My semester has been made up of days like this

So I am recovering today from my second panic attack in a week. I thought I would take this opportunity to sort a few things out, and because I don't want to feel completely alone about it, I thought I would Blog about it, because even though it has been months and months and months since I have posted anything here, this is still my space to post if I want to. (thats one of the lovely things about the internet, once you claim a free space, its yours until you actively give it up)

This semester has been rough. I hurt my wrist over winter break so I haven't really knit all semester. Usually I am a daily knitter. If I don't knit one day its unusual, very unusual. So going two and a half months without knitting a single stitch is not only unusual, but also very stressful. The fact that I cannot knit adds stress, and the fact that knitting is usually a stress reliever means it isn't doing its usual job of relieving stress, basically doubling my stress. Thats one thing that has made this a rough semester

Thing number 2 is that because of the same wrist injury, yoga has been unavailable. I only do yoga once or twice a week (generally) but again, its an important form of stress relief, both physically and mentally. GONE. For a while I was going to the pool once a week, and in retrospect I really should have kept up with that. But going to the pool is harder than just pulling out my yoga mat, so I didn't.

Thing number 3: school. yeah yeah yeah school is stressful, this doesn't make me special. I totally get that. But this semester I am taking an honors class, because it fulfills one of my graduation requirements without forcing me to be at school at 9am. First of all, there is a reason I don't usually take honors classes, namely that I am not an honors student. Second of all, I transfered into the class a week and half late. So I came into the class that was a little to hard for me a little bit behind. Oh yeah, and it meets at 12:45, which should be fine, but it turns out that 12:45 is still really early for me. Its a good class with a good professor, and I like it, but its hard all around.

Thing number 4: Mom. It always seems to be about her doesn't it? I stopped talking to her in November, cause she refuses to meet me even close to halfway on a very very important issue (either I have written about this before here, or I will write about it later, but not now). I thought (very foolishly) that I was mostly over her and the whole thing, and I guess I am, I mean, hearing from her doesn't throw me into a tailspin like it used to. But she has written me a few letters and left a few voicemails. And every one adds just a little bit of stress.

Thing number 5: N. or rather the lack of N. For those of you who don't know N is my best friend (more like brother or cousin than friend). And in January we had a big potentially-friendship-ending fight. We didn't speak for a month or so, and then when we did it was awkward and emotionally charged and stressful. This situation has settled down over the course of the last few months, but still, its rough to suddenly have one of your only support people not there at your side when things are rough, and they have been rough this semester (in case you hadn't picked up on that).

Thing number 5a: Because there was no N there was no Crickhollow. No Crickhollow means nowhere to catch my breath during a long day at school, it means no hot baths, it means no safe place, it means no real moments alone. All of these things are very important to my mental health.

So there you have it. 5 1/2 things that have been slowly chipping away at me all semester. I have done pretty well, all in all. I have kept up with my assignments reasonably well. I have gone to most of my classes (I have only missed a few days of each class, mostly in the last few weeks). I have been eating, and my wrist has been healing (with the help of physical therapy a few times a week) and now that N and I are back on friendly terms again (I am currently writing this from Crickhollow) things are getting much easier.

Or they should be. But they don't seem to actually be getting better. Maybe its that school is getting much harder (we are into the final few weeks which means paper writing overdrive in all 4 classes) and without this bit of relief from the rest of my life this would be impossible. I have been able to knit for a grand total of an hour over the last few weeks (20 minutes at a time), which has been fabulous. I have had a few hot baths, which have been fabulous. But I'm still sitting here hungover from a middle-of-the-night panic attack and I'm actively fighting off panic and anxiety today (again).

I have been trying to remind myself that dealing with a panic attack takes just as much out of you as being sick does. That it wears your body down, as well as your mind, that not getting enough sleep makes things harder, and to be gentle with myself. And I am. But I also don't think I really have time for this. Not if I want to get my stuff done.

How about this? I will work for a few hours tonight, then rest. It means I will only have put in a half day, but I don't care. Then, tomorrow, I can do a few hours of work, go to class, then rest again. I will give myself until Friday to just work at a pace that I can actually sustain. Then I will start emailing professors to get extensions on final papers and the like. This is a good plan. This is a workable plan. This is a plan that doesn't involve more stress. My semester has been full of plans like this.

I should point out that this semester hasn't been 100% hellish. There have been a few supports left in place. First of all, I still have a rent free place to live, its not ideal, but its free. Second of all, my little brother has stepped up to help me when I have really really needed it (and even a few times when I only kind of needed it) Third of all, I have still managed to go to Temple most weeks and this has been very very helpful. My life is noticeably worse when I don't go. Fourth of all, I got my sewing machine out and set up about half way through the semester. Sewing helps scratch the itch of making something pretty, and of being creative, and generally helps still the shakes of knitting-withdrawal. Fifth of all, music. I have had a pretty decent soundtrack for my hardships this semester. Doomtree has helped me feel like an asskicker more often than I would have without it, which has made a huge difference. Sixth of all, this winter wasn't really a winter. If the weather had been like it was last year I would have given up a long time ago. So even though things have been rough, they have remained manageable for the most part.

