In

So I moved this week! I now live in my new place. It's great.

Some friends came over to help me move, and that was such a blessing. And my brother came to town to help too and he brought his truck, and I loved that. It took three trips over the span of several hours. I think that the presence of friends made me feel encouraged and made the whole experience much more positive. Thanks, Friends! I appreciated your help so much!

I ran out of time to repack my books so my boxes would be lighter. But I carried the 47-pounder myself, and it didn't kill me! Woo hoo! I was so tired the next day, though.

I like being here. What I notice most is that it is quiet - my television isn't on because there's no one else to turn it on, and there's no one upstairs "sharing" their television and conversation. (Actually I hardly hear my neighbours at all!) So I can read and do homework undistracted anywhere in my place, and I can just sit and enjoy the silence. How wonderful!

I still have a lot of unpacking and some rearranging to do. I need to go buy some more bookshelves. :0) And I still need to go back and clean my old place, and get the last few things out. It'll be nice when that is all finished.

At work I still find myself unconsciously scoping out moving boxes. Then I remember that the moving is done and it feels good.

Death by Moving

I packed a 47 pound box a few days ago. Not that it's a big box - it's medium sized, but it's full of textbooks and deceivingly heavy. But I figured it wasn't that bad. Then today I started taking some boxes over to my new place. I didn't get to that monster one, but the boxes I did move opened my eyes. These weren't heavy boxes, and I only had to climb 25 stairs with them, but it was really hard! I was sweating and out of breath and fearful about future moving efforts. What will I do with the heavy boxes of books? Moving will be the death of me. I'm going to have to try to repack some of those boxes to make them lighter. 'Cause I want to make it to the point where I enjoy living in my new place, not expire before that happens.

Downswing

Snapshots from my day:

Walking to pick my car up at the shop. Thinking about how enjoyable it is to wear boy pants, and how I would blog about that today. About how that's been the personal joke that's brought me much joy lately. :0) Boy pants are awesome!

Skipping chapel. Getting a late start on the day and then going to pick up more moving boxes at work instead.

Mediocre lunch time meeting. (Not as important to me as they used to be...)

Killing time and eating lunch (yay me!) at Wendy's with a good friend. Saving this in my memory bank of ordinary but important times from this, my final year at school.

So far so good.

Going to choir. Singing O Love That Will Not Let Me Go. Finding myself derailed, stability crashing down, issues arising. Not okay for the rest of the day.

Asked to pray at the end of sectional. Asking the section leader to choose someone else.

Standing in the hallway, crying with a friend, who was crying with/for me. Being honest.
"I fear that I will get lost."
"I fear that God's love will let me go."
"It's a beautiful song, but I hate it. And I hate it that I hate it."

Stopping another friend for a hug as we left school. Wishing I could stay there forever, in his safe arms, with his cheek on mine. Answering "I'm kinda grumpy" when he asked if I was alright. Not quite conveying the truth.

Crying on the drive home.

Considering the rest of the evening a write-off regarding anything productive. Popping in a movie that was guaranteed to make me cry more.

Crying at every email I received.
Crying at the movie.
Crying as I write this.

Going to bed with a touch of a headache from all the crying.

Thoughts:

So much for copacetic. So much for doing well.
It almost seems inevitable that I crash.
Bipolar? ...But the highs aren't high or often enough.

When I am not well and I solicit hugs from friends, it is not to give them something or simply to greet them but to try to draw strength and wholeness and wellbeing from them through the contact. I wonder if that's okay-ish...? It really doesn't work but I usually feel like it's worth a try. I wonder if other people do this too, and if some hugs I obliviously give actually involve a cry for wholeness...

I disagree with my own theology. It's one thing to logically and objectively consider doctrines, and another to assess them personally, compared to one's experience.
Where I find myself:
Total depravity? still no
Unconditional election? not sure...
Limited atonement? yes
Irresistable grace? pretty much
Perseverance of the saints? no
It makes me really sad how many things I don't believe anymore (not just related to TULIP).
I don't know how much longer I can stay...
Usually I just try not to think about it. I don't even know how to deal with it.

Those Friends who were there for me today, who I let be there for me, thank you. It didn't make it better, but your company was valuable to me. Thank you for crying with me and understanding. Thank you for the amazing hug. I needed you, and you were there.

