7:11 pm Pacific Time. 2nd floor Stanford Law Library. 3rd row carrel.
It’s packed in here. Exams start tomorrow. I’ve been here since 1:30, taking a 4 hour practice exam. It was hard – the first question said it would only take 60 minutes, but it took me 90. That was evil. Stressful. I’m done. No more. I know what I know.
Two weeks ago I told you I was going to try to kill my superwoman. I don’t know how I did because the time has just moved so fast that two weeks ago already feels like tomorrow. It’s finals time. Finals suck.
Did I offend you with that post? I worry that I did but I hope I didn’t. I really wasn’t trying to say how great I was, although I suppose it came off that way. We all fall down. I’m really trying to become “thoroughly unimpressed with myself.” Seriously. Nothing I do or am is because of anything I’ve done…I know that. I was more trying to make a point about how not loving me, taking care of me, cherishing me, simply being….me is killing me as I love, care, cherish everyone else because I wanted to impress you. You the world. How foolish of me.
Do you get it? I shouldn’t care, but I do.
Friday at church a woman had a CD release concert. She has a voice of an (alto) angel. I cried so hard that night. I laid it all out on that altar. I just fell on my knees and bowed my head and surrendered. All I have, everything I am, I laid it down. It felt like hours, but was only minutes, but I prayed for God’s will. And I prayed that his will not be my current circumstances. I killed my superwoman, but I haven’t replaced her with anything yet. I’m waiting, cause I don’t want just any ole body to show up, a lesser version of her, a mini-me.
I’m surrendered. I’m waiting for the Spirit to replace that Superwoman with an anointed version, an upgrade, LaToya 2.0. And while religion may be the opiate of the masses and was used to enslave my ancestors, I’m not trying to be trite when I say I don’t care. I do, because I’m there, I’m suffering, and I’m holding on to it so that I don’t fall. And I’m broken, in a million little pieces, but I’m here.
I can understand. I can understand when it feels like you have nothing left to live for how that praise song gets in you and holds you up just until you regain your strength to make it through the day. I can understand how just repeating the mantra of “Jesus” can get you up in the morning, into the shower, on with your clothes and able to face the day with a strength you feel in your bones is not your own and you are so thankful for it. I can understand being afraid of what’s before you and not knowing what’s going to happen but being comforted by the feeling that the Spirit has your back so worry can take a back seat. I know.
For the first time in my life, I’ve gone a year without a major depressive episode. Some anxiety, but that’s under control. A door closed, gently, cautiously. But now I’m having trouble eating. One door closes, another opens. I had pink eye and my eye hurts. One door closes, another opens. One of my best friends is graduating and leaving. Open. Family is coming for the holidays. Open. My dissertation proposal needs to be defended. Open. I’m interviewing for an internship. Open. I need to register for kindergarten. Open. I want to start them in gymnastics. Open. They need to go to the dentist. Open. So many open doors that I want to slam shut.
Deep breath returns me back to here and now. Leaving here now, I need to go to the supermarket. Hubby didn’t buy anything to drink when he went to the market earlier, and I’m growing kefir grains that need milk. Have a blessed week.