The Diversity Projekt
Empowerment for All People of Color
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Archive of "The Medic" Category
New (somewhat scary) Territory
I am going to keep this somewhat short and sweet, because if I muse about this for too long its just going to snowball into more than it is or should be. We all know that I overthink things, so this is an exercise in just getting my thoughts out without beating a dead horse (too much). I rarely every write about this. I sure as hell never post these thoughts here. However, since I am giving into this new lifeblogging identity,
I had a realization this weekend. I’ve always been in relationships where I have settled – settled for less than I deserve, for people who were wrong for me for many reasons, and most profoundly, settled for people who settled for me and never failed to remind me of it. While I have moved beyond much of that baggage, sometimes insecurities still comes up. I’ve learned to keep said baggage in check, but nevertheless…..yeah!
Despite some violent stomach issues this weekend I got quite a bit of work done on cleaning up the back end of TDP, including cleaning out my draft folder and lots of thinking about future blog posts. I also found some quiet time for reflection. Actually, a light bulb went off. I realized that for the first time in my life I am in a relationship where neither of us are settling, where I don’t feel like second best, like I am the “right now” girl. It took my breath away. Things are so different with the Medic. Although I sometimes let my insecurities get the best of me, feeling and knowing that I am right where I am supposed to be puts those feelings in check. I feel extremely loved and valued and cherished. I really can’t even begin to find words to describe how I feel.
Anyway…that is all! I am off to bed. Until next time!
Lessons Learned…or something like that!
One of my favorite movies is The Holiday! It has all of the ingredients that makes for a good Hollywood love story, especially a holiday love story. You have the Playboy (Jude Law), the Goofball (Jack Black), the Heartbroken Girl Next Door (Kate Winslet), and the Beautiful Success Producer (Cameron Diaz). Two women, jilted by love in their own unique way, trade homes for the Holidays, only to find love half way around the world.
Of course there was the happy ending, but not until after the conflict. What is the conflict, you ask? Well, that’s complicated. You have a dash of unrequited love and testosterone inspired head games, but in the end the biggest hurdle is the distance, at least for the Playboy and the Producer. The Playboy lives outside of London with his two girls (his wife died a few years ago) and the Producer lives in LA. Neither of them travel to each other’s city. They are at an empass. Although the movie has an extremely happy, mushy ending, you never learn how they deal with their distance.When I first saw that movie I said to myself “I will never ever date someone long distance.” It had always been my line in the sand relationship wise. The only reason I even considered dating Dawn was because had applied to Rice before we got together. I would have been in Houston anyway. However, when I decided on Villanova, I ended things with her. I wasn’t negotiating. Little did I know that I would meet someone who captured my heart and turn my world upside down to such an extent that I would rethink my position on long distance. I actually never gave the distance a thought. I knew from the first conversation that the distance was temporary. I didn’t know who would move or when or how, but I knew that we would work through it.
Nevertheless, I have had to learn to process a whole host of emotions unique to long distance relationships, or maybe they are just unique to me. I have never missed anyone before, at least not someone I have dated. I am learning how to balance missing the Medic while not coming off to needy. I am not sure how much I succeed at this, but it is a work in progress. I have learned to listen more and talk less. Yes, this is a challenge for me in general, but long distance requires a while different set of communication skills that I didn’t really posses in the past.
Patience. I am not a patient person. I gave up working on that years ago. Instant gratification is highly under rated (kinda like nap time). The last 20 days have been challenging. I know people have been doing long distance for years, see each other once every month or two. I am pretty aware of what I can and can’t do and, that would be right at the top of my list. Ok, so back to my point – 20 days is way too long to not see the Medic. So, we are working on an every other weekend kind of deal. The Medic’s schedule is far more flexible than mine, but I am working things out. I may be able to work remotely on more occasions. I am still trying to figure that one out. I know that I am not a patient person but I am extremely intentional about what this transition means for the Medic. Cryptic, right?!
Vulnerability. I sometimes find myself completely incapable of communicating how I feel. What’s at the heart of this? Feeling vulnerable – I’m not good at it. Well, that isn’t completely true. I am better at certain aspects than others. While I can allow myself to be physically vulnerable with the Medic, being emotionally vulnerable is a whole other issue. I was mortified when I burst into tears in front of her during a visit to the Tundra. Perhaps that is the German part of me. All the messy stuff is to be kept behind closed doors – the crying, the self-doubt, the chaos. I am not saying that I am stone cold or that I don’t allow for the bringing down of walls. I share many of my layers with the Medic, but it has been a process. I’ve let down a lot of walls. I am not sure if it would have been so natural to do so if we had been living in the same city from the beginning. I think that I would have probably asked for more space. Not that I am totally sold on won over to the idea of long distance, but there are some benefits. Like the extent to which you get to know someone, beyond the surface. You have to cut through all of that, all the niceties and reach to the core of a person. Otherwise I think you would lose interest fast if things remain shallow.
I feel like I am completely off from where I set out to take this post. I am not sure if I have an actual point. I started it when I was having a moment. I hit my threshold of how long I could be separated from the Medic. I didn’t want to seem too needy, so I began to write. I hate being or seeming needy. Or is it admitting that I need her? I’ve never really felt like I needed someone in my life. Is there really a difference? All I can say is that I am working on it.
Really, it is that scary!
Welcome to Kathrin’s somewhat bumpy trip down memory lane of traumatic needle episodes!
