Writing After a While

Been feeling a bit small and broken. In the face of new hire paperwork, signing an official contract, and registering for new teacher trainings... not to mention the daunting prospect of preparing a classroom and curriculum for 120ish kids. I'm having a hard time seeing the now from the future's fears.

I find myself wanting to feel worse than I do. I feel my meds working and my sanity fighting harder for majority rule. Yet that dark side is pushing, trying to regain control and part of me wants it to. I want a crisis to get me out of this pressure. I want to be in more pain so I have an excuse, a reason to say "I can't" as opposed to "I'm afraid." It feels sick and twisted and yet reasonable too.

The hubs is so pragmatic compared to my emotional turmoil. He reminds me to focus on the now and what I've done toward my goals today, not the goals in entirety, everything at once as if it needs to happen NOW. It's not realistic or true. I do have some time to get everything done. I even have time after school starts to keep working on my trade and preparations. It's ongoing. So like life, no real finish line, just so many beginnings.

Anyways.

Haven't written in a few days so we'll see what happens with this week's Words for Wednesday!

1.  Mythology                                             7.   Barrier

2.  Contemporary                                       8.  Captivate

3.  Instinct                                                    9.   Companion

4.  Overture                                               10.   Unique

5.  Banter                                                   11.   Affair

6.  Groundbreaking                                 12.   Interior  

The mythology was captivating and unique. My companion in the bunk above would not have appreciated the lush interior of the science fiction novel; the unique and groundbreaking fiction creating a world similar to ours but different enough to captivate and educate. It seems we don't learn as well from our own examples. Simple banter over a character's affair becomes an overture about my own secret desires for a different life that I know would doom me. Yet that instinct to dream persists. The barrier to my happiness was surely the inability to accept my reality according to the book and I couldn't argue with this ancient as well as contemporary wisdom. How many pop psychologists touted the same fixtures of happiness? And yet how many societies pushed for change and desire. I devoured the book and it's fantastical content, relishing the mystical characters that I shared so much in common with. Maybe someday I would become actualized like the protagonist and yet part of me wished it would never be so and that I could cherish this book forever in my struggle.

Well there ya have it. It feels a little vague and not quite fleshed out but I think it touches on some of the heady thoughts I've been dancing with lately.


In other news, the hubbo thinks it might behoove us to move sooner. Saving money and such. I'm afraid of the whole prospect. All the worries about school and then the fact that I haven't begun packing a single thing! So much pressure. Mostly created in my own mind... I'm not alone. No one expects me to be perfect. And most everyone I've spoke to about the move has been so happy for me and supportive and excited-I know that they see something in me that I can't see myself right now.


I just have to step back.


These tiny steps back and forth. I feel like a worm!