First week stress and growing into a solution (lol) (near 5pm)


First week stress and growing into a solution (lol) (near 5pm)

The first full week of school is stressful. It just is. It is just Thursday, but there is a certain amount of stress in having things change so often, and the push and pull of accommodating a new schedule. I have peace. I’m going to ask God to meet me here.

Next week, I am going to flirt with wearing makeup again. I like to not wear it too often, but sometimes when I want to make the extra effort to look classy, I like to choose bold colors in understated ways; a bright gel eyeshadow, a touch of metal tones to compliment the shades in my shirt. Nothing huge, but I like to accent what God gave me in being born in his image. Bonus points if it brings out what was already there.

Makeup or no makeup, I know that I am loved and valued by God. It is enough, even when I’m stressed, because I struggle so that it might be enough. This too will pass. Breathe. Do something better, for just a little while, and come back. The task will still be there. The grind will exist, even when I run from it. If I cannot move except to rest and take stock, then let me do that, and take my time. I will probably find it can be done in less than 10 minutes, because I’ve practiced. Write. Dance. Sing it out. It will become yet another part of the wind.

I made a promise to the unknown to enjoy this semester, and I will. I may be stressed now, but that is pretty standard, for how these cycles of new doing things go. I won’t be stressed in about 15 minutes, once this is written. But for now, I’m picking off the leaves on my stressful tree, and I’m moving on; sending them down the stream. I want to be home, but that can’t come until I die. Heaven is the end goal; the “feeling like I don’t belong” thing can be a good thing for the time being, if I allow it to be.

Sleep. Sleep loss. Being tired. Rest. These things come in bizarre little patterns. If I use academic language, I could get published by some of the things I think about them. I wonder if that makes a difference, sometimes. It’s strange that we call each other different names and do the same thing, with ever more similar methods. All I know is that I need a nap.

I know my week next week will be better. So long as I balance out the stress with equal amounts of awesome, it always seems to work out. It’s like a teeter-totter you’d find in some prehistoric playground, since they’ve long since ripped them out of the places I used to dwell. The world became so much smaller when they did that. It was like pulling out a tooth.

The idea of permanence is something that I struggle with, but for the time being, I’m going to focus on rebranding that in my mind’s eye as a positive thing, long enough so that I might believe it a little more, as the days go by. That isn’t a bad thing, it’s just true. It is something beautiful to be able to really experience the world. I don’t always like it, but it is part of me. It doesn’t define me, but it is. I’m sleepy right now, and I’m sure that if I walk over to a drinking fountain and force myself to rehydrate, I will feel much better. I will be able to pay attention until later tonight, and I will do my best to coast until I fall asleep naturally, around the same time. My brain is full of slightly prickly things that could really use some sleep, but falling asleep during the day normally screws with me. I will doze through the rest of the day until I naturally decompose into slumber.

Will things disappear? It’s a constant thought, and I’m okay with that now. I’m tired and I need to allow that to just be, sometimes. They might disappear. They might reappear. They might turn into little sock puppet statues and cavort across the lawn I’m looking down upon, outside my window. At least I know that even if I playfully compose my reality, when I imagine nonsense I will laugh. That gives me peace, because at least I know that if I were ever to develop schizophrenia, I would be laughing here and there. I’m not so sure that is a bad thing, given how most healthy people live their lives into the ground, like a pre-sunken airplane. Then again, I need to sleep.

I wonder if you are fully sane, if you never question your sanity. I misspell words all the time, and I’m beginning to think that is just a byproduct of my musical brain writing the sound and imitating by hearing. That is beautiful to me. I hope to learn various languages, and I’m counting that as a bonus.

I like how different people think. My elders think similar to me here and there, and I think like them, and that makes me extremely happy, to be able to appreciate what they can do, and realize that their lives are beautiful. Not many people my age do that, and it is a choice. It makes me infinitely sad.

But, this is life, and it is rather messy, even with the “formulas” we use to simply it (according to one of my belovedly nuttier teachers). It’s okay. I use formulas too, I guess.

I’m going to wrap this up. It’s nice to be able to think, but too much thinking with wither your brain.

Until next time,



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I am a teacher-to-be who loves people. I am not afraid of many things. I like to explain my thoughts logically on a very birds-eye view level--I was born thinking that way. I follow Jesus Christ, and I accept only that label to describe my identity--that I am a child of God, as are infinite others, regardless of their other identities. Christ is my one thing.

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