Starting to Feel the Stress

Its midterms (two)week(s) here at the U of M. Between now and two weeks from now I have 3 papers due, a take home final to finish, and a test. Then I have a blissful week off, where all I have to do is a ton of reading that I am letting slide in order to get the rest of this crap done.

This week the stress of all this finally hit me. I declared a full on snow day on Monday (since the University thought we could all brave the snow after noon). I ditched group on Tuesday morning because I was too tired to think about driving to St. Paul and I went home early, skipping out of my Tuesday night class. I was overwhelmed. I came home in desperate need of a pep-talk, which I got from my lovely step mom and dad, who reassured me that we are all at the ends of our ropes, that everyone here is done with winter, even if its not done with us yet. And then I went on with my week, I went to all of my classes on Wednesday and on Thursday I went to class and then studied for a few hours before heading out to the opening of an art show called "Art and Eating Disorders: Building Community Awareness". It was put on by the Emily Program Foundation and featured art by clients from the Emily Program. It was a lovely event, but it was a small room full of people (not something my introverted self loved). And when I was done there (I stayed just long enough to say hello to a few friends I hadn't seen in a while and check out the art) I went to a concert. A friends band was in town from Scotland and I felt like I owed it to her and to myself to see some good music. By Friday I was exhausted again but I stayed at school until 9:30, just me and the cleaning crew, to attempt to catch up from all the time I had taken off the day before. I spent a few hours on Saturday and again today studying and trying to shape up some of these papers.

So here I sit, exhausted, feeling like I have barely made a dent in this huge pile of projects, and I am asking myself if I can do it. I am having serious doubts about my ability to get everything done that needs to get done. Its not that there aren't enough hours in the day, its that my brain can only work for so many of them. I only have so much time to think and figure before it just gives up on me. I keep pushing myself though, I reach the point where I think I ought to be done, and then I work for another ten minutes. I take a break, I come back and do it all again. I am working at full tilt. Still, I'm falling behind and the work I am managing to do is subpar.

I am exhausted. I just want someone to swoop in and make it all better. But I know from years of experience that that will never happen. Still, I'm not too worried. I know that I am smarter than I think I am and stronger than I feel. I know that at the end of the day I am doing my best, and that no matter what any professor says, my best is good enough.

Lonely on Sundays

Its Sunday night, so of course, I am lonely. I don't know why its just Sunday nights that this feeling comes over me. I suppose other people feel it on Friday nights, or Saturday nights, when all of their friends are out on dates or at parties or whatever. But me, introverted me, I get it on Sunday nights, when everyone is home, in bed early, preparing for the week. Maybe feeling lonely is my way of preparing for the week ahead.

All I know is that most Sunday nights I want to curl up with a good book and a cup of hot tea, or a few good episodes of West Wing. I have discovered over the last year or so that West Wing is what I want when I am lonely. I think its because the show is filled with witty people who are part of a team, they share something. I don't feel that anymore in my life. I very rarely walk out of a room and feel like I just shared something important with people I care about. I used to feel that way about group at the Emily Program, but lately I don't feel it even then. Its not that group has stopped being helpful, its still just as helpful as ever, just in a different way. Group is not where I am doing my growing right now. Group has become a place for maintaining, which is good. But it doesn't leave me feeling energized and connected like it used to.

The problem now is that the place where I am doing all my growing (namely school) is the place I don't feel connected, or energized most of the time. Most of the time school makes me feel exhausted and like I don't quite belong. It makes me feel like I must be missing something, like everyone seems to know something that I don't.

and of course...

Its winter. Still and always winter. We are in the midst of another blizzard, our second this season. As much as I would like to say I am a hardy Minnesotan and that we can handle anything, that doesn't mean it isn't trying, it doesn't mean that winter doesn't start to seem long and dark and oppressive after a few months. We had a lovely thaw this week, we even saw temperatures in the fifties, which was a much needed break. It was so nice to be able to walk to class without a jacket and without freezing. It was so nice to be able to feel all of my fingers and toes and to feel some fresh air on my skin and walk with my face upturned to the sky. It made all the difference in the world. Which makes this blizzard a double slap in the face. This is month 4 of snow banks 4 feet high. Its too much. Tonight I feel the weight of each of these snowflakes.

