Chance Encounters

Omo omo omo I found a chingu!!! She's young, works at LensCrafters, and her name is Jennifer.

She was obviously Asian - helping me look at new frames - when we sat down, we quickly eliminated my tray of possibilities (both of us leaning towards the same pair on me). My little "voice" kept nudging me "ask her, ask her". You know what I wanted to know! She's Filipina but, she spent 5 years in Korea while her husband was stationed there! Yes, she reads, writes, and speaks Korean!

And, her favorite Korean actor: Hyun Bin!!! She high-fived me!

I told her that I loved K-dramas, kimchi and bulgogi (she said that are no good Korean restaurants around here but there is one at a gas station - yeah, strange, but one of my colleagues had mentioned that place before because she always eats out). Then, we spoke about K-pop - we both agreed about Super Junior and Rain!! (another high-five!)

She is obviously closer to my daughter's ages but she thought that I was "cute". She said that she has never met a "white" person who likes K-dramas and K-pop - however, she told me there is a black girl that she works with who also loves K-dramas. She suggested that we form a club! I told her that I would love that - I actually got to speak a little Korean with her and she taught me some grammar basics. (along with a new phrase).

Anyway, she will text me when my glasses are ready for pick up. I know I don't have much longer here but maybe I can get the use of one of the rooms at the community center to use a big screen for a Korean movie night??? I haven't felt this excited since I spent that evening with my friends who work here.

Currently, I have two friends via Facebook who also love K-dramas and K-pop but they both live in California -  one is learning Chinese (she watches more Taiwanese dramas) and the other is Filipina (also trying to learn Korean). Oh, and one of my old college friends adopted Chinese daughters so he is raising them with a love for their culture and they are Girls' Generation fans - so he is familiar with some of the K-pop and sometimes shares song links with me - and listens to ones that I post.

So exciting to meet someone who wouldn't mind teaching me some more Korean! Thank you, God, for chance encounters! (God-incidences!).

Headaches and dreams

I awaken from sleep with a raging headache. This happens every now and then, particularly when the dreams seem exceedingly "real".

Who knows what triggers the images that appear in my dreams? I don't write my dreams down (my mother used to keep a dream journal) but so many of my dreams are like nightmares that I don't want them written down to re-hash (if they are particularly upsetting, then they will return). Yes, my mind does re-runs!

So, what was the focus last night/this morning? I was raising children - all children whom I knew and recognized but were not biologically mine. In my dream, my  biological children were all grown up (as they are) but I was raising some of their friends/boyfriends and an additional child who was supposedly one belonging to my husband. I even had a long conversation with her mother about how I was raising/teaching her (and her mother was one of his old girlfriends - from before we got married - and she was in total accord as to how I was raising her child).

I had deep conversations with several people throughout this dream - giving it a very "real" quality. I was checking homework for these children. Their ages weren't lining up with my children's - for example, one former boyfriend of one of my daughter's was younger than her in my dream and I was scolding him for his lack of concern about his grades - doing his work only half-way.

The images are still quite vivid and my head feels as though it is splitting. I am experiencing the tinnitus that accompanies some of my migraines. And, the priest, in his homily today in Mass, mentioned that he saw his old high school teacher who used to buy all kinds of things to help his students learn and thanked him for caring for all of them so much. He realized that his teacher (who was a Brother) didn't earn much of a salary. (That struck a chord!).

You will hear teachers speak all the time about "their" kids. There are students we never forget because of the concerns we had for them or because they were shining lights in our days but once we have taught a child that student will forever be one of "our" kids.

So, why were my babies their rightful ages in this crazy dream? Probably because they have grown up well. They are such beautiful people - shining in the Lord's grace - much better than I ever was or will be. Thank you God for taking my parenting mistakes and redeeming them all for such a beautiful legacy - even reminding me of that in my dreams!

Saturday mornings

After a difficult week at school, Saturday mornings are my time to "re-charge". After taking care of the dog, I spend my time sipping on coffee, scrolling through posts (praying for requests on my feed), and relaxing in my recliner.

Depending on the time of year, sports events may be on in the background. I love college football and basketball seasons! Not only do I enjoy watching and rooting for my teams but I truly enjoy the sports involved. For someone like me, the Olympics are always an exciting series of events that almost keep me glued to the TV.

