much too much

i don't get stressed out very easily or very often for that matter. school doesn't stress me out because i've learned not to stress out about grades -- although i should note that i no longer resent tests and my nerdiness has ballooned to such mind boggling proportions that i've actually started to enjoy tests. i know. frightening. i've learned not to let my friends stress me out because love is patient and i can't claim to love my friends if i'm not willing to be patient; this of course is mostly theoretical and it does take a good deal of effort to put into practice -- not because my friends aren't lovable but because i have a tendency to be a heinous biznatch [on the inside, at least]. my work has always been super fun and life-giving and though busy, mostly manageable. and my family, while not free of the requisite dramz, is for the most part the source of my deepest joy and fulfillment.

but these past few weeks... oi. these past few weeks have been a rough go. i have been hit from every angle and with full force. for the first time in a long time, i've felt genuinely and overwhelmingly stressed the eff out. yesterday, my pastor asked me a pretty innocuous question ["how are you?"] and i responded by bursting into tears. yeah. intense. i'd love to report that things are going to calm down and i'm going to spend the next few days and weeks chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool and all... well, i would never shoot basketball in or out of school [i'm not that coordinated] but i digress. the point is, things aren't exactly going to slow down anytime soon and to be honest, the prospect of even another hour of busyness like this makes me wanna shave off an eyebrow -- which is truly indicative of the severity of my anxiety since my grandma gave me some fantastic eyebrows and i'd have to be nutzo to wanna shave one of these babies off.

were the sneaker on the other toesy, i'd give a girl like me the advice i've doled out to countless friends and unwilling audiences alike, gems of wisdom accumulated over many, many years of Sunday school: if the weight is too much to bear, it's probably not yours to bear [Matthew 11:28]; anxiety is unproductive [Philippians 4:6]; God's strength isn't made perfect in your strength, it's perfected in your weakness [2 Corinthians 12:9]; and so on and so forth forever and ever amen. but the thing is, i'm fantastic at dispensing advice [whether it's asked for or not] but i have a hard time following advice, even when it's my own and thus i've been mostly freaking out and spontaneously crying and not so much casting my cares on Jesus, praying, and owning up to my vulnerability [save for those instances when my vulnerability manifests itself involuntarily and with copious outpourings of snot to boot].

but tonight in staff meeting the pastors graciously recommended that i take some time to do what i have to do to take care of myself and care for my soul. and since i don't find any comfort in the kinds of outlets most normal people do [i personally believe that my brain is wired in such a fashion that working out sucks up endorphins rather than releasing them] i am here doing the one thing that i know how to do, the one way that i know how to care for my soul: i'm writing about it. sure, i worry that it's a bit self-indulgent and super post-modern of me to wax poetic about the dreariness of my middle-class existence. in fact, in my preparations for my show last week, i discovered that when i write songs, i mostly write about times i'm frustrated or my feelings are hurt and as a result, about seven-eights of my songs are embarrassingly gross and emo [as are many of these blog entries] but despite my hipster shame [which, by the by, i've recently conceded to the idea that i might be a hipster since i get so offended when people call me one] where was i? oh yes... the thing is, this method seems to be working for me because in my normal day to day life [with the exception of these past couple weeks perhaps], i'm a pretty happy, amicable human being.

so pardon my emo, excuse my whining and if you can stomach my boo-hooing i commend and appreciate you. for whatever reason, this is my process and ya know what? i feel better already.