tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10374080869846769362024-02-02T14:31:04.368-08:00Everyday Mattersmarielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-49552170378296225352015-05-09T13:30:00.001-07:002015-05-09T14:34:17.305-07:00I think I over slept <div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiClJ7MzV7xfdryIZdkaatcyhQJQBGo41tN2yBCtMUPwNZla4XSnvjl7QKA8df6uG8JI8-VjoPsHQdNGU47dbRZ_Ikr4SY8AC9Fldm2BE9yVLB6-GRHgDQ_uU5aOWQMLIqL3jfbE-jTfjQ/s1600/big-eyes-lana-del-rey-bar.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiClJ7MzV7xfdryIZdkaatcyhQJQBGo41tN2yBCtMUPwNZla4XSnvjl7QKA8df6uG8JI8-VjoPsHQdNGU47dbRZ_Ikr4SY8AC9Fldm2BE9yVLB6-GRHgDQ_uU5aOWQMLIqL3jfbE-jTfjQ/s400/big-eyes-lana-del-rey-bar.jpeg" width="400" /></a>Most of us have those day when we just go deep inside, take a look at what it is, what is not, what we have, what we want, what we've accomplished, what we have not, and most of all, days in which we get a little caught on how all of that feels. They aren't necessarily bad days, one can even argue that they are not necessary days at all, but yet they happen. At least to me. I hear it far too often: "you don't have to analyze it all" or "you think too much", funny as it seems, days like those I do not think much at all, instead I get pushed up and down in a whirlwind of emotions I sometimes cannot define. Sometimes I just don't want to, to be honest.</div>
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A day, a plain and common day when I get sucked in the routine and the rushes of the hours and chores one after the other. A common day on my happy uneven weeks would go pretty much like this. The thoughts and emotions come as they please, the facts and the experiences are always rich, sometimes more, sometimes they are just devastating. </div>
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The alarm wakes me up and I look at the clock, I can't remember when I had a full night sleep, I use to look at it at one, at three, at five a.m., when I wake up, put the kettle on, take a fast shower, wake up the girls and dressed them, half asleep. I prepare their pieces of fruit to school, check the school bags, fix breakfast, comb their hair, brush their teeth and repeat over and over again that they have to hurry so we don't miss the 06:07 buss to school. I rush to work and get the day going. I tried summarizing how a day at work is, but it is not possible since however hard I tried it always looks organized on paper. It's so hard to explain! Every task is executed at the same time as two or three others. Short on staff, getting patients admitted before the other ones were discharged, having them on the couch for a few hours. That does not say much, because you cannot see them, because you have no clue that that guy on the couch waiting for the resident to discharge him has just heard that his life is fading like a candle. It really doesn't matter, because how hard I try words don't show the sadness and the desperation in his eyes, his uncertainty, his resignation, his pain. It really doesn't matter because the screams don't sound with my written words, and the wounds don't smell through the blog, and the trembling hands taking mine and begging for help do not get real for you. And all those stories of life, suffering, hope, miracles, sadness, desperation, light, love, kindness, anger, death, struggle, victory and defeat get all lost in the bureaucracy and the documentation, they slowly fade in the runs to get to the practicalities of the day done, they become the background of the problems to be solved. And so goes the day, the doctor screams and yells at me once more, he is frustrated and so am I. The relatives complain, I'm not enough, I did not do enough... they are right. And the day goes by at work, and those little words of kindness spread here and there, those warm touches, those sincere "thank you", those unbelievable caresses to the heart make it worth it, sometimes. </div>
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I run to get the girls, they are tired, they complain, they are wining, they are hungry. I make dinner, we make homework, they take their baths and the clock gets 8 p.m. We cuddle and read a story, I sing to them and kiss them good night and see how they sink in the land of dreams with those lovely tiny peaceful smiles of satisfaction on their lips and I get filled with love and pain. Pain because they won't be here next week, because the house will be quiet and alone, because I will not sing or kiss their foreheads and whisper in their ears how proud and happy I am to have them, to see them grow, to see how wonderful they are. And I go down and do the dishes in the silence, and think about the day, what I could have done better, what I did right, what that patient said, what the other meant. I think about them and their lives. I think about the responsibilities, the bills to pay, the supermarket list, the laundry, the cleaning, what I will make for dinner tomorrow, and yeah... housewife's worries, nurse's worries, mom's worries... I make a cup of tea, take a look around and sit in the darkness of the kitchen. The silence hurts, it hurts because it's there no matter what I do, it's always there.</div>
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I go upstairs and look at them in their beds, still with the tiny peaceful smiles, sleeping like angels, so innocent and so small, so pure and so perfect. I lay my head against the wall and as an unwanted tear falls down my cheek my thoughts betray me "I need a hug right now".</div>
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I pick up a book and go to bed, and as I slowly get lost in someone's words my heart aches and goes "I need a hug so much"</div>
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I thought about my mom today, when I saw the girls laughing and screaming of joy at the theme park. What would my mom think of me if she saw me? Had she ever imagine I would be the one I am now? Had she ever picture me so lonely? Had she ever imagine I would feel like I do today? Would she be proud of me? I know I'm not. I'm happy and thankful I've made it this far, I certainly am, but proud? proud I am not, pride does not fill the vacuum, it does not build bridges over the holes in my soul. I've made it this far, I've built up this life I enjoy and am thankful for but I was a dreamer, I believed in happily ever after, I thought it was true that you get what you give, I hoped and dreamed and the alarm went on and somehow I feel I've over slept.</div>
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marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-59107296812557293912015-01-09T01:56:00.000-08:002015-01-09T09:39:39.478-08:00When good intentions come out wrongYou know when you try to cheer someone up and it just gets worse? and then you try with something else and it all goes down the pipe? We've all been there, on both sides I guess. We mean so well, we don't want the other one to hurt, we have this needs inside to just take away all those troubles and crazy harmful thoughts and feelings and help them shine again. We do certainly mean so so well... but whatever we say just makes it muddier and instead of spreading the rainbow of hopes we just awaken a thunder storm.<br>
That happens to me often, I am not an easy person to cheer up, I don't think that works at all with me, it upsets me even more! I happen to feel what I feel and I am OK with that, if I am angry, I am, no need to pretend I am not, if I am sad as hell, I am, it is my fundamental right to feel whatever it is I am feeling, isn't it? My dad is one of the few people who actually gets me in a better mood, how? he just kicks my sentimental ass and hits me with the sharp and poisoned arrows of reality. And that works with me: plain, simple truth. Please do not sugar coat it! If I'm getting crap, no matter how much icing you pour on it, it won't taste any better. The thing is, I am as resilient as a little child, I get over it on my own time, dust myself off and go on, but please do not rush me through it! I forgive and forget, and when I forgive I do forgive, for real, no harm was ever done, erase and start again kind of forgiving. And if we forgive each other, do not bring that up ever again! It's gone, it's passed, it's forgiven. We messed up, we learned, we are better people now. Done!<br>
So why am I posting this? Because seriously, please I really know you all mean well, but please... do not tell me I have to take care of myself, I do that! who else otherwise? I am healthy, I am working, I keep my personal appearance as good as it gets, I am clean and well groomed, eat, sleep, look for medical advise when I need it, get over my emotional problems and set backs, enjoy life as much as I can and go on... Who does that for me? my mom? my dad? my sisters? my imaginary husband? I do that! and I am quite proud of how I do it.<br>
Focus on your kids... Don't I??? do they lack something? don't I take time to play and have fun with them? educate them about life and give them moral values? teach them right from wrong? do recreational activities with them? see that they are well dressed, clean, healthy, that they eat healthy nutritious food, that they can be kids, that they build up their sense of worth and self esteem? that they cultivate a good sibling relationship? I do all that the best I can, and every week they are not with me there is not a minute I don't think about them and feel my heart breaking to the thought that I don't see them 6 months a year. Because I don't! I miss my children six months a year! six months a year I don't get to kiss them good night, or cover them in their beds, or prepare breakfast and say good morning, or hear what happened in school, or blow on their wounds, or sing "Mary's lullaby" before the last kiss of the day... SIX WHOLE MONTHS A YEAR! please do not tell me to focus on my kids! I do that, all day long... but those six months without them I have to survive, I can't let those thoughts of despair get over me, because I have to take care of myself!<br>
Good things come to those who wait? no, not really, life sucks and if you want something you gotta pull up your socks and roll up your sleeves and work you soul out!<br>
Time heals all wounds? I am a nurse! don't come out with that please, I know exactly what happens with wounds that are not taken care of, they rotten! they get infected, they grow and eat up the flesh and bones! You have a wound? take care of it! NOW, even if you have to scrub it and brush the shit out of it with a steel brush and then pour alcohol on it! Time heals NOTHING!<br>
Everything will be fine? No! It won't, it's unrealistic to expect that! no wonder people are frustrated and disappointed all over! Everything is never fine, there are always problems and trials and crap along the way! Life is not meant to be easy, it is not meant to be perfect and all joy and laughter... Get real! shit happens, all the time! Accept it and move on...<br>
I could go on and on, but I think I've made my point... Life is not as complicated as our sentimental brain half thinks it is.<br>
Love someone: say it, show it and for the love of God do not sit like a martyr getting less than you need and deserve! Fight! And get real, love! Go for it! <br>
Miss someone: get in touch with them!<br>
Can't live without him/her: Cut the crap! of course you can!, sounds wonderful but, really? what is he/she? oxygen?<br>
It's stressful at work: Well, do what you can, fix what you can and leave the rest to whom it may concern!<br>
People treat you badly: Do not hang out with them! you teach people how to treat you, right?<br>
Want to lose weight: eat less calories than you use during the day, or use more calories than you eat, your choice.<br>
Want to eat that cookie: do it!<br>
I think I'm getting old...<br>
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<br>marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-41878095132868799952014-11-30T03:29:00.001-08:002014-11-30T03:31:25.003-08:00Christmas season has arrived<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's bee a while since I last post something, guess I didn't have much to say. No way... I always have much to say.</div>
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Christmas is coming, it's the first advent today and here i Sweden people put up the decorations and lights on their windows. Not me this year, probably during the week, when the girls are here.</div>
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I have always loved Christmas, the glitter, the tree, the ornaments, the carols, the smells, the presents, the cards and all of that. </div>