Other friends, even those who are closer, more daily friends to me, I'm sorry that I didn't let you in today, and that you had to find out about my crisis on my blog. I just couldn't. For some reason sometimes it's easier to be honest with those who aren't quite so close.

I wonder how long this will last. I wonder if it's just a bad day, and if I'll even remember it next week if you bring it up. I'm sure I'll even out to meh (instead of the current tearfulness) soon enough.

Sigh.

o wondrous love that will not let me go

i cling to you with all my strength and soul

yet if my hold should ever fail

this wondrous love will never let me go

?

Word of the Day: Copacetic

Copacetic: fine, completely satisfactory, okay. (www.dictionary.com)

A guy I used to work with introduced me to this word. I like it.
I wonder, though, how cheery the connotation is. If I say, "Things are copacetic," will it sound like, "Everything's so wonderful!!" or like, "Things are alright."?
Currently I am doing well. Maybe tomorrow if someone asks how I am, I will answer, "Copacetic!" with a smile, and start to spread this word of the day.

Decisions

I've had a couple of decisions come up lately. School-related things. In the big picture they're really not a big deal, but I'm not sure what to choose, and I need to decide really quickly. So I thought that writing might help me process.

The first decision is regarding choir and singing. I probably enjoy it more than I realize, but one problem that I have is that I really don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what is good and what is wrong in singing and it would probably be good for me to receive some personal teaching. I've thought about taking voice lessons, and if I am ever going to do so it should be at a time when I am singing regularily so I can use what I learn - like now, while I am in choir. But the thought really really scares me. It took a lot of effort for me to indicate my interest to my choir director, who's offering voice lessons through the school. He got back to me with a not-so-eager response because I don't want to do it for credit (I don't want to pay more, do a recital, or do a jury for credits I don't need, but it makes it a little trickier for him). Now I don't know if I should pursue this anyways, or just take the easy path and let it pass by. I guess I don't have to take voice lessons from this guy - other teachers wouldn't care so much whether I do it for credit or not.

The second decision I am facing pertains to classes. I have a conflict between two things I want to take this year: Greek and World Civ. (Interestingly enough, these were both classes that I was excited about not taking when I didn't think I was finishing my degree.) I have to take World Civ: it's required for my degree. And I love history, and the Prof seems great. We're talking about Egypt, Greece and Rome in the first semester and I think that will be really interesting. I want to take Greek: I excelled at it last year and that was so affirming, and I would love to learn more. I could even see my future in Greek - when I looked into seminary programs (for fun and possible long-term plans) what really caught my eye was the Masters programs with concentrations in Biblical Languages, the ones that would qualify me to be a Greek teacher.
Both classes are on the schedule at 8:15 on Mondays and Wednesdays. I've known about this scheduling conflict since the Spring and I've done what I can to resolve it. The Prof and the Registrar suggested that I just register for both courses, and Greek (being a small class) would get moved to a time convenient for everyone. When I saw the same schedule, unchanged, come out this fall, I was disappointed and thought this would mean I couldn't take Greek, since World Civ was required for me and Greek was merely an unneeded elective. But the Prof told me we'd just try to hold the class at a different time, regardless of what the schedule says.
It turns out that couldn't be; there is no other time that works for everyone. So the Registrar and Dean are offering me a deal: they will allow me to be exempted from World Civ so that I can be available to take Greek. World Civ 1 will no longer be a requirement for me. I didn't expect to face this choice! I expected that if I could only take one, Greek would have to go, no question. Now that I have to decide, I don't know what I want! (Another factor that complicates matters slightly is that fact that I have already purchased textbooks for World Civ, they were expensive, and I've started hilighting them...)
I will probably choose Greek, it just feels funny to let go of what I thought was a given (World Civ).
I could always take World Civ by correspondance, and I could do that at any time; it wouldn't have to be now since they say I don't need it anymore and it would just be for learning purposes. I was kinda looking forward to taking them both at the same time though - to learn about ancient Greece while learning Greek. But it would save me money to drop a class. But it would be hassle to drop down to part time. But it would give me more time for my thesis, and for visiting and coffee!

Sigh. I don't know what to do with my own life.

Update 09/10/07 I chose Greek. And I think I'm choosing voice lessons from a different teacher.