Wish me luck on getting through the next 3 weeks!

Very Forgettable

I may have just embarrassed myself. I asked one of my favorite musicians in the world for an autograph. See, she also happens to be a local musician, which means she does cool little events where you actually have the chance to go up to her afterwards and embarrass yourself like I did tonight. She was very nice about it, but I think both of us would have been better off if I had just written her some fanmail.

I am comforting myself by remembering that I am pretty forgettable on the surface. Which is not to say that I am not interesting or memorable or worthwhile once you get to know me. But lets face it, I blend in to the background, and I like it that way. I have worked hard to make sure that is the case. And this is exactly why, so that when I do things that are a little bit fan-girlish, a little bit embarrassing, a little bit awkward, people forget it was me. So when they tell the story later, I become "just some girl", which also means that if I meet them again I have the chance to make a new first impression.

I like my system.

I hope it works the way I think it does.

Bummer

I just bummed myself out by reading some Occupy Wall Street stuff. I blame Lemony Snicket. Until now I had managed to be aware that it was happening, but not give it much thought. Then I saw this. And I thought, well yes, that all makes perfect sense, maybe I understand this better than I thought I did. Turns out, yes I understand the frustrations, I understand the WHY of the protest. What I don't understand is what they want the next step to be. If by some miracle someone did come out of the building and say "You know what? You all have a point. How can we make this right?" What would those protesters do? Who would speak for them? and what would they say?

Thats the part that makes me sad. I know our economy is in the shitter, I know that I am luckier than many, I know that I am coming through this largely unscathed. I know that I am lucky to live in a state that believes in affordable healthcare for everyone, so I am able to see a doctor once a week, and whenever I need to. The state of the union right now (that is: not-united, eating itself alive) bums me out. But what bums me out even more is the helplessness of it all. That even as these people are standing on the streets, pouring their hearts out, they are not doing much more than I am. They are spending more energy, and maybe sometime soon that energy will get noticed, it sure has a better chance of getting noticed than me mulling it over silently. But what then? It seems like once its noticed me and the protesters have the same plan - stare blankly.

It reminds me of watching a toddler throwing a tantrum. Its painful to watch someone in distress. And I know that this is the only way they know how to communicate that distress. But because I don't know what would cure that distress, or rather how to procure the cure for their distress, all I can do is watch and empathize. I hope a doctor walks by soon and either fixes it or tells me how to fix it.

I saw a petition online to forgive all student debt, the idea being that with all that extra money all those people could go out and stimulate the economy, and you know, not get evicted. I like this plan, a bail-out for students (of all kinds) who will then go out there and work hard and all that.

But what about the people (like me) who are in school now, what happens to our debt? I suppose it would also be forgiven, but at that point why issue loans at all? Why not just make tuition a government problem? Why not just give everyone scholarships? I like this plan too. I had a professor from Senegal who could never quite wrap his head around the whole student loan thing. He couldn't understand why we (as a people) thought it was a good idea to spend money we didn't have, in order to learn. He didn't understand how the government allowed this to go on. He said that in his country everything was paid for, because the president knew that without an educated populace his country would never get off the ground. I agree, but I am a linguist, not an economist, or a policy maker. So, until I am able to do something more concrete about it, I just agree. And that bums me out.

Fear

I slept poorly last night. I spent yesterday doing homework, (mostly studying Hindi) and watching The Wire on my study breaks. I also cooked and knit a bit, but my brain was most occupied alternately by how to conjugate hindi adjectives and the requirements for being a drug dealer in the projects. Its not the drug deals, the junkies or the violence of the Wire (all 4 episodes that I have seen) that gets me; its the apathy of the cops, the desperation and hard-heartedness of the people in the projects. But the worst part for me, was seeing the one or two characters who cared one way or the other. Those were the characters that stuck in my head and made me think about the show long after I had turned away from the screen.

Apparently this is a bad combination for my brain. I kept waking up in a panic, dreaming that I was failing at school and my classmates had to carry me academically. The worst part was that they resented me for it, they were not glad to help, and they didn't care that I was grateful for the assistance.

Because its October and because I am a fan of Neil Gaiman, I have been thinking about what kind of scary books to get people in my life for All Hallows Read. The thing is, what scares me might not scare you. The things that keep me awake at night, namely the soft heartedness of people in hard hearted situations, might not keep you awake at night. And the things that might scare the pants off of you, are things I might be able to live with (although I doubt it, I'm pretty sensitive). Which makes buying scary things hard. So I have decided that instead of going with things that are scary, I will go with things that are traditionally Halloween-y. World War Z for my brother who out of the blue last week announced he was the best at Zombie survival skills, I truly had no idea. Enders Game for my dad, who has always loved sci fi, and because I just really want an excuse to give him this book. And I think I will use this as an opportunity to introduce my best friend to my favorite author, Neil Gaiman, who writes about strange things, but not always scary things.

