I'm making progress. My parents tell me this regularly, but it only really means something to me when my therapists tell me this. I still have a very long way to go. This is becaue my therapists see this every day. My left side is buliding alot of strength (the right cerebral aneurysm has had a huge impact on the left side of my body).

I'm reading a lot lately. It's work that causes me pain, but thre is just so much I feel I need to learn about this aneurysm (especially because the clipping procedure is no guarantee that it won't burst again and cause another stroke and/or death).

My eyes are finally returning to the left when reading paragraphs. It used to take a lot of conscious effort, but now it just happens.

Yeseterday, my physical therapist said I am doing things already that I shouldn't be able to do because of the level of trauma and the relativelyshort amount of time since my surgeries.

The pain is the same as it was when I firstr woke up in th ehospital. There is a part of me that almost wishes I were still there - I"d probably b getting morphine at this point. Oxycodone and Tylenol do nothing for me. I"m in constant excruciating pain, and I wonder why I'm even bothering to stick around.

I know that I will be able to recover and rebuild if I stick to the the program, but it's difficult.

I'm glad that my left brain is doing fine (overanalysis, language, etc.). I don't know how I"d be able to handle this is I couldn't communicate or pick things apart.

I'm beginning to hate my parents. They don't seem to believe me when I tell them I'm in pain. My dad even goes so far as to tell me I am just not trying to relax and fall asleep. I am hating every second in thi shouse. I almost want to die to cause them some pain.

I tried calling a friend I haven't seen in a while earlier toay, but he must have been busy because he didn't take my all. I really needed to feel like it's okay to feel what I feel (an dbecause my parents have told me that that is just not how it's going to be - I am to feel happy and stop being a bitch all the time).

I wish someone would take me away from this crap. I don't know when I will reach my breaking point, but it will probably be soon.

My parents said I need to stop being so stubborn. This was in response to my statement that the medication isn't helping. Apparently, according to my parents, a personality trait is the cause of my pain. I, somehow, must be able to block the natural proogression of chemicals throughout my body just because I am a stubborn person.

Where does this logic originate?

I am so sick of being blamed for things not working the way they are supposed to.

"Unfortunately, healing just hurts sometimes."

A nurse at the hospital said this to me on night when I asked for my pain medication. I'm acutely aware that she simply didn't want to be bothered with counting out my pills again, but the words are, nonetheless, true.

I am at my parents' house, regularly taking my medication, but the pain never eases.

My parents are doing their best to help me, but no one knows what something is like until they go through something similar. Telling me, "Yeah, I know it hurts." does not console me. It makes me feel like they think this can be cured with kind words. That's just not true.

I just had brain surgery twice in one month! It hurts to hear, to talk, to yawn, to smile, to talk, and to think. I can't will the pain away. My dad even said that I"m hining and moaning to "gt attention." That showed me that he's nowhere near to understanding this, even though he watched his father battle to reoover after a stroke, which is quite similar to what I suffered.

I want to be normal again. I want to be able o look back on this and derive some sort of lesson from the universe.

Recovery - Day whatever

I am struggling with the intense pain of recovery. My pain medication doesn't really do anything at this point, and part of me is wondering why I bother to take it at all.

It's Easter, and I feel miserable. There is a part of me almmost wishing for my body to give out.

I don't wish to die. I know there are many ways I could kill myself, but I won't do that.

I jusst really need relief from this. It's unrelenting. It feels like I've somehow been caught in a vice.



I keep wondering what I did to deserve this, and then it hits me that no one deserves stuff like this. It just happens.
I have no idea when I will feeel like myself again. It could be a month. It could be a year. It could be never. Having absolutely no control over any of it makes me feel weak and useless.

Crying about it and feeling sorry for myself don't help, either. I need a new plan.

The aneurysm

I am just returning to the world after a close call with death.

