Ready for a break.

I'm supposed to be writing an essay but I can't think straight. That's a common occurrence lately. I can sit here pondering the viscosity of various cheeses on my own time, but put me in a classroom and my mind goes blank at even the simplest of questions.

Some maintenance men did a lot of stuff in my residence hall last week. They stirred up so much dust that the hallway looked like it was filled with smoke. I don't know precisely what was in that dust, apart from drywall, but I was allergic to it. I was miserable all week. They came back on Monday and were at it again, right outside the door to my suite. What can you do when you're too miserable to get up and go somewhere, but the very thing making you miserable is your home? And what are you supposed to do when the hallway right outside your door is even worse?

If my allergies weren't bad enough on their own, my insomnia has been worse lately. I'm exhausted all the time. I mentioned before that I can't focus or think properly. I've also started losing a bit of control over my fine motor skills. Each day it gets harder and harder just to grasp a pencil to take notes in class. My handwriting is all over the place. And my ability to concentrate is completely shot, so by the time I manage to get, say, half a slide covered, the instructor moves on to the next subject and I have no clue what I missed. Sunday night I began taking a stronger dose of melatonin, hoping it would help me sleep better. I barely slept at all last night.

I shook literally all morning and had to prop my head up with my hand just to stay upright in class. I went to a lab section that is not my own to make up the lab I missed on Monday, and the questions were very basic. I should have been able to answer them relatively quickly so I could leave. It took me almost the entire lab period to finish, and I only left then because I gave up and made up something for the last two questions. I just couldn't comprehend the material before me. I came home and promptly had an emotional breakdown.

I am sick and tired of being sick and tired. I'm sick of missing out on things because they're outside, or the atmosphere is loud and hurts my head, or because it's in a place with fluorescent lights and would be even more painful than dealing with noise. I'm sick of not being able to read because I can't get my eyes to focus on the text. I'm sick of having absolutely no energy and coming home and collapsing after every single class. I forget everything. Assignment due dates, words for things I really do know the name of, the ends to sentences I'm in the middle of voicing. I can't spell. I can't type. (I can't tell you how many mistakes I've deleted from this.) I'm just fed up with all of it. It's so incredibly frustrating not to have control over my own mind and body.

I have spent so much time praying for strength, for peace, for sleep. That's all I have the power to do. And honestly, at this point I'm tired of that, too.

I've been putting up with this for eight years, and I'm tired of it. I just want to be healthy. I just want to be normal. And right now, I'd love it if I could break down crying and then feel better like other people do, but I can't even have that because crying makes my head hurt even more.

Confession #58

It's been eight years and I still can't go in the old high school auditorium without getting misty-eyed.

All those years of ballet, all those recitals, The Nutcracker every December. So many memories. It's a good thing I'm not allowed backstage during the middle school band concerts, because I know if I found my way back there, I'd surely cry.

I miss dancing. I miss feeling like I was in complete control of my body. I miss having that rhythm in my bones that made it impossible to be still. I miss the bright lights and the music that flowed through the entire building. I miss the fancy costumes and the stage makeup. I miss the excitement of waiting in the wings, hiding behind the curtains while performing all the steps with the dancers on stage because we'd seen it rehearsed so many times that we had their parts memorized along with our own. I miss the thrill of walking—never running!—behind the backdrops on stage, knowing that the scenery was all that separated us from the dancers performing and the audience beyond them. I miss the camaraderie. I miss goofing off in the dressing rooms, doing things we knew we probably shouldn't but which we got away with because there was little supervision. I miss the hand-drawn personalized stars cut from construction paper and taped to the mirrors so everyone would know who had claimed which spot. I miss the surreal way time seemed to stop while we were backstage, like the whole world suddenly revolved only around us. I miss it all.

I saw a girl at my sister's band concert tonight, a member of the sixth grade band, who was smaller than all the others. Her blonde hair was slicked back into a bun. She walked by my family after they left the stage, and I couldn't help but notice how perfect her hair looked. It was the kind of bun that comes from much experience. I have to wonder if she's a dancer too. If she is, I hope it's as magical for her as it always was for me.

