After The House Shook from Thunder

"My ability to turn good news into anxiety is rivaled only by my ability to turn anxiety into chin acne" --Tina Fey

I've been tense and anxious lately. The funerals, living at home with anxious/stressed family members, thinking about the GRE, not having a paycheck for a month and a half, and then all of the research I'm doing about graduate schools is a lot to think about. I've spent the last two days just searching grad schools, looking at their application fees, portfolio expectations, and all of the other requirements. Most of the schools I want to apply to are incredibly competitive. Every writer wants to get paid to go to school and write. Sure, it's not a lucrative lifestyle, but it's a way to survive while expanding my mind and being forced to do something I love. Not to mention no one can get a job. Combine those things, and the grad programs are overflowing with applications. I want to go into the application process certain of what I'm looking for, with a variety of schools to choose from, and a strong portfolio. That requires planning far in advanced. That's why I've been investing so much time into it these past few days when I have good internet and little responsibility.

I'm also stressed about how I'm going to get back to school in order to go to therapy and yoga on Wednesday, but the problem is that I need to be back home by Thursday night in order to make my meeting with the nuns Friday morning about next year. I can get a ride there with Leslie tomorrow. Getting home is the problem, then I'd want to come back up to spend my last week ever in the location where I've spent the last five years--not to mention the whole moving out of an apartment I lived in for three years process.

My chin has sick, painful eruptions going on from the stress. I love that Tina Fey quote because it mirrors my own life so closely.

Tonight there was an awful storm. A tornado warning was issued, and while we were in the basement thunder rumbled so loud that it shook the house. This intense weather is a bit scary. Also the cold weather we've had lately makes me think that the seasons just aren't right anymore. I don't want to sound like the paranoid people, but I worry about the damage humans have done to this beautiful earth. No one lives a life of balance. We take much more than we give. I don't think life can carry on like this. Not that I'm predicting some end-of-the-world situation. I just worry the consequences we will suffer from our choices, or the consequences the next generations will be forced to deal with because of our choices.

I ordered a yoga dvd, which has a specific practice aimed at people with anxiety and depression. It was reviewed very positively, so I'm optimistic. I finally accepted that I'm just not experienced enough to practice alone without someone guiding me on what to do. I've seen how much better yoga can make me feel, so I hope that this DVD will be a good investment, even though I'm not working right now. I figure if it can help me feel healthier this summer, than it's worth it.

I also was excited to find a list of the top 25 most underrated MFA programs. I'd been so stressed by seeing the acceptance rates of some of the programs I'm looking into--a good majority of them have acceptance rates under %10. I know it's important to apply to a variety of programs, but at the same time, I want my grad school experience to be the best it can be. My professors rave about their time spent in MFA programs, and how you're sheltered from the real world because you are just surrounded by so many people who love and breathe writing like you. Then, they talk about the shock of leaving that community and realizing how lonely the writing life can be. I want to appreciate my 2-3 years surrounded by writing.

Passion for Life

Nothing makes you appreciate the fragility of life more than a funeral. I had two different friends have their grandmas die this week. Luckily I'm at my parents', so I can attend the funerals and/or visitations. Death circulates our subconscious almost constantly according to researchers who study death anxiety. Things as simple as buckling our seatbelt are motivated by death anxiety. We rarely consciously think about death. It's not until sublime scenery or a funeral that we pause to think about our own mortality.

A friend of mine posted a status that she is having a rough time and needs support and encouragement. This young woman radiates joy and just an overall passion for life. It amazes me that some of the most alive and joyful people I know experience such dark times. I suppose it makes sense that those who experience joy the most intensely are able to do so because of their experiences in darkness.

I've done a lot of reading lately. Last night, I downloaded a bunch of podcasts related to writing, spirituality, or mental health. I have low expectations for myself to produce much writing this summer. I tend to be less creative when I'm living at home, especially when I work and the weather is nice outside. It's important to me that I take advantage of this time with no obligations. When I'm tired, reading can even be challenging. Podcasts are nice because I can learn so much while lying on the couch with my eyes closed. If I fall asleep, I'll try again sometime. There's really only things to gain from them.

Lilacs

Lilacs trigger two memories for me. The first one is actually one of my first memories ever. It involves having to ask Mom to take me outside to see and smell the lilac bush at our first house. There's a picture of her holding me up so I can put my nose up to the flower. I must have been three or four. I'm not sure if the picture is from that first memory, though. It's the same lilac bush, but this "first" memory seems fuzzier than a photograph. It's like trying to recall a dream. My other first group of memories are from a trip to Disney World when I was two. I have a vague memory of riding the Dumbo ride with my friend and her young Aunt and hugging Frankenstein (I was a big hugger as a child). Actually, I also remember sitting on Miss America's lap. That probably sounds weird, but we were at Disney World for me to compete in "Baby Miss USA." I'd won a free trip for my family and me so I could participate in the pageant and go to Disney World. All of this and a nice savings bond were the results of being crowned "Baby Miss Michigan." Leslie likes to tell people at the bar that I was "Baby Miss Michigan." It's a funny conversation starter, but it's strange telling people I "peaked" at the age of two. This toddler pageant allowed each of the fifty contestants to meet Miss America. I don't remember much about her. I remember she signed a picture for me and gave me a hug.

I don't talk much about my pageant days. My therapist brings them up a lot, so I've gotten more comfortable talking about them. It's really weird for me to remember, though. Child pageants are such a strange culture.