I didn't know I had an aneurysm developing. It ruptured in March. My school called my emergency contacts (my parents) when I didn't arrive at work. I guess that is what perfect attendance will earn you - a concerned phone call). I have no recollection of the event. I don't even recall the day prior. I think I hung out with Wes, but I'm not sure. I spoke to my sister on the phone until midnight, but I only know that because she told me that while I was in the hospital.

I don't recall anything until I woke up in ICU. This, apparently, was after a couple of weeks. I had had surgery the first day and then again a week or two later. The first was to clamp the bleeding aneurysm; the second was to replace the chunk of skull bone they had ripped out to find and stop the bleeding aneurysm.

I don't recall much of the ICU. I don't remember who visited me. I spent most of the time unconscious.

I remember going in for brain scans.

I remember feeling like I could have made a mental decision to die there and escape the pain I felt even while unconscious, which didn't seem logical overall. I almost made peace with leaving my mortal coil behind. What made me want to live was when I became aware that nurses had placed restraints on me. This only brought out the fighter within. I think I decided at that moment that I would not be letting anything or anyone make my decisions for me.

I recall moving into my room on the rehabilitation floor. I was not pleased about sharing the room with a woman whose family couldn't be quiet. Therapy started soon thereafter. It was painful to move, think, and, even, to rest. My therapists were fairly understanding of my plight, but they wouldn't let me use it as an excuse to get out of any work. While I wanted to rebel, I recognized that what they were doing was actually good for me.

I had trouble keeping sequential things in order, especially my days. I can't tell what's happened first, second, third, and so on. It's really frustrating. I also don't interpret visual input well. I have left visual neglect, which outpatient therapy is going to really help with. I just started seeing faces in everything. They aren't always pleasant, human-looking faces, though, which, at night, frightens me. I feel like a stupid and scared child. I am hating almost every second of recovery, even though I know it is leading to my return to full health.

Is Germany the answer?

I slept like a rock last night. This was after sleeping soundly the night before and two naps during the day. This trend worries me a bit, to be honest. I've been needing more and more sleep lately, and there is no reason for it.

I dreamed last night that I was visiting Germany. I found I wasn't scared or worried that I would get lost, etc. I felt very comfortable there. I saw a few places I really want to see in real life. The images in my head, although in 3D, were most likely inaccurate because I've only seen video and/or photographs of those places. I was walking along streets, visiting with new (and some old) friends. This dream tells me that I really need to apply for the English position in Heidelberg I saw yesterday for next school year.

I don't want to live in a place that devalues me daily. I don't want to live in a place that is close to making me move back in with my parents. Something's got to give, and unfortunately, it won't be the government, society, etc.

I keep thinking about all the obstacles in the way when I should be seeing this as an opportunity to do something meaningful.

2/27/11 - 5:15 a.m.

If I let myself, I can make an even bigger mess than the one I created two years ago when I was going through hell. This time, though, I can't blame a severe vitamin deficiency creating a mental imbalance (and everyone thought I was just having fun...crazy looks like fun from the outside, but it truly isn't when you are the one experiencing it). Being unhappy with life and relationships didn't help matters much, either.

I suppose the mark of being stable is that I can make the choice to not F things up. I wish I would have taken better care of myself years ago. I wouldn't be in this empty, lonely, horrible place I am now. The fact that I can see the cause-and-effect relationships clearly now is good. I don't have to travel the same path twice.


I reached out today to someone today, but he wasn't able to help me. I don't know why I am surprised every time I repeat this (I should probably redefine what it means to be crazy or stupid). For some reason, I keep hoping that he will be different - that he will be able to provide with me the behaviors that will send me into that elevated place where I can say that he gets it - that he gets me - that everything works the way it is supposed to. Oh, well.


This next week and weekend are going to be busy. I return to work to go through MME testing. It's not going to be pleasant by any means. It should be okay, though. I'll manage. I have a performance with CCB on Saturday in Okemos and a performance with AACB on Sunday in Ann Arbor. I am feeling a little stressed because I also have someone's birthday to celebrate on Sunday, and an out-of-town friend will be coming back for the weekend to see family and friends. We've grown closer over the past couple of years, and I like that he really isn't the same as he was in high school. He has asked that we hang out, which is cool with me. I am determined to find a way to fit all of this fun into my weekend.

