And it’s funny how you find you enjoy your life
when you’re happy to be alive.

- Relient K, High of 75

-+-

"Good for you, Christa.  Good for you."

-+-

I am not going to pretend that today isn’t important. 

I am not going to pretend that today isn’t special, and I’m not going to pretend that today doesn’t mean anything to me.  There are things that necessitate pride.  There are moments that require deliberate ignorance.  Today is not one of those things, and today is not one of those moments.

To pretend that today doesn’t hold extra weight would be a misdeed.  It would imply six years of wasted memories.  It would imply six years of mistakes. 

And as much as I want to feel like it was all a mistake, I know better.  To believe that it was all a mistake would make it easier to forget that the whole thing ever happened, it would make today easier, and it would give me something to place blame on.  But I’m stronger than that now, and I’m not going to use today as a crutch.  I know now that I don’t need a crutch.  I don’t need to pretend that I’m too weak to last through the rest of today, because I’m not.  I also don’t need to pretend that I’m so strong that today won’t get to me at all, because that’s not true, either.  But that’s okay.  It’s normal.  It’s necessary for days like today.

So I’ll just go ahead and say it.  Today was going to be my six year anniversary with Phuc.  It feels like the elephant in the room, but I’m the only one in the house anymore.  But yes, that’s today.  And I’m not too proud to admit that today strikes a chord with me.  It’s interesting because “sad” isn’t the right word anymore, because I’m not sad.  Today is not a sad day, but it is unsettling.

It has now almost been half a year since the Break.  What strikes me the most is how I’m starting to forget.  I don’t remember what we did last year for our anniversary anymore.  I don’t remember where he was born.  I don’t remember which eyebrow his dragon hair is on.  I don’t remember the way his face looked when I walked into a room.  I don’t remember the way he said my name. 

I could make guesses, but the image is gone.  I used to have this memory, where I was visiting him in Davis one day, and when I got out of the car, he was running towards me and he looked so happy to see me.  In the memory, I could recall the details of his face and his movements; I could remember his clothes, I could remember all the things that he did in celebration when he finally reached me at my car.  I can’t anymore.

It’s different when you are blatantly and abruptly dumped.  You pray and you wish, day after day, to forget, because at the time, it seems like the only way that you could possibly move on.  Then you do, and then you do. 

But it doesn’t change that I care about him. I still wait anxiously for the day that we can reconnect and be friends again, if that’s even possible.  We’re dead to each other now, but I’m not going to pretend that we never happened.  He was important.  It was important.  It was important, but it’s over now.  I've grown, and I'm in a good place in my life now.  I really can't think of anything that would make me willing to trade what I have now.  And I don't remember the last time I was able to say that.  So I'm okay with it now.  I've seen our parallel lives over the last five months, and all I know now is that at some point during our relationship, he stopped being the person that I fell in love with.  I'm coming to terms with that now.

I told myself a long time ago that I would save these for today.  I decided this a long time ago, and I’m just following through now.  There is no huge weight to this, and I don’t feel like I’m a feather for unloading this.  It’s much more just because it's obligatory than being for myself, because it’s counterintuitive to progress.  But I told myself a long time ago that I would do this.  So okay, Past Christa.  You’re getting what you want.

So these are the last photos that Phuc and I ever took together as a couple, taken about a week before the Break.  He’s never seen these.  It’s funny, right?  In a way, we look so in love and we look like we’re on top of the world and nothing is going to take us down.  In another way, our eyes look sad, and I think, “Damn.  I should’ve seen it coming.”  

"Happy 28th!"

Damn.

She’s gonna dream up the world she wants to live in.
She’s gonna dream out loud.

- U2, Zooropa

-+-

"Are you feeling better, Christa?"
"Well, you know me.  I'm the comeback kid!" 

-+-

I’m back to dreaming about the lab, and that’s how I know that things are well.  When I dream of pipetting.

“As long as you enjoy asking the questions, then the venture will always be worthwhile.”

I realized that in spite of my overambitious nature disagreeing with my lack of superpowers, I still enjoy asking the questions.  I still enjoy the inquiry, and I still enjoy the process.  And I decided that it wasn’t time to throw in the towel.  I learned that these meltdowns are natural – “The reason that you’re so heartbroken is because you want it so bad.  You’re really dedicated, Christa.  Don’t doubt that.”

