from a suggested letter from a child’s perspective, but I was thinking about how it is similar to what I should have said a few years ago when the abuse came to light. I was terrified at the time of getting anyone in trouble. I didn’t want to hurt my abuser despite how deeply she hurt me, but looking back with more perspective I can see how my protection of her likely ultimately allowed her to hurt more people. I was afraid if I got her in trouble she would take it on out on other people like she’d done to me so I felt like I needed to keep her happy…so I guess really it was a refusal to trust. These people in authority had failed to save me before so I couldn’t believe they would save me or the other students in the future…so by the time I was willing to say anything, it was too late. And she had kids, and I was also terrified she would take it out on them. Somehow it feels worse to imagine innocent children being hurt than other college students. But at the same time I wish I had stood up to her. Abuse is not okay. I came to counseling to learn skills, but the skills I wanted to learn were not how to navigate abuse, but social skills and stuff like that…


Totally on another conversation, I feel like I am living in an in between right now. I failed to match and then it was a rush to choose programs and get applications in for phase II…and then everything was written on Monday and I had to wait for Tuesday to enter it all. And then wait for a couple things before I could submit just hours before the due time on Wednesday. And then wait for interview requests.


I’m not as deep in the grief as I was a week ago, but I am definitely not doing well. I guess I have learned a lot of resilience…but I don’t want to keep learning resilience. I want someone to finally be willing to give me a chance. I tried yesterday for the first time to eat breakfast. Most of it spilled all over the microwave, but I ate a little bit…and now there is a nasty half-eaten bowl of what was left of the oatmeal sitting in the sink stuck to a dirty wash cloth. Today I couldn’t get myself to eat breakfast before I left for work, but I actually had my breakfast at a breakfast-ish time since I did manage to eat it by like 9:00. And Thursday I stopped losing weight and only ever lost 5 lbs, so I was never worried about that. I’m still working on getting enough fluids in my body, but that never really got super bad, and it is getting a lot better. And that leaves sleep. I’m still alternating between staying up late and sleeping reasonably well vs going to bed on time but not really actually getting sleep…which means I am still exhausted all day every day, so let’s just say a prayer of thanks for 2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner saving me some time and effort in the morning.


I have three places interested in interviewing me. Not necessarily the ones I expected to be interested in me, and maybe not even the ones I would be most thrilled to be selected for, but really at this point I will go anywhere in the continental United States that is hospital based.


The interviews are in the next few days. I should be super stressed out for them…and part of me is stressed out…but a lot more of me is still living under the weight of the grief just trying to survive, and in surviving there isn’t really mental space or energy to be stressed out…which would be good if there also weren’t really mental energy to prepare. The fact that I could get a phone call tomorrow that I am not ready for should scare me, but it kinda just doesn’t. It is like there are two eustress distress curves and one of them I am too far to the left and the other I am too far to the right and so when taken together my combination of no stress and too much stress instead of averaging out at eustress average out to a zero…


I think after three years of constant failure trying to get what I feel like I need, I’m just exhausted and fed up with the whole process. And it is hard to believe there is anything good coming when the only thing that has come of all my time, effort, and money in the past three years is failure and heartbreak.


If I don’t match, I don’t know where to go from here. If I do match, I feel like I will be going into it already terrified about going through the process all over again and failing again in another year.


I know I’m not supposed to say stuff like this, but it really and truly feels like God forgot to write my ending…like he got distracted and kinda just left my book hanging and maybe there really isn’t anything more out there for me but to keep repeating the last chapter hoping God will remember he’s gotta finish it somehow.


How long do I have to stay stuck here? Living through another day and another day s*cks. We are constantly about 6 weeks ahead on schedules at work though, so really God just taking me away at a good time isn’t so much of a possibility anymore, because there would always be about a 6 week hole without me. It would be awesome for me, but I can’t make my coworkers have to fill in for me for that long.


I feel hopeless. I feel alone. I feel helpless. I feel frustrated.


I don’t understand why no one ever wants me. I can’t understand why everyone tells me how great I am just to turn around and decide they don’t want me either? I don’t know how to get someone to give me a chance. I know the people who make the effort to get to know me think I am a lot more awesome than I even think I am, but how can I get anyone to care enough to get to know me and give me a chance? I just want someone to at least pretend to like me. I’m tired of everyone acting like I’m awesome until it is time to actually pick somebody.


I feel like I am being a Negative Nancy…and I’m sorry about that. It is where I am right now, but that doesn’t mean I have to express everything I am thinking…


So…positives…for the first time ever, I asked for feedback and actually got constructive feedback!! And I was so thrilled because not only did someone care enough to give me feedback, but it was super detailed and clearly thought out. As disappointed as I was to not get the position that person represented, I do appreciate actually getting feedback. It hurt reading the email and being reminded of what I had lost just a few days before, but not being blown off or ignored meant so much to me.


So yeah. I don’t even know what I think right now except that my soul hurts. I feel forgotten and alone. I feel like there is no way out. Yet I see the rope dangling…but I’m afraid it is really a noose waiting to cause harm rather than something to pull me out.