This is also a time that I use for my own studies: whether it is through reading for knowledge, learning new vocabulary in a foreign language, or even just relaxing with a good novel. What do I study? Well, learning more about theology and apologetics, currently Korean studies and Spanish/Chilean dialect (youtube videos work well sometimes for both), new advances in science: particularly my field of biology but having to pay attention to chemistry and physics due to the courses that I am currently teaching.

Saturdays are also my time for mundane activities: I clean, do laundry, put things away, pay bills, and feel more like a normal person. The week is so focused on lessons, discipline, grading, paperwork, etc., that I don't feel as though I have any time to be "me". I appreciate mass on Sundays but regret that I have not found any nearby parishes with daily masses that I can attend or have adoration chapels where I feel comfortable going in the midst of the night.

Transition: I know that's where I am right now. This too shall pass. I am stuck in a couple of places at the moment. My journeys will continue - everything just hasn't fallen quite into place yet for me to plan specifics. Hopefully, soon.

Plan B

My brother says that you always have to have a Plan B. Obviously, Plan A is not working out well for me so it is time to focus on making the best of Plan A as it unravels while putting together a solid Plan B.

Main Foci in life:
1) Family
2) Faith
3) Learning
4) Work

Yes, work is purely so that I can take care of the other things in my life. Yes, I am an ambitious person to some extent - but I have never had to succeed to the point of being the manager/supervisor/leader. I am perfectly fine being the worker bee - not the Queen.

Why? Because family/people come first. What truly matters in life comes down to relationships and the good that you were able to do for others. God knows that my babies and their families are everything to me. They have kept me going throughout the years. Choices I have made to focus on the family instead of on career -

Every new community meant plugging into the Church, the schools, and the library. Why have I not been following the basics during this latest move? Fear, trepidation, anxiety, depression - all these have taken over my personality. When did I lose my self-confidence? I used to feel as though I was a strong person. It's been years now since I have felt that way.

I have hills and valleys that I experience during my struggles. Sometimes I feel as though I am truly succeeding and then I end up experiencing the lows once again. God is speaking to me (sometimes I tell him that he needs to hit me over the head so that I hear) - but I do need to be able to listen and to follow obediently.  I see how well my babies listen and follow Him and I am reminded of all the years that I spent on my knees placing their welfare in His hands since I couldn't always be there to protect them.

Now, He is clearly telling me that I need to start asking for things for myself. I have neglected myself for too long. What is it that would make me feel more whole? Teaching is no longer a joyful experience - however, I need to count my last days of teaching - not with fear and trepidation - but with doing my absolute best to at least reach the few who are trying to learn so desperately in the environment that they find themselves in. If I can do this, then I can at least bring some hope/learning to those who are receptive.

In addition, I need to look at what will help me grow in my own faith and learning. I have been so inundated in having to learn subjects that are not my field that I have neglected my faith studies and my own quest for knowledge in learning a new language. Those are some of the things that keep me looking forward rather than backward. St. Helena is such a beautiful role model for me - as are many of the saints as I learn more about their lives and their struggles. And, yet, they became saints. Isn't that what we all seek? Not for glory - but to be the workers for our Lord and to make a difference in others' lives along the way?

The readings for the Gospel today deal with the prodigal son. There are two "prodigal" sons in my life. One is my husband (yes, he is still truly my husband regardless of the papers existing of a civil divorce) and the other is a young man whom we took into our lives who decided to disappear.  Both of them have made their choices to "break" family ties. They remain in my prayers. But, I have to remember to focus on those who remain in front of me.

God has blessed me with so much and I need to focus on that part of my life. What gifts do I have that I need to share with others? This is Laetare Sunday - as Isaiah reminds us: "rejoice with joy, you that have been in sorrow". 

I have a true plan B mulling around in my heart and my head. Another move is coming up in my near future - thanks to the love and blessings of my children - but I need to fully prepare for it so that I am not a burden - and am a blessing to them as well. 

Saturdays

Today is a beautifully brilliant bright day. I enjoy warmth - it's a bit chilly at 54 degrees - but this is winter and I could be in a much colder place at this time.

My tasks for the day include: cleaning the kitchen, grading papers, taking care of the dog, and general straightening. I will intersperse this with reading, prayer, relaxing, and either enjoying a K-drama/movie or K-pop.

This is a time of healing. Surviving - the best that I can.

Since my new meds, I can report that I can breathe more easily (I don't feel as though there are bricks weighing down my chest), the panic meds seem to be more effective, and I've noticed that when I work against my tachycardia meds, a migraine ensues. Which means: I feel more normal. The depression never truly leaves but I am not so immersed that I can't function - nor recognize my blessings. Yes, I fear going out and about on my own - but that is an "introvert" thing. I could do it if I absolutely had to do so.

