remain in light

Just in case . . .

2005-06-01T23:53:00.000-07:00

you come across this and wonder where I've gone, I've taken my entries over to my livejournal.com account (username: jessiqua). Thanks for stopping by.

grief

2005-03-03T23:07:00.001-08:00

Today was a hard day, the hardest since Saturday. I woke feeling melancholic. I had to suddenly tell myself I was awake and that I needed to get out of bed. This is not normal for me. I usually wake up and am out of bed within about five-ten minutes, but I laid there this morning for at least a half hour before I realized it. Something about the mornings leaves me more vunerable when I face the day. Perhaps it's built up anxiety around what the day holds, and the tasks and deadlines looming over head.

Everything right now seems so HUGE because I am dealing with so many emotions, so much grief. I cried a bit today, quite a bit, and it felt nice. I also avoided homework again so that I could clean and organize my apartment, and I LOVE that feeling. It is a very effective technique when I need to pick myself up.

I am going to Portland tomorrow night with Charity to see the David Byrne power point lecture. We have exclusive tickets that entitle us admission to a reception afterward with him (and a few others who also purchased these types of tickets.) It will be nice to get out of town, even if just over night. We'd planned it over a month ago, and it's something I have been thinking of like a light at the end of the tunnel - or maybe just a peek hole half way through the tunnel . . . which is also okay.

Charity and I met just over a month ago, but we'd corresponded via email for a little while before then. We came together based on our admiration and love for David Byrne, and quite a nice friendship has been blossoming. It feels so odd to be starting a new friendship as I grieve the loss of one of my most precious friendships, but I also acknowledge this as a part of life. I just wish Sybil had a chance to meet Charity because I know they would totally hit it off. Charity is so intuitive, and knows herself so well. She and Sybil would have quite a bit in common (besides a friendship with me.) :) I did have a chance to tell Sybil a little bit about Charity that weekend I was at her apartment, the weekend before her final admittance to the hospital. It feels strange, still. I guess that's normal.

Speaking of close friendships, my other super close friend, Marci called me two nights ago and we had a very nice conversation about grief and loss. Her father died suddenly while on a business trip in Russia seven years ago. She really understands what I am feeling, and it was comforting to talk with her on this level. We have been friends for nearly 17 (!) years, and her father's death really hit me hard as I've never been close to my father. I didn't understand, I thought it was so unfair that a man so devoted to his wife and children could be taken away, so far from home, and so young (48.) I was pissed at the world. And this was because of how much I love her and her family. As with Sybil and her family, I've learned so much about friendship through them, and I value that so much.

Marci and her husband and their kids moved to Sitka last summer, and I was so bummed, although excited and hopeful for their new life up there. Well, she told me on the phone that they are planning to move back to Washington this summer!! I really hope it works out. It will be great to have them here.

The people I am closest to are nowhere near me:
Hans (BF of 3+ years) - In CA
Deana (sister) - In VA
Sybil (friend of ten years) - Singing with the angels
Marci (friend of 17 years) - Alaska
Sharon (friend of four years) - Chicago

Sometimes, I feel isolated, but I tend not to admit it.

Current sounds: The Daily Show w/ Jon Stewart

I have SO much homework to catch up on.

(I am now keeping a live journal at www.livejournal.com, username jessiqua)

grief is my daily planner

2005-03-03T23:07:00.000-08:00

Sybil's Memorial

2005-03-03T17:25:00.000-08:00

Sybil Glory DeFord

January 31, 1973 to February 22, 2005Sybil was known for her amazing love of life and a kind of crazy, wonderful vital energy that that infected everyone she encountered. She was the kind of person that had total strangers come up to her and want to touch her for a moment just to ''get what she had.'' Being a Mystic, she had an ever-present sense of the divine presence within her, and that presence was her constant companion, mentor, comforter, and friend. While she did not often speak about this aspect of her self, she did strongly affect others just by being who she was. Her many friends all talk of how she was an inspiration to them that never failed to uplift them to greater thoughts and deeds, and how she always helped them to renew their faith in a better life.Sybil was a writer. She wrote an online journal that brought her new friendships from all over the country. She wrote poems and short stories that were gifts to the world from her remarkable mind and heart. She was in the process of writing two fantasy novels, and a book titled ''The Gift of Cancer'' when her life was cut short. If the world could somehow know what those books were going to contain, it would weep for what it has lost.Sybil was always expanding her horizons. We gave her a microscope and she ran around collecting samples of water, slimes, molds, bugs, and everything else she could find. She would cry out in delight at the new world she could now enter through her extended sight. We gave her a digital camera and she took pictures wherever she went, showing us amazing things that we hadn't really noticed before. She made her own soap, candles, and paper, wove cloth, did bead work, and sewed her own clothes. She loved to ride her bicycle, go kayaking, go for walks, do yoga and other mind-body workouts. And, she bought books about it all. To her, books were doorways into other minds and other worlds. In addition to the non-fiction, she loved Fantasy and Science Fiction, but she was constantly pushing out into other genres, based on recommendations from friends and family. While she was not a gamer per se, she loved the fantasy Role Playing Game Morrowind. She played it for hundreds of hours while her body was too sick to play out in the real world. She often credited Morrowind for ''getting her through it all.'' When she was in remission after her second round of cancer, she had the feeling that she had not done enough in her life. She bought a guitar, researched singing lessons, and proposed marriage to Brad Robertson, her lover of six years. While she was in the hospital for her third round of cancer, she often talked bout how strange and wonderful it was going to be when she was ''someone's wife.''Sybil and her family desire to thank the wonderful doctors, nurses, and staff at the hospitals that treated her. These incredible, dedicated people surrounded her with love, kindness, sensitive care, and a genuine concern for her comfort and well being that went beyond what we could ever hope for. There was Providence Hospital in Everett, including Dr. Cohenour and his staff, the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance (SCCA), and finally there was the outstanding facility at the University of Washington Medical Center. We will always remember the entire staff on the 8th floor of that facility with the most heartfelt thanks, and we feel a deep gratitude for the dialysis nurses and technicians, and the amazing Intensive Care unit people that came to help Sybil. And, then there was the Outpatient nurses and staff who picked up all the pieces and worked with Sybil so she could spend a few weeks at home. She treasured those weeks. We are grateful.Without exception, every single person that was involved in treating Sybil (and there were dozens) was a skilled professional and an excellent human being. These people get up every day and go out to battle a ruthless enemy that kills the young and old, the fathers and mothers, and the children of us all. We are proud to have met them.Sybil is survived by: Robert and Virginia DeFord, her parents, Jason DeFord, her brother, and Brad Robertson, her fiancé.

