Last Wednesday evening I suddenly began to feel "off" in a sense of feeling bloated, gassy, and just overall tired/weak.
I took a shower with the intent of heading to bed early in hopes of it
taking care of itself overnight as I slept. But, as I took an
after-shower soak in the lavender bubbles, the feeling of being "off"
quickly turned to "bad" and nausea soon swept over me; I spent from
about 8pm to 12am making trips between being propped up in my bed to the
bathroom, all for my skin to sweat chilled bullets, my hands to shake,
and dry heaves to make me cough and gag. It wasn't the only stomach
issue, but against my better knowledge and all warning labels, I took
some Peto Bismol, hoping that my body would be strong enough to fight
against the virus if only I could get some uninterrupted sleep.
And I slept. On the couch.
took Juna outside for most of the day, until about 7pm when someone
else took her out. And each time I returned from the task, I had to take
a nap. I napped after using the bathroom, after making myself
broth/soup and crackers, after watching TV. Sometimes even after
The Beau came over that afternoon, even
though he had just taken an awfully difficult exam and had a bunch of
other homework to do. He came to keep me company and to spend time with
me, even if I spent most of it myself sleeping.
next day (Friday morning), he left early in the morning and then I
stayed home once more from work because I was still too exhausted to do
much--although I forced myself to do things I knew needed to be
done--and too nauseous to eat much.
afternoon, I drove the exhausting hour to the Beau's house where we
napped, got dinner (steamed veggies and plain rice for me--something I
struggled to eat), and watched an episode of Gotham before going to
sleep. Where I didn't sleep well.
In the morning we
woke up, got a quick breakfast and took off to pick up the rental car
before heading off for the 3-hour drive to Georgia for his cousin's
wedding--which was a perfect, memorable night in and of itself.
His family was nice, welcoming, and good company. And although they were just as nice and welcoming, the Michigan family I met a few months ago didn't quite give off the same vibe as the ones in Georgia. But perhaps that can be chalked up to merely the Southern Hospitality.
just the two of us until we met up with some more of his family at the
hotel, and then when we got back later that night (just before midnight)
and went straight to bed where I--again--couldn't sleep.
drove the 3 hours back home the next morning after meeting his family
in the hotel lobby for breakfast and then (after seeing them off)
returning to our room to pack our things and leave.
I drove the extra hour home-home afterward, where I played fetch with
Juna, forced myself to eat something, and then took Juna to the enclosed
tennis courts at the local elementary school to run out some of her
And then, after a quickly wonderful weekend, life returned to normal.
The past week or so have been difficult to get through--I'm not sure if I should credit hormones or just the overall situation. I'm exhausted, at a crossroads, dealing with having to make a decision/plan out the best route for my short-term life to take, and just struggling to stay positive.
Not to mention every day this week has been some sort of stressful and/or emotionally draining.
One thing I never expected was to have vivid dreams of you while beside the other that has taken your place.
Sometimes I still find myself thinking of--longing for, even--you in the moments of quiet reflection, but never did I imagine myself to dream of you. I've always thought of sleep as a place of solitude and peace; when the dreams initially stopped, I figured it was a sign you had finally vacated the deeper layers of my heart, that although my daytime thoughts of you were still occasionally present, my heart didn't truly hold you anymore.
But, as for a multitude of many other things, apparently I was wrong.
Somewhere, buried within the vents and chambers of my heart, a small part of your life continues on with each beat of my own.
Since coming back from Grand Rapids, I've felt much less myself than I ever remember feeling.
It's been just over 9 months since I graduated from undergrad--what was supposed to be merely the beginning of my higher education--and now I'm beginning to fear it's the dead end I never expected. In fact, the more I've thought about it, the more I realize life is just a series of dead ends: things going wrong, plans falling through, efforts not being enough, dreams not being achieved, life getting in the way of living.
As the days turn into weeks and weeks into months, dead ends have been falling like dominoes. I'm doing things I never thought I'd act upon and words I never expected to speak flow out of my mouth as effortlessly as water over a fall. Some things are for the better--like my looming final decision to apply to graduate school, my effort to work and help get some sort of financial security for my future--and others...others not so much. I'm crossing boundaries with myself I always told myself I'd be careful and smart enough not to cross, like a wild stranger has been slowly inching me out of my own skin to take my place inside my core.
The old me would worry, would question and argue. The old me would fight.
But this person inside me has barely even noticed, and what has been has passed by without so much as a second thought.
I haven't the energy to care.
I look in the mirror and see many things: the bumps and lingering scars that dot and splotch their way across my face, dry lips, and dark periorbital puffiness. But mostly I just notice what's missing--the skin clarity, the even tone, the sparkle in my eye.
