kids are still cruel

I am a nurse.  Been one officially for 16 months.  I don't know if I can do this anymore.

Nothing beside my family means more to me.  I may not be cut out to do this.

I know this might sound sad.  I know this feels sad.  I love learning.  I love helping.  I don't think I can be taught anymore of this stuff.  

I've given this up to God.  I let it be.  And it still hurts.  I don't know if this feeling will fade.

Helping others and feeling helpless.
Hoping to heal and assuming assistance.
Giving and tending to someone else's garden as if it were mine...I don't think that's all.

Praying and pleading for a heart to step up.  Where is the support group?  Where is the camaraderie of healers?  Where do I look for other nurses to tend with me?  To pull me out of this mud so I can grow too?  I think cutting off my nose to spite my face is easier.  

The world of sacrifice and  unconditional giving is foreign to the other kids.  Like they think I'm threatening their confidence by wanting to succeed.  Changing to fit in is not doing it for me.  I don't think I belong on this playground anymore.

This isn't the first time I've been kicked out of the club.  It's becoming an unwelcome occurrence and a pitiful sight for my family to bear.  I realize some strengths in writing and photography and hugging.  None of that creates sustainable income or equates to a reason for six years of community college.  I don't think I can survive another confession to my husband and kids.  Mommy fell again.  Mommy fell to square one again and needs a vacation from reality. Mom's leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again.

Where do I hide from my naivety?  Where do I hide my ego?  Where do I find a way-back machine to travel to my mother's womb?  I don't know where the rest of my strength will come from.  I don't know if crying and writing and pow wows about pulling up boot straps is meant for me anymore.  I want it to go away.  I don't like dredging the bottom of my lake anymore.  Let the sandbars pile up, no ships of opportunity await in my harbor to pass through.

The beach and I have bonded.  I spend time with the open sky, the screaming seagulls, the welcoming waves, the ice bogs and the sand prints...all beach asks in return is respect.  Respect of environment and beauty and peacefulness and calm and solace and protection and security and wonder.  I'm calming now, thinking about my beach.  I visited the unexpected colors of our sunset last week.  Shot over one hundred photos with my new telephoto lens.  Felt grateful to be alive and standing next to Lake Michigan's enormity and grace.  Even our winter is tolerable standing on her shores.

Lots to think about in the next week.  Lots to decide.  I'd rather be volunteering in Haiti.  And someday I will.  Today I don't have the appropriate skills to step foot onto that hallowed ground...to add one more mouth to feed or one more spot of grass to sleep upon.  Someday my talents will serve their purpose.  Someday...

Until then I write, shoot photos, read good books, do taxes, reorganize my closets, email friends, walk the dog, go to the beach, listen to good music, bake, dance, travel.  Until then I live.  And get along with the other kids.

Peace be with us.