I think one of the reasons I’m continually drawn to Lana and her music is because she reminds me that I’m not finished becoming who I want to be, and I can change my mind about that whenever I want.
Guardians of birthdays, holidays and celebrations, ESFJs are generous entertainers. They enjoy and joyfully observe traditions and are liberal in giving, especially where custom prescribes.
All else being equal, ESFJs enjoy being in charge. They see problems clearly and delegate easily, work hard and play with zest. ESFJs, as do most SJs, bear strong allegiance to rights of seniority. They willingly provide service (which embodies life’s meaning) and expect the same from others.
ESFJs are easily wounded. And when wounded, their emotions will not be contained. They by nature “wear their hearts on their sleeves,” often exuding warmth and bonhomie, but not infrequently boiling over with the vexation of their souls. Some ESFJs channel these vibrant emotions into moving dramatic performances on stage and screen.
Strong, contradictory forces consume the ESFJ. Their sense of right and wrong wrestles with an overwhelming rescuing, ‘mothering’ drive. This sometimes results in swift, immediate action taken upon a transgressor, followed by stern reprimand; ultimately, however, the prodigal is wrested from the gallows of their folly, just as the noose tightens and all hope is lost, by the very executioner!
An ESFJ at odds with self is a remarkable sight. When a decision must be made, especially one involving the risk of conflict (abhorrent to ESFJs), there ensues an in-house wrestling match between the aforementioned black-and-white Values and the Nemesis of Discord. The contender pits self against self, once firmly deciding with the Right, then switching to Prudence to forestall hostilities, countered by unswerving Values, ad exhaustium, winner take all.
As caretakers, ESFJs sense danger all around—germs within, the elements without, unscrupulous malefactors, insidious character flaws. The world is a dangerous place, not to be trusted. Not that the ESFJ is paranoid; ‘hyper-vigilant’ would be more precise. And thus they serve excellently as protectors, outstanding in fields such as medical care and elementary education.
I don’t know how things got like this. I certainly never saw this in our future, and I wonder where things stopped being the fairy-tale they’d always been. It was easy with you, when nothing else was. We were different. Now, you say you can’t stand school. You can’t stand your roommates. You can’t stand yourself. You give up. You sleep late, I make you coffee, you’re angry because there’s no milk. You’re angry because it’s cold. You’re angry because it’s Tuesday. You’re just angry. Worse, I try to fix it. I’ll go out. I’ll get your sweater. I’ll change the day of the week for you!
And then you’re sorry. You’ll try to be better. You don’t know whats bothering you. You don’t want to push me away. You don’t want me to feel that way, the way only you can make me feel. Just this. Just that. If I just didn’t have to deal with…
I used to feel hurt. I used to be surprised. I used to feel like I could change how you felt, and that our talks were so healthy, and that we were growing as a couple, growing into the adults we planned on. It feels more like growing weeds than growing a garden, these days. I don’t get weepy and sometimes I don’t even try to help. Because this isn’t a bad day, anymore. This is our life, and it’s what I can expect, and that space you make around yourself is a regular guest. That space that I’m slowly, reluctantly, but surely making comfortable for myself.
I listen to you talk. My eyes look at yours, but you don’t seem to notice the lack of eye contact, the lack of communication. I try but I can’t think of anything you would want to hear about. I can’t think of anything worth telling. I go make dinner, because I can’t stand you not understanding. I hope that if I just keep taking care of you, you’ll remember that this is supposed to be what you love to do. I wish you would remember that you love taking care of me. I wish you would act like you love taking care of me.
I can’t ask you to take care of me now. You’re going through something, I know. But you don’t know what. I don’t know what. I know someday, I’m going to need you. This isn’t it for us, this isn’t the hardest thing. We have so much ahead of us, that I know. But is it what we always planned for? Or is it more of this. More of this two-way street of a relationship that feels more like a dead end with no houses. More toughing it out. More making it work (for you). More apologies. More space, space that i’m starting to wonder if you’re creating with a purpose. Space that maybe one day will cushion the final “i’m sorry”, so you don’t have to feel it when you’ve finally had enough. when your subconscious finally lets you in on the secret that, you checked out of this commitment a long time ago.
