Tag Archives: joy

Update, God is Good!

My friend with cancer’s tumor has shrunk.

It’s wonderful news.

She keeps saying that my prayers are the reason for it.

I have no idea what God is up to and how much he’s working through me, but I’ll take it.

Thank you for your prayers too.

 

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Putting things in Perspective

Life is good.

I’m working on the developing meaningful friendships with people of the opposite sex, and everyone really, and not being so obsessive.

I’m working really slowly, but I’m working on it.

I’m kind of critical of myself and paranoid about what others think of me sometimes. I think that a lot of what they do or don’t do is directly related to some fault of mine. I should stop thinking that way. It’s not healthy, because I can really only control myself and I probably have very little negative influence on these people, if any at all, and if it is there, then it’s probably nothing I can control.

But I tend to think I can control it, and want to control it, because I want to be accepted and approved of.

I don’t know why.

Maybe it’s because I feel so dependent upon others and so unable to really take care of myself, like without people I would be very badly off, and so I want them to approve of me and like me so that I feel safe and secure, because I don’t trust me to take care of me.

And I don’t trust me to take care of me because physically my body still can’t handle as much as a “healthy” person (or so I think), and mentally I’m afraid of something breaking or going wrong and being completely dependent upon others again, especially because the need for neurosurgery came out of nowhere, the neck breaking happened just as I was getting better, and I’m still not confident I’m completely recovered / I expect something else to go wrong.

But nothing should go wrong.

But something could go wrong.

So I obsess about finding people to support and take care of me as insurance against the possibility that I will be helpless and alone.

But life is going good…because…I’m finding people I think I can depend on? People who tell me to stop thinking so negatively. People who give me a slightly more positive outlook, not only in the realm of having people to depend on, but in the realm of actually being able to take care of myself at some point, and that everything will be okay.

Life is good because there are people in my life reminding me that it can be good. Reminding me that I should have a little faith, I can have a little faith.

That it will be okay.

That I’ll get through it, and I won’t be alone, and that I will be able to take care of myself.

Then again I could be struck by lightening tomorrow. That’d be bad…But that’d also be incredibly unlikely, as most of the negative things I dwell on probably are, so I should focus again on trusting in God and trusting in him working through me.

And that is how my mind works, think of something small, go to the extreme of blowing it out of proportion, go back to seeing it in the correct view, calm down.

It will be okay, and it is okay.

Peace and love to you.

 

 

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What I want.

Can you please love me?

After so many years of blog posts and poems and songs and conversations, I figured out what it is I really want:

I want you to look at me, sit with me, listen to me, talk to me, hear me, and tell me that

it’s okay, you love me, you’re there for me, and you understand.

I want to know that no matter what I’m going through or what problem I’m dealing with, you’ll be there with me.

You won’t ever give up.

Won’t ever walk away. Won’t get worn out and tired of me because I’m depressing to be around.

Won’t do to me what I’ve done to so many people, won’t reach your limit of my problems and throw me away, because I’m not worth it.

Because the good isn’t worth the bad.

I just want you to love me. Unconditionally…so that I can stop locking it all up. So that I can stop holding it all in. So that I can stop only being the part of me that I think you can handle, one sliver of me at a time.

I just want to be fully me. Fully miserable when I’m miserable, fully happy when I’m happy.

Accept all my sorrow so that I know you’ll accept all my joy.

I don’t even know if I think it’s possible.

I …don’t think it’s possible for someone to love me in that way.

All my life has been a series of lessons teaching me that the only one who can really complete me is God, and that no one can be for me like he is.

And so I don’t see how you could possibly love me and accept me fully, because I don’t know if I would even love and accept me fully.

I don’t even know if someone exists who would love and accept every part of me and tell me that they’re never giving up on me.

I don’t know if it’s too much to ask of someone.

To just choose you, and stick by you, no matter what you go through…

That’s what I want…because it hurts so much when they give up.

And if the only one who can do that is God, then I don’t know…I don’t know what I’d want to even try to be with you for.

Because why attempt at joy when I know you can never fully give it. Why attempt at love when I know yours is only a shallow imitation. Is the shallow imitation enough?

I don’t know.

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Amen

I cry

and He puts the people that I need in my life

to wipe away my tears.

I laugh

because there are people in my life

through all the years.

He loves me through every one of them, and I love back and try to be like Him.

