Sanctuary

“Remember the entrance to the sanctuary is inside you.” – Rumi

I don’t like that I’ve stepped away from this for so long, but such is life. And life makes it hard for me to dedicate myself to anything entirely. At least, it feels that way with the hours I’ve had to keep. I am making some changes in the near and foreseeable future, and am hoping it brings in the results I’d like to see.

And it wasn’t just life, it was the unnerving that came with knowing that two people in particular were paying such close attention to my life. A woman where I work – the self-proclaimed dirty fairy creature congratulated me when I announced I was pregnant. I hadn’t said a word to anyone at work. And if you’re reading now, Fairy Creature, there was never a doubt in my mind that it was you who trolled my blog. And then some guy I briefly dated kept looking at one of my online profiles not long after I announced I was engaged. It was creepy. I contacted him on Facebook, letting him know that it was creepy and that I literally got a notification every time he did that. His response was to go in incognito mode or whatever it is that LinkedIn offers and block me on Facebook. I just have one question for you both:

I have another announcement: I am pregnant. Six months. It’s a girl. I found out in January. Apparently the day I took the test was the very day it could have a positive reading. She’s been hitting the marks on the timeline quite nicely and I’m looking forward to meeting the little one face to face. A friend dubbed her ‘Belly Being’. I like it and that’s how I refer to her when I write my ridiculous weekly updates on pregnant life. It’s definitely a joyous experience, but it’s also a hilariously uncomfortable one, too. I hope to make her a book on all of this someday.

Belly Being's very first gift was an awesome girl power book and a Wonder Woman teether. Compliments of a lovely co-worker. 

I feel like nearly every inch of me as widened, including my feet. I’m hoping it’s not permanent because I hear some women never go back to their original size and  . . . . Dancing. I need to fit into my dancing shoes! I have stretch marks. I have gas. I have a constant halo of grease on my face from the hormones. But hey! It gives me that glowing look that everyone says is so lovely. And I can’t say that this has been an entirely joyful experience, either. I’ve heard that before about women who have had a miscarriage. It’s really messed with my head, making me nearly afraid to be happy about it. Yet here we are and she’ll be here in just a few months. It’s not that I didn’t want to be happy, I was just afraid. And as we’ve progressed further along I’ve taken a small sigh of relief. And now I can feel her kicking every now and then and it reassures me that everything is okay.

This perfect tiny little being. I loved her from the moment I saw her as a tiny cluster of beating cells. 

She's been a positive influence on my life already. I was ready to walk away from a familial relationship entirely - and then I learned I was pregnant and knew that it wasn't a choice that I could make for someone else. So Belly Being has actually improved my relationship with my adopted mom. We still keep in contact, but I keep it at my own terms and that's made this whole dynamic run much more smoothly. 

The thing that amazes me most about this entire experience is the calmness that pregnancy has brought on me. I have felt small instances of anxiety, but nothing lasting. I have lived with PTSD and depression for so long I’d literally forgotten what it was like to not feel those awful things.  I don’t know that this will last after pregnancy, but it would be beyond wonderful if it does. And don’t get me wrong, I have plenty to be losing my sh*t about; it’s just not phasing me as it would have prior to pregnancy.

I’ll be changing jobs. It’s a step down and a cut in pay, but I am so done with the surgical department at my hospital. Bonus points because it shaves a little from my commute. And then Micheal decided that it was time to look for a house after we learned I was pregnant (insert overwhelmed and nervous laughter here). The housing market in the pacific northwest is beyond f*cking ridiculous. We qualify for a $200, 000 loan . . . . which can pretty much get us a frame of a house that’s been burned down from a meth lab gone wrong and is now housing ants. Anything that seems attainable is always going to go to a higher bidder who has cash on hand. Who are these assholes that have this kind of money? I confess, even looking at manufactured homes has been a challenge. Granted, it makes us feel like we have a fighting chance, but its’s still vicious.

We even got close once. The offer was accepted. Everything fell through last minute because the HOA didn't follow through with a letter for the lender and that was it. Then the seller took a cash offer and we were left with nothing but frustration. 

Maybe I should be grateful? I've never been fond of Portland or the Pacific NW in general. 

