I'm making good friends with 5am.
The last time this happened was actually in Moldova- I would wake up ridiculously early every morning. Sometimes I would read my Bible, or pray, or watch the sunrise, or turn on worship music (on my iPod with my headphones) and turn up to the volume and then watch the sunrise, sometimes I stole the guitar and went outside into the frigid morning air to practice my newly learned chords.
This morning I got on facebook.
I guess we all have our shining moments, and this week doesn't seem to be mine.
Yesterday was a little better, and I used my jet lag- induced morning to go to the hospital to visit my grandmother. When they brought in her breakfast, there was no coffee, so I snuck out of the ward to one of the many coffee shops that dot the halls of INOVA Fairfax and returned with a cup os steaming black joe. During my absence, a nurse had explained that they don't serve coffee on the cardiac ward.
Oops.
Last year when I was with Abuelita in the hospital, I followed the rules to a T. No food or drink, the doctor said? I cleared out anything edible and snuck out to eat. No movement, he recommended? I wrestled her to the bed whenever she tried to get up. The whole time she was upset and I was crying, but if the doctor says it, you have to do it, right?
When my mom came to visit, she broke all the rules, and Abuelita called her an angel while screaming that I was trying to kill her.
This time around I wasn't going to be the bad guy. If the nurses got upset and kept her an extra hour for another test, I had no problem letting them be vilified in the eyes of my grandmother while I remained a saint- a sneaky, coffee delivering saint at that.
It's weird being home.
I mean, it's really, really weird.
I don't want to go outside, or get dressed, or even talk to anyone. I was at the hospital all morning, but instead of my usual texting up a storm, I calmly sat and watched. I've been home for a few days now, but the only people who have seen me are the family members who made it to Thanksgiving and my dad's doctor who happened to be walking by.
I don't know who I am anymore.
And I don't say that in a melodramatic, now- it's- time- for- me- to- go- jump- off- a- cliff way, I just mean it seriously.
The old Natalie wanted all people all the time time.
This new Natalie cried when she found out about a surprise party.
The old Natalie loved the holiday season.
This new Natalie can't stand Christmas music or even driving near a mall.
The old Natalie spent quiet mornings sleeping or praying.
This new Natalie ate pumpkin pie in the kitchen, a silent sentry with a headlamp and a fork.
The old Natalie wanted to save the world.
This new Natalie has tried, been beaten down, cried time and time again, and now would compromise with no more jet lag.
I'm over 5am.
I'm over sitting in the darkness with a headlamp, waiting for something to change. So I'm going outside to watch the sunrise and confuse the neighbors with my laptop and purple blanket on top of my dad's car. Maybe later I'll actually go out out. You know, like, with real clothes on and everything.
I'm sorry to everyone who knows I'm home and hasn't heard from me.
I promise, it's me- it's not you.
Hopefully I'll back to normal soon, and then you'll be sick of me. 🙂
And, be on the lookout for details of the real welcome home party. I promise I won't bust out crying this time around, either. 🙂
