Wish me luck

I know you think I'll need it.

I've come here with no real intention other than to write. My emotions are lacking. I don't have to sort them out because I know things now rather than feeling things. While I'm less crazy because of this, I'm not quite me. Being crazy has its downside but for the most part, it's how I've learned to function. And you know, it was working if we forget about all the crying jags and fear of driving. Okay, so it wasn't working. But I kind of liked the process of sorting through my emotions. It really helped me sort through things that did or didn't happen. But now, I just have facts and circumstances. How do I know what to feel if I'm not overwhelmed by emotion? I think what I'm saying is that... Well, I'm not sure what I'm saying. Maybe I'm just reflecting in a way I said I didn't much anymore.

Some humans ain't human.

I'm going to be a teacher. Weird. I couldn't even keep a third grader from stabbing a second grader with a pencil. Shit.

Seven or so months. And I understand what I've critisized for so long. Perfect? No. Good? Yes.

This post lacks a significant amount of profundity. I can't find it.

It's getting hot in Phoenix. The oranges have already blossomed and the fruit doesn't smell as sweet as the flower. I hate air conditioning. But I sure do love balconies. Regardless, I'd give up any pool to be by a natural water source. I often miss the life of a hippie. In all fairness, I'm rarely not barefoot.

It's funny: I feel that many of my emotions have been evading me but I constantly feel overwhelmed with guilt.

But I know, it'll be alright.

-Theresa

Screw California

And friends that are never there.

Important (relatively) bits of information and possible explanations:

I got into TFA. I'm going to be a teacher. I am so happy. I'm happy that I got it but more notably, I'm happy that I get to be a teacher. I think it's something I could love for the rest of my life. Summer training institute starts in June and after, I find out what school and grade I'll be teaching. I know this: I'll be teaching somewhere in K-8 Special Education in Phoenix or its surrounding areas. My hope is that I'll be a reading specialist. I'll be getting my Masters in Education from Arizona State University. I'm applying for loans and praying for grants. I'll be living in Phoenix for at least two more years.

I don't think I'll ever be a California girl. Well, maybe Northern California. But definitely not a city California girl. San Diego was nice to visit in December. San Francisco was as I left it three years ago: not for me. Carmel was absolutely amazing. It's the type of town I could see myself living in were I to write a fictional tale of my life. Water and natural beauty and art and grass for my toes and a breeze.

I've been in a relationship for just over six months now. Things are going well. We don't use the love-word, which is okay with me because I scare easily.

My hearing isn't what it used to be since getting an ear infection a couple years ago. I'm starting to fear that I'll go deaf as I get older and not be able to enjoy music as much. My dad is starting to.

I'm still not sure where I belong. By becoming a teacher, I think I'm on the right path. While the weather is nice during the winter, I'm not sure Phoenix is the place for me. Any guesses on where the place for me is?

-Theresa

In time, she's beautiful

If you hold her back, she may never know.

My goodness, time does fly.

It's March. MARCH. What happened to the misery of August? Man, am I glad that misery is gone. In seven days I find out the judgement of TFA. In one week, I find out what I am or am not doing for the next two years of my life. Or my whole life, I suppose.

The interview went decently. I think I did well on the teaching portion of it. I taught about the difference between the three types of triangles (equilateral, isoseles, scalene) in five minutes. That's not very much time. I thought that went pretty well though. I had practiced a million times. The individual interview wasn't terrible but I'm not ever sure how I do. I only got confused by a question once. I hope that doesn't hurt me. The fact that I'm in the type of schools they send new teachers to and I want to stay there says a lot, I think. TFA thinks too, I think. AmeriCorps pays very little and I put in quite a bit of time. I haven't worked less than fifty hours a week since December. I have my fingers crossed. The first thing I'm going to do is look for housing. And then I'm going to make a new budget. Well, I'll probably drink a few clebretory beers here and there. If I don't get in, I'll be drinking a few consolatory beers. And I'll be trying to figure out what to do next. A second year of AmeriCorps never killed anyone, right?

If I get in, it's Phoenix, Denver or the Bay Area. I considered a few other places but I guess I settled for those. I haven't lived in Phoenix long enough to love or hate it. I'm not sure I actually want to live in the Bay Area. I think we all know my feelings on Denver.

The rest:

Five months and counting, it seems.
I cooked for ten hours on Saturday and I'd do it again in a second.
I regularly drive on the freeway but still drive more than an hour a day.
TFATFATFATFATFATFATFA.
There isn't a feeling I haven't eaten in the last few months.
I miss sleeping through the night.
And feeling rested.
Stephanie comes to visit in a week.
Justin and Natalie come to visit 8 April.
SUPER EXCITED.
FATFATFATFATFATFATATFAT.
Thyroids are stupid.
So are strange skin discolorations.
How do you define settling?
I would drink anything out of a mason jar.

