This morning while on the phone with someone, something clicked, and no it wasn't the sound of me hanging up. I was up very early, it was 9am. Granted I had not been to bed the night before but I had a chance to lay back and have one of my "Courtney Panic Attacks". Those happen, when I can't control the amount of things racing through my mind.
The reason for the call, or who it was with isn't important but it got me thinking. Why does this suck?
This week I had a terrible time coming up withing something to blog about. I felt that my updates were monotonous and had an air of "been there done that." I have things I want to write about in the future but I'm not quite there yet either. My motivation is wearing, this week wore me down.
When I'm at my best, I'm the most motivated person I know. I will work two jobs, intern, take on extra responsibilities. I attribute it to never wanting to be bored, but when I sat back and analyzed it, I had a different perspective.
Maybe its me not, not wanting to be bored but that feeling of I have a lot of catching up to do. I'm afraid of missing out on something.
My first diagnosis and treatment put me a year behind where I should have been in high school, which is why I graduated in 07 instead of 06. This never bothered me because I thought it was such a privilege to get to stay at Lakefield another year. Plus I had some pretty awesome friends in both grades, so it didn't bother me all that much.
I only graduated from LCS because I had to work my tail off till the final hours. Legit, it came down to hours whether or not I would finish high school in time to get to college. Everyone assumed I had graduated at my graduation, but my diploma was actually a piece of paper reminding me I had two credits to finish. The school let me walk, because they knew I would eventually finish. They didn't want to let me miss out on yet another thing, especially something as important as graduating. I worked my tush off that summer and nailed those two credits, with in hours of the Queen's submission deadline.
I LOVED Queens. I never doubted for a second I made the right choice. My first year was awesome but I was kind of a social recluse. I did great at school, but I chose to get an apartment off campus as opposed to living in residence. I knew my body and immune system couldn't handle the late party nights and dorm-esq living conditions. I was ok with that though, I would come home every night to my puppy Roxy, and do school work. It was conducive to good grades but not so much a social life. It was quiet and perfect for what I needed. Just as I was getting my footing socially, a week before exams, I relapsed.
I didn't end up graduating because when I went back to Queens after treatment, I had a lot to make up for. I was volunteering with the Make a Wish foundation. Working as many hours as they would let me at the bar. I volunteered with disability services. One would clearly say I was overcompensating. I loved my job, I loved my friends, I loved my extra-curriculars. I also passionately loved my classes, I just didn't have the time to focus on the work for them, or should I say make the time. Anytime I had left over, was for recovery. My immune system was still rebuilding its self. I slept, a lot. I got sick all the time, and my health was just not cooperative. However I was cancer free, so I had no complaints.
If I let something slack, I would be letting someone else down, i.e. make a wish, but if I let my own studies slip, the only person I was letting down was my self. I was always putting others first, and I still don't regret that. My priorities were not balanced but I finally had some fun too. I accomplished a TON. It was also a good learning point, because I got to see how badly the chemo affected my brain. My memory was gone. Bartending was easy, I memorized where the bottles were, knew which colors made which shots and it was my favorite thing to do because I didn't have to think about it. As soon as I tried to put the effort into my school work, my brain rebelled against me. I would have to reread notes hundreds of times just to remember a simple concept because I couldn't remember anything. I would read a page in a book, go to flip the page, and realize I didn't remember a thing I had just read. Chemo brain made me feel like the biggest idiot alive. Class was great because I enjoyed the lectures and material but taking notes was difficult because my mind couldn't handle the task of listening, writing, and absorbing. I would get so stressed out, I would either just sit there and listen and do the best I could or avoid it all together because I knew how stressed out I would become by feeling like a failure... at note taking. I eventually realized that I needed to take a break from higher education which was why I left Queens. My brain could not handle not dedicating 100% to school. I'm not in the situation where all I had to do was focus on school, I had to work, so I knew I needed to step back from the situation.
I hate that I didn't finish my degree, but I know that if I really want it someday, I can always go back. I'm stoked about the prospect of event planning. I am OCD because I've learned how my brain works. I need structure and organization and the little details are what makes remembering the bigger picture easier for me. I'm constantly writing everything down, I have lists and note pads galore. All qualities that go into planning an event. The education for it is online, work at your own pace, perfect for me. I'm excited to get into this field and can't wait to just get started.
However
When I'm laying in bed for a week, tired, nauseous, sore, my motivations weans. Couple that with homesickness and all I want to do is escape. That is where I am right now. I'm in my "need an escape phase". My panic attacks are back and I get overwhelmed at the most miniscule of things. My best friend K keeps reminding me (among other people)
"You need to just focus on your health!"
But by focusing on my health, I feel like I'm losing my future yet again. A girl with big dreams to plan huge beautiful events, in different cities and to travel and motivate is being reduced to a girl who wants to hide in her bed. I have difficulty waking up and blogging. In fact, I have difficulty getting out of bed. Its my cocoon. When people ask me to do something, it feels like the BIGGEST task in the world. They say if you want to get something done, give it to the busiest person, well I get that, because I can't get anything done. I can feel myself slipping away and there's nothing I can do about it.
I find my self losing myself day by day. I'm the most self assured person I know, and know this is a phase but fear the outcome. Its so hard to recover from an experience like this, and I know this having gone through it three times already. Every time I start to get ahead and actually put some savings in the bank, they're gone, because I'm sick and have to use them up. Once I feel like I'm getting caught up on my student loans, suddenly I'm behind again. My poor car is dying a slow death, because I keep telling myself, deal with your loans, and your bills and soon enough you'll be able to invest in a new one. But that time just gets put off again and again because my health wont cooperate. I get started at an awesome job, working my way up, and boom I have to take a break. I get a sweet job interview, sorry can't go. Meet an amazing guy, WHOOPS can't see you anymore. When will I have my time, to be on a similar level with people my age. They've all graduated and some are getting married and having kids. I'm not even asking for that, I'm just asking for my chance to work towards my future at my life so I can start living my life. At this rate I'm going to be too selfish to adopt children, because I wont have lived my life, experienced my life enough to give them the lives they deserve selflessly.
I picked a career that I can completely dive into, because I know my work is going to be my life. I don't want to have to feel like I'm wasting anymore time to try and get somewhere that I'll enjoy, I want the journey to get there to be just as enjoyable.
I have friends that are literally keeping me alive. I have parents who thank god are taking care of me, because right now I can't take care of myself. I know how lucky I am.
Why does life keep teasing me? Lets me get so close to starting to achieve my dreams and goals and just as I'm about to taste them, pulls them right from under me like some joke.
I'm homesick. I miss my friends, my work, my fam. Mostly I miss my independence. I miss being in control of my life. No wonder I'm an OCD control freak, because I rarely have control in my life, that when I do, I cling to it like no other. Just ask the girls at work about the spoons. (I really do apologize girls, but my logic does make sense ;)
Regardless, I know I will get back to the road that will lead me to becoming the person I want to be. I clearly should never be trusted with the directions because I've taken more detours than a dyslexic cabbie.
