Okay so it's been a while since my last post, but I just wanted to give my audience a thumbs up. I'm doing so much better. I'm running towards God more, which is where a lot of stuff lines up, and am not as stressed at the moment. Just a quick update, for those who approached me with worry.
-sg
Monday, February 15, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
wall of impossibility
I have never wanted to cry more in my life. I think somewhere along the way, my tear ducts dried of from lack of use, so this powerful urge has not been satisfied yet. At the most, my eyes can produce tears for 65 seconds, including the moment they start watering to the moment they stop. It's sad. So sad it's worth crying over.
This sob story is not inspired by any truly grievous act that has catapulted my heart into mourning, but rather a series of overwhelming small events combined with a dry soul and a body that wants to physically run from everything right now. My exact feelings? I would like to pull a Tom Sawyer on life right about now. Maybe not the whole dramatic feigning of my own funeral (though I admit, I always have thought that would be entertaining), but at least the running away to an unknown, uninhabited island part. But then again, I am keenly aware that would not solve my unrest.
I have been stressed by a number of things, a few deeply private that I am unwilling to admit to anyone, which may have contributed to my inner turmoil of late. Admitting serious personality flaws or struggles to yourself is hard enough, but admitting them to others is nothing short of suicidal. At least that is how I perceive it.
So far, this is comprised of a bunch of words about nothing. I'm not sure I'm really saying anything. The underlying point is that I am intensely overwhelmed (work has been a major aggravating force which brought about this feeling) and am not sure how to voice my frustrations or struggles or how the heck to make my eyes water to relieve some of the tension.
I'm pretty positive my back is more tense than it has ever been, and I am on steroids (not the cool muscle-building kind) for a pulled muscle to prove it. Thank you, backpack.
School is pretty good, but I get to the point where I wonder if I'm exactly where I should be with life coinciding with school. I feel like I could be making money through writing or photography (maybe not...still a newbie) or something I enjoy doing and would also be productive and improving a skill. Many internships are unpaid and those that are paid are mostly full for this semester, which is to be understood. I just feel stuck for some reason.
Stuck in my faith, stuck in my work ethic, stuck in a lack of motivation, stuck in a mode of searching in vain for hope or joy or something that will fulfill me. The funny thing is, I know exactly what I need to do to find that fulfillment but I feel like I want to try stuff out first and make sure my fulfillment can't come in that. Lame, I know. Many journeys are dead ends and many of mine will probably lead me to a wall of impossibility.
Maybe I am crippling myself with this mood right now and while I wish I could have a "good cry" (I am still not sure what that means, much like I don't understand the term "daddy's girl") and shake it off, I'm not sure that these feelings can be resolved that easily.
So I sit down, I type, and I solve nothing. Just another voice in print in an infinity of cyberfeelings.
I rest my case.
This sob story is not inspired by any truly grievous act that has catapulted my heart into mourning, but rather a series of overwhelming small events combined with a dry soul and a body that wants to physically run from everything right now. My exact feelings? I would like to pull a Tom Sawyer on life right about now. Maybe not the whole dramatic feigning of my own funeral (though I admit, I always have thought that would be entertaining), but at least the running away to an unknown, uninhabited island part. But then again, I am keenly aware that would not solve my unrest.
I have been stressed by a number of things, a few deeply private that I am unwilling to admit to anyone, which may have contributed to my inner turmoil of late. Admitting serious personality flaws or struggles to yourself is hard enough, but admitting them to others is nothing short of suicidal. At least that is how I perceive it.
So far, this is comprised of a bunch of words about nothing. I'm not sure I'm really saying anything. The underlying point is that I am intensely overwhelmed (work has been a major aggravating force which brought about this feeling) and am not sure how to voice my frustrations or struggles or how the heck to make my eyes water to relieve some of the tension.
I'm pretty positive my back is more tense than it has ever been, and I am on steroids (not the cool muscle-building kind) for a pulled muscle to prove it. Thank you, backpack.
School is pretty good, but I get to the point where I wonder if I'm exactly where I should be with life coinciding with school. I feel like I could be making money through writing or photography (maybe not...still a newbie) or something I enjoy doing and would also be productive and improving a skill. Many internships are unpaid and those that are paid are mostly full for this semester, which is to be understood. I just feel stuck for some reason.
