It has been four months since I last blogged. This is a silly fact, considering this is one of the most volatile and terrifying times I have experienced in my (albeit quite short) life.
So, hi. Why terrifying, you ask? Most of you reading this will already know that I’ve been accepted to both Oregon State and Washington State’s MA programs for Literature. So that’s… pretty fucking great. Except, my poor little Rhode Island soul is about to be transported three thousand miles away to a tiny little town on the border of Idaho, for Christ’s sake. Seriously? Idaho? And here’s the thing: I hate change. It is terrifying. I am terrified. I am excited, I am happy, I am all of those things that I should be, that everyone keeps saying I “must be!” But I am also terrified.
Graduate school is not something I ever envisioned for myself until about a year ago. Maybe less. Hell, I didn’t even envision myself with an undergraduate degree until two years ago. I have more than excelled at RIC in the past few years. I have a 4.0 GPA to show for it. I have earned the respect of my professors and my peers, have produced work of a high enough quality to successfully get me admitted to two (so far) programs, I have made my family incredibly proud. These things I know. Regardless, there still exists such a terrible feeling of inadequacy, of self doubt, of destructive disbelief. This is something I have dealt with, as everyone does, frequently over the years, and I have learned how to successfully overcome it, for the most part. But this time it’s accompanied by the fact that I’m going to be leaving everything I know. The anchors that I can always rely on to get me through the toughest of the tough will be out here in the Ocean State, while I am on the opposite coast, probably turning into a vegan tree hugging hippie.
I worry about leaving my family. And my friends. And my school. My professors. Hell, Hanson hardly tours on the West Coast! WHAT exactly am I going to do?! I worry about that first time that there’s a big event here in the New England part of the world… Alexis’s first birthday, maybe, in June. The one year anniversary of Auntie Joyce’s death in July. I worry about how I’m going to deal with the heartache that will inevitably come with wanting so badly to be here and knowing that I can’t be, that I can’t be because I made a choice.
With all that said, I am genuinely excited about this, somewhere buried under all that fear. I am, I feel it. I am overwhelmed by the thought that some committee deemed me intelligent enough to give me a spot in two different fairly selective programs. And that one of them thought highly enough of me to offer me the opportunity to TEACH writing to people. That… that is overwhelming. I will actually be teaching classes a year from now. It is an unbelievable thing that has not quite sunken in just yet. But each day it hits a little deeper and a little deeper.
This seems like a fairly negative post, and I don’t mean it to be. The point is that I’m DOING this, even though I’m totally fucking terrified. I will do it. I will go out there. I will experience whatever’s there for me to experience, and I will be a different person, a better person for it. I know this.
I’m really happy right now. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed and emotional often, but there’s a more concrete happiness underneath all that than I feel there has ever really been. I’ve been learning so much about myself in the past few years, and I continue to do so every day. I met someone great who I’m enjoying spending time with, and even though I have no idea what will happen when we’re on opposite ends of the country, I’m not so worried about it because we’re enjoying each other right now and that seems to be all that’s important. I’ve narrowed my group of friends down to a select few that are genuine and caring and giving and that I connect with, so even though I don’t have a huge group of people to call on when I’m feeling social, I feel more secure than I ever have in the people I’ve chosen to keep by my side. I’m finally making good decisions for my own wellbeing. It took nearly twenty-five years, and it’s still a struggle, but I’m making it happen.
Anyway, oh blogosphere, I will sure try to keep a better record of the goings-on as I prepare for the biggest possible change in the upcoming months. It will be nice to have something to look back on when my name becomes Rachael Dunn, MA.
Hi tumblr. I don’t really use you much anymore, do I? I hope you aren’t feeling neglected.
Here are some things:
1. I’m getting my new tattoo on 9/2. It’s going to be a cardinal for my aunt. I cannot, CANNOT, wait.
2. I’ve been hanging out/making out with a really cute boy these days. I like that.
3. School is soon. I miss school. I am excited for school.
4. Work is making me drained and exhausted all the time. I’ve been not sleeping at night and sleeping during the day instead. I’m not sure what this is about or how I feel about it.
Those are all the things.
I decided on my next tattoo. In between the play button on my wrist and “mere words” on my arm, I’m going to get a lotus flower opening up to reveal an open book. It’s perfectly symbolic for this semester, and I’m going to need something to remind myself that I got through this semester. Provided, of course, that I DO get through this semester.
I’m starting the apartment search again, and it’s really kind of bumming me out. This will be my 5th apartment in as many years, and it’s just getting really tiring not having a place to call home. Yup, I said that cheesy line. What about it?
Sorry for the tumblah spam, frands.
I found myself walking to Starbucks to get my car this morning behind a man about my age wearing a pair of Toms.