The sun has dawned on a new day and its time for a new edition of the life of Julia Gulia Vafanculia, as they called me in Italy.
We left off I was on the move to a new yet old beginning in my former growing up state of California. In the first few weeks of California, I was depressed. If I could cry, I would. I missed my friend, Crystal. I remember going to check out a church and singing a song that reminded me of her and crying. I cried everyday in the shower, thinking of my time with Bill, the fella from the coffee shop.
Also, I had just given up the crazy world of the party lifestyle and had to have my parents adjust to me without drinking. They thought it was because of my religion, as they so aptly called it. I refer to it as faith or more closely related to relationship. I don't believe in religion.
I started actively looking for a church. There was a church down the road for me. I saw this big sign along the road that screamed out "Calvary Chapel" but since I was moving to Rohnert Park, a town 45 minutes from this forementioned sign I specifically told myself that it was not worth my time. I had chosen Calvary Chapel Santa Rosa because 6 months before I got saved, in August 2000, I saw a sign that read "Calvary Chapel" and I had made a joke "Calgary Chapel" (a town in Canada that my friend was from). Because of this, I had called the pastor from Oregon to talk about what his church offered and to introduce myself. But, when I got there, the church itself seemed fine except that everything was red. Not that I have anything with red, but the ascetics didn't appeal to me.
Finally, I broke down and decided to attend a service at the Calvary Chapel with the sign that screamed out alongside the freeway. I walked in and met the Pastor and his wife...and I kid you not there was an instant connection. Furthermore, this Pastor knew all about Ashland Christian Fellowship and all the trials they had been through, like Andy Greene. Crazy how small the world was!
Then, I moved into the apartments at Sonoma State. The government forked over the massive amount of loans and I didn't really think about it. I was in school and thought I was doing God's will but I wasn't really sure. I got to Sonoma State and said, "Okay, I am ready to learn about how to be a preschool teacher" and they replied, "Oh, we don't have that program anymore, you are now going to be an elementary teacher." I was gravely dissappointed.
I was still contemplating whether to attend Calvary Chapel Healdsburg; it seemed so far away and I couldn't fathom forking over the gas, even though gas was far more inexpensive then it is these days. I talked to my friend, Tony, and he told me "hey why not, its about the same distance to Applegate Christian Fellowship from Ashland." So, that seemed a good enough reason. I guess I didn't need a lot of convincing.
The second or third sunday, while I was worshipping, the Lord said to me, "Wouldn't you like to work with some of the middle school girls and minister to them?" (If you want more clarification, I had been praying about doing this while living in Oregon.) Right after worship, the youth group pastor's wife, Linsee, walked up to me and said, "Do you want to help out with the youth group?" I felt like it was my calling...except that because of my horrible experience in middle school...the teasing, the name calling, the ostracization...I felt some animosity towards that generation. Could I be of any use to them if I secretly loathed them? The first couple days serving in the youth group I had to fake enthusiasm. Plus, jealousy soon set in. I was jealous whenever the girls I was supposed to minister to went to any other of the youth group female leaders so it became about a competition. I tried to hide it and, hey, maybe I did a good job.
During my time at SSU, I had a terrible addiction to caffeine and would get terrible coffee headaches about four in the afternoon. I spent all my money on coffee. I also had this in my imagination that my time at the coffee shop was really a reality show that was airing that year and that everyone around me at the school recognized me. All of my life I have always wanted to be famous, to be known, and yet the dream has yet to be accomplished. Right after breaking up with Bill I used to run around town as if paparazzi were following me. Yes, definitely, I am crazy. Why in the world would anyone want that?
I started Sonoma State's credential program in August 2004 and in December 2005 I still hadn't passed the exams that would let me graduate with my friends in June. (It was supposed to be a year program so for me, it would take a year and a half.) The nature of the program had us student teaching, first part time, then full time second semester. I started my part time student teaching at a Santa Rosa school in a lower income school district. It was there I met one of my dear kindred spirits, Karissa. When I first met her, she was substitute teaching. I noticed she was wearing a cross. I judged her; I am sorry to say but I did. I thought she was wearing the cross as an ornament and not because it meant anything to her. However, after talking to her, I found that she had just given her life to the Lord and her faith was authentic. We prayed outside my car after school, exchanged numbers, and soon became the best of friends. Our friendship was a match made in heaven. In fact, when my best friend for years decided for the umteenth time that he didn't want to be my friend anymore, I formally asked Karissa to step in to fulfill the role of best friend and she happily agreed.
I stayed at CCH through their changing churches because of a complication with the place they were at. For Sunday Services, we were allowed to have the Seventh Day Adventist church attached to Rio Lindo, a boarding school. For a congregation of around 60 filling a chapel of 500 would be a challenge. But, it was a beautiful location with a view of the Fitch Mountain and the river below; ideal for spiritual seekings.
