sick of worrying, worrying to sickness

Doctors are the worst patients. We never follow our own advice, and we get the worst illnesses.
"Stop worrying" I told my patient. "It'll make your condition worst."

Anyway, I've had a bit more time to myself lately, mainly because I have just no desire to do anything else but. Hence, the more frequent entries the past few days. And as this blog is served to untangle mangled thoughts, here I go again.

Things on my mind:

Growing pains. 2 growing up kids going through the changes in life.

Societal stigma to widow-ism.

Inter-racial, inter-national, long distance relationship.

Religion.

Disability and unemployment.

Security.

Family expectations.

Job and career.

Balance.

The desire to make others do their best to keep up with what their potentials are is actually a part of my everyday job. Sometimes, I forget the boundaries between career and personal life. I push and push. They don't budge. Should I just accept that they do not want to change? Why is it so important to me to see those changes, when they themselves do not care less? Stupid me. It's tiring. For patients, I can discharge them. For people closer to me, I cannot.

So, I tell myself, stop putting in my energy in fighting a loosing battle. Those soldiers have put up a white flag, and its time to move on. Lets focus on more fruitful things. Time is running out, and we are not going to be here for ever.

And for those out there who thinks that all widows are desperate, PLEASE! Those are your own insecurities talking. Nevertheless, it is still painful to hear.