Drowning

I feel like I'm drowning.

I know I'm a drama queen, but I don't see any point in lying about how I feel on Nine to Phive. Especially when hardly anyone reads this blog since I've gotten so lax about updating it. No one will be fooled, if you know what I mean.

A Muse performance at ELEV8 conference this year. I thought it was sufficiently depressing.

Maybe it's because I now have an IC flareup for two weeks out of the month. Every month.

Maybe it's because I'm scared to death that I won't be able to keep a full-time job, let alone a job in the highly impractical field that I love.

Maybe it's because I've had to take a 19-credit load this semester just to graduate on time (barely). Oh, and those extra credits? They cost me $800 of over-enrollment fees.

Maybe it's because two of Muse's biggest performances of the semester are over and I don't feel relieved. No less busy. No less stressed. No less out of breath.

Maybe it's because, after two and a half years of marriage, I feel like I should have worked out so many of the selfish struggles that my newlywed friends seem to have no problem with after just a few months.

Maybe it's because I feel guilty turning to my family for support when they're struggling just as much as me right now.

Maybe it's because I love God, love my church, and love my brothers and sisters in Christ, but can't find the time or energy to invest in my personal spiritual life.

Maybe it's because I want more than anything to write freely--stories, poetry, journals, grocery lists, bucket lists, this blog--and I can't even find time to do my required writing for class.

Maybe this is my life now.

Struggling.
Fighting.
Keeping my head above water. 

 Drowning.

I thought graduating this spring would feel like a weight being lifted, but as I approach commencement with all of this and more baggage (some of which won't disappear the moment I walk across that stage), I feel as though it's just a doorway into different and heavier weights pressing down on me.

Pressing down on my lungs . . .  
On my heart . . . 
On my spirit . . .  
I'm broken . . .

Drowning . . .

Oh, and a drama queen. There's that, too.

Awkward and Awesome Valentine

Awkward:

• The puffy-eyed lady above is coming up on two weeks with an IC flare-up. I'm honestly exhausted and pretty depressed, but nothing can make me smile like a goofball the way Josh can.
• Rethinking going back on the IC diet. Goodbye fruit and chocolate . . .
• Exam and a project due at the same time--on Valentine's Day. I'm not feeling very loved, lol.
• ALDIs now sells authentic Spanish cheese. We're stocking up and pigging out!
• Josh has a cold, and there is a tissue stuffed up his nose as I write this. Haha, can you tell I'm tired and can't think of much to say? :-)
• As much as I hate to admit it, Kourtney & Kim Take Miami is fascinating. I actually find myself relating *shudder* to Kourtney and Scott . . .

Awesome:

• My sweet, supportive hubby who waits on me while I'm sick and heats up my corn bag ten times an hour.
• We had a great dinner of Spanish-style potato salad and pork loin. I've missed this stuff!
• Class was cancelled for tomorrow, so winter break is officially on!
• Romantic brunch tomorrow <3 Hopefully I'll be feeling better so that we can have a real Valentine's Day date.
• The Thurstons are coming for a visit this Saturday. This is the first time they've visited our apartment!
• They're bringing our new dining room table with them :-D

Awkward and Awesome Thursday: You're Hot, Then You're Cold

Okay, there's not quite this much snow anymore.

Awkward:

• The wind! It's always been cold here, but now . . . oh, the wind!
• First IC-flareup/infection while being in Spain. I'm so used to them that going two months without one had almost convinced me that I was cured.
• Nightmares every friggin' night. Boring, realistic nightmares . . . like my sister won't talk to me anymore or my dad is telling people at work that he's embarrassed by me.  Give me sleep.
• Heater that stays off all day when you are freezing on the tile floors, and then blasts on at night when you're piled under heaps of blankets.
• Applying to be a co-admin on one of my favorite fashion sites only to find out that the deadline already passed because of the time difference :-(
• Not being able to afford to visit Italy. End of world.