melt down

2005-02-28T22:44:00.000-08:00

It's good to know one's limits, but that's not enough. Honoring those limits is crucial. Well, I thought I knew my limits, and I thought I was doing everything I was supposed to, but I over-extended myself towards the end of last week and had a major emotional melt-down. I'd gotten little sleep throughout the week, and returned to work Thursday morning, then had three hours of class that night, followed by six hours of class Friday, and then back to work Saturday morning, again on little sleep. One of the first customers Saturday was from the Team In Training. She had first come in nearly a month ago and I mentioned Sybil to her. Well, she came in this time with a purple wrist band and handed it to me, saying to give it to Sybil for her. I informed her Sybil had died Monday, and just in saying that, I broke down. She held my hand and told me to keep the band, and I had to pull away and cry in the bathroom. It just snuck up on me. The rest of the day I was a wreck, but in a sneaky way. I mean, I'd just be going along doing my work and blammo, tears down my face. Hans showed up from the airport and we went for a nice brunch over which I determined I'd better get Sunday's shift covered so I could recuperate a little more. I was still feeling that awful sick feeling inside, a sign to me that I had a lot to purge. This all turned into a fiasco with my manager who claimed she'd help me find coverage, then didn't answer her phone for at least two hours, and then expected me to call a bunch of people to ask them to cover my shift. I was crying pretty hard by the time I'd heard from her, and she was telling me she didn't know what else to do for me. I said, "So you want me to work tomorrow, crying sproadically when I should be doing my tasks? Dealing with people in this state? I can't do it! I shouldn't have done it today. I can't work tomorrow!" She said she'd call me back in a little bit, which she did informing me she got my shift covered. Hmm, that was easy! Well, there are a few more details in how she got the shift covered, but what really surprises me here is that she couldn't make all the calls or couldn't ask someone to make these calls for me. Well, I needn't keep dwelling on it. Hans thinks J displayed managerial incompetency, and I have to agree. I wish I didn't have to work there anymore.

Anyway, I had a nice time with Hans these last few days. I am feeling a lot more stable and physically well - for the most part. I still have the strange pain/nausea, but it's fading. We were silly last night - we ordered pizza in and watched the Oscars. He had to leave earlier than planned, though on a flight tonight instead of tomorrow morning. I am sad, but I understand he needed to tend to some very serious stuff at home.

I spoke with Brad last night, the first time since Sybil died. He seems to be doing well, considering it all. He says he has his moments, of course, but he's keeping himself busy. He spent five or six hours cleaning house yesterday, something Sybil probably could have never imagined in her wildest dreams! Brad doing the cleaning instead of her! heh He said he's keeping some of her belongings, like her glasses and some jewelry, and the Bride's magazine she bought very recently.

I started this entry earlier tonight and have taken a few hours to finish it. I feel bad that people have been leaving such nice comments, but I've been pretty bad at replying. It's kind of hard getting a hang of how this all works. Plus my cognitive functioning seems pretty impaired this past week or so. I couldn't even construct full sentences in class Friday night, let alone remember drinks orders at work the day before.

Hans and I went to the new Seattle Public Library today. He wasn't so impressed by it, but I thought it was pretty trippy. While I was there, it dawned on me that the last time I'd visited Sybil in her home, the weekend prior to her last admittance to the hospital - she was talking about the library and wanting to check it out. I wondered today if my sudden desire to go there was a way to feel reminded of her, or perhaps she kinda guided me there today as a way to communicate with me. I dunno. I just know that wherever I go lately, I always have memories of our friendship springing up. It's so nice, of course, but because her death is still so recent, there is sadness equally attached.

I get to see my therapist tomorrow, and I am thankful for that.

I ate Kettle potato chips five minutes ago - disgusting and delicious!

Sybil's Keys

2005-02-25T23:20:00.000-08:00

Today has been rough, trying to go on with life as though things are just dandy. Our society is so strange when it comes to grief and loss. Someone will say compassionately to the grieving one, "I bet it feels as though the world should stop so you can grieve," and the grieving one thinks, "Well, why the hell shouldn't it stop?" That's what I feel, anyway. Why should I feel as though I have to attend class and go to work and act as though I am "strong" and productive while my heart is aching and my insides turn and twist? Why are we so obsessed with productivity, non-human mechanicalistic operating, stoicism? What is so damn wrong with crying, letting it out, screaming and swearing? Is it that it makes others uncomfortable? Isn't that a shame? No, it's a CRYING shame!

I worked six hours yesterday and sat through three hours of class. I had to remain detached and pretend to be somewhat present and involved and productive. People were supportive of me, but why is a grieving person expected to carry on with life when their heart is elsewhere? I sat through six hours of class today. In between classes, I had a doctor appointment where I learned I surely don't have Lupus or Rheumatoid Arthritis I was tested for a second time), I also don't have Hep A or C, or hemochromatosis or a thyroid disorder - and gee, I probably don't really have arthritis, according to these tests, even though for the past few months when I wake in the morning or after a nap, I can barely move my fingers and sometimes my ankles. The stoic robot doctor then asked if I was under any extra stress, as he knew I am a graduate student who also works part-time. I began to tell him my dear friend Sybil died Monday, and I started to cry. He said, "Oh, I see. Okay. Well, that's sad. Yeah, that's sad." He didn't offer me a Kleenex. He simply went on to explain that stress can cause all the symptoms I've been experiencing. I've been way more stressed in the past than I am now, so I am not sure why I would all of a sudden manifest these symptoms, but damn, those tests are all coming up negative. I suppose my next step is to take it into my own hands - start meditating and working out and doing my pilates again. It's been a few months since I did, so maybe this is a sign that I am totally out of whack. Interesting that the onset of these symptoms did coincide with the same week Sybil went in for her second, and ultimately deadly, stem cell transplant.

Another Sybil memory: This one occurred many times! Whenever she and I would go out somewhere for drinks, usually the Dog House on Whidbey Island, she would get ready to leave and start looking for her keys in her big pouchy purse. She wouldn't find them immediately and would instantly start to panic. "Jess! I lost my keys! They're not in my purse! Oh my God, where did I leave them?" she'd say while frantically running her hands rampantly through her purse . . . I would wait smiling, because I knew they were in there. I knew this because I got used to her doing this. It was so funny, though I 'd watch intently. After a few minutes, the keys would magically appear at the bottom of her purse. I always knew she had the keys in her possession, how could she not? Innately, Sybil held the keys to many wonders of the Universe, and I felt that so deeply the more I got to know her. She often doubted herself, as she did the moment she felt her keys were missing, but Sybil knew more than she realized as is evident through her beautiful writings, as is evident in the way she lived her life, and in the way she loved those in her life.

Pics of Sybil: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jessiqua/

Driving With Sybil

2005-02-25T15:41:00.000-08:00

So, I had this memory last night as I was falling asleep. It was from probably 6 or 7 years ago at least. Sybil and I were at a Fourth of July party on Whidbey Island. We'd both smoked some pot (this was an extremely rare event for me, so the results were a little strange!) What I remember is Sybil talking incessantly about her philosophy of the Universe, and probably something about stars and planets and how we're all connected. A few hours went by, and we were driving somewhere, I passed out. I remember waking up to Sybil saying, "Oh my God, Jess, where are we?" I sit up and literally, all I see is four-feet tall grass surrounding us, yet a paved path behind us. I quickly concluded we likely came from there, so I suggested she pull backward and see where we end up. Soon, we were on a familiar road and on our way to wherever it was we were going.
This is just one of those things I love about Sybil - well, her driving skills were just too charming, but on top of that, the sense of adventure one felt when embarking on any conversation with her, or any outing. Because she was always so open to so many pathways of thought and perception, she was often lead - and often lead others - to places beyond the scope of everyday reality. That Mystical Traveller, Free Spirited Sybil!

gift of touch

2005-02-23T20:00:00.000-08:00

I barely slept yesterday, got maybe four hours of sleep. I awoke feeling some disbelief of what had happened the night before. It was real . . . It was beautiful and so sad. I couldn't stay in bed so I went for coffee down the street. On the way there, I instantly took notice of the brilliant sunshine and the sound of birds chirping away. The water down the road was glistening like foil wrap, and the air was quite cool, refreshing and rejuvenating. I spoke with some coworkers/friends about Sybil, and it felt nice to share it with them. They are so supportive. They were at the fundraiser I held for Sybil, and they felt connected to her even though they had never met her.

