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October 29, 2014 
9:54 PM

I told my students that they had to write at least 3 diary entries between Monday and Thursday. I usually give them guiding questions that are anchored to our text but this week, I am encouraging them to do some free-writes, as long as they don't write them in their own homes. I want them to choose places that Anne Frank might have gone, if she would've been able to leave the confines of her father's attic, during the start of WWII. Being that Anne couldn't leave, couldn't get a breath of fresh air, couldn't go to school, or see her friends, I wanted them to write about doing those things.. I'm hoping that by doing these diary entries, they learn to appreciate their freedom and the little things that they have; things that so many others aren't fortunate enough to have at all. 

So like a good teacher, I too have to do the same... Only I'm cheating.. Because I'm in my room.. In my bed.. But to be honest, this doesn't feel like my room. It's been almost a month since I moved in and I still don't feel like I'm home. When I go into the kitchen, I don't know where things are. Took me 10 minutes to figure out where the bread was yesterday.. I always get stuck trying to unlock the top lock of the front door - which scares the heck out of me at night because I fear someone will run up on me before I finally get it open. And I can't do whatever I want, when ever I want. I have to ask for permission and be considerate. I don't feel comfortable. And honestly, its less about sharing a space with someone than it is about feeling like I have to be ever so careful - careful not to mess up anything in her house, careful not to be too loud when she's asleep, careful not to be an outright roomate from hell! I don't see myself as ever being that but you never know what really bothers someone else ...until you do it and then it's like "woahhh what the hell were you thinking?" ...I'm doing my best to avoid all of that. I hate it though. I've been alone for 7 years... 7 years of walking around my house as free as bird. Labeling this move a cultural shock might be way too strong - but I'm tired and that's all I can think of right now. Maybe comfort-shock might be a better way to describe it. I'm so out of my comfort zone. I just want to feel like when I come home, I'm really home. 

But I mean, I really love this place itself; I just don't feel like I belong here yet. To finally admit that makes me cry. Maybe my period is coming and I'm being extra emotional. I guess I'm just as mercurial as Anne. One minute I'm happy and optimistic about everything. The next minute, I'm counting the tears that roll from my eyes to my cheeks, down to my neck, eventually finding their way to my heart. 

3:45 AM
It's so creepy here at night. The sound of the train is so eerie. It's like this incessant harmonizing screeching that never ends. There are high notes and lows that fade in, out, and over each other but they don't cease. I'm only afraid when I'm by myself. And I really can't sleep without Tay. I don't feel safe without him.. When he's here, it's reassuring to know that he'll bark if anything is coming against me. I'm thankful for that. 

4:36 AM
I'm not the same. I feel myself changing by the minute. I wear sweat pants almost everyday. I don't brush my hair. My eyebrows are wolfing. My eyes are always heavy. I'm always planning and writing to-do lists. I never have time for myself anymore.. I read all day but nothing for my soul, it's all for my course work or for my students. I miss reading and writing for fun. That's my therapy.. Maybe even my addiction. And I think I'm going through the depressed phase that people endure when they are deprived from their drug. It's crazy how the blog hit 100k views two days ago but I feel like I have been posting a bunch of nonsense. I'm not happy with the pieces I have been presenting. I know I can do better. I know I can. Some call this writers block but I don't know. I think I'm just too busy to think about anything other than work. I just want to write again. Like really, really write ... but I'm always mentally drained of all creativity by the time I get home. My outlines and drafts of "The Beginning" sit on my desk, calling me to finish them every night but I have lost my desire to complete them. I try to write my morning meditations like I used to love to do but they just turn into another to-do list for the day. If you look in my journal from the last two months, the majority of what you will see are daily to-do lists. 

I mean I love the productivity that I am practicing. I'm becoming a better woman professionally and reaching my goal of becoming a master planner ...but I'm losing myself creatively. 

Proof reading this vent, that started off as a mere model of how to write a journal entity for my kids, scares me. How did I get here? Just last week, I wrote about looking at my robust schedule and being totally motivated by it - knowing that I am in fact doing the arduous work of planting seeds for my "future children's children" but now I'm in her sobbing like someone told me I can never do the things I love again. What's wrong with me? I'm not in hiding like Anne. I am very free. Seriously man, this moody sh't is so frightening. I worry about myself. Am I depressed and bipolar like my mom? I don't want to be. I really don't. I know how to find my happiness and I know how to find my peace. I really do. But why do I feel like so dark and down about things as of late?

Am I too busy? Should I drop one of my endeavors? How can I do such a thing when everything I am working on is for a greater cause than just me? I have so many goals that I'm trying to accomplish: I want to take Blossoms to the next level, I want to get my project with Lacey and Josh off of the ground, I want to get a new car through World Ventures, I want to help other women see the world through my work with PYNKberri, I want to finish my Beginnings book, I want to ace my Admin 1 portfolio, I want to plan lessons that continue raising the rigor and reading levels of my my students. I'm working hard each day toward everything above, yet, I don't feel fulfilled. It is evident that I have a clear vision of my purpose. Those are my true passions... So why aren't they giving me life like they used to?

This might be the last thing that I need but maybe I need another to-do list..  

1. Appreciate What I Have

How can I expect my students to appreciate the little things that they have, that Anne didn't have, when I'm not even doing the same. That's hypocritical. I have to practice what I preach. But do I sound ungrateful for venting about how I feel? I hope not. I am grateful for everything. I think I just need more time to adjust to this shift. Like they say, change is good. And the growing pains that come with such change are only temporary. Everything will get better and I will find myself at peace in a new-normal. I have to have faith in the future, instead of wallowing in the despair of what's bothering me in right now. 


2. Stop Working on Work 
    Start Working on You

I need to remember that I am planting my seeds now, they will flourish in due time. Trees don't grow over night but they last hundreds of years. My work will leave a lasting legacy that will extend far beyond my lifetime. But this work cannot get done if I do not stop and take some me time. Yes, these things will all benefit me in the long run but they are all work related. No fun. I need to fulfill my fun need, as least 3 times a week. I honestly felt like fun was wrong right now - I can't have fun, I have too much to do. But the more I go without doing things that bring me joy, the higher the likelihood of me falling into depression. I need to get back to visiting gardens, thrifting, and most of all - writing. 

3. Talk to People

My boyfriend read this post before I finished it and he immidiately called me and reminded me of something that I already knew. "When the seasons change, our moods change. This is normal, you're not depressed. You just miss me." After talking to him, I realized he's right. Especially about the last part. I haven't seen him in almost 2 weeks and I haven't spent time with some of my favorite friends in almost 3 months. I miss my people. If I hadn't showed him this post, he wouldn't have had any idea of what I was feeling and I wouldn't have gotten the reassuring advice that I needed. Guess I better stop hoarding my feelings and let things out so that I can let them go. 



Pray for me,
V

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