Party On

So once I move, I plan on actually having people over to my house. No one comes over to where I currently live because I'm not proud to be here and my place is always a disaster (and my roommate was always sleeping on the couch, which made it kinda awkward to have guests), but hopefully that will all change. Here are a list of some social affairs I hope to host:

a Moving Party?
a Housewarming Party
a Blitz Night
a Homework Party
a Thesis Party
a Knitting Party
a Tea Party (please, come over and help me drink all the tea I own)
a Dinner Parties (assuming/hoping I start cooking again)
a Movie Night (hmm, but all I have is VHS...)
- Foot Spa Party
a Chocolate Fountain Party
a Cream Puff Party (that's for you, Danaya)
a Ice Cream Party (perhaps even Ice Cream Making Party)
a Sleepover?

There's the possibility that I will get lonely because I won't have a roommate, so I invite you guys to come and keep me company and be my part-time roommates!

P.S. Those of you who live far away, I miss you!

New Home

I got it! I got a new place to live! It's been pretty sure for a while, actually - they liked me when I went in to talk to them so they bumped me to the top of their list, and they had one available for me - but I have been afraid to get my hopes up, afraid something would go wrong. Anyway, today I went in and signed a lease and wrote out bazillions of dollars in postdated cheques, so I finally feel like I can say that it's mine, it's a sure thing. Yay!
It's an apartment, and I'll live there alone. There's more space than I had expected! All my stuff will probably fit! There's a bathtub and a stove. Woohoo! The stove is Harvest Gold, the carpet is a subdued mustard colour and the cabinets are dark woodgrain, and I was a bit disappointed when I saw the colours because I like living in places that are white and feel new, but it will be okay. My 20-year old multi-brown-coloured couch will feel right at home. And I will have a home. I have 20 boxes packed already.

Back to School

It's school time again. I had my first class this morning.

A week or so ago I was thinking about this return to school and how I felt about it. The past month or so of summer has gone pretty well (well, except for the malfortunate things), and I am feeling pretty good, and I would be okay if summer continued on for another few months. I could handle some more time of going to work every day and not doing homework. But alas, it is not to be, and I have adjusted myself to that realization. So now I am kind of apathetic and meh about going back to school.

It's going to be a lot of work. It always is. And that makes me nervous - my academic work ethic has gone down hill over the past few years. And this year, on top of classes, there are a lot of projects I need to be self-motivated and non-procrastinating about - a practicum and a thesis. Can I do it? I have to.

This is my last year, and I am very aware of that. This whole year will be a long list of "last times" and it's started already. The last time I go to choir rehearsal camp, the last time we sing at orientation day, the last time I start a new school year, the last time I get a new mailbox number. It's nostalgic. And it makes me realize I need to do all I can to value these experiences while I still have them. Like dropping in on profs - something I don't do very often, but something I would like to do a little more and something I won't be able to do very easily after this year. Sigh, I hope to leave with no regrets (but don't know if it's possible).

I must admit that it is neat to be back and to see school people again. There are all sorts of people who I really like, but forgot about over the summer! I came back to sweetness and hugs and people who were glad to see me too. That has been nice.

Known

Tonight a friend mentioned to me that he has noticed that when we talk we often talk about him, even when he intends to ask about me. He wondered aloud how that happens, and asked if I do it on purpose. There's only a handful of stories that I have told him about my life; I've heard a lot more about him than that what I've shared.

This hasn't been intentional, but I can see some reasons. I am incredibly inarticulate about my own life, and I am also uncomfortable with the gap I perceive between who I am and who I have been and who I want to be and who I should be. So it's not easy to talk about myself. Also, I really fear monopolizing the conversation and talking about myself way more than is welcome. It's easier to swing to the other extreme and let the conversation settle on him more often.

Maybe next time we're together I'll tell him about myself. (It's nice that he's interested.) Maybe it will include, "You may have noticed some hints in previous conversations, but I have a problem with depression!" If I'm going to be honest about myself, I've got to say that. I wonder how he'll react.

I fear that once he actually gets to know me he won't be my friend anymore. But... what is the friendship if I am not known?

Just the other day I began writing, "I guess that if you don't know me, there's a pretty good chance that's my fault, not yours."

Nadina

Tonight after work I went out for slush with a coworker friend, and then we sat in the park and talked for three hours. We talked about work and school and relationships and God and depression. It was good.