McD's

I absolutely hate the McDonald's commercial with the people doing a choreographed hand-dance sequence because, supposedly, they are so thrilled about the Caramel Mocha. I feel embarrassed for the people who signed on for that advertisement. They will forever be linked to such a stupid marketing ploy.

The coffee drink may be delicious, but I am not inspired to find out. In fact, I want to boycott it because of the stupidity displayed in that commercial. I don't think I would be inspired by a more mature approach simply because I rarely visit McDonald's. I guess I just feel like complaining.

Career Plans

I've been thinking about my career lately. It's not a career I truly anticipated upon graduating from college, but I was open to the possibility. I found, early on, that it was the right path for me to take. Now I worry that it isn't.

I'm not dissatisfied with the work that I do. I love teaching. I love helping young people mature through study, discussion, and practice. I love seeing them achieve more than they thought possible.

Rather, I find the constant cuts and changing measures of success problematic. If the target is always moving, it's difficult to plan. I know that, in life, targets are always moving, but sometimes in education, they aren't. The stakes are simply changed in an effort to suggest that students are not advancing. This means, in short, that if you raise the standard that has been accepted for years as "minimum," schools will no longer be considered effective, even though the graduates may be able to critically think about the world and apply all of the necessary skills for study for work. It comes down to dollars.

The reasons I am considering leaving this field have to do with money and expectations.

The money issue is quite simple. I can barely afford to pay my bills now, and I live very frugally. I often go without things I know I need because I know that I cannot afford them. It has taken a toll through the years. There are more cuts expected - not because we have fewer students but because legislators seem to think that public school teachers have been earning too much. My ten-month salary in no way resembles what others earn in ten months in any other field with my level of education. I am required to take classes, earn additional certifications and degrees, but I have to pay for them out of my own pocket. I have to attend conferences, etc., on my own dime. I am not given adequate resources in the classroom, so I have to purchase them with my own money. I bring most of my work home with me so that I can finish what is impossible to complete during my workday. I do not receive compensation for this. I've done the research, and I'd actually earn more per year in a variety of different fields for which I am qualified. I'd have to give up the two-month "vacation," every summer, but I end up having to take classes, anyway, so it's really not a vacation at all. Oh, my retirement actually won't exist by the time I am old enough to retire, despite having purchase the five-year's credit because my first five years of teaching were not in this system.

The second reason has to do with expectations. All expectations for student success are placed on teachers - NOT administrators, school board members, parents, or the students themselves. I may see a student for a total of five hours each week, if they have good attendance, and I have to compete with cell phones, socializing, etc. I do the best I can. I show up early and stay late (very late most of the week). I give up my lunch break when students need extra help and will not show up outside of school hours. I put responsibility on my students' shoulders. This is now frowned upon by school leaders and parents. I want to be part of the good fight, but when I am expected to somehow teach (raise) someone else's child without some sort of support, it makes me distrust the entire system.

I don't know if this is just an especially bad year or if I really should be venturing back out into the career fairs, etc. I am thinking, though, that something's got to give. I don't know how much more I can take.

At least music is taking over my life again. I might be well-practiced enough to audition for a small professional orchestra somewhere. I could be okay with a 10-hour a week gig, with concerts, if I have another decent-paying job that will allow me to do that.

Setting a Precedent

Some friends of mine had something to say about someone else who wasn't at a recent gathering. I felt the need to defend him, even though what they were saying could be seen as true from an outside perspective. They said that he isn't happy unless he is complaining.

I was very bothered by this because I have been around this individual when he's been happy, and I didn't like that others couldn't see him that way. I jumped in to defend him and then realized that my reality and friendship with this person are quite different from others' realities and friendships with him. I felt honored that I know him differently, but I also felt stupid that I assumed everyone must see this side of him.