Praise the Lord.

Amen.

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Smoothing out the roller coaster thoughts because God is good.

I feel like my blog just kinda is. Like, I’ll randomly post a poem, and then I’ll throwback to some draft I never published, and then I’ll update you on current events in my life, and it’s a bit like a roller coaster. It lacks the cohesiveness that it once kinda sorta had, like where I was panicked about recovering from surgery and college, and then panicked about non-existent relationships, and then panicked about grad school, and then panicked about non-existent relationships. I suppose I may be over-estimating its former cohesiveness.

At any rate, I’m here, updating this lovely blog with a current post and not just dusting off an old draft, because I feel like I should do that every couple of days. It’s possible that I post too frequently, but between gradschool and not hanging out with the friends I wish I had, I have a lot of free time. The time isn’t exactly free, but my options are like, a. do piles of homework, b. sobbingly munch on comfort foods, c. watch netflix, d. scroll my facebook newsfeed and hope that someone will talk to me, or e. write a blog post. With those options I tend to choose the blog post, because then at least I have the excuse of being reflective while I don’t get anything super useful done.

So yeah, reflective time… Last year around now I was sobbing every other day because grad school overwhelmed me by adding homework and class to what I had to do with my time, and I was really sad about my lack of freedom. I also didn’t have a license and my few friendships were with guys I had crushes on who did not feel the same way about me. My physical therapy was still pretty pathetic, my body hurt more than it did now, and overall I think I was probably depressed.

This school year so far I have only really sobbed once. It was three hours before my very first class for the semester, and I was questioning God and breaking down, wondering why life was so miserable. Then I went to class and our professor gave a twenty-minute inspiring speech about how she got to where she was today and the tears she shed and the suffering she went through and how it was all worth it…I took that as a sign, and now I just keep seeing the positives of my situation and the negatives aren’t too much to bear.

I also now have a license, and with that I have spent more time developing my friendships with people who aren’t guys that I have unrequited crushes on, and while I am still often lonely, I have at least one female friend who can’t wait to hang out with me every week. Plus, a year of school has developed my friendships with people further, and I have support and people I can talk to about school, at least, and school friends who go to the gym with me, furthering my physical healing.

After a year of pulling through and venting and crying and questioning, I still don’t know exactly what I’m doing with my future. I don’t know if I really want to be a teacher, or if I’m dashing my dreams of music entirely…but I do know that while I’ve been suffering and pathetically responding to my situation, by actually trying at this teaching thing I’ve managed to improve my life in just about every way in the last two years.

I thought I was going downhill, but apparently I’m still going up.

…and while I just spent the last hour not doing homework I definitely think it wasn’t wasted.

Thank you for being there on this journey.

I’ll probably break down again in a couple of weeks, or like, right before my big project is due tomorrow evening, but in the mean time I’m just gonna try to appreciate the beauty of the life God has giving me and how everything is working out, even if it’s not as expected, or even if it’s not in the time I want it to.

Also, you can look forward to more roller coaster blasts from the past, because I have like, 30 other drafts from last year that I haven’t posted.

-cdukulele

(P.S. The Pope is in America and I’m Catholic. Life rocks. Like the rock of the Church. Peter. The first Pope. OH YEAH.)

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2 year anniversary

This writing thing has lasted longer than my longest relationship with a male.

What’s our definition of relationship though, because technically, if we want to get REAL technical, I’ve only been in one official relationship with a male and it didn’t survive longer than the life of a Gastrotrichs. (If I were a gastrotrich, it would have taken up my entire lifetime. It would have been a bit of a sad lifetime though. I kinda chase after things until they find me and then I don’t know what to do with them. Like puppies and cars as referred to by crazy people in that Batman film. Yep, this is the way I think.)

However, if we are gonna talk about like, friendships, or talking to guys online or on the phone who totally tried to get me to fall in love with them, but didn’t actually succeed, then we could be saying at least a couple months. I mean, months for the attempts at romance, and then years for the friendships. I’d say my oldest guy friendship would be around 21 years. And the oldest one that wasn’t instituted by my parents and still lasts to this day, in that we like each other’s posts and whatnot on facebook, then at least six years. I can’t say much for before then, because my high school was solely populated by females, and the friends of my grade school years have mostly forgotten that I’ve existed. Or I’ve forgotten that they’ve existed. It’s a mutual forgetfulness.