She said she has had a crisis of faith because of the judgementalism of the church. I told her that I could understand that, and I shared my own doubts, doubts relating to more personal reasons. After seven years of depression (and counting), I can't help but wonder "where is God?" She could sympathize with me, because she is coming to the point of realizing that she can't really just call it teenage angst anymore. I'd wondered if I saw it in her, despite the smiley mask she wears.

Friend, I am grateful for you and for the conversation we had tonight. I'll really miss you if you go.

... We all walk our own paths. My path is not your path; don't take me as a prediction of where you will be in a few years. There's hope for both of us. I'm just grateful for companionship along the way. Thank you.

Inventory

Tonight we did inventory at work, and it was great! We counted everything in the whole store. A lot of people complain about inventory, but I really like it. They complain because the shift is really late and the work is kinda dull. But I think that those things are offset by how it is so different from what we do the rest of the time at work - on inventory night we don't have to deal with customers and we get a chance to work with different people at a completely different task (and the task of organizing and counting agrees with me). Plus - they feed us! Supper, and then beverages and candy all night. The whole atmosphere seems different on inventory night.

I have good memories of past inventories. Way back when I worked in a hairnet department, inventory was the one chance for me to come to work in real clothes and an ordinary hairdo, and to see my coworkers like that too. That was really exciting. Another store I used to work at would schedule us for split shifts on inventory day (the only time they can get away with that), and I have good memories of going out for lunch with a friend during the middle hours. (Mmm, cream puffs!)

This year they assigned me to count "lock up" where all the expensive or easily stolen things are - jewelery and crystal and mini electronic things. This felt like a sign of great favor and trust! That, or they doubt that I can count above ten, hehehe. So along with two others, I spent three hours or so in a small room, reading out item numbers and recording how many the other guy said we had. Fun! After we finished our section, we helped out the other departments. I paired up with Katie to triple count clothing and books that had differed on the first two counts. I have a lot of fun with Katie. We're both at about the same place in life, we've both been around for a while, and we get along. I think we're friends. Working with Katie always ends up enjoyable.

Then end of the night found Katie and I with a bit of overtime, each filling a cup with leftover candy while the managers urged us to do so but then teased us about Hallowe'en and trick-or-treating. I left work tonight in a really good mood. Yay inventory!

Malfortunate

Bad things have happened to me the past month. First I get evicted. Then last weekend I got a speeding ticket on the way to work - the first time I've ever been pulled over. And now my taxes are being audited. hahahaha...

Honestly, sometimes it makes me feel better when things go wrong. It's nice to actually have reasons to feel crappy, and that cheers me up. Better than feeling awful for no good reason at all.

I deserved the speeding ticket, but may fight it anyways on grounds of being poor. I'm not scared about the taxes because I can back up all my claims (and it probably does look suspicious that I told them I was in school for 12 months last year, paid a ton of tuition, and still had substantial charitable donations. I don't blame them for auditing me). And I just about surely found a place to live!

Roommate

My roommate found a place. She's moving out next week. Before me. I'm jealous, because she has been more on-top-of the situation than I have, and fortune has smiled on her. She found a cute place for cheap in a location that would have been perfect for me (super close to school). Plus it all seems rosier since I'm looking through the eyes of envy. Sigh. I've tried to look for somewhere for me but I'm no good at it... Sigh.

It will be nice to be here without her soon, though. I can't keep living with her. Not that she's a terrible person by any means. But I've had enough.