-Theresa

So can we take the next hour

and talk about me?

I've made it through the first two rounds for Teach For America. I submitted my essays and application and whatnot and then I got a phone interview. In eleven days, I have my final interview to go to. I'm excited and a little scared. The three sites I have listed as number one are Phoenix, Denver and the Bay Area. There are more places I would love to go but I ended up choosing those. I'm getting anxious trying to prepare. I really want this.

I've never really had an easy time making decisions. I think I'm getting better.
I'm getting the itch to start traveling again.
I love gardening.
And being barefoot.
The future doesn't seem intimidating. Just a little daunting.
I'm hardly a grown-up.

-Theresa

Last night,

I couldn't sleep. A year ago, I wouldn't.

I had all these crazy dreams and now I can't seem to remember them. I would wake up at random times with a sudden urge to be doing something else--anything else. But now, it's just kind of tapping me on the shoulder. My urge to do something bigger is not silenced but it is muffled for the time being. Maybe because I'm doing something kind of big by volunteering for a year. More likely, because I'm making better choices and working toward something.

I am five hundred words away from submitting my Teach For America application. They capitalize the "f" in for and shouldn't. That's all I think of when I see it written out. That and how much I want to be part of the program.

I thought about the pants I wore last New Year's Eve. I changed out of them this New Year's Eve even though my ass fits in them so much better now. I want a new start. I guess there was just something too symbolic about wearing those pants to enter into two different new years. What is it about the first of every year that gives people the delusion that things will change the second the clocks switch over? Whatever it is, it's magical and I kind of like it. Goodbye, 2009. Joyful doesn't accurately describe what it was like seeing you go.

As much as I didn't want to come to work this morning, I'm very thankful to be here. Here at work, in Phoenix and at this point in my life. I've learned quite a bit, I'm sure. Could I tell you what? Probably in a carefully worded essay. But not yet. Not really. I'm not sure what I've learned. Just that I've learned something. And not after making mistakes this time. That's new for me.

Resolution: Don't make promises you (I) can't keep.

-Theresa

My Birthday was Two Days Ago.

And this is my 100th post.

I know I think this every year for every age, but I don't know what twenty-four is supposed to feel like. So far, it's better than twenty-three. So far, it's different.

Twenty-three gave me these gifts:

Two road trips
The Avett Brothers
Surgery
Eight bloody months. (Gross, I know.)
Hashimoto's Thyroiditis
New Year's Day
Hives
Loneliness
Marita (Although, I suppose that was 22)
An AmeriCorps position
Sadness
Acceptance
Celexa
Self-Reliance
Justin and Natalie
A boyfriend
Zombieland
Visits from Triina

Twenty-three was a bitter sweet year. My birthday party was a concert. I fear that most of the people at that party are people I may never see again. But that's growing up, isn't it?

Twenty-Four has given me these gifts so far:

No cold until after my birthday
A growing support system
A boyfriend's parents
Potential road trips
Two upcoming Avett Brothers shows
A visit to come from Stephanie and my sister
A growing like for Phoenix
People who let me down less than I let myself down.

I know I have more to learn and experience. I'm aware of that. But Twenty-Four has so much more promise than Twenty-Three ever did. Shortly before leaving Kalamazoo, I took an informal survey of about ten people. All of them said that twenty-three was a bad year. In no way am I glad to hear that I'm not the only one.

Dear friends,

I still miss you.

-Theresa

Yesterday was Zac Hanson's birthday.

So, it's about that time. You know, where I start to feel a little guilty for not having updated in awhile. More, I feel guilty for not having written in a little while. Sort of. Here's an up to date list of truths:

I don't hate Arizona nearly as much as I used to.
This has largely to do with the fact that I started working.
And I have friends now.
One of those friends happens to be my boyfriend.
Yes, it weirded me out to actually write that.
I still don't know what I want to do with my life.
My job is getting better with each day because I've asked for stuff to do.
I'm not sure the thyroid medicine is working but the crazy pills certainly are.
I haven't cried in over a month.
The last time I could say that was a long time ago.
My range of emotions is fairly limited at this present time.
I'm not sure I really like that.
I'm really glad that I've made myself be a person who tries to make the best of every situation.
Do I want to be a teacher?
The high temperatures were in the eighties for a week and it was perfect.
I wish I could run my toes in the grass.
The winter grass is growing but it still houses roaches.
I met my first scorpion a few days ago.
I still don't like them.
There are multiple cases of the flu (regular and swine varieties) at my school.
I haven't changed anything I do for that.
I love probiotics.
I still miss my scattered friends.
The friendships I have cultivated here lack a certain amount of depth.
I still don't know how to be in a relationship.
I've become one of those people that stops to say hello to every dog I meet.
Before acknowledging the owner.
I've driven on the freeway quite a few times now.
Alone (not following anyone and with no one else in the car) too.
These schools make me sad.
These kids deserve better.
I'm tired all the time.
In fact, I wish I was asleep right now.
But all in all, my life is pretty good right now.
And I believe I'm making the most of it.