But for all that, tonight is just another one of those winter nights that we Minnesotans endure. Its one of the things that makes us hardy and strong.

...right?

These girls terrify me

When I was in high school there was a group of guys we called the 'white hats' they were called this because they all wore white baseball caps with various (and seemingly random) colleges on them. They all pretty much looked the same, and acted the same. My friends and I mostly took as little notice of them as we did of ants, they were only annoying when they were around, but even then you couldn't tell one from the other. They were fairly harmless I think, just kind of stupid and self involved.

I'm discovering now, that in college there is a female version of those boys. I don't know what to call them, but I know them when I see them and for some reason they drive me nuts! There is one here now, where I am studying and I can't help but watch her, she is fascinatingly boring. She reminds me of a girl I had class with last semester who also drove me to distraction for no apparent reason.

They all wear their hair in the purposefully-messy style. It involves 'throwing' your hair into a ponytail at the top of your head, then putting an elastic headband around your head so that the inch or so around your face looks smooth and out of the way, but everything after that looks bumpy and tousled. It drives me nuts! so much effort to look like you didn't put any effort into it at all. I think there are about 2 girls in the world who's hair really looks like that when she just tosses it up into a ponytail before leaving the house after an all-nighter. And I'm willing to bet that these girls saw that girl and thought "man, she even looks good when she doesn't have time to get all done up" then they started going out of their way to prove that they too could look good "with no effort", too. Its not just the way they do their hair, they put makeup on, again in that practiced-careless way, too.

And the expressions on their faces, its like looking at a mask, there is no joy apparent, there is no shame, just judgement, as though they have the right to just stare out at you. They look both bored and judgmental, haughty as though they don't care what you think of them, all the while they are carefully calculating what you are doing, constantly judging themselves and you to be better or worse.

I wonder who they think they are dressing down (as opposed to dressing up) for. Who are they trying to impress? who are they trying to snare? Do they really want the guys who want someone who looks just like everyone else? and why would they want that? who's life are they trying to live?

The overall effect is one that makes me mistrust them. They seem dangerous. Maybe thats why I can't look away.

You still breathing? Ok then, you're fine.

Not much to say this week. Not that nothing happened, I just don't have much to say about it.

I got a new computer, the weather warmed up, life seems much easier.

I feel like maybe I should have something to say about my week, but the truth is, I'm relaxed and content right now. I got a good start on a paper thats due this week, I have a plan for both of my papers that are due in a few weeks, I'm not worried about the quiz that I have coming up on Friday. I think I did alright on the test I had last week, the house is clean, its pay day, I have a warm cat on my lap. What could I possibly find to be worried about?

Don't answer that. I know there are a million things I could be worried about, but right now, I'm not, and I don't want to be. I have a few more hours left in this day of rest that I worked so hard for. I'm going to watch a little west wing, and after that I may or may not do a little reading for school.

I have been thinking about why this Sunday seems so much less stressful than last Sunday did. I decided the difference lies in the way I handled the things that were causing me stress this week. Last week I felt stuck and helpless. This week I got up and changed the things that were bothering me.

This point was really driven home for me on Thursday in Phonology class. Going to class on Thursday I was feeling overwhelmed and confused. I spent the first half of class trying not to cry and reminding myself to breathe. I felt like my professor was speaking another language and I was the only one who didn't understand it. Then he made my anxiety even worse by saying we were moving on to 'Feature Theory' and that this is where things got tricky and that if we could all just hang on through 'Feature Theory' we would be set. I'm not going to lie, I had a moment of despair, but I didn't get lost in it, and when he actually started getting into this mighty and terrifying Feature Theory I started to realize that this makes more sense to me than anything we had been doing all semester, and it became apparent why that was. We had moved on from sound-algebra to sound-geometry. Suddenly I saw the point to Phonology and I felt my feet on the ground again. I went from being overwhelmed to the point of tears, to feeling confident enough to volunteer to go up to the board...in front of the whole class!

I remembered a story my cousin told me about a yoga teacher he had had who would walk around class during particularly challenging poses and ask how people were doing. My cousin said it sounded like this: "How're you doing? oh, it burns? yeah? you still breathing? ok then, you're fine" I kept repeating variations on this theme in my head "oh yeah? you're uncomfortable? you still breathing? ok then, you're fine" "what's that? you're starting to feel overwhelmed? you still breathing? ok, then, you're alright" and sure enough, I was fine.

