A Return to Xanga

Why is it that during times or distress, I often turn back to Xanga? So. I have been living the life of a woman with a bachelors in English writing. I've been freelance writing for a local magazine and for a university publication. I did freelance photography for some time, and this past February I obtained my very first real full-time job. I work at a non-profit organization doing enviably good work for the community. This past week has been especially stressful with all sorts of last minute deadlines, and after a day full of interviewing and talking with people, switching back and forth between writing for marketing materials, writing for an informative publication, and writing for an entertainment publication, my mind is on overdrive. I have spent way too much of my day trying to formulate my thoughts. I feel as if I don't know how to relax for the last hour of my day. Should I clean up my mess of a home? Should I read? Call a friend? Sleep? Work more? I'm so anxious.

I have so much due in the next few weeks that it is overwhelming. Tomorrow I complete an entire publication for my current job, but next week I must continue spending my days working on an extensive list and fact-checking it for this publication. I feel sick just thinking about all the details I must force myself to check, all the monotony.

On my lunch break and when I get home, I must work on my freelance work...contacting people, interviewing them and compiling that information into a written product.

I think moments of stopping, like right now, make me feel so isolated. I have been going and going non-stop for some time now, and I feel at a loss when I stop.

Everything is going to get done.

On top of the work. I have two graduations to attend, too many birthdays that I have missed presents for, a house to clean, a budget to organize, and other personal care that I can't even begin to consider. Help!

If you see me, understand when I act as a shadow of myself gliding through the appointments of my day...if you really want to see and talk to me...call me in June.

So. Xanga. I've been gone a while. And maybe your appeal now is that you are a comfortable void to send my thoughts out to, while knowing that probably no one reads Xanga anymore.

I've been writing or gathering information for obituaries for the past weeks. It's not an easy job. I think it's put a cloud over my heart.

Hello. I graduated. I have been pity-partying lately. While many of my friends have been so kind and assuring to me, one specifically told me to stop being afraid. He said that he saw me accomplish so much in the past months, and the only time he saw me falter were times that I was not confident in myself. Big sigh. I am going to get some good sleep tonight, wake up early, go for a run, get my oil changed, hair cut, and then I am making life choices. I am going to be brave. There is a quote that came to my mind when he said that:

What I’m certain I don’t want is to find myself someday in a new century, an old bitter woman looking back wishing that right now I’d had more nerve.
–Cold Mountain

And I am certain, beyond every shadow of a doubt that I want to be brave and live with nerve. I am going to make the biggest dreams I can think of and then live them. Whatever makes my heart feel light and alive-  I am going to chase those dreams with every bit of my soul. I'm not afraid to fail, or look stupid, or be lauged at. I am afraid of not trying and regretting it. I am going to try. At present moment, I am not quite sure what I am going to try, but I am going to make a list tomorrow. And I have some ideas already. I'm going to be brave. Nothing makes my heart feel more empowered than the thought of being brave.

Pray for me. Pray really hard. and thank you for believing in me. I'm ready to believe in me again too.