Rebuilding

I've avoided this blog for a couple of reasons. One, it's been awhile since I've had any quarky, funny moments that should be repeated, or that I know my audience would enjoy. Secondly, and I'm presuming this to be the main reason, is because I think that writing only magnifies the voices in my head and I'm not sure those voices should get any louder . . . but maybe I can get rid of them by just letting them out . . . here it goes . . .

I'm tired. Really, really tired. My life revolves around night shifts and taking care of other people and even writing that sentence angers me: To say "life revolves around work" drives me practically insane. And I'm sure my personality reflects that too. I loathe leaving my house at 10:30pm for work. I spend my days off recovering. The word "rebuilding" comes to mind. But before I know it I'm back to work. Have I really rebuilt my life, or myself, at all?

In nursing school we talked about how I wouldn't be able to properly take care of patients unless I properly take care of myself first. I thought: I know what makes me happy, I know what I can do to take care of myself, I'm meant to be a nurse so it wouldn't be a problem. What I didn't account for is the fact that after nursing school I moved to a new place. I started over. All over.

I moved away from things that made me happy . . . to love.

Isn't that odd? Although love makes me happy, it can't be the only thing that does. Right? It would be unhealthy. I would be relying on something that is not concrete. Love is never a sure thing, so why do I plan, and rely on something so big to be "the thing" that makes me happy? Why do I think I will be taken care of with love?

Understand this: my faith used to guide every decision I made. I used to think that because God loved me, I would be taken care of. Every ounce of my body believed that God would love me and take care of me and protect me. No matter how hard life was, LOVE would take care of me. And boy, oh boy, I couldn't have been more wrong! I ran away as fast as I could from that perspective and from then on, I've never been happier. I stopped relying on love and started relying on myself.

So here I am, unrealistically thinking that love is going to take care of me? How did I get back here again?!! It's lonely. I'm lonely.

But that's the thing, I've never been so lucky, or blessed, to have this love. It's something so rare I can hardly believe I have it. It's unbelievable really. But I'm missing this entire aspect of my life which I knew made me happy and made me who I am. And so what do I do??

I keep trekking along. Keep moving forward and trying to build my life where I am. It takes me awhile to feel comfortable, to get to know people. Even in a room full of people I feel alone. But I know that eventually, I'll find my peace and my sanctuary here. I'll find people I can be me around. I'll find people who have similar perspectives and lifestyles like mine. It just takes a while. I'm trying to do this all while I'm trying to take care of other people. And I'm tired. And sometimes I miss my old sanctuary, my place, my friends.