Life Goals

I’ve been doing some soul searching and big decision making. The easiest way to share this is to copy/paste a couple of Facebook posts that are about a week and a half apart.

First, some background. Sammy was playing outside barefoot and stepped on something that cut her foot open right between her toes. The cut was superficial, but with where it was located, there was a lot of blood. More than a band aid could handle so the next best bet was a lot of gauze and some tape. Only, I didn’t have any tape and only had just enough gauze. Anyway, I made do with what I had, and then started the quest of building a proper first aid kit. I had a lot of input from a lot of people as to what should go into it, and actually built two: one for the car and one for the house. I could have called it done, but the process ignited something in me. Something that realized I needed to learn how to properly use some of the things I had.

“I want to take an EMT course. I don’t want to be an EMT but I want the EMT certificate so I’m prepared for anything my kids throw at me. It’d also mean I could be a street medic at things like Pride. Finally it’d look really good on my resumé and grad school apps. The single class I need for the official certificate is 1120$ for the 7 credit hour class, plus there is a test which probably costs a few hundred. If I throw a tax return at this, this is doable. By this time 2021 I could be a fully certified EMT. (Which isn’t the same as a paramedic. Though this is the first step if I wanted to go further. I don’t.)”

I lived with that dream for about 9 days. 9 days full of soul searching.

“Wanna hear my new life plan?

So the old plan was masters then doctorate then diagnosing especially women with ADHD and autism because the system is failing them. But. I’m old, tired, neurodivergent, and in over 60k worth of debt just from the first degree. Plus the system is realizing they are failing women and it’s no longer an, “if I don’t do it no one will,” situation. By the time I get my doctorate, I’ll be late to the game. Am I capable of getting my doctorate? Yes. But at what cost? Plus to get accommodations I’d need to be officially diagnosed. And well, that affects my ability to work in the field.

Anyway.

I really want to get this EMT certificate. I really want this. So I was thinking. What if I got it like planned next summer, and then contact the official PRIDE scene in Columbus and ask them if they have a use for me? If it’s just a voluntary position, I work some 9-5 and volunteer on the side. If they have a paid position, they become my 9-5 or whatever. My 9-5 can stay whatever I find next for the coming year. Or maybe I get the cert and work EMS elsewhere but not for the city. I don’t want to be a paramedic or city-based EMT. But I could work at like the zoo or something, for all I care. If I need a day job that’s not the pride scene I can do even a random office job. Then volunteer with the pride scene.

Robin is supportive as long as I’m getting a paycheck from someone. Though she is concerned I need to work on my upper body strength. I’m surprisingly strong, but I welcome the excuse to join the community center gym and lift. Also, building upper body strength will help with back pain and breast support. But I want to be buff. Just super jacked. Men fear me. Women loving women flock to me. The lesbian dream!”

Anyway, no matter what I need to find at least a temp job for the coming year or more. No matter what, I want to get my EMT certification. And I really like the idea of using that certification to help the PRIDE scene here locally. Even if that isn’t my actual career, it can still be my passion project.

Crocheting

When I was much younger, about 8 years old, my grandmother, who could crochet anything, started teaching me the craft.  But as we were short on time, we didn’t get any further than the beginning chain.  The plan became for me to spend a couple of weeks with her that summer, and she would have me taught the rest of the way in no time at all.

She died that spring.

So here I was 25 years later, unable to crochet more than the beginning chain.  That is until I met my friend Savi, who can, just like my grandma, crochet just about anything.  Now Savi isn’t local but she worked as a catalyst towards me wanting to master this skill once and for all.  So I asked her for her advice on what YouTube videos might be the best to teach me.  She sent me this link.  With my tax return I bought a bunch of yarn, a set of crochet hooks, and a couple of beginners pattern books and away I stumbled.

As we speak I’m taking a break from a Barbie blanket I’m working on.  Nothing too exciting.  It’s solid white, and isn’t following a pattern.  It was a means of me remastering a chain, and learning the first stitch.  My next project will be a second Barbie blanket where I master the second stitch.  And so on.  It’s good practice.

My stitch work is uneven and I have a lot to learn.  However, I’m getting there and I’m determined.  I will do this.  So help me.

Besides, it is calming.  I mean not now.  Right now it’s frustrating.  But once I have my stitch down and I’m comfortable with what I’m doing, it’ll be calming.  I know this as fact.  It’s a great tool for the depressed and anxious.  So I’m learning and mastering.

Travel

I don’t know why but of all the places in the world, I want to visit Greenland and Iceland the most.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to travel Europe and visit all the museums and historically significant places.  It’s a dream.  But if I were to only leave the USA once, I’d want to go to Iceland and Greenland.  They just to me seem to be the most beautiful places in the world.  Plus, they aren’t exactly tourist hot spots so it wouldn’t be so… crowded.