My word for the day: gidaryeo. (Wait (for me)). Learning how to be patient and to wait. Eventually, the house will sell, I will move out of the apartment, I will move forward.

However, this is my song:

Daily Struggles - and Blessings....

It was a tough day at school. However, in the midst of the anxiety, stress, and worries of the day, I was blessed by the actions of several children. 

Near the end of my first class, someone sprayed something in the room that shut down my airway fairly quickly. I immediately had a student raise the back window while I stayed up by my desk. I could feel my strength waning but I didn't want to show much of a reaction when it was almost time for the bell to ring. Apparently, it was evident to a couple of students that I was in distress because one of the girls came up to me and commented that my face was really flushed - she asked if she should call the nurse. I told her that I would be fine - not to worry. As the room emptied, she stayed behind and asked me again if I was okay. I told her that I had some medicine in my closet and she walked with me to make sure that I was fine. She didn't leave until after I had retrieved my inhaler. She told me that she didn't see who had sprayed it - and apologized. What a sweet child! 

During lunch time, three students stopped by to check on me. They were concerned as to whether or not I was okay. I told them that I was doing fine and thanked them for stopping by. (I must have looked as bad as I felt when they had left my class earlier...so much for trying to hide my symptoms). 

After school, I had another student show up for help with his chemistry. He pulled out his phone with a photo of Elvis etched into the back of it and commented that was his favorite singer of all time. I laughed and told him that I was a big Elvis fan but I was surprised that he was. It was his mom's favorite singer - she passed away a few years ago - and they used to sing Elvis songs in the kitchen while she cooked and he did homework. Then I find out that he was adopted - and that he has a 5 year old little brother (also adopted) by his foster parents. This young man shared with me that he is going to enlist in the army, plans to pursue studies in meteorology, and make his mom proud. His mom had to have been a very special person. What a gift I received today!

Gwaenchanhayo

"It's all right/okay" or "Are you all right/okay?" Difference being intonation, of course!

I have thoroughly enjoyed delving into my Korean studies today. No, I didn't binge on watching K-dramas or listening to K-pop. I actually spent time writing/studying Hangul and learning vocabulary.
Waeyo? I don't know if I can even explain it. I have always loved studying etymology/linguistics/languages - my Dad instilled that in me when he started teaching me Spanish when I was only 5 years old. He set up a little classroom area in his "office" and taught me from an old brown book that I think first belonged to my maternal grandmother (a high school Spanish/English teacher).

Over the years, I added German phrases (my German grandmother!), French, Italian, Japanese (something about a Girl Scout badge way back when) - learning polite words in many languages. (Please, thank you, excuse me, you're welcome, etc.). During junior high, I had a social studies teacher who instilled in me my love of Russian history (Miss Hamilton). Then, in high school, I participated in the pen pal program: gaining "friends" in Morocco, Germany, South Africa, Hong Kong, and Ireland. I wish I could say that I am still in contact with all of them - but I am not. I do still have their letters and photos. I wonder if they have mine. I became fairly fluent in Spanish during my high school years, testing out of my foreign language requirement for college, but fully intending to go on to study Russian language during my college years.

I did that - adding linguistics and literature classes to my curriculum. Linguistics class was taught by one of the Russian language professors - and it introduced so much about etymology, different forms of dialects, etc., sparking my love even further. I don't recall the Swahili that we learned during that class but I remember that it was one of the languages we covered. While browsing the college bookstore, I picked up additional books on learning Gaelic and Chinese. I tried teaching myself those languages, too. I don't know why I didn't ask one of my friends on campus to tutor me - maybe because I was so focused on my major in Russian? When I returned to college, I continued with studies in "The Language of Medicine" and learning Signed English. I went on to use the Signed English as a social worker - assisting me with the American Sign Language that some of my clients used.

It is true that if you don't use it, you lose it. I don't speak Spanish or Russian very well anymore - even though I had once achieved a decent level of fluency. I do understand much more than I can speak. It was nice for awhile when I had local friends of Hispanic descent who would force me to use my Spanish once again. One by one, they got transplanted. *sigh* However, I saw my children make good use of the excellent teachers they had in high school and conversing with their Mexican friends.  I am impressed with their talent!

