Add Some Chaos to the Madness

The past month has been a bit of a whirl for me, my husband still has not found another job, bills are being paid by helpful family members and I am coming to terms with the fact that I have to quit school so that I can support my small but demanding household.  This is my chaos.

I have been working for years toward a goal that I’m not even sure I want anymore but loath to give up because it means I have to return to the drawing board.  I spent a month writing a novel in the hopes that someone will read and want to publish it.  This is my madness.

My life has stopped making sense.  I am stressed out to the point of making myself sick.  I try to soldier on and continue with my life but then something else comes to smack me in the face.

On the morning of Thanksgiving some more bad news blew into my life, anything that I had been thankful for disappeared and I was left feeling depressed.  My husband and I loaded into the car a little later to gather with family for the holiday but I was still feeling low.  In the evening my whole family gathered in the living room and they went around to every single person so that they could share what they were thankful for.  I was not in the mood to be thankful for anything, I did not share.  Instead I went to the corner to feel sorry for myself.

Later, when my bad mood had passed and I squared my shoulders to again face life head on, I felt like I had cheated myself out of something.  There were many things I was thankful for that I had now missed the opportunity to share with my family.

In times of sadness and struggle it is so easy to lose oneself in the big problem that is staring us in the face and ignore the fact that there are little victories but the truth is that little victories are what make life worth living.  Little victories are what you get up for in the morning and what keeps us going between the big events, victory or failure.

So in no particular order, my victories this year:

  • My Grandpa walked me down the aisle.
  • I got married.
  • I finished Nanowrimo.
  • I made new friends.
  • I ate Chipotle in three new states.
  • I got to see my niece.
  • I ran a 5K with said niece.
  • I did a 5K with my friends.
  • I left the country for the very first time.
  • I got a new car.
  • I found the place that I want to live.
  • I found the house I want to live in.
  • My relationship with my husband is better than it has been in years.

The World of Pre-Professionals

Today, ladies and gentlemen, you do not get me screaming from a roof top but me sobbing in the corner of the quiet library while people toss me furtive glances of wishing I would shut up but not wanting to look at the hideousness that is my tear streaked face.

Today my Pre-Optometry club invited a spokes person from Houston Optometry College to come and talk to all of us about the admission process and the requirements and so on an so forth.  Let me just tell you, nothing will suck the soul out of a person faster than having to reduce the sum of your life to a few numbers.  After those numbers meet their qualifications then they will invite one to the campus to see what the person consists of.  But the story that they need to hear, the one where I did maybe a little badly in college the first time but then got my crap together once I realized my life goal, is the thing they won’t get from the numbers.  I cannot get my foot in the door without the numbers 3.5 and 330 tattooed on my college career.

If only the phrase, “you are what you eat” could be applied in this situation, I would eat ABC’s & 123’s for the next 3 years. (Only the 3’s of course…)

There is a feeling of hopeless realization that washes over one that wishes to torture themselves with more than 4 years of college, especially following the type of presentation meant to inspire one to go to professional health school.  After just such a presentation, if I could freeze time, there is not a moment of that time that I would spend doing anything but studying for the OAT.  Everyone else has dreams of grandeur and de-shirting random hotties in public and so forth, but I would curl up, cry, nap and study.  I might also steal but only OAT work books and things because some of those books are literally hundreds of dollars and I think that is robbery in the first place.  Nothing prepares you for the specific feeling of depression that washes over you as you continue to trudge on this horrible, self-deprecating path.  So the next time that you see your doctor/dentist/optometrist, ect. just tell them thank you and that you’re sorry.  Sorry for the struggle that school was and sorry that you don’t properly take care of your body/teeth/eyes like you know you should, because you know you don’t.