I don’t know.  I really don’t know what it is.

I bet there is a cruise that goes through the region and will stop at different ports of interest.  Or, I’d just take a flight and stay at different motels as I explored each country.  I’d need a few weeks to do it.  Maybe when my kids are grown and I’m done with my schooling I can reward myself with spending a summer doing just that.  I don’t know.

But…

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Something Blue

Borderline Personality Disorder BPDSee it’s like this.  I dyed my hair black all through high school, but I always wanted to do at least my tips or roots or something (anything!) a funky color.  My mom said no and wouldn’t budge.  Once I became an adult I was working one job after another and funky hair just wasn’t an option.  You’d think that somewhere in time I’d have grown out of it.  But right now I’m in a spot in my life where I have no one to report to outside of my family, and I could use a little funky in my life.  Even my mom says it makes sense.  Not that I asked permission, but I did warn her.  Oh, she has loosened up some in the decade plus since I graduated high school so it would have been cool.  But as I said, I wasn’t looking for permission.  Just validation.  Which I got.  And I’m going with turquoise.

So I’m Attempting This: Fibromyalgia and Exercising Through the Burn

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Click the image to go to the site it came from.

I’m not going to lie, I’m currently hating it. Right now my upper arms burn so bad.

But you know what?  For once?  It’s a hurt that I earned; in the same way that like challenging myself with kayaking and rock wall climbing.  I live almost every day in pain.  Granted, it’s a different kind of pain, but it’s constant and for no good reason.  This?  There is a reason to it.  Just like I made it to the top of a wall and down a river, I will make it to 20 pushups.  Maybe even 50.  Or probably just 20.  But I’ll be stronger for it, better for it, healthier for it, and proud of myself.  Even if I am in so much pain for it.

At least this can be treated with actual pain meds.Borderline Personality Disorder and exercise

You Gotta Have Faith

Faith and I met when Thomas was 1.  We last saw each other not long after he turned 2.  He turns 10 in less than a month.  So to say it had been a while is an understatement.

I’m not sure what happened to cause us to drift.  We weren’t extremely close, to begin with.  We hadn’t known each other long enough to reach extremely close.  She is a wonderful person and we got along well, the time just hadn’t been put into it.

She lived not too far out, but not down the street.  We both had kids.  My mental health was going down the tubes.  I feel like there was something more as well, but I don’t recall.  It wasn’t a big blow-out fight or anything dramatic between us.  Life just prevented us from hanging out and so we kind of drifted.

But we did keep in touch over various social media.  So I knew the major events of her life, and she knew mine, even if the fine details weren’t being discussed.

When Lisa moved and I questioned how I was going to find myself in a kayak again, Faith spoke up with there being local places that kayaks could be rented, she just didn’t know where and she didn’t have the guts to do it.

At least not alone.

Faced with all of my social life leaving the state, and hearing an offer of an old acquaintance wanting to give things a go, I didn’t miss the opportunity.

I sought Lisa’s advice on where to go, I planned well in advance with Faith when we could do this.

And yesterday I found myself in 1 of 2 rented kayaks, Faith in the other, and off we went on adventure.  An adventure we’ll never forget.  The trip we bought, which is self guided with instruction on where to get in and what to look for to get out, was promised to be 1-2 hours.  We took 3, with an hour of it sitting in our boats, anchored to the side of the river, just catching up on 8 years of history away from one another.  It was like we were never apart.  It was easy.  For all my social anxiety and awkwardness, it was so easy.

We got stuck, we found ourselves going through fast water spots backwards with little control of our boats.  We laughed.  We cried out in half terror, half amusement.  I found myself sitting in the middle of a river when we were too stuck to move without someone getting out.  I pulled her through it, working hard to not lose my boat in the process, and at one point just sat in the water up to my waist, to catch my breath.  I’ll tell you though, my hip was sore from sitting so cramped for so long, and that water was instant relief.

We came out soaked head to toe and thrilled with the experience.  We were a sight.  We elicited laughs from fellow boatmen, who were better at it than we.  But we made it to the end, proud, soar, and not the ones lamenting the loss of keys and socks to the river.

And we came out knowing that while we can’t get together weekly, she lives an hour or so away, gas isn’t cheap and time isn’t limitless, we will make at least once a month happen.  She works closer to me than she lives, so we’ll do the occasional dinner.  Her son is a couple of years older than Thomas, we’ll get the kids together somewhere roughly half way between our homes.  She and I will kayak or canoe again at the end of the season.

I’m not without hope.

I have Faith.