open letter

I have been composing this letter in my head for a couple of weeks now. Just so you know the extent of things here, when I can't even post a proper blog entry.

Hello out there,

I am barely treading water over here. I cannot even think of a better idiom. I cannot even play with this one because what I am experiencing feels so much like I would imagine drowning to feel.

I often let myself believe that 'this time' I will sleep like a normal person. I will get to everything in a wonderfully timely fashion and I will have time to actually sleep when all the rest of La Casa B is slumbering. However, somewhere deep inside, I know that I never believed this.

I have been pretty much nonstop reading for the last month. (Hey, I did qualify that statement...I know, I'm not reading right now...well I am reading as I type, but whatever.) I will be pretty much nonstop reading for the next twelve weeks. Actually, at some point, there will be more writing going into the process, although the reading will not diminish.

In light of this information, I have decided that I have to stop telling people that I will do things. I cannot. I just cannot do things. I don't care how enticing these things sound. I'd love to go to the climbing gym. When the weather is more friendly, I'd love to go climbing outside on actual rock-faces. I'd love to go snow-shoeing. I'd love to just hang out. However, these things are becoming less and less possible with each passing day. Every time I take time out to do something like this (or like posting a blog), I have to deduct that time from sleep so that I can -- you guessed it -- read some more.

I am losing all sense of self here (though I am, ironically, no less self-centered, obviously) and that is not easy when I am at the end of a definite stage in my life. I am supposed to be making major decisions here, but instead, I'm muddling through Marx, slogging through Shakespeare and groping my way through Greenblatt. I'm liking myself less and less with every passing day, but so far, I'm managing to cling to something like reality and sanity (I just knocked on my wooden desk). This hold, however, I know to be tenuous.

I know, I know, I know that I am not the first nor the last person who has gone/will go through this. So many of those I know have already done it and with grace. This is a first for me though, folks, and every day, I dread failure. I know that I should ac-cen-tuate the positive and e-lim-inate the negative (or something), but that's a hard ideal for me to stick with at the moment. I am trying to focus only on the day to day, but that isn't entirely possible because I also have to line up what is next for me and mine.

And, all this talk about me when I can't even figure out who that is is infuriating...to me.

So, I am going to be a lot less accessible to most everyone for the next three months. I apologize for this in advance. This does not mean that I love you and cherish you any less. If I'm snappy or loopy or just hysterical (you know, being in possession of a uterus (that I don't really use) and all) and insane, I really apologize. If I ramble for a good part of class, I'm going on autopilot here and I don't even know for sure if I possess this autopilot of which I speak. I don't know how to get through this without being almost wholly self-centered, but if you have suggestions for successfully getting by, please let me know. For those of you who have been here (no matter where, just in any stage of your life), I'd appreciate some understanding. For those of you who are not nearly as dramatic as I, please just feel free to ignore me for three months.

A fond farewell and until we meet again,
v

P.S. This does not mean that I will be silent here. This is how I release and I can do this in the middle of the dark which is probably preferable for those of you who prefer to sleep at such times.