I know you’re too good for this. I know we’re too good for this. So I don’t give up, and I tell myself stories to remember why it’s okay. But it isn’t. Because we’re too good for this, and if we’re not anymore then what are we doing? Oh we talk about it, and we talk in circles. What do we do now? We cuddle, we kiss, we try to laugh, but it feels like a band aid. You stay up late so you can be alone. And I know in the morning, you’ll sleep late.
And I’ll make you coffee.
Researched and created 22 powerpoint slides on a pregnancy prevention presentation on top of studying for an exam.
Asked my partner to finish the last 2 (!!!) slides so that we could submit it to the professor.
Partner send me back the “finished” powerpoint 2 hours after it was due and goes ahead and sends it in to the professor.
Slide titled “Why is Pregnancy Prevention so Important?” now reads:
"Primarily, introducing abstinence will allow teens to know that by not having sex, the risks of a sexually transmitted diseases, infections, or pregnancies are non-existent. This will allow teens to understand that they have the choice to be sexually active, and by being abstinent they will be making a positive decision.
¨Promoting condom use, during their sexual activities will prevent the spread of a sexually transmitted diseases or infections and help prevent pregnancies. Condoms are a huge risk reduction source to pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases or infections.”
Which is not only BLATANTLY NOT WHAT THE SLIDE IS SUPPOSED TO COVER it is MISINFORMED ABOUT ABSTINENCE and here’s the real kicker IT”S PLAGIARIZED FROM ANOTHER STUDENT.
OH MY DEAR LORD I CANNOT DO THIS.
We are seniors in nursing at an urban research university, and not only do I have classmates that can’t get there shit together enough to make TWO powerpoint slides on time, they fundamentally don’t understand the concept of research and credible sources. They also seem to have gotten through nearly four years of health education thinking ABSTINENCE is the best way to teach teens to prevent pregnancy.
What is my life.
Johnny, the kitchen sink has been clogged for days, some utensil probably fell down there.
And the Drano won’t work but smells dangerous, and the crusty dishes have piled up
waiting for the plumber I still haven’t called. This is the everyday we spoke of.
It’s winter again: the sky’s a deep, headstrong blue, and the sunlight pours through
the open living-room windows because the heat’s on too high in here and I can’t turn it off.
For weeks now, driving, or dropping a bag of groceries in the street, the bag breaking,
I’ve been thinking: This is what the living do. And yesterday, hurrying along those
wobbly bricks in the Cambridge sidewalk, spilling my coffee down my wrist and sleeve,
I thought it again, and again later, when buying a hairbrush: This is it.
Parking. Slamming the car door shut in the cold. What you called that yearning.
What you finally gave up. We want the spring to come and the winter to pass. We want
whoever to call or not call, a letter, a kiss—we want more and more and then more of it.
But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass,
say, the window of the corner video store, and I’m gripped by a cherishing so deep
for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I’m speechless:
I am living. I remember you.
You’re afraid of something, stop being
You want something, go get it
You work hard for something, you can have it
You don’t want to stop, don’t
You want to understand, just think about it
You love someone. That’s all.
While I’m still 100% over this platform of self expression, I find myself needing it again.
Wow I just decided to revisit tumblr, since it’s been a while, and all of a sudden I hate it, and find it not just boring, repetitive, narcissistic, and childish, but intolerably so. I also find that I lack any amount of motivation to find more interesting blogs to follow so
I’m going to Africa I don’t need this shit.
Everything is so out of whack right now and I feel like it’s all out of my control. Even though that might always be true, I’m used to at least feeling like my sense of order and reality and my plans mean something. Right now I could have the best organization, the best ideas, the best intentions and planning and execution, and it doesn’t mean anything, and everything is still shit. The only thing that’s marginally manageable is my school work, but I just can’t care about it anymore.
Everything is difficult, and everything is a mess, and I’m hurting, and angry and feeling so lonely because I just have no say in what happens next. And I don’t know what’s going to get us through this time.
For the first time in my life, I completely forgot to go to class that was specifically mandatory today. Sometimes I don’t have everything as under control as I think I do. It makes it harder to get by on determination when things are slipping through the cracks. I thought this would be very simple, because how many ways can losing a friend go? But the feelings I have are so complicated, and I’m not sure that they’e even all arrived yet. Having to keep the rest of my life in order while I figure it out is turning out to be more of a challenge than I ever would have thought.