Soon you’ll be okay

Every now and then, just outside my window, below my balcony, a middle-aged man grabs his saxophone and plays it loudly in the park across the street from my place. He is doing so now. He is an angel, he must be. Hearing that sweet sound, those soulful notes, the way they linger in the air, is what I need. Now there’s another man, letting the lone musician know that it sounds good and that he should keep playing all night. I need that too. Strangers being kind to one another, complimenting each other, without invitation, without compensation.

Thank you, my angels.

Life is so beautiful.

I have always thought it so. I have always gazed at the world around me with awe. It still impresses me, even after nearly thirty-three years. I took two of my pets to work with me today, and kept going over to them because animals never fail me. They amaze me every day. Gosh, they are just so cute and how lucky am I to be able to bond with them? Isn’t it astounding? How is that angel making such beautiful music? How is the sun still shining mightily when it is nearly 8 pm? Can I truly be blessed with such friends and family? Why do people consistently come to my aid when I am in need? Why are they so unexpectedly nice to me? Strangers, too!

It is all so beautiful. It overwhelms me, yet I cannot get enough of it.

Which is why I struggle to understand why anyone would take his or her own life.

This week was rough. We lost a good one, humans and animals. We lost a beautiful soul, the sweetest of spirits, one who certainly did not deserve to hurt, not the way she must have in the end, not ever. Now, I hurt for her. I hurt and hurt and hurt.

Death is shitty. It is terminal, it is permanent, and it is devastating. I am atheist, I do not believe in an afterlife, I do not think that she has found freedom nor that she is finally “living” happily somewhere. She is dead. The one life she had is now over, her one shot at happiness has come to an end, and my heart is crushed fearing that she never experienced it. Maybe she had moments of it scattered throughout her lifetime, right? Maybe I should take comfort in that. Because this bullshit that I might see her again is just that. Bullshit.

What the fuck, life? As beautiful as you are, what is this?

 

 

 

 

Last week, I finished watching 13 Reasons Why on Netflix. I was captivated, episode after episode, scene after scene. I could never say that I enjoyed it necessarily, but I do not regret watching it. There are certain stories that need to be told, truths revealed, issues to be faced. I was moved.

Shortly after watching the series, I noticed a series of tumblr posts by a friend I admire and adore. They were morbid. They invited and welcomed death. Some were self-deprecating. Worry for this friend came over me.

Then, Chris Cornell took his own life. But why? Really? Why? No, it’s too tragic.

Then, my friend. Then, a colleague and former client.

May 2017, you suck.

 

 

 

 

I need a break. I need a break from social media. I uninstalled Instagram and Snapchat from my phone. I deactivated my Facebook, but did so rather hastily. I have since logged back in to gather information on groups that I am a member of before I peace out again. All my protests, gatherings, meetings are listed on Facebook. How will I learn about them now? I could also take a break from my activism as well. I simply stay too busy.

This, too, is a result of not believing in an afterlife. I feel it so necessary to cram as much as I can into the only life I will ever have. I need to see everyone, spend time with those I love as frequently as possible, I must hurry and save the world. The world only gets me for a limited amount of time, I cannot let it down. I have to do it all! All of it! Now or possibly never. Nothing is guaranteed, have we not all learned that lesson?

Fuck it, though, I am going to take a break. It’s decided.

I have already started to, actually. I never got too far with learning videography and film editing because someone with actual experience stepped up to volunteer. That freed me up. Most of my activism as of lately revolves around making phone calls to my congressman’s office every Monday, which is a rather easy task. That is pretty much it. I will get a break from that with Memorial Day coming up. Those phone calls can make me angry, I admit and you can probably imagine. Break from those? Yup!

Break from everything but love and light.

 

 

 

 

 

I am hoping to soon figure out what my next move will be. Where do I want to focus, how do I want to honor Beautiful? What will heal the world, and dammit Daisy, sometimes you need healing too! Be selfish and look out for yourself too, lady. You have to come back strong like the bad bitch you were destined to be.

Thank you, you who stand by me and support me and come to my rescue. I love you all. You especially. You did not have to do that. Not any of it. But you did. You are good to me. You are good.

Everyone else, I love you, too. If you are reading this, I love you. You are welcome to my home, to my sofa, to my hugs, to my friendship. I will lend you my ear, my advice, my care. If it is parental advice you seek, I cannot help you, but you can borrow my parents. Many do. I do not mind sharing. You can also come over and let my critters love on you. They are the friendliest little loves. They will make you smile, I promise.

