Lately I've been feeling like I'm going through another growth spurt (figuratively speaking). I spent 7 years in school working my ass of toward a degree I didn't think I was capable of getting, and I managed to land the dream job a year after graduating. I've moved to a new place where I don't know anybody, and have been forced to rebuild my life once again, and you know, it's been a good ride so far. I'm meeting some great people, and the experience itself will be something I remember forever. However, I can't shake this feeling that something is missing, or doesn't quite fit just right, and I can't explain it, or maybe I can but doing so would require revealing truths I'm not currently willing to acknowledge.
Space has always been my passion, and not just looking at stars on a clear night, but everything about space itself. The size of it knowing that all of the light we see from the stars is light that took at minimum of 8 years (if you're looking at Sirius) to get here or over a 16,000 years (if looking V762 Cas). Or the processes that occur, like the death of stars, formations of black holes, neutron stars, gamma ray bursts, or the seemingly miraculous way life forms from as if nothing at all. All I've ever wanted to do is travel the cosmos, ever since I was a little girl with a telescope, looking at other planets in our solar system, wishing to be anywhere out there as long as it's not here. And as fate would have it, I managed to land myself a job where I have an opportunity to move into the very field that would let me do that.
The problem is, I am deeply concerned with the current state of the world, and the country. There are people that are pretty much trying to send us back to the dark ages of racial, gender, sexual, and religious (or lack thereof) discrimination. They're trying to destroy our environment, kick people off healthcare, and take away our right to information. This is truly a scary time to be alive, and if all of that wasn't bad enough, we're also on the brink of war because the douche fuck can't stay off his twitter account, it's like he thinks this is a TV show and he's trying to promote ratings.
And if all of that wasn't bad enough, it's the holiday shopping season, the one time of the year where the worst parts of humanity come out all for the sake of an Xbox. I wonder if people actually understand how horrific their behavior is? Do they feel ashamed knowing they contributed to the death of a person who was trampled to death at a black Friday sale? This time of year displays nothing but pure, uninhibited chaos, and people don't see anything wrong with that, they just laugh, post videos and pictures, and go on about their day. This behavior has become normal, which is quite possibly the scariest part of it all.
So with all of that being said, what is one to do when the state of the world is so messed up, and with no end in sight? It's been causing me to seriously reconsider my career aspirations. I've always wanted to be able to help people, not just through volunteering at a shelter, but doing something that makes a big difference in this world. Like quitting my job to travel overseas to teach math or English, or help build houses for families in Africa, or help them bring clean drinking water. I've even thought about being a foster mom, to help abandoned kids get a second shot in this world. I could still pursue the space dream jobs, sure, but I have a hard time sitting idly while the world is destroyed by the soullessly greedy. How is it fair that I can accomplish my dreams (yes I know I've worked very hard to earn), when there are others out there who aren't even given a chance to accomplish theirs? I know that's the way it's always been and the way it'll always be, and we live in an "every man for himself" society, but it still doesn't stop me from wishing it could be different, that we could be different.
Sunday, November 26, 2017
Saturday, February 4, 2017
I saw a man get killed...
I saw somebody get killed the other night, it happened just outside my window. I can't get the night out of my head. It haunts me everywhere I go, I can't hide from the images, the sounds, the feelings.
I had just turned my TV off for the night, I was saying my nightly prayers, praying for the safety of my family, my friends, and thanking God for the blessings in my life. Then it happened, right in the middle of my prayer, a loud pop, at first I thought about the possibility of it being a firework, but considering it's February, I ruled it out quickly. I waited for a moment before I went to the window, what if the shooting wasn't over? I didn't want to get hit by a stray bullet. But then I started hearing yelling, so I jumped out of bed and ran to the window. And there, laying in the street, was a man, I couldn't see his face, there were people surrounding him, trying desperately to keep him alive. Women were crying and yelling, a man quickly took of his t-shirt that he had on under his jacket, and a cop comes sprinting around the corner, as others arrive in their vehicles. I just stand in the window, in shock, in horror, as I watch what is unfolding before my eyes. The gravity of the situation begins to sink in, and I begin to cry, and beg God to let him be alright. Over and over I continue to beg God "Let him be okay, let him be okay, please God let him be okay." I'm crying, I'm in shock, I want to walk away but I can't move. As the paramedics load him into the ambulance, I see the man, lying on the stretcher, motionless, and awkward. And what's left on the side walk, is the strangers t-shirt now stained with the blood of the man. Next to the t-shirt, a pool of blood, God there was so much blood, how could anybody possibly survive the loss of that much blood?
