I already have a post started but I’m too depressed to finish it. Seriously. Happy girl is sad. I don’t want to leave. I hate it. HATE. : (
Jun 022010
Apr 142010
It’s been a bad night. A bad night on many incomprehensible levels. At least I didn’t send my kid back to Russia bad night. We must be grateful for small miracles.
It was one of those epitome of days when you wonder why you work so hard. It’s all for what? To feel like you’ve failed? Granted, I am probably a lot harder on myself than I should be. I push myself to the point of exhaustion. To the point of feeling is hard. And I’m only taking three classes right now. Do you all remember me when I was taking 5 at a time? I was non-human.
Today during my afternoon class I received my midterm paper back. I got a C. Patti does not get C’s. Ever. With the one exception of one professor. My new found self proclaimed favorite professor has now given me 2 C’s. He has given me more C’s than I have ever had in the culmination of my entire school career. Why must we ask? Apparently it’s because I’m not up to par. I worked my ass off. Was done way ahead of everyone else. And yet, I got a C. Why did I get a C – why? Beating myself up has become my new favorite hobby.
But, there is, hope. Hope is what life depends on. Hope that there is happiness. I had a few tears after my C, or many tears if we want to be honest, until I was angry at myself for crying over a C. Which made me feel like a failure even more for not being able to fail at anything, and of course I cried even more. I sucked up all my courage and patted my face dry, tried to pretend I didn’t cry, and packed myself up and went on to my Stats course.
I had a flurry of emotions running through me as I walked down the three flights of stairs in the math building. Angry, scared, ashamed. On top of it all extreme panic was setting in, as I was hoping to get a letter of recommendation from the amazing professor, and with all of these C’s, one can’t imagine any kind of recommendation letter to be raving on my ability to perform in an educational setting. When it was time for my Stats class to start I reluctantly went in, remembering then that we were to be receiving our tests back. So I was waiting for yet another big grade to come back at me. I secretly told myself that if it was more bad news, if I had received another C, or worse, I would get up and walk out.
There is absolutely nothing worse than crying in front of everyone over something you think is entirely pathetic yourself.
I sat down, and held my breath. I texted Brandon and Nick to try and talk my way through not being angry at my professor for my grade on my paper. My very supportive best Nick told me to punch him “in the dick.” I’m grateful for him for the small smiles he can bring me. I waited with my hands clasped together, staring into space, and hoping for a least a little glimmer of hope that I wasn’t a complete failure at life.
I now know, looking back, even though I still feel horrible, that I put too much emphasis on specific grades. School is my life though. I live for it. I want it. I want to be good. I want to be good at something. And nothing has come easier to me than being a good student. I loved gifted when I was younger because it was fun, and easy, and I got to be with people who understood the desire to be good at something, anything. To feel the light shining on our immature little souls who didn’t know what life was really about.
During this time Brandon had sent me a text. It was him expressing his frustration over my grade. He had a hard time grasping his mind around how I got a C after hours of dedicated work, and my reaching out to my professor for help (which he neglected to give me because he got sick and then felt I didn’t need my paper gone over before handing it in). He was angry, frustrated, and most of all, feeling protective over his wife and the extreme agony I was going through. To be cared for. It keeps me afloat, and I love him for it with every inch of my being.
With that little sigh of relief from my husband caring about me, my professor approached me. I hadn’t realized he started to hand back the tests because I was in my own little world of trying to imagine that things were OK. That my husband loved me and wanted to protect me. That I had a beautiful 3 year old waiting at home wanting to make snakes out of playdoh. Apparently I was also was on the top of the stack of tests to hand back, so I looked up, slightly shocked to see him there, and he smiled at me.
Smiled? Really? Yes, smiled. He said “Hey, good job.” My mind went blank. Wait, what? Did he say good job, because I’m pretty sure I’m a dismal failure at this point. I slowly grab my paper, inching my eyes up the page desperately hoping that the need to get up and leave would fail to come.
And, I got a 100. Yes, a 100. Not a single thing done wrong. My test could have been used as the answer key. No one even touched my grade. The next closest was in the low 80s, then mostly in the seventies (and lower, some way lower, I feel bad).
I took a picture to relish in my new found release. I stopped crying. I started to feel, human again. Even though the feelings of failure still sat in the pit of my stomach.
The !!! points that my professor put on the end made my day in the slightest of ways. After the shock of the perfect score, I then began to wonder why I couldn’t pull off anything higher than a C in the class that is my major. When I can take a test blind for a course that has nothing to do with what I want to do with my life. I then couldn’t help wondering if maybe God was trying to tell me something. Or fate had taken over.