It is not for me to understand why you self-harm or consider suicide an option. You do not owe it to me to help me understand. What I owe you is assuring you that you do not need to be ashamed. Your way of coping differs from mine, and that’s that. It is okay to talk about it, to seek help. Your battle is unique, but you do not have to go through it alone. I know that you can’t just get over it or forget about it and move on. Anyone who expects that of you is clueless.

I love you, okay? Take care and be kind.

Especially to yourself. ❤

Timing. Changes.

Holy crap.

I may have actually done it. I may have succeeded. I may get precisely what I wanted.

Earlier this year, in the spring, I mentioned wanting to leave the Oncology department that I am currently a member of in order to work in Internal Medicine/Cardiology. That hope has remained present and as luck would have it, last month, I was given the opportunity to work with CardioDoc once more. Wait, no. The opportunity was not simply given to me. I went after it, talked to the right people, was scheduled as I wanted, did get to spend the week in Cardiology, …

… and I crushed it. Even though we were double-booked one day. Even though there were too many doctors working and not enough exam rooms, procedure spaces, nor technical help available. Even though this is not the field I am familiar with nor trained in.

Crushed it.

CardioDoc praised me in the presence of Bossman (the hospital manager) at the end of our week working together and I took it upon myself to tell them both that I would love to work Cardiology permanently.

Let’s make it happen.

Those were CardioDoc’s words to Bossman. I may have pumped my fist afterwards. I am doing so now.

Fast-forward an entire month and Bossman finally told me yesterday that he is thinking about moving me out of Oncology so that I can work in Cardiology for good. Oh, do not tease me so! Please, please make it happen! He said that he needs to speak to the doctors first to make sure they are all on board and agree with this decision. Dude, you already know that CardioDoc agrees, he said it himself. Come on, now.

Ugh. I am trying not to do any preemptive celebrating because this is not set in stone. Also, even if Bossman truly has every intention of making this move, who knows how soon it will take place. There are so many changes happening for our hospital presently – new doctors have started, schedule changes have been made, new software will be installed, construction on a different floor – that Bossman has his plate quite full. My move is not a priority, understandably so. Thankfully, somewhere along the line, I picked patience up as one of my virtues. I will be needing it like none other!

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It feels as though life is entering a transitional phase. The timing seems appropriate, though, given that I have started a new year. I admit, having my birthday come up when it did was something that I initially lamented as I noticed its approach. Now, in retrospect, it was fitting and ideal.

It just felt a bit improper to be in a celebratory mood given that I had just put an end to my relationship. Would he wish me a happy birthday? I did not expect him to feast with me. Would he get me something? It would be the first time in six years for him not to do these things. How awkward. Could I celebrate without him? I was not so sure that I wanted to. What would I be doing for my birthday? I am not the type to plan something for myself. That is just weird.

Welp, Hoolie ended up planning a small gathering just a few nights before my actual birthday. It was lovely, it was joyful, it was needed. She invited friends that we share, friends that she has introduced to me, friends that we have made together, and, of course, the friend who introduced us to one another, Che. We had drinks, shared stories, laughed, danced, played Giant Jenga, played skeeball, and I even got to open several gifts. Just lovely!

We were out all night, but before the the party was over, we took a group photo and in looking at it, I realized that those beautiful people had not known me for very long at all. The longest relationship I have with any of them is with Che, whom I met in late 2014 when I interviewed for my current job. That’s it. Less than two years! Yet, there they all were, on a Thursday night, celebrating, showering me with presents, enjoying life with me. I felt so darn special. I also can’t help but feel proud that even at my age – I turned 32! – I am still creating and cementing new friendships and relationships.

Aaahh, it’s such sweet success.

The following night, my beautiful friend Slow J took me out for a one-on-one dinner date. I can tell that girl anything and everything, no judgement passed, no disapproval, just unwavering support and well wishes. I was able to divulge the details of my breakup to her; she already knew of my relationship’s recent woes, naturally, since she is one of my dearest friends. She is excited about my newfound “freedom”, she told me that she predicts that marvelous things will happen to me, and she assured me that I will undoubtedly work wonders with my time. She is such a sweetheart. I love her. It was nice to spend that time with her.

My birthday finally arrived a couple days later.

The fella did end up wishing me a happy birthday. He even gave me a card and a gift. Believe me when I say that he is truly a great human being. Would you be shocked if the person you just broke up with did these things for you? I was not. That is who he is.  I wish I did not have to end it. I wish it could have worked out. Such a bummer.

This is part of the undergoing transition, from being someone’s significant other to being single. From being in a partnership to being out on my own. Me: single. For the first time in nearly seven years. It’s almost surreal. Scary, even?

