It is the first day of instruction for winter quarter and I am in denial about the entire situation. Ignoring emails, making pancakes, blogging, painting my nails (the nails are part of my battle dress really, so that's some preparation). What I should be doing is cleaning my room, showering, picking up groceries, and checking all those emails.
Another year, another quarter.
I didn't make my standard new year's post this year, with resolutions and reflections and the like. I spent most of my vacation in Paris and London visiting Lily, and thus didn't have a lot of writing or thinking time. But I also wasn't at all inspired by the new year; I didn't want to make any resolutions.
And so, 2014. The year I don't start with any long term goals.
Admittedly, I am feeling rather anxious about the start of winter quarter (although that could be the new medication and its side effects or all those emails waiting in my inbox). I don't feel very prepared or well adjusted. And yet, here we are. My only option is to dive right in.
This first-day-of-school post is probably not as hopeful and cheery as I'm sure you and I would like it to be. But it's honestly how I have been feeling these last few days. In general, I'm really doing just fine. Still keeping on every day.
Last summer, a friend had me listen to the song "A Better Son/Daughter" by Rilo Kiley and I want to share it today. This song is one of the best explanations I've found for living with depression. At the beginning of the song, the music and vocals sound muffled in order to make a comparison between the highs and lows of living; the lyrics are almost perfect for describing what I so often feel like. Over the past months, I have found both hope and comfort in this song--hope to keep on fighting and comfort in the shared experience.
Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can’t move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can’t breathe
And I hope someone will help me this time
And your mother’s still calling you insane and high
Swearing it’s different this time
And you tell her you give in to the demons that possess her
And that God never blessed her insides
Then you hang up the phone
And feel badly for upsetting things
Crawl back into bed to dream of a time
When your heart was open wide
And you loved things just because
Like the sick and the dying
And sometimes when you’re on
You’re really fucking on
And your friends they sing along
And they love you
But the lows are so extreme
That the good seems fucking cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence
But you’ll fight and you’ll make it through
You’ll fake it if you have to
And you’ll show up for work with a smile
And you’ll be better
And you’ll be smarter
And more grown up
And a better daughter or son
And a real good friend
And you’ll be awake
You’ll be alert
You’ll be positive though it hurts
And you’ll laugh and embrace all your friends
And you’ll be a real good listener
You’ll be honest
You’ll be brave
You’ll be handsome and you’ll be beautiful
You’ll be happy
Your ship may be coming in
You’re weak but not giving in
To the cries and the wails of the valley below
And your ship may be coming in
You’re weak but not giving in
And you’ll fight it
You’ll go out fighting all of them
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