The second memory about lilacs is when Laura brought me some lilac branches she broke off of a bush near the hospital when I was in the psych unit. The bright purple and beautiful scent brightened my room up a bit. I kept them in there the whole time I was in there, even after they died. It's interesting that one memory involves being held to smell lilacs and the other, being hospitalized, is like a return to the days of being held.

I just read Ashley Judd's book, and she talked about how her time receiving in-patient treatment for depression allowed her to be babied and taken care of like she never was as a child. I don't want to go into many details about how that relates to me, but I certainly agree that my hospital experience provided a safe place for me to be held up a little closer to the flowers in my life. My days in the hospital are just as influential in who I am today as my childhood days. I can't deny either experiences because they shaped me. I like that both memories about lilacs and spring are so similar, yet nearly 20 years a part in my short life. Lilacs also trigger my allergies, which also says something on a psychoanalytical level since I love them so much.

Yoga by the River

Yesterday, I had my first yoga class by the river. The temperature couldn't have been more perfect. I didn't sweat or shiver once. I'd been having trouble sleeping because I'm still tense from finishing school. To combat the tension, I started jogging again. In my five years here, I took breaks from working out for an assortment of reasons, but this semester goes down in history as the only time I went an entire semester without working out. The funny part? Everyone has asked me if I lost weight. After my meds made me gain weight so rapidly a couple of years ago, I've worked very hard to keep from gaining more. In all my time of working out, I didn't lose weight. Then, the moment I stop trying, I lose the weight? I'm not complaining. If only I knew it could be so easy. I'm sure it relates to my latest decrease in medication, but I'm wondering if it's feasible to return to my old weight pre-depressive episode--now that I'm working out. I don't want to obsess about it. It's just nice to feel healthy now that I'm jogging again.

In yoga yesterday, I couldn't believe how terrible my balance and concentration has gotten. I knew I hadn't taken time to center myself, but I felt like a wreck. I still enjoyed the balance poses. There is something powerful about being able to control your mind and body simultaneously.

Graduation on Saturday proved to be wonderful. I felt so proud of myself and overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone who supported me along the way. I couldn't sleep because of all the excitement I felt. I posted a note on facebook thanking everyone. I was worried people might get annoyed at my sentimentality, but then I figured I'd rather make sure everyone knows how thankful I am for them instead of assuming they already know. There's no harm in putting positivity out in the world, so I decided I had nothing to lose. Overall, I got a lot of positive feedback, sometimes even from people I haven't talked to in a long while.

I'm reading Marya Hornbacher's new book called Waiting, which is about spirituality as a non-believer. It takes a lot more concentration to read than some of her past books. Her past books were fun, fast-paced books with nice reflections slipped in. This one is mostly reflection and it goes into a lot of depth. I like the way she thinks. I am reading it for fun right now, but I will reread it and take notes at a later date to use for my own reflections.

I'm sitting outside in a tank-top, capris, and flip-flops for the first time all year. I thought it could even be considered too warm when I went jogging today. I like to eat breakfast before I jog, so I didn't go jogging until late morning. it's perfect now that I'm sitting outside under a tree. I need a hair cut, though. My hair is so thick and long that it's like a giant blanket on my head...enough complaining. Life is going great these days.

Hop-scotching to Avoid Earthworms

Nothing makes stress worse than bad weather. If I had to sum up the last couple weeks of school, I would say it was a lot of rushing around in the rain both literally and metaphorically. The only thing worse than extreme stress is bad weather on top of said stress. I spent too many late nights hop-scotching to avoid mud, puddles, and worms while I power-walked home, trying (unsuccessfully) to keep my new shoes clean. I'm having a hard time comprehending the worst is over. I will officially have a college degree after this week. It's been a bittersweet five years. I've learned more than I ever thought possible--the most important lessons being outside of the classroom. I'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity to experience higher-education, and I don't think I'll ever fully be able to leave academia. There's something invigorating about so many idealists in one location. I've met life-changing people during my time here and am so proud to know such a great variety of classmates, coworkers, bosses, and professors. My life will never be the same. I used to pity the people who went to college and worked at jobs that didn't require or appreciate a college degree. I thought it could be considered a waste of money. After my experience with education, I understand that education is an investment that betters a persons life regardless of whether it directly impacts their career. Education is the answer to so many of our social problems, and I believe a little knowledge, wisdom, and love can change the world. Enough sentimentality about my education. It has not all been fun. In fact, getting this degree has involved absolute hell at times. That may sound like an over-exaggeration, but those who know what my undergraduate days have entailed will understand that there were many times I did not think I'd make it through. Overall, my point is that I am not taking my education for granted. I hope to use my degree to make positive change in my life as well as those who are touched by it.

I have been getting excited looking into graduate schools. It is my goal to develop an even more solid portfolio than I had for this past year. After another few months of writing, I expect to have something I'm really proud of to submit to grad schools. The ideas about everything that is possible for me in the future as a writer is thrilling. The idea of having a year off to read and write whatever I want is the best thing that could have happened to me for this year. I look forward to seeing where I will end up after a year dedicated to my growth as a writer and human being. I actually decided I am going to start a new blog in the fall when I move in with the nuns. I might still keep this up just to give me access to all of my old entries, but with a new one, I will be able to treat it with more reverence and importance, in addition to giving my blog site out to anyone and everyone who is interested. It will be a step toward getting some public attention too, which is good for trying to get published.

I guess I should go prepare for my week of exams. It's been a wonderful, long weekend. I spent most of it sleeping, reading, and just plain relaxing. I loved every second of it and feel recharged to tackle my final week as an undergraduate. Happy Spring, everyone!