Making like a tree and leaf-ing my old life behind

I'm supposed to be writing an essay write now. Actually, two essays. Actually, two essays and a small composition for French. And preparing a short presentation for Human Development. But... eh. This seems like a better use of my time right now.

I went home this past weekend, and saw something that inspired me to write. The redbud tree in the backyard—the one that has been there for years and years—has died. Or at least it looks dead. While all the other redbuds in the neighborhood have gorgeous pink and purple flowers, ours is completely bare. I've always loved that tree, so I was saddened when I stared at it from my bedroom window on Saturday. Sunday morning, I stepped outside to see what the temperature was like, and I decided to walk over to the tree, just reminiscing. When I got close I was surprised to find a number of very small offshoots from the trunk, all trying to put out leaves. How cool is that?

It reminded me that God is constantly working in our lives, renewing us, reviving us, often transforming us. I know that there has been a crazy amount of new growth in my own life in the past couple of years. It almost feels unreal to me sometimes.

When I started this blog, I was absolutely miserable when I was alone, and even more miserable in social settings. I wanted to magically force my social anxieties to go away. Obviously it didn't work. About a year later, I came to understand that God is the only one with that kind of power, and that He could help me as long as I was willing to let Him. As I learned to trust God more and more, I came to understand myself more. I realized that I was not just overly shy but actually afraid and mistrusting of others. With God's help, I addressed those issues and have been actively working on them ever since. In August, I marched up to two very large challenges and said Bring it on. These challenges were in the form of a boyfriend and a Bible study group. The boyfriend needed a girlfriend and the group needed one more leader, and I was the one for both.

My boyfriend has been a huge challenge in trust. I've had to learn how to be open and honest with him, how to really talk to someone. Through him, God has also been teaching me how to rely on someone. I don't know if you're aware of this, but I'm stubborn. Really stubborn. And set in my ways. And for seven years, I was in the habit of being on my own and doing everything for myself. You can imagine how frustrating this would be for my boyfriend. The poor, sweet guy tries so hard to take care of me, and I haven't always been the best at allowing it. I used to shut him out more than I let him in, and it wasn't until I started fully letting God in that I was able to really share myself with another person. It's much easier now to let him just be there for me. (Other things, like letting him be a gentleman and carry things for me, for instance, are still a daily battle, but I'm working on it.) We have grown incredibly close over the past several months, and I am so, so blessed to have him in my life.

While my boyfriend has been teaching me how to trust, God has been using my Bible study group to help me get over my fears. In case it isn't painfully obvious already, I hate being the center of attention. Hate it. In almost any context. (Like in the beginning of our relationship, when my boyfriend excitedly introduced me to everyone he knows—I kind of wanted to run away or be swallowed up by a black hole or something.) So being the co-leader of a group is huge for me. I kind of shocked myself when I agreed to do it. Actually, I'm sort of in a permanent state of shock, because even though we've been doing this since mid-Septemberish, putting myself at the center of attention still scares me every week. When we discuss our lesson plan before each meeting, I have a clear idea of exactly what I want to say, and then when I start to speak to the group, I panic and my mind just goes blank. Every single week. Without fail. It occurs to me now that maybe that's God's way of trying to tell me not to try to plan and control everything, because even when my mind goes blank, He always provides the words I need to share. In fact, when I stray from what I originally intended to say, that's when speaking is the easiest. (Exodus 4:12, anyone?) Apart from the total memory loss each week, I don't feel nearly as uncomfortable now as I did when we started. My heart doesn't race like it used to, and I don't have that horrible sense of anxiety about being the center of attention. That's not to say I would do well if you asked me to lead a different group... but I candle handle our own little circle now. And I love our little circle! Along with the small-scale leadership experience, I feel like I've gained some really good friends. I'm so grateful for them, and for the chance to study God's word with them.

Last summer, I wrote about loving others. At the time, I felt like I'd been doing a pretty lousy job of that. I began putting more focus on that, using 1 Corinthians 13:1 as motivation. I mean, if I can carry on a conversation with someone but can't share Christ's love with them, what point is there in being able to talk to them at all? Once I made that my goal, that is when I began making more and more progress—far more progress than I could have ever made on my own. There's this nifty cycle where God gives me confidence, and it's so exciting that I just want to talk to others about the incredible things He does, and when I talk to other people, I gain even more confidence. Like Moses, I'm not exactly eloquent and I'm often slow of speech and tongue, but I'm not afraid anymore. My God is bigger than any fears I could ever have, and spreading His love is too important to hide in a little bitty comfort zone.