After the ambulance drives away, sirens echoing through the streets, and the cops begin taping off the crime scene, I retreat to my bed. I can't believe somebody had just been shot in front of my apartment. I start texting my friends, because I need to talk to somebody, immediately, because I don't even know how to begin to process something like this. One of my friends tries to comfort me, saying that if he was going to get more blood at the hospital, and they didn't put a sheet over him, proving he wasn't dead, yet. I finally put my phone down, and curl into a tight ball, and try to fall asleep, unfortunately sleep doesn't come easily.
I awake early the next morning, I think I had only slept for about 3 hours. I turn the news on, and there it is, the story of the man who had been shot in front of my apartment the night before. He died on the way to the hospital, from a gunshot wound to the head. How in the hell am I supposed to go teach classes this morning? I can't think straight, all I can think about is the sound of the gunshot, the women crying hysterically in the street, and the stranger, desperately trying to stop the bleeding with his t-shirt. The only thing I'm capable of doing is fighting back tears, and I'm slowly failing at that too.
After my morning class, I catch the afternoon news, and they have more information about what happened. The man was a security guard, just giving two women directions when this animal comes up behind him, points a gun at his neck, and shoots him. Unprovoked. Just, boom. The man was an ex-cop, a pastor in-between churches, working 65-70 hours a week, to feed his family. And now he's gone, a wife lost her husband of 30+ years, kids lost their father, and so many people lost a friend that night, and nobody can even comprehend why. Why did this animal decide to shoot this man, execution style, at random?
I don't know why, but I grieve for him, I grieve for him every single day. I never knew the man, never even met him. Perhaps I made him coffee once, but I can't remember with all of the customers we get. But I grieve for him every single day, and for his family. People have told me not to take this so personally, but how can you not? You witness a person's death, not only a death, you witness somebody getting killed in cold blood, and you're not supposed to take that personal? I constantly think about how I could've helped save him if I had been randomly walking around at that time. I could've alerted him of the animal with the gun. Of course that means I would've been putting myself in danger, and when you're not in the situation, it's so easy to think about all of the things you could do to prevent a situation like that from happening. I was in my apartment when this happened, and I still froze, what makes me think I could've been the hero in the moment? I just wish there was something I could've done, to help that man get home to his family, and kiss his wife again.
Whenever I see his picture, he always looks so happy, he looks like he was a really kind man, somebody I really wish I had known. But all I'll ever know is how he was lying in the street, bleeding, and how awkwardly he was on the stretcher when he was going into the ambulance. I left flowers at his memorial, and I walk by them every day. I see the spot where he fell after he got shot, everyday. I look out my window, and I see it every night. I see the other security officers, surrounding his memorial, and I just want to hug them, and tell them how sorry I am.
It's been a few days now since this happened, and I still don't know how to cope. I'll have moments in the day where I'll think that I'm finally moving on from this, but I always get pulled back to that night. I'll either walk by the spot where he fell, see a security guard, or a loud sound that will scare me and make me jump. You see people die on TV all of the time, or on the news, and you never really think about how real it all is until you actually see it. After you experience something like that, your perspective of everything changes. Suddenly, the crime jokes on TV aren't so funny, seeing people die in a TV show feels more real, and your outlook on the world is completely different.
Everything changed that night the man got killed. My life will never be the same as it was, I'll never be the person I was before that night again. I know I'll move on, I know things will get better, and I'll continue to live my life. I just wish the man could've done the same.