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When I got kids on my own things got even better, you probably think I am nuts, and you are most definitely right! But the Christmas stress people talk about, well, I loved it! Big time! Rushing to the stores and buying presents, wrapping them, making cards, and angels and stuff like that, spending the whole day cooking and cooking and baking and baking a little more! There is something about it that fills my spirit with joy. I guess it's all the giving, feeding loved ones, making things pretty, sharing... I really have no clue, I just loved it.</div>
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I somehow lost it last year, when I worked on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and it has not come back, I'm afraid. </div>
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Things are not always the way we wish they were, and I am good at making the best out of situations, so I'll fix a Christmas for my girls, just hope the long loved joy will come back, I have 24 days to make it happen. Ideas anyone?</div>
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marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-30825674876476173212014-06-02T14:36:00.001-07:002014-06-03T13:25:04.071-07:00Happily Ever After<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Perhaps because I am a hopeless romantic, too sentimental, a dreamer, maybe because I never seem to kill hopes completely, or because I see the good in everything even when I try to focus on the bad, or maybe because I am a control freak... maybe because of none of the above, I have been looking around, thinking, over thinking, who knows. </div>
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On my way to work today I thought about the huge difference between falling in love and being in love. I think it's not the same, although so many times we think they are synonyms. </div>
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I think they are two very, very different things. Falling in love is a matter of attraction, something catches our eyes, physical appearance, intellect, personality (or some part of the vast mixture of drags that compound it). Falling in love is strong, it's fast. It's butterflies in the stomach, is not being able to keep our hands out of each other, is passion, is thinking about the other, wondering, giving a too big space to uncertainty, to the unknown, to the expectations. Falling in love is the heart speeding up, the blood rushing to the cheeks, the involuntary smiles, the puppy eyes. It is that weird thing that makes us smile with a text message and walk into a lightning pole while reading it again and again. It's fun! Falling in love can make us wake up singing that horrendous cheesy song over and over again. Falling in love is magical, it's making believe we are about to finally get our happily ever after. It's seeing a prince, a knight, a queen, a lady.</div>
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Being in love, on the other hand, is something very different. Happily ever after is not a sparkle that keeps on and on forever more. We sometimes hope the feelings of falling in love will never fade, but they do eventually. They do fade because the surprises are over, because we don't wonder, because we don't expect, because we know. Far too many times I hear that couples break up because the sparkle is gone and I can't but wonder why is that so bad. That should be a good thing! sparkles don't last! they can't last, they are not meant to last. Sparkles are ephemeral, they are there to catch our eyes, they are there to invite us to see deeper. Sparkles are hormones rushing to our limbic system if you want it put like that. Being in love is not!</div>
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Love, the one that lasts, the one that leads to a happily ever after is something we do. Love takes time, sacrifices, compromise, nurturing, it takes a lot of work and patience. I know it is a cliche but love, real love, the kind that lasts, is no wild flower that just grows by itself among the weed. Love needs to be taken care of. I was cutting the dead pansies from my plants, so the new ones can come beautiful and strong and thought that love is a little bit like a pansy plant. We will see flowers die, disappointments come, we make mistakes, the loved one makes mistakes, we misunderstand each other, we argue, we find out differences and we face disease, trouble, economical problems, trials, routine... All that after the sparkle is gone! And I think that it is then when the time comes for us to cut the dead parts in the relationship and the dead flowers in our significant other, and nourish the good ones through forgiveness, patience, hugs, laughs. Love takes time! I think it's sad we sometimes think we have to be living in the "falling in love stage" to stay together because I think loving is so, so different!</div>
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I thought later about how I love my girls, I forgive them, I love them the same if they make a mistake, I understand them if they treat me bad sometimes, because they are learning, because I have to teach them how to treat me. I forgive them because I understand that they make mistakes and don't mean wrong, or sometimes they do, but there is always a reason beneath that anger and rage, a reason I am eager to find and understand, because I love them! We grown ups are not much different from kids, we make mistakes, we need to learn how to treat each other, we teach each other, too; we do our best and instead of being patient, loving and understanding we judge and reject. </div>
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Love takes time, sometimes it blooms into a magnificent, beautiful strong thing, sometimes it doesn't despite our efforts, but it won't grow if we don't try, it just does not build up out of nothing. Being in love is not the possessive feeling we might feel when falling in love. Being in love is, for me, caring even when angry, smiling even when in pain, being there even when we don't want to, making time for each other on the tightest schedule, going the extra mile despite being exhausted, wanting the other to be happy even when that means letting them go. Being in love is having seen deeper and accepting their imperfection, their mistakes, their screw ups. </div>
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I do believe in happily ever afters (I am that naive), and I do believe they take a lot of work, a lot of walking through the darkness and the storms without letting go of each other's hands, it takes fights, nights of not wanting to see each other, going through the rough path of life with the determination to never, ever stop nourishing each other, cutting away the dead flowers to see the pretty ones, to help them grow, to make each other better. </div>
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Some think that there is a little bit of resignation when being with someone takes hard work. I don't think so. I think that expecting a love based on the sparkle that catches our eye, on hormones set into motion, is rather foolish. But what do I know? I just think, I believe, I dream. I'm also learning. </div>
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marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-66059483541631505982014-05-18T03:01:00.000-07:002014-05-19T08:00:19.038-07:00Oh my! I'm vintage!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Some people have this theory that babies come when their time is right. They say that our spirits wait somewhere and that nobody can actually control it, maybe delay it a bit, but when a baby's time has come, it has come. I'm not so sure about that, it's more a matter of biology but if that was the case, then I really sucked at maths and made some very serious miscounts. </div>
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Last night I was out for the first time in many years. We came in, order something to drink and just looked around. Women came one after the other in dresses three sizes smaller and skirts shorter than my tank tops, really! All of them very pretty with their sparkling eyes and happy smiles of course, but why do some obsess with looking like a very unfortunate sausage? </div>
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I looked around at the guys after, what is wrong with the world? Why do people need so much alcohol to dance around and have fun? Don't misunderstand me here, I am not judging any of the people I came across with, I just don't understand them. I felt all the time like something was extremely wrong with me since I could not feel I belonged there. I am so thankful I didn't leave the girls with a nanny to go out because I wouldn't have been this calm and reflective today if I had. </div>
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I must have been born way pass the time I should have. What happened with gentlemen asking some nice questions, starting a small talk and inviting one to the dance floor? Or maybe getting closer while on the dance floor. What happened to music? Why can't I move even a little to the "pum chi, pum chi, pum chi" sound? </div>
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The thing gets worse I'm afraid. I am so, so weird it's starting to scare me and make me question my sanity. I have this retro idea of a man's courtship with smiles, dinner out, a long walk under the sunset, a dance (not a pum chi, pum chi one!), a little note, a day at the carnival or the zoo, the movies, a pic-nick in the park, opening the car door, giving the lady his coat if she is cold... I dream on courtship! I am totally insane! I try so hard to understand and somehow imitate the way things apparently are nowadays, but since I truly don't get it I end up doing things so wrong it's scary! </div>
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I'm happy I finally got myself. I am so happy I finally understood why things go so wrong for me sometimes. I am vintage! Ladies and gentlemen (if any left in the pure sense of "men of good and courteous conduct"): I quit! Society will have to deal with the fact that I am aunty Lorena, no more trying to fit in, I don't anyway! And to be honest, why do I make such an effort to fit in when I don't feel comfortable? In a way, I am trying to put myself in a dress three sizes smaller and end up looking like a very unfortunate sausage. </div>
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marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-36474727707694058682014-04-29T03:11:00.003-07:002014-04-29T23:51:58.702-07:00Breaking Beliefs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had a rough week. You know when you start asking yourself, "Ok, what on Earth can I screw up now?" Well... I had all the answers! The thing is that in most of the cases, days, weeks, months, years after and with a lot of stumbling and falling and getting up, I come up to the sad truth, "What the heck was I thinking?"</div>
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As it usually is the case when animals get hurt, humans also use to take a defensive behavior. Tears are meant to show helplessness and make us look less dangerous, when we cry we rise up the white flag -at least according to Dr. Vingerhoets, although we can't really put an end to the crying discussion- After tears, or together with them, or sometimes without them even when the heart is broken, or maybe just because of that, the defensive behavior is very commonly adopted. We hurt, we are wounded, we have been reminded of our vulnerability and weakness, we have to protect ourselves from the world. And in that stage I was all week, probably still am. </div>
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Watching House MD, my favorite TV series in the history of my life, I came to the thought that I was going to try to be like him. Not a chance I can. However, it is interesting to give this antisocial, narcissistic, brutally honest and extremely intelligent character a little place in how we see, project and interact with others by deflecting, avoiding, sugarcoating our "cruelest" thoughts and all that we do in order to function in society and getting along just fine, and in order to take "logical" decisions.</div>
