Just Blowin' in the Wind

21 days until I'm done school.

20 days until no more exams.

18 days until no more papers.

7 days until no more books.

4 days until no more memorization.

I got this.

And on to the rest of my life because, believe it or not, I do have better things to think about. Example: how will I spend my glorious, nearly month-long Christmas break? So many ideas, so many glorious potentialities, and most of them revolve around a good night's rest.

Another example: how to best celebrate six amazing months with an even more amazing man? That's tricky. We're both so busy with end of semester cramming, but fitting incredible into the crevices of mundane seems... sacrilegious? Or maybe just unfair. But even if it's the worst night ever and everything that could go wrong does, there is no one I would rather spend a crappy night with (as already proved in the Fiasco-that-was-Save-On night).

Another example: how will I spend my summer? I don't plan on doing much of anything...and for me, a full-time job (as long as there's no work to take home) would feel like a break compared to the last five and a half years. Yes, years. I don't think I have taken a legitimate amount of time off from the rush and pull of things both necessary and over-the-top ridiculous since the summer I graduated high school. A week here and there does not count. It will be nice to be normal.

It's funny. The closer to the end of the semester I get, the more active my brain gets. Normally it's the opposite, but I think she knows it's almost time to use thinking and planning and creating for fun again.

Tonight I'm going to get a bit ahead on homework, drink some tea and get to bed by 12:30 at the latest. Then, even though it's my sleep-in, I will get up before 10 and do more homework. I actually never thought I could be that person.

Pressure

No time. Again. Ugh.

I am in danger of failing three of my classes because of not doing work. Bad. I have apparently forgotten how to do simple, menial tasks that are not hard but do require 30 seconds out of my day. Also bad. I am dangerously close to falling over the edge, not in the way I am used to, and it scares/excites the everything out of me. Bad?

I also only alternate between two kinds of deodorant at the moment.

Times are a-changin'.

No It don't Come easy, No It don't Come Fast

What to say?

I am being forced to dig within myself to the most hurting, buried parts, bring them to the surface, and face them head on. Through this process I am finding out exactly how much of my life I have repressed. It is a lot.

I remember the first day I taught myself to compartmentalize to the point where I could be physically present in a conversation, respond as required to the smallest degree possible, and record what was being said for later review. That way I could recall it later, piece by piece, and not deal with the hurt in front of the person. Unfortunately, I always forgot the last step; I would leave the traumatizing material buried and not even scratch the surface of my hurt. As these things have compounded over the last three years (the time since that date), it has only served to further compound the things inside that I had already done this with, unbeknownst to myself. Now when I try to access a memory from, say, the second grade, it's gone. I have to dig through the last fifteen years of garbage until I finally get into a place of clarity where it is possible to see the hurts (or even positive experiences) from way back then.

All I can say so far is how sad I am. I am sad that I have wasted so much of my life repressing instead of facing. So sad that I am now having to spend a significant chunk of my life working through this stuff instead of getting on with my life. Devastated by what I'm turning up, which if it had been addressed in the moment would have only been a scratch on the exterior of my soul; instead it has become a sickness to my soul. I cannot believe some of the things I am discovering.

This is going to be the hardest work I have faced thus far.