I had just turned my TV off for the night, I was saying my nightly prayers, praying for the safety of my family, my friends, and thanking God for the blessings in my life. Then it happened, right in the middle of my prayer, a loud pop, at first I thought about the possibility of it being a firework, but considering it's February, I ruled it out quickly. I waited for a moment before I went to the window, what if the shooting wasn't over? I didn't want to get hit by a stray bullet. But then I started hearing yelling, so I jumped out of bed and ran to the window. And there, laying in the street, was a man, I couldn't see his face, there were people surrounding him, trying desperately to keep him alive. Women were crying and yelling, a man quickly took of his t-shirt that he had on under his jacket, and a cop comes sprinting around the corner, as others arrive in their vehicles. I just stand in the window, in shock, in horror, as I watch what is unfolding before my eyes. The gravity of the situation begins to sink in, and I begin to cry, and beg God to let him be alright. Over and over I continue to beg God "Let him be okay, let him be okay, please God let him be okay." I'm crying, I'm in shock, I want to walk away but I can't move. As the paramedics load him into the ambulance, I see the man, lying on the stretcher, motionless, and awkward. And what's left on the side walk, is the strangers t-shirt now stained with the blood of the man. Next to the t-shirt, a pool of blood, God there was so much blood, how could anybody possibly survive the loss of that much blood?
After the ambulance drives away, sirens echoing through the streets, and the cops begin taping off the crime scene, I retreat to my bed. I can't believe somebody had just been shot in front of my apartment. I start texting my friends, because I need to talk to somebody, immediately, because I don't even know how to begin to process something like this. One of my friends tries to comfort me, saying that if he was going to get more blood at the hospital, and they didn't put a sheet over him, proving he wasn't dead, yet. I finally put my phone down, and curl into a tight ball, and try to fall asleep, unfortunately sleep doesn't come easily.
I awake early the next morning, I think I had only slept for about 3 hours. I turn the news on, and there it is, the story of the man who had been shot in front of my apartment the night before. He died on the way to the hospital, from a gunshot wound to the head. How in the hell am I supposed to go teach classes this morning? I can't think straight, all I can think about is the sound of the gunshot, the women crying hysterically in the street, and the stranger, desperately trying to stop the bleeding with his t-shirt. The only thing I'm capable of doing is fighting back tears, and I'm slowly failing at that too.
After my morning class, I catch the afternoon news, and they have more information about what happened. The man was a security guard, just giving two women directions when this animal comes up behind him, points a gun at his neck, and shoots him. Unprovoked. Just, boom. The man was an ex-cop, a pastor in-between churches, working 65-70 hours a week, to feed his family. And now he's gone, a wife lost her husband of 30+ years, kids lost their father, and so many people lost a friend that night, and nobody can even comprehend why. Why did this animal decide to shoot this man, execution style, at random?
I don't know why, but I grieve for him, I grieve for him every single day. I never knew the man, never even met him. Perhaps I made him coffee once, but I can't remember with all of the customers we get. But I grieve for him every single day, and for his family. People have told me not to take this so personally, but how can you not? You witness a person's death, not only a death, you witness somebody getting killed in cold blood, and you're not supposed to take that personal? I constantly think about how I could've helped save him if I had been randomly walking around at that time. I could've alerted him of the animal with the gun. Of course that means I would've been putting myself in danger, and when you're not in the situation, it's so easy to think about all of the things you could do to prevent a situation like that from happening. I was in my apartment when this happened, and I still froze, what makes me think I could've been the hero in the moment? I just wish there was something I could've done, to help that man get home to his family, and kiss his wife again.
Whenever I see his picture, he always looks so happy, he looks like he was a really kind man, somebody I really wish I had known. But all I'll ever know is how he was lying in the street, bleeding, and how awkwardly he was on the stretcher when he was going into the ambulance. I left flowers at his memorial, and I walk by them every day. I see the spot where he fell after he got shot, everyday. I look out my window, and I see it every night. I see the other security officers, surrounding his memorial, and I just want to hug them, and tell them how sorry I am.
It's been a few days now since this happened, and I still don't know how to cope. I'll have moments in the day where I'll think that I'm finally moving on from this, but I always get pulled back to that night. I'll either walk by the spot where he fell, see a security guard, or a loud sound that will scare me and make me jump. You see people die on TV all of the time, or on the news, and you never really think about how real it all is until you actually see it. After you experience something like that, your perspective of everything changes. Suddenly, the crime jokes on TV aren't so funny, seeing people die in a TV show feels more real, and your outlook on the world is completely different.
Everything changed that night the man got killed. My life will never be the same as it was, I'll never be the person I was before that night again. I know I'll move on, I know things will get better, and I'll continue to live my life. I just wish the man could've done the same.