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A part of this sugarcoating, deflecting, avoiding habit is our fear of hurting others, and in that hides a little bit of pride. If our feelings can hurt others, we have somehow taken us to the position in which we believe that, for the other one, we mean a lot, a whole lot! When I was doing my practice in psychiatry I had a lot of trouble getting to talk to and interacting with the patients, who were severely ill and had diagnosis like schizophrenia, borderline disorder, psychosis, and so many more. In my first evaluation I explained to the clinic adjunct what the reason to this inability to connect was, I said "I am so scared I say something wrong, or I say something in the wrong way and then I hurt them and make them get worse! How could I live with it if I put one of them in distress just because I don't watch my mouth?" She looked at me and smiled with a deep understanding of what really was going on inside of me and said "You are not that powerful. If something comes out wrong, or is interpreted the wrong way, you say I'm sorry and move on" This fear, based entirely on a belief affects our decisions, this shapes our behavior in some circumstances. </div>
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I came across this great scientific investigation about human decisions and how most of them are not based on logic, even though we swear they are. That was pretty interesting to me, it's nice to feel one is not really that much of a wacko. But why do we end up taking illogical decisions? I think the answer is beliefs! We humans need to believe! We rely on our beliefs, they are a part of who we are. I am not talking about religious beliefs only, they most certainly play a major role in how we conduct ourselves in life, but we have other beliefs which I think are stronger and more powerful than religion. Let me define "belief". A belief is <i>an acceptance that something exists or is true, especially one without proof</i>, and the key lies in the last part: without a proof! If we have a proof then we know, if we know, we do not need to believe. So in order to be a belief it has to be based on faith, trust, ideas, thoughts, imagination, call it by the name you prefer, as long as you do not know of its veracity. Just as religion can be the opium of the masses, our deep, intimate beliefs can become the "opium" in our lives. We construct a system of beliefs, we believe we are A or B, we believe that we deserve H or F, we secretly and intimately believe that we will or won't achieve our goals, get <i>where </i>we wanna get, <i>what </i>we wanna get, <i>how </i>we wanna get it. We humans rely on our beliefs and our hopes. We take decisions based on them, we get the consequences based on the decisions we make. We, in a way or another, in one or other aspect of our lives -call it romance, love, parenthood, social life, career, economy, whatever- get what our beliefs state that we will, because we work on it, because we make all those illogical decisions (so analysed, and thought over, and evaluated) based on our most intimate and private opium.</div>
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So what now? let the defensive state become one where all my beliefs are put under the microscope. </div>
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marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-11763091527096715412014-04-27T01:22:00.000-07:002015-01-09T02:27:48.847-08:00If people can't do something...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCeqp-T2pVt6GbKetnojImG_X45Gy6KfB58KnquSeMRXHzY-xLSzspT1cVP5jbkegG0WK4dmTZ41MNdTltNkdA_BzdNZYIoXN7HDtXsEPu37GMc7wWVeeK_LYa12jCzYiMrepT9PC9XTA/s1600/images+(4).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCeqp-T2pVt6GbKetnojImG_X45Gy6KfB58KnquSeMRXHzY-xLSzspT1cVP5jbkegG0WK4dmTZ41MNdTltNkdA_BzdNZYIoXN7HDtXsEPu37GMc7wWVeeK_LYa12jCzYiMrepT9PC9XTA/s1600/images+(4).jpg" /></a></div>
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My dad i s a very wise man, sometimes his wisdom can be mistaken for cruelty, specially when you haven't come as far as he has in the way of life. He is a kind man, the nicest man I've met. Never saving nothing, everything for his family, he gave everything to my mom, to us. No phone call is too late in the night or too early in the morning, it's never too much of a mess to pick up someone with the car or drive someone somewhere, it never takes too much of an effort to help someone. He saves nothing, he's a giver. But he's wise and as much as I, the rebel daughter in the middle, wishes to prove him wrong, he hardly is.</div>
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He used to say: "If people can't do something, they shouldn't do it" Hearing that as a little girl stopped me from fighting and trying and making my best effort in, for example, sports. It put a tremendous pressure on me for getting things right, specially if I enjoyed them. It got me a little screwed up, to be honest. He never meant wrong, and now I know what he was talking about all this time. </div>
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As I grew up my desires to prove my dad wrong grew stronger, being the stubborn butt I am. I tried to do things I sucked at, over and over again. I didn't get any better. I have spend time collecting a bunch of experiences that could prove his theory wrong. I have been cursed with a sensitive heart, a very developed right hemisphere, feeling way too much empathy, reading people's body language to the minimum detail, feeling the unity and energy around me in a very strong way. At the same time, my left hemisphere, the analytic, logical one, steps in and tries to decode all those impressions with<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> the scientific method. So I analyse, over analyse, think it over, make experiments, connect all those impressions as they were numbered dots in a kid's activity book so I can get the picture clear. You can't make logic out of feelings! One of my hemispheres has to die! When the right one is in charge, people take me for a stupid Barbie girl, when the left one takes command, people take me for an insensitive, arrogant, know it all. Why am I not seen as the complex screwed up human being that I am? </span></div>
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I have been looking back at my life since last Tuesday afternoon. People shouldn't do what they can't do. I can study, studying is easy! You read, you remember. As simple as that! You don't know something, you look for it in a book and you learn it! Science is easy, you don't need to feel, you don't need to deal with emotions, you only need to connect factual dots. I am good at that!. So I am going to do what I'm good at, and I'm going to hit the books again. No University because I can't afford it, but some day I'll get my PhD in medical science. </div>
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I can cook, I can craft, I can give and serve. I'll do that then, no emotions attached. Giving your life away can be such a distraction! </div>
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If people can't do something, they shouldn't do it, and not being able to do something is no reason for being unhappy. Get happy with what you are, enjoy what you can do, see the good in that, just stop trying so hard to make up the life you can't get. Get real!</div>
marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-4131216599753837482014-04-25T08:48:00.001-07:002014-04-28T07:41:46.553-07:00You get what you give... or you don't.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6gU4fMZgZXZqQlPKVP9QMjrmHmlAHTNDv9TcgNaaSjgW35ZAHjr54R4JumMoGswuU3YQ6Iqd8rpb0mPtAJ_06E72lfFxee6udu-DUqCRIwZzkcOoEl8SmUNd1ckq7G0OrXOHdPapfXo/s1600/giving+and+taking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6gU4fMZgZXZqQlPKVP9QMjrmHmlAHTNDv9TcgNaaSjgW35ZAHjr54R4JumMoGswuU3YQ6Iqd8rpb0mPtAJ_06E72lfFxee6udu-DUqCRIwZzkcOoEl8SmUNd1ckq7G0OrXOHdPapfXo/s1600/giving+and+taking.jpg"></a></div>
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When lighting strikes, darkness vanishes and it is usually a good thing. Light is a good thing. What is not so good is to have the lightning striking right on you. </div>
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I have heard almost all about me, according to people I am weird; funny; nerdy; goofy; intellectual; mature; serious; strong; stubborn; temperamental; a sweet spirit; a good friend; too innocent; a good human being; jealous; needy; a very nice, considerate person; a control freak; a perfectionist; a woman with low self esteem; a confident woman; a happy go lucky, restless soul; the typical "girl next door", and oh so many things! So many flattering things! </div>
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It is also flattering to hear all this empathetic and nice people in my life telling me that I deserve a loving, romantic relationship, someone who appreciates me, takes care of me and stays with me for better or for worse, a friend, a true companion. It is so sweet of them trying to cheer me up, give me hopes and assure me that of course I will get all that some day, because those who wait for something good never wait too long and someone like me sure deserves all that, and even more. </div>
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Didn't get that wonderful love story so far, won't ever have it. Do I think I deserve a nice, loving man who gives me all I've ever wanted and who treats me with dignity and respect? You bet I do! Here's the catch: <i>People get what they get. It has noting to do with what they deserve</i>.</div>
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Will I change who I am? NO. People don't change. I will still be nice, loving and caring. I will still be cheerful and taken for a dumb, innocent, easy to fool pink and glitter loving hallmark girl. </div>
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Do I feel angry, sad, lonely, unhappy, miserable, disappointed maybe? The truth is I feel nothing. </div>
marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-16089589327023723612014-04-16T13:54:00.001-07:002014-04-16T13:54:55.925-07:00Easter<div style="text-align: justify;">
My dad brought some Easter eggs molds when he was here, and I was so hoping I could finally make chocolate eggs to give away this Easter. I'm afraid there won't be any, not this year either. I have chosen a profession that requires me to work on holidays, weekends, stay later if needed, go to lessons and courses on free days. I sometimes think I have been selfish, choosing my vocation over a normal job where I can be with my own. I surely have, but how could I ever feel this complete without caring for so many? How could I feel satisfied and challenged and this happy if I hadn't the chance to comfort, ease, cure, calm, listen, help, give...? I once heard an old, cold man say that even charity is based on selfish motives, maybe it's true.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWrrzFOsa6VwdiToMvF4JqIJXQyY01Pjw325XEdhoJwhab3qK937CtzlxXEIsEGy6g4THUVEHbbIfF6slSbVSwChIuzPtjryV2u5OVFVqjd5TJpr6rkm7FiCJToM4XYtg7p-6g8Qulw_g/s1600/10155794_10203920551397634_1370328850246487688_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWrrzFOsa6VwdiToMvF4JqIJXQyY01Pjw325XEdhoJwhab3qK937CtzlxXEIsEGy6g4THUVEHbbIfF6slSbVSwChIuzPtjryV2u5OVFVqjd5TJpr6rkm7FiCJToM4XYtg7p-6g8Qulw_g/s1600/10155794_10203920551397634_1370328850246487688_n.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And there will be no eggs this Easter.</td></tr>
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It was a bad day today, those come a little here and there and they are also over, like everything else. It started with a text message from a stranger at 6:15 am. We finally sent each other texts like for two hours. It was weird! After trying with every trick we both came up to, this poor guy suggests that I call the number I was trying to text and see if the problem was on iMessenger or the number. I got to the right person, but the texts kept coming to this unfortunate soul who woke me up 6:15 to say "good morning! who are you?" All very funny, but maybe not so much when your trust is put under a question mark.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih0yV5rJT4Yhs1uOk9JBIQaEbuupJABuU2sNPspPg8iZEvj4nKGPSyx_WWTfaMavrF3Vzp3vm2pfMasoGdgChjRQwpR95SnTF0KJgOBJVyvX-MnMQgX4RW7emEUH6ylwSgZneC66ehRTE/s1600/images+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih0yV5rJT4Yhs1uOk9JBIQaEbuupJABuU2sNPspPg8iZEvj4nKGPSyx_WWTfaMavrF3Vzp3vm2pfMasoGdgChjRQwpR95SnTF0KJgOBJVyvX-MnMQgX4RW7emEUH6ylwSgZneC66ehRTE/s1600/images+(3).jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You stupid little thing!</td></tr>
