I thought I was maybe 10 days behind in posting. Guess not. This is just a quick one to let everyone know that I'm still out there and will post when I get a chance. Things have been so busy. I'm taking classes at two universities, and I work part-time, plus I substitute teach. Add three organizations, and well, it's not a surprise that I'm behind in homework. It was a first last week though when I discovered late Tuesday night that I had fogotten all about the readings for class. It's not like we don't have readings every week.

There's something about a new t-shirt. The girl sitting next to me in the computer lab is wearing the same shirt as I am. I commented, and then realized, it's the shirt from the conference yesterady, so she must have been there...which means she heard me speak. Weird. The girl that I worked with this morning also had hers on. I'm wearing new jeans, and the newness of my outfit makes me feel good. Can't explain it, but it does. I'm wearing the shirt not only because it's new but because it's got a recovery message and CMH's information on it. I have class tonight, so the shirt is comforting in a way because it reminds me of what all is here while I'm going down there into relative newness. And it's a show-off thing because I'm proud of what I did.

The speech went well. I stumbled over words both times I practiced out loud, but I didn't when I gave it, which make me really happy. I lost my place a few times because I was reading and looking up, so when I tried to memorize longer portions, I would look down and not be able to find my place. I still worry about it being scripted because I'd rather just speak naturally, but my memory does not allow for that in this length of speech. I also chose my words carefully to get everything in, so I needed to stick by what I had written.

The thing that amazes and makes me feel extrordinarly good is the support I received. My bosses talked with me before and told me how well I did after. They even brought it up again today. My friend that was there posted on here Facebook that she was proud of me, and lots of people commented on my status or liked it to show their support. Most of the people I sent my speech to wrote back with words of encouragement and good luck and wanting to know how it went. I am so lucky. I thanked God this morning. I need to be more mindful of how much I am blessed and how it was in God's plan all along that I'd get what I needed eventually, even if in a different way.

My boss asked me this moring if this is what I want to do, give speeches. I said yes, which surprised me even though it came from my mouth. She said because it's theraputic. It's not that really though. I like the reducing stigma part even though I am lucky again to not have experienced it directly. And I like telling people what it's like. Perhaps it's just the psychologist in me that likes to learn how people experience things. The hope that I offer, I think, is also beneficial, and I am glad I can give that message. I want to also tell people how they can help someone like me so that others can get the support they need too.

I want to thank you, as readers, because I think that is also a type of support. It is the part of me that still sometimes thinks I'm worthless that is surprised when I hear one of my friends tell me that they read this blog or when somebody I don't know subscribes. I love that this can be my voice too and that people are interested in what I have to say.

Last week was busy, and this one's looking worse. I don't know what was so special about last week because even though I picked up three extra shifts, I did not make full-time. This week it's all about transcribing. Or it will be. I have yet to make it to the lab. The grad student is not happy, but I've had stuff to take care of (not all of it involved a pillow and a comforter). I resolve to get up these next three mornings though and start catching up. The problem is that I just committed to picking up some hours Friday and to a meeting tomorrow, which will decrease my research time a bit. Good thing I didn't give the researcher specific times that I'd be in. She seemed kind of upset that I hadn't gotten a temporary parking pass yet. I got by this summer with my mom's though, so I didn't see the need until now. I think that I'm more likely to get one for just a week, maybe two, then the latter half of the summer. I kinda have to lie and say I'm not affiliated with the university at all, which I'm really not. I'm taking a grad class that will transfer, so I'm only like a guest, and it's in the evening, so I don't need a parking pass for it.

It just started raining, so I had to go close all of the windows.

Then my roommates had a funeral procession for a very old pillow.

Ah, the class. It was nerve-wracking at first. I came in later than I would have liked for a first class, and the seats were taken in a pattern that I would have to sit in the front or the back to avoid sitting next to anyone. It's a culture thing how nobody wants to sit too close to strangers. Happens in the CMH waiting room all of the time. It's quite interesting to watch, and I am a huge participant. Anyway, I didn't want to sit in the back, especially if it was a small class because professors are known to make the back people move up to fill in seats. So, the front it was. Luckily a girl that was in my sign language class a couple years ago walked in just before class started and sat next to me. But until then, well, I was trying not to freak out, this being my first ever grad class (even though it's only a 500 level, and I'm not a registered grad student yet) and not knowing anyone. I resolved that the good thing about having voices in my head is that there's someone to talk to in situations like this. I anticipate my first grad class at Eastern to be much worse because it will be a new university on top of everything else.

The professor was quite entertaining though. She moved here from Chicago. And she's African American. Talk about culture shock. This is the middle of nowhere in lily whiteville. She is the third African American woman professor that I've had. All three have been very into their culture and have been amazed that white people don't think they have a culture. I've learned a lot from these profs, and I look forward to learning from her. The really cool thing is that her undergrad adviser told her that she would never graduate. She just finished her doctorate. It's amazing how stereotypes still exist. I can't even imagine what it was like in the 60's.

Today was the last public speaking class. The instructor told all of us to aim for 3 minutes in our speeches. I think everyone was tired of speechmaking though because most of us winged it and spoke for like a minute or so. People could invite guests. Somehow the rights advisor that tried me and found me guilty of a high offense was there. I shut down for a long time, but after I spoke and she was asking me questions, I relaxed. She remembered me too, which means she remembered my case. Even though the director that was in the investigation told me that the charge doesn't make me a bad person, I still feel that it maims me in a way. And I wonder if I should be speaking as this great direct care worker with a rights charge, even if it was an accident. Nobody seemed to mind today though, and the investigation is totally confidential, so I think that I should just chill out about it.

I'm so used to my memory lapses that they don't faze me anymore. I had some more to write, and I meant to jot it down, but I didn't, and I don't remember. I should be going to bed now anyway.