My dad had that talent: learning/speaking/writing in eight different languages. And, yes, he started learning Russian on his own when I was studying it in college! He was raised in a bilingual household: German remaining the language at home until his great-grandmother passed away when he was 12 years old. In addition, my maternal grandfather was fluent in both Spanish/Portuguese and worked for the United Fruit company - flying back and forth between the US and South America in the early 1940s. Oddly, my mother has no ear for language, nor does she seem to have any desire to learn any other languages. When I told her what I was doing today, she remarked "whatever floats your boat" and her tone was very flat. I sense that she doesn't approve at all. I don't think she ever really approved of me learning Russian either come to think of it. My dad is the one who bought me all of the foreign language books....

My daughter inadvertently sparked my interest in Korean by introducing me to K-dramas. The fact that her mother-in-law is also Korean contributes to my desire to welcome/embrace her language/culture into our own. I have always admired Asian men - dated a young man in college who was Korean/Japanese and another who was Chinese - not counting the others whom I had crushes on/friendships with. Then, years later, my best friends happen to be Japanese and Filipino. I was learning some Tagalog until.....I won't go there. Anyway, Korean is phonetic (like Russian!) - now if I could just master memorizing the alphabet! I am on toddler level right now - just basic words/phrases.

Letting go of my past, walking away from teaching, and learning what I want to learn. Gwaenchanhayo!

Receiving my nudges:

I've prayed for guidance and, gently, I am getting little hints and nudges. Today, I officially resigned my position as of June 1st (the end of the school year). That means I'm done with teaching in schools. Maybe I'll tutor, or return to parish religious education in the future, but the passion is gone. I had to turn in a letter of intent first thing this morning - I listed "relocation" as my reason.

What I have learned over the weekend:
1) I wanted a smaller town so that I could drive less - instead, I am driving more. And, there is no public transit system in place that would allow me to not drive to some of the places I need to go. I see accidents every day - something I just don't recall seeing anywhere else.

2) My big bro and his family go out of their way to check on me and get me out - but they are reaching a point where they want to travel more. I don't want to be their third wheel - they truly deserve time exploring things on their own. I love and appreciate all that they are doing with me and I will treasure this time here always.

3) I've enjoyed spending time with my new church friend and her neighbors - they are trying to convince me to move to their neighborhood. Strike #1: it feels as though it is in the midst of the boonies and, during the flood, they were totally cut off. Strike #2: it has a very strict HOA - where people actually report their neighbors because a Christmas wreath on the door is wider than 18 inches across. Strike #3: it's a 55+ neighborhood and it seems like I am hanging out with my mom and her friends (I feel too young even if I'm not).

Maybe I need to head back home when my lease runs out (if the house still hasn't sold by then). I will make that decision when summer-time draws near. For now, I still have a job and an apartment. Time to make some memories here (without being as stressed about everything).  I need to get to the beach - still haven't gotten there!

Vertigo (and realities)

There was a time when I would never, ever miss church. Part of that was because I didn't always have to drive. Now, I have missed several Sundays - here and there - due to illnesses, floods, etc. I try to watch Mass on EWTN when that happens because I don't want to miss my time with Jesus. Of course, I always feel as though I can talk to Jesus - but it is more comforting to actually be in his presence.

Vertigo has hit me off and on this week. Not as badly as it did several years ago when I couldn't drive anywhere and missed several days of work but it is a bit scary when you get that spinning feeling when sitting in traffic. I truly don't want to cause an accident because I lost it momentarily. I did experience one day at school where I was extremely nauseated and actually had to sit on a stool in order to make in through the lectures of the day. Since then, it has come and gone at odd times - nothing predictable. I fell off of my desk chair one morning - fortunately while it was my prep time and not during class. Random, I know - totally lost my balance and knew I was going to fall. Couldn't stop it though. If I was to get up right now from my recliner, then I would fall over. I can totally feel the imbalance and the tinnitus has started up again.

I can't afford to take another day off this next week because I have to go in to see a specialist the following week. In weighing pros and cons, since the vertigo is a symptom of migraines, I really should consider living somewhere i would have access to public transportation - or where I could walk to many places. Two pluses to living in town in C'ville: could get to a store for milk if needed and originally the car repair shop was downtown so I could drop it off if I had problems and walk home. I also liked being able to walk to the library or to one of my favorite restaurants. And, I did walk to church a couple of times (even though it was a trek).