I don’t even really know how to prepare for interviews…people always talk about preparing, but if you don’t give me the exact words you are going to say, how am I supposed to figure out in advance what I am going to say? It feels like just one more place where everyone else has the script while I am over in the corner trying to wing it by imitating a movie I’ve never seen while everyone else has a script to read off of and maybe even memorize.


Music really is how I process and cope with my world…now the lyric I am thinking about is “I’m sick of feeling like a failure; is this the price for good behavior?…Don’t do this, don’t do that, you will be oh so perfect, perfect, perfect.” (Plumb – Good Behavior). I feel like there must be some list of rules or directions somewhere that would make it easy if I just knew what they were so I could follow them but instead I have to try to figure it out by constantly finding out what doesn’t work. It is a tiresome process, and I am so frustrated with it. I want so badly to just be done.


I am still in and out of whether I even want to be a pharmacist anymore. That is big, because it is all I ever wanted to do, but it just feels like pharmacy just continued to frustrate me. I feel like if I can’t climb the barricade to get to what I want in pharmacy maybe I could be happier doing something different…but I am not a quitter. And that is the problem…even if I found something thrilling outside of pharmacy, I don’t think I would even ever feel totally satisfied because I would know that I’d given up before, and so yeah, I feel stuck in the not being willing to let my dream die, but also knowing that my dream is basically on life support in a coma that is incompatible with life and it isn’t helping anyone to keep it hooked up to machines to make it seem life-like.


So yeah, I don’t know where I am or where I am going or how to get there or anything. I just know I feel frustrated. I don’t feel like how my life has gone is compatible with a God who both has power and cares about me. I feel like I need to believe that God cares, but what good is a God who refuses to do anything when I’m trying to scream for help? A God with no power is useless. I want to believe God has power and I want to believe he cares but it seems like my reality shows that those two things can’t both be simultaneously true. And I don’t know where to go with that. I just want to scream I’m here, please help, please don’t abandon me…but it feels like God doesn‘t even listen anyway.

A Little More Broken and a Little More Healed…Tears on a face upturned. There’s no taking the war out of the warrior or the pain from what was learned…A smile whispers thanks

(A Little More – Stephanie Pauline)

First things first, I’m sorry for what I wrote on Monday. It was true, but it was blunt and kinda rude, and I probably shouldn’t have posted it…but I believe in owning my mistakes but I’ve never been a sweeping things under the rug girl, so I’m not going to delete it, just apologize and hope we can move on.

So yeah, me and God are struggling. Sometimes I can see little good things like before I even knew about the results I picked up a Saturday shift so I had an extra day of busy to help me get through the pain, and in exchange I was able to get Tuesday off, and while I didn’t really get a whole lot done, I was doing well enough that a day without structure and busy-ness didn’t leave me crying all day. It was probably good for me to have a day off and to be able to see that I was going to be okay even without running from activity to activity. Staying excessively busy is a really helpful coping strategy for me, but it isn’t sustainable…and eventually the thoughts and feelings need to be processed.

I’m not really ready to let myself really feel it yet. I’m still in the avoidance stage. Games and videos and anything else that’ll keep my mind engaged in something else is still an important part of my ability to get through the blank spaces in the day. When I have to talk about it I still have to really work at it to not cry, and in a few minutes or if the right words are said, the tears might start.

…but I’ve had time to reflect on things I’ve learned in the process. At one of my interviews where they use Epic, I learned about a report I didn’t know about that made working at my critical access site so much easier than usual! At another interview the RPD talked to us about the possibility of not matching and I really appreciated that because it isn’t really ever talked about until it happens at which point a conversation is really too late, so it really showed to me that she cared about everyone in the profession even if she doesn’t select them for her position. That got me to thinking about how I approach it. At first I just didn’t discuss residency and found ways to avoid mentioning it. Eventually I got the question where did you do residency and there wasn’t an out to not talk about not having a residency. I left it at I didn’t do one and moved on. At school it sounded like a given. Just like you go to elementary school then middle school then high school then college, you go to pharmacy school then unless you want to do retail or PBM work, you do PGY-1 and then from there you can decide whether to do PGY-2 or career. There was never a discussion that you might not match and end up looking for a career directly out of school, and phase II was never really discussed as anything more than an emergency back up plan that no one really needed to worry about. And even on the internet there is basically no information at all on the Scramble and what the h**k you are supposed to do there. I still agree with the article I read from an economist like a year or so ago about how the match is a very outdated and broken process, and I don’t have all the answers for students, but I think maybe I should be more honest and open with students. It is hard though, because while I have a job that would thrill a lot of people, it is not the job for me and I am not happy with it, so I can’t honestly say hey look I’m loving it. I want to express the possibility and I want to express that there are options when residency doesn’t work out, but I don’t want to lie and make it sound like everything is daisies and sunshine. It isn’t. I would be thrilled to be not alive. I pray every night for God to take me home.

But you know, while this is an exceptionally frustrating and expensive process and everything, I can certainly say that if anyone ever picks me it will be a lot more meaningful than even getting my first choice the first time around.

