The older I get (35 later this month, for anyone who's keeping track), the more I realize that life is made up of seasons. Not weather or temperature-related seasons, but seasons of good fortune and bad luck. Seasons of depression and happiness. Seasons of love and laughter and seasons of hard times and longing.
This season that I am in...it is a bad season. I find myself more lost in my life than I have ever felt before. I feel like I took something that I really loved and enjoyed--the library, books, children's programming--and I ruined it. Grad school, for a lack of a better term, sucks. I hate it, hate every second of every class, hate the readings and the lectures and the papers and the assignments. But mostly I hate the anxiety that comes along with the deadlines...every week feels like fresh torture. I wake up in the middle of the night with a tightness in my chest...a feeling like I can't breathe, can't take a deep breath. I've never felt this way for so long before. And the worst part is knowing that it isn't going to end any time soon. I'm not even halfway through my Master's.
This season finds me thinking very childish, very selfish thoughts. This season finds me wanting to call in sick to work every day because the thought of going in to be this new position, the "boss" that I never really wanted to be at all, makes me physically sick to my stomach. This season has me plotting ways that I could just not finish my Master's but never tell anyone, let everyone assume I did. This season has me wondering if I could just run away in the middle of the night...
None of this season is rational, but worse, none of this season is ME at all. I feel the parts of myself that I love the most--the carefree, silly person who loves to laugh and have fun--slipping silently away underneath the fear and anxiety of all of these new demands. This season has been full of tears, me weeping quietly over my keyboard in a silent house. This season has been the loneliest season of my life.
When I have days (and weeks, and lately, months) where I feel like this season will never end, I say to myself the things that everyone says:
This, too, shall pass.
Stop being so hard on yourself!
You're smart, you can do this.
You are good at your job, they are lucky to have you.
You're a good mom, you're doing the best you can right now.
Stop being so hard on yourself!
You're smart, you can do this.
You are good at your job, they are lucky to have you.
You're a good mom, you're doing the best you can right now.
It helps, sometimes. It helps me remember that no one is perfect and I am waking up every day and putting on my different hats and getting it done. It helps that no one sees me cry about it, I've been a very private person these last few weeks especially. But this season...oh this season. I hope 5 years from now when I am staring 40 in the face that I look back on this season and I remember that I was strong, and that I pushed through it, and I worked 40 hours a week and did 15+ hours of school work and tried my best to make it to every school meeting and sporting event and I don't remember that I cried every day and I hated my life. I really, really, really hope. For now, that hope is enough.
Here are some pictures of this past summer, which was a better season. Until next time...
