I went on a date.

He has the most books of anyone I’ve ever met.

His mind fascinates me. His heart is kind. I stayed up all night talking with him and left at nine thirty in the morning. 

And he held me and I felt safe. 

I feel joy.  A quiet, timid joy but joy nonetheless.

I’m jealous that my cousin’s birthday is in perfect alignment with National Tequila Day.

PS why the fuck is there one?

PPS not that I’m complaining. Cheers.

I received so many beautiful texts and calls today.

I really am so damn lucky.

A friend of mine said: I hope you feel the love because it’s all around you.

I hope you know it’s little things like that that mean everything.

I’m so grateful. Thank you, God. Thank you for these 35 years. I am blessed. 

I wished for my momma’s health (all kinds) this year. And for my aunt and uncle’s—and that all of them know how much I love them this year because I show it better. And I wished for my colleagues’ safety and health also in addition to that of my family. And of course for Sammie’s well-being and happiness. It was many wishes to be honest. For me I wished that I start to see a therapist and get mentally healthy because I know right now I’m not. I need help. But I do know I have a lot of love and gratitude in this heart and I do have good things I can offer to this universe. 

I love you, God. Thank you. Please watch over mommy.

I'm anxious about something in my head at pretty much every moment of the day. 

And it is perpetually draining. 

I have to stop this.

Records

Words to describe how I feel--

Stuck. Rusted. Torn. Shuttered. Useless. Withdrawn. 

A scratched record.

This is my punishment. All those nights I couldn't wait up, now I never sleep. All those feelings I never made tangible, all those unspoken words--now I'm choking on my own word vomit and drowning in my own tears. God forgive me. This pain I do not dull with drugs or alcohol. I've experienced it. I've sat with it.  But when the fuck does it end.

And why does he punish me like I've cut out the others that really fucking hurt me. What did I ever do to deserve that? What, God? I don't understand it. I don't understand. I loved him so much. 

The record catches skips and hums: love, love, love. I want to carve a hole in my chest to make it as empty as I feel.

God I try so hard. I'm so tired. I'm so tired of trying. Living hurts so much and I feel so awful and selfish saying it. But I can't sleep. And here I am crying again. And I'm just awfully tired. Please take my pain away. I've carried it with me for a very long time. 

Do you ever feel like you're missing the most family you ever felt with someone else?

Do you ever want to pick up the phone and hear my voice?

Are all these sleepless nights of heartache on my own?  Will I always be Eponine in Les Miserables?  The one who gets the best song but the girl who dies alone? 

I try being hard. Being angry. I just want you to hold me. And to hold you back. I'm so sorry for everything. 

Simply put, I love you. 

God I hate myself.  I emailed and I wish I could take it back.

At the end of the day at work, I'm the softest person ever.  In my personal life, I am angry and I am hard and I am a brick wall and I don't trust anyone.  My aunt started crying a couple of years ago and said she was worried about how angry I was and that I needed help.  And when I started dating she said this is so good, don't fuck it up.  And I did.  I didn't let him in.  I didn't trust myself.  I didn't trust anything about my happiness or the whole thing.  I didn't plan schedules with him or trips, because it wouldn't last.  I didn't want to spend time with his family or friends because they wouldn't like me.  

What the actual fuck is wrong with me.  Why do I think I deserve nothing good out of life.  I'm drunk and sad and not angry at anyone but myself.  I'm so sad.  Because I don't see a future for myself or good things.  I have so much love but so little trust for the world.  And I'm hurting an awful lot.  And I keep choosing people that hurt me more.  And it makes me sad that I think I deserve them.  

Also I simply cannot drink your damn whiskey. The first shot is fine. Then for whatever reason I feel sick and even smelling it is off-putting.

When I’m honest I miss you. And I hate myself for it. 

It's my first day of vacation and I cannot go anywhere.  I am bound to Brooklyn and I want to get the fuck out of here.  More than anything I want you to come over here for my 35th birthday and drive me anyplace.  I am drinking your whiskey angrily, so pissed at your best friend and all the fucked up shit he said, pretending to care that I was depressed.  Who fucking does that?  And how did he watch our relationship fall apart when I had no clue?  I am so angry that I wasted my fucking time.  I want someone who knows what they want, and that someone is me.  I'm so sick of liars and fucked-up families.  Assholes and idiots.