This week I just kept breathing, and before I knew it the disquieting, uncomfortable, stressful parts had passed, I had moved through them with some semblance of grace and things felt easier.

...plus it got above 32 degrees for the first time in over a month (and its going to stay that way all week!)

3 compliments in 3 minutes

This was a long week for me. It was mostly filled with goodness, but still, long is long. It was like the universe came together to make sure my week seemed longer than it was, but not quite long enough to make me give up anything.

First of all, there was the first paper I have had to write in 8 years. The paper itself was only 2 pages, but it felt like 20. Trying to remember what a hypothesis was supposed to look like and then how to sound smarter than I felt (or as my cousin Zach put it 'you just have to make it sound cool'. Best paper writing advice ever, by the way.) took a lot out of me. Not to mention it was due the day after my busiest day. (I know, I should have started it before the day before it was due, and I did, kind of. I mean, I had worked through the problem part of it, mostly...kind of)

Speaking of Wednesday, also known as 'Rachael's-crazy-busy-day', I accidentally called my professor 'Buddy', which embarrassed me to no end, but he apparently liked it. This is my Meteorology class, which I was expecting to hate. I'm not a big science person, or maybe I should say I haven't had the best luck with science classes. My experience has been that science classes existed solely to take interesting things, like how the universe works, and make them so boring you would rather eat rusty nails than have to listen to one more minute of it. But this class has turned out to be fantastic! This is the class of 100 that feels like 7, with the 3 professors from Wisconsin. Wednesday is lab day and between class and lab we have 15 minutes, which is just long enough to chat with my table mates a little and get sort of relaxed and out of the learning mood. So when my professor came over to give us our assignment, my mind was still in casual conversation mode and I instinctively said 'whats up buddy' before realizing that that could be completely inappropriate. He chuckled a little and moved on. I was mortally embarrassed and when he came back later to explain something to us he said 'ok, buddies, I want to show you something' and I apologized profusely, but he brushed it off and said it was fine.

Fast forward to Friday, back in class, I am worn out from paper writing (and all the stress that comes with it) and the lecture is ultra depressing. We were talking about global warming and climate change and the news was not good. My professor even stopped in the middle of the lecture to say 'man, i'm just being a Debbie Downer today aren't I?' needless to say by the end of it I was really feeling done with class and just wanted to get out of there. We had one last activity before we were free though, in our groups we were given a statement that someone in the general public might say about global warming such as 'its too big of a problem for me to do anything about' and we were supposed to come up with arguments against it. I was tired and easily confused at that point and found myself listening to my table-mates discussing it and feeling very grateful that this was a group project and that I could ride their coattails on this one (something I rarely think, let alone do). But of course, the universe had different plans.

Our professor wanted to hear from just a few groups before we left and he turned to our table and said 'I want to hear from my favorite group, c'mon Rachael'. Remember when I said I was excited for our professors to learn our names? I stand by that, but I was a little less excited about it at that moment. I gave a short (and completely bullshitted) answer to the class at large while I turned BRIGHT red (turning bright red was the most embarrassing part). After I had said whatever I said (I honestly don't have any idea what came out of my mouth) the two cute guys at the table who I have a crush on (yes, I have a half-crush on both of these guys simultaneously) both complimented me, saying I had said it very well. So there it was, three compliments in 3 minutes.

Some people might have been overjoyed by this. I was not. It is a little known fact that I don't like getting compliments. In fact, it makes me really uncomfortable. I have just recently developed the ability to not be openly angry and somewhat hostile to those who give me compliments. So I took my over-complimented self on a walk and while I walked I thought about what these compliments might mean, both for me and for the people who gave them.

These particular compliments felt uncomfortable because they were genuine. My professor called our table his favorite and then called on me by name, not because I sucked up to him, or because I told him what I thought he wanted to hear, or because we all did outstanding work, but because I was accidentally myself. He caught me off guard and I showed him a version of myself that was natural and pretty true. My classmates complimented me because I did a good job, not because I was pretty, or because I had agreed with them, but again, because I was myself. This scares me. No, this terrifies me.

What if people start liking me for who I really am?