Stuck in my faith, stuck in my work ethic, stuck in a lack of motivation, stuck in a mode of searching in vain for hope or joy or something that will fulfill me. The funny thing is, I know exactly what I need to do to find that fulfillment but I feel like I want to try stuff out first and make sure my fulfillment can't come in that. Lame, I know. Many journeys are dead ends and many of mine will probably lead me to a wall of impossibility.
Maybe I am crippling myself with this mood right now and while I wish I could have a "good cry" (I am still not sure what that means, much like I don't understand the term "daddy's girl") and shake it off, I'm not sure that these feelings can be resolved that easily.
So I sit down, I type, and I solve nothing. Just another voice in print in an infinity of cyberfeelings.
I rest my case.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
the kids
The kids have been gone for about a week now.
This has been the longest week ever with work and all, and while it has been really nice to have adult time, play cards with the neighbors, laugh out loud past seven o'clock without the risk of waking a sleeping child, I know they are going to be gone for good soon. So I would like to see them again. At least the baby, because she was in my dream and when I woke up,
she was gone.
This has been the longest week ever with work and all, and while it has been really nice to have adult time, play cards with the neighbors, laugh out loud past seven o'clock without the risk of waking a sleeping child, I know they are going to be gone for good soon. So I would like to see them again. At least the baby, because she was in my dream and when I woke up,
she was gone.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Port-au-Prince
Last night was kind of a rough night with an unexpected shift at work, trying to figure out which Middle Tennessee town I would be sleeping in, and willing my eyes to stay open while I drove there. Yet for some reason, when I lay my head on my pillow, sleep would not come.
It absolutely would not.
Thoughts bombarded my mind. My own voice kept shouting a million different thoughts into my mind's ear. My voice multiplied and a thousand random thoughts screamed for my attention when all I wanted was to sleep for the six precious hours I had.
Still, sleep would not come.
I think it took me about an hour to finally fall asleep and get my mind to shut up. The next few hours were spent trying to sleep, but between random dreams and waking up, I'm not sure how successful my attempts were.
Towards the end of my "slumber," three words, really one phrase, kept running through my mind. P____-___-P______. I was really confused because though I knew the words (I forgot once I woke up) I could not figure out what they meant. I work in a video store, so I thought maybe it was a video title that I had seen among the few hundred titles I had handled that night.
The name kept running through my head. Literally spelling itself out, waking me up a few times. Still, I was confused, not knowing what it was, not being able to grasp the meaning of the phrase.
This morning, awake, despite my body's struggle to get out of bed, I drove to school and sat down to finish an assignment on the earthquake in Haiti. The school computers are set to use a search engine other than what I used yesterday afternoon to start my assignment. After typing in "causes of the earthquake in Haiti," the first subject that greeted my eyes was "Port-au-Prince."
Port-au-Prince.
That was it. That was the phrase that kept waking me up sometime early this morning. I was completely positive. That was it without question. Port-au-Prince. How could I have forgotten the words?
But now they had meaning.
I have no idea why this was waking me up. I would love to believe it was the Holy Spirit trying to communicate to me. Maybe telling me to wake up and pray. But my prayer life has been rather shoddy of late, so even if I knew what it was, maybe I would have been skeptical in my drowsy slumber. Yet this morning, I see those words on the computer screen, and while I could believe I just thought of them because of my assignment, that wouldn't justify the words waking me up more than once in attempts to discover their meaning.
Port-au-Prince.
A region wrecked with pain and destruction.
A broken people, far from God, yet drawing on their pain
and looking for some sort of redemption.
I would love to go to Haiti right now. However, I see school as a definite obstacle to that wish. That and a lack of funds, or a selfish desire to salvage the small savings I have for life here in the privileged US.
I don't know. I'm not saying that being awakened mulitiple times by the name of a suffering town means I am supposed to go to that place. But I wonder what it does mean.
Maybe I will get some follow-up, some peace of mind, some answer to my unwritten question, but if not, then hopefully I will be more cognizant of the pain of those in Haiti and will be more in tune to praying for the people of Port-au-Prince daily.
The privileged white girl goes to school while the black children oceans away are suffering immensely, with little hope to lighten their load.
Something seems so wrong about that.
It absolutely would not.
Thoughts bombarded my mind. My own voice kept shouting a million different thoughts into my mind's ear. My voice multiplied and a thousand random thoughts screamed for my attention when all I wanted was to sleep for the six precious hours I had.
Still, sleep would not come.