And despite how impossible this has felt and proven to be, it still seems like a good idea because we really need the room. Currently we live in a modest 2 bedroom apartment with 2 dogs. Technically we have an extra room, because it’s only used 3 months out of the year at most if the step son comes to visit, but it’s off limits. I didn’t feel even remotely panicky until I realized we don’t even have room for a rocking chair. And then I feel Belly Being move and realize there’s an actual tiny person living inside of me. Oh. Em. Gee. So I have a few moments of worry and then I’m done with it. Prior to pregnancy all of these things: job change, change in pay, looking for home to buy, insanely dumb commute, etc. All of those things would have resulted in me setting something on fire.

We’re taking all of these birth prep courses, too. And for these ice breaker exercises they had couples ask one another what they’re doing to prep for their nursery. LMAO!!! I’m not sure I’d have time to work on it even if we had one. Up until a few weeks ago I was still working 2 jobs. So these women with their unswollen feet with husbands who supported them fully wanted to know what I was doing to get ready for baby. I joked that I mostly just cried in the corner about it. That’s a half truth, I guess because sometimes I certainly feel that way.

I'm not at this phase yet, but I pray for Grace for those who are near me when this starts. 

Honestly I can’t complain much. Compared to what I’ve heard from other women, my pregnancy has been relatively easy. I haven’t had too much intense cravings, either; that’s also a benefit for Micheal because I’m not driving him too crazy.

I envy this little girl already because she has an amazing dad who is just as happy about her as I am.

Dirty Faerie Creature

“Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” – Nelson Mandela

I’ve waited for some time to write about this because it really is wasted energy, but some things are far too amusing to not share . . . . and, on occasion, my rants can be comical.

I have an ability to genuinely connect with others from all walks of life and I pride myself in that. I want to understand others. I’m curious and compassionate and these characteristics show when I’m interacting with another person. This is one of the reasons I love my job so much. My patients are going through a very scary process that I’m only barely beginning to understand even a little. If I can offer them some form of solace during their time in our clinic by giving a warm smile, hug, or a listening ear, you betcha I’m going to do it. Given this aspect of my personality, imagine my frustration when I just can’t understand another person. At all. I’m consistently baffled by her.

My experience with her has been taxing, but I’ve learned a few things about myself through her antics.

Behold! A faerie creature. I was too afraid of what the word 'dirty' would add to my Google search.

She likes to call herself things like: Dirty Faerie Creature, Swamp Flower, Water Witch and Delicate Flower. I have never met another person who has so many creative names to call herself.  Personally, I will also refer to her as the Dirty Faerie Creature (DF) because that one in particular is my favorite. As I’ve interacted with her for almost a year, I’ve come to the conclusion that she is the textbook definition of a narcissist. Her ego is so over inflated I don’t know how her mind or soul makes room for it. Perhaps she has neither.

That was a horrible thing to say, but I said it.

Just from my own observation (and another co-worker) I can guarantee DF takes about five ‘bathroom’ breaks a day. She’s generally gone for at least 20 minutes because she cakes on more makeup and preens herself in the mirror. I have never met another woman so insecure that she has to spend that much time on her face.

She’s never on time to work. Not once since she’s been here. That among a few other things is a source of contention for me because she views herself in an elevated position and she is definitely the manger’s favorite – which is why he will never see several of my colleagues and I see.

DF once sent a 4 paragraph e-mail to a co-worker regarding said co-worker clicking her pen. I couldn’t make this up if I wanted to. I received a lengthy e-mail from her as well. It was several months ago. I kept trying to bring her something to process and each time I brought it she’d point out something else wrong with my paperwork. I remember thinking to myself, “Why not just tell me exactly what you need in one sitting without wasting my time with our frequent interactions.” It was frustrating. When I finally had it all arranged to the satisfaction of DF, I asked her if she needed anything else. Apparently that was a wrong question to ask.

She came into my office, my space and was literally in my face asking me what my problem was. As someone who frequently takes blame to avoid confrontation with this type of personality, I told her I was sorry I came across to her negatively; I didn’t mean to, had a lot of other things on my mind, etc. I then received a multiple paragraph diatribe stating that my apology wasn’t genuine and I was clearly being a bully and she needs a stable work environment.