I'm constantly amazed at the changes God has made in me. Like the leaves springing up from the heart of a seemingly dead tree, He has gotten rid of the old and brought me new life. I can't wait to see what He has in store for me next.

Confession #57

I am slightly obsessed with crocheting baby hats.

Except you can remove the word "slightly" and come away with an accurate statement. I can't help myself! They're so tiny and cute! Today I finished one which my boyfriend asked me to make for his coworker who just had a little girl. I keep having to tell myself that I have absolutely no reason to make any more right now. But the yarn... It's just sitting there, calling to me...

A couple of thoughts

It's been a while. A long while. I don't like that. A few years ago, not a day went by where I didn't write something. Now I can barely remember the last time I sat down to put my jumble of thoughts into writing. Hrmph. 

Oh well. On to today's musings!

1: After coming to this school with only one friend and hardly any acquaintances, it still catches me off guard when I'm walking to or from class and hear someone say, "Hi, Michelle!" My first thought is always, "Who, me?" However, I like that I actually know enough people to cross paths with someone familiar once in a while.

2: I'm the type of girl who likes to hide quietly in the back of the classroom so as not to be noticed, while wearing bright yellow rainboots bought solely because they stand out.

Learning from little guys

I realize I haven't written in a while but I've definitely had things on my mind. The reason I haven't written is that I have been exhausted. Completely drained physically and mentally. Even dead week and finals week seem appealing compared to this. I have also been keeping very busy, which I suppose doesn't help with the tiredness, but oh well. And when I have had the opportunity to write, I just plain didn't want to. Very strange, that. I almost always want to write. But what I have been meaning to write about is directly related to my job, and I have come to a point where I am ready not to have my job anymore. There have been plenty of days in the past four years where I woke up and thought, Ugh, I don't want to go to work today, but not wanting my job is completely new, and frankly, I don't like it. I love my job. Really, I do. But the class I've had this summer has worn me so thin that I can't stand it any more. Our three oldest are all boys, and each of them is worth about three whole kids in the amount of energy it takes to keep up with them. And by kids I mean two-year-olds. And they don't call 'em the Terrible Twos for nothing. So, yeah... I haven't even wanted to think about work, much less write what I'm about to write. 'Cause I'm stubborn like that.

About a week or two after deciding I needed to write this, I went to dinner with a friend. I can't tell you exactly when that was, but it was probably at least two weeks ago... but don't hold me to that because I honestly don't remember. Anyway, the point is that we went to a Chinese buffet, so naturally there were fortune cookies involved. I don't put a whole lot of stock into fortune cookies because they're nothing more than mass produced phrases that are left intentionally vague so the reader can interpret it in a way that will make it apply to their own life. However, of all the fortunes I have received—and trust me, there have been lots—I do believe two really were meant for me. Of those two, one is the one I received that night with my friend.*

An important word of advice may come from a child.

That, my friends, is precisely what has been on my mind for the past month. I can only conclude that this particular fortune cookie was psychic. Okay not really, but still. I had been digging my heels in against writing this, and then the fortune cookie more or less reached out and slapped me across the face with a cold trout.

My class has kept me in a perpetual state of stress all summer long, wreaking havoc on my mind and body. It's all I can do sometimes not to grab one of them by the shoulders and yell STOP IT! But despite all of that, I honestly believe that toddlers are some of the best people on Earth. Why? Because I think they know what it really is to live life to the fullest, and they love with everything that is in them.

First, a bit on living life to the fullest. In my mind, you don't have to travel to far away places or take on extraordinary tasks like scaling gigantic mountains or jumping out of airplanes to live life to the fullest. I think living life to the fullest requires nothing more than doing what makes you happy, and doing so all the time. As we get older, we develop filters and reservations—or at least most of us do. We learn that society will judge us based on our appearances and our actions. Toddlers are completely unaware of that.

