Figuring it Out

I had known for some time that my marriage was over.  I just really didn’t want to admit it.  I was holding onto hope…  Hope that it would get better.  Hope that if we both worked on it, we’d be stronger.  Hope that I really was overreacting and being too emotional.

I love school.  Even the homework (although I may deny it during finals).  And talking to different professors and reading for pleasure again helped me to figure out the exact field and focus I want to eventually work in.  I knew it was right because as I was thinking about job possibilities, I was open to location.  If work took me away from my beloved New York City, I’d be okay with that.  That’s how I knew.

The second red flag came about as I was speaking with my literature instructor.  She was asking what I wanted to do with my degree.  After I told her, she asked, “What will your husband do?”  I couldn’t answer.  Oops.  Until that moment, I hadn’t considered him at all in my plan.  But why should I?  He never factored me into his plans.

He had planned out our future; my future.  He got upset when I voiced my concerns, frustrations, and possible flaws and would try to quiet me with a, “It will be okay.”  That caused me to get upset and angry and we would both explode.  When I tried explaining my issues, he would get angry and say I was overreacting and being silly.

How exactly can I overreact or be silly when I’m just expressing how I feel?

And She Cries

I think I do a fairly good job of keeping up appearances when I’m not at home.  I am usually serious.  I am aware of my surroundings and I get where I need to get to.  Once there, I’ll let myself relax a little bit.  Not a lot, but some.  It’s only when I’m home where I feel I can really let the wall down and truly be myself.  But something has changed within the past couple of day.

I feel like I’ve gotten more emotional at work, with tears ready to overflow with barely any warning.  I was texting with my best friend about recent issues between my husband and me, and my eyes just filled up.  It’s not a new issue my husband and I are having.  But for some reason, discussing it this week, just made me cry.  I’m usually very good at holding it together when I need to, but I just feel like I’m losing it.

I’m going to partially blame the heatwave this week.  It’s supposed to let up by Sunday.  And I sure hope so.  My boss and I were punchy yesterday at work.  That made everything a lot more fun.  I think the heat’s just getting to me.  At least in these kind of instances.  When speaking about a particular play, I was able to make valid and coherent points.  But if I have to talk about work stuff, I’m a blubbering mess.

This weekend and week ahead are the actual busy times for work.  This means, I don’t really get a break until next weekend.  The work this weekend, won’t be strenuous at all.  I just won’t be able to read for my class.  I don’t like not having enough time.  But at least we’re going to be delving into World War I and I know I have a better understanding of that than the French Revolution.

I think my sleep and eating habits are also partially to blame for my over-emotionalness.  Since I’ve been working on my midterm, I’ve worked after I get home from my class.  I’ve been pretty good about stopping at 11pm.  But then I get sidetracked and distracted and don’t actually fall asleep until midnight.  That just hurts.  As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that I need more sleep.  And I’m fine with that.  Part is I’m still winding down from a long day, part I’m still thinking about my class and what needs to get done the rest of the week, and part is punishment.  I have to stay up late because I don’t deserve to have a good night’s sleep.  I really don’t need the 8 hours I was getting it before.  I can lower it to 5 or 6.  I can do it.  I can push through.  Uh, yeah.  So not true.  But after years and years of obeying the rules, I just do it without question.

I am restricting.  And going to my class is helping with that.  I have what could be considered “half” of a dinner before class, and I fully intend to have another “half” when I get home.  But I don’t.  It’s too late to eat now.  You’ve missed your chance.  Now you have to wait until morning.  I know what I should do.  I know what needs to be done.  But, for some reason, there’s this big huge block in between the knowing and the doing.  I either want to go ahead and do what I need to do, or not even know and live in ignorance.

I’m just tired of the battle in my head.

On Edge

I had a panic attack this morning at Starbucks waiting for my coffee.  Not cool.

I had my digestive issues again today because I consciously didn’t take my meds.  Really not cool.

But at least I can eat a fairly normal lunch.  Not that I really did.  And not that I don’t feel guilty, because I do.  It was just nice to have the thought.

Once again, I am procrastinating writing my essay for my midterm.  Say it with me now, not cool.

I have half a mind to just go straight home today after work, instead of to class.  With my full intention being to work on my midterm, but I know I would just procrastinate then go to bed early.

I should have stayed home from work today.  I felt the anxiety creeping in, but I felt I could push myself through it.

I didn’t sleep as much as I should have last night.  I was up (punishing myself) procrastinating.

I don’t want to be here at work right now.  There’s nothing for me to do.  Well, no actual work anyway.

Yesterday, therapy probably touched on a few issues I would rather not have it touch.  I was fairly honest with her.  I still could have said more.