Roommate, here's why I can't live with you anymore:
~ It started a few months ago when I found myself grumpy towards you when I came back after spending a couple days out of town. You were here when I got home and it took you like an hour to ask me how my trip had been. It felt like you were oblivious to my life. And that grumpiness hasn't gone away over the past months.
~ You came home one night upset that someone had accused you of being self-absorbed, and I couldn't help but agree (although I didn't tell you that). I hate it that I think that.
~ I've hit compassion fatigue. I just can't care anymore. I can't handle your drama. My life is not one of wondering if we should call the police because of the rapist at the door and midnight trips to the hospital - but with you in it, it is. You call me every time you're crying, you vent to me about your job and your love life and your family and everything else, you've come home drunk and hysterical asking not for your mom but for "Roommate", and when I go away for a couple weeks you go so crazy that your boyfriend can't handle it and you both start saying "Good thing Michelle will be home soon." It's too much. I miss serenity. I can't be your primary support anymore. I've become unable to care. I've started to resent it whenever you need me. And that is not fair or kind to you (and it's pretty miserable for me too).
~ I come home hoping you're not home. When I hear someone at the door, I hope it's not you. I'd rather be here by myself.
~ I have a pretty good sense of my own personal property - I know what is mine and what is not. And as a result, sometimes I have a hard time sharing. You, on the other hand, are wonderfully generous, and then you expect that I will be the same. You also seem to forget what is yours and what is not. And so everything becomes communal. Well, "everything" and "communal" in the sense that you use a lot of my stuff, but I use very little of yours, and when "my" stuff runs out I am the one to buy more. And that bugs me. Sometimes I just stop having things on hand so that I'm not providing them for both of us or because it's hopeless to buy them because as soon as I do you take them. That's why I don't make ice cream or buy gravol anymore.
~ It bugs me that you use my makeup. You have your own, and I don't want whatever eye infection you get next. It especially bugs me when I find my makeup and brushes in your makeup box - or when I can't find them at all. Recently I tried to bring part of this up nicely - I bought you another blush brush and explained as I gave it to you, "now you won't have to use mine anymore!" I don't know where that one went, but you're back to using mine again.
~ You don't treat things as nicely as I think I do, and so I fear that my things have taken a lot of wear and tear by living with you. You burnt out three blenders before I said I guessed you could use mine until you got another one... And you never did get another one. You were using mine under the condition that you'd keep it super clean, but I think I scrubbed at it for half an hour the other day to get all the grime off it.
~ It still bothers me that you ate some of the super special chocolates that my Mom gave me for my birthday last year. You didn't even ask, you just rooted through the box that I was trying to keep so pristine and helped yourself to what was a special luxury for me.
~ You forgot my birthday this year, or just didn't consider it worth keeping track of.
~ You never say thank you for gifts I give you on special occasions. You never give me gifts on these holidays.
~ I wish I had made a list of everything I owned, especially books and CDs, before you moved in so I wouldn't just have to rely on noticing what I don't have anymore. I know you've helped yourself to my bookshelf, intending to borrow but never returning. After I asked for one book back, you said you'd find it for me but you never did, so I ended up buying myself a new one. I shouldn't have to do that! I noticed I was missing a CD, so I checked your room and found three empty scratched up cases of mine in there (one for a CD you already owned). These were precious to me...
~ Other things have gone missing too. I can't help but think it's you. And I'm kind of suspicious, so I'm kind of paranoid. (Did I have that much shampoo in my bottle yesterday?) But some things are valid concerns. You say you don't know anything about it, but how can we just lose a metal mixing bowl and a pot lid and a casserole dish lid and five spoons?
~ You have slept more nights on my couch than on your bed. Couch cushions don't get washed like sheets do, and my couch is much sadder now after being your bed for so long.
~ I'm embarassed that our place is always such a disaster. That's why I don't have people over. And I can't blame you for that because you do more cleaning than I do, but I think that if it was just me, things just wouldn't get as messy. And I feel too overwhelmed by all the mess to do anything about it.
~ You haven't just done more cleaning than I have, you have done most of the cleaning. So really, I don't deserve to have any grievances. But I do. And although you have shown me much grace, it is not healthy for me to be indebted... And I don't really think it has been healthy for me to be excused from cleaning responsibilities either. I need to look after myself. (Still, thank you...)
~ What you do reflects on me. When you yell at the landlords, they feel upset with "us". When you fight with the lady upstairs, "we" fight with the lady upstairs. "Our" house is a place that has beer when you bring it home. "Our" carpet has melted patches from your hair straightener (well actually my hair straightener that you used constantly). I'm just not sure you're someone I want to be defined by.
- The melted patches on the carpet match the warped patches on top of my television and the holes in my couch cushion. My possessions will forever bear the marks of your hair straightener.
~ I haven't been strong enough to tell you these things. I don't want to cause conflict. I haven't known how to bring them up. So I have buried them and pretended things are okay. And now I am so dissatisfied that I can't keep living this way, but I don't know how to fix it - the only thing I know how to do is leave.
(Sigh... Woe to my future relationships...)

