I'm writing, and nobody is listening.  That means I can pretty much say anything I want.  It's good therapy to write.  Especially for someone like myself who has so many feelings in one day that writing about them is good for the soul.

How am I feeling today?  Hmm.... well, my anxiety level for most of today (on a scale of 1 to I'm-going-to-completely-lose-it, 10) was an eight.  It was Jackson's first day of his freshman year.  My baby is in HIGH SCHOOL!  It's so strange to see your children being all growed up and stuff.  So, my day started out feeling nostalgic and guilty (the ever present guilt ball and chain) that I hadn't taken the day off to get my boy off to a great start in his day.  I had to remind myself that, short of holding his 14 year old hand and walking him from class to class, there was nothing more I could have done for him than what I actually did;  I made him a nice hot breakfast of eggs, sausage, and a banana.  I made sure he had nice clean clothes to wear.  I made sure he took a shower and brushed his teeth, and ensured he had his back pack with all the necessary school supplies.  And then the obligatory first day of school pictures that I've yet to post on Facebook, and that was that.  He was off on his own.  Flew right out of the nest and into the school bus that awaited him.  

Next it was my turn to head out into the big, bad corporate world.  I have a career to build!  Yes!  Right before I left however, I noticed our older cat scratching behind her ear.  I've been extremely paranoid each time she scratches because our other newly purchased and much loved and adored kitten came to us with a nasty case of ringworm that was misdiagnosed right from the first moment we noticed symptoms and took her into the vet.  I knew Jasmine would probably get it.  I got it.  Kayleen got it.  I feel gross and tainted and I don't want anybody to step foot into our house for fear that they'll get it, and then the rumor is out:  The Seiferts are dirty people, don't be friends with them.

Back to the cat ear-scratching.  I checked the area and sure enough...there it was in all it's ringworm glory.  I wanted to throw up and scream and cry all at once.  My mind started racing and going to all of the worst-case scenarios.  The worst part of my anxiety and paranoia is that I am fully aware that my actions and thoughts are COMPLETELY irrational.  But it doesn't stop me from going to that deep dark place of angst and worry and anxiety and panic.  Oh, me.... I just can't even stand my own self sometimes, I can't imagine what everyone who has to deal with me on a daily basis REALLY thinks of me.

After I pulled myself together, I finally made it into work where I faced hours upon hours of emails and requests and computers and software programs that created more problems than I was able to solve in one day.  Once again, I can't keep my life in control.  It's impossible.
I finally decided enough was enough and I needed to get out for some lunch.  I drove to a local cafe for some soup and salad (it's home made and delicious).  They usually have a nice quiet spot in the back that I can spread out my school back pack, computer and text books and do some studying in peace and quiet. Unfortunately God had other plans.  I got out of my car and turned around just in time to see a young man (probably in his 20s) collapse onto the concrete in the parking lot and started violently convulsing.  Not even a half a second went by before I sprinted to the young man's side realizing he was having a seizure.  I rolled him over, and started talking to him, trying to get my phone out of my purse to call 911.  Just then another gentleman who was passing by thankfully ran over to help.  I asked him to run into the cafe and let them know we needed help.  Also I was pretty sure the young man worked there because he was wearing an apron often used in restaurants.  Once the cafe employees reached us, I was on the phone with the emergency operators and decided to ask the manager if this young man did, indeed, need an ambulance.  He calmly said, "No".  I informed the operator we did not need an ambulance after all, but it was so completely against what I wanted to happen, that I almost couldn't say the words, "Don't come.  We don't need you after all."  I stepped back, allowing the co-workers to do what they needed.... and I watched a scene unfold in front of me that made me have just a little bit of faith in humanity for a while.  They were so kind, and loving, and gentle with the young man.  They talked to him, and reassured him he was ok and that they were going to stay right there with him for as long as he needed them.  They were able to help him sit up, although it was clear he was mostly incoherent.  They explained to me that this is a fairly regular occurrence, and the young man would be okay.   I stood there watching and listening and feeling numb.  They were going to call his girlfriend who would take him to the doctor.  I believed them and eventually walked inside to order my soup and salad.

My appetite was completely gone.  I couldn't think.  All I could do was replay what had just happened, and process it so that I would understand and be okay with it.  I appreciated the gal behind the counter who once again reassured me they would take care of him.  I finally ordered the artichoke bacon soup and made my way to the back of the restaurant where my original intent was to do some homework.  That did not happen.  I sat there, text book splayed out in front of me, reading the same paragraph over and over.  All the while thinking, "What a sad and frustrating way to live.  Not knowing at any moment if you're going to just collapse right where you stand and start convulsing in front of strangers (or not anyone at all, which to me is worse).  Not being able to know what is happening.  And then eventually waking up two days later (which was the explanation the lady at the counter gave me) not knowing what had happened for the past two days.  Finally the tears happened.  But they were controlled and quiet. After a little more pondering on the event it was as clear to me as it ever could be.  I want to spend my life helping people.  How that looks exactly I am not sure.  But I can tell you this.  It won't be sitting at a desk looking at numbers and dates and doing the same work over, and over, and over without a day's worth of satisfaction and feeling like everything I have done and everything I do does not make one bit of difference.

Then, one last moment.  On my way home I passed a turned over (as in completely upside down) car on someone's front lawn, and there out of one of the windows was the head and body of a man who seemed to be trapped.  As I pulled up to the scene... there were cars stopped dead in the street with swarms of strapping men (and I'm sure women too, although I don't remember seeing any).  They were lifting the car off of the man.  I sat there in my car, stunned, horrified, rubbernecking and thinking to myself, "What is happening today?"  That's about the time the car behind me gave me a polite honk, and I realized I couldn't sit there and gawk.  I put my foot back on the accelerator and numbly drove on home.

I hope that both of those men are going to be okay.

I'm tired and I think I'm going to go to bed now.     This was nothing but rambling straight from my head to the page.  But nobody is reading anyway so, it doesn't matter.  But I do feel better, and that was the whole point of all of this.

~ Goodnight.