I sat for the rest of the class in a half daze. My brain was still hurting from the extreme flood of emotion after receiving my paper back and rushing to the bathroom to hinder the looks I would receive from sobbing in the halls. Then it reminded me how during the test, it only took me twenty minutes. I went up to hand in my test to the professor, and feeling slightly strange since I could tell everyone else was still very early into the test, I whispered to him very lightly that I was done. I somehow felt I must have done something wrong, must be missing something major, and he told me to sit back down and stew on it. So, I did. I stewed on it for about another 15 minutes. I also did some people watching, trying to distinguish if anyone was in agony and if anyone was close to done. To my dismal surprise, everyone was in agony, and no one was close to done. I gave up though, threw my hands up in the air, and decided that if there was something I was missing, I had no idea what it was. So I handed in my test with an audible “I give up,” and left the class to wander off into my life and forced the test out of my mind.
So I want to thank my brain for being some kind of strange math whiz, which I never quite understood. Who thanks their brains? The people who have a hard time with failing. The people who find release in the smallest accomplishments. And I am definitely one of those people.
My eyes still hurt from crying.
Apr 102010
There is more to this article (click on the title of this blog to go to it).
But seriously…SERIOUSLY?! There were a lot of people commenting on this article afterward, saying that she didn’t go about it the right way but she had no choice because the child was violent.
People, if you adopt a child, they’re your child. Not your adopted child anymore. Not previously someones child. Your child. That’s it. You don’t get to ship them back like a pair of shoes that didn’t fit. You adopted them, you agreed to love and take care of them, regardless of the way the child turns out. How dare people be upset that he wasn’t perfect? He was 6 from an orphanage when they adopted him. How could he not be disturbed? How horrible. This breaks my heart. Life is hard, things are hard, but don’t just send him away. Use services around you if you have to and figure out how to deal with the problem. Even if that includes having someone else help you with the child. You could afford to adopt them, you can afford to take care of them. Ugh. I hate this.
Mar 262010
Is up with this weather? Why can’t we do gradual…a degree here, a couple there… Not WHAM! 30 degrees colder today than yesterday, and tomorrow, well it will be 20 degrees warmer than today.
So the general consensus of the Finton’s (and extended family) is that today is a sad day. SU lost last night. I’m glad I don’t have to go to campus today, as I suspect it’s pretty dismal. Ah, hopefully next year. At least it wasn’t a slaughtering…they shouldn’t be completely ashamed (maybe…)
This semester is dragging dragging dragging. I only have 3 more of this undergrad crap to go. Then 4 more of my first grad degree…and then who knows how many after that because I’m going to try and do part time so I can actually work. I’m really having to push myself through. Why? Because apparently I like the torture. Apparently.
Feb 082010
Oh yeah yesterday, while moving the new fridge into the house, I, in my ultimate wisdom, had taken the heavy end because it was easier to hold on to. So I was the first one to have to step on to the porch, and since well, I’m an ass in all aspects of life, that and God hates me, I slipped on the porch. Thus making the fridge come crashing down onto my knee that was under it. The fridge suffered minor damage, only a scratch, as it was pretty near the ground already. I on the other hand am fairly gimpy and the muscles in my right arm are pulled.
It’s been a year today, since my dad passed away. It’s like an anniversary or something. Why does there have to be this day that he died. Why can’t it just be that he passed away? The “anniversary” is just here to torture you and to remind you of the pain you should be feeling. I hate today.
Dec 232009
Someone shoot me for saying “gotta say.” What the hell. Why are people letting this go on so long? I’m seriously disappointed.
The truck got dropped off tonight to be fixed tomorrow. “Supposedly” fixed I should say. So many other things, like the transmission I got not working, or something else being wrong, or maybe it really wasn’t even the transmission that was shot are much more likely to happen than the truck actually being fixed. The truck being to a point where it is workable and driving is I’d say, about 7%. All those other things are much more likely.
I got a B in one class. I can’t believe it. It’s actually blowing my mind. Makes me sad…I wouldn’t care so much besides the fact that my entire life is depending on grad school. And since I don’t know anyone, grad school isn’t going to come as easily to me as to all the other traditional students. I suck at life. Why does everything have to be so much harder for me?
And….Erik’s sick. I mean like, sick sick. Erik never gets sick. Ever. He was running a high fever today, well what I consider high. It was 102.6 at one point. It was making me nervous. He is finally in his own bed sleeping though. We watched 7 movies today, and he started an 8th. Then he finally passed out. I ended up laying in bed with him all day because my psyche reverted back to that of a first time mom with a newborn. Erik hasn’t had a fever since…um…he was a tiny infant? Not a really serious fever anyway. He has had the sniffles, and some other minor stuff, but nothing this bad. I was freaked out, and still am. I keep checking on him every half an hour. Okay okay I know a bit much, and he is 3 so I should have calmed down by now. But he is my boy, and if Brandon and I don’t love and take care of him he will never know what it’s like. And he deserves that, and so much more. *sigh* If he doesn’t feel better by 8:30 am he will be going to the Dr.
Dec 072009
Well life for Brandon and myself is pretty much absolutely horrible right now. The transmission went on Brandon’s truck and we can’t fix it. So we only have one car and the other that we have a payment on for a few more years is going to sit in the driveway. We are both feeling pretty horrible and not sure what to do. Prayers are definitely needed.