I couldn't focus on my homework, so I took my camera on a walk to Seattle Center. Immediately I remembered going there a year ago to meet Sybil, Brad, Jason and her parents to celebrate her birthday. She so badly wanted to see the 3-D insect movie. We got to wear silly goggles, and we wore them way before the show started and laughed at one another. I couldn't believe how much fun that was. I couldn't walk to that area of the Center yesterday, but I walked to the fountain, taking pics of shadows and lines along the way. I walked to the base of the fountain, this huge bulb which usually has giant spurts of water bursting out of it, into the air and curving this way and that. At this moment, though it just had a thin smooth layer of water pouring over it, and two or three seagulls were perched on top. I took some pics and sat there staring at the way the sunshine obliterated any designation between the water, metal and light. Then I heard this roaring and the birds flew away. I stood for about two seconds somewhat mystified by the roaring, then realized the fountain had just been turned on full-blast! I ran giggling so as not to get soaked, mostly protecting my camera. I made my way to a bench and sat there watching the water burst into the sky and little kids down near the base playing. The sunshine illuminated each droplet, each stream of water that shot out of the bulb. It was so beautiful - I started to cry. I guess you could say the fountain at that time symbolized the tears that were waiting to rush out my eyes. I got up and started home. I took a few more pics, then went to the grocery store to get my brother a belated birthday card. I then went to the sympathy aisle and picked out cards for Sybil's parents, one for her brother and one for Brad. I broke down crying again, harder than when at the fountain. I wasn't worried people would see me, but I really didn't want to cause a scene, so I stayed a little bit hidden until I got the water works under control. I bought myself some flowers. I don't know what they're called, but I know they're pretty and I think Sybil would agree!

My sister Melissa picked me up at 1:30 and we went to get her son Ryan from the airport. We talked and cried on the way there. On the way back, same thing. She played a Frou Frou cd really loud and we smiled at each other as we wiped away tears and laughed at random grafitti along the highway walls. We had lunch at Jalisco's near Key Arena - yummy food! They dropped me off and I managed to get a two hour nap in, however I still had a headache throughout the night from lack of sleep. I spent quite a bit of time reading through Sybil's livejournal, which brought more tears.

Here is a poem from 11-1-00, a year and a half before her diagnosis:

A paroxysm
of the symptoms
of my deep disease
came upon me
with fleeting
sharp
tangible
pain
when this morning
while
showering

I suddenly
understood

as I stood
dripping with
warm
water

that I would be
the last in my
blood
line
to rend flesh
with wings of
atomic
wonder
and fly home

The paroxysm
manifested itself in blood
running roughly through
my battered veins
pumped full of milk
from the ghosts
I dreamt of
during a night of
unglorious solitude
long ago

While I drank
in the warm
water
I wondered
what would
be the result

of another
misplaced
trust?

And then,
later,
when I was
riddled with
the
glowing
pontification
about which
I
really knew nothing

I merely smiled
and pretended
to understand

It's laughable
really

That
Someday
this body
will be dust
and I will
perhaps look back
at the cool earth
and wonder

why

it meant

so much

Last night as I was trying to fall asleep, I whispered repeatedly, "Thank you, thank you, thank you so much for inviting me!" to Sybil. I felt invited to her send off and I treasure that so much. Then, and I know this might sound strange to some - it sounds strange to me because I really don't know what to believe about spirits and the after-life - but while my left hand laid outstretched, I suddenly felt as though it was leaning against something. My first thought was my cat Simon, but he's furry, and I didn't feel fur. I felt this presence, a touch along my index, middle and other middle finger (what is that finger called?) I quickly felt it was Sybil holding onto my hand in the same way I held onto hers as she died (I held her left hand.) This felt natural to think of, though. I hadn't expected it, but once I felt the touch, I felt certain it was she. I fell asleep soon after this.

Today has been difficult off and on, but I've allowed myself to cry more than I did yesterday, and it feels good to let it out. I've been listening to Johnny Cash's My Mother's Hymn Book, which is so soothing and sweet. I've tried doing my homework, but am not really getting very far on it. It was another gorgeous sunny and warm day. I received a cd in the mail today - it's Wham's Make It Big. I had to laugh. I'd ordered it last week. I played it while I showered. I had to laugh during Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go . . . Felt nice to let loose a teeny bit, even if I was fighting back tears.

I feel like I want to write so much more, but I will save it. I will think more about it so I can articulate better, and be more precise.

Hans is coming Saturday - I can't wait!

and goodnight

2005-02-22T02:22:00.000-08:00

My dear friend Sybil died tonight at approximately 9:30 pm.

Normally, I would go to the hospital after work, but today, I kept feeling a nudge to wait . . . wait until 7 or 7:30, so I did. I cleaned my apartment, took a long shower, made a nice dinner, prepared myself, and then went to the hospital. While I was shocked by what I saw, I took it as a sign that tonight would be the night. I can't describe it here, but anyone who has witnessed a death might know something of what I am talking about. Her parents ended up coming to the hospital about a half hour after I got there, which surprised me because I had heard they would be gone until Wednesday at which time support would be terminated . . . when they arrived and saw the condition she was in, they decided this would be the night. Brad (Sybil's fiance) went to get Jason, her brother who was not reachable by phone for some reason. After they arrived, we visited some and Robert spoke with the doctor about what was about to occur.

Soon, we gathered around her bed as the breathing support was terminated. We watched as she took fewer and fewer breaths. I kissed her hand, she gasped for air, breathed about three more times, and that was it. I was for some reason holding in my emotions, but found it so difficult to do when I watched Ginny lean over her daughter crying. I can't imagine anything being more painful to witness than parents grieving the death of their child(ren).

I felt so honored to be there for Sybil's transition. I cannot express in words how beautiful this was. I feel as though Sybil visited me in spirit this afternoon and told me to wait until later to go to the hospital. She must have known that I wanted to be present when she left.

My dear beautiful fellow Aquarian . . . I miss you so much, but I understand that you are happier now. I believe that. And I meant it when I said you could always come back and say hi!

There is a lot more I would love to share here, but I've been awake for over 22 hours and need some sleep now.

Pictures of Sybil can be seen here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jessiqua/

some words

2005-02-21T13:17:00.000-08:00

I just got home from work and haven't been to the hospital yet today. I browsed a cancer support group on Live Journal and someone had written asking for music selections to help through their grieving process for a loved one who died recently. I too connect with music on an emotional level. Right away, I thought of this beautiful song by The The, called Love is Stronger Than Death

Love love love
Love love love
Me & my friend were walking
In the cold light of mourning
Tears may blind the eyes,
but the soul is not deceived
In this world even winter ain't what it seems

Here come the blue skies,
Here comes the springtime
When the rivers run high & the tears run dry
When everything that dies
Shall rise

Love love love is stronger than death
Love love love is stronger than death

In our lives we hunger for those we cannot touch
All the thoughts unuttered
& all the feelings unexpressed
Play upon our hearts like the mist upon our breath
But, awoken by grief, our spirits speak
"How could you believe that the life within the seed
That grew arms that reached and a heart that beat
And lips that smiled and eyes that cried
Could ever die?"

