One of the feelings I dislike is the feeling of loss, or being lost. My primary example would be related to my father's job when he was still active as an officer. I remember traveling with him as a child; one time more vivid than the rest because I almost boarded the wrong bus and was almost spirited away if not for him being there behind me as I turned around in panic. Being five years old and lost was not a pleasant feeling, and although older I am still directionally-challenged, apt to being lost. I also remember the time I was with him in his quarters that was more of a prison cell really, than anything else. It had the tall, vertical iron bars, the drab gray cement walls and the lack of privacy. But it was homey and fun, our neighbors were officers as well, and their loved ones. What I remembered there though was the one time I woke up with him gone and the door locked. You couldn't blame me for crying my lungs out, distressing the young wife in the cell beside ours, when I found myself locked in by myself. I finally stopped bawling when I figured there wasn't anything that tears could do, I was too tired to care. I stopped wanting to go with him then, a change that my mother noticed, and he had to explain that he left me to go to the bank while I slept, he only locked the door to keep me safe, to keep me in, and keep others out. After awhile it was the same routine, me going with him to work for a week and coming home for the weekends, riding the bus, playing in his office, but he never let me out of his sight. It must have been terrifying for him too.
But enough about childhood, let's move on to a whole 'nother side of distraction. Right now there's a niggling sense of loss that just makes me slightly nauseous. Not of being lost directionally or of being lost because someone left me. I am just lost. Emotionally, perhaps. Or more like I lost myself. Sorry, I am confused at the moment too. So I ramble now. I was an art student. Now I am a nursing student, after three years of prerequisites, you know that by now. I have been taking science classes longer than I have been an art student but I have loved art far longer than science has challenged me. It is a bit convoluted but bear with me. Maybe I feel I haven't let go, I guess I sometimes feel that I am an art student playing at being a nursing student. That still I am not smart enough, or serious enough, or just enough to be a nursing student. But I know I come from people of intelligence and smarts, able to be dedicated to one or more things. Yet I can't help but wish sometimes that yeah I am artist and not a nerd. My freaking fortune cookie today said: "The thing you do is the one you love." Is it? Don't take me wrong, I find no fault in nursing, it is great, it is a wonderful, wonderful profession. But at times my hear just clenches at the sight of pencils, sketchpads, and paint. I want to cry because I resent having to be half-hearted. My mom wants me to do great in nursing school for a lot of reasons, but she also wants me to keep drawing and all that artsy stuff. Sometimes I just want to sneer and say, "just pick one and stick with it will you?", because it still stings to be reminded that I chose nursing over art. I feel that I betrayed a part of me and no matter what I do it won't come back to me.
Maybe subconsciously I resented my mom for having me change my major because when I did, I stopped drawing for two years and when I started again my art went to everyone else but my family. Maybe it's petty but I don't really care. I grimace when she tells people that I am an artist because in my mind that is a lie. So maybe you say, Kat you do not need to be an art major to be an artist. You don't need to be, but I wanted to. I wanted to be the cliched art student that wasn't really cliched because she had her own style and was great and all that. I am so annoyed right now at making such a fuss over this non-issue. It is a non-issue because no matter how much I rant about it I will still be a nursing student because I already committed to nursing. No, I am not changing majors, and no, hindi ako magshi-shift sa Fine Arts (No, I am not shifting to Fine Arts). It's not about "kung san ako masaya susuportahan kita" ("I'll support you if that's where you are happy"). I just noticed myself getting half-hearted on my nursing classes and coveting art, is the reason why I'm having a fit. I feel lost because I am getting coerced by the side that seems to have a more gooey chocolate cookies. I feel because I feel I lost a part of myself and I now realize that I want it back.
Why can't you keep doing art while you study nursing? Because I am an extreme kind of person, I either do it or not do it. This post does not even make sense. It's all pouty and tantrum-ish. Okay, so I guess the fact that it doesn't make sense means that my thought process also cannot make sense of it. I know that it's not nursing versus art. I also know that no one is holding me at gun point and forcing me to choose one over the other. And I also know that I feel strongly about both, enough to warrant me to write it out and subject you with the torment of reading this insanity of a post. Gulo, you are a labo (Mess, you are a convolution). Maybe in a month we can get back to this and iron things out. UGH. Spare me.
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