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I talked to my girls later, they were happy, they were fine and it made me smile all the way to work. It made me miss them so much it hurt, too ,but I didn't say it, I didn't show it, I couldn't... The last thing want to do is to make them feel that they are responsible for my well being, they can't have such a role, and I have to grow stronger and braver and be fine without them, and probably even hurt until I get used to it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5b25FtQNyzJT7PRiUdOVUmWhom7b6R1qftPialkyqM7FXdgFUXf_M2iYaCvBePINLl5e9VrjIvH_lZ8GzyGBKZkerG5EVxOTyVRmA8A43bqZdTeXEBKsahOhpB2fQ3zW2J_W2ORWFytw/s1600/10152485_10203920812684166_6316648983768162476_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5b25FtQNyzJT7PRiUdOVUmWhom7b6R1qftPialkyqM7FXdgFUXf_M2iYaCvBePINLl5e9VrjIvH_lZ8GzyGBKZkerG5EVxOTyVRmA8A43bqZdTeXEBKsahOhpB2fQ3zW2J_W2ORWFytw/s1600/10152485_10203920812684166_6316648983768162476_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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It was hard at work, one of those days when I can't hold my poker face no more and just show how sensitive I really am. I don't like that, everybody at work tells me how strong I am, how much I fight, how well I cope. Today I didn't care that much though. I wish I was the "iron nurse", the "iron mom", the "Iron Lady" but I'm not. It was really hard working all afternoon after, but I did, one has to do what one has to do. I got disperse every now and then, back to the poker face, deep breath and the day was over.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEdmyYh3GcLwPetxiYCjFzJEhyphenhyphen9VsfRug8G4NaylKOVs7qoMIFf9ejon9l9aoU0Pr_JpLqu-NxMKB_ITrPEEh9nQOLOp6F9GLwB32B7VTD6yFmlqaZC8HXr92IJxRvRdrbZL18dYzHTaY/s1600/candle_rose.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEdmyYh3GcLwPetxiYCjFzJEhyphenhyphen9VsfRug8G4NaylKOVs7qoMIFf9ejon9l9aoU0Pr_JpLqu-NxMKB_ITrPEEh9nQOLOp6F9GLwB32B7VTD6yFmlqaZC8HXr92IJxRvRdrbZL18dYzHTaY/s1600/candle_rose.bmp" height="133" width="200" /></a></div>
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Easter... isn't Easter about death and resurrection? Maybe I could think about that once again, like I used to, and believe and raise up stronger, braver, smarter. I think I better go study now. Studying is such a break for my thoughts! </div>
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marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-45142943832128165992014-04-09T14:11:00.001-07:002014-04-09T14:17:52.282-07:00Some people<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePpMdJ0x-xF2Q5Mmv2mNWNi0-JRsjgcPC21sX7zmDE0ksO_T6Qjp1Edd_LWZFcyMLwIbEP_8NFC1kORIya9FJtEdi5jS5E3juZaQzD0nmK3-gM9f12mDz10h2M_g_APvM9o3AuYBsoNg/s1600/helping-hands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePpMdJ0x-xF2Q5Mmv2mNWNi0-JRsjgcPC21sX7zmDE0ksO_T6Qjp1Edd_LWZFcyMLwIbEP_8NFC1kORIya9FJtEdi5jS5E3juZaQzD0nmK3-gM9f12mDz10h2M_g_APvM9o3AuYBsoNg/s1600/helping-hands.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
I don't think I have so much to tell when it comes to what happens around here. The truth is that life hands out a little bit sugar, a little bit hot chili sauce, a little honey, a spoon of something really bitter (I can't come up to anything but bile right now, but I can't imagine someone having a spoon of it) sometimes even two or three spoons of something really bitter!, and if you really try, you might even find an M&M somewhere along the way. So that is basically what I have been through, eating my spoons and trying to get over the yucky stuff. </div>
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I am feeling good, I have so much energy compared to a few weeks ago. I wanna do things, I actually do them! I don't feel like crying over nothing anymore, I even put on make up, and want to go get me some clothes, and I feel alive! The clothes thing is starting to become a major necessity to this point since I struggle to find something to put on. No, no, no! Do not think I am one of those who has a full closet and says she has nothing to wear just because she can't make up her mind. Please be fair! 80 % of my clothes I bought over two years ago, really! I don't like going shopping for myself, it's a pain in the neck. First I see something I like, then I see the price tag and it's a "heck no!" Or I just don't find anything! I have no clue what to buy! Then I gotta take the girls with me because I am never ever free from work without my girls and I don't have someone to take care of them while I go spend lots of money on myself, or out for a fun night with friends, or the doctor's appointment... So they come with me and Olivia will eventually get all cranky and bored, and impossible while Emily hands me out night dresses to which I have to say no. First because I don't go out at night! When would I wear a night dress? Second because they wouldn't suit me, and third because I don't go out at night, or in the evening, or at noon! So well, I hate buying for myself! Sometimes I think all this phobia for buying clothes has a little bit to do with not being able to pamper myself. I want to, I really want to stop putting myself last, I just don't know how. I wish I could but whenever I try I either spend hours justifying such a wimp or convincing myself that I really needed it and am worth it. I miss the way my mom spoiled me! </div>
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Anyway, I was thinking a little about people and how they affect us even when we don't know it. Some people have this ability to make us feel guilty even when we haven't done anything. Others can make us feel we're never enough. Others, on the other hand, make us want to be better by seeing the good in us, they accept us the way we are and at the same time inspire us to get healthier, wiser, smarter, happier, stronger. I have been thinking about this wonderful kind of people in my life and couldn't pin point what it is they do, maybe they don't really do anything in particular, but it happens that I feel inspired and uplifted by them. </div>
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I hope I am one of those people, one who shows my friends that I accept them for what they are, that I love them for what they are, that I truly, sincerely and honestly wish for their happiness and well being and at the same time give them the desire to be the very best they can because they know I see the good in them. And if I'm not, then I wish with all of my heart that I learn how.</div>
marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-78554785623763113182014-04-02T14:51:00.001-07:002014-04-03T03:13:41.746-07:00Forget-me-not<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS5MOqEsFFNvDmWUH2YISNfRuYbz_oQwEdmxIvTyE418t6RJgN9bsfBr9AbkjDL3m5lVZby1SUywQtdETSNBfFhgQ_1ZxFBazEF0aNQ02VS3eJ8Zx1YHTSM9Oo-e0a3sJuz8j4sWNvp7k/s1600/297-052-copy5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS5MOqEsFFNvDmWUH2YISNfRuYbz_oQwEdmxIvTyE418t6RJgN9bsfBr9AbkjDL3m5lVZby1SUywQtdETSNBfFhgQ_1ZxFBazEF0aNQ02VS3eJ8Zx1YHTSM9Oo-e0a3sJuz8j4sWNvp7k/s1600/297-052-copy5.jpg" height="256" width="320"></a></div>
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The other day I walked through town and saw that they have planted forget-me-not in the flower beds of the park. I thought it was rather peculiar since I had never found them in any store and I have certainly looked for them.</div>
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Later that weekend, talking about plants and favorite flowers with a dear friend (mine are white lilies and forget-me-not) I told the story about these tiny, insignificant, blue, five petaled flowers that grow a little bit everywhere. </div>
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When I was in kindergarten my mom used to pick me up and we walked home and talked and played. Everyday in the spring I would pick up a bunch of forget-me-not and give it to my mom. She would keep them all day long and every time I gave them the flowers she would say "Loli, forget-me-not". She used to say they were one of her favorite flowers, but I never knew if they really where one of her favorites or it was the fact that I picked those up for her every day on our private way from school what she actually loved.</div>
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As I was looking for a picture for this post I found a page where someone says that this tiny simple flowers come to alleviate the feelings of absence, abandonment and loneliness that we might feel by the loss of someone in our lives. I loved it, because I love the flower and because it will always bring the memories of my childhood and my beautiful mom. I loved it because it made me think that it is those simple, unnoticed little things around us that indeed have the power to ease the pain of goodbyes, of letting go, the pain of having lost someone, the heartache, the sorrow.</div>
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So this is why I love forget-me-nots, although they are wild, small, simple and probably insignificant flowers, for me they are one of the most beautiful. </div>
marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-61192492169432827442014-03-25T04:23:00.000-07:002014-03-25T23:14:37.792-07:00How much, how long?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nPqXY1-d0mHDhS1lz0o9ecPcKN0WjCaony3Mamf-ttu17inicqSEV2slIlpUKEFA55KcjbP62DkNpIrGyLOpj5qdrwuA6YglqkfVe6e8YmLIelXFAsmKkCXmVPrCH8fbDn5_uBRRAa4/s1600/man-in-the-darkness-green.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nPqXY1-d0mHDhS1lz0o9ecPcKN0WjCaony3Mamf-ttu17inicqSEV2slIlpUKEFA55KcjbP62DkNpIrGyLOpj5qdrwuA6YglqkfVe6e8YmLIelXFAsmKkCXmVPrCH8fbDn5_uBRRAa4/s1600/man-in-the-darkness-green.jpg" height="240" width="320"></a></div>
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Up with you head, smile, stand strong, be nice, be happy, be thankful, fight, don't give up. believe in yourself, do not give up hopes, don't quit trying, don't whine about it, don't waste your tears. You are stronger than you think, God gives the hardest battles to His best soldiers... Believe, be strong, be of good cheers, count your blessings...</div>
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How long? How long must one stumble in the dark? How long until one can rest? How much more? How much? </div>
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I'm none of those things! I have none of those things! I can none of those things! But what choice does one have? So up again, and smile and fight, however broken, however weak, however tired, however alone... Up again, mend yourself, help yourself, cheer yourself up, cry you own tears and dry them after.</div>
marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-55609776732351026472014-03-19T07:19:00.000-07:002014-03-19T11:29:59.813-07:00What if...<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7uFmMTqmyd5QCkfNlBXrhYxoKg6nk1T7NUIpA1HIz0J9h5Whmxk1PKQrmP45CCowBQllnpT5qToRAgxwc7IPdVnty62XXFagrTWemq4LGJnbbvy2dcDOH3oCyqIlIDC9oP_mOBMjrZo/s1600/images+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7uFmMTqmyd5QCkfNlBXrhYxoKg6nk1T7NUIpA1HIz0J9h5Whmxk1PKQrmP45CCowBQllnpT5qToRAgxwc7IPdVnty62XXFagrTWemq4LGJnbbvy2dcDOH3oCyqIlIDC9oP_mOBMjrZo/s1600/images+(1).jpg" height="310" width="400" /></a></div>
<i>What if we wake up tomorrow only with the things we were thankful for today? </i></div>
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Some of the things I have always admired about my grandma Rosa are her gratitude, her good cheers, her positive attitude about life, her hope so endless!!</div>
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Now, she had a very hard life, working since the age of 7 and all the way till over 65. She has always been poor, she has never had a vacation, her life was not a fairy tale, but she seemed to be always living her "happily ever after". </div>
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"Lorena, you have to sing, and dance and laugh. You have to have faith because life is so wonderful, so beautiful. You have to thank God and Life for all you have and be happy!" I still hear her sometimes, with her soft Italian accent.</div>
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And she was right, she is right! I used to think "How on earth is she so optimistic and positive, and so happy! She has no reason to be so, her life has been so hard, she has nothing, she still works at 68 for minimum wadges, she doesn't own a house, or an apartment, she has no savings... She has no reason to be this happy and like life so much! </div>
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She probably hadn't, if you measure life like I did, but she was right and I would like to be like her. I think the key lays in what we care about, how much of the good we have we honestly get to see, and how comfortable we are in our own skins. </div>
