Category Archives: distractions

Gravity

People seem to feel I don’t understand what is happening. They question how I can just prattle on about GRE’s, work, and all sorts of whimsy matters when, according to them, it is the end of the world. Except for me, it is not. Yes, divorce is hard. Unbelievably hard. Throw in a couple of kids, a house, and all sorts of other things, and you get a never ending migraine.

But it is not the end of the world, and life doesn’t come to a stand still. Exams don’t go away, doctoral programs don’t wait for you to be in a better state of mind, work doesn’t stop, responsibilities don’t disappear. And I can’t stop living.

Do I focus on a lot of these things as a form of distraction from the brutality of what is going on? Of course. I deal in distractions – they are my favorite coping mechanism. But all of these things get me through the day. The happy songs in the morning. The moments of dancing in the bedroom with my kids as I am putting on my jewelry and getting ready for work. The concentration on practice tests that dwindle the hours. The drinks with friends. The reading. The blogging.

What would you have me do? Bemoan my fate from morning til dusk? Rail against the unfairness of life, blaming others for decisions I consciously made? Obsess over…. over what?

Yes, I understand the gravity of what is happening. I am neither stupid nor oblivious. I take it as it comes. And then I go on.

Spinning Only Once More

I cope in distractions. When there are too many stressors I find solace in my head and it works each time. When I finish dedicating hours to my thoughts, time has passed, and things have changed. Time elides. Last night I was restless, and by all accounts this morning I should have been exhausted. But instead I have indefatigable energy.

It is finals week, and everything is due. The end is not just in sight, but has arrived. When I awoke this morning I was gripped with an unfathomable thrill. The panic is gone, wiped away with the time spent on analyzing poetry last night. I am too ecstatic to say I am calm. But it is a different kind of calm. There is no more studying I can possibly do. I have rewritten my paper enough times. I have worked on my projects to the best of my abilities. Que sera sera.

Just a few more days, measured out in scanty hours, and the performance can end. Just one more show that has been endlessly, pedantically rehearsed. And then I can stop spinning, spinning, spinning, and let myself be dizzy with happiness and relief.

I can begin acclimating to a new schedule containing many hours of free time, as they are already being allotted out. I have time for endless thoughts but right now, none for being tired.