-Theresa

Dear Body, (Part III)

I've been sitting on these words for awhile because I just wasn't sure what was going to happen. But I have to tell you, I never thought I'd be so happy to hear "you have an autoimmune disease." A few days ago, I was going to sit down and yell at you for having such ridiculous problems that no doctor could seem to piece together. But one finally did. Body, I was too distracted by what was going on in my head to pay full attention to you. Oh, of course I was still annoyed with you. But I think you already knew that. So I went to see Miss Head Doctor and man did she seem mean with all those blood tests she ordered. AND THEN ONE MORE. But that last one did the trick. That last one said all the crazy in you and in my head was largely because there's a problem with my thyroid. I'M CRAZY FOR A REASON! No one ever gets to say that and not be blaming someone else. I want to thank you, Body. Not for causing all those problems but... No, I don't want to thank you. That was a mean thing to do.

Body, we've been through a lot this year. Hey, it wasn't my idea to cut you open and poke around. I was just fine with saying "no" anytime I was asked if I'd had a surgery. I think this year will forever be known as The Year I Bled. Literally and metaphorically, it seems. It was the year I finally decided to take care of myself and you rather than just being in fight or flight mode all the time. I understand that you're probably as fed up with me as I am with you, Body. I totally get that. I'd been running you on an average of thirty hours of sleep a week and a diet that mostly consisted of cheap coffee and cheaper food. I've tried to rectify that in more recent months. I slept more, stopped drinking coffee for the most part and went gluten free. That didn't work. Because you're a jerk. Okay, so it's not entirely your fault. The nice Family Doctor said that you have something called Hashimoto's Thyroiditis. She could tell because one of your thyroid hormones was way off the charts. The normal level is supposed to be under 35. Yours was 780.

The symptoms:

Fatigue (check)
Drowsiness (check)
Forgetfulness (check)
Depression (check)
Difficulty with learning (It's been awhile)
Dry, brittle hair and nails (Okay, you don't have this one. Yay!)
Dry, itchy skin (Not really a check either)
Puffy Face (check)
Belly problems (check)
Sore muscles (check)
Weight Gain (this was a check until the gluten free thing)
Sensitivity to cold (check)
Menstrual problems (CHECK.)

That nice Head Doctor said that my symptoms sounded like depression but weren't fully consistent and that's why she ordered that extra blood test. Body, I want to say I'm sorry for all that yelling I did and all those mean things I said. I meant them at the time but I was just really frustrated. The Family Doctor said I have to take a pill a day for the rest of my life. As my peace offering to you, Body, I'm going to take that pill and I'm not going to complain. So, get better damn it. The best part about that pill is that it has a generic so that even when I don't have insurance anymore, it still only costs $4 a month. I know it's not entirely your fault either. It turns out that Hashimoto's is hereditary. Do you know what my dad said when I called to tell him what was wrong, Body? Of course you do. You were there. "Oh, your mom has that too. And I think my doctor said I have it too. And your sister might have it too." I didn't know any better, Body. It seems my family didn't think to tell me THEY HAVE A HEREDITARY DISEASE THAT CAUSES ALL THE SYMPTOMS I HAD. You and me, we made do with what we had.

I'm going to stick with the gluten free thing. It does make me feel better. Plus, I now weigh as much as I did in high school. Now, even though I'm making you be gluten free, I'll happily give you as much beer as you want, Body. And I do hope that's a lot of beer. I'm going to take that pill everyday. I'm going to try and get you normal amounts of sleep but you're going to have to meet me halfway on that one and stop being so tired all the time. It's just not fair. I want to do things. I kind of need your help with that one. I might not take a second job. I don't really need it. I mean, I did in the month of August but that's over in a couple days. I like weekends. It'll be good. I'll shave your legs every now and then and maybe we can go swimming in October or something. Yeah, I'd do that for you. Body, we've really got to work together. We could have a good thing going for us, I think. If it's less hair you want, I can do something about that. I was thinking about going out and buying you new pants today. You deserve them. Body, I do want to thank you for having something easy to fix wrong with you. I know it could've been much worse. An autoimmune disease sounds scary but it seems like an easy fix. We've been through so much more together, Body. We can totally do this. Let's do this.

Most Sincerely,

Theresa

Who put this breadth

behind my perspective?

