I’m not trying to be alarmist, but I’ve reached a low point. I can’t put my finger on exactly when it started or even why it has continued this long, but I’m not doing super well at the moment.
Okay, that sounds fairly alarming. Let me rephrase to something more like, I’m not doing great and thought I’d be feeling a lot better by now. Maybe it’s something to do with the holidays coming up and the results of the election (although I felt shitty long before the election happened). I drafted an email to my family addressing the polarity between us both politically and sometimes socially, re-wrote it four times, tortured my friends with all four of those drafts (sorry friends) and then decided not to send it. But I wasn’t feeling shitty because I wrote the email, the shittiness prompted it.
Maybe I didn’t give Tim enough credit when he was alive for taking care of me. Actually, you can strike the “maybe” from that sentence. Even at his worst, Tim always tried to keep me up to the best version of myself. There are countless little things about our relationship that I not only miss, but relied on more than I knew.
Or maybe it’s the fact that in the past 30 days I’ve had four cavities filled, one giant mole removed and learned that my body has recently decided to stop breathing 54 times an hour when I sleep. ‘Cause you know, if you’re not broken emotionally (that’s me!) you’re broken physically (ok j/k, that’s me too).
Don’t get me wrong, there have been high points in the past few months. Simon debuted in the open 3’3″ jumpers at our local circuit, and won every class. I got to lesson on him this past weekend, and though my thighs are still burning (incredible, incredible pain… never stop riding consistently), I had a smile on my face the entire time.
I also have a smile on my face every time I walk by my fire place now, because my heart is shining as painted by the extremely talented Julie Ferris.
Still, I am having a hard time. I’m not doing great, and I’m asking y’all for help.
First off, can someone buy Roman? He’s as big as a bus and he likes to rest his nose on your shoulder and blow soft kisses… what’s not to love! Anyone? Bueller? Damn. It was worth a try.
More realistically, and I’m being serious on my pleas for help on the rest of this post, I’m looking for readers. I didn’t plan to plummet into depression right in the middle of my grad school applications, but that’s exactly what’s happened. Progress remains steady, but I could really use readers/reviewers for the following:
- Writing samples (literary memoir, long)
- Statement of Purpose (formal “Who I am and why I want to study” academic two pager)
- Critical writing of literature (2-3 pages)
- My rather pathetic CV
An ideal reader would be someone who reads a lot, knows the academic world or has dabbled in any type of creative writing workshop. Yes I realize it’s a pretty desperate plea to ask blog readers to not only read my work but take time out of their lives to write up comments, but I’m trying to learn how to ask for help when needed and use my network.
Hello network. I’m Lauren, and I may or may not be having a nervous breakdown.
Also, even if you don’t feel able to do some critical reading for me, I’d love it if all blog readers could leave a comment below about what posts I’ve written that you resonated the most with. This can be funny posts, sad posts, emotional posts… whatever! Basically I’m looking for which of my writing packs the biggest punch without someone knowing my entire story and having read me for years. If that makes sense.
Finally, my last request is for anyone to share in the comments specific things (sans therapy) that have worked for them in the past when getting through a wee bit of a situation induced sleep deprived existential depression. I’m trying to balance self care with progress on my grad school applications and keeping a clean house. My essential oil diffuser is blowing lavender and citrus overtime, and I even broke down and bought caffeine free herbal tea at Trader Joe’s tonight BECAUSE I’M GETTING DESPERATE PEOPLE.
Also because it had a really cute fox on the box. I like foxes.
That’s all. Please send wine. Or don’t actually, because google tells me that makes me stop breathing in my sleep even more than I already do (more on this later) and despite everything I’d probably still prefer to wake up tomorrow. I do have a book to write after all. And as always, thank you all.