Thankful

To find yourself being a damaged person, knowing it for sure, could be one of those things which made your body fall to the floor, or it can be a reason for you to continue standing and fight for yourself.

I will set fire to water with my own hands and leave traces of my soul, chipped and cracked, everywhere I go. I'll be the cold sensation of touching a granite tombstone on a hot summer day and I'll sit below the charred branches of a thin, tall tree and smoke a cigarette.

All because you never burned.
You never burned.

They say it's possible to recover from a trauma. I know you can from a physical trauma: I've seen it, but the other kind... the trauma that causes you to have nightmares and sensory memories which throw you so far from progress it makes you sick... I don't know about that. And I don't know if any of us will ever be alright again. But maybe for what this is, a life most would never imagine, being not only in the crazy, but being the crazy, you never are alright.

My favorite board on my Pintrest account is called, "Before you even get here," and it's images for my children. Not just my own children, but for my patients, too. And I don't know why I understand children or want to save them, but they give me reason... they are my reason for this fight.

Pediatric Advanced Life Support: next certification. Working on it now.

Fresh

Wake up today and I DO feel like P. Diddy if that's as glamorous and positive of a feeling as Ke$ha attributes to the idea.

Got some test results back and they are pretty screwed up, just like the other ones.

But whatever I'm going to try to be positive.

French Toast with a Suicide.

I woke up and had the most somber, yet validating conversation with my mother this morning. Both of us are broken and, now, we're madly grabbing at all the pieces scattered across the invisible floor, in a heart-pounding, frenzied attempt to put ourselves back together. Or at least create someone close to who we used to be.

But every time we try, in our own irrational and violent ways, to fix ourselves up, we fail. Because we're never going to be as happy as we once were. Our lives will always be partially destroyed by the actions of people we can't stop loving. Neither of us will ever fully recover from the damage which has been inflicted upon us. And no methods of coping with this pain are capable of erasing our dark cloud.

I'd like to say, or at least blame this problem, on the fact that Mom and I love people - sometimes to a fault - and never stop caring. We'd never leave a person behind or betray anyone on purpose. And those same terms of love and loyalty are not commonly returned to us. The lyric, "I believe that my life's gonna see
The love I give, Return to me," from John Mayer's Wheel describes the sentiment I'm trying express. Because it's what we really think, and we keep thinking it, over and over, always dumbly surprised every time we're let down...again. The most disappointing part maybe is that the people who leave us, carelessly disregard the situation and move on, unaffected.


So, now we're trying to be happy people. And we still laugh and act a fool, but we want the intense joy we found in everyday living to return, even if it's a little bit different now or takes a little more effort to achieve, we still need it.

The sun will shine through the canopy of the trees, the light making strange patterns as it nestles between the leaves, but once that sun shines through, and it's warm and glowing just like it's supposed to, just like it has since time began, we'll be as close to being okay as we can get. And that's pretty good.

Funny, when you're dead how people start listenin'...

It's strange how we're all planning our weddings when we're just going to end up dead, anyway. Our photos lost, our satin, white gowns yellowed by time, the event of our lives as ghostly as our figures on the walls of our childhood homes at night...

I always wonder what it would be like if I died. And being a person who is sick, it's not a hard thing to ponder. Would everyone from town pack Riley's Funeral Home and tell stories of me from years past? Would it be like every other Carrollton funeral? Or would Jennifer Duke insist my casket lie atop a Bellevue-Dayton fire engine, draped in a flag, as my brethren, in their Class-As and Dress Blues walk aside me to my final resting place, as a bell rang to declare I was home? Would Mark Seeger be the first face to greet me in Heaven? Would my dedication to service and the American Victim be what people remembered most? Would Jim say that no one else cared more about their patients than me? Would Ronnie cry with Tara, remembering me bouncing around the office?

People would say I hadn't lived, yet, but it's not true. I have loved, been loved, and found innocence in a baby's eyes, which I cared for, half way across the world. I cared for my Mamaw. I've written pieces which have made not only those who read them cry, but made me cry myself. I have felt passion. I have seen hate. I have been witness to disease and death, but also to pure joy and happiness which seemed surreal. I am a twenty-two year old young woman with a legacy. I am not afraid, as I've had just enough time to see God is real and life is not useless.

My father would struggle the most because he struggles the least with me, now. And I can see him cry. I remember the two times I've seen him cry, all for death, and it was for my Grandmother, Audrey, and his brother, Mark Seeger, as he clutched Seeger's helmet to his chest at his burial. But aside from that, Father would cry for me, because I am his daughter, and because he wanted to see me become the woman I always said I would be: the woman who could save the world.

My mother should know I am at rest, should I pass. So should Eric and Bryan. There will be an answer: let it be.



I am with the innocent ones; my babies, all of the time. No one may be trying to find me and heal my wounds, but I will always seek your pure heart and your aching body, in an effort to give each and every child peace. For those of you I will not be able to save, rest in comfort that though I am with you, I love you. I'm with you.


---


Eric made me see that love was possible, again. He showed me I would be ok if I loved him, because he wouldn't hurt me. Our wedding is going to be funny, because humor comes natural to our relationship, but also one which moves you to tears; you won't ever have seen such a solid, brilliant couple whose love shines as bright as the ours. And saying that doesn't make me feel foolish- it makes me feel solid.








And in case you're wondering, I don't plan on dying anytime soon.

Being sick isn't an excuse to lie down and give up on the time we've been given.

Tennessee: Busts and Bugs

Alright so, Todd Co. Ky is just about ten minuted from my house, which means I can practice as an EMT there, which means awesome. Their director is trying to get a job at HSC (where Daddy works) and I want a job at his station, so tit for tat?

I can't practice in Tennessee, yet because I need my 40 hour IV class and they don't start again until August! Ick! I can do it, already, but gotta be legal and all...

More later

"...And Angels."

I am such an addict for anything pop culture.

Glee.
The Royal Wedding.
Hell, even Bin Laden's death is pop, although nobody cared, "who," he was wearing at the time of his death. Though, I'd be willing to bet it wasn't something from McQueen's fashion house, as was Kate's regal smock.

Life lesson: Mary Queen of Scots wore Scarlett, the color of martyrdom, to her death, and never seemed sorry for it- even after it took two tries for the executioner to remove her head.

What a scandal.