lattes aren't worth it.

a few days ago, i had excruciating pain in all the knuckles in my right hand. i'm not someone who typically bows to pain. i deal with pain. i'm good with pain. but that was bad enough to distract me. and today, my elbow, the right one of course, is the problem.

i'm almost certain that starbucks is giving me carpal tunnel syndrome.
damn frappuccinos.

proud to be an american.

where working, tax-paying citizens can't get health care.
can you? because 22, working, mostly able-bodied, and as "citizen" as they come, i sure can't.

it's all wearing so very thin right now.

things which do not put me in a good mood.

when i was 18, some things happened, and after a whole incident that included a truck, i ended up hospitalized but alive.

the sad thing is that the people responsible have more or less told me to shake it off.

and in the grand scheme, some days, like today, have been exceptionally shitty. you see, even though this happened 4 years ago, i spend whole days unable to feel some of my toes. for those who don't know, this has nothing to do with my toes, and everything to do with some nerves and discs in my lower back.

and also, 4 years later, i get rejected by insurance companies, and sometimes, to add insult to injury (literally, hah!), this happens on the same day that my toes are numb.

there's no good way to shake that off.

today really could have been better.

no time! no time!

for months, i've been suffering from severe insomnia. for a while, i thought it was stress or too much caffeine or anticipation. but the days and weeks have come and gone, and nothing's changed.

sometimes, while i lay alone in the dark, i put my hand on my chest, and i can feel my heart racing erratically. "calm down," i tell myself. there's nothing to worry about. yet it beats so wildly that i'm certain i'll die. i try and try to close my eyes, but sleep won't come. i try to write down my thoughts. what's wrong? did i forget something? will i get my life together enough these next few weeks? what if rachel and i don't make it into the program? is it him?

the anxiety weighs on me, even in my dreams. i toss and turn, wishing i could forget about my day, or my exhaustion, or the fact that i don't feel like i'm ready for this summer. wishing that, so long as my eyes are closed and i am, at least physically, sleeping, the anxiety will lift and i will feel free, unburdened, and excited.

my room is a disaster right now, full of half-done things. my half-done visa process. half-packed suitcases. books strewn about, because i've only half-decided to give them to angie and half-resolved myself to keeping them. half-answers on moving out, id cards, and international sims. the fact that this cursed mother's day event is only half-done, and chris' half-completed present occupying my desk and the end of my bed.

i calculated today. i teach 5 classes every morning, and 1 class every afternoon. except, last semester i was teaching 3, so let's average it to 2. i also teach 1 class every night, but that doesn't include when i was carrying double class loads after chad left. according to my calculations, i teach 8 classes a day, 40 classes a week, 160 classes a month, and it seems up to this point, over 1,600 classes this past year. i'd never done the math until now. and each day, like clockwork, i feel pressured to invent some new idea for them, to make learning fun and entertaining, so that they forget that their life of academic misery is only beginning.

and each day, the same things wear on me a little more. i'm very, plainly, completely dry. i've heard the expression "i've got nothing left to give" and i always thought it was an excuse. it's not. sometimes, while standing during the morning's song, i'm certain that i'll pass out right there on the spot, because i'm just drained.

but it's only 6 more weeks.

almost.

"what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger."
or so the saying goes.

i somehow convinced chris to take the scooter to chinese class last night. despite our incomplete knowledge of taipei above ground, and despite our uncertainty of which roads, exactly, we're allowed to take on a scooter, we didn't die. i thought we might when he unknowingly cruised onto the renai roundabout. apparently, he thought i jumped off the scooter when i saw the car coming straight for us, but no. just a little scared, that's all.

i get better and then i get worse. it's been almost 4 years since that accident, and like clockwork, i feel worse when the seasons change. summer goes well, but winter comes and my back seizes up once again. i go for massages periodically. i find that they help, but it's only temporary. the doctor has always told me to be active. keep stretching. and i am active, but my flexibility is so bad i can't even touch my toes.
it makes me angry, on occasion, that it was all so avoidable. to know that i could be 22 and not have a persistent, lingering pain in my back. on the whole, i try not to dwell on it too much. i try to ignore it. push through it. i try not to let it bother me. because that's how i deal. but it's frustrating to know that it's just there. that i have two options... let it bother me or ignore it. i choose the latter because i only have one life.
am i an ingrate for feeling this way? i'm lucky to be alive. i'm lucky to be as well as i am. but it makes me angry that i have to drag this around with me everywhere. and angrier when i think about some of the things the lawyers have said to me over the years. i think "amusing" was the exact word. amusing because he, a man twice my age and twice my weight, had thrown his back out before and failed to see how my situation was any different. oh, how i seethed that day. i wanted to scream, and sometimes i still do. i wanted to tell him that if he felt that way, surely he wouldn't object to me putting his own daughter under the truck so that she could feel exactly how i did. no more, no less. after all, it was "amusing," wasn't it? if it was so amusing, surely he would maintain the same sense of humor? oh, that wouldn't be funny, mr. lawyer? then why would you say that to me? are you soul-less?

i've realized that i rarely talk about it. i don't want to complain. but it's worse than i let on. some days are better and others are worse. i know part of the reason "amusing" was the word is because i keep going. because it doesn't seem apparent in my life. that's just me, i want to say to them all. that's just what i do. i keep going. it's my method. i force myself to keep moving through all the undesirable events in my life. my job(s), depression, homesickness, a break-up, school, moving away... all of it. if i could, i would tell them all that i don't say anything because complaining incessantly is for the faint of heart... it doesn't help anything. whining and saying i can't i can't i can't is for those who let life get to them too much. and i would ask them if any aspect of my life displays faint-heartedness. i'm not a girly-girl. i'm not and have never been delicate. i'm not a girl who likes to admit she needs anyone. i'm a trouble-shooter. a survivor. a fighter. and yet, it seems, to be this way makes my pain "amusing."




this was never meant to be this long. but like i said, it's been almost 4 years coming.