In any case, I hate being thrown into that role - as defender - because other people want to discuss someone who isn't there to defend him- or herself. It doesn't make for the most enjoyable gatherings, but when people know where some limits are, I suppose it sets the tone for what is right and wrong. I guess I don't mind being the person who sets that precedent.

Socks & a Solid Man

"I could see all kinds of sock."

Christine said this about Aaron's shorter-than-normal pants when they went to a concert on Friday night. Christine doesn't mince words, and I could almost hear the conversation she must have had with him when she saw his fashion faux pas. She said that she waited until he brought it up, which he did. I don't know what would possess him to bring up his own poor sense when he is doing everything in his power to impress her.

On a related note, Rob M. called me that night to make me aware of Aaron's pursuit of Christine. Rob has become quite the friend. I cannot express how much it meant to me that he was looking out for her, how he paid attention to the irritated and uncomfortable expression on her face, and how he made sure he got a hold me to keep her safe.

Most of my friends have retreated from me last year. It hurts knowing that people just don't want to be around me, but I know that I burned some bridges during my less-than-stable portion of my life. It sucks that since regaining stability and direction, other people don't want to be around me as much. Perhaps I am not as easily influenced, and therefore, not as fun for others. I will take and cherish these newer friends. They are probably better for me, anyway.

Gorillas

At the end of every work day, I meet with two teachers whose classrooms are near my own. We share the ridiculous moments of the day, the struggles we need help with, and general complaints about dealing with adolescents.

On Friday, I worked late. Really late. Part of it was grading student work. Another part was hanging out with the custodian Ronnie who cleans my room. We've struck up a nice friendship this year. While I was still grading student work, Liz stopped by to share her amazement with some students she has in class. She had taken them to the computer lab to do some research. Now, her students are primarily twelfth graders. She was circulating throughout the computer lab area and overheard two students discussing a topic not related to their assigned task. Naturally, she listened to figure out how to approach the subject of putting them back on task without causing a scene.

"Are gorillas real?"

"Yeah, I think so. I think I saw one at a zoo once. But they might not be."

She said both students went silent and began working on the assignment again.


Now, I understand that our students come from different backgrounds, but it shocks me when a 17- or 18-year-old has no idea whether or not a gorilla is an actual animal. Something has happened in our culture that has allowed students to float in a state of make-believe and has provided very little exposure to the natural world.

I will admit that I have spent the last two days chuckling over this absurd dialogue that Liz swears is true.

I'm left wondering, though, if I mentioned it to Ronnie. He would get a kick out of that.

I can imagine myself asking tomorrow, "Hey, Ronnie, did we talk about gorillas on Friday?"

He'd probably respond with questioning look and say no.

I'd then tell him that if he makes it to my room before I leave, he has to remind me to talk to him about gorillas.

Goals for 2011

(the beginning of the list)

Perform with the Ann Arbor Concert Band
Perform with the Canton Concert Band
Perform with the Ypsilanti Symphony Orchestra
Play and sing with the Ann Arbor-Ypsilanti Ukulele Group
Train for and run in the Dexter-Ann Arbor 10K in June
Donate twenty items every month to charity
Finish my MA project and earn my degree
Go on a road trip
Plant and sustain a garden and flowerbeds
Successfully knit something other than a scarf
Find a regular chess opponent
Read a minimum of ten novels/plays/etc.

:-(

I feel betrayed by two friends.

A Dream

I keep dreaming that my car is stolen. I go to pick up pizza and someone steals it from the parking lot while I am inside the building. I never learn, even though I remember during each dream that my car was stolen from that same spot every time. I routinely lock the doors, look back at the car, enter the building, and then within a minute of standing in line or reaching the counter, I look back out the window to see my car is nowhere to be found.

With what I know about the meaning of dreams and psychology, this probably means something along the lines of loss of how I move through life in regard to some of the qualities that define who I am: relationships, work, etc. The relationships that used to keep me going aren't there anymore or, at least, they don't move me the same way. Work doesn't really have opportunities for advancement that other fields offer. In any case, the dream probably has to do with some sort of failure or loss.