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I used to dislike myself, I saw myself in the mirror and thought I was no way near attractive. I constantly focused in what I was not, I was not tall enough, not skinny enough, didn't have lips full enough, eyes bright enough, my skin was not flawless, my boobs were not big enough, my butt was not firm enough... the list goes on and on and on... I didn't look like Catherine Zeta Jones, or Cameron Diaz, or Julia Roberts, or whoever. I saw myself as a body that was far too imperfect, I was a body with a soul, a hidden one. I grew up, or got hit by life or who knows what happened... But I feel good with how I look, I know that all of those things I saw in me before are still there (that and the fact that things fall a little with age), and I feel so good to be me! I don't see myself as the world's most beautiful woman, I don't see myself as ugly either... I just don't see myself on those terms anymore. I see myself as a soul with a body, a body to hug my kids, a body to work and care for others, a body healthy enough as to take me through the days and nights, a body to be able to sense, to feel, to taste, but most of all, a body that allows me to give. And suddenly, life became so much better!</div>
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I get overwhelmed by problems sometimes, failures, trials, other people's attitudes... well, yeah, things bother me, and sometimes a heck of a lot! So I burst! I cook inside and get all nervous and cranky and angry. So, so angry!! I get frustrated sometimes, because the person I want to be, well.. I am not, yet. And I have this idea that I have to do it all, to endure it all, to fix it all, and I set my goals up to the moon and try to reach them with a ladder and it doesn't work and I deflate, and cry, and cry myself to sleep and forget that I am human. But the moment comes, like this one, when I remember my grandma and ask myself the question "what if you wake up tomorrow with only the things you were thankful for today?" and I start thinking about that, my girls, my family, my friends, my accomplishments, my home, my job, my colleagues, my health, my past, my mistakes, my trials... </div>
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I don't have much, maybe... no car, no house of my own, no savings, no vacations, not a decent wardrobe, not so many furniture pieces, not as many home appliances, not a lot of make up, not a lot of food... But I do have enough, I am not in need of anything! the things I don't have I don't need, I'm doing just fine without them. And when I think a little more I realized I wouldn't be happier if I had them. So I am thankful for having what I have, and being who I am. I would probably like to share my life and have someone to grow old with, since many times I wonder who would I give as "nearest family member" if I have to get hospitalized... Sick thought but hey! that is my everyday... and every time I get an admit and I ask them that question it pops up in my head "G, you are really screwed!" But I don't need someone to make me happy, I don't. I would, although, like to have a special someone to share my happiness with, and my life, and my love.</div>
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And I go on with my list of things I am thankful for, and then I sing a little, and then I try to be gentler with myself, because of course things get hard, things are horrible sometimes!, I am so alone from time to time, I feel so unprotected, so defenseless, so scared, so lonely. We all do! And it's fine, it's beautiful anyway. </div>
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So if I woke up tomorrow only with those things I am thankful for today.. well, life will be pretty much the same. </div>
<br />marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-35772257714724232822014-03-17T09:54:00.000-07:002014-03-19T15:23:50.967-07:00Spread it Around<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-xYip6WgVYobkwp4ZbSz21mQa4pqPQtzn34wS8fUOAUgrzUMHK_um64T4mkgaG0KeCYKW6BBgJKu2Ejlmtv1LXA2xcQ5YPqbCi3z0mLcQxs8CotPX47CzxXsSmbec-UBX0AF77RDbgU/s1600/047873aefa58363297c9fd2e6a9740d3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-xYip6WgVYobkwp4ZbSz21mQa4pqPQtzn34wS8fUOAUgrzUMHK_um64T4mkgaG0KeCYKW6BBgJKu2Ejlmtv1LXA2xcQ5YPqbCi3z0mLcQxs8CotPX47CzxXsSmbec-UBX0AF77RDbgU/s1600/047873aefa58363297c9fd2e6a9740d3.jpg" height="282" width="320"></a></div>
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I was on Pinterest last night when eating at work. I scrolled down on quotes and got caught by the photo of an old lady who was dressed as though she attended a funeral. I don't know who came up to that, I have no clue if it actually happened, but I liked it so much!</div>
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March is not a very happy month since 2010. In fact, in March 2010 I lived the worst moment in my life so far. Every March I remember my mom a little extra, if that is even possible. The first year without her was so hard!, then it became less of a struggle, but a lot of emotions run through my mind when remembering one of the most important people in my life, the way she left, the fact that I wasn't there holding her hand, the way I almost could hear my heart bursting into smithereens with the worst text message in my life. But I don't want to remember her like that anymore, it doesn't feel fair. I want to celebrate her, celebrate her life, become more like her, keep my love for her alive and not as a memory.</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ChEuwxLvtKeZlk-bDpinky9T10ruJ3wmLioXW2rX4yLq7LaZssZMyisgUXcvKEjm3OQ0N7virbD7p3w5edow_BZvv8YQIR_RfItKV1jlDRdP94QcOnTwJdS7ZsrS_HGY503ydsOvuW8/s1600/45829_1598542086925_2097985_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ChEuwxLvtKeZlk-bDpinky9T10ruJ3wmLioXW2rX4yLq7LaZssZMyisgUXcvKEjm3OQ0N7virbD7p3w5edow_BZvv8YQIR_RfItKV1jlDRdP94QcOnTwJdS7ZsrS_HGY503ydsOvuW8/s1600/45829_1598542086925_2097985_n.jpg"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My beautiful mom, 19 years old</td></tr>
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And so I saw this picture yesterday night, when the ward was in silence and I was starting to get double vision and shaking related to hypoglycemia. </div>
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It goes like this, an old lady asked her husband, who was dying "How am I supposed to live without you?" to what the man answered "Take the love you have for me and spread it around"</div>
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OK, at the beginning my Daria brain went all like "Do you expect anyone to believe that a love like that exists, or existed? and on top of that was reciprocal?" then I thought it over, just because we have never owned a Ferrari doesn't mean they don't exist, and that there are no people who actually have one. Then I went over the cynical, negative phase I was into, probably the hunger... and thought that even if that was not true, even when that probably never happened, I liked it, and that's what I so much want to do to keep my mom alive. </div>
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We can't love everybody, that is not human, or I can't I wouldn't know... But you actually don't need to love <i>love </i>someone to make acts of love and caring. I don't think we need to love everyone we encounter in a personal level, but we can express love anyways, love and respect for life, for freedom, for their authenticity, for their being.</div>
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I sometimes hear that we are in our rights to treat those who treat us badly, the same way; but that's not what my mom taught me, she taught me that I am expected to treat people like I have to, not like I think they deserve, because the moment I think they deserve this or that, I am judging them and condemning them. </div>
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So even when I am not the female version of Jesus, nor the very virgin Mary, even when I am not even close to Laura Ingalls, I will keep learning from my mistakes and I will keep treating people the way I have to, and I will try to take the love I have for my mom and spread it around.</div>
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I am not perfect, I am not good, I am not a good example in oh so many ways! And I am so sorry for all those times I hurt, and all those times I make people disappointed, and all those times I feel sorry for myself, and all those times I am ungrateful, and overreact, and get so mad I say things I don't feel, and all those times people think I don't care, and all those times I contaminate others with my insecurities... I truly am sorry! It takes a lifetime to learn how to live. </div>
marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-74737758542229063722014-03-15T11:50:00.001-07:002014-03-17T00:17:27.370-07:00It takes a village.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7edggl3t7CDr0fYe_-T_NMmC3szuokKN6FpmHDPHcw7D1lSDsykdEQRx67ywM_AXnyyUt11ry0RQzi3gZp7x4TN3rgv37BVJYAhoinDylRRXZw2WSvLfxn68RIYHzm9ovSIqZbETZe44/s1600/8b0f3c44752b0ef4d26ef213deb854c5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7edggl3t7CDr0fYe_-T_NMmC3szuokKN6FpmHDPHcw7D1lSDsykdEQRx67ywM_AXnyyUt11ry0RQzi3gZp7x4TN3rgv37BVJYAhoinDylRRXZw2WSvLfxn68RIYHzm9ovSIqZbETZe44/s1600/8b0f3c44752b0ef4d26ef213deb854c5.jpg" height="320" width="228"></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> Here I am, I'm supposed to be studying but it's a big step forward not to be doing a spring cleaning, as I usually do when I feel the pressure rising. I am surprisingly not sad, not gloomy, not tired to the bone marrow, despite having worked a very stressful night and getting 4 hours sleep after that. I am, on the other hand, writing this while listening to Bryan Adams, blame it on the hormones. We girls are so lucky to have a valid biological excuse to stuff like this!. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I got my schedule for next month, I am going back to the day shift! It feels so good! I am sad also because I really like my co-workers. They are fun to be around with and we have it nice together. I laugh so bad when they talk to me and I say "aha..." and they see I am far far away in my own little world. They know I am not that normal but it's OK, at least it's OK for me. Working night is great in many ways, since we are only three in the whole ward we get to talk a lot more, we are also responsible for patients in a very different way, one dangerous change in breathing, pulse or whatever and we are alone, we gotta react and do it fast until the doctor, one to the whole house, makes it into place. We learn to trust each other and help each other in a more intimate way, after all, we are almost all we have for the next 10 hours. I like it, I would like to stay if it wasn't because my body and my mind can't stand it anymore. That makes me sad, too, finding out that although I can adapt, I can't do it all. I thought I was going to be able to do it, it kinda sucks confronting one's limitations but it's always good to know them. I know for sure now, I can't handle working nights for a long period of time, not alone with two young kids at least.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">With the change of shift come a lot of practicalities to solve and organize, the hardest of them all is how to drop the girls in school and day care with no buses that early in the morning (which was the only reason I took the night shift to begin with), but I'll make it, we'll make it somehow. It might be hard for a while but at least we are having better weather now and it's light in the morning. We'll work it out. The days at their dad's and with me have to be organized as well, and maybe getting a nanny sometimes... It comforts me to think that I am not the only single mom working shifts with no relatives near and if others made it, I will. It is said it takes a village to raise kids, I didn't know how true that was until now. I might not have a village, but I'll find a way. </span></div>
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<br>marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-473055161585253032014-03-06T06:58:00.000-08:002014-03-07T06:23:43.621-08:00No shortcuts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlE0KFBmXQ_GDgajQnCzf2S79y5ejj5va5lSxRNNfhiFQokfa19BIaA47Ejw8rTCvP7fleKSg1BYdIA2Ns6g_NRJJMaAAyRxeTIobfUEthUzW2_WmHy577RcxyirN4FvK7hMjJEGHqMN4/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlE0KFBmXQ_GDgajQnCzf2S79y5ejj5va5lSxRNNfhiFQokfa19BIaA47Ejw8rTCvP7fleKSg1BYdIA2Ns6g_NRJJMaAAyRxeTIobfUEthUzW2_WmHy577RcxyirN4FvK7hMjJEGHqMN4/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
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One of the hardest lessons in my life has been, and still is, I'm afraid, learning to allways choose what I want the most over what I want now. We live in a society that is constantly bombarding us with slogans like "carpe diem" and "YOLO" as excuses to live by our impulses. In some respects it is easier for us to stay focused, but when what we want the most is uncertain and filled with wondering and doubt, keeping our sight ahead and continuing unmovable in our path can become more difficult. </div>