Here come the blue skies,
Here comes the springtime
When the rivers run high
& the tears run dry
When everything that dies
Shall rise

Love love love is stronger than death
Love love love is stronger than death

Shall rise
Shall rise

In the coming days, I will post some pics of Sybil at my flickr site:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/jessiqua/

presence

2005-02-20T18:24:00.000-08:00

After work, I went to see Sybil with my sister Melissa. Sybil and Melissa had a connection that lead to many nights of just hanging out, talking and drinking wine when I lived in Olympia. Melissa is 37 now, and has always adored Sybil and to this day, credits Sybil with having taught her so many lessons about life, just through the way Sybil lived her own life and the compassionate way she spoke to others about love, beauty and truth. I wish I could have prepared Melissa for what she would see today when she went into Sybil's room. She was caught off guard, I think and broke down crying. Sybil's friends Roni and Krista were in the room, we were all speechless. Her family decided today that 'support' would cease Wednesday. Without the 'support', Sybil is expected to live 48 hours at the most. I so want to be present when she passes. I am not sure where this comes from, but I have the urge to be there for this transition. I suspect Sybil wants it, too.

Bergen, Sybil's wonderful nurse who everyone absolutley adores, spoke with Melissa and me before we left today. She is so insightful, without a doubt in the right field of work. She said she and Brad (Sybil's fiance) both noticed that as of yesterday, Sybil didn't seem present in her body. They suspect she has gone already, or is in between. I could barely believe what I was hearing because this is what I felt, too. And I recalled feeling this unexplainable need to say goodbye to Sybil Friday night, saying things I would never have planned. When I visited yesterday, the dialysis nurse encouraged me to speak to Sybil, thinking Sybil would love to hear my voice, yet when I did speak, it felt erie as though I was just speaking to a body. I can't explain this, I simply can't, but this is truth. I don't know a lot about death, dying and the after life, but I do know that what Bergen said today resonated so deeply with me and has changed my perspective on death forever. It's as though I've received confirmation of our connection, and of human connection in general.

I haven't been able to cry much at all, and I worry that this will all catch up with me soon. Another part of me, though wishes to carry on as best as possible to honor Sybil. I know the last thing she would want of any of her loved ones is that they spend a lot of time crying about her. I know she would rather we reflect on the beauty she brought into our lives, and all that she taught us to see. I want to scream, actually, but when will it be safe?

Sybil, on the night of the fundraiser, my sister Laurie and I got into a horrible, gut wrenching argument that brought out the ugliest in us both. I was so worried sick about you that I had this burning sensation that I am feeling now as I think about you. This incident brought Melissa closer to me as she comforted me, supported me and stood firmly by my side as Laurie mistreated me. Since this incident, Melissa and I have come closer together and learned more about one another. This is something I had actually yearned for for some time, and I want to thank you for bringing us together. I sense you did this on purpose, and I intend to take it seriously and to cherish our times together. As I say goodbye to you, I welcome this closer relationship with my siser, as well as a new friend, Charity, who I know you would totally dig!So, don't you worry, I mean, you know I will always love and miss you tremendously, but please make your departure knowing your loved ones will be alright, and that you will always constitute a huge portion of our spirits. Thank you for everything, my dear sweet fellow Aquarian! XOXO

preparing for goodbye

2005-02-19T19:20:00.000-08:00

According to the doctors, there is essentially nothing more they can do for Sybil. She is still in septic shock, her lungs aren't functioning and her graft vs. host disease is still too aggressive to treat. Her family will meet tomorrow morning with the doctors to decide when to end treatment. Once treatment ends, they belive she will have 48 hours left. There is talk of ending the treatment immediately or within about three days. This isn't quite registering yet. I feel as though I am in some emotional shock, but writing about it here and in my paper journal should help pull those stuck emotions out. Part of me feels relieved for Sybil, as I just want for her to be out of this misery, unplugged from the machines and lines and tubes and packets - take it all away and let her rest . . . my dearest sweet friend, I love you and I miss you so much.

dreading the weekend

2005-02-18T22:23:00.000-08:00

Just as I had suspected, so far this weekend is intense and painful. I continued to feel sick today, but not like I have the flu or a cold. It was similar to how I felt last weekend, and how I felt in the days leading up to Sybil's fundraiser when I was stressed and avoiding my emotions. My stomach is so upset, my appetite nearly non-existent. I've had a few sneak attacks of grief today thinking about Sybil. When I felt sickest this afternoon (after my shower, of course) I had to lay on the couch and chill out, but just stopping to do that made it impossible to avoid my sadness and I broke down. I called Hans and we spoke, which helped, but I so wish he was here to comfort me.

I had my two three hour classes today and went straight to the hospital after the last one ended at 7:15. Sybil's parents were gone for the day, I suspect they are preparing for the weekend. I had some time alone with Sybil and I used it to say things to her, hoping they would register on some level. I read some quotes I wrote in her guestbook from the book I brought in by Thomas Moore. They had to do with Soul and the depths of Soul and the Soul of the Universe and how we all share that Soul. I thought she would like that. I also told her about the Myers-Briggs tests we did in class tonight. I know she is an INFP and I am an INFJ. I thought of her throughout class when we watched a video of a woman depicting the Intuitive type. Sybil barely moved as I spoke to her, but I think she could hear me. I told her Susan Magic Woman sends her love and her thoughts, and I told her a number of times that I love her. I hadn't said that in awhile, but tonight I just kept wanting to say it. I told her she is the sweetest person I've ever known, one of the sweetest people in the Universe, and that I miss her. I told her Roni called tonight and that she would be coming to see her tomorrow. I told her I was going to have a Fun Food Friday, something she told me she and Brad always celebrated. They would have fun food and watch movies or whatever. I had popcorn for dinner. Well, that's nothing unusual for me, but it felt different tonight. I also told her I was going to watch Monk tonight, but I ended up forgetting until now, and now it's half way over and I don't like watching that show half way through cause I like it too much. I'll wait for the rerun, I guess. Brad said he would turn it on for her so she could at least hear it. It's one of her favorite shows, too. I spoke with Brad before I left. He seems to be doing well through this, but I know it's got to be so difficult for him. Besides being at work or attending a rare social event, he's either at the hospital with Sybil, or at home where he is surrounded by memories of her - her clothing, her artifacts, her decor and scent. We agreed taht whatever happens next is up to Sybil. The doctors feel they have done what they can, and we continue to wait and see what happens, but honestly, it isn't looking great at all. Today's news is grim. She has an infection in her blood now and was in septic shock while I was there. Her blood pressure is so slow and this is making any progress impossible. Her lungs aren't looking better (though I do believe they said they were stabilized today) and her graft vs. host disease remains aggressive. While this seems so surreal and painful, all I want is for Sybil to find her happiness. That is all I've ever wanted for her. Whatever form that needs to be in will be okay with me, so long as it is what she wants.