To round out this fairly unorganized blog post are a few antidotes to unpleasant and scary things. First off, Madison the 5 year old make up guru, watching her is almost as calming as meditation. There is nothing quite like the focus and competency of small children to calm the nerves. Secondly red pandas playing in the snow which are always good for a smile, especially the last little dude, and finally an oldy but goody: marcel the shell, who won't fight unless provoked.

Thinking and Feeling (and Crying)

The other day this brought me to tears a bit. I'm not sure what exactly it was about it that broke through all my carefully constructed walls. Maybe it was just a chance of timing, maybe I was ready to start crying, maybe I was too tired to not cry anymore, maybe it was the sheer selflessness of it, the beauty and the work that had to go into each project. The anonymity of it is something I recognize too. Sometimes you just want to make something pretty for people who will appreciate it, people who need it, and you just want to get out of the way so they can just appreciate the gift without having to appreciate you too. Sometimes its about the work more than its about the ego.

The leak that those sculptures sprung in me has been dripping for days now. I seem to be ready to weep at every bit of art I see, every tune I hear, every poem I read, every bit of fiction I read, every tv show I see. Truly it seems if someone created it, took it from Idea to reality for the sheer joy of making something that way, it has brought me to tears.

I have been trying to plug that hole with proper posture and some really good, smart hip hop. Even though hip hop is creative and (at least doomtree) seems to be made from a place of love, a place of "I can't help it, I have to make this". It somehow occupies my mind in a way that doesn't leave me weak. I am no less impressed by it than I am by the book sculptures, but it seems to strengthen me, rather than weaken me. It reinforces the idea that I am able to face anything with grace and poise, that I don't have to backdown to see the beauty in things.

I think the creative part of me is trying not to be quelled by the analytical part of me which is taking center stage as I get back into school. Doomtree (and other hip hop artists like them) are a good balance of the two, they seem to make being analytic creative and beautiful.

A Sudden Forest

For the first time in 13 years of therapy I got half way through my appointment and had nothing to talk about! No issues on the horizon, no big stressful situations, no big emotional breakthroughs, nothing. So my therapist pulled out a chart that I have seen before. On one axis there is time/recovery and on the other axis there is symptom use. At the beginning of the chart you see symptom use rise and then plateau, (there is a section at the beginning of the plateau marked "denial"). After the plateau there is a drop in symptom use, but its not a smooth decline, there are plenty of ups and downs of varying degrees, eventually the symptom use line goes back to zero and a little further down the chart there is a point labeled "Recovery" and a little further down the chart there is a point marked "able to discontinue therapy". Today I got to do something I never thought I would be able to do. When my therapist asked me where I thought I was on the chart I got to point to the word Recovery. This is not to say that I never have eating disordered thoughts, but I am finally to the point where those thoughts look genuinely ridiculous to me.

I thought maybe recovery would feel like arriving somewhere. But it doesn't. I kind of feel like i am suddenly realizing i am in the heart of the forest. I was certainly aware that i was heading into a forest, i could see it off on the horizon and as i got closer the trees got thicker, but now i am suddenly actually in the forest. Like the forest caught up to me when I wasn't paying attention. But the forest wasn't my destination, and recovery isn't my final destination either. Now that I am here, I can go on to all the other things I want to do.

This Pot of Gold is Disappointing

I've got nothing going on and its kind of freaking me out. I don't remember the last time my life was so calm and so boring. I suppose it might have been this way last summer, but I don't remember. I suppose thats the thing about times like this, they aren't very memorable.

Since September I have been dealing with one thing or another pretty much continuously. And now, for the first time, I find myself without an illness of some kind, no job and not much homework (I'm still working on my incomplete from Spring semester).

I thought this was what I was waiting for. But I suppose free time is a little bit like chasing the gold at the end of a rainbow, its hard to find, and when you get there it doesn't look anything like you thought it would. I thought I would get to knit whatever I wanted (including finishing up the afghan for my aunt), but I find myself with an injured wrist, so thats not happening. I thought I would get a chance to play all those hours of video games I had been putting off while I was in school, but now that it comes down to it, it seems I can't be bothered. I thought I would finally get to read something for fun, so I started The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, but I'm having a hard time seeing what all the fuss was about. I'm half way through and not all that invested. I thought I would be making a skirt a day now that I have the time, but I haven't touched my sewing machine yet.

I guess my point is, because there is nothing going on in my life, there isn't much to write about, and I am giving myself over to it. So if things seem a little quiet from my corner, don't worry, I'm just relaxing.