I went to a Southern Baptist church last week and kind of liked it. It was the friendliest group of worshipers I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting. It was quite obvious that they had a "greet the visitor" thing going but they were very welcoming. The music was okay and the message wasn't anything especially profound. But it's churches that I've been to that have made me this jaded, I think. Any true word of Jesus should be profound. I'm going back because of how friendly the people were. I've bonded with a septuagenarian named Irene. She took me to lunch and convinced me I should come back the following week (tomorrow). So I will. Because I didn't do any research on any other churches and that's just fine. I don't need an edgy church. I just need Jesus.

I've made a few friends out here. Mostly, they're friends of my roommates but they're starting to be friends of mine as well. I'm learning what it means to be an introvert. I hate it. I really like being with people. I like feeling busy. I enjoy it. But I've always known it.

The psychiatrist put me on medication and had a fancy way of saying "your family has a history of bipolar disorder and depression so I can't just call this something simple." It hasn't kicked in just yet but I am starting to feel a little less helpless each day. That's good. That's what it's supposed to do. I just have to keep reminding myself that asking for help isn't giving up. With this situation or any other.

Operation Get-Over-It is in full effect.

-Theresa

Sitting on the balcony

But I'm not making any promises.

I spend most of my days alone these days. That's the hard part. That's what hard about being here. I love being around people and talking and communicating and sharing. And I'm not getting to do that. So why don't I? It's hard being in a new city alone. Legitimately alone. I'm not talking about being a part of a married couple and both of you being alone. I'm talking about being the only connection to yourself. I am the only person here who knows me for who I am. I want to change that. I do. But how? I think I'll go to a new church tomorrow. I might go to a show tonight. I should be able to drive within a couple of hours.

It's not hard having nothing to do if you have someone to share that experience with. It's not nothing then. It's a shared experience. I don't have those right now. Yesterday, I spent a drive being made fun of for reactions I can't control. That's what I have. I have letters I write because it gives me something to do. It's a level of communication. Today, I wrote one letter. I don't do well with bored. I don't do well with lonely. I'm hardly doing well.

Tomorrow, I'll go to a new church. I might write new letters. I'll think about buying groceries. I'll reconsider. I'll think about playing guitar. Or doing laundry. Tomorrow, I have another chance at a new start that I seem to be having such a hard time putting into action. Monday, I have a job interview. The training doesn't start until September.

I need to get out of this place.

Yeah, where?

It's okay. I'm not here. I'm on my way out. God, I hope I'm on my way out. I BETTER BE ON MY WAY OUT.

Yes, I've been drinking. But that's not a fair assessment. I've been praying. And I've been hoping. And I was really hoping it would get me somewhere. No, it will. Maybe not right now. But it will.

At this point, I can only think that getting over you would be the better choice. In this case, what good is hope doing? None. Yes, I miss you. Yes, I've told you. I'm afraid to call you because what if you don't answer? Then, I'll know. It's the best timing you could've hoped for. I reached out. And I still don't know what I'm grasping for. If you want me to wait, I will. If you want me to move on, I'll certainly try. But couldn't you just tell me? Just tell me where I stand.

I would say I couldn't handle this. I would. But I seem to be. I wouldn't say I'm doing fine. Because, clearly, I'm not. But I'm surviving. And that seems to be enough.

Keep it together. Keep. It. Together.

I hate it here.

Metaphorical.

Literal.

Does it matter?

I didn't think so.

I recognize your voice immediately. But we both know that's not enough. I'd keep writing but I've said too much. Tomorrow, I may go through this again and take it away. Like it would make a difference.

-Theresa

Take your hands out of pockets

and hold me.

You may or may not know these things:

I've been in Arizona for two weeks and one day.
I haven't "adjusted" yet.
That's my cop out way of saying I think I might've made a mistake in moving here.
I've never been on a date.
Of the two guys I "dated" in high school, one is gay and the other is married.
I get complimented most on my skin lately.
I've spent a lot of my life being told I was fat and ugly.
I have a hard time believing otherwise because of it.
I'm seeing a psychiatrist on Monday.
It makes me sad because I think I need to.
I have never had so much nothing to do in my life as I do right now.
I've spent most of my life being busy so I wouldn't have to think too much.
The last "good" night of sleep I had was on a Saturday afternoon almost four weeks ago.
Things are what you make of them.
Things are what you make of them, baby.
I worry that I'm never going to be enough.
I worry that I'm never going to feel like I'm enough.
I think my mom did a good job teaching me what she needed to for me to be a good wife.
The liberal college student in me isn't supposed to feel that way.
I want to feel like I belong.
Like I'm necessary.
Wanted.
How did I take so many steps backward?
I know I'm supposed to, but I don't really like Daniel Johnston all that much.
For three days this week, I worked for free.
I didn't mind much because it gave me something to do.
I miss having people to talk to about God.
My life story is starting to feel manufactured and impersonal.
It's okay, I stopped reading too.

-Theresa