Tomorrow is another day.

monitoring . . . balancing

2005-02-17T23:47:00.000-08:00

I worked this morning, as I usually do on Thursdays, from 7-12 pm. It's so strange and surreal having to deal with the public while I've got so much on my mind. I find it easy to get into "acting mode" so that others don't suspect I am truly upset. Elizabeth and I get goofy and tease one another and laugh at anything. It's fun and takes my mind off the surreality that I am having a difficult time integrating into this part of my life. I felt nauseous for most of the day, and I wonder if this has to do with my attempt at trying not to feel my emotions for a greater part of the day. I bet it is.

After work, I went to the hospital to see Sybil. Her mother, father and brother were there. I've learned to feel concerned when I see them all there like that, especially her father who is obviously missing work to be there. As I walk in, taking notice of his presence, I wonder what news awaits me. Today it isn't so great, not so great at all. Sybil's lungs continue to become increasingly inflamed. She is requiring more oxygen from the machine, and this is not the trend we've been hoping for. Her body is so atrophied, her arms so thin and frail and marked by bruises from the various pokes and pressure spots from the many treatments she's required. She became mildly alert while I was there, but I think it was because her heart rate started racing. It went up to about 185 at one point, and the nurse, Bergen called the doctor in just to be on the safe side. Turns out this is pretty normal considering she'd just come off dialysis. Bergen takes great care of Sybil and they have a special connection. When Sybil was hospitalized in December and coming out of her sedated state, she responded well to just about everything Bergen would say. At one point, Bergen referred to Sybil as looking, "Buddha-esque" which brought a sweet smile to Sybil's face. Bergen has always been upbeat throughout Sybil's struggles. She has come to mean a lot to Sybil, and likewise, Sybil to her. This weekend, I suspect will be intense. I am scared of what it might bring, but I will be there everyday nonetheless.

"MagicWoman" called Sybil's room today (Hi Susan!) and it was so nice to talk with her, someone who I had not met, but who I know means a lot to Sybil. A special connection fostered by this internet realm. It was hard to know what to say on the phone, not wanting to sound pessimistic, or saying too much in the presence of her parents, or worse, in the presence of Sybil. But here, I share just what I know, what I learn during my visits, and what I feel about it.

I feel disconnected from my emotions right now. I have a paper to start writing that is due in the morninng. I procrastinated pretty badly a few quarters ago, so I guess it's just kinda part of me to be this way, but I also suspect I am experiencing difficulty focusing because of my thoughts being with Sybil. I love being in school, but right now, it's just not ranking as so important. Gosh, I am so tired and just want to sleep . . . or be at the hospital. Tomorrow is another day. A busy day (six hours of class, and the hospital visit), but I just have to make it through tomorrow night, and I think I will be okay.

* * * * * H A P P Y 3 7 t h B I R T H D A Y to my brother B I L L who is serving in KIRKUK, IRAQ!!! Please, be safe!! I hope you win the "lottery" soon so you will be chosen to come home for a visit. I am so sorry you have been called to fight in this unjust war that you also don't believe in. Think positive, and know your family loves and misses you tremendously.

knowing?

2005-02-16T18:49:00.001-08:00

Last night, I so bravely attempted to stay awake long enough to see The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, including the rerun episode I missed from the night before. Not surprisingly, I fell aslep right around 11:15, but rather surprisingly, I managed to sleep in until 9:15 or so. Incredible. I actually feel well-rested today, like a normal person. I did some reading for homework while having my coffee at Caffe Ladro, then I had a practice therapy session on campus with Sue Ann. It went well, she is an effective therapist even without a Masters degree.

I went straight from the session to the hospital to see Sybil. Her parents were there and told me the doctors believe her lungs look much worse than they did yesterday. This is not a good sign at all. If they don't see any improvement in the next few days, well . . . why look at it that way? Her father Robert and I got into one of those philosophical discussions Sybil used to tell me about that she'd often had with him. How cool is that, to have so many thought-provoking discussions with your father, to have that connection with a father that so many daughters yearn for? It sometimes distracts me from being present when he is talking because I find myself enjoying the interaction and wishing I'd had that with my father while growing up. And I can see why Sybil has such an inquisitive mind and deep spirit. I am sure she came into her life with great potential, and on top of that, was gifted with parents who fostered and nurtured those innate elements within her.

While Robert and I were talking, her mother Ginny began to cry while standing at Sybil's bedside. I wanted to comfort her, I tried, but I also know there is nothing I can do or say to make the pain go away. I cannot imagine what a parent must feel when standing next to their sick child who is fighting for her life.

So, the next few days will be crucial. Bracing myself.

Welcome to any LJ'ers who found my note at Sybil's LJ.

Time to try to do some homework, although I am finding it nearly impossible to focus on my schoolwork right now. I've got to get to it.

surreality and . . .

2005-02-15T19:40:00.000-08:00

A crazy week it's been. Sybil's health has taken a more serious turn, and I spent quite a few hours in the hospital in the last seven days. It is nice to see her, but heartbreaking to see her in the condition she's in. She is so weak, so weary, and unable to talk due to temporary damage to her vocal chords from the recent intubation. She has developed a case of the flu, and her right lung still has excess fluid in it, causing her some breathing difficulty. For now, we are waiting and seeing how she responds to some medications that should help her lungs. She is also still fighting a pretty mean case of graft vs. host disease. It is so hard to know what to think or how to feel. Of course I am concerned and sad, but I feel as though I should be more upbeat, optimistic and strong for Sybil and her family. It's just so hard. I have discovered that I am not a very secure or trusting person when it comes to believing that things will turn out alright. I am always preparing for the worst, and forgetting that I can expect the best.

Sunday was my 31st birthday. I celebrated Saturday by going out for Thai food with my mom and Bill and Melissa and Jerry. It was very pleasant. The restaurant, Wild Ginger is fabulous and our server was an ultra cute hipster boy. I then met friends for drinks at Cyclops in Belltown. I woke at 4:00 am for work earlier in the morning, and I felt almost like I was coming down with the flu. I was worried while at the bar that I was going to be susceptible to catching something by being so tired, and in a smoky place and drinking. I managed to have just two drinks at the bar, and woke feeling just fine the next morning. But that evening out was quite pleasant. Beno came from Ballard, Kim from class, Elizabeth and Jeremy and Brian and his friend, and Charity and Gavin. A great group of people to be in the company of. It was kind of strange, however to spend my birthday with so many new people. I mean, it was wonderful, but I could not help but miss Sybil's presence, and Marci, who moved to Alaska this past summer. Lindsay said she would come, but I never heard from her again. I suppose this is how we start new phases of life. Moving on and reconnecting. It feels good and scary and sad, all at the same time.

