Last Week #29 | Italics Fran is an A**hole

 I am drained. I haven’t had a second to check in with myself since I moved in to my new place. Well, maybe that’s not true. I have, but I haven’t been able to do anything about it. So it looks something like this, 

“Check in: Fran to Fran. Yes, Fran here, we are running at about 15%. Thrusters in critical condition. Pilot recommends rest and reading. And maybe a bath bomb.” 
Fran to Fran. Fran here, yeah, we can’t do that. You’re just gonna have to work with what you got.” 
Fran to Fran. Fran here, that’s bullshit. We’re at 7% now. We can’t hold on much longer.” 
Fran to Fran. I have to go to work. You’re on your own. Bye.”

And now I’m at about 5%, I have no idea how to get it back up to working condition, and it just keeps getting worse. As you can see, italics Fran is a total asshole, and doesn't care about what bold Fran needs. Italics Fran is my brain with anxiety. She's very difficult to shut up. So in a nutshell, here's what happened this past week. 

1. I didn't write a blog post. It was a hard choice, but I ultimately decided I had too much going on in my brain to form into words that made sense. 
2. I had a bit of a meltdown and didn't recognize myself in the mirror. That was scary. Then I watched Gilmore Girls and tried to be okay. I wasn't.
3. I had another meltdown when trying to tell Eli about the first meltdown. I.e.: I cried a lot, he told me he thinks I need a break, and then he made me chicken. 
4. Bold Fran tried really hard to convince italics Fran that taking breaks would be okay, and not result in failing classes and losing her job. Italics Fran wasn't convinced.
5. I went to therapy on Friday night, and my therapist told me the exact same thing. In fact, he told me that taking breaks was part of it. That I'd be more productive if I slowed down. That was news to me, but then I tried it. And it went well?

I'm not going to be perfect, or even good at it right away. But I'll tell you something: this weekend I did a lot of relaxing, a lot of cuddling, and a lot of TV/movie watching. I also finished an entire graphic novel (the first book I've finished all month!) and completed a drawing for one of my classes. I'm trying to convince myself that slowing down will actually work, and will actually allow me to accomplish more. Even though the evidence is there, and even though I've read it about a million times in blog posts and self-help books, it's really hard to do. I have this thing where I want to be really good at everything I do. Otherwise, what is the point in doing it?! I'm convinced that if I'm not good at everything I do, and I don't do everything I could possibly be good at, I'm a failure. Because that's giving up, right? Listen, I'm writing this post and I'm asking all these questions like this is going to have a resolution at the end. The truth is, I don't know the answers. All I know is, Eli and my therapist and my mentor and probably loads of other people have told me that's not true. So I'm going to try to do another thing that my therapist recommended and trust them

I'm sad because this means I probably won't do NaNoWriMo this year.  Something I've participated in every year since I was a senior in high school. (Or at least not to the extent that I have in the past.) I'm sad because this means I might take a break from school. And by that I literally mean, one semester off. Or one less class. And sure, that means I might get my degree one semester later. But at this point, who the f*ck cares?! At the end of the day, I logically know that life isn't a race. But this anxiety that has been ingrained in me says differently. And it's really hard sometimes to fight it, and ignore the person in your head telling you you aren't moving fast enough. I literally do not have a pretty, soothing conclusion for this. All I can say is, I am happy. When I allow myself to slow down, I love so many things about my life. I love my apartment. I love my boyfriend. I love my friends, and how they continuously inspire me and thrill me. I love my creativity. I love my commute. I love my coworkers. I really like a lot of things about this new job. (We aren't at love yet. I don't want to move too fast.) I love the lazy Sundays I'm so privileged to have now. Right now, in this season of stress and excitement, I'm simply trying to keep the love at the forefront of my mind, and not the anxiety.