So, I guess I should be considering my mobility. Received an email from the school's secretary this week (blanket email to all teachers) mentioning the due date for a letter of intent. I must say that I'm not sure what that is all about. Is it a statement as to whether or not you plan on returning to work in the same position the following school year? Back when I worked at a private Catholic school, we actually had to write a letter basically pleading our case to ask for a job for the next year (I really objected to the tone of that but I did comply).  Now, if I need to write a letter by the end of February committing to a position for next year then I am completely torn. I have no desire to continue working in these exact same conditions: yes, I am doing just fine teaching physical science and chemistry but I extremely dislike teaching in these subject areas because they aren't my "passion". My BS degree is in Biology (love, love, love teaching Bio - particularly cell ultrastructure and anatomy/physiology and zoology) - plus I am licensed to teach English (Language Arts) - (again, love, love, love teaching great literature and creative writing). I enjoy algebra but it isn't a passion - much better than what I am doing right now though. I have no desire to "commit" to a school that still hasn't shown me two things: 1) that I will be allowed to teach in my subject areas only and 2) that I will have "back up" from the admin when necessary.  Plus, it is a 30 minute drive - that's not bad - it's just that when I am feeling like this then I can't even drive 5 minutes away. (not safely).

Here I am - I've moved to an area where the weather is much better but did I really consider all of my needs? The big city near my children is looking and sounding more and more appealing. As I have always said (and one of my daughters pointed out to me), people are always more important. (Sorry about the "double" always in the same sentence).

God, please help me sell my house and make the "right" decision.....

my response and musings regarding "mustbethistalltoride"

"But I remember my wife often saying how exhausting it was for her to have to tell me what to do all the time. It’s why the sexiest thing a man can say to his partner is “I got this,” and then take care of whatever needs taken care of.

I always reasoned: “If you just tell me what you want me to do, I’ll gladly do it.”

But she didn’t want to be my mother. She wanted to be my partner, and she wanted me to apply all of my intelligence and learning capabilities to the logistics of managing our lives and household.

She wanted me to figure out all of the things that need done, and devise my own method of task management.

I wish I could remember what seemed so unreasonable to me about that at the time.

Men Can Do Things

Men invented heavy machines that can fly in the air reliably and safely. Men proved the heliocentric model of the solar system, establishing that the Earth orbits the Sun. Men design and build skyscrapers, and take hearts and other human organs from dead people and replace the corresponding failing organs inside of living people, and then those people stay alive afterward. Which is insane.

Men are totally good at stuff.

Men are perfectly capable of doing a lot of these things our wives complain about. What we are not good at is being psychic, or accurately predicting how our wives might feel about any given thing because male and female emotional responses tend to differ pretty dramatically.

‘Hey Matt! Why would you leave a glass by the sink instead of putting it in the dishwasher?’

Several reasons.

I may want to use it again.
I don’t care if a glass is sitting by the sink unless guests are coming over.
I will never care about a glass sitting by the sink. Ever. It’s impossible. It’s like asking me to make myself interested in crocheting, or to enjoy yardwork. I don’t want to crochet things. And it’s hard for me to imagine a scenario in which doing a bunch of work in my yard sounds more appealing than ANY of several thousand less-sucky things which could be done.
There is only ONE reason I will ever stop leaving that glass by the sink. A lesson I learned much too late: Because I love and respect my partner, and it REALLY matters to her. I understand that when I leave that glass there, it hurts her— literally causes her pain—because it feels to her like I just said: “Hey. I don’t respect you or value your thoughts and opinions. Not taking four seconds to put my glass in the dishwasher is more important to me than you are.”

All the sudden, it’s not about something as benign and meaningless as a (quasi) dirty dish.

Now, it’s a meaningful act of love and sacrifice, and really? Four seconds? That doesn’t seem like the kind of thing too big to do for the person who sacrifices daily for me.

I don’t have to understand WHY she cares so much about that stupid glass.

I just have to understand and respect that she DOES. Then caring about her = putting glass in dishwasher.

Caring about her = keeping your laundry off the floor.

Caring about her = thoughtfully not tracking dirt or whatever on the floor she worked hard to clean.

Caring about her = taking care of kid-related things so she can just chill out for a little bit and not worry about anything.

Caring about her = “Hey babe. Is there anything I can do today or pick up on my way home that will make your day better?”

Caring about her = a million little things that say “I love you” more than speaking the words ever can.

Yes, It’s That Simple."