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As everyone on earth I have doubts, insecurities, "issues". Resolving them and dealing with them can take a lot of work and effort, hours of reflexion, meditation and introspection. Since we cannot change what we don't acknowledge -and I borrow that from Dr Phil- becoming self sure and determined can result in a painful trip. When faced with these aspects of myself at the same time I am presented the opportunity to choose between <i>what I want now</i> Vs <i>what I want most</i>, it is no surprise that I stumble and trip and follow the slogan: "you only live once". Well, that's so true, we only live once, then, shouldn't that be a reason for us to stop before taking the cake instead of the bakery, when we really want the bakery, even with all the work it will take? If we only live once, why settling for less than what our souls truly want?</div>
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In my case is doubt, what if I am not worthy of what I really want? What if what I really want is a fantasy, an illusion, an impossible, unrealistic dream? What if I do all things right and I don't get it? I am ambitious, I am stubborn, I have to get what I want, preferably right now if not yesterday; no problem is so big I can't solve it, sometimes alone, sometimes with help, sometimes with a lot of bleeding and crying and bruising. I am not a coward, in fact I am a bit of a confrontational woman, even when most of the times I regret it one second after, get insight of what I just did and shake to my inner core. That would be when I secretly panic and go "crap, crap, crap... why can't I just shut up?" Those qualities come quite handy sometimes, but others, when I can't foresee the outcome, when I don't know what's next, when I believe someone's words telling me I have unrealistic expectations and far too high standards, when I'm told I will never have what I wish for in my heart, when I let myself get discouraged... Those times I choose what I want now. </div>
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There is a high integrity on those who don't, a strong sense of security and a great power. Some people would stop and get away before is too late, not usually my case, unfortunately.</div>
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I have such an admiration for those people, I feel so blessed when I encounter someone who has the guts to take a step back, make an U-turn and go to square one to start all over, or never take that path again, ever. One thing I would like to teach my girls is that they don't have to settle for less in case they don't find what they desire and deserve, I would like to teach them that for the things that are good, and worthy and rewarding in life, there are no shortcuts. I would like to be able to teach them that it is OK not knowing when or how or if the things they want will come, but that is no reason to make less of themselves.</div>
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The one thing that I have learned, -and I better did- is that sometimes we choose poorly, we get on the stream and tell ourselves "oh come on, you only live once, it won't kill you" and we do something very, very stupid, but we have the chance not to do it again, and doing something stupid does not necessarily mean we are stupid. So in my many years I have learned that some of the things I wanted now were not even worth the try, so I didn't and won't do them again, some seemed to be a faster and more effective way to get what I wanted most, but no, no shortcuts to things of value so instead I ended up losing my chance to get it right, maybe my only chance in life. As for the things I want the most... well, I have succeded with quite a few, to the point of being able to consider myself a happy, blessed, thankful person. The other things, those I still don't have I will probably never get if I keep choosing what I want now just because I'm scared I'll end up with no bakery, not even one cake. So I will have to be confrontational with my fears and insecurities, even if I get panicky and go "Oh my, Oh my what am I going to do now?". For now I can only say that I am thankful and feel so blessed and I'm so happy to meet people braver than I am who inspire me with their integrity and dignity, and maybe tell them that I truly wish they knew how much they teach me and how much I appreciate them. </div>
marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-7466491003288726352014-03-01T06:13:00.002-08:002014-03-01T09:31:44.400-08:00March 1st<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-E3o6sKb16brC9N_VeeYaeg4KsRxZPbEVcXi88vXfeXf9G1DXwufMBVGKU0G4fMTX50JyemBTUdC-mO6m_p5Nv9abIfojpAWjoCqcuRaJVABslY1GnO_oDEPsLtng3f8ajlNpF8eYOo/s1600/66346_1665074030182_6558329_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-E3o6sKb16brC9N_VeeYaeg4KsRxZPbEVcXi88vXfeXf9G1DXwufMBVGKU0G4fMTX50JyemBTUdC-mO6m_p5Nv9abIfojpAWjoCqcuRaJVABslY1GnO_oDEPsLtng3f8ajlNpF8eYOo/s1600/66346_1665074030182_6558329_n.jpg" height="177" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's cloudy and hazy and as I look through the kitchen window I get invaded by thoughts and questions I don't want to ask myself, not now, maybe not ever. The yellow bricks look pale and dingy, the dirty sand of the playground, lonely, quite. The swings are still and abandoned as though not even the wind would want to go swing on them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I woke up early. The inability to sleep daytime is getting more and more disturbing. The lack of sleep sets my thoughts in an "poetic" mood. I was almost certain I had grown away from it, from the phase when I looked at the world as though I would be reading Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness" or my thoughts were messily and masterly organized like the Ulysses. But it was no phase I'm afraid, I am this crazy after all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We all have hard times, trials, probation. For a long long time I had been unable to laugh so hard I get out of breath, for a long time I've had this sorrow deep inside my eyes, behind my every smile. It took a lot of work and determination to get trough it and stop allowing this moments and daily hard words to define me. It took a lot of effort to decide that it is not what happens to me what shapes who I am, but how I react to it. It is not what others say of me what describes me, but I describe myself by the feelings in my heart and the way I come out to the world. And yet it is so true that if you hear something often enough you may end up believing it. If we are called "stupid" long enough, all our efforts might be put into disproving it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I try so hard to take things practically, find the solution and get to work, lift up my head and leave the sentimentalism aside. But it strikes me and some decisions can't be made that way. When you have to decide how your very life, heart and soul are going to be better, feel better, get less damaged, grow healthier, smile brighter, become all they can; well, those times being practical gets way too hard for me. Parents can't protect their children from it all, we just can't keep them in a bubble of happiness and I don't think that would be fair to them. But now I feel that whatever I choose is bad and I don't want to think about it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My mom used to say that I was a beautiful person. She saw in me something I will never understand. I don't think I am as good as she saw me. I hurt so many people, things I say, things I do, things I don't say or do. Sometimes it feels as though my very existence hurts others, I wonder if we all feel like that sometimes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I miss my mom so much today, I wish I could tell her what I'm up to, tell her that Emily can read, that she loves reading in Spanish. Telling her that Olivia is about to loose her second tooth. That Emily is starting to use her fingers when playing the violin. That Olivia is starting to read and wants me to give her homework. I would like to tell her that the rent went up and I might have to move, and I don't want to and the very though of it makes me nauseous. Tell her that I might be out of strengths and cry with her, because I have been feeling this ball in my throat and tears just don't come out. I would like to rest my head on her shoulders and hear her say "there is a solution to everything. The only thing we cannot do anything about is death." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am not even close to being the way my mom saw me, it just would feel so nice to hear it from her today, even when I know she was exaggerating out of love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I think I'll finish the cleaning. </span><br />
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marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-25001970096492925402014-02-23T14:24:00.000-08:002014-02-23T14:26:07.342-08:00If tomorrow never comes<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Life is so fragile! So many things we take for granted that can just get blown away with a sight. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I love my job, I love getting in my white scrubs and walk down the hallway to my ward. I love the chances I get everyday to care for others, to help them out, to listen to them, to watch over them. I often hear that it must be tough being so close to suffering, despair, uncertainty, disease and death; and it is but it is also a blessing in so many ways.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/fY07-DCQ4EI?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Everyday I get to remember that life is a gift, that life is fragile, that all we know and all we are able to do can change for ever with the blink of an eye. A bicycle tour under the summer sky, a fall, a hit on the head, bleeding and there they lay, on dippers, unable to talk, unable to eat, asleep. A headache, an MRI and their devastating expiration date from some doctor they've never met. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We all hear news like that from time to time, they make us think and then we go on with our lives like they were. The more analytic ones will think a day or two, the pragmatic ones may leave things ready just in case, the more empathetic ones shed a tear or two, the religious ones thank God for their lives and health... Nurses and doctors live with it, we learn to getting used to it, we learn to see that nothing in life is sure, that nobody can give us a prognosis, that nobody really knows when and how it will be over, but it is, it will be over one day, for all of us. Death is the only thing we know for sure will happen in our lives, and yet we don't seem to care.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have changed a lot and even more since I see what I see every day. It's sure not easy to put a red rose between some cold hands, close their eyes forever, make them ready for their loved ones' goodbye. It becomes more natural but never neutral.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today, after I've opened my big fat mouth and felt a little ashamed I started wondering why. Why do we obsess with hiding how we feel? Why do we try to avoid figuring out what our hearts are trying to say? Why are we so scared of feeling something? Why do we go through life so careful and so afraid? Why do we hide, why do we deny, why do we lie to others and ourselves? We get hurt anyway, we cry and we bounce and we are rejected and we are loved and unloved, and we hate and are hated, and we judge and get judged, and we win and we lose anyhow, all the time, every day. If we see beauty in someone, if we see warmth and light, why do we keep it for ourselves? Fear? We might be rejected and it will be painful, but what could that mean to the other? What if it helps them shine even more? What if it calms their pain? What if it helps them heal some old wound? What if it brings something good to the world? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Why do we silence words of kindness and of love out of fear, out of shame? What if tomorrow never comes? </span></div>
marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-199783932347239432014-02-21T10:13:00.000-08:002014-02-21T10:13:46.205-08:00Why I haven't, why I won't.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQ6ljDayX7_N9XoVcwqThTkpGDKTeKUdvHoFLqi3cFHnhzFWuteaHnzCCiAjQcVwbT58A7UfZ_GCTgxJ3lFxTE3tz5M7KGTsKoWryECaGIkW49gsVv8XYcMHSStWw8KbZbRjURitneO8/s1600/h%C3%A4mta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQ6ljDayX7_N9XoVcwqThTkpGDKTeKUdvHoFLqi3cFHnhzFWuteaHnzCCiAjQcVwbT58A7UfZ_GCTgxJ3lFxTE3tz5M7KGTsKoWryECaGIkW49gsVv8XYcMHSStWw8KbZbRjURitneO8/s1600/h%C3%A4mta.jpg" /></a></div>