A toddler will never stop to consider their actions. They won't think, “I'm not the most coordinated of the bunch, so maybe I should just sit back and watch the others dance.” It would never cross their mind that they might be thought weird if they get down on their hands and knees and go in circles, scrubbing the top of their head on the floor. When you have the dress-up clothes out, a boy will wear the fluffy tutu and flowered hat if he darn well pleases, regardless of our society's gender guidelines. They do what makes them happy, plain and simple. I don't know about you, but I wish I had that sort of confidence and inhibition. And just as toddlers don't worry about being judged, they won't judge you. It doesn't matter to them if you have a terrible singing voice or if you're having a bad hair day or if your clothes don't fit just right. All they expect of you is your attention and affection. Give them that and they'll be your best friend.

And that brings us to love. The older kids in my class right now can be and generally are very ornery, and a couple of them can be downright mean and hateful at times. However, I have seen our orneriest boy stop screaming mid-tantrum to console a classmate who lost her footing and fell off the window seat.** This little guy, like any and every toddler I've ever met, can be incredibly sweet and tender when he puts his mind to it. When a classmate is upset, it's not at all uncommon for him to gently pat them on the back or wrap his arms around them, and if they're really upset, he'll even kiss them on the shoulder as he hugs them. This compassion is not something toddlers reserve for each other; they offer this love to anyone that takes the time to get to know them. (I supply the qualifier only because at this age, many are also stricken with a major case of Stranger Danger.) If adults cared for everyone the way toddlers do, I think the world would be a much better place.

No matter how much they make me feel like pulling out my hair, I have a lot of respect for toddlers. They're pretty great people, and I could definitely learn a lesson or two from them.

* If you were wondering, the other fortune cookie told me that I have a wonderful way with words and should write a letter to someone.

** Just in case anyone is concerned, the window seat in our classroom is not high enough to pose an actual safety risk, but it is high enough to scare the little ones if they fall. Nothing that can't be taken care of with a hug though!

If you felt a sudden jolt, don't be alarmed; that was just my paradigm shifting.

Firstly, I've been meaning to write for over a month now but between working and being tired from work and suffering from a very unusual case of writer's block, I haven't been able to come up with anything worthwhile. However, my head is in a much better place than it was when I wrote my last post. I'm just going to call that a moment of panic brought on by my having too much time to think. I'm back at work now, getting out of the house and spending time around people every day, and it's all good. Gotta work harder at not letting the worrying fester.

Now, on with the show.

I've been thinking a lot about love the past couple of weeks. Not of the romantic variety, or in the “I don't always like you but we're related so I have no choice but to care about you” sort of way, but the kind of love God calls us to show one another. I've always tried to be a nice person in that I aim to be polite and respectful and treat others as I'd like to be treated, but I don't think simply being “nice” equates to showing love.

My mom and sister and I have been visiting a church for the past few months. They recently had a revival, which is what spurred me to write this. The topic of discussion one evening was found in 1 Peter 4.

⁷The end of all things is near. Therefore be alert and sober of mind so that you may pray. ⁸Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. ⁹Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. ¹⁰Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God's grace in its various forms. ¹¹If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.

The speaker mainly concentrated on verses 9 and 10, expanding on hospitality and service. He noted how everyone seems to be caught up in their own little world these days, too busy to care about fellowship and giving to those less fortunate. A good message, to be sure, and I did pause to think about what I have and haven't done and what I could do in the future, but that isn't what got to me. Though I was already familiar with the passage, I had never read it in the particular mindset I was in that night, so while the speaker carried on with something about a big bowl of tuna fish and dragging people home with you for lunch after church, my brain was stuck on verse 8.

Love each other deeply.

That phrase was still going around in my mind the next evening when he spoke on 1 John 4:10-12.

¹⁰This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. ¹¹Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. ¹²No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.

There it is again. Love one another.

“One another” does not mean your family and your friends, or even all the people you know. Those two little words encompass every single person on earth. That's a whole lot of love we ought to be giving out. And this is the bit that really got me: How can I show love to someone if I can't even approach them and say hello? How can I love anyone if I hide from everyone?

In the past I have thought that, in sticking to myself, I was depriving myself of the opportunity to know others. It never occurred to me that I was denying others love. Now this new perspective is just further motivation to change my ways.