Hans told me Sunday that for a birthday present, he is helping me buy a new car! I don't know if I will get a brand new one, probably not, but maybe a couple years old, something still under warranty. Hans is putting $5,000 toward this endeavor. I can't decide between a Saab or a Honda Hybrid . . . or perhaps a VW, since they have student finance plans. What a doll Hans is. I love him so dearly.

dream states

2005-02-06T14:33:00.000-08:00

Last night's dreams, so strange and sad. One had to do with a customer at work that I am currently experiencing strange energy with. I mean this in a physical attraction sense, but my psychologist's mind can break it down and rationalize it down to where it means nothing. He is much older and is married. In the dream, he said coming in for coffee and seeing me is the highlight of his day. I enjoyed hearing that, but was also confused, knowing he is married. It was slightly troubling, but sweet because it was still innocent. I suspect this strange energy to dissipate eventually, especially because I am able to rationalize it. I mean, I can see why I would feel this toward this person. It's something I am guilty of from time to time. Nevermind. This doesn't need to be written about any further.

The other dream I had was of my brother, Bill who is currently in Kirkuk, Iraq. I dreamt I was talking to him and either he was still in Iraq, or I was in Iraq. Somehow I was in his presence. He was describing a scary scenario - what I thought was scary, although he was saying it in a neutral manner - of an Iraqi fighter person who has been surveilling him and the guys in his troop. If they leave or do something strange, they will be killed. Of course, this was just a dream, but it scared me. I am so worried about his well-being. My mom said last night that he is up for a leave of absence soon and will be coming home, as soon as he is picked in the lottery system they have. Because he is the only son of my father, he is not supposed to be on the front lines, but this does not guarantee safety (that's what I think anyway.) His birthday is the 17th and I am hoping to have a care package assembled sometime this week to send off. That depends on how much time I have between work, school, homework and visiting Sybil in the hospital.

I have seen Sybil everyday this week, but I don't think I will be able to go tonight as I have quite a bit of homework to catch up on. But, it appears she is improving, and they are giving her less sedation, so yesterday she was quite responsive when I was there. She would raise her eyebrows, or attempt to open her eyes. She was able to nod, 'yes' or 'no' when we asked her questions. She kept trying to take the breathing tube out, but couldn't really move her hands, which is good considering what she was attempting. I kept trying to assure her the tube would be removed soon and that she should relax to save her energy. No matter how well she is going now, it is still difficult to see her this way. It is so hard to comprehend how someone my own age can be fighting for her life so desperately. Lately, when I see a gorgeous sunset/rise, taste something delicious, hear a beautiful song, or cuddle with my cats, I tear up thinking of the fact that Sybil is missing out on so much joy. It just doesn't seem fair, even though fairness does not play a part in these things. It's just so sad.

And onto my own health issues, which of course, do not compare to Sybil's in any way, I think I am coming closer to understanding what is going on. I had four blood tests run by a rheumatologist Friday. He said people can test negative for Lupus (SLE) or Rheumatoid Arthritis, as I did, on the initial tests I had but test positive on the tests he gave me, so we will see. Another possibility though surfaced last night when I spoke with my mom. It dawned on her that I could have a rare blood disorder that my cousin has. It's called hemochromatosis. When I googled it and read about the symptoms, I felt as though this is definitely a possibility. I will need to call the clinic tomorrow and see if they would be able to test me for that. My cousin was also diagnosed when she was this age (she is just two or three years older.) So, I do hope this gets figured out so I can at least take care of myself accordingly. If it is hemochromatosis, I will have to have blood drawn every week or something like that because of the excess build up of iron. Anyway, I don't know anything for sure right now, so I will continue to have to be patient (no pun intended.)

I think I will call now to see how Sybil is doing.

Current music:
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds -
Murder Ballads
Let Love In
No More Shall We Part
Kicking Against the Pricks
Live Seeds

a-voi-dance

2005-02-03T17:12:00.000-08:00

Sybil's condition is somewhat stable, although still not so promising. I have been at the hospital everyday this week since Monday and intend to continue going until she is able to leave. Her lungs aren't getting worse, though the rate at which they seem to be recovering may be too slow. I have continued to visit with her parents while I am there. We tend to get caught up in conversation which ultimately serves to distract us from the harsh reality of Sybil's fragile state as we sit just a few feet from her bed. Periodically, her mother gets up to look at Sybil, adjust some lines or pillows, and usually gets teary-eyed. For some reason, I am not caught up in my emotions these days. I am so afraid to be. I am not ready quite yet to go through it all again, not after what happened throughout Decemeber. I suppose I am pacing myself, saving my energy? I don't know.

Last night I went to Elizabeth's right after the hospital. We'd arranged this evening probably a week or so ago. She and I both love games, and pop culture and trivia. She happens to have the Trvivial Pursuit Pop Culture edition, and a game called Scene It. She invited a bunch of other people over as well. We drank beer, played the games and watched Project Runway. It was nice to get my mind off the heaviness of Sybil's condition. I think I did drink too much, though. I had four beers and felt rather queasy this morning, but it eventually wore off. Bad me. Anyway, I think I need to allow myself nights like that more often, when appropriate, of course. I need to avoid my reclusive tendencies and reach out, and lighten up from time to time.

head goes bump in the night

2005-02-01T21:24:00.000-08:00

This morning, I woke around 1:30 or so on the couch and decided to put myself to bed. I headed toward the bathroom first, without turning on any lights. I hate when I turn on lights when I am half awake because they make it harder to fall back to sleep. I held my arms out to guide me toward the bathroom, but I guess they were spaced too far apart as they allowed me to run right into the corner of the doorframe - POW right on the forehead. I screeched and giggled simultaneously. It hurt like a mf, but I had to laugh at how ridiculous it was. As I laid down to fall back to sleep, I realized that it really hurt pretty badly. I did fall back to sleep alright. I woke a little nauseous, but I think that was leftover from the weekend. I've felt a little on the dizzy side all day, too, which could also be related to the hangover incident. I have a bump on my forehead - a very sore bump! But, I think it'll be alright. What a goof.

Went for coffee and reading at the coffee shop, came home and did some laundry, cleaning in my apartment and took a long shower. I made a nice lunch and felt so freaking drowsy after eating! I fell asleep for ten minutes then got up quickly and got ready to go to the hospital to see Sybil. I felt really out of it once I was there, but I still had a nice time visiting with her parents, Ginny and Robert. They are always doing different things. Ginny was knitting while Robert, who works in an office, told me of his plans to start growing and selling garlic. He also just submitted a sci-fi fantasy story to a competition. He is also developing a video game. He is also preparing to start making a drum out of concrete - yes, concrete. Long story. Anyway, I think it's so cool that they have many interests. Ginny also does painting and jewelry work, loves to cook and enjoys a good merlot. They both wish so much that their daughter was well and taking in life the way she was before cancer stole this from her.

As far as they can tell, the doctors believe Sybil's condition has stabilized. She is still in an induced coma, and her lungs seem to be working alright. There was a slight scare tonight when her ECG readings went haywire. Turns out it was a bad connection rather than her.

As I write this, I have quite a bit of homework to complete and other things to do before my busy weekend starts up. I am having a little trouble concentrating, but I think I will be able to finish it. I am hoping Hans will be able to come up soon.

sybil's birthday

2005-01-31T18:39:00.000-08:00

I went to see Sybil in the hospital today. She is intubated (sp?) as she was having trouble breathing on her own starting last night. The docs aren't sure why, but her lungs are filling up with water. They said she has an infection, as well, but that seems to be under control. The next 24 hours will be crucial, however. They say if she does not improve by then, this could be it - IT. To hear this news on her 32nd birthday just doesn't make sense. To have known the light within her, the joy of life she radiated with her warm eyes and contagious laugh, the wisdom she shared through her online journal and poetry writing - to think of this no longer existing is difficult, nearly impossible for me to comprehend.