My workload decreased, and is now a little more average undergrad than research superhero extraordinaire.  I’ll admit that I missed the reasonable pace, rather than the six-hour sprints.  I’ll admit that as much as I want to be research superhero extraordinaire, I’ve needed this break -- a break to be human for a change. 

But there are a lot of complications in being human.  In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s in the job description.  People don’t really change, so I can say whatever I want, but I’ll still always be an over-thinker and I’ll still always be a worrywart.  And history always repeats itself, so life will still refuse to let me be comfortable (as it’s definitely proven time after time), whether that be by bestowing me with lab meltdowns, by making my cop partner move away, or by forcing me to go Sub Zero on canine Liu Kangs.  Balls to that backstory, btw.  Balls and testicles.

But I’m ceaselessly thankful for the adventures that are involved in being human.  The past two weeks have been nerve-wracking, but these little adventures have seen me through.  The adventures are everywhere – cute girly sleepovers, trips to the brand-new McDonald’s in town, sing-alongs in the car, trips to the boba shop to have dinner with Christa after her difficult few weeks at the lab, the formation of rescue squads to campus to save stranded students that need a ride home -- even just seeing friends in the halls of my university makes my heart leap out of my chest, elated at the opportunity to prevent transience and instead strengthen these valuable friendships. 

It's a repetitive theme in my entries, but it's because that's how crucial these tiny events have become to me.  Perhaps they are only miniature adventures, but to me, they’re the silver linings that make each of my days a day worth looking forward to, in spite of all of the stress, the confusion, and the second-guessing.  Every experience is a memory, and there are no exceptions.  As much as I now appreciate the boring, I don’t believe in dull days anymore.  I believe in the intricacies of life, and I do so wholeheartedly.

Perhaps it is all actually coincidence and there is no higher meaning behind any of these events.  I realize that to believe in otherwise is truly a matter of faith.  I may not be based in reality anymore, and maybe to someone else, I just look like a whimsical person engaging in wishful thinking.  There is no evidence to faith, and so faith can be just an illusion.  But this "path" I've dreamt up, whether it's fictitious or true, that's negligible now.  Because either way, the faith begets inspiration -- faith leads to ambition. And ambition begets action.  It drives me, and I value that.  It drives me to act, and that's what matters most to me.  That makes all the difference.

Before, I believed in coincidence.  Seeing someone in the hall was just seeing someone in the hall, and nothing more.  And that left me unfulfilled.  It left me passive.  It left me lost.  And that tore me apart.  My new outlook, this thing of mine that is nothing less than a sort of faith -- it tore me out of my depression and it pulled me out of my heartbreak.  It has transformed my loneliness to a wealth of friendship and support.  It has turned missed opportunities into seized ones.  And I’ve never looked back.

I hope I never do.

Now why do you wanna go and put stars in their eyes?
It's the same old story.  Well, they just didn't realize.

- Just Jack 

-+-

Starting to converse with people other than Starsky.

"Look, you can't let that get you down.  It's so easy for everyone in that field to be just so negative, but if you just keep worrying about everything, then you'll never get anywhere."
"But I'm a huge worrywart!  I worry about everything!  I worry if I'm going to enjoy the soup of the day!"
"See, Christa!  I'm the exact opposite.  As long as I have the essentials, I'm okay.  You can't worry about everything so much, or else you'll just get lost in all the negatives." 

-+-

Okay, universe. You owe me this.

Somehow, you've made me explode in the lab for two weeks in a row.  My ambition blew up in my face, and my first attempt at bouncing back blew up in my face even MORE.  And of course, it happens the day that I have to say goodbye to my best friend at Merced.

And then the day after that, I become sick, right before my Physics midterm.  That's right, the one that I didn't study for over the weekend so I could run those experiments that only ended up backfiring on me.  The one where I went, "Okay, I'm gonna run these gels, and then I'm gonna study for Physics ALL WEEK."  The only class that is holding a knife to the throat of my GPA.  But then when I try to study, I'm also resting and crying my nads off.

Then right after I bomb my midterm, I get an e-mail that just rubs a pound of salt deep into my wounds -- you already know that you did horrible work in the lab this week, but let me emphasize just how awful you were.

