It's been a long two weeks, but also I guess a short two weeks. (Totally going for that Charles Dickens vibe right now). I've started my new (incredibly time consuming) job at Oakwood, which I love and gives me the experiences I want and reminds me why I want to be a nurse every day. I worked a lot this week: 35+ hours, plus school, plus working with the guy I work with in home. I didn't get much homework done, but I did try to get things turned in on time. One big regret from last weekend was letting social time get in the way of a good grade (may have ruined my chances at getting an A in that class at all, but hey, maybe this is just a sign from god for me to just not give so much of my soul to school anymore...)
I'm 22 now, and feel like I'm getting older. It's harder to concentrate. It's harder to retain information. It's harder to learn things. It's harder to have patience for slowly but surely becoming a cat lady.
All this work lately with dying/elderly people has me thinking about so many things in such a major way. First of all, I am scared of dying alone, still, after all these years, I'm pretty sure my worst fear is still dying alone. Watching people care for their loved ones while they are in the last hours/days/months/years of their lives is touching and makes me happy for them, sad for them, and oddly jealous all at the same time. Happy because there is so much love out there, so many people full of life and hope that they want to remind people how much they're loved right up until their last breaths. Remind them of their lives worth living. There is so much life and energy and humor in these people (the families...not always the patients. Patients can be rather frightening at times and also to all those who believed that dying was a graceful passage into the great beyond, spoiler alert! it's not.) Sad for them in that these types of events can tear apart families. It ends marriages. The death of a spouse seems like one of the most traumatizing experiences that one could experience...It's nice to see the strength of humanity but terribly depressing all at the same time to know that as humans we have to endure such pain. Jealousy happens only because part of me, somewhere deep down, has a strong sneaking suspicion that I will die alone blah blah blah because of all the aforementioned reasons in this blog (blah blah blah I want it so bad that it'll never happen to me, etc, etc, etc). Not to steal a line from Mr. Gibbard again, but who's going to watch you die?
Anyway, off of that depressing business. Life here has also felt antsy. Lost. In the way that I know that something isn't right but I can't pinpoint it at all. I feel like my experiences recently have ruined me for real life. I feel like this is no longer my life, but rather some bookmarked page in a book that I put down for a year and picked back up and only vaguely remember the plot and main characters mid-way through the story. I wonder if this feeling will ever alleviate itself.
I'm going to Germany in 38 days. I literally count the hours. I look at somewhat torturous tasks as just ways to make it hours closer to my deparature. Anything to get away from here again...so much stress and worrying and not enough (but somehow all at once way too much?) socializing.
My life has taken a turn for the extremely weird and incredibly disorganized.
I'm 22 now, and feel like I'm getting older. It's harder to concentrate. It's harder to retain information. It's harder to learn things. It's harder to have patience for slowly but surely becoming a cat lady.
All this work lately with dying/elderly people has me thinking about so many things in such a major way. First of all, I am scared of dying alone, still, after all these years, I'm pretty sure my worst fear is still dying alone. Watching people care for their loved ones while they are in the last hours/days/months/years of their lives is touching and makes me happy for them, sad for them, and oddly jealous all at the same time. Happy because there is so much love out there, so many people full of life and hope that they want to remind people how much they're loved right up until their last breaths. Remind them of their lives worth living. There is so much life and energy and humor in these people (the families...not always the patients. Patients can be rather frightening at times and also to all those who believed that dying was a graceful passage into the great beyond, spoiler alert! it's not.) Sad for them in that these types of events can tear apart families. It ends marriages. The death of a spouse seems like one of the most traumatizing experiences that one could experience...It's nice to see the strength of humanity but terribly depressing all at the same time to know that as humans we have to endure such pain. Jealousy happens only because part of me, somewhere deep down, has a strong sneaking suspicion that I will die alone blah blah blah because of all the aforementioned reasons in this blog (blah blah blah I want it so bad that it'll never happen to me, etc, etc, etc). Not to steal a line from Mr. Gibbard again, but who's going to watch you die?
Anyway, off of that depressing business. Life here has also felt antsy. Lost. In the way that I know that something isn't right but I can't pinpoint it at all. I feel like my experiences recently have ruined me for real life. I feel like this is no longer my life, but rather some bookmarked page in a book that I put down for a year and picked back up and only vaguely remember the plot and main characters mid-way through the story. I wonder if this feeling will ever alleviate itself.
I'm going to Germany in 38 days. I literally count the hours. I look at somewhat torturous tasks as just ways to make it hours closer to my deparature. Anything to get away from here again...so much stress and worrying and not enough (but somehow all at once way too much?) socializing.
My life has taken a turn for the extremely weird and incredibly disorganized.
No comments:
Post a Comment