In July, we had our first kids camp at the boarding school. I was upset because I had to be assistant counselor and yet was old enough to be a full counselor and so felt unjustly treated. The Saturday after the camp ended I walked into the town coffee shop and met a young man who over the years had sought after my attention. Like, bringing me my pastry and standing there staring at me. I was hurting over Bill and bitter and thought he looked like some skinny little dork with a broken tooth. Then, once I walked into the coffee shop after being gone for several months and he said excitedly, "You're back!" I told the high school girl I was hanging out with (remember I was a youth group counselor) "this guy keeps hitting on me". Then, I laughed. Why do guys at coffee shops keep hitting on me?
Well, this Saturday after Kids Camp, I was sitting at the counter because there was no place to sit and being the good little Christian girl, I might have been reading the Bible and this chip-toothed fella walked up to me and said, "Do you go to church?" I got excited and thought I had found a convert. I immediately ran to the church office across the street and grabbed him all the information I could gather...A few weeks later, we were dating. I am sorry to say that the entire reason I got into the relationship with him was to get over Bill. Poor Randy never had a chance, I was still communicating with Bill. During that time, I was writing. Trying to construct a play that realistically reproduced my time at the cafe in Oregon, where I met Bill. What I didn't know is that I still had feelings for Bill, all I knew is that I was trying to forget him but the more I tried the harder it became. And even more so, Bill was not admitting that he was still in love with me. So, for all those years apart when we were still in each others lives, we played cat and mouse.
In December 2005, I graduated from Sonoma State. I was secretly scared of getting my own classroom and entering the professional world. I have to admit the idea of success and professionalism is my father's idea; an idea stemming from his pride and false perceptions of what it means to be of importance in this world. He pushed me into this career.
In March 2006, I accepted a position at a Christian school as a second grade teacher. I threw myself into the work but the stress overwhelmed me and I soon became a psychotic bitch; in every sense of the word. I screamed at my best friends, my boyfriend, my students. I cried incessantly. I couldn't get out of bed in the morning. I tried so hard to hide it from my parents due to my dad always pushing me to work; to pull yourself up by your own bootstraps.
Well, somehow I managed to get through that year but it wasn't without a damage to my very psyche and soul. I no longer had the joy and hope. I felt run down, exhausted, afraid of taking steps forward. To please my father, I took the job as full time teacher for the coming year even though I wanted to run and run and run.
In the beginning of June with the blinds drawn and the lights out, I woke up with the feeling that I couldn't sink as deep as possible into my bed. I started calling my friends and saying good bye...the door was locked to my room. My boyfriend called, my parents were at the door, and then before I knew it I was in the doctor's office, talking about how I wanted to end it all and how I couldn't take life anymore. The doctor handed me a prescription for topomax and xanax and called a psychiatrist.
A few weeks later, I walked into Dr. Tess Lusher's office, gave her my history (including the crazed coffee shop experience in Oregon), and left with a diagnosis of Bipolar. I don't remember if this made me feel hopeful. Sometimes when people receive diagnosis, they feel as if they finally have something that they can call the madness that has always circulated through their brains. I think I felt scared. Now what? I wanted the pain to go away. I wanted the madness to stop circulating through my brain. I wanted to stop screaming swear words and death threats at my friends. I wanted so much to feel normal. But at what price?
To top it all off, I couldn't focus on anything. I would try to read. I would try to write and nothing came out. I felt dead inside. I felt alone. I honestly and completely felt like no one loved me. I was isolating. I kept to myself. Karissa kept inviting me to come out and hang out with her new almost boyfriend, Gera, but I kept refusing.
The one solace was my cat, Calvin, who became faithful to wake me up with purrs and love every morning and whenever I cried, he was by my side.
However, the summer went well. I was able to relax. Dr. Lusher prescribed a combination of lamictal and lexapro; which got me up in the morning. I started running every day. The school was paying me money all year round so the first time in my life I didn't have to work to earn a living. Randy and I were doing well. Karissa and I were rebuilding our friendship. But, always in the back of my head was the impending dread, the school year was going to start and with it, again, the stress.
Sometime in the years after I left Oregon, I think it was when I got sick, I had a dream about my two loves from the Oregon coffee shop. A dream about them coming to see me and going for a ride in the canoe. I know this may seem absurd but I believe that they were visiting me in my dream. That it was a way for them to be with me in my pain; to let me know that however the distance and change of life separated us, we were still together in spirit. The dream faded into the recesses of my memory. I knew it could only be a dream but I never knew just how real it was...but now I for certain it was a dream of comfort. Not only was Bill my true love, but both of them were on my side through thick and thin, no matter how life's course led us apart.
The continuing saga of the Bipolar Grrrl tomorrow...
No comments:
Post a Comment