I sat with her mother for two hours this afternoon who went from smiling sadly to crying while sharing stories about Sybil as well as some humorous stories of her hangovers in the past. Sybil recently taught her how to knit, which she has feverishly taken up as a hobby in the past three months of this rollercoaster ride. She gave me a scarf tonight, a beautiful scarf with reds, pinks, purples and knotted materials. She was worried I wouldn't wear it because it isn't black, but I assured her I most definitely would because I need a little color splash from time to time. I've never heard Ginny speak in a foul manner about anything, but this afternoon in her thick Puerto Rican accent she repeated, "This is a fucking bummer - a fucking bummer." I just nodded in agreement, fighting back my emotions.

Sybil, I wish I could wish you a happy birthday.

jungian weekend?

2005-01-31T13:31:00.000-08:00

As I write this, I am finally feeling 100% after spending yesterday and Saturday recovering from Friday. I went out with my older sister Melissa. We had Thai food and then headed to a bar for drinks. On our way there, an old friend of mine, *P* who I dated years ago in New York and who happens to live a few blocks away from me now, was driving past and stopped us. He said he'd join us at the bar we were going to. Then he asked us to get into the car so we could drive with him by the bar so he'd know where it was. He wanted to go home first to change into some better clothes. He was playing music to show us his cool Mp3 player and he just happened to play Lazy by David Byrne, remixed by Xpress 2 (I think that's their name.) Anyway, it was coincidental because I am obsessed with David Byrne, and to have randomly run into *P* that night and to have him play a Byrne song was just too funny. And, at the moment he first saw us on the street, I was just about to tell my sister something about Carl Jung, who proposed the idea of synchronicity . . . so things were strangely in alignment that night! Anyway, we had fun at that bar (The Sitting Room) where I had two martinis, and then we went to Mirbeau where I had one, maybe two more martinis. Before I knew it, I was completely smashed. *P* was convinced someone slipped me a drug cause he'd never seen someone so messed up. Ugh. I think it was just that I had way too much to drink, not enough to eat all day, and not enough sleep. So, I'd really worn myself out and abused my body. I had to pay for it by missing work the next day, and feeling ashamed and embarrassed, as well as feeling queasy all day and night, as well as most of yesterday. Ugh! I finally had a bit of an appetite last night when *P* took me out to dinner. Even today, I haven't had much of an appetite, but at least I am able to eat. Anyway, I left out a lot of details, but that's alright. I don't think anyone is going to read this but me, so I don't care.

Today is Sybil's 32nd birthday. Just over a month ago her family was planning her funeral when the doctors said there was no way she could pull through with her liver not functioning. Well, she did it, and she's here to celebrate another birthday! I am hoping the plans for her birthday dinner are still on for tonight though because she left me a message Thursday saying she would be in the hospital over the weekend so the doctors could monitor her graft (sp?) vs. host disease. This isn't uncommon for people who've undergone a stem cell transplant, but they do need to make sure it doesn't get out of hand. I am sure she'll be alright, she's a fighter! She's had three rounds of chemo and two stem cell transplants, a little g v. h isn't gonna do much to her now, is it?

Well, I do need to head out so I can get her a little gift. I am looking forward to writing again as it does seem to help me organize my thoughts. I tend to go back and forth between writing in my paper journal and this online thing. Either way, I like it.

politics, music and clothing

2005-01-26T17:34:00.000-08:00

Today has been pretty relaxing, not a whole lot going on. I went to Starbucks, not for coffee for myself, but seeking donations for my brother Bill, who is stationed in Kirkuk. My mom sent him some for Christmas, but it's run out. He said it really boosted the morale of him and 'the guys' when they had it, and he's hoping to get more. I called Starbucks and learned that they cannot donate to individuals as they've got mass donation stuff going on. But, the person on the phone suggested I ask "partners" (Starbucks employees) if they would like to donate their free weekly pound. So, I left a note asking if anyone would like to do this. I hope some comes through. His birthday is coming up in under four weeks and I want to send a care package. I burned some cds for him today to include in the package - Talking Heads (Stop Making Sense); Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (Best of); Modest Mouse (The Moon and Antarctica and some tracks from Good News For People Who Love Bad News); Johnny Cash (a full cd of mixed stuff); Willie Nelson (greatest hits); and The Police (Best of). I think he'll like these.

I still can't believe he's actually there. Over the past few years, we haven't been really all that close, but it's interesting what war can do to a family. I am so concerned for his well-being. Although I like to stay optimistic that he will return, even that return will undeniably bring trials. He will likely be a very changed person, likely having witnessed murder, death, desperation. I worry he won't be able to handle it. I just want this whole stupid war STOPPED and our soldiers brought home! Bill does not support the war, and does not like or trust Bush one ounce. Neither do I, never have, even before this war started. I am still dumfounded by his re-election! It's scary to think of what else he can get away with in four years. How can he sleep at night? How can he consciously do the things he does and not feel a morsel of remorse, sadness, sorrow? Is he human? I think not.

I have successfully enjoyed my two full days off this week. Today and yesterday I did not have class or work! I had my own schedule, caught up on sleep and emails and lazy time and I feel ready for the busy weekend ahead. I feel ready for anything - well, almost anything.

Today I wore a light blue sweater, black jeans and reddish/maroon sneakers (that I bought yesterday.) I am trying to get used to wearing more than one or two colors. Usually I wear just black or black with another color (usually grey or red.) Anyway, it was fun, and I am proud of myself! Now I need to gear up for getting back into my workout - the gym work out and pilates at home. Need to really take care of myself. Speaking of which, I will be making an appointment hopefully tomorrow for the rheumatologist, and hopefully I will figure out what's going on.

I am going to watch American Idol tonight. I am a goof!