At any rate, my blog is here, and has been here for two years.

I started with sharing about the agonizing pain of isolation and recovering from a surgery that further isolated me, and now I’m sharing about…all the other pain in my life. And joy. And everything. Except I really mostly need the outlet for the pain, because that way I don’t have to burden my Mom with it, or the people around me, and I can turn it into art that I won’t get judged for.

Does this make sense?

Is it healthy?

I wonder.

It’s been two years in the running and since it’s started I’ve gotten a driver’s license, got practically straight A’s in my first year of gradschool, and crushed on a whole bunch of guys who did not either reciprocate the feelings, or reciprocate appropriately, and this blog and I have survived it all. That seems like a good thing to me.

Thank you for being there with us.

And at some point I’ll post that post I was supposed to post where someone nominated me for the Versatile blogger award. Maybe that would be something good to do as I enter into my third year of writing…

Goodnight readers, and thank you for reading.

-cdukulele

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Tears, teaching, and miraculous intervention.

If you’re a grad student like me, today might have been the start of the semester for you. Of course a grad student like me would be one who starts school after labor day because their school plans things like that, and then doesn’t have her first class until Tuesday night.
Also, if you’re really like me, which I hope you’re not, you were sobbing three hours before class started and then composing a really depressing blog post because you are somewhat of a wreck mentally and while looking for God to point out signs to help guide your life on a  non-disastrous path, you got blinded by burden of suffering.
That post didn’t get published, but this one will, because this one gives a fuller picture of the situation, and this one will make me happy.

So, after crying I went to class, lost and confused, questioning my future and whether I wanted to be a teacher at all, and then several things happened that kind of turned things around.
To start, my teacher explained to us all that she was super nervous, and that she is always terrified on the first day of any class, and at certain moments in her teaching career, she would rather be anything but a teacher. However, at other moments there is nothing she would rather be doing, and teaching is the best thing in the world, and if one asked her during the moments whether she would live her life differently, she would do teaching all over again.
After this short statement, our teacher went into greater depth and began to explain her humble beginnings as an English tutor in her home country. She furthermore explained that her situation was so overwhelming at first that she wound up crying most nights after she finished tutoring kids, and questioning whether it was even worth it and why she was doing it. Ultimately, she moved on to actually teaching English classes, and now she realizes how valuable those tutoring years were in preparing her for now, and how much joy teaching brings her in general, and how even when we think there isn’t a plan for us, there is, and life is amazing.

That was pretty much the summary of her start to class, which was pretty much exactly what I, the person crying three hours before class about what I was doing in my life and whether teaching was worth it or God even wanted me to be happy or if that was part of the plan, needed to hear.

Following that, she went over the syllabus. When I had first looked at the syllabus at home in my room by myself, all I saw were scores of assignments that looked impossible to do and made me feel like life was a compilation of suffering. When we looked at the syllabus in class, miraculously, I had a strange feeling of calmness and hope, and it looked like the assignments were really just alterations of what I had done in previous classes. I thought to myself “As long as I get stuff done early I think I can handle this.” In an effort to plan ahead, I started thinking about what presentation I wanted to do, and realized that earlier would be best, and I looked at the topics and thought I would definitely want to do one of the first three. Then there was an icebreaker and class ended.
After this I had my final class, in which I discovered I was actually interested in the topic we would be studying, because we were learning about what makes learning a second language easier or more difficult as one ages, and I definitely want to and am weakly trying to learn a second language. So learning about those things was actually strangely helpful.
After class ended one of my classmates from the first class walked up to me and did three things, 1. Asked me to be her partner for the group presentations, 2. Said she wanted to get the project done early because she didn’t want to have a lot to do at the end of the semester 3. And said the words that had pretty much exactly been in my head and namely, that one of the first three topics would be good.
I responded positively to all of these things, and then kinda stood amazed that she had somehow read my mind without reading it at all.

That was my first day of gradschool. Just a few hours before class I was a wreck and questioning my life choices and needing affirmation and strength and support to help me get through it, and I broke down in tears in front of my mom who then prayed with me and for me, and then I went to class and everything just seemed to work.

This is my life, I don’t always understand it, and I get flippin frustrated sometimes, but somehow God eases the burdens and makes things doable.

Thank you God.

-Catherine

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