Yesterday an 18 year-old girl who went down at a party was terminally extubated without her mother or father present.  An aunt and a great aunt held her hand instead because her mother and father were too fucking selfish, it was all about their suffering and grief.  Shame on people like that.  No past medical history or anything.  And yeah, I'm fucking angry.  Why should my fellow nurse be put through that?  Thank God that child was already free from her suffering and God was already with her, but I just lost it on the train last night.  And then I started to audibly sob because of course it had been silent tears on the train but it was Sammie's birthday and he was barking, excited to see me, so I had to be in mom mode when I got home and flip my switch.  But what the fuck.  

How dare you Corie.  I didn't even like your friend that much.  But he laid it on thick and kept lying to me.  So why don't you spend your energy getting pissed at your friend and getting real with him instead of saying really fucked up, hurtful shit to my friend that I will later read?  I am not the asshole here.  I have been duped and lied to a lot.  I'm broken.  Your friend knew that.  He keeps playing the victim and keeps saying woe the fuck is him.  He's never been married or had a very long relationship, I wonder why.  Why don't you open your dumb eyes?  Just keep thinking you are better than everyone else, keep making fun of everyone else.  I hope it makes you feel better about yourself and fills whatever holes you have. 

I know I don't need you anymore.  I thought I did because you made me feel good and I felt lonely.  But I love myself and you hurt me and it's over.  I miss our friendship and laughing with you and feeling like someone understood the way I felt the way I felt about work but now I feel like you just lied about everything.  Like the only thing you didn't lie about was OCD and biting your nails, cleaning bipap machines until 0400.  You probably lied about the sex and the intimacy and wanting kids and the whole thing.  And my heart's not broken anymore.  Now it's just fucking dead on the floor.  No amount of CPR or defibrillation or epi or whatever the fuck can revive it.  It's not coming back and I don't give a fuck.  It is what it is.  I'm almost 35 and I'll never have kids and I don't care.  I can't afford them anyway alone and I'l probably die young and it is what it is.  I don't actually care anymore.  I don't wish you ill or well.  I don't wish you anything anymore.  I feel the most giant amount of apathy right now at this moment in time but I feel no depression about it.  I literally feel nothing about my own life.  

Only sadness that you act like I am crazy, like I invented the whole thing when you were the impassioned one.  I'm sorry I was scared.  I'm sorry I had been through a divorce and I was nervous.  This is why.  This is why I have trust issues.  It's fucking valid.   You were promising the moon, and you gave me fucking nothing.  You took my heart out of my chest and stomped on it and then acted like I was crazy.  Fuck you, Daniel Sain.  My birthday will be better next year but what is a birthday at this age anyway.  I loved you like crazy, I really did.  Your whiskey tastes awful in my mouth.  I wish I was tasting it in yours.  

My heart just turned eleven years old. I wished him a happy birthday and he looked a bit startled as he was relaxing on his side beside me.

The love I have for my Samson--it is something. I love you, my sweet boy. 

Sweet boy

I took care of a dying intubated baby for the past two days. I was so gentle with him. I told him I loved him all the time because his parents are not present, never call and are in the process of giving him up for adoption.

How truly devastating to be dying and up for adoption. The other nurses tease me. But I say I want him to know love in this world before the next. 

I love you my sweet Jayden. May God hold you in the palm of His hand and protect you. May your transition be peaceful and may you know soon the peace and freedom you so justly deserve.  My sweet boy. 

That migraine was a bad one. 

I threw up and had tears running down my face I was in so much pain. 

A good friend had twins a couple of days ago. She named one Caleb and I lost it last night when I found out. I was obviously over the moon for her but...

I've always wanted a Caleb and it seems less likely I'll have one of my own.

Chin up. Keep it moving I suppose 

I haven't been telling myself I love myself.

I had an eye exam today since I realized my driver's license is nearly expired and I need to renew it. Then I came home and started looking for my passport and broke my shells in the shadow box I made after I went to Sanibel with Chris. 

I want to start crying. Where the fuck is my passport? Why can't I get the hell out of Brooklyn in July and see my mom? I just want to escape. I want a little peace for Sammie's birthday and mine. 

And I'm stuck here. I need green and water and calm. And I'm so frazzled and stressed, my head is one big numb buzzing. 

I don't dream of him anymore. I had nightmares about patients crashing last night.  Today is a bad day where I want to be held by him and be told it's all going to be okay. To fuck the stress away until my head starts to clear sounds a lot better than laying here like one great void. I have so much love in this little body. And I just want someone to feel it and give it back to me. I can't write prettily because my head hurts too fucking much.