I get really peeved when my husband says “we”, but it’s really an “I.”  Like me.  Not him.  I would still get irritated, but not quite as much, or in the same way.

I just want to go to sleep.  Or escape for a while.  With no phone, no computer, nothing.

Bubbling Up

I have no words.  I can’t seem to express myself the way I want to.  There are these differing feelings just below the surface, but they’re not coming out. The words aren’t forming. I’m not even sure where to begin.

I found out last week that my midterm for my class is a take home.  It’s such a relief because I was worried how I was going to study to produce something I was proud of.  Now I can write it all out, but I’m having difficulty.  I understand the subject matter and I’ve formed my opinion.  I’m just having a difficult time getting started.  Well, I have a good intro paragraph (I think), but then I’m stuck.  Everything I’m writing isn’t good enough and I end up deleting it.  I’d like to have a rough draft done by this evening, so all I have to do is revise until it’s due on Thursday.  But if I don’t get anything done today, then I won’t have anything to revise and I’ll be stressed and struggling to finish it in the evenings.  I don’t want that.

Part of my worry is that I’m not smart enough to get this done.  While I’m pretty sure this isn’t true, I’m still doubting my abilities.  More likely, this is difficult because I haven’t had to really write anything in the past 10 years.  Not anything that’s going to be graded anyway.  I’m just out of practice.  I know it will become easier the longer I’m in school.  But there’s still that part that this is how it’s going to be from now on.  I’ve already used up my writing talents when I went through school in the first time.  What makes me think I can do it again?

I took my new medicine for the first time yesterday.  I didn’t experience any side effects, so that’s positive.  And my digestive issues were greatly decreased, which is great.  It’s just what I wanted, but…  I was consciously restricting because I knew I wasn’t going to have the issues anymore, so there wasn’t going to be any compensation.  I’m going to gain weight.  I don’t want to gain anymore weight.  And that’s what the scale showed this morning.

I  logically know that my weight is going to fluctuate day to day.  It’s not supposed to stay the same.  But I still don’t like that the numbers went up.  And now I feel like doing whatever I can to get the numbers to go back down.  I know I can’t do that.  It will really interfere with my school work and life, but the thoughts are still there.  Some of the follow through is still there.  And I’m not sure what to do.

I just don’t know what to do.

Except get back to trying to get my midterm done.

Speaking Out

I find myself in a very interesting situation.  I just noticed it during last night’s class.  I have very easily and quickly slipped into the “quiet girl” role I used to play in school.  I never said anything and I never asked any questions.  And I’m doing it again.  It’s just worrisome because part of our grade is based on participation, not just attendance, and talking equals participation.

I’m apprehensive about asking questions normally, but last night’s lecture kind of sealed the deal that I would just keep my mouth shut and figure it out on my own.  A student asked a question about what the professor was talking about.  And the professor basically jumped down his throat saying that he needs to figure it out on his own.  And while I understand, it’s ultimately up to me to learn the material, if I ask a question, it’s probably because I don’t understand and need clarification.  I think that’s normally why people ask questions.  But this professors’ reply makes me want to ask or answer anything.  I will just sit in my chair, listen, and hopefully take good notes.  The student was angry after class, and rightfully so, but he kept his anger until we were out of earshot.

But this made me think–Would I have responded any differently had I been the one to ask the question?  I’m not sure.  I probably would have sunk down in my seat and hid my tears.  And I wonder how I can be so intimidated in a certain situation, but I can be intimidating in others.  I can speak my mind with my husband, friends, family (well, for the most part), and even the occasional stranger.  But put me in a situation where I’m slightly uneasy and I can barely say hello.

I would like to think that I would have some courage to stand up to this professor and tell him that’s not a particularly appropriate response to a student’s question.  I am paying the school a tuition.  The school takes that tuition (along with other monies) and pays the professor a salary for providing a service–teaching specific classes.  I am taking that class, therefore I am paying for that service and should not have issues like this come up.

I work in customer service.  I deal with customers.  When they have questions, I patiently explain the issue to them.  I can’t tell them to figure it out for themselves when they have the paper work in front of them and I’ve already explained it once.  I understand that teaching is different, but even when I taught I never spoke like that to a student.  It’s just frustrating and defeating to have a teacher like that.

I also started speaking with some of the other students before class started.  It was good.  I thought I was the only one who was lost during the lectures (and reading) and had difficulty keeping up with the reading, but I’m not.  It made me feel better that current undergraduate students (who are majoring in this subject) are having difficulties.  Almost a sense of relief.  At least I’m not alone.  I also felt a little relief during the lecture when I realized I had taken notes on the reading about what the professor was saying.  I felt validated that I was doing the right thing and need to keep going it.