I started grad school this week. I've been feeling more and more anxious the last few weeks, and it all kind of culminated in a total breakdown today in a corner of the downtown city library. Panic attack complete with ugly cry bawling, hoping the people studying nearby didn't see. I am normally not an anxious person, I would usually leave that classification for the hubby. The man worries about everything, it's honestly part of his plan for life. But over the summer there has been a steady build up in my head. Wondering what on earth I am doing, and why I thought I could do it. The last couple of weeks I've found myself in a fog, desperately trying to clear out space to think.
My first class was Monday. My Tuesday class is the intro class with everyone else starting this semester. My Monday class had three other students, all of whom will graduate at the end of next semester. The class is a subject I'm very interested in, but feel completely unprepared to tackle yet. I emailed my director, and she replied that she is confident I can handle it. Her confidence does not increase my own.. but I guess I'm staying in the class. I finished my first day as a grad student feeling like a ton of bricks had been dropped on me from above.
Tuesday's intro class was less intimidating at the onset. We did a round of introductions, and while there were a lot of people who have experience in the nonprofit world, and out in the world in general, I didn't feel completely out of place. We eventually broke into groups and mine discussed the factors affecting Utah, those that are increasing and decreasing in their influence and what the future may hold. I felt like I could hold my own there and enjoyed interacting with the group. And then, right before class ended the teacher, our program director, went over some of the syllabus and what we should be expecting in the next couple of weeks. The major point being that in the next week or two we should all really define "our issue". We are all there because we care about something and want to make a difference. We need to really define what that is so that we can focus on it, not only in this class, but in all the classes we will have in the program.
Holy crap balls did this stress me out. This whole journey I've been on for years has basically been to figure out what I should do with my life. And suddenly I'm supposed to have an answer in two weeks. Another night of uneasy overwhelm with hints of possibilities would follow.
I woke up Wednesday focused on the meeting I had that morning with the executive director of a local nonprofit who was looking for a part time office staff. I'd been recommended by an amazing friend, and the position seemed perfect. Low level of challenge skill wise, and not too highly paying, but rich in opportunity to learn and network. It was a great meeting, and we both seemed pretty happy with the possible arrangement. I arrived home, emailed over the requested resume, and in two hours had a job offer in my inbox. I pulled up my calendar to get an idea of when I could tell them I would be available to work.. and ended up sitting there until after midnight. Literally, the girls played games while I work, and I ordered dinner delivered. I got out of the chair to answer the door for the delivery person, but I think that's about it.
I admit, I like to over plan. I love spreadsheets and itineraries and to do lists. They give me a sense of control in this chaotic life. It usually make me feel better to have a plan to implement. Whether it all goes that way in the end is irrelevant, I have a basic structure to go off of. Well, not that day. I was somehow working myself into a panic attack. Trying to visualize this new life of grad school and a job, while still being a mother, a wife, (and yes, a person!) was turning out to be a very complicated puzzle. The longer I worked at it, the later it got, the more tired I became and the more the idea of this hugely booked up life began to completely freak me out.
I tried to be reasonable, and talk myself down. I emailed the director and let her know that I'd only be able to commit to 15 hours a week, hoping that when she'd said that she wanted someone from 15-20 hours, that meant she'd be ok with any number along that spectrum. Exhausted and slightly half crazed, I went to bed sometime after 1am.
My alarm went off at 7am, and a complete zombie managed to drag herself out of bed, dress and feed two girls, gather their school supplies and drop them off at their schools. I returned home to sink deeper into anxiety and the sense that life was just too hard to handle. Hours later I managed to get myself out into the sunshine for some exercise, nutrition and to read some of the ton of pages I was assigned in my two classes. It definitely helped. And I managed to carry on somewhat normally for a while.
Saturday I realized that although I had not planned to do any school related work that day, (in laws were visiting), that I would be completely crazy not to try and spend at least sometime getting more of a handle on things. If only to try and reduce the size of the ever present anxiety cloud following me around! So, after some detours and distractions I finally found myself sitting at a table on the 4th floor of the downtown city library. I had all my books, my computer, notebooks and pens and hand outs all spread before me, ready for me to really crack down and get some work done. I pulled out one assignment, and as I looked it over my head began to hurt, my heart began to race and all of a sudden I couldn't breathe. I had no idea what to do. I couldn't come up with what the first step would be, and could see no way I would be able to complete this assignment. I closed my eyes, took deep breaths, and put the assignment away. I reached for another one, and started going through a list of questions and trying to fill out a form. Again, the headache amped up, the heart starting going crazy and I could no longer breathe. I sat there for a while taking in my pile of school supplies, and realizing I had no idea what to do... and my ever present anxiety cloud became a full fledged storm that completely rolled over me. I sat there shaking, completely lost. I opened Facebook on my computer and posted a short paragraph in a private group I belong to.
"I can't do this. I can't go to graduate school. Whenever I try to work on things for class my head starts to pound and my heart races and I can't breathe. I can't do this. This was my dream and I can't do it. I thought I was spunky and special and could change the world. But I was wrong."
After putting my confession out into the world I started to cry. Just small sniffles at first, then racking sobs. I was sitting alone in a library bawling my heart out, hoping that no one around me would notice.
A combination of:
1. the responses online of kind, wise, positive friends with more confidence in my abilities than I had, combating my insistence that they did not realize how incompetent and unprepared I was
2. packing up my thing and making it to the bathroom to calm down and clean up, and
3. an amazing person I'd never met in person before, who had the experience and kindness I needed, coming to share a treat and listen to me...
These all led to led to an emotionally exhausted and fragile but stable person who could eventually leave the library to meet her in laws for dinner.
I'm home now. The day is over. I survived. I feel drained, but, thankfully, some of the dread, anxiety and overwhelm came out with all the snot and tears. And in the end I found that I had made one bit of real progress in my huge school to do list after all. I was able to start defining what my cause is. The amazing people who stepped up to hear and support me in my crisis helped me to remember what it is I really am passionate about. Community. I picked this program, and it picked me, because of the work I have done and want to do in creating and strengthening community.
In looking at what I've been doing in my life, it's the women's education group that most excites me. I created the MofEd group because I wanted something like it and couldn't find one. And I love it. It's been such an asset, academically and emotionally, for not only myself. I believe it really filled a need. It grew so quickly, and there's so much love and support there. And it's because it's filled with amazing women who want to support each other. I firmly believe that women need each other, we are stronger together.
And so right now I believe what I want is to work with women and education. I love the idea of being involved in mentoring and providing communities of support and resources. I have a special place in my heart for women going back to school after a long absence (can't imagine why) and hope to also work with the youth to encourage girls to really investigate their options, to consider their futures from many angles and to take college more seriously. Did you know Utah has the lowest national average of women who graduate from college??
And now, with tired eyes, and a less heavy heart.. while still slightly unstable and overwhelmed, I find myself hopeful.. and am off to get some much need sleep. Because tomorrow is a new day, and I have things to do. Save the world, change the culture, ya know.. the norm.