Nov 082009
I think about my dad everyday. I currently own a cross of his my mother gave him while they were dating. He used to wear it everyday, and did for many years. My memory tells me he never took it off. It finally broke one day, the ring that keeps it on a chain, and for some reason he never fixed it. I think he was unable to alter it because it might change the memory and the meaning behind it.
When my dad passed away my mother and I were going through his old things. My dad kept in his possession this really beautiful chest. He kept a lot of his mementos that he collected throughout his life in there. When I came across the cross I immediately remembered it. I asked my mother if I could have it, and she cried and said she wanted me to.
When I brought it home Brandon very thoughtfully brought it to a jeweler and had it fixed for me. I bought a very long chain so that I could slip it over my head easily when needed. I wore it for the first couple of months after he passed away. After awhile I was finding it hard to keep around my neck. I stopped wearing it because I could always feel it. In my heart, around my neck – it was painful. The necklace felt heavy, as if there was something tightening and stretching the skin where it lay. I almost felt that I was somehow defiling the memory of this thing he once held precious. So I tucked it away in my drawer, and kept the memory in my head instead.
Today I put the necklace back on. The weight isn’t as bad, but the memories are stronger. I’m sure I won’t be able to wear it for too long, but I pray that it will get lighter as time goes on. My emotions are so split. So, fickle. Almost fragile. I wish all of the pieces could be put back together.
*I – Patti – wrote this. I’m just on Brandon’s computer and am far too lazy to sign into my own account now.
Feb 252009
Well, life has been rough, I’m not going to lie. I know it’s been awhile since I’ve written anything. I haven’t really had anything to say, and well I’m not sure I do now.
My father passed away a couple of Sundays ago on the 8th and 3:26 in the morning. It was, as I consider, the worst thing to ever happen to me. I know my father and I didn’t always get along, but it has completely broken my heart to know that I will never see him again. All I keep replaying in my head is all of the times we used to play wrestle, and dancing with him, and him teaching me how to use a saw. Then how much he loved Erik, and used to talk to him when he was a baby. I hate knowing that Erik will not know my dad. He was a good man, and I miss him more than I can say. It’s been harder because some people have been very inconsiderate that are supposed to have been close to me. Then Brandon and I keep getting shit because we’re not doing what other people want us to do. We’re getting like threatened. It’s such bullshit. I wish they would stop. Why does everyone try to make us feel guilty if we can’t make a family gathering? Jesus. I’m glad my mom and Chris aren’t like that, and are loving and supportive.
School has sucked. Bad. I’m having a hard time concentrating. I had a exam in nutrition last night, and it was horrible. I knew I was going to bomb it. Even though I studied a ton (and I’m not a studier) I was having a hard time retaining the info because my mind is somewhere else. I hate this! I hope it gets easier, someday.
At least we’ll be back in FL in April. Chris better get her butt in gear with this wedding stuff though! Ah!!!
Jan 282009
Well I’m home, and it’s been really hard. These past couple of weeks have been some of the hardest of my life (right up there with some of the days during my pregnancy). I miss my father so much. I miss him being him so much already, but now, not knowing if I will ever see him alive again… When I was getting ready to leave I went to say goodbye to my father and just completely broke down. I couldn’t stop crying and saying I was sorry. He asked me to come back in two weeks. I told him I would try, even though I know I won’t be able to. With school, and our financial situation, I just…don’t know. I’m getting behind in school, and it’s stressful. I’m having a hard time with Philosophy because I didn’t have the book with me last week while I was in FL, and you’re required to post on the discussion boards. So I was trying to post, just to continue on peoples ideas, but, I keep getting it pointed out how wrong I am. Jesus.
Nutrition has also been pretty much horrible. I miss last weeks lecture, and we had a quiz last night. I know I flunked it. I read the material and studied, but there were things in there that I know came from the lecture, so I had no idea.
Writing has been fun as well. There are all sorts of papers due, that my professor didn’t tell me about since I was in FL and she just wanted me to spend time with my dad. I have one due tonight, but only noticed because it was on BB. So I started it, and hopefully it’s not too bad. The weather is horrible though, so lets see if I even make it to class tonight, even though I can’t miss another one!
Sonny also ended up in the ICU. When he got to the hospital, the nurse put his g tube down into his lungs instead of his stomach, so the medication they were giving him went into his lungs. So they had to do emergency surgery Monday night to remove that fluid from his lungs. Not forgetting he still has that same problem that he originally went in for. Now he can’t get that surgery for a couple of weeks, and he really needed it. His stomach wouldn’t stop hurting and he was running fevers. I think he is back in a normal room today though.
Things at home have just been, horrible. Erik never wants me, and I used to just let it roll of my back because he was 2, ya know? But now, I just, can’t. If we are in the store he screams if I push the cart because he wants Brandon too. If he is upset about anything he wants Brandon to carry him and screams if I pick him up. He wants Brandon to change his diaper. He wants Brandon to put him to bed. He never wants anything to do with me. It’s, horrible. I don’t know where I’m failing there, but it appears I seriously am. The day I got home, after not seeing me for a week, about an hour after he saw me again, he wanted Brandon.