Sleepy girl

i’ve been awake a few hours, long enough to get a quick kiss from Sir Raven and confirm that this is her long night.  She told me to go get my nails done today, because they are all ripping off and it looks bad.  She says i will feel better.

i’m still waiting for my medicine to work.  i’m so stiff and tight today.  Last night, kneeling at her feet, i told her that i had checked into transferring to NYU.  Because of that ONE DAMN POINT FROM AN A-my gpa is only a 3.0.  Not to mention, i don’t think my body can handle an hour each way right now every single day.  i think i can deal with 3 days a week perhaps.  During the year period of getting all of the supervised hours in, both to complete the Masters program, and then to have enough hours with the state to be licensed.  i figure i can force my body through anything for awhile.  A short while.

i need to focus for a few months on my health, gaining a sense of balance, and get through this vicious Summer.  It may have come late-the heat, that is-but it is really making up for it with intense humidity.  The streets are rolling with heat.  Manhattan has a lot of cool breezes and is much more pleasant.  Who doesn’t want to live overlooking Central Park?

i have to remind myself, passing the doorman buildings, the architecture and glorious details.  i photograph lots of things, my mind able to relax.  It’s tempting to think the ladies and girls in these buildings have no real problems.  The Nannys are happy.  i would have LOVED to be a Nanny, have an expense account or something and take them to the park, museums, zoo, libraries.  Maybe i’d go with another Nanny, stroll along, maybe with the baby on my body in a pouch of silk, tied around my body.  This is a sighted, able-bodied fantasy.

There are a lot of doors in life that are permanently closed to me.  Some are closed because of the fears and taboos around blind people.  Others are closed because i’m physically unable to do it.

i always dreamed of opening up my own Montessori school, in a old and large house.

i wanted to have my own children.  Fibromyalgia robbed me.  Adopt?  Not healthy enough. Robbed.

Some things, i accept-

that i will never be able to contact my family again, even in a letter after my death,

that i will never be allowed to teach in a classroom again, because there is no way to have the kids and me safe without help,

that i would live far under the poverty line without my financing in place for school,

that the entire Masters program has been an uphill forced march, or a totally ignored one, depending-

were it not for needing the money, i’d be tempted to quit, to drop out, to get loan forgiveness, to set it all on fire and walk away-

i’m not a quitter, though.  So i keep pushing. Demanding. Making it work.

If i take the loan forgiveness, that means i will never be able to finish my Masters, or get my Doctorate.

There is not much to really think too hard on there.  Sir Raven would cite my safety, and she would be correct.  The irony is that of all of her possible objections, it starts-and ends-with my safety.  Money could change that.  Technology.  But in all reality, i have to accept that these things are off limits to protect me~to protect me from myself.  i find peace in acceptance.

i’ve learned to watch behaviors over words this year, and to go with behavior over what is said.

Vows are words, sacred, so it never made sense to me when people under explored words enough to use them precisely.  The whole ‘its only words’ retort never made sense to me.  How can both things be true?

i’m tried of being the baby, but always taking care of everyone and getting little back that is just for me.  i’m the baby who is parenting.  It should not be the occasional treat, the once a blue moon, do something that makes me happy.  i’m a happy person overall, because i’m mindful and an optimist.  The circumstances must improve and more closely reflect the vows taken.

 

 

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