Awesome:

• Cleaning. Feels so good.
• Hot chamomile tea with anise. A) Why do you taste so good while making me feel so much better? You make Pepto-Bismol seem like Jack Daniels! B) Why have I not had you before?
• Having hot and cold running water. How often do we take this for granted?
• Cereal with hot milk. The other gals think it's mad awkward, by I think the Spaniards are geniuses! Who wants cold cereal on a cold morning? Plus, if you start with chocolate cereal there's hot chocolate in the bottom when you're done.
• Speaking of hot chocolate, found out the hard way that Spanish hot a chocolate is not a drink, but rather hot chocolate pudding in a cup.
• Hot husband. Haha, just thought I'd sneak that in there since everything else I mentioned was "hot."
• The trailer I just happened to stumble upon for the upcoming Rock of Ages movie that I did not know existed. Eighties rock x Broadway musical = where have you been all of my life?
• Segovia day trip tomorrow!
• Cheap bus tickets
• I Waste So Much Time. The name says it all.
• Being able to read and understand (I think) Hispanic literature <3

How I Feel Sometimes, But It Could Be the Drugs :-/

 

A contributing factor to my feeling poorly yesterday and today is the fact that I am now on an antidepressant to help me cope with my bladder flare-ups. Turns out antidepressants are often used for nerve pain. Of course, nontraditional use doesn't mean you're free from all of the traditional symptoms. They still often make you feel worse before you ever feel better.

So here I am.

I feel like absolute crap physically, mentally, and emotionally. I feel cold, dreary, sick, and drowsy, and I fel like all of the things in the above graphic.

Not deep.

Not intellectual.

Not artistic.

Not a critic.

Not a poet.

Just a girl with a blog that a couple people read.

I swear that I'm not fishing for compliments, but I have been feeling pretty worthless for the past few weeks. It seems to me that every talent I once thought I had . . . everything I ever wanted to do with my life . . . well, honestly I feel like just about anybody could do it better than me. 

Not that I have to be the best at everything. It just hurts that people who aren't even trying, who don't even care about the things I'm so passionate about, are experiencing more success than I am. 

I sometimes I feel like anyone could do what I do . . .

You better believe I've been noticing examples. I've considered myself a writer for my whole life, and Josh hands in the only paper required for his LIT 101 class and gets a comment from one of my favorite professors saying that his prose is "almost flawless." I've never gotten a comment like that, and writing means the world to me. Rachel has never expressed a desire to model and she hated every minute of her most recent job, yet she landed a job modeling for a painting class when I couldn't even get an email back from the professor. Not only this, but Rachel has speech class with another one of my favorite professors who has raved about her as though she is the greatest public speaker he's ever had the privilege of teaching. Me? I've done oodles of public speaking and never gotten any overwhelmingly positive feedback.

Yes, there's some jealousy here.

Over Thanksgiving break, my Dad was quoting a book to me. I can't remember what the title was, but it was talking about leadership in the 21st century. One of the author's points was that in this day and age, everyone has the capacity to be an artist. Everyone has access to the resources that can make one a filmmaker, musician, graphic designer, etc.

The reality of this truth hit me hard. If everyone is and artist, how does one stand out? How does one make a living creating art when it is available everywhere? Suddenly all of my dreams seemed to reflect the future of some new innovative thinker of the 1890's and not of a girl with her head in the clouds in the information age. I felt doomed.

Today, though, under the influence of drugs that are no doubt monkeying with my thought processes, I am somewhat resigned to my fate. After all, this is what I've been arguing for years! Everyone is creative. Everyone is born with an innate need to create. That's the purpose of Nine to Phive. How can you turn moments in your everyday life and "job" into opportunities for creation? How can you do it for you and for the glory of God?

Not for the purpose of standing out. Not for the purpose of making a living, but just for the purpose of living.

I create to bring beauty from disaster.

I create to cope.

I create to share.

I create to express my love and gratitude. 

I create to tell me story.

I create to reflect the image of my Father.

I create because I was created to create.

I create for me. And I create for Him.

Oh, look, the sun just came out . . . No seriously, I'm not making this up just because it would be a good ending to an angsty post. . . Hello, Sun!