And I'll Throw It All Away

    I have sat on my couch alone with only the company of my dog in utter silence. For those of you that know me well, you can appreciate how far of a leap I've made in appreciating the silence.... A good friend and mentor of mine used the phrase "he appreciates the silence" and it stuck with me. I think it made such a lasting impression because it forced me to realize how much I hated the silence; I hated being forced to listen to what was happening on the inside. I was terrified of myself and at times... I still am.
    Anyway, back to the point. Sitting in my apartment listening to the distant sounds of my refrigerator, I remembered a wonderful poem. The Dash Poem by the lovely Linda Ellis. I've seen it a lot lately floating around the internet in it's infinite travel to new minds. I was indirectly introduced to this poem a few years ago by a man I am hopelessly in love with. He has a tattoo of the last verse.
    The meaning of the poem is obvious and everyone can easily relate. The impact this poem had on my heart this particular evening is hard to explain. If I step back... way back... everything looks good. I have a roof over my head, food in my stomach and shoes on my feet; luxuries that a growing number of people are losing or never had. I hold a college degree and am working on another. I have friends and family, no matter how crazy and intolerable I may find them at times; all time for a select few. I am healthy.
    Take a few steps closer and all the small details come into focus. I desperately try to hide these details from others in an attempt to maintain a sense of mystery and appear strong; I am realizing I even try to hide them from myself at times. These details, each as an individual, are meaningless bumps in the road I like to step on and crush as I conquer them. Together... well, they are an army of ferocious feral cats trapping me in a corner and I am the idiot who filled my hands with the tastiest cat food in town.
    The specifics of the situation aren't necessary nor the point of this post. The part they play however is monumental. I am trapped in my own life by horrors that arose because of decisions I made; some rash and uneducated, others seemingly harmless and most my only option. The past few weeks have regrettably been filled with inevitable break downs and many, many headaches brought about by endless crying.
    So tonight, I sit thinking about The Dash Poem and how I once believed in it so religiously that I mocked those who sat around waiting for life instead of chasing it. Yet I find myself sitting on the couch... waiting for life. I have become what I once mocked and could almost describe as a group I felt pity for.
    What I am about to describe are feelings I have just released into the wild environment that is my forebrain  They have not been properly processed and organized, but have a good foundation.
    I am tired of sitting around and waiting for things to balance out. I need to take things into my own living and fully capable hands. I have dreams and aspirations. Forget everything I thought before, I need to get out there and chase these beasts down. I almost wish I was my teenage self again if only because I seemed to have a fearless desire to do everything my heart desired. I was so selfless and passionate. I didn't care about the things I do now and I certainly didn't envision myself in the shoes I wear. My "dash" could end at any time and what do I have to show for it? Stress, gray hairs at 22, and a negative outlook on life that is most commonly described in crappy, depressing nursing home. WAKE THE HELL UP, BRITTANY!!! What are you doing?

Thanks for caring enough to read this crap. Maybe one day it will become useful to me. Maybe one day I'll save lives and make a difference in this world. Until then...

All My Broken Heart Beats

    In this moment, I can write a book about my goals in life. With tear filled eyes I can explain my passions and why my heart aches for others. As I speak my adrenaline rushes and I get the urge to do something immediately, to save lives.
    I want to come home tired and aching because I worked so hard to earn what I have. I want to sweat and get stressed out. I want to challenge my mind to do things I've never done before. I want to save lives of both people and animals. I'm working toward that. I am currently employed at an emergency clinic and it has been a beautiful, stressful, terrifying endeavor. I have helped save some lives and I have watched others slip right between our fingers. Yet...
    I have never been so confused as I am now. There are so many things I have had and still so many more that I want, yet I feel stuck. In a strained effort to express a feeling I have but can't define, I will run through the events of my day.

    My sweet, cuddly foster dog left today. I drove a ridiculous distance with zero gas to a vet's office neatly tucked between a super market and a unappealing restaurant; so neatly tucked that I drove past it three times before finding it. Mindy and Roscoe sat excitedly in the car wondering what adventure we had arrived for. The moment came that I had to hand Mindy over to a stranger to transport her to her rescue organization. I can't begin to describe the heartbreak that overwhelmed me at this moment. I wasn't largely attached to Mindy, but that isn't saying much because I am attached to all animals from first sight. This individual didn't have an appropriately sized crate for Mindy so I had to shove her backwards into one designed for a dog half her size. I said my goodbyes and got into my car. I could see Mindy's crate from my driver's seat; she wasn't exactly pleased with the situation. She was moving so much (in what I can only deem an attempt to get out of that crate and back to us) that the crate was shifting around the back seat of this woman's car. It truly broke my heart to know she was scared, alone, and confused. From this point on, I can only hope she is alright and comfort my sweet Roscoe who is equally confused. I'm not sure if Mindy knew love before us but I sure hope that wasn't the last time she was treated like a precious gift. She is such a sweet pup and she deserves the best.
    A lot of people are unwilling to foster because they can't let the go of the attachment they made with a pet. I foster because I can't let go of an innocent life. Giving them up is never easy, but I find comfort in the fact that I am sending her to a rescue who will guarantee she has a good life. Best of luck to you, my love.
    I arrived home with a feeling of emptiness. It's weird and confusing to not have her here. Roscoe doesn't understand and he misses his playmate; his sister.