One of my Catholic friends posted this on her wall. I wanted to respond on his blog but I just couldn't bring myself into that "realm of criticism". There were a lot of mean things said in answer to his words. I know that he is trying to make sense of it all. How can there be any sense? He doesn't have the "Catholic" perspective because he doesn't view himself as still being married - he refers to himself as divorced and single. He is taking it as a learning experience and moving forward. I am not divorced and "single" - I am alone but still married in the eyes of the Church. Once upon a time this really meant something in our societal values. Today's world is much more selfish - "if I think it, then it is my truth" and no one can infringe upon that. Just look at how you can "name your own gender" and everyone has to go along with it. Sorry, I still don't want someone who is biologically a man in the same bathroom as me - I don't know if he really "believes" he is a woman or if he has just found another way to victimize women. I'm not in his head but I can readily identify the biology.

So, how do I deal with this information? I've done what he's done - "what if?" What could I have done differently to preserve my marriage? I never stopped loving my husband no matter what he did. I kept thinking that our vows and God and love would win out. Wrong. So wrong. Even when I saw it spiraling out of my control, there was nothing that I could do at that point. 

Once she started taking all those little acts personally - there was nothing he could have done. He could have started putting that glass in the dishwasher but she wouldn't have recognized it. She was already emotionally gone. Where did she go? Who did she go to? Or did she just want her own space? One thing that I have learned from the men in my life - true story: men don't leave until they have someone new to go to.....and they will make up reasons as to why they had to go. Mine hated me because I was "too old, too fat, too ugly, too stupid, and too Catholic". His actions and demeanor towards me just compounded the depression and anxiety from my PTSD with the normal symptoms of menopause. I felt as though I was losing my mind at times - not being able to recall the "name" of a dishrag (I knew what it was but I couldn't say what it was) - so I guess that could have been me becoming "stupid" after having been called a "brain" all of my life. Suicidal thoughts - I struggle with them so often - but I now recognize that they are just a symptom of my panic attacks (not something to act upon). I still am discovering that I am having difficulties trying to learn new things. I just can't grasp new concepts as easily - I can feel myself shutting down but I can't always stop myself. It's frightening at times. 

The most frustrating thing of all is that all of the medical tests come back that I am "normal". Which means that all my physical symptoms - the migraines, the loss of memory, the feeling of panic that can last for hours  (making my heart pound out of my chest), the depression - crying without being able to stop, the total shutdown and inability to perform simple daily tasks (like putting that dish in the dishwasher), the inability to breathe - sometimes leading to actually passing out or hyperventilation, basically all comes back to childhood trauma and PTSD - meaning it truly "all" is in my head - or my hormones when it is coupled with the menopausal symptoms. This is why I hate going to the doctor - no one ever tells me that there is a reason for all of my symptoms - just that physically speaking - I shouldn't have any of my symptoms (my neurologist was the only one who took it all seriously). As my father always told me - "I'm not going to tell you the side effects because you are a hypochondriac"....so there is my first diagnosis (the heart murmur wasn't discovered until I was 24 years old). 

What should I do? I know psychologically that I need a "safe place". I haven't found it. I used to feel that in my house (and back yard) - but that got "stripped" from me. Going to the chapel in the middle of the night sometimes helped me deal with those feelings - because I could feel safe with Jesus. I'm in a better place weather-wise (cold is so intrusive) but I am definitely not someone who thrives in an apartment-environment. All the noises from my neighbors trigger the anxieties - the sounds are just as jarring to me as a telephone ringing. (I realized that I'm probably just hearing normal sounds but they seem magnified in this environment). I have to lock my door just to step out into the yard - no "safe" feeling there. 

My "brain" capacity seems to be overwhelmed with learning Chemistry and Physical Science. Other tasks that should be extremely easy for me are incredibly difficult. I cannot multi-task without triggering the panic. Today I truly don't feel as though I can handle anything other than grading papers and preparing for classes tomorrow (so I can "survive" one more day). I have to deliberately focus and distract myself with "normal" tasks so that I don't go into panic mode. My new mantra is "Do not rush, do not rush". Step by step, walk myself through it. Is this all my lesson on learning how to "let go and let God"? I keep failing in that - I pray, I go to mass, I spend time trying to build my faith, and I still panic. 

It is comforting to have Jack. He helps me to feel "protected" and I have to get up and take care of him even when I don't feel strong enough to take care of myself. I guess I have never learned to just be me. I have always been some kind of a "care-taker". Is that a valid personality type? Maybe that's why my husband left?