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
When suicide hits home
Saturday morning, I went to a gun show with my dad. It was my first time going and I had a blast. My dad let me pick out a gun that he is going to get me when I finish my class and get my permit. I was having a pretty good day hanging with the old man. I sent a picture of my gun to my uncle and my mom, thinking they would be pretty interested to see what I was going to get. My uncle replied with approval, but there was no response from my mom. Now my mom isn't against guns, she has a Springfield semi-automatic herself.
I tried calling my mom later that day, but her phone was going straight to voicemail. Which was odd for her, but concluded that her battery must have died. So I called my gramps, and talked to him for a while. I needed to catch up with him a little bit, and I was also hoping to catch my mom is she was with him. But she wasn't, and my gramps said he hadn't heard from her in a few days, that's when I got worried. I sent my uncle a text, asking him if he was with her since I had been trying to get a hold of her, but he didn't reply. A few hours later I get a call from my mom, she's in the hospital, on suicide watch.
My mom moved to Michigan a few years ago, and ever since she's been there, she's been extremely upset. She can't find a yoga studio she likes (some of the yoga studios there play Eminem), it's always cloudy, and the people are grumpy. Growing up there, I understand why she was so unhappy living here. But I was hoping that she was finding a way to make it work since she wasn't talking about how much she disliked Michigan as much. Until last summer, when she told me that her doctor increased her dosage on Prozac. I tried telling her she needed to find a way to make the yoga out there work, and try to work it into her life. I even sent her a list of yoga studios in her area that she could try. But since she was driving 4 hours every weekend to see her parents, she didn't really have time for a social life.
Now before you think it's unwarranted for her to drive 4 hours every weekend to visit her parents, for the past few years, my mom has been helping my grandparents make transitions for their lives. My grandma has advanced Alzheimer's, and hasn't even recognized her own husband for a few years now. And about a year and 3 months ago, my grandpa had a heart attack and had to have a triple bypass. It was at that time, that my grandma had to move into a nursing home because my grandpa could no longer care for her. So every weekend, my mom went to visit her parents, check on her dad and make sure he was doing okay living on his own, and recovering okay, and visiting her mom to make sure she was adjusting to the nursing home okay. And also make sure the nurses in the nursing home didn't accidentally kill her, because they actually almost did a couple times.
On top of all of that, my mom hasn't been happy with her job either. There has just been a lot of dram happening that I don't really care to get into, but she hasn't been happy there either. But it's a good career, and it's allowed her to help me through school.
So when I found out my mom was in the hospital on suicide watch, I was actually devastated. I knew she was unhappy in Michigan, and I knew she had been under a lot of stress, but I had no idea it had gotten to the point where she would want to end her own life.
She was at her therapist Friday night, and just unloading everything, and basically she had reached a point where her world was just crashing down on her. And at the end of her session, the therapist told her that she could voluntarily go to the hospital or she could call the cops and make her go, because she didn't trust her to go home and not kill herself.
And since I found out about all of this I've been so down. It hurts me so much to know that my mom was hurting like that. That things had gotten that bad and she didn't let anybody know. I also felt awful because a few days before all of this, she had resolved a big fight that I was still brooding over. I live 1500 miles away from my mom, and it kills me that I can't be there for her. I can't hug her and see her and physically be there for her. They took her cell phone, so I have to wait until night time to call her to talk. And I'm just really freaked out by all of this.
It's been just my mom and I since I was 6. My brother went to live with my dad after my parents divorced, so my mom and I have been each others rock ever since. And I can't imagine my world without her in it. I understand that a day will come that my mom will pass on, that's just a fact of life. But for my mom to be so unhappy with her life that she would kill herself hurts me in ways I didn't know was possible. How do you even deal with that? How do you process your mom wanting to take her own life, and you having absolutely no idea she was suffering so much?
And ever since all of this, I haven't been able to focus on my schoolwork at all. I have due dates coming up and I can't hardly focus on reading a single sentence in my textbooks. I've tried leaning on my friends but only a couple have actually been there for me. Other's have been non-existent or they're starting to fallback more and more. So I just feel like I'm alone in this. I'm just grateful my mom's therapist saw the signs before anything bad really happened. I just really miss my mom right now. I'd give anything to see her and give her a big hug.
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