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I was in a hurry yesterday. I had to write, I had to leave for work, life is all about balance. </div>
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I am obsessed, I am a control freak, I somehow think I have the obligation to explain and over explain every little thing I do or say, because if someone gets hurt because of me... well, I have a hard time handling that. And as I sit here wondering what I'm going to throw in my stomach before going to work I feel the needs to say a little bit more about my post of yesterday. </div>
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I read again that nice romantic article about relationships not being for us, but for the recipient of our affection and I agree, I agree to a certain extent. You'll see why.</div>
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Love, perfect love, was beautifully described in the First Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians:</div>
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<i>"Love suffers long, and is kind; love envies not; love vaunts not itself, is not puffed up,</i></div>
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<i> does not behave itself unseemly, seeks not her own, is not easily provoked, thinks no evil;</i></div>
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<i> rejoices not in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth;</i></div>
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<i> bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.</i></div>
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<i> Love never fails." (1 Cor 13:4-8)</i></div>
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The thing is that I think we, being imperfect, are not capable of having perfect feelings. We get jealous sometimes, we run out of patience, love might not, but we do. <i>Love </i>is a feeling indescribable, whereas <i>to love</i> is a verb and it is performed by imperfect, screwed up humans. </div>
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I don't know about you, but when I fall in love I fall head first, hands tied behind my back, no parachute and no fluffy madrases to land on. I had loved in a way I gave it all, the little I had, in pieces, patched up... but all I had. I loved in a way I put the loved one first, his smiles made my day, the sparkle in his eyes, his small or big successes made me happier than my own, I felt the need to nurture, to take care. I had felt pretty much like that article describes it, but not forever, not to any price, not for free, not for granted. </div>
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So in my case, romantic love is not unconditional, it will never be! </div>
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Romantic love, as I see it, takes a whole lot of work from both parts, it takes talks, sacrifices, effort. Love is not all about giving, it is also about accepting with a grateful heart. Romantic love, as I see it, is a constant negotiation, it is all about the other, only and just when for the other, it also is all about us. I haven't had it great when it comes to love. It's easy to fail, but there is no recipe, only reciprocity. </div>
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I have been said to be strong, to be a fighter, to be ambitious and even some had said I can be perceived as a rather intimidating woman. Well, one does what one has to do, if you can't fight falling head first you better get used to hitting the concrete. And having gotten naked here and now, and having exposed myself as a vulnerable, sensitive, sentimental woman with the heart of a little girl I can only say I cannot love unconditionally, not without bleeding, not if I care, not for my own sake. </div>
marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-36618591506331204282014-02-20T11:10:00.000-08:002014-02-21T05:38:02.058-08:00A whole lot of thinking, for free...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz2X-tHYottOZb7De5N6GsterKrj5qUwhG82bFo_3YxaBIyrAgik6LCZBSIRl6POkMMK4AjcwbH_Cvom85Af23TdDRaAzQqX5YaoBEM-EKnr4ONDiRDHhYZBC1f8HvE6vSYcK8CMBViXQ/s1600/relationships.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz2X-tHYottOZb7De5N6GsterKrj5qUwhG82bFo_3YxaBIyrAgik6LCZBSIRl6POkMMK4AjcwbH_Cvom85Af23TdDRaAzQqX5YaoBEM-EKnr4ONDiRDHhYZBC1f8HvE6vSYcK8CMBViXQ/s1600/relationships.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></div>
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It has been a while. I was free from work and recovering from my night shift exhaustion. I am not a night person, I get sad and gloomy when I'm tired. I'm not talking about normal tired, I'm talking about my neurons barely sending any signal to each other tired. I wish I understood the brain a little more and could figure out what it is that makes us who we are. I'm not even sure the complete answer to that question is written down there.</div>
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Whatever. It's been three great weeks in a lot of wonderful, unbelievable and unexpected ways. I think I got surprised by life quite a few times this 2014. I like it. I like surprises as much as I like figuring them out.</div>
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The whole lot of thinking started a few months ago, it goes on and it probably will. As it is in my case being the over analytic, philosophy lover, former psychology student (ok, only for a year but it should count as a legitimate interest) and the extremely sentimental person that I am, I thought a lot about families, relationships, romance, love... Why do some go so well as others fail in the abyss of selfishness and loneliness? Why do some great people choose so poorly? Why do some choose so right? Do we choose at all? Or is it just a mater of life and destiny putting people in front of us, some right, some wrong, some of them so so wrong in time. Why? Why do some couples make it, some fake it and others screw it up?</div>
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No, I did not come to an answer! Otherwise I would be writing a book by now and waiting to get millionaire. But it happens more often than I'd like to admit, that one of my friends comes with something to trigger my writing. This time it was Yesi posting this article on her Facebook wall. Here's the link so you read it, too. </div>
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<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/seth-adam-smith/marriage-isnt-for-you_b_4209837.html">http://www.huffingtonpost.com/seth-adam-smith/marriage-isnt-for-you_b_4209837.html</a></div>
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Is that it? Is that the key to a happy, wonderful, everlasting romance? Making it all about the one you love? Sounds so easy and natural!, or maybe way too hard?. With my girls I feel that kind of love all the time, I lighten up with their smiles and beautiful faces, I have this urge to be there when things go wrong, I love to feel them close and have her arms around me, I want to protect them, see them happy, healthy, shining, sparkling. Their pain is my pain, their tears are my tears, nothing in this world I have that I wouldn't give them. Have I loved that way? Will I love that way? No. I love my girls unconditionally, even if my love is taken for granted for ever more. The thing is, when you love a man like that, or a man loves a woman like that, then it is "for better or for worse, but never for granted", and I think that's the key. Now I'm gonna go write my best seller on relationships.</div>
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<br />marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-61274501310066673142014-01-31T13:46:00.000-08:002014-02-10T06:48:02.321-08:00Mirror Mirror... that's how you know!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This was supposed to be a Facebook status but I got inspired or something. I just can't go to bed at 10 pm on a Friday! The girls are sound asleep after the stories and I am all alone here sitting in my gloomy kitchen, listening to music and drinking my cup of tea.</div>
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We had a nice cuddling afternoon with the girls after dinner and since it was my turn to choose Friday movie and I am really, really tired of cartoons and animations, I chose Mirror Mirror. I love Julia Roberts, she is so pretty in a non plastic kind of way... Whatever... I must have some kind of dissociative disorder when it comes to romantic movies. You'll see: I am a chick, and sometimes I act like one, I love pink, fluffy, glittery, sweet pea smelling things, I adore them and some of them even make me go Aww! with a little jump. I am a romantic. I think teddy bears are cute, oh so cute and cuddly! I like nail polish, make up, perfumes, candles, tea, chocolate, Mindy Gledhill, unicorns, butterflies, fairies and all that bunch of girly stuff.</div>
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But something happens inside of my brain when I watch a romantic movie. My girly brain loves to watch them, I even pick them up! And when the movie is over, Daria awakens... If you don't know who Daria is you are probably too young, but let me put it this way, Once upon a time, teenagers could actually watch MTV. </div>
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Anyway... it's like a curse or a trauma or something, but romantic movies make me lose my belief in love. Why do they have to sell romance in such an unrealistic way giving girls expectations no man could ever live up to? Get real! Guys don't kill dragons, first because they don't exist (dragons, not guys), second because guys are not that brave! There are one million movies giving guys the "recipe" for keeping a girl happy and showing they care about her... How many guys do actually pay attention to that? We are talking here about beings too stubborn to ask for directions when they've been driving in circles for over an hour! like they would listen to advice on "how to show her you don't take her for granted"</div>
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So single girls out there (me included) it's OK to like romantic movies, but remember that they are not based on real stories, not even on actual facts! Guys are imperfect! WE are imperfect! guys screw up, WE screw up! and sad as it may sound, it's more likely you find Dr House than Dr Mc Dreamy. And even though, I still do believe that LOVE DOES HAPPEN. </div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"> This is a present from my chick side </span></div>
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marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-57341438758397341812014-01-21T15:00:00.000-08:002014-01-21T05:36:28.925-08:00When patients save nurses.<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzyDJLYelYtEU4haRof28l0T2UsMSZlTZ__lDJ_HtB9MCQU3IJt2jUhr_dMXl2kBZPMzC7D0psaOjbnTDL29F2g-CHOFouFNYP2CINMulB_n0TTtuDvht8LdYpAwz2uQR7KWUsfA7pfyU/s1600/523900_4062836372742_1758124328_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_lm_961807="null" cua="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzyDJLYelYtEU4haRof28l0T2UsMSZlTZ__lDJ_HtB9MCQU3IJt2jUhr_dMXl2kBZPMzC7D0psaOjbnTDL29F2g-CHOFouFNYP2CINMulB_n0TTtuDvht8LdYpAwz2uQR7KWUsfA7pfyU/s1600/523900_4062836372742_1758124328_n.jpg" height="199" width="200" /></a>I can't stop smiling when I read my last post. I am not bipolar! I just have moments of being sick and tired, I write about it, talk about it, think about it, pull myself together and go on.</div>
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It would sure be easier to have someone to help me come to my senses right here all the time, a slap in the face, a kick on the butt or just a hug and some kind words. But since that is not the case I have to count on Facebook chat or a telephone call to my best friends in the world -that would be my sisters-, and hug myself and over think and write my thoughts so I can see them out of my head. I recover quite fast.</div>
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<i>"The memory of a worm?"</i> Gee I was really frustrated and tired. I still am! I have just taken my dad's advice and tried not to be so sentimental. Not that easy since I have this romantic approach to life, and I am not talking "roses are red, violets are blue" kind of romantic, I'm talking 19th century Sturm und Drang romantic.</div>
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The thing with work is solved, I must have best bosses and colleagues ever. The tests for the drivers licence are moved forward. The kids know that Olivia is coming to their parties, my hair is washed and clean and all straightened. The girls got real food with a lot of veggies and I got to work and survived... </div>
