Story of our lives.....

I’m addicted to memoirs. I’m not sure what it is that captivates me so but I cannot get enough of them. I find others lives fascinating – Mostly I read things having to do with psychology or the human mind and its ability to overcome traumatic events.

I’ve recently been reading a lot of books about people in foster care or who have encountered some type of abuse as a child. I think I cling to these books heavily as a source and way to move past my own traumatizing events. I find a common bond with the writers in which many of us share a hatred for the Child Protection systems and foster cares. While I never had to deal with a foster home first hand – I can only imagine the horror stories, but I also am able to see that there are good people who want more than a paycheck, who want to help people get better. And then I realize I am drawn to these memoirs because they allow me the knowledge that I am certainly not alone and they allow me to see how others cope with their own abandonment or abuses. It gives me ideas on ways to conquer my own demons.

I just stayed up reading a book I got from the bookstore yesterday called Three Little Words in which one [now] semi-famous girl Ashley, recounts her years in the foster care system where she endured harsh homes as well as adequate ones.

As I’m reading this book I feel a lump grow in my throat every time she talks about her love for her biological mother. How her mother was able to hold a hard grasp over her and the power and desire she had to be with her mother despite her own knowledge of her mothers instabilities. The lump I felt was my own need and connection with my own mother. How like the author, I always believed that my mother could and would change because she wanted my siblings and I. And while she may have wanted us and she loved us and like Ashley's mother, she was unable to conquer her own demons.

It’s interesting how much I clung to the need for my mother to be around, how much I cling to the idea of having a mother, even though I feel that time has long passed for me. I have several Stand-in mothers, unfortunately none of them can touch the want and need I have for my own mother. I find that my resentment towards her stupidity and actions make me hate her but love her still the same. It’s the torn emotions that really get to me and I saw these same conflicting emotions in Ashley story. Her story truly spoke to me.

Taking some time...

I took an extra week off of work to catch up on things I'm never able to do because of my work schedule, like Clean, do laundry, Go to my school, fill out paper work, get registered for classes. Drive around, find a new job... things I never get to do because I have to work.

Really I'm on a two week medical leave because I had my gallbladder removed. And While I could have returned on Monday, I choose to take the extra week because my doctor said that it takes about 2 weeks before a person returns to work. I have a doctors note and that makes this week even sweeter.

Granted, I'm not being paid for this leave, I also knew it was coming so I took the necessary steps to prepare. My bills are paid for a bit and that makes me not stress and enjoy the time off. A mini vacation for me -against my employers wants. But I hate them anyway and really wish they would fire me so I could collect unemployment and try and find a part time job for school. I am so over their dumbness.

I want to do a photo shoot soon, I just don't know what of. I really need to work with my camera some more, its not getting used enough. How sad. Anyone have any suggestions?

And that's what's going on in the boring world of Jennie.

The Show Must Go On....

Today is one of those days where I feel so blah, abandoned, and alone. It happens from time to time. And whenever I express my feelings towards it, I’m often told that what I’m feeling is ridiculous and that I’m just trying to cause guilt in other people. But it’s not really the case. It’s me who feels the guilt, because I feel like this. Because I feel like I should have more attention, when I get a little more than others.

Granted recently, I have had some, but mostly, I gave myself attention and occasionally there would be a little bit. Is it wrong of me to have wanted more? And that seems to be the problem. I need more than a few absentminded seconds before someone goes off to something else. I need a lot more, and I haven’t been able to get it in recent months, years really. I wanted to get better so I could do more things and not have to spend all my time alone in a bed healing. I wanted to be able to refresh and rejuvenate, get a better grasp of things. But it didn’t seem to go that way.

I can’t seem to move myself from needing people. Specific people. The people that don’t really have the time for me or the people who have that have other things to do. Being alone a lot gets to me… and then I get into these moods where I feel like my world is sinking and I forgot how to swim, and I almost just want to drown, but know I can’t.

I shouldn’t feel like this.

Status Update: Missing Gallbladder....not so missed

The official Status

I went in at 11 AM to the hospital for a surgery that was supposed to be at 1 PM, I didn’t actually get into the O.R until 7 PM – they kept having surgeries run late. And I should figure, as we were coming off a holiday weekend that included alcohol and explosives. I know those two don’t mix.

Surgery went well, from what I’m told there were no complications and they were able to do it entirely Laparoscopic. Which means I only have three 1-inch incisions on my stomach and one in my belly button area. I was real nervous about this because they said because of my weight there could be a lot of complications and they may have to do the old fashion cut me open approach. Scaring should be minimal.

Always the one for humor, the drugs they had me on made me exceptionally funny, or awkward. I did however make the Anesthesiologist laugh on a few occasions. The first part when they were having me switch to the Operating table, they put the back down on the bed I was on, which scared me so I just was like “oh shit, we’re going down” which made everyone laugh. Then again, when they were waking me from the anesthesia, I apparently said, “Holy shit, what did you guys do to me, it hurts so bad!”

And then while coming out of it, in the recovery room, I commented on my shoulder hurting really bad and the conversation went like this.

Nurse: Didn’t they tell you that your shoulder was going to hurt a little from the gas injected?
Me: No, no they did not
Nurse: We’ll now you know
Me: I sure do, Noted.

And then I came in and out of it, and anytime they said my last name, I would raise my hand and point at myself…. Which made a few nurses giggle.

I got out of the Hospital and home at about 11:30 PM, they wanted me to stay over night because it was so late, but I got to go home.

Yesterday I pushed myself entirely too hard to be self-dependent, and ended up hurting myself a little more. So today I’m typing this from bed, I haven’t moved much and the movements I do make is at 80-year-old pace. I have to stop every few seconds to catch my breath; healing sucks. And so do Low-fat Diets!

I’m doing decent, I thank everyone for notes of concern and I will keep you all posted and all the concerned texts I’ve gotten. Sorry if I haven’t replied to each one individually, I’m coming in and out of consciousness with the pain medication.