Time For Dad

2005-01-25T21:23:00.000-08:00

As I was reading today, I came up with an idea that is actually the culmination of some other random ideas that have been swirling in my head for a few weeks now. Those ideas are centered on my feeling that it is time that I spend a little time with my father. There has been a bit of discomfort around this for years (for me) because of our past, or lack thereof. He and my mom divorced when I was really young (8?) -- they separated long before that. I have few memories of him being around or being available. My older siblings have more memories and they feel some connection to him that I have no memory of experiencing. As I've grown older, I've seen him in a light that isn't so pretty. I think of the many hard years my mother endured providing for his (5!) children, holding 2 to 3 jobs at once to pay the bills and care for us. My father was so reluctant in any support, financial or emotional. He had the choice, though, whereas my mother did not see it that way for herself. She kept on keeping on, working so hard, sacrificing her own sanity at times, and sacrificing the the many opportunities most parents take for granted to be nurturing, at ease, motherly to her children. Instead, she often found herself stretched to her limits, stressed to the max, and when I look back, angry at the men in her life who let her down so. I see it still in her face, her posture, her present way of living. When I see my father, I see a man who never dared sacrifice his comfortable way of living to make it easier on the mother of his children, or on his children for that matter. He has never offered to help me through college, never asked me if I needed assistance with anything. He sends $100 once or twice a year (x-mas and b-days), but nothing more. When he calls, it's hard to speak to him because we are so different, and even if we were similar, we wouldn't know it because we don't know each other so well. Beyond this, I've carried some anger towards him for not stepping up and being a father or ex-husband. For always having what he needs in life, and more while his children struggled to find their ways in the world. For living so far away - in Louisiana - for so long and not visiting more often. For awhile now, I've held an array of emotions for him, ranging from anger to apathy. In the past few weeks, though, I've felt a nagging sense of urgency to spend some time with him. As a graduate student in psychology, I cannot deny any longer that there is some work to do around this, and obviously so much to say to him, hear from him, and to learn about him and myself in regards to our relationship. He has offered in the past to fly me out to visit him. I've always declined (well, not in a direct manner, but I've never gone) mainly because of the discomfort I feel about our relationship as well as his wife who I see mainly as a ditsy pot-head, who might actually be warm-hearted. I have a three week spring break in March. In the past, I've gone to Virginia to my sister Deana and her kids. I called her this morning and proposed a plan. I am thinking it would be nice to fly to VA, spend time at their house for a few days, and then she and the kids and I could fly to LA to see our dad for a few days. She is totally interested in this plan and we're starting to look into flight options, etc. I think my dad would be tickled to hear of this plan, (and he'd better offer to pay for the ticket for me to fly from VA to LA!) I am sort of nervous about what will surface should I bring up some meaty stuff we've never discussed, but I will be 31 in three weeks - I need to ask important questions, I need to sort this stuff out so I can move on and incorporate these experiences into my total being. I think it can only help make me a better therapist, as well.

So, this is the plan so far. Now I am going to have to tell Hans who had been hoping we'd be able to see each other over spring break. I am sure he will understand. Having a long-distance relationship should not impose on other important relationships. This is one thing I've finally come to realize over the past three years. If the plan to go out east falls through, though, of course I will see Hans! There is a possibility he will be in Hawaii for a scout, and he said he'd fly me out there, which will be great because I so badly want to see the volcanoes!

waking up, eyes opening

2005-01-25T15:33:00.000-08:00

Sleep is something I have trouble making time for sometimes. About once a week or so, if I am lucky, I allow myself to sleep about 8-10 hours, which usually helps me catch up on my sleep debt. It feels good, but tends to leave me feeling kinda strange. I stayed up really late last night because I wanted to see the Pixies on Letterman, but I managed to conk out during the commerical break just before their performance. I woke on the couch shortly after and put myself to bed. I woke again around 7:30 but turned on NPR which is great for soothing me back into slumber. I woke at 9:30 feeling quite groovy.

I went for coffee and brought some reading homework. It is a chapter on Jungian theory. On Friday I will need to apply it in a practice therapy session with a classmate. I love that this quarter is actually quite light on the reading and heavier on experience and process. This is more my learning style. I am feeling kinda relaxed for once (as a student) and I think this will aid in my absorption of the material. At least, that's a theory I have.

I went shopping for clothes this afternoon. I shouldn't really be spending so much money, but lately I've really hating trying to get dressed in the morning as all my clothes annoy me. I keep fluctuating in style preference, like on a continuum of fashion and self-expression (each on opposing ends, mind you!) For years, I've worn just a lot of black, not necessarily in the current style, but in what others called a timeless, or classic way. These days, I am trying to incorporate more color, soft colors - and texture, soft, fluffy, thin layers. I am also more drawn to vintage styles, pretty yet sexyish. Anyway, I managed to get a few things along these lines this afternoon, but also had to get some more casual type stuff to wear to work on those days when I can't spend more than two minutes thinking about what to wear- just put it on. Anyway, I also got some cute 9 West athletic type shoes. They were about $15 used, yet they're brand new looking, and I like that they're slender, not bulky. I know this has got to be so interesting to read.

There goes Alpha walking past my window with Clayton. She lives next door. We lived in the same building until I moved next door. We worked at the same coffee shop until she quit to bartend at Linda's. She and Clayton just got engaged. I am so happy to hear of these things, really, but I need to pay attention to the nagging sense I get when I do hear of them. Part of me years for that, that couple-dom - then a part of me absolutely dreads it, I mean DREADS it. Does that little part of me yearn for it because it's socially ingrained in me to want that? Somewhere deep inside, I think a part of me is damn curious to know if any man would actually love me enough to want to spend the rest of his life with me. I am quite curious, actually. But I am more afraid to consider the possibility that this isn't going to happen. Will I morph into a "quirky-alone" type? Do I frighten people away, and if so, do I do it on purpose, or unintentionally?

Time for a shower.

I do wish I could figure out how to upload pics to this darned thing.

Alright . . .

2005-01-24T19:15:00.000-08:00

So, I am making an entry. The first thing I've noticed about this site is that it is quite slow. Anyone else have this experience? Is it always slow, or is this a busy time of night to be logged in? Anyway, I just found this site through my great friend, Marci who has a blog here http://samandella.blogspot.com/ to share daily events of her life in Alaska with her two beautiful children, Sam and Ella, and their daddy, Brent. I've known Marci since 1988, when we were freshmen at South Whidbey High School on Whidbey Island, Washington. That's a long time! She and Brent and the kids moved to Alaska last summer to see what it would be like. So far, it seems they are enjoying it. I so badly want to visit in the summer. It would be so nice to see where they live and what their daily life is like, as well as to take in the breathtaking scenery Sitka has to offer.

Right now, I should be doing homework, but I am procrastinating a little. I have been going on an average of about 4-6 hours of sleep for about a week now, and it's not as easy to do as it was, say four or so years ago, so I've been pretty wiped out. I managed to take a two 1/2 hours nap this afternoon, which gave me some energy, but naps always leave me a little groggy and out of sorts.

I spent quite a bit of time with my cancer-free friend Sybil this past weekend. Sybil was diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma in May 2002. Because she was diagnosed in stage four, she has had to endure a fierce battle with an aggressive disease that is actually usually quite treatable in younger patients. She has undergone three rounds of chemo and in November 2004, she had her second, yes second, stem cell transplant. Following the transplant, she fought infections and other complications and came close to dying in mid-December. Her doctors said she had a 1% chance of surviving and that only a miracle would bring her back. Well, just after they said this, Sybil showed signs of stabilization and then improvement! Her doctor who never uses the word "miracle" had to use it to explain her turn-around. Just a week after arrangements were being made for her funeral, the focus then became on rehabilitation so that she could be discharged from the hospital. Well, she was sent home nearly 2 weeks ago and is doing very well. She remains quite weak, but optimisitic and so thankful to be alive! We spent time talking Saturday night and I also saw her yesterday. It was nice to hear her laugh again. She's got a great laugh, and it had been months (at least two) since I'd heard it! Next Monday, she will be 32 and it will so beautiful to celebrate this new year with her. Just before she was discharged from the hospital, she suggested to her boyfriend of seven years that they get married. Without hesitiation, he of course said yes. They are planning the ceremony for this summer, and I will be one of three bridemaids.

There's a lot to share, but I will save it for later.

I am feeling like I am in a positive, normal mood. This isn't always the case, so to forewarn you, my posts in the future, should I remember to post in the future, may be a little on the wacky side. :)

Current music: David Byrne - Catherine Wheel