krm: (Love Sucks)
Graduation is less than a month away. Today I completed my 55th day out of 70 (or 73, depending on your count) required days for student teaching. I clearly recall the times of my high school and associate graduation. Lots of nightmares, stress, and anxiety. Especially the nightmares, all surprisingly graduation related. 

Surprisingly, I've not felt the same for this graduation. Although, I HAVE actually lost the box containing my cap, gown, and tassel. Stupid Kelly, always losing things. Graduation doesn't bother me this time. It's the working through this internship which is so agonizing. Not that I don't love what I'm doing, because I do. I love my students, and I love my teacher and the work. It's just... it swallows all of your time and energy.

And I have a job interview tomorrow. I'm pretty worked up about that too. Namely, getting lost on the drive over.

But I guess what bothers me the most out of all of this culmination is the signal of change. I hate change; I resent it deeply to my core. Not because I can't adapt, but because it places me outside of my comfort zone, an environment I've already mastered. I don't like feeling I'm inexperienced or unprepared for something. I like knowing what to expect. I guess that makes me a creature of routine. Although I'm terrible at actually being punctual or organized.

And the expectation. So many people expect me to leave my part time job so quickly. Move on to bigger and better things. Which is fine. But, I actually like my job. Of course I'd like to utilize my college degree, but I am not so anxious to leave as everyone around me is. I like the people I work with, some of them at least. I am not so eager to leave them.

So much turmoil in my life. I know I've referenced that in other entries, and that I've been vague about it. It still lingers, in different facets in my life, and I've not yet confront it. Though, with each passing day, the picture is getting clearer and clearer. The right path. I think I know what to do, but I lack the courage, I suppose.

So there's my semi-monthly dose of anxiety and ambiguity.

krm: (Sher-locked)
 So I had an anxiety attack last night. I didn't tell anyone, even though the physical signs were obvious. (Someone remarked how my face looked like I had been in the sun. At 9:30 at night? No, that's just my ruddy face that betrays any upset emotion). People don't understand. And I hate to awkwardly burden them.

Today marks a week I've been student teaching. But today was my first day to stand in front of the class as a teacher to teach things. I'm just doing bellwork this week. But still, pretty nerve wracking.  I was all up in my feels last night, feeling all sorts of inadequacy and unpreparedness. And then, halfway into my long-ish commute (40 minutes, if traffic is in my favor), I realized I forgot my lunchbox. So then the remaining commute was spent in complete self-loathing, dread, misery, and prepping myself for the migraine that would come later today. (If I don't eat, I get migraines. I get migraines other ways too, but that's the sure-fire way to get one). Because, despite getting paid from the Part Time on Thursday, I was dead broke and couldn't even afford the $3+ school lunch.

The hunger pains started after lunch time. I managed to stave the majority of it off by lots of water and a pack of crackers that were so happenstance in mai backpack. The migraine was onset by the time I had gotten home.

Surprisingly, I believe I did better with my Public Speaking class than my English 10 Pre AP class. I felt shaky and stupid. I knew what I was doing but when kids started asking me questions, I choked up and did a terrible job of explaining basic fraggin grammar rules. But I followed my mentor teacher's routines and survived. I love my mentor teacher. She is so considerate and accomodating and gentle. I really needed someone gentle. I asked her how I did, and I'm sure it was pretty obvious in my voice and body language that I was damn nervous about it. She was gentle. She suggested for me to be louder and more assertive. She was so nice about it. I really appreciate it. When my nerves take over, that's really better for me. Taking something gentle rather than coarse.

What else? What else?

This day has not been great. Not because of bad things (other than the anxiety attack and lunchbox fiasco, one of my 10th grade vocabulary words). Just with how I am feeling. But now I feel a lot more... *pepped* up after discovering my first unsolicited review for Prince of the Vale. She gave it four out of five stars, and she's all the way from South Africa. Pretty durn cool. It helps me to rediscover my passion for writing. I hope to have my next book out soon, but it's hard to say with my internship.
krm: (Damn Them)
I got a new laptop. It's bigger, nicer. Probably. Syncing everything with my Google account was easy peasy. Downloading+installing Microsoft Office is friggen headache inducing. C'mon Cortana. Windows 10 and shit.

I'm doing a lot of working, but it doesn't seem to actually accomplish anything. It's hot, and I hate the heat.  And I just want to complain about every minute problem I'm experiencing. But this isn't a narcissistic cry for help. I need to do something, push myself outta this depression. Positive, proactive. Writing, blogging. That's doing something. I did le 'official' blog on the le official website, and so I decided I needed the informal supplement. The Dreamwidth, the personal-ish blog.

On a more personal note of mai personal feelings. I'm feeling a lot of turmoil inside. And I don't know why. Well, I know why. But it's largely all secretive. Personal. Nothing to establish me as severely unstable. I'm just feeling a crossroads before me, murky water one way and wild brush the other. Look, I'm being enigmatic and metaphorical.  I think that makes me hypocritical, because I can't stand people who do that.

So much anxiety. So much uncertainty. So much dread. I'm tired of twisting myself. I don't know who I am.
krm: (Damn Them)
 I am weary.  And I have nothing better to say other than that.  

My mom placed an old box on my bed, filled with various possessions of mine that I had forgotten about.  She told me to go through it and whatever was left was to be thrown away.

To my surprise I found quite a collection of old journals I had kept through middle school up until the first two years of high school.  I read through them and have come to a general conclusion.

While my perception of the world and self-awareness has changed (grown, hopefully), at my core, I remain the same.  I am miserable, and often so, and I mostly seek a light to the darkness. Coping mechanisms, masking techniques have developed.  While my outlook on life does not remain as innocently optimistic and hopeful, I do maintain a resolute faith in myself and my abilities.  Where once I would dismiss my sharp intellect with a naivety in a struggle to be accepted, I now embrace it with fierceness.  My passions have not much changed.  They still bring me joy.  I take comfort to know I am not fickle in such areas.  But I still harbor a pit, a black hole inside of me.  And as I grow in life, it grows in me.   There is no sating it.  There is temporarily ignoring it.

But I'm steering my personal goals toward a path that emphasizes what makes me happy, as opposed what can I do in this world.  There is only so much to do this world.  Be kind.  Be happy.


krm: (Default)

April 2017

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