I average about 5 hours of sleep a night; I spend a solid 16+ hours awake per day, which I suppose is "ideal" when you consider the recommended 8 hours of sleep per night. But even with 16 waking hours in a day, I still go to bed exhausted having accomplished nothing. I'm waking up, "living", and going to bed. That is the extent of my life, and I was not meant to live life without a purpose, without a job or a true motivation.
The worst part, I think, is that I can specifically recall a majority of all the triggers and choice decisions that acted as catalysts toward my gradual descent... Rejection. Loss. Emotional struggle from school. Emotional struggle from losing pets. Liars. Psychological breakdown. Loneliness. Disguised unhappiness. Failure. Attempting to ignore building problems. Self disgust.
Looking back on them, I can see where things started to fall apart, one by one, until it reached the point currently where my entire life seems to be in shambles.
My dreams are proving to be almost impossible to even chase after--not because I don't want to, but because I'm in such a position that I can't. They won't let me.
I'm still fat after college, despite my efforts not to be.
I'm getting stupider by the day.
I'm going nowhere in life.
Everything I used to stand for and believe in is slipping away. I feel tainted, dirty, and ruined.
I'm unhappy--no, I'm miserable.
And I want to give up entirely.
I slept through the night with dreams of you, of which I haven't had in
months if not years, and woke up occasionally in bouts of shock and
disbelief, followed by the sense of regaining my calm and collectedness
when I remembered "It's just a dream".
Yesterday was not the "high school reunion" I had ever imagined.
It was a roller coaster of intense emotions: anxiety, uncertainty, nostalgia, awkwardness, sadness, and an odd sense of joy at seeing people I never really expected to see again, much less speak to or hug.
The visitation and "memorial celebration" in and of itself was surreal--no one ever expected it to be him that we'd all first initially gather to say goodbye to. And for such a young, passionate life to end so suddenly was/is a tragedy. I can't imagine what his family and friends are going through.
Seeing everyone from high school--people I forgot existed, people I knew I'd see, and some I figured would be there--given the circumstances was difficult to deal with. Should we be happy, should we be sad and refuse to smile or greet one another cheerfully? Should we even acknowledge each other, or should we feel free to embrace one another in a desperate attempt to comfort and console?
On the other hand...seeing you there, the first real person I interacted with, was perhaps the most surreal. Most of me expected to see you there--even after almost 3 years of not having spoken to you, it's reassuring to know college hasn't changed your quietly supportive nature. But even then, I wasn't sure what to say to you. Should I greet you warmly and ask how life has treated you? Should I congratulate you on your recent graduation from school? Or, since the Beau was standing right beside me grasping my hand with an unyielding sense of support and comfort, should I simply wave as I did and politely say hello?
That whole moment was a blur, really, but I distinctly remember the Beau squeezing my hand tightly for a split second when we both simultaneously spotted you standing quietly and politely off to the side. He knew. I've told him bits and pieces of the story, how I all but loved you for a year or so, and how I've since never fully ceased harboring those same feelings. They've simply gotten covered up and buried by all the memories the Beau and I have made together, by time, and by life's distractions.
But seeing you last night, alone for the first time in who knows how long, made those feelings explode immediately to the forefront of my thoughts. For several minutes after that, all I could think about was you. All I could focus on was you.
For all intents and purposes, seeing all sorts of people I spent 4 years of high school with and vaguely followed on social medial throughout our college careers felt like our parting ways never happened, but at the same time there was a sense of emptiness, as if a large chunk of time had been simply erased from our memories.
Emotions were vague and random from the moment I woke up yesterday and remembered I had a funeral to go to (in the middle of an otherwise ordinary day) to say goodbye to a high school classmate I knew changed every life he touched in a big way, to the moment I fell asleep with Juna snuggling me and the Beau just a few rooms over, asleep himself.
I have made the decision to reapply to one or two schools for the 2017 application cycle, purely for the sake of gaining more experience with the process. If anything it'll simply help me improve my application for next year.
Although I haven't been able to add much in regards to my experience, I'm hoping to get that accomplished at some point. My interview this morning was rescheduled for next week (If that doesn't give some sort of "sign" as to how it'll go, I don't know what does.), but I want to try to start seriously volunteering and whatnot over the course of the next 6 months or so.
Ideally, I'd spend the summer working on research, the fall volunteering and working, and the spring as an equine medicine intern. BUT, with working....that throws a wrench in things. Originally I was gonna try to squeeze it all in this summer/fall, then try to go back to school in the spring just for something educational to do. But that's a stupid idea.
In a little over two weeks, I'll be starting to nanny my niece and nephew. That'll keep me busy and give me a source of much-needed income.
Juna's getting stronger and healing more with each day that passes; we're only on day 5 of 10-14, but still...she's (miraculously) been just fine so far. Hopefully it all stays that way.
I've spent the morning working on my personal statement and starting another VMCAS application; mostly it's all been copied over from last year's application, but there are things I need to go through and change and/or confirm.