Thursday, February 9, 2012

The shit hath hitteth the fan. Ith. -->

So as recent events have unfolded (and again, I am not at liberty to discuss other peoples' shit on the internet, just know that it exists, and for the purposes of this post, I am not going to talk about my own shit in detail other than to complain), I have really come to understand the importance of developing and maintaining strong support systems. It's important to have people, both near and far, who will be there for you when the shit hits the fan. Because it will. It's important to be the kind of person that cultivates relationships with people you want to support and who will support you.

And it's important to have a SYSTEM, a NETWORK. Not a single support person. You can't support an entire roof with one beam. You need to have a few people who can help. You need to be willing to be vulnerable with multiple people, because one person can't take on all your shit. And you need to be part of a lot of people's support systems. You need to be the kind of person that people count on when things get hard, because it's only fair to return the favor. And it does make you appreciate your life more, in a schadenfreude-y kind of way. (And friends with shit--I am not rejoicing in your pain. Really, I'm not.)

And I just want to say that I appreciate the support systems that I have in my life, both here, and back home, and in other, random places. I appreciate that I can call you guys when things go wrong, and you'll talk me through it. You'll give me hugs and ice cream and make it better, and I would be in pretty bad shape if it wasn't for all of you.

That being said, I need to get some freaking sleep. And that sleep needs to not be interrupted by nightmares, because I can barely form a coherent sentence. And it took me approximately 6 hours to get through 2 articles and my reaction paper is truly terrible. Truly. I am sorry, advisor, for the giant, steaming pile of disappointment that this reaction paper is going to be. I also have not been eating much, because I have no appetite because I am unhappy and when I am unhappy I am not hungry at best and nauseous at worst, and when I can muster up the will to eat, everything tastes like sand. It's really throwing me off, this being starving and exhausted thing. And apparently, it's becoming obvious to the people around me that I am unhappy, considering like 6 people did a double take at my barely-any-makeup and seriously-fuckit hairstyle and the 4 pounds that I've lost in the last week and the fact that I didn't have the energy to wear real pants to school on Tuesday (yoga pants are acceptable attire for grad school, right?) and asked me what's wrong.

I'm trying to remember high school when I was this unhappy on a regular basis and how I did not die. I either need to become better at regulating my emotions or forcing my body to do my will and sleep and eat like a normal person.

Srsly, y'all, my brain is dying. It's not quite so dead that I have reached a level of denial about how terrible my work has been and how badly I need to do my damn hair and wear real pants, but it's getting there.

2 comments:

  1. Trying the international breathing room and meditate regularly. It will help!

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  2. In all that great desert, there was not a single green thing growing, neither tree nor flower nor plant save here and there a patch of straggly gray cacti.

    On the last morning {Much Afraid} was walking near the tents and huts of the desert dwellers, when in a lonely corner behind a wall she came upon a little golden-yellow flower, growing all alone. An old pipe was connected with a water tank. In the pipe was one tiny hole through which came an occasional drop of water. Where the drops fell one by one, there grew the little golden flower, though where the seed had come from, Much-Afraid could not imagine, for there were no birds anywhere and no other growing things.

    She stopped over the lonely, lovely little golden face, lifted up so hopefully and so bravely to the feeble drip, and cried out softly, “What is your name, little flower, for I never saw one like you before.”

    The tiny plant answered at once in a tone as golden as itself, “Behold me! My name is Acceptance-with-Joy!“

    Much-Afraid thought of the things which she had seen… Somehow the answer of the little golden flower which grew all alone in the waste of the desert stole into her heart and echoed there faintly and sweetly, filling her with comfort. She said to herself, “He (the Shepherd) has brought me here when I did not want to come, for His own purpose. I, too, will look up into His face and say, ‘Behold me! I am your little handmaiden, Acceptance-with-Joy.’”

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