So yeah, I’d pick not alive if given the option, but I’m still here so I need to put on my big girl panties and keep moving on…which ones are my big girl panties though? Probably not the pair I wore last week that has “Believe in Unicorns” screen printed on the front…I don’t know who came up with the idea to screen print tighty-whities and how they decided that is what they were going to print, but I kind of question the wisdom of that decision…but they were on sale when I needed a bag to replace the ones that Fruit of the Loom discontinued so I mean, I’m the idiot who buys screen printed underwear.

And I think I am going to try going to bed now. I am not 100% about to crash within minutes of closing my eyes, but intentionally staying up super late in hopes of avoiding falling apart isn’t a sustainable solution so it is probs worth at least trying staying up a little less late now that it has been a few days…hopefully it goes well and on a totally unrelated note, hopefully tomorrow I’ll get more than the half cup of water in that I got today, but to be fair I did get some hot chocolate in at lunch time, so we can add maybe another 6-8 ounces to the total today…and I’m not really that dizzy so there’s that.

All that’s left is this tired and worn disguise that never did fool anyone with eyes…they say you’re near the broken hearted so come be near to me

(Real Men – Stephanie Pauline and Joe Uveges)

I don’t even know what to write. I just know I felt like I needed to write something.
I don’t understand why life has to hurt so much.
Why does God make all this stuff happen?
Why doesn’t God care enough to listen to my prayers?
It’s not fair. It hurts.
I didn’t match. Again. And I don’t know what to do.
I don’t want to be a quitter, but I am just so frustrated with pretty much just pharmacy in general at this point. I feel disillusioned. At one of the interviews they couldn’t come up with anything negative to say about me…but they still didn’t pick me. If I’d had enough energy to do so on Friday, I was seriously considering working through my network to see if anyone had any leads on a social work or counseling program that would accept me without a bachelors degree…
On Saturday when I absolutely needed to buy flour and couldn’t put it off any longer I went to Target. It took like a million forevers because I was moving slow because I just had like zero energy, but that isn’t the point. The point is, on the way home, a car ran a stop sign and almost ran into me. Just in time I noticed, and unfortunately, I have a survival instinct so I got out of the way. I turned and glanced at the driver because somehow instinctually that was the right thing to do, but I then immediately turned and continued walking home…I was angry that God teased me like that. I decided maybe the reason God wouldn’t take me home to make the pain stop was that then someone would have to clean up my messy apartment, so I worked on washing my dishes, putting things away, throwing things away, getting all laundry to the basket, folding the blanket on the couch, etc…but it didn’t work. I’m still here.
I have a list of 20 programs to apply to. It’s too many…but I don’t know how to fix it…and I still have no idea how this whole interview thing is going to work as a pharmacist. I got tomorrow off to apply though. It’s a bummer since I love working at my critical access site…but yeah, that will probably be good for me. I could have had Saturday off, but really, I needed to be at work. Staying busy and keeping my mind engaged in something easy is so helpful…yep, I’m an escape artist. That’s why I’ve been playing Bejeweled Blitz and Vegas Nights on repeat…
But in a lot of ways I am doing better than two years ago at this time. I haven’t eaten breakfast, but I’ve been able to eat enough lunch, dinner, and snacks to make up for it. I’m staying up late, but once I go to bed I am actually getting some sleep…getting up sucks, but that I can deal with. I’m not doing the greatest with drinking, but I am not as dizzy today as I was the past few days, and I am definitely getting in at least a cup or two every day. It is frustrating though, because being in motion used to really help…but it seems like now it isn’t really doing anything. I know it is good for my body whether it feels like it helping or not so I’m still trying to stay at least a little active, but it is hard not really having anything to alleviate the pain.
So yeah, I’m probably going to spend another $1000 applying tomorrow…
…and I am overwhelmed because y’all know the phone is my worst enemy and one of my coworkers is convinced that picking up the phone and calling each place I am planning to apply is the way I am going to get a position…I am scared because I hate the phone and also because I am afraid that my lack of skill using the phone will end up keeping me from being given a chance rather than help…and I have 20 places on my list. I am someone who will do whatever it takes to avoid a phone call even if it takes many extra hours…and I put off calls for as long as possible because I hate it…how in the world am I supposed to actually ever make one phone call, much less 20 of them…
I just want God to take me home.
And on Friday when I looked at facebook which I knew was a bad idea, not only was it covered by everyone’s placement for next year, but the first one on the feed was one of my friends who I (informally) mentored…and she got the position I wanted two years ago…and this year. I am angry at myself because instead of being thrilled for her, I was angry that they didn’t even give me a chance this year but gave the position to someone else. She isn’t a bad student, and I don’t want this to sound conceited or anything, but I was a lot better student than her…what basically everyone in the world has on me, though, is interviewing skills.
And, lol (not literally), you know you are over-sensitive when you are frustrated because you got >150,000 points in the game you were playing and your opponent only got <10,000 and you wanted to do well but you didn’t want to make anyone feel bad and that is a huge imbalance.