I think it took me about an hour to finally fall asleep and get my mind to shut up. The next few hours were spent trying to sleep, but between random dreams and waking up, I'm not sure how successful my attempts were.
Towards the end of my "slumber," three words, really one phrase, kept running through my mind. P____-___-P______. I was really confused because though I knew the words (I forgot once I woke up) I could not figure out what they meant. I work in a video store, so I thought maybe it was a video title that I had seen among the few hundred titles I had handled that night.
The name kept running through my head. Literally spelling itself out, waking me up a few times. Still, I was confused, not knowing what it was, not being able to grasp the meaning of the phrase.
This morning, awake, despite my body's struggle to get out of bed, I drove to school and sat down to finish an assignment on the earthquake in Haiti. The school computers are set to use a search engine other than what I used yesterday afternoon to start my assignment. After typing in "causes of the earthquake in Haiti," the first subject that greeted my eyes was "Port-au-Prince."
Port-au-Prince.
That was it. That was the phrase that kept waking me up sometime early this morning. I was completely positive. That was it without question. Port-au-Prince. How could I have forgotten the words?
But now they had meaning.
I have no idea why this was waking me up. I would love to believe it was the Holy Spirit trying to communicate to me. Maybe telling me to wake up and pray. But my prayer life has been rather shoddy of late, so even if I knew what it was, maybe I would have been skeptical in my drowsy slumber. Yet this morning, I see those words on the computer screen, and while I could believe I just thought of them because of my assignment, that wouldn't justify the words waking me up more than once in attempts to discover their meaning.
Port-au-Prince.
A region wrecked with pain and destruction.
A broken people, far from God, yet drawing on their pain
and looking for some sort of redemption.
I would love to go to Haiti right now. However, I see school as a definite obstacle to that wish. That and a lack of funds, or a selfish desire to salvage the small savings I have for life here in the privileged US.
I don't know. I'm not saying that being awakened mulitiple times by the name of a suffering town means I am supposed to go to that place. But I wonder what it does mean.
Maybe I will get some follow-up, some peace of mind, some answer to my unwritten question, but if not, then hopefully I will be more cognizant of the pain of those in Haiti and will be more in tune to praying for the people of Port-au-Prince daily.
The privileged white girl goes to school while the black children oceans away are suffering immensely, with little hope to lighten their load.
Something seems so wrong about that.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
the juggling game begins
So......I was thinking about recycling my journal entry or some poetry (I need to come up with a word other than that to define my lyrics/poems/whatever they are) I've done recently for this post.
Alas, a real update is in order.
Today marked the 2nd day of what I have come to call the 12 hour school day. It is titled as so because I must wake up at 6am and my last class wraps at 5:45pm. Okay, so my math is a little off...it's more like 13 hours! (Driving back home...duh.) Fortunately I've had the company of my friend Rachel through this early morning ordeal and have her to vent to for the upcoming days when my schedule is sure to become overwhelming.
17 hrs of schoolwork + 20 hrs of work + sleep = better be enough time for driving out to the B-mont and spending quality time with friends here and there.
EXCITING STUFF!! I met with a study abroad advisor today and am in the process of mapping out my study abroad to South Africa (!!!) next spring. Ready or not, here I come - spring 2011! I'm excited about it but am really bad at planning and getting truly excited this far in advance.
This post is super boring, so I'm going to stop while I'm ahead and try to make it exciting next time instead of cramming it in like a sloppy homework assignment.
Much love!
-S
Alas, a real update is in order.
Today marked the 2nd day of what I have come to call the 12 hour school day. It is titled as so because I must wake up at 6am and my last class wraps at 5:45pm. Okay, so my math is a little off...it's more like 13 hours! (Driving back home...duh.) Fortunately I've had the company of my friend Rachel through this early morning ordeal and have her to vent to for the upcoming days when my schedule is sure to become overwhelming.
17 hrs of schoolwork + 20 hrs of work + sleep = better be enough time for driving out to the B-mont and spending quality time with friends here and there.
EXCITING STUFF!! I met with a study abroad advisor today and am in the process of mapping out my study abroad to South Africa (!!!) next spring. Ready or not, here I come - spring 2011! I'm excited about it but am really bad at planning and getting truly excited this far in advance.
This post is super boring, so I'm going to stop while I'm ahead and try to make it exciting next time instead of cramming it in like a sloppy homework assignment.
Much love!
-S
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