Trypanophobia – an irrational and often intense fear of hypodermic needles or injections – though it is often incorrectly called belonephobia, a name which simply denotes fear of pins or needles, without referring to the medical aspects.
Blood, sweat and tears….literally! Being within 50 feet of a needle puts me into a panic. Just thinking about them sends my pulse through the roof.
The back story is quite complicated, made murky as I only remember bits and pieces, so bear with me. I think much of it stems back to when I was 8 or 9 years old. My dad and I used to go to this military clinic in Germany every couple of months for testing. I don’t remember specifically why I was having the tests done, but it had something to do with my bone structure. The reason really isn’t pertinent to the story. Every time was traumatic, but the very last appointment took the cake. I remember the lab tech continually missing my vein. I remember my dad getting angry. I remember being hysterical. I remember my dad yelling. I remember the look on the lab techs face. I remember leaving. And…that’s all she wrote! Since then I have had major issues with needles. Ok, well…full stop! I remember getting my tonsils out when I was 6 or 7 and wanting to go home with the IV still in my hand. It was a huge to do for them to touch by hand. Full blown fit ensued!
My phobia grew from there. Most doctors and dentists that I have encountered since then have been patronizing, condescending and quite impatient with me. Some of them told me to suck it up, to act my age even. None of that has been extremely helpful in managing my phobia let alone helping me move beyond it.
Several years ago I thought about addressing this issue in therapy. I initially started therapy because of The Ex. Talking to someone helped me begin to see how damaging that relationship was and ultimately helped me cope (and not react) when she pulled her final power play. After several months it felt like I was moving on, so I decided to use my therapy time wisely. We had some initially discussions about my fear of needles. I remember the day I began to tell her the back story and her response….”this doesn’t make you a whip…it makes you a special needs patient.” Well…the walls went up and that was all she wrote! Being characterized a special needs patient felt worse than being considered a wimp…at least in my mind.
I ended up researching this phobia even after I stopped going to therapy. I am a combination of associative and resistive, save for the fact that I don’t have any violent responses to needles. Flight yes, fight no! I am not really sure what exactly I am afraid of. I am not afraid of pain per se (well we shall revisit this in another post). I can deal with immunizations and injections. I dealt with Depo several yrs ago to regulate my cycle. I can even psych myself up for the dentist. However, IVS and giving blood…hot mess!
I finally got up the nerve to schedule my annual exam WITH labs. A lot of recent discussions motivates me to finally take that step. I rarely ever avoid my annual check up, but the lab component has always been more complicated. So, I did the bravest thing I knew how….I scheduled it for when the Medic is in town. I already thought about what excuse I could come up with to get out of it. I know the Medic won’t let me, but still….the thought crossed my mind! How the hell do I get out of this?!
So here is the question – do I want her to hold my hand or if possible, do I want her to do it? I have no relationship or track record with a lab tech at my doctors office (since I haven’t had blood work done in four years…maybe more), so that is going to make me nervous. So, who I trust more is a given. However, if she is doing it, then she can’t hold my hand. Yeah the rational part of me thinks this thought process is absolutely absurd!
Thoughs?
Square Peg, Round Hole
I have been that girl before! Everyone knows her or has been her before. You know, the one who gets into a relationship and disappears into a vacuum, into the new relationship black hole. I knew it was unhealthy each and every time. I knew that things would end badly (even though things often ended for very different reasons but the disappearing act contributed to the dissolution), but I made the choice anyway. I probably owe some amends, as none of my friends deserved to be treated like that – good enough to hang out with when I was single but expendable when I was coupled. That’s definitely not the message I wanted to send, yet its what I did over and over again.
I always felt – subconsciously – that I was compensating for something that was lacking in the relationship. There wasn’t enough or right form of communication, or honesty, or depth of understanding, or laughter…the list goes on and on. So, if there wasn’t enough of all those things, then we were going to spend every waking, non working moment together. Perhaps my past partners also sensed something was missing as their choice was often quantity over quality time as well. The controlling and abusive relationship not withstanding – most of my relationships were of this sort. While I was always non-committal at first, each one built into entities with little substance despite the amount of ‘together time’. Nevertheless, I often made the choice to invest time in a relationship that was never going to work. I knew it was never going to work, yet giving up just didn’t seem like a viable option. It’s like forcing a square peg into a round hole…..just not going to happen! Someone’s going to break something!
I’ve come to realize that it isn’t a matter of giving up or not. Rather, it has everything to do with being in a relationship that is mutually fulfilling, balanced and thereby healthy. Relationships, while requiring investment from both parties, really shouldn’t always be hard or require painstaking effort to make it feel right. In hind sight, I’d argue that if it doesn’t feel right, then it probably isn’t. Yeah, 20/20 is a beautiful thing, isn’t it? Thankfully I learned this long before the Medic came into the picture.
Speaking of the Medic – one of the things I cherish about our time together is our sense of balance. We almost spend as much time with friends and doing every-day things as we steal private time to just enjoy each other. Nothing is forced or…ok, sometimes getting out of bed requires an extensive amount of motivation, but nothing about us is forced. It just works – we fit. The logistical dysfunction – distance – has helped (or forced us, depending on how you see it) us focus on quality over quantity.
I must admit though that no matter how much I embrace the “absence makes the heart grow fonder” thing, I know that I am not wired for long distance relationships. Yet, trusting her (and myself), the dimensions of communication we have developed and the temporariness of it all keep me from wigging. Oh, and have I mentioned that I am ridiculously in love with her? Yeah…
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