    As if I wasn't depressed enough today, I turned my attention to my budget. My budget is atrocious. The past few months have been rough for me and my financial standing has taken quite a hit. I'm not ashamed of it in any way, but I am scared that I won't be able to catch up as soon as I need to. So, there's that.

    I spent some time optimistically planning for my future and chasing dreams in an effort to counteract the upsetting morning I had. My dream job is to be a veterinary technician in a zoo, working with large cats and hoof stock. I spent an hour or so enthusiastically applying for jobs in this state as well as others, smiling because I know I'm at least making an effort to achieve my dreams. All that positive energy and enthusiasm didn't last too long however. I started being realistic, or pessimistic depending on your view point.
    There is no realistic way for me to let go of what I have now and transfer my life to another location. I have no money, no resources, and nothing to fall back on. Even if I got one of those positions, how would I be able to follow through on it?

    It's been a challenge to live my life in such a way that cause me to feel... alone. Before I make the following statement, here this. I have wonderful friends who care for me in a way I can never seem to justify in my own mind. They have been there for me in the past and I know I can call them anytime for a pair of ears. However, I don't have many people I can rely on to pick me up from the deep hole I am bound to find myself in. If I fail... that's on me. If I lose everything... I have nothing. It's hard you see, to do this alone; to fight battles chasing me from my past as well as those waiting around the corner ahead of me.
    I've never felt so alone.

    To add to it all, I'm extremely bitter about my past. Things were taken from me and opportunities ripped out of my hands right when I was blinded by hope for a better future. This isn't getting any better....

    So, here we are. I'm stuck... scared... tired...alone...

    An old friend contacted me around midnight last night. He had this to say: "Brittany, you were and still are important to me. I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise. You are one of the most beautiful people that I have ever known."
    I told him that to this day, I can't see in myself what others do. Does that mean I'm not what they think I am?

My Sad Nights

I am not ashamed to admit to you the following information:

1. I have listened to more than my fair share of sad cover songs on YouTube.
2. I am utilizing Google to research "baby fever" for the sake of self diagnosis. 

Every now and then, usually on a monthly basis, I have one very depressing evening where I dive head first into sad songs and desperately try to avoid contacting my exes (which I am not always successful at). It never ends well and I stumble to bed hoping I find relief in my dreams (which is also not always successful). The results of my evening.... sad expressions and an empty uterus. Win some lose some. 

On another, completely unrelated note...The weather has been a little rough today. Ice, ice, baby.... everywhere. My car was frozen. my parking lot was frozen. I was frozen. You get the point! As expected, we had a small power outage; a momentary lapse of power lasting for approximately 3 seconds. After frantically trying to find lighters and candles... and fix my internet... somebody took it upon themselves to attempt to open my front door. Roscoe freaked out, I had a minor heart attack, all the expected reactions. Luckily, the front door was locked. Crazy times here at Oak Park. 

I'm going to listen to some more sad cover songs and Google baby pictures. To each their own. ;) Here are some pretty pictures. 

It's One of Those Nights

• I feel lost inside myself; confused about the life I'm living and the person I was when I made the decisions that got me here.
• I spend hours scrolling through pages of sad, beautiful and occasionally inspiring pictures I find on random blogs. 
• I tried to accept the hand I was dealt and shake the hand of my opponent, only to be slapped with what I lost. 
• The same songs are on repeat...... until my eyes wear heavy and I drift to sleep.

Hodgepodge

    I've been putting off writing anything for the past week. I'm not really sure why; maybe I was scared of everything running through my mind or simply too caught up in my busy schedule to care much. Either way, this is a collection of (almost) everything I've been considering lately. 

Two Weeks Notice

    I put my notice of resignation in at both Camp Bow Wow and the vet practice last Wednesday. It was possibly one of the toughest things I've had to do. I've never quit a job before... except for the 3 I held when I graduated and left Tampa. I love Camp Bow Wow, but it no longer had anything to offer me and I couldn't bear to stick around any longer with failure in my face. The vet practice has honestly become home to me, but I need to grow. The practice is so small that there is little room to budge at this point. 

    I was nervous; I still am. I'm nervous that my relationships with my coworkers will change for the worse; that I'll regret my decision; that my future isn't as bright as I think it is. 

    I'm scared. 

What I Would Tell My Teenage Self About Sex

    Hey! You see that guy over there? Walk away!! He's super cute and you think he's funny... for now. I can already tell you what happens. 

    You met him at the store when you ran him over with your shopping cart because you were far too interested in staring at soup cans to watch where you were walking. You laughed so hard you couldn't talk. Eventually, you managed a few words and the two of you exchanged numbers. He was the first person to make you feel special and important, and so the trap was set. 

    You end up sleeping with him way too soon and for reasons you'll never understand. Afterwards, you start to think he isn't as funny.. or as nice.. or anything like you thought he was when you met him. Every little thing he does is annoying and upsetting. You find yourself in a depressive state, desperately trying to grab the small shred of what you think is left between you. You spend an entire year forcing yourself to love him because you think that's how it's supposed to be. 

    My point is.... don't do it. Just walk away now. You're gonna hate yourself for what you let happen. Trust me. 

2013

    First of all, my dog's resolution seems to be sleeping more considering he's been asleep since 7pm yesterday!

    I stopped making resolutions... because they simply became promises I subconsciously designed with the purpose of being broken. The number change means nothing to me, although I do have a new start at a new job. Hopefully, things will get better and I won't be stuck in the same spot a year from now. 

I'm Sorry...

    ...for everything.