It's not all bad though. We've had fun together. We've laughed a lot. I used to say that I loved living with you, and although that is no longer very true, I won't take back that you are probably the roommate I've most enjoyed living with. And a lot of that came out of your openness and neediness (I used to feel flattered). We've been together for almost two years - longer than I have lived with any other non-family person. Every so often you do things that just amaze me. Yay you.

What I've appreciated most about you (on top of how you've picked up my slack) is how you haven't judged me. If I sleep in 'till noon (or later) or I'm still in my pajamas at 5 or I eat junk for supper or my room is a mess, you don't look down on me. I haven't had to hide anything. And that has been so important to me. Thank you. I would be hard pressed to find that in anyone else.

I'm sorry I can't live with you anymore. I hope you do well on your own.

Invitation

You found me! Welcome to my blog! I'm glad to have you here!

Although FAQ lists are pretty lame, I can't resist the temptation to put one here. Sorry! Here's what I anticipate you are wondering:

Q: Why did you decide to start a blog?
A) I love reading the blogs of my friends. I love seeing what is going on beneath the surface in their lives and hearing what they are thinking. I started to think that maybe I should return that favor to any friends who are interested in my life. Also, there are some things that I want my friends to know but are really hard to bring up, and this is another avenue for me to be known (which is hard but important). And it's good for me to keep a record of my life and thoughts, and knowing that other people are seeing them will hopefully provide motivation for me to put the effort into getting thoughts into words often.

Q: Why didn't you tell us about it sooner?
A) I wanted to make sure that I would actually keep this going before I made it public. I didn't want to get anyone excited about a doomed project. At this point I think it will last - although going back to school in a few weeks could possibly throw a wrench into my hopes to post regularly... But here's hoping!

Q: What's with the title, aMacaria Jade?
A) Most of us know about my "relationship" with the Church Father Macarius (although we haven't talked much lately... me and Macarius, not me and you). Conversations about him and our fling made me realize what a beautiful name Macaria would be for a girl. When I was trying to name my blog, I couldn't think of anything else. In Greek, makarios means blessed or happy. But... I feel neither blessed nor happy, so I stuck an a- on the front, indicating negation. Amacaria on its own seemed a little bare, so I added Jade, referring to how I feel jaded, and combining to make a name that sounds beautiful and feels true to me. aMacaria Jade.

Other comments and considerations:
- Be warned, this is where I express that I'm not as happy as I seem. You'll see glimpses of what's really under the surface. Please be okay with that.
- A lot of what goes on in my life is inspired by other people, and I am trying to decide what to do about name dropping. What I will probably do is this: if you read this or are known by people who read this, I probably won't refer to you by name. I'll call you "Friend" or something, and then I will try to let you know that it is you (unless it is really obvious and I know you'll figure it out on your own). If I'm writing about someone who has no connections to this blog, I'll probably use their names for simplicity's sake and because it won't really matter. If you want to know who I am anonymously talking about, feel free to ask and I'll probably tell you.
- Posts won't always show up in chronological order. I often stretch the writing out over several days, especially when I am having a hard time making my thoughts clear, and some take longer than others. But the posts are generally dated according to when I start them, regardless of when they actually show up on the blog. Just so you know - the newest ones won't always appear on the top. Sorry!
- It turns out that there are lots of words out I don't know how to spell. (separate? regularily?) I often use too many commas. I like to start sentences with "And" or "But".
- I would love to know who my audience is, so please, if you can, let me know if you're reading my blog!

May God watch over us, and may goodness result.

Defn: Neurosis

Neurosis: a relatively mild personality disorder typified by excessive anxiety or indecision and a degree of social or interpersonal maladjustment. (www.dictionary.com)

Four or five years ago, a guy I worked with jokingly called me neurotic a couple of times, which prompted me to look into what it really meant. At that time the dictionary basically just defined 'neurotic' as placing an over-importance on other people's opinions. This was in contrast to 'psychotic', which meant you were really crazy.

I looked up the definitions again a few years ago, and I was unsettled to find out that they had changed. At that time neurotic pretty much meant the same as psychotic, just without the hallucinations.

I'm glad to see that tonight the definition has returned to something not too crazy, something characteristic of many people (as that friend assured me way back when), something that I wouldn't be afraid to say of myself at times. What a relief! Though I'm not sure why...