Exposing My Roots


As I grow nearer to my “senior year” of college, I find myself wanting the world to slow its spinning. My brain can barely keep up. In recent months, happiness blooms one day and sadness consumes me as soon as the next. Emotions are running rampant to say the least.

Last Tuesday began an eight-day vacation from work. Why eight days? Long story short: planning a vacation a month or two in advance is not all daisies and sugar dust. Even without a trip to the beach or mountaintops, I decided to keep the eight days for relaxation.

Outburst #1 – On Wednesday my car took three turns of the key to ignite the engine. On Thursday it took a few more. Thursday, the day I was prepared to take an hour-long drive to visit my sister. Naturally the panic set in. My one “vacation” was all of a sudden ruined. I cried in the shower. I concealed my tears with make up and got my car to the nearest shop. Nothing is wrong, the man said, maybe it’s the starter. Fantastic. My parents did their best to help. Within an hour my car was being looked over. I had to replace the battery, and my trip was underway.

The mini-vacay was helpful in calming my anxiety.

Outburst #2– On Sunday, my first day back at home, I noticed a wound on our fourteen year old cat. Wonderful. My sister, luckily, was in town on Monday, and assisted in taking the cat to the vet. Everything was going to be okay. Until my sister mentioned putting the cat to sleep. Not that she was serious. Sometimes she will mention something, as a last resort option, but she won’t say she isn’t actually serious. Again, the tears started flowing from a combination of frustration and fear.

The day went by. The cat is fine. Wearing a cone, but fine.

I am back at work this week, and trying hard to keep the positive and deter the negative. I still struggle to keep my attention on a good book, I recently started the Harry Potter Series (now on book three). This post is the most writing I have done since the semester ended in May.

I miss being able to just write. During my first semester of college, three years ago, I began writing a story. Many chapters have evolved since then, even a few other story ideas have developed separately. I get an idea everyday. The issue is getting myself to get into Microsoft Word and continue.

Maybe it’s nerves.  I am afraid to write the stories down, but can’t find out why. Possibly because I want to get it right. It’s hard, connecting ideas and putting it all together.

I want to get back into it, but how?



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