Again, the timing of my birthday ended up being perfect. I received so many loving messages – from friends, my parents, my cousins, aunts, uncles, former coworkers, current coworkers, former classmates, online friends, district Democrat friends, activism buddies, former clients. People thanking me for being Daisy, expressing gratitude for having met me, praising me for what I do with my life, conveying admiration for me. Geeze. Way to boost a girl’s spirit when personal matters are getting a tad bit tricky! To top it all off, I had a family birthday lunch gathering at my Grandma’s house complete with a little vegan cake, singing, and birthday candles. Damn.

I am so loved. And I know it. I treasure every single bit of love that is bestowed upon me. I have to. It’s invaluable!

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It is difficult to say what the coming weeks and months have in store for me. My gut is telling me that there will be an interesting mix of positive and negative. It is also telling me that it will not be more than I can handle and that I will remain happy through it all. I tell myself that timing is everything. Che tells me that the only constant in life is change.

Maybe we are all correct?

There is only one way to find out… 

On the road again.

There is this calm feeling of relief that has resulted from having honest and open conversations with people I fully trust. The usual suspects – family, mentors, and old friends. Newcomers as well, oddly enough. How can I be so trusting? No, the true question is – How can people so worthy still exist and, even more puzzling, how do I keep finding them? This month, I have spilled so much, overshared, exposed myself, and it has all been quite cathartic, like starting fresh. What perfect timing, too.

There is no denying that January through March of every year is my period of inactivity, my season of uninspiredness (is that a word?). Actually, March is always promising. March is when the awakening tends to begin, when my rational mind begins to prep itself for all that my imagination allows itself to concoct. This is why clearing it through spoken word has been so relevant!

The process of re-discovering myself is going swimmingly, I am happy to say. No, wait… I am happy. Period. I have reflected and been reminded of all that is positive, all that makes me feel alive, all that makes me feel that, yes, my life is purposeful. This has induced happiness.

I am reverting to my old ways, something that may seem like a backward step, but no, it’s not. I can remember my happiest year very well, and all that made it so. It was 2009. I was twenty-four. This is what made me:

  • Family. I lived with my Mom on a street that my Grandma and two other aunts also live on. I saw my little cousins nearly daily. I ran around outside with them, would take them to the park at the end of the street, sometimes even go on bike rides (this was before the Santa Fe Trail was completed. Ugh. Life would have been so much easier for us if it had already existed then). At any given time, I could step out the front door, take a few steps and be with my favorite people. It was incredible.
  • Health. In 2008, I became a pescetarian. A few months into that venture, I went full vegetarian. My body thanked me, and when 2009 rolled around, I was the healthiest I had ever been in my life. What a way to start a year. With my new found energy, I started running and started cycling. I got out more…
  • Getting out. Geeze, I spent so much time outdoors. Even if it meant simply sitting on the amazing porch at my Mom’s place. I have already mentioned taking the kiddos to the park, running, and cycling. I was outside ALL THE TIME. I took in doses of fresh (“fresh”… I do live in the city) air and sunshine constantly. Such awesomeness.
  • Making a difference. I was still working at the SPCA of Texas at the beginning of the year. When I left that job to do an internship at a veterinary hospital, I got a part-time job at The Humane Society. My heart belongs to animals, and shelter animals are some of my favorite. My being felt so fulfilled from loving on those critters every day. I almost felt heroic.
  • Falling in love. For the first time in my life, I fell in love. I fell fast and hard and so did he. We did not hold back. It was such an astouding rush, completely unlike what I had expected. Better! Who knew I had it in me to love like that? How could I ever guess that this cute guy I met on Facebook could make me feel like the most important person on the planet? Damn.
  • Cementing friendships. This is when I started forming lasting friendships. Not the type that were fleeting because oh, we aren’t in the same classes this semester, we don’t work together anymore, you have a boyfriend now, you moved to the other side of DFW, etc. At this point, I started going out of my way to maintain my friendships, to stay in touch and decidedly make an effort to spend time with my pals. All worth it. Those people are still my ride-or-dies, as they say.
  • Achievement. I got another degree and became an RVT, yo! Go me!

Obviously, I cannot repeat many of these things. I will not be moving back in with my Mom, I will not go back to working at an animal shelter, I cannot go vegetarian again. I can mimic some of those moves, though. Spend more time at my Mom’s, start volunteering at the shelter again, clean up my diet. I can continue to build strong friendships, I can continue being active, I can fall in love all over again, I can take some sort of class somewhere, I guess, and continue educating myself. Why not?

Yikes, I’m sleepy. This is not my cleanest of posts. This has been a bit of a free-write entry, but it may be just what I needed. I have been getting so much of “just what I needed” as of lately, sometimes it seems unbelievable. I am so excited for next month, for how much further I will get on this road to wherever it is I am going.

It is good to be me.