show me your war face

Nursing school has been three years of trying. Three years of bending over backwards to comply with regulations and a methodology of thinking that turns my brain into knots. It's maddedning. It makes me cry when I'm not the sort of girl who cries. It frustrates me unlike anything else. I just want to graduate and be done. But before I can get that little piece of paper that declares me capable of taking a test I need to finish 3 more months of this junk. Which is why, tomorrow, I will be meeting with the associate dean regarding my preceptorship. Preceptorship is supposed to carry some amount of prestige with it. It's an opportunity above and beyond the typical nursing school experience. And while my precepting nurse is fantastic, I am really starting to wish I hadn't signed up for it. Additional clinical hours and requirements with my full time work/full time student lifestyle are just running me ragged. Add the seemingly arbitrary and baseless grades given on weekly homework assignments and, well, it's fast becoming more of a headache than it's worth. So, tomorrow, I will take my overly exhausted self to see this instructor and tell her just what I think. I am paying for this torture and have been paying for it for years. It's time they actually pay attention to what's going on and acknowledge the reality above the theory.

just a whisper

today, well, yesterday, i was faced with two friends going through similar situations. neither of them live close enough for me to chat over a cup of coffee or something else warm and comforting, and that makes me sad. the other thing making me sad (aside from the fact that my smart phone apparently doesn't allow for capitalization of letters while blogging...) was the fact that i couldn't get myself to verbalize what i *really* thought. i said what i should have said, at least to one of them, but i couldn't say what i've wanted to say for a long time. why? why is it so hard for me to tell somebody the whispers of the quietest sort in my heart?

i'd like to think that it's because they're just silly thoughts i have complimentary of my commitaphobe tendencies, but i'm pretty sure it's more due to the fact that, while i'm doing well with my busy life, i am not yet fully alive.

but i want to be. and when i am, i want the courage to whisper out loud.