despayre

Who needs a normalized system of spelling anyway?

Anyhow, wow, I think it might be in large part due to the lack of sleep, but I'm having some sort of weird lethargic panic attack. I can't explain it. It's slow-mo or something. I can feel myself tensing up and freaking out and I don't know what to do about it.

I feel like I've reached the end of a diving board in my life and I have no idea if there is a pool full of water (or something soft, like marshmallow fluff) beneath me. I kind of feel like I'm six again and people are going to start asking me, 'What do you want to do when you grow up?' I have no idea. Actually, that's not true. I have plenty of ideas. The problem lies in me needing to be gainfully employed (as in I need to eventually make some money so that Cardo can have a little space to maneuver in his own career). So, yes, I have ideas and I have ideals, but I have no solidly-formed ideas (I can't think of any other way to phrase that right now) about how I'm going to reach a point where I'll be happy and earning a decent paycheck.

My whole life, so far, has pretty much been school. I've always just kind of moved on to the next step without giving much thought to what I was doing. So, apparently I'm full of sweet little lies this morn, because I doubt I've ever done anything without giving whatever it is much thought. What I really mean is that I didn't stretch myself, I just stuck with what was easy and/or safe. However, that is no longer an option. I'm being forced to make some major changes -- and I mean that 'forced' not in some violent way, but I've reached the end of what I can do here. I'm not one who's comfortable with change so you can surmise how I am with MAJOR change. Meltdowny, insomnia-plagued, randomly bursting-into-tearness = my state. No matter how much I keep telling myself that I only have two months left until this enormous current pressure eases up considerably. And, anyhow, I keep switching back and forth between 'one day at a time' (or 'inch by inch') and 'let's paint a great big mural and look at that.'

I always get antsy at this point in the semester. You'd think I'd have some kind of a handle on this by now. I'm only in my eight-billionth semester here. I always want assurances. I want to know that I'll come out of this successfully, but there is no knowing that. I want to not be seen. I want the pressure of others' gazes to not be squashing me into the ground. However, there is no way to finish up this part of my journey (or whatever) without others being aware of most of the moves I make. I hate this kind of scrutiny. So, perhaps this would be a good time to hold off on any 'How's it going?'s and 'How are you?'s. Unless, however, you don't mind mumbled responses of insincere 'Fine's or not-quite-held-back tears.

And, geez, who is it that allows me to post stuff in the middle of the dark (the dark of the night and the dark of my soul...I've been reading too many sonnets)? I don't drink, so there'll never be any drunk-blogging, but there is plenty of blues-blogging. My apologies.

I just need to remind myself that I make everything harder than it really is. I've been doing most of the stuff I'm faced with for so long that I should be able to do some of it in my sleep (should I happen to get any). I also need to remember that there's a whole lot more world out there, outside of the ivy-covered brick.

Also, and above all: I need sleep. So, buona notte.