Bam! Butting heads. No doubt about it.

Good grief. I bought her a plant as a peace offering because I knew she wanted one and secretly hoped it died. This was a good enough apology for the self-proclaimed Dirty Faerie Creature.

I was the first one to have this kind of encounter with her. My co-worker didn’t believe me until DF acted the same way towards her. DF did exactly the same thing, spinning it into my co-worker’s issue (because it could never have anything to do with DF’s actions) and sent her a very lengthy e-mail as well. This co-worker in particular is not easily angered and she was royally pissed about the entire ordeal.  The only good thing about it was that DF quit coming into our office, talking for 6 hours a day and neglecting all of her work.

Just one look at DF’s Facebook page can only lead to one conclusion: there is something wrong with her. I’ve never seen so many selfies, videos posted of her singing and this insanely bizarre one of her in a costume that lasts about five minutes and she’s mostly staring at herself in the camera. Sometimes I feel bad for her because that kind of behavior tells me that she’s lonely and I’m sure there’s a lot going on under the surface. My moments of sympathy are usually short lived because she approaches me to say something snarky when no one else is around to hear her do it.

I imagine underneath all of the self-absorption is a very tortured soul. 

She clearly needs help, but is too blinded by her image of having achieved the ultimate level of perfection to see it. I have done a lot of work in therapy. It takes an intense level of humility to reflect on your own psyche and behaviors. Humility isn't something DF possesses. That's not a dig at all, just an honest observation.

I just can’t understand people like DF. Her absolute favorite topic is herself and heaven forbid if anyone ever do anything better than her. She’s been biking to and from work for a while. She was upset when I started because I was putting in more miles. DF doesn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t adore her; she assumes they’re just jealous of her success and her beauty.

I admit she’s cute. Her soul, however, is not pretty at all.

This made me laugh too hard to not share. There's probably a special place in hell for me for this. 

I noticed that I began quitting meaningful things because I wanted to distance myself from her as much as possible. She does belly dance. I have put belly dance aside for a very long time. She likes Antony and the Johnsons. I didn’t listen to their music for a while – and I have always loved the singers poetic voice and words. She likes Rumi . . . . I was just at a loss for words. Then I had a bad dream about her spending time with a guy who I genuinely enjoy being around. Damn. It!! I wasn’t happy when I woke up.

I hashed this out in therapy last week. What was it about DF that caused me to dread being in her presence? Envy was definitely a part of the equation - and envy is an ugly and senseless emotion. She has expendable income and often does fun classes and workshops. She eats out daily. She goes on trips. I don’t have money for those kinds of things. The difference in what our positions pay is fairly substantial and my position has much more responsibility. It strikes me as backward and unfair. So, I have to remind myself again that I don’t really deserve anything and the world doesn’t owe me. Fairness has never really played out in life. I wonder why we believe in that construct at all.

It might be a Libra thing. There must be balance!!!

Another aspect to my dread was the feeling of walking on egg shells around DF because I never knew what was going to set her off into one of her fits. I also resent the blatant favoritism. It’s obvious and I’m not the only one who notices. I guess she’s good with politics, because she hasn’t blown up on anyone other than a handful of people because she knows it won’t come back to bite her.

My therapist asked me to think about it. What was it that DF represented to me? My therapist started listing things: double standard, two-faced personality, favoritism, etc. My work life is parallel to the home environment of my adoptive mother.

Transference. Check yourself, Lass. 

So there you have it. I’ve long acknowledged that my disdain for DF was my own issue; I just couldn’t get to the root of it. I have more work to do. Granted, DF will still grate on my nerves, but at least I can move forward knowing what my issues are and leave DF to her mirrors and makeup and hope I can reach a point where I can feel compassion and understanding for her. 

"There is a magnificent, beautiful, wonderful painting in front of you! It is intricate, detailed, a painstaking labor of devotion and love! The colors are like no other, they swim and leap, they trickle and embellish! And yet you choose to fixate on the small fly which has landed on it! Why do you do such a thing?" C. Joybell