It actually doesn't sound that bad when I write it all out, but ughh, mainly it's my lab that's been stressing me out!  Every time I convince myself that I'm going to pull myself by my bootstraps, something else just punches me down again.  Just socks me in the face and gives me another reason to keep myself down.

Universe, you need to let me have this comeback tomorrow.  Because as far as I'm concerned, two weeks is the limit for blowing up.  One more week, and we're all going to wonder, "Man, what are we going to do about Christa in the lab?"  So I am going to go to the lab, and it's going to be great.  Okay?  Because I'm really sick of hating the lab.  The lab used to be the main thing that would get me through the day when I was getting over Phuc, and I hate that there's so much stigma now within those walls that I used to love so much.  I hate dreading the lab.  It used to be my favorite place in the entire world.  The days that I wasn't in the lab, I would go through cell culture withdrawal because I missed it so much.  

I want to go back to loving the science.  I want to go back to loving the way that my Eppendorf pipettes drew up reagents with perfect calibration.  I want to go back to being awestruck at photographs of embryonic stem cells.  I'm sick of being haunted by personal failure.  So I'm gonna go back to the lab tomorrow, and it's going to go well.  I am just going to swallow my pride, and suck it up.  I am going to go back to the science, and I am going to hit the ground running.  Okay?  Or else I'm just going to explode at how much everything sucks.  Oh my freakin' god.

I'm just thankful that I have friends and family that keep me sane.  

Oh dear god, keep sane, girl.

"Christa, you are the clumsiest, nerdiest, most scatterbrained person that I have ever met in my entire life."
"That's an exaggeration, right?"
"It's really not.  No.  You literally are.  And I used to feel like I was the messiest eater out of all my friends.  ... I don't feel that way anymore."
"WHAT, NOOOO! NOOOOOOOO!!"
"Aw, there's your turtle face! That's so precious."

-+-

I don't know if I'm ready for this.

My best friend at Merced is moving away today. He's going to pick me up and drive me to school, and that will be the last time I see him before he moves away.

Yesterday was our last time hanging out together, and today, I actually woke up feeling like a piece of me was missing. It was so strange, so unfamiliar, so subtle, yet so heartbreaking. It was like a part of me was just... missing. I feel like we were the stars of a buddy cop film, and I just lost the Chris Tucker to my Jackie Chan, the Starsky to my Hutch.  I couldn't help but lie in my bed and cry. I restlessly woke up early in the morning, hoping that more time awake would make time go slower and prolong the inevitable, that it would prolong our goodbye.

"Christa, what are you going to do when I leave?  Who else is going to go on adventures with you?  Who else knows all your faces and can call you out on all your bullshit?  But I hope that I built you up, and I hope that I left a good impression on you."

Every time he used to ask me those questions in the days leading up to today, I never knew what to say, because I really didn't know.  A partner in superhero work is a lot to lose.  We would assemble rescue teams to save damsels in distress, e.g. drive them home from the store when they missed the bus.  He taught me how to mobilize all of my, "Someday, I want to..."s and actually go out and just do it.  So we would travel together on spontaneous adventures, and explore the museums that I spent years longing for, or drive an hour just to retrieve him a jar of his favorite beef jerky.  

It was truly a friendship that was unlike anything that I've ever had in my entire life.  He was just such a cheerleader, and he would always try to build me up.  He taught me to never compromise my integrity and values, to realize that I'm an amazing girl and I should never settle for a "loser," to adore the person that I am and to never change for anyone else.  

"Never let a man determine your worth, Christa.  Only you can do that."

It wasn't until I met him that I remembered how I love to cook, how I love to bake, just how much I love cheesy things.  It wasn't until I met him that I felt like research was where I should be, and that I'm capable enough to pursue it.  I got to spend the last two months feeling like I was just the most amazing and unique girl in Merced, and I have him to thank for that.

Well, it's time to get ready.  Then in less than an hour, it will be our goodbye.

"What am I gonna do when you leave?!"
"Uh.... probably cry."

>_>; 

To think that I might not see those eyes
makes it so hard not to cry.
And as we say our long goodbye,
I nearly do.

- Snow Patrol 

-+-

"It really takes a lot to get Christa angry.  She gets much more... sad and bewildered than angry."

