Four letters.

H.O.P.E.

*Disclaimer: Many inappropriate uses of the French language.  You’ve been warned!*

I don’t believe in the easy life.  I don’t think anyone has ever had it easy.

I’m usually the complainer. The one that feels sorry for herself. The one that cries and gets all emotional. The one that stuffs it, and keeps it all to herself, scared–no, petrified–to admit to others how I truly feel, and I pay the price in the end. I can be a whiner.  And while I have been told that I’m an extremely nice and sweet person, I can also the biggest bitch in the room. Irate. Irrational. Mean. Shitty. Just all around nasty person to others that have hurt me.  You wouldn’t guess it just by looking at me. I can also be obnoxious, and strange.  You’ll roll your eyes because I’m scared to go down escalators (fallen down too many stairs to risk falling down one of those). I may come off as needy, and a little desperate.  Sometime I’m pushy, and sometimes I’d just prefer to follow.

One thing that I am NOT, however, is a quitter.

Even now. I almost threw in the towel. I almost just wanted to throw my biochem textbook in the trash, after seeing yet another failed exam grade, and just give up on school.  But I didn’t.  I won’t

I NEVER WILL.

Despite it all.  Despite my strange learning disability that I am still trying to make sense of; despite the fact that I may actually have Multiple Sclerosis, and am just lucky enough it’s manifested in the mildest cognitive symptoms; despite the fact that I’ve been denied admission to graduate school in the past; despite the fact that I  may be failing my biochem class that I spent many, many, MANY hours studying for, and never managed to even score the average on a single exam; despite all THAT, I am going to keep moving forward.

I remember reading a good friends blog (you may want to check it out:  www.mybluescreen.wordpress.com, I’ve taken the liberty of posting one of my favorite blog posts she’s written about this very topic, just hit the <– button at the end of this post), that had a lovely little phrase she’d shout out to whatever obstacle–be it mental block of shitty person that gets in her way– and that phrase was a simple FUCK-IT!

FUCK -IT that if I’m not doing well in my class.

FUCK-IT if I don’t get into the masters program for bioengineering.

FUCK-IT if things don’t quite work out…right this second.

Just like all those songs that are sung by every soulful africana out there…”you ain’t gonna stop me from doin’ my thang…mmm hmm, heallllll naw!” (not the exact words, but you catch my drift)

I have hope.  More specifically, I have faith in myself, in my abilities, in what I’m meant to do, and what my strengths and talents are.  I have faith in my ability to pursue my passion. And fuck-it all to hell, all the opposition, all the insecurity….all of it!  I am done with feeling sorry for myself.

Wipe my tears away. It’s not worth it.  I’ve encountered far worst.  I can handle just about anything (and I should know…oh god, how I know).

I had an entire blog post prepared that I basically deleted (it was a long post too…sorry Angie! The dino’s would have been proud!), but it was just so DEPRESSING! Ugh, I’ll tell you this…I am a master whiner.  Fuck that shit (seriously).

So, tending my wounds, and getting back in the battlefield.  Only this time…will I be the doctor instead? Only time will tell. I know this for certain.  I know, with every fiber of my being, that I will achieve my goals.  I have hope for a better future.  I have hope for a fully realized life.  I have hope for contentment, and peace.  I will always have hope. Always.