Brief Stress Vent

Hello there to whoever is reading this. I hope you're well. I just needed a place to vent about what's been happening in my life lately, and I wasn't sure where else to go.

It's been a long week. There's just too much chaos for me to handle. Unreplied emails from well-intentioned teachers are piling up. Unreplied texts from friendly and concerned are pouring in. People are asking if I'm okay and I'm not really sure how to answer them, so I just say yes. I am not one for uncertainty, and things feel so uncertain.

I feel as if most people I know have moved beyond the pandemic and I'm stuck beating against its outer glass wall. I can't get out of it and I'm watching everyone outside. I'm an introvert, but I miss my friends. I haven't seen any of them face-to-face and talked with them in about three months, and it's lonely. For the second time in a week I've turned my camera off in class as I tried not to cry, listening to my friends laughing and having fun, so energetic, and all together; from the microphone of the teacher's computer.

Virtual school exasperates me: I miss answering questions and talking in class. The truth is that I've always had low self-esteem, and I've always relied on other people's validation to keep it up. In the past I've had my friends and my teachers to reassure me that I wasn't selfish or useless. Now, since I can hardly speak to any of them, this validation is gone; leaving me with both no confidence, and the realizaton that my reliance on reassurance is pathetic.

There's just so much homework, so much classwork, so much to do. Things are packed like sardines. I miss having the chance to read a book and focus on it. I miss reading and writing. I miss getting involved in the program I'm coding, or the research I'm doing, or the piece I'm drawing. I wish I had time for the parts of my identity that weren't just school. I haven't gone for a walk or run in three days. I haven't even exited the house; not even to go into the yard. I don't have time for self-care. By the time I finish my work I'm too tired to journal or be mindful or do anything but sleep.

Applications, projects, essays. There's so much that needs to be done.

Now that school is at home, home is no longer an escape from school. I feel trapped. I am sustaining myself on tea and rapidly diminishing determination.

I've had more panic attacks in the last two weeks than I've had in nearly a month before that. It's physically awful to be shaking, nauseous, sweaty and unable to breathe; and I see myself as weak for caving in to the stress so often. It's as if every panic attack adds to a rising baseline level of general panic.

And even when I finally get to bed, I can never sleep. My brain keeps me awake; I'm too tired to address it, and too awake to sleep. When one's insomnia worsens, so does everything else. I've had more maladaptive daydreams -- I submit to the disorder more often than usual to cope.

It's so hard for me to focus in class as a result. I'm just so tired. But what bothers me about that is that it's not me. I'm the good student, the diligent studier. I'm not the one who spaces out and makes ridiculous mistakes. I know the four points I got off my quiz today aren't much. Four percent doesn't make a difference. But I should have known these things.

And that's just school. Yesterday, my grandmother got a major surgery for her cancer. Two more cancer drugs to go; and she's elderly in the midst of a pandemic: the worst time to recieve chemotherapy. I'm so worried about her. She's so unsafe and I can't stand the thought of anything happening to her. Waiting for the operation results is agonizing.

I feel incredibly guilty. I haven't called her on the phone lately; nor have I helped out my stressed parents. I've been too stressed and overwhelmed myself to do either of those things. So now I'm just a selfish burden. I feel awful.

This weekend we spend a week of school in a different state after a fifteen-hour drive to go see her. I want to help take care of her, but I'm afraid of the change. In a small space where we're staying, since it's only a week, I won't have any time alone or any space to be by myself. I do not like change, not during this stress. It's a scary trip for me. And of course, I'm so scared for my grandma. But then, how pathetic is it that I'm worrying about me?

School and personal things are too much for my weak self to handle right now. I'm ready for cancer to be cured and for the pandemic to end: and don't both of those sound so outrageous, so unlikely, so utopian? I am just so, so lonely.

I suppose it would help to try to focus on positive things. So, here we go focusing on the positives. I suppose it's good that I've picked up piano again. It's a good way to relax, and it's help me come to terms with some difficult past memories. I'm not very good, but I enjoy the music. (Still thankful to @LadyOracle for that.) At least I'm quarantined with my sister, whom I enjoy talking with. There's someone, at the very least; not to mention my dog. And I'm now elected class secretary, which is good news in that it means not everyone in my grade has forgotten about me; I'm excited to be in the position. All positives, I suppose.

I'm sorry for the angry nature of this post. I really needed to release a lot of these goings-on somewhere.

Thanks and take care, Inky