"Deora ar mo chroi"

Deora ar mo chroi,
Deora ar mo chroi.
Tears upon my heart
Falling for your tears
That land upon my shoulders.

Deora ar mo chroi,
Deora ar mo chroi.
Tears upon my heart
Falling for your sorrow
That I don't know how to heal.

Deora ar mo chroi,
Deora ar mo chroi.
Tears upon my heart
Falling for your fears
That I can't seem to soothe.

Deora ar mo chroi,
Deora ar mo chroi.
Tears upon my heart
Falling for tomorrow
That I cannot control.

Deora ar mo chroi,
Deora ar mo chroi.
Tears upon my heart
Falling for the changes
That loom on the horizon.

Deora ar mo chroi,
Deora ar mo chroi.
Tears upon my heart
That shall fall no more.
For whatever does happen,
Our love will remain a constant,
This I swear to you.

Let there be no more
Deora ar ta chroi.

I am really, really starting to get sick of this anxiety crap.

If it's not worries about the future and post-graduation plans, its how the hell am I going to manage my workload now that a job might be starting up next month, and if it isn't that, it's worries about car accidents on the 120 mile round-trip drive on Saturday.

For the past couple weeks that last one has been getting pretty bad. Everytime I sit down to work or study, it slowly slips in its vicious little whispers between medical laws and Plato's The Republic. Want to know what I did this morning as I ate my bagel and cream cheese? I sat there and contemplated how I was going to break the news to my boyfriend's parents that I got in a car crash and their son died at my fault. I planned how I was going to mourn it if it happened - cut my long hair short and slash my arms a la the Lakota.

It's sick and twisted in every sense of the words. It's unfathomabley morbid, and frankly, I hate it. This morning during my speech class I had an anxiety attack and freaked the fuck out. It started with an intention to go to the psychologist of the school, but I detoured and talked to my Psych teacher instead. Had her last year, she understands when this kind of shit happens. Really, I should've just ended it right there. But no. What did I do? I went to the damned psychologist, naively believing she'd keep it confidential. Did I threaten to harm myself or others? No. Did I walk into her office with gushing wounds (although I highly desired it?) No. So now everyone around here is walking on eggshells around me. "Are you ok? Are you sure you're ok?" gets old after the 50th time.

I absolutely hate being shown pity. I really do. In my mind, being shown such pity equates with weakness. Truly... I can deal with a person shrieking at me to quit crying, to get a hold of myself. What I can't deal with is someone being so nice to me when I'm in a vulnerable position. It's like it just furthers the incentive to sit there and weep and feel sorry for myself. I had such a hard time explaining to the teacher I'm an assistant for why I wouldn't be able to help her today. She treated me normally, although with some concern, as it had been her class I started freaking out in. The whole time though, she kept offering to give me a book her therapist had given her for such obsessive anxieties like my own.. jeez.

That's another thing.. I hate, hate hate hate, asking for help. I can do this myself, dammit. I can fix my own damned mental problems. With three faked recoveries under my belt with a final true fixing last year by myself, I know I have the capacity for it. I'm not depressed. I am no longer dealing with eating disorders. I (mostly) don't have to deal with SI anymore. Granted, there are nights, and there are rarer nights that I do give in.... but one is never really cured from that. I fixed myself before, and dammit, I will fix these anxieties on my own.

Fuck psychologists, and fuck the plethora of pills they'd have me take to calm down anxieties. Misdiagnosed Prozac only made it worse while I took it, I'll not trust those fucks again to play mind games with me.

I am stronger than this anxiety.

I will beat it, and I'll do it on my own. 

So take that and shove it.

Someone remarked that I looked like the Lady of Shallot in my display picture over there.

...

I thought it funny.

I've noticed that once all the day is said and done, once the schooling and homework and entertainment of left-wing blogs and possible tv shows are finished with...that this anxious nature inside myself has begun to rear its ugly head.

So many worries.. I'm not sure if they're baseless or not, but they are certainly there. Worries about my competence level in the class that gets me a nurse's assistant certificate. There's so much do to for it, I don't know if I can handle it all atop the other courses I need to be taking. I wonder and doubt at times if I'm good enough to be able to become a certified nursing assistant (CNA) in only 9 months. I won't even be 18 at the end of it. It's a scary thought sometimes..

So is the thought of graduation. What the hell am I going to do after I'm done with this secondary education? I'll be prepared to work, getting my CNA certification (assuming I'm competent enough to finish and pass the course in flying colors).. but then there's the need to get into a midwifery college. The National College of Midwifery  based in Taos, NM, to be specific. Save I'll be learning in a distance learning program rather than moving. Moving just isn't an option at this time. But oh.. there are so many costs to that, too. The college charges a one time fee of $2900, then $150 per year for each additional year needed to complete the Associates for the Science of Midwifery degree. I'm not complaining about that, I know for damned well it's a deal. But then there are books.. a 7 page list of books that I need to buy. Then there is the need to pay 'tuition' to the midwife I apprentice under. The college suggests a -minimum- of $500 per month, per trimester needed to finish the program. I haven't calculated that yet, and I'm not sure I want to yet. Then atop all that is the fees, fees, fees needed to be an apprentice in the state of Colorado, the fee to take the NARM exam to be accredited as a midwife..$790 at last check. The fee for this, the fee for that.. I know college isn't cheap, but I'm so anxious about how I'm going to pay for it all atop whatever costs of living I'll have to pay.

Dues, dues, and more dues.. that's all life is.

I wish this scared little voice would just shut up. This is one of the reasons I have insomnia, I think. I can keep the anxiety under control during the day, during the afternoon when I'm busy.. but I have to lie down and be silent at some time.

Maybe it's just the perfectionist inside, fretting about everything to be certain that I'll accomplish what I need to do to be able to succeed later on. But oh..I know some stress is good, some anxiety can actually help.. but not when it drives to misery. I'm snappy and peevish when I'm home now, locking myself away for hours while I finish work and then finish more, in advance, checking and rechecking to make sure it's up to standards and then worrying it won't be.

It's this damned thing inside that drives me to self-destruction, in whatever forms it takes. Those harsh criticisms directed inward that drive to the blade, to the toilet.. I'm so sick of myself.

..weak. Aye. That's all this bitching is. Weakness. I need to be above it, yet I'm not, and I hate it.

...damn, but I want a scalpel.

I'm starting to hate the person I've become.