2011-01-29

I've always been so open with my feelings in the past, but I haven't felt as ready to share the more intimate details of my psyche lately when I speak to friends. I'm not sure if I am trying to protect them or protect myself. Even here, I didn't express everything, mostly because I didn't want others to know how deeply I was hurting. I realize now that I perpetuated this feeling because I let my worry about others' perception of me get in the way of healing.

I think I might train for a 10K. That way, I can find yet another outlet for, or distraction from, all of my emotions.

I woke later than I had expected, but the wake-up was better than I had expected. I felt motivated to do laundry, reorganize some of my dresser drawers, research different items for integration into my Shakespeare teaching unit, map out my calendar for the upcoming months (I'm incredibly busy, which I didn't expect), and watch The X-Files, Season 2. I find that having it on in the background makes me a bit more creative and ambitious. I'm still not sure why that is, but I'll take it.

I showered upon waking and my day is moving much more smoothly than other days when I wait an hour or so before officially starting my day. I allowed my hair to air dry, and I find that I rather like the wavy quality of my hair today.

These are all just random thoughts, but I don't care. It feels nice to be enjoying natural light seeping into the windows, a n

A New Look

I decided that my old blog page was a little too dark for me.

I just purchased more clothes, a new pastime that has allowed me to explore new trends, etc. I really do prefer the bookworm look, complete with the mild up-do and plastic-rimmed eyeglasses. Skirts, sweaters, flats...it's all starting to fall into place. I've been wearing some vibrant accent colors, although the trusty blacks and grays are still the primary threads.

I don't feel a hundred percent today, but some recent stress on top of a head cold sort of set me up for a weekend of rest and relaxation. Tempers are flaring at work. Schedule changes, accountability checks, exams, etc. It's all taking a toll on those around me. I, on the other hand, don't really feel worried.


I do feel somewhat left behind by my friends lately. I've been slinking back into the shadows because I think I know what I want and I am distancing myself from those who want something different for me. I learned that my friends have strong opinions about who I should be with. It's no one's decision beyond my own. I really don't want to hear their suggestions that I should be with someone else because they would be with someone else. They do not know all of the details about the different people in my life. It is not their business to know. I stopped asking for commentary or for others to listen some time ago, but they do not stop telling me what to do. When I ask them to stop, they become irritated and state that they are "just trying to help." Then they tell me that it is my decision, and I can do what I want. This would be fine if they meant it. I can understand tone quite well, and the tone each uses indicates to me that they don't believe I can make the right choice for myself.

It's disappointing that people think that I shouldn't live my own life on my own terms.

I probably won't be spending the time I used to on sustaining these friendships. I just feel like there are some people I can leave behind now. I never tell them how to live.

My Friend

Your job is to support me. Maia taught me that last summer.

I've had close friends my entire life, but I suppose I didn't fully understand what the purpose was until now. I'd always been there to listen to my friends, but I don't think I had ever truly felt supported until Maia came into my life.

She is one of the most amazing people I have had the privilege to know. She has a beautiful family, a career that allows her to support others in their times of need, a darling husband who seems so completely terrific, and a wise kindness that allows her to see beyond what the rest of the world sees.

She told me last summer that although she had her own ideas about where my life might be heading, she knew she was supposed to support me in the choices I make - that the choices are MINE to make.

I think a lot about this particular conversation we had. It became clear that she stands out among my friends. She is one who isn't talking about me negatively behind my back. She isn't telling mutual friends that I need to leave behind the most important relationship of my life. She isn't lecturing me about still not being where I think I should be. She isn't giving me bad advice about meeting and interacting with new men.

Maia, you are an exquisite human being. You have experienced so many things, positive and negative, and you've never let anything keep you down. You are one of the most positive and wonderful people I've ever met. I am so fortunate to know you, and even more fortunate to have you as a friend.

Thank you for being the person you are.