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It was a whole story before work, as soon as the girls left to their dad's I sat down in the kitchen, put on some music and just burst into tears. I hate it when I cry before work because I have to show up with my eyes all swollen and red and it doesn't matter how much make up I wear, you can tell I've cried! I tried to smile as big as possible and was very ready to say I had an allergy if anybody asked (no nurse in the world would mistake a crying attack for an allergy!) </div>
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Anyway... I came in the ward feeling sad, down, blue and tired and all of those things, although not as much as in the morning. I went to say "hi" and "good night" to the patients and met one of my first patients ever. She took my hand so warmly and hard as she looked at me and said "I am so happy it's you today, Sister Lorena! You are just so, so nice! Do you remember me?" Of course I did! She made me smile so big! Her sincere appreciation and the fact she remembered me by my name made me feel so good.</div>
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When you work with people sometimes you get all of their anger and frustration, they treat you bad, they scream at you, the threaten you, they pee on you, cough on you... but they also trust you, lean on you, rely on you, depend on you, need you, love you and hate you. And they remember you! </div>
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Nurses are said to save lives, and we do, sometimes... But today I want to think about all those times when patients save us, they save us from becoming cold and seeing them as numbers, they save us from focusing on their diagnosis, they save us from losing our tempers, they save us from falling into routines, they save us from ignoring the individuality and the good in each of them, they save us from sadness, boredom, apathy... Patients like the one I met yesterday remind us that ours is a job that requires love and caring. Just as my little Olivia once said to me before I left for work, <i>"mommy, don't forget the feelings"</i>, patients like this one come to help us not to forget their hearts. </div>
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marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-11270159450202819602014-01-20T01:07:00.000-08:002014-01-20T08:44:20.238-08:00Come what may, and love it. Or...?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimYXpgLiiqYtF1U5bzjyHzrs_08NArzObgiCAA8zDf9gmei3uQ96d9dCpHCR6I0nMbXPEDx1ru5EDJ2HH0_zRSh1IEimbuEunLqca3dKF-eftvjvuYNAwc5GCwsGPBLg9YLmsTOBn2fQ/s1600/images+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimYXpgLiiqYtF1U5bzjyHzrs_08NArzObgiCAA8zDf9gmei3uQ96d9dCpHCR6I0nMbXPEDx1ru5EDJ2HH0_zRSh1IEimbuEunLqca3dKF-eftvjvuYNAwc5GCwsGPBLg9YLmsTOBn2fQ/s1600/images+(1).jpg" /></a><br />
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I slept 6 hours Sunday night, I did not wake up once! I got up in a good mood, I listened to music, I danced around singing and fooling around with the kids. We started our little project, a chores chart for the girls to get happy faces when they help around. Yes, I am giving them chores and don't give them a coin for helping, horrible mom? maybe, but they seem pretty excited about it. Life was good!! </div>
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The night came and the clock became 23:40 and I was awake, 00:30... 01:50 that's when I saw it for the last time before 03:00. I got up, had some porridge and a tea, looked a little on Pinterest, pinned some stuff, went to bed. Look at the clock once again, it was 04:15. "I have two more hours, I can do it!!!" </div>
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The morning came, as it usually is the case, and I jumped from the bed as though it would have been on fire. Yeah, sure thing it was 7:20. The bus! I woke up the girls, made them a toast each and 7:50 we headed to the bus stop. We made it! They were so sweet! They got ready so fast and not one complaint. </div>
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I sit here now waiting so it's time to make all those phone calls I have to make. I am nauseous, my eyes burn, my body aches and my head beats while I feel as though I would be being staved in the stomach. Sometimes I wonder if someone somewhere has made a voodoo doll of me and have their kicks by pinching me a little here and there. </div>
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I start a 4 nights shift today, I haven't read the theory for the drivers licence, I have practice someday in the middle of the week, I have to call and postpone the tests, I have to call to work and see how we can solve the fact that Nicklas is going away on a vacation and I can't work because I can't leave a 5 and a 6 year old alone all night, neither can I take them with me. I have to call three of Olivia's classmate's parents to confirm that she is going to their kid's parties, what else... </div>
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I used to remember everything I had to do, I do not oversleep! I DO NOT OVERSLEEP!! I don't need to write things down, I had never ever needed to postpone a test! I don't forget the pan with oil on the stove! I DON'T, and it may sound funny and all, in fact it kinda was since I was more scared the fire alarm would set on than of the horrible smoke we were breathing. The point is I HAVE CONTROL! I don't forget, I don't burn the food, I don't have a dirty house, I don't oversleep, I don't scream at my children because I am tired, I don't put them in the bathtub for as long as they wish when their are hyper and cranky, I don't feed them junk food because I was to lazy to walk 500 mt to the supermarket, I don't send them to school with a toast in their stomach, I don't miss washing my hair, I don't!! I don't get lazy when a patient needs help, I don't think it's bothersome, I don't forget to call my friends, I don't leave e-mails unanswered, I don't hurt my friends and screw things up, and yet I did! I did all of that! I am not evil, I am not lazy, I am not unorganized, I am strong, I can, I have to, I must...and yet I did screwed up big time in so many things! </div>
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I like myself very little today... I try to be happy, I try to be thankful and I am! I truly am!!! I just can't seem to get things right! I drove 30 km/h and the instructor had to scream at me "you are on a 50 road! speed up!" and I didn't know what to do... and I open the book and I read for an hour and I have no clue what I read, and the girls call me and call me "Mom can you give me milk? Mom, can you make me a sandwich? Mom, can you plug the IPad? Mom can you call a friend to come over and play? Mom I want to play with a friend! Mom I miss Elise and Filippa, when do they come back? Mom, can you help me with violin? Mom, can you help me find my pearls?" And I just can't do it all, I just want them to be quiet for a while!! And I wanna get away from myself!</div>
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I thought I could, I thought I was strong, I thought I had energy and was active, I thought that whatever came I would fix it. I thought I could work nights and have a normal life when I was free and all I am is a lousy mom, a bitchy nurse and a stupid adult with the judgement capacity of a very stupid teenager, and I have the memory of a worm!</div>
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And I want to be positive, I want to be hopeful and faithful and kind to myself and others and think before I act and not burning the food, and not oversleeping and not being awake all night! I want to, but I can't. So I have no reflections for today, I can't cheer myself up, I can't think of the bright side, I just can't say "Come what may, and love it" and believe it myself. <br />
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marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-85788519916908724772014-01-13T00:46:00.000-08:002014-01-14T02:28:03.937-08:00Usch!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I woke up angry today. I didn't sleep as much as I wanted to, and though that is completely normal for a full grown adult and specially for a parent, I have been collecting sleepless nights like a hoarder. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was mad! I was frustrated, I hated everything and didn't want to do a thing! Even having to pee was a pain in the neck! And of course I wake up to meet two tired kids who also were angry, and lazy. None of them wanted to put on clothes, and I told them once, and I told them twice, three times, four times forcing the sweetest of the tones until I figured that if something would get done I had to do it myself. Got them dressed and practically dragged them down the stairs. And breakfast! Oh dear... And then the hair, and the teeth and the jackets and scarfs and gloves and shoes... EVERYTHING was a battle! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I snapped! I raised my voice and spited it out "I don't like it either! I hate to have to hurry to the buss, I hate not getting enough sleep, I hate it, OK? It is not your fault, you did nothing wrong but it is what it is, we have to hurry or we'll miss the buss, period!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I don't get angry at them that often, so when I do they get scared, and they did... And then I felt like the worst mom in the world! What a horrible person I am becoming! I hated everything and myself even more!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It wasn't until we got on the buss that I came to my senses. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It is hard now, I am tired now, I have too many responsibilities and schedules, I sleep and eat badly, I am anxious about work, the drivers license, the shopping I haven't done since two weeks ago, I have been feeling alone and overwhelmed... I have been there before, It is not that bad, It will be over! The more I think about how hard things are the harder they become. Get up, smile and get it done! I will have to get it done anyway, it's not like I can delegate, so shut up and count your blessings, NOW!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So I started: I have a job I like, I have two healthy, wonderful girls who get tired and overwhelmed themselves, too; I have a roof over my head and can afford food; it is no big deal if I can't do the big shopping, people didn't do big shopping before and they were just fine! I have my slippery driving in an hour, I am going forward! Sure, it is not as smooth and bump free as I wish it would be, but I will make it! I have friends, I have family, I am healthy... don't get enough sleep? do something about it and stop whining! don't get enough to eat? then open your mouth and chew! hungry or not! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And so it is that I got rid of the anger.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The more we think about how hard things are, the harder they become. </span></div>
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marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1037408086984676936.post-30772931357413607242014-01-05T09:31:00.003-08:002014-01-05T17:37:56.123-08:00Hugs...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today is one of those days when I need a hug, one of those hugs that make me feel I have someone to lean on. One of those long hugs when I can rest my head on a warm shoulder and close my eyes and pretend that all is well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It wasn't that terrible, it may not even have been bad at all, I should be used to it. I should have gotten stronger, so much stronger and so much wiser...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today I need secure and firm arms to hold me tight, a hand on my hair and a kiss on my head. Like a little child needs the comfort of a mother, the warm, unconditional and unbreakable protection of a father. Maybe I'm just tired, maybe I'm getting a cold, it could be hormones, but it feels like life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today I need a hug.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhECXjiDCzqp1w3ws5fXAmAEEVR6gzxtqZawLgUeFUuJNgtctdH_t5xcnz2E8wviqZ_D-cQe-O4Wed3v34AZinu23SZse2oBLp3OBbmCn3znC8kX2yxDy_dMdVCPrHHYNa33wp1f9FSd2c/s640/blogger-image--1321167178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhECXjiDCzqp1w3ws5fXAmAEEVR6gzxtqZawLgUeFUuJNgtctdH_t5xcnz2E8wviqZ_D-cQe-O4Wed3v34AZinu23SZse2oBLp3OBbmCn3znC8kX2yxDy_dMdVCPrHHYNa33wp1f9FSd2c/s640/blogger-image--1321167178.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div>
marielalvarezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03355345699778851604noreply@blogger.com0