Week II
Second day of the second week, the pain was really bad today. I only had two classes, I didn't have to go to school until eleven, I got nye on twelve hours of sleep last night. But none of that seemed to make a difference. I spent the day in dark goggles and my beautiful new 92% noise-canceling headphones. I can't take the headphones off at school anymore- it's a painful shock when I realize how much noise the air conditioning alone makes. I guess I'll just live in them.
School's great- I have a perfect schedule. No first or second, then AP Gov. third with Recktenwald, who is loads of fun. Then brunch, then fourth is AP Lit with Javier, who is adorable and so very flamboyant that it's impossible not to enjoy every class. Then Jazz, where I'm in top combo with five awesome dudes and thoroughly enjoy myself and we play beautiful music. Then lunch. Then sixth period is AP Bio with Tsai who is now Mrs. Chow, as she married Brian Chow the art teacher (Awww...) and who is about the sweetest thing I've ever met. then I go home. There's no class I don't enjoy, no class that feels the need to assign consistent homework. And even when there is homework, it's always reading and writing (and playing flute), which are some of my favorite things anyway.
So why the long face, Ms. Oldfield?
Well, I do find that constant pain can really take the bounce out of my step. What if today's only-just-bearable-migraine was cumulative? If that's the result of only two weeks and a long weekend, then I'm fucked. It's not even two weeks- today made seven days. I have to start worrying about college apps um... yesterday, and I still haven't finished Possession, which is wonderful but oh-so-long and I am very good at pretending to have read it.
What if it's too much? What if after all this, and giving up everything, I still can't do it? What if I'm just not capable?
The Call-Backs list for The Crucible went up today, I only knew the auditions had even happened because I happened to see the sheet stapled to the drama board when I was checking if the Box was open. I feel like I live in a different world than I used to. I'm disconnected from all those things that were everything I cared about, everything I had worked for. It's so hard to explain to people why I'm not in drama anymore. Actually it's easy, I say something like "yeah, I had to quite because of the migraines." I'm so resigned and it's so rehearsed that there's no trace of emotion, even I don't feel the pain when I say it. It hurt so much to accept that, it was so heart-wrenching that if I stopped to really think about how I feel about it, I'd start to cry, cry like i'm crying now. So I don't think, I just speak and turn away, like i don't even care, like it means nothing to me. I hate myself when I cry in public. I hate how easily I cry. but constant pain creates a vast back-loge of tears, and once they are so much as tapped, a great gush loosens itself from my vast reservoir of sorrow.
Story of my life: everything would be perfect, except that everything is hell.
Therapy tomorrow, with Dr. Kogon, my delightful if slightly insane relaxation therapist.
School's great- I have a perfect schedule. No first or second, then AP Gov. third with Recktenwald, who is loads of fun. Then brunch, then fourth is AP Lit with Javier, who is adorable and so very flamboyant that it's impossible not to enjoy every class. Then Jazz, where I'm in top combo with five awesome dudes and thoroughly enjoy myself and we play beautiful music. Then lunch. Then sixth period is AP Bio with Tsai who is now Mrs. Chow, as she married Brian Chow the art teacher (Awww...) and who is about the sweetest thing I've ever met. then I go home. There's no class I don't enjoy, no class that feels the need to assign consistent homework. And even when there is homework, it's always reading and writing (and playing flute), which are some of my favorite things anyway.
So why the long face, Ms. Oldfield?
Well, I do find that constant pain can really take the bounce out of my step. What if today's only-just-bearable-migraine was cumulative? If that's the result of only two weeks and a long weekend, then I'm fucked. It's not even two weeks- today made seven days. I have to start worrying about college apps um... yesterday, and I still haven't finished Possession, which is wonderful but oh-so-long and I am very good at pretending to have read it.
What if it's too much? What if after all this, and giving up everything, I still can't do it? What if I'm just not capable?
The Call-Backs list for The Crucible went up today, I only knew the auditions had even happened because I happened to see the sheet stapled to the drama board when I was checking if the Box was open. I feel like I live in a different world than I used to. I'm disconnected from all those things that were everything I cared about, everything I had worked for. It's so hard to explain to people why I'm not in drama anymore. Actually it's easy, I say something like "yeah, I had to quite because of the migraines." I'm so resigned and it's so rehearsed that there's no trace of emotion, even I don't feel the pain when I say it. It hurt so much to accept that, it was so heart-wrenching that if I stopped to really think about how I feel about it, I'd start to cry, cry like i'm crying now. So I don't think, I just speak and turn away, like i don't even care, like it means nothing to me. I hate myself when I cry in public. I hate how easily I cry. but constant pain creates a vast back-loge of tears, and once they are so much as tapped, a great gush loosens itself from my vast reservoir of sorrow.
Story of my life: everything would be perfect, except that everything is hell.
Therapy tomorrow, with Dr. Kogon, my delightful if slightly insane relaxation therapist.