Of Wind and Weather and Moods to Measure
It's raining again. I can hear it hitting the window when the wind blows strongly.
Yesterday was difficult. I didn't go to my classes even though I really wanted to. So much was going on, but I couldn't bring myself to go. I e-mailed my professors with words of being ill and unable to come to class. I felt so cold yesterday morning that I felt I must have a fever even if my head did not feel that warm to me. I slept 'til noon underneath layers of blankets. I didn't fight my mood. I didn't think about why I felt so detached and emotionless. Around two o'clock, after writing how I felt and summarizing the dream I had, I resolved to fight off the daemon. I pushed, cried, demanded, visualized the negative thoughts, feelings, and uncaring nonchalantness from my body. I told it I never wanted it to come back, I wanted it to leave, I wanted to be happy, I wanted to be proud of my work and have others proud of my work, I wanted to get my work done, I told it to get out. Then I wiped my eyes, rubbed the snot off my pillow and blew my nose.
I finished BELOVED and got ready for work. Work went well enough. I talked, laughed a little, and was cheered by Ben's attempt to fool me with a prank telephone call. After work, I told him about my day, leaving little out, and he seemed much subdued. It's always difficult to tell someone, who I want to like me, about the negative aspects of my mind and body. I know it's important to not keep such things hidden, but my fear is that of rejection, someone who doesn't want to deal with my problems. A person unwilling to reach their hand through such a terrifying deep well of painful substance to grasp my hand and pull me upwards. He asked me how often I felt like I did yesterday. I said there were varying degrees. Some days I was better at fighting it. I said maybe once a week if that. Had it been more.... I wanted to ask if it was okay, if it was okay that I am me. Instead I changed the subject.
Today I feel well, despite the wind that almost ate me as I rode to work. It wasn't so much strong as it was loud. the wind through the trees sounded like a beast. One that had been hunting, waiting...for just the right moment. It was very eerie. It made me think of the times I walked around Washburn alone. I was usually afraid on those nights.
I have two classes today and they should go well enough. Then I'm done by 1:00 at the latest and I can focus on homework. We'll see how much I can get done so that I have the weekend free to spend with Ben, if he still wants to see me. Otherwise I'll work on Wildfell Hall. I cut out the windows of the back wall last night and fixed the gable. Soon I'll need celephane and spray paint. I also need to watch Beloved and write a compare contrast paper about the book and movie. Though I enjoyed the book and it was rich with imagery, I still abhore writing analytical papers.
Yesterday was difficult. I didn't go to my classes even though I really wanted to. So much was going on, but I couldn't bring myself to go. I e-mailed my professors with words of being ill and unable to come to class. I felt so cold yesterday morning that I felt I must have a fever even if my head did not feel that warm to me. I slept 'til noon underneath layers of blankets. I didn't fight my mood. I didn't think about why I felt so detached and emotionless. Around two o'clock, after writing how I felt and summarizing the dream I had, I resolved to fight off the daemon. I pushed, cried, demanded, visualized the negative thoughts, feelings, and uncaring nonchalantness from my body. I told it I never wanted it to come back, I wanted it to leave, I wanted to be happy, I wanted to be proud of my work and have others proud of my work, I wanted to get my work done, I told it to get out. Then I wiped my eyes, rubbed the snot off my pillow and blew my nose.
I finished BELOVED and got ready for work. Work went well enough. I talked, laughed a little, and was cheered by Ben's attempt to fool me with a prank telephone call. After work, I told him about my day, leaving little out, and he seemed much subdued. It's always difficult to tell someone, who I want to like me, about the negative aspects of my mind and body. I know it's important to not keep such things hidden, but my fear is that of rejection, someone who doesn't want to deal with my problems. A person unwilling to reach their hand through such a terrifying deep well of painful substance to grasp my hand and pull me upwards. He asked me how often I felt like I did yesterday. I said there were varying degrees. Some days I was better at fighting it. I said maybe once a week if that. Had it been more.... I wanted to ask if it was okay, if it was okay that I am me. Instead I changed the subject.
Today I feel well, despite the wind that almost ate me as I rode to work. It wasn't so much strong as it was loud. the wind through the trees sounded like a beast. One that had been hunting, waiting...for just the right moment. It was very eerie. It made me think of the times I walked around Washburn alone. I was usually afraid on those nights.
I have two classes today and they should go well enough. Then I'm done by 1:00 at the latest and I can focus on homework. We'll see how much I can get done so that I have the weekend free to spend with Ben, if he still wants to see me. Otherwise I'll work on Wildfell Hall. I cut out the windows of the back wall last night and fixed the gable. Soon I'll need celephane and spray paint. I also need to watch Beloved and write a compare contrast paper about the book and movie. Though I enjoyed the book and it was rich with imagery, I still abhore writing analytical papers.