This is why I don't have a pet. If you readers were a goldfish, you'd be dead.
But I have had a bad case of block of the writer. And I haven't had to time to sit down most nights.
Here's the short summary of the month of April:
School, school, school, school. Car trouble, walk to school, walk home, walk to school, cry, fix car, school, school, sleep, sew, design, school, school, eat, hot glue feathers to shirt, school, school, show, concert, school, school, eat, sleep.
Add a dash of stress and a cup of self pity and you have a recipe for a crazy month.
I think most of my conversations with friends consisted of rants about fabric, drama, and movie quotes. My brain was operating on overdrive and, to tell the truth, I think I burned myself out a little bit.
It's easy to get dragged down by drama. When you feel like nothing is going right and your back is against the wall, it is really easy to just give up and sit there, going through the motions.
And then something reminds you that you have to keep moving. I think for me it might have been the evening when I had a sobbing phone call about money and a nasty cast member with my mom, then a rehearsal with my wonderful pianist that ended with crying and throwing up in his bathroom for hours because I was so overwhelmed.
Something reminds you that stress keeps you from worlds of things that are beautiful and loud and incredible. Like the people who hold your hand and comfort you even when you are a bumbling, whining, overwhelmed mess.
Then I decided that I really wasn't done. The stakes and pressure were high, but not high enough for me to hang up my character shoes and go home. No. Just enough for me to work my butt off and go the extra mile - even with little thanks or recognition.
And that show felt good. It felt good to be onstage. It felt good to perform my heart out, to see the costumes I designed come to life, and to see the scene I helped to direct shine.
And that helped center me. And helped me remember why I am here, earning this crazy, catty degree. Because stage lights and applause are some of the best antidepressants.
There is a song by Florence + The Machine called Shake It Out. It's one of my new power songs, along with Girl on Fire and I'm A Star.
It's about being so overwhelmed and burdened by an addiction that you just decide to "shake it out"; become free and start fresh, knowing that it's going to be hard and will hurt but realizing that that space is where beauty grows out of. A seed has to grow through dirt before it can become a flower.
Life is a process and you just have to shake off the negativity bit by bit.
"It's always darkest before the dawn"- it takes lots of internal painful struggle against the beautiful memories and lovely moments that are to be ceased. This gray time is the darkest and most torturing. The dawn is supposed to be the moment when you make up your mind to get over with it and let it go.
I know I write a lot about "finding yourself" and "overcoming negativity" and all this sentimental stuff, but it's really big in my life right now.
So I am back, after a month relapse into doubt and self pity and insecurity.
But I'm good.