Better By Nightfall

Stress engenders unusual and deviant phenomena both in my life and within me. Though I feel fine during these instances, I am never completely fine. There is always something boiling under the surface, stewing away until it can bubble over into some part of my day, week, or month.

In some ways I have grown accustomed to the undeniable fact that stress will always be a part of my life because I make it part of my life. Stress and I have a symbiotic relationship, if that is even possible. Even though it can be imposed upon me by others, and even though I know it only has as much power over me as I allow it to; we engage in tussles to determine who reigns supreme. Sort of like the Narrator and Tyler Durden in "Fight Club," only not as psychotic nor homoerotic.

I cannot place my finger on the main issue. I cannot determine why my life is and has always, seemingly, been this way. I do, however, know that it is almost entirely mental.

I seem to throw mental roadblocks in my path. However, instead of simple sidewinding curves, my mind goes to the extremes of cliffhanging hairpin turns. I make mountains out of molehills. I see land mines in green grass. Yet, aside from taking it one turn, reach, or step at a time, I can't release myself form this tension.

For some reason, I always feel like I'm under the gun. I'm always on the run without ever knowing where exactly I am going. I cannot shape it no more than stop it because I feel some innate drive within me. I am compelled by it; yet, pushed, pulled, and tugged at the same time.

At the very least, though, I feel like I can handle my stress--my "Tyler Durden"--much better. Being by myself has been tough. Classes have not been easy. Teaching has challenged me more than I thought it would. Yet, I feel inured to this life I have going for me. Sometimes I feel caught up in all of it. Other times, I feel like I am drowning in all of it. At my most desolate, I feel consumed by it.

Most of the times, though, I feel support all around me. It always lingers off in the distance and it is never hard to find, though clouded in stress. Although it often appears as a simple spark in my darkest hours, it becomes the ray of perseverance and hope that guides me through and leads me closer to where I am meant to be.

I am starting to feel like Bill Murray in Lost in Translation. I have the worst luck getting to sleep at night, not because I am in another place, because I can't put myself at ease. Thoughts keep running through my mind and, for whatever reason, I cannot let them go.

This is nothing new for me, but it seems more intense this semester. No doubt, grad school has played a role in this. However, I feel like this has become more habitual and less endemic than it used to be. It's a nightly thing and I cannot shake it. I think if it were simply school I would be over it. After all, things are going well.

As I sit here, focusing primarily on this issue and putting everything else on hold, I feel relaxed in analysis. I am uncertain about my "insomnia." I've been questioning whether or not it is biological, and I do not think it is. If it were, it seems that it would be more pervasive and harmful. Upon further introspection, I think it might be psychological out of loneliness.¹

Don't get wrong. I enjoy living alone, but I think that my insomnia and loneliness go hand in hand somehow. Although I am skeptical about this point too, it seems to fit more in my mind. After all, when I am up late I am usually talking to my friends over the Internet or on the phone. Of course, these forms of communication are no substitute for face-to-face interaction, and I think that is why I am having a hard time truly overcoming "the loneliness issue." I have friends I interact with on a daily basis, but no one is a good friend. At least, not yet.

To be fair, I have found some relief with some of my good friends who do not live here, but the distance makes it tough. I want to enjoy a pitcher of beer and random stories with them or get a cup of coffee and have an intellectually stimulating conversation, but that cannot happen unless we are in the same place. I also have some new friends in grad school that will likely become good friends. Until then, though, I am lost in my thoughts about everything and nothing. Words that are unvoiced because I do not have anyone who will listen nearby.

I guess it is something I need to get over and come to terms with. After all, I will eventually leave Boise in pursuit of my PhD in a matter of years; I'll have to start over again. If I can overcome it sooner, I will be better off (and have better sleep).


_{1: I don't think it is the coffee or tea. I have reduced my intake dramatically since the end of September. The only thing this would potentially cause is depression!}

Autumn is, without a doubt, my favorite season. The crisp air and cooler temperatures enliven my senses. I feel revitalized by the changing colors, smoky skies, and hazy days. I relish in the ephemeral nature of the season, knowing winter is not far behind.

It is during this time I am most cognizant to the world around me. I take in the changes and reflect on those that have occurred, are occurring, and will occur in my life.

In my solitude, I am able to appreciate where I have been and where I am going.

Adjusting to graduate school has been a difficult process, but I am feeling more at home with each passing day. Each week has brought me closer to finding my voice and my place. Undoubtedly, I continue to struggle. I continue to be pushed and pulled in multiple ways, but I adjust. I change, grow, and move closer to solace and stability.

Perhaps, more importantly, I am starting to understand the motions and norms of the position I hope to attain. Each day as a student, teacher, and committee member illuminates aspects of what I hope will be my future. It furthers my knowledge, making me more adept at what I do.

The changes and adjustments propel me. I remain driven. Inspired.

I will be if I believe.

This weekend I tried to find solace in the chaos of my current situation.

Graduate school has gotten slightly better, but I still question my place here. It is hard to describe exactly what I am feeling. In a strange way, I don't think I can properly put words to my feelings that would explain what "it" is like. I feel out of place, but I know I belong. I do not understand the material, then I grasp it days later. I feel dumb, though I know I am smart. I feel like a fraud, and question if I am.

It is a series of contradictions, constructed entirely in the atmosphere of my mind. The uncertainty coalesces in my mind. It weighs heavy in my thoughts and actions. It ensnares me.

I know that I am not the only graduate student that feels this way. I know I am one of many who is currently struggling with this feeling. I know others who have been through this.

I know this is a phase. I know this will pass in due time.

I know I will get through this.


Though the struggle is painful, I need to remind myself, time and time again, that this is another mountain among countless mountains. I will continue to struggle. I will continue to fight. I will come out on top of this. I will survive this.

I will be better for all my struggles.

There is so much to tell since my hiatus from the blogoshpere. I have missed being able to detail my thoughts and cathartic outbursts. Had I figured out how to properly update and transfer my website information over, this never would have been an issue. I simply would've resumed blogging as usual and, aside from the transfer, not had anything else to worry about.

I'll relate the full story later in more detail. For now, all you need to know is:

• I have returned with a slightly new address and will, of course, continue to blog
  
• I met some amazing cool people this summer, some I hope to stay in touch with for a long time
  
• I met some incredibly annoying people, some I hope to avoid
  
• I grew up a lot this summer
  
• Grad school is crazy