-+-

I'm back in the lab.

I'm back in the lab, and it's very different.  Instead of having five simultaneous experiments running at a time, I'm down to one at a time.  It's admittedly the average undergraduate task size, but it's been carrying the momentum of my feelings of inadequacy.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I go, "Is it because he doesn't think I can handle anything else?"  So basically, I get too much work and I have a breakdown, and when my workload appropriately decreases, I'm still imploding.

So I've been pretty out of it science-wise this entire week, and it especially sucks because I just announced to my laboratory last week that I wanted to pursue a career in research.  So all week, my thoughts have been along the tangent of, "Am I really cut out for research?"  I've committed a lot of second-guessing about myself, for the first time since I stepped foot in that lab.

Luckily, I have access to a wealth of support, so I randomly go to the other undergraduates in the lab, the other cohorts of my internship, or the other members of my teaching labs and just get on my soapbox about how I'm questioning my potential and my capacity for research, and everyone has been extremely supportive in getting me back to the path of passion.  

"Ugh.  Do you think I'm cut out for research?"
"WHAT?  Of course!  I think you're amazing.  And I'm not just saying that to flatter you, I really mean it.  I swear to god, after I joined this lab, I told my friends about this totally awesome, helpful, nice, and super smart undergrad in the lab.  Honestly, your enthusiasm is so immense, and your technique is great.  And you know so much about the lab, you're pretty much a walking textbook.  You're so full of information about everything about the lab.  You're amazing.  Bottom line.  End of story."

Even with all of the peer support, it's still a horrific feeling to actually dread coming into lab.  I felt like the walls were lined with my inability to perform research.  But it was extraordinary going to one of my graduate student's talks today, and she was just so elated to see me at her talk.  She just brightened up, and she even mentioned me during the talk.  And I was re-inspired as I listened to her talk, and I could speak this language of immunology and cell biology like it was the back of my hand.  The flow cytometry graphs flowed into the transplantation photos, and it spoke to me like the plot of a movie.  I was entranced, I was literally sitting at the edge of my seat, waiting eagerly to see the contents of the next slide.  I was in love with this science.  And I knew that her huge welcoming for me would not have happened had I been an inadequate scientist.  The passion is real.  The enthusiasm is real.  The dedication is real.

I used to think I was just being a huge pussy about my workload, but when I described it to one of my cohorts, he said, "You need to go to your mentor and tell her that your post-doc is giving you too much work.  You shouldn't be expected to do this much."  orly now.  But I've responded by dedicating my nights and weekends to the lab, so that I can dominate this independent project and prove my worth.  It is also the only way that I'm going to be able to finish this independent project and get enough time to study for my upcoming physics exam.  I am yet to determine if I am biting off more than I can chew, so we'll have to wait and see.  Or at least you will wait, I will instead be living in the lab.

I need this voice to go away that's telling me that I can't do this.  I am trying to hone in on myself from the perspective of others -- the people that witness me do research and see my love for the science.  The people that believe in me even when I don't.  The people that see the promise in me.  I need to realize again that I have the capacity for this.  There is no one in the way but myself, my own self-doubt, and pipetting error.

"Well, you're still a wondergrad to me!"

I need to get back to my confident state of mind, where I could aspirate with even more finesse than my post-doc, and I was able to keep up with even the most dedicated graduate students.  Where there was nothing but CD41 protein markers and sugar plum fairies dancing in my head, and nothing but T regulatory cells and irradiation on my mind.

Don't fail me now, cDNA.  Don't fail me now.

Words fall through me,
and always fool me,
and I can't react.

- Glen Hansard 

-+-

"I've never heard of anyone getting stressed out over cells before.  But hang in there, and keep smiling!"

-+-

One day, you're told that you can go anywhere.  You can do anything in the entire world, anything that you want, as long as you work hard and do good in the world.

The next minute, you're wondering if you're cut out for this life at all.  The moment that I decided to put my eggs in that basket, now I'm wondering if I'm capable of it.  I don't know if I can handle it, if I can keep up with it.  In this moment, with my heart still raw from the wounds of failure, still full of adrenaline and disappointment, I'm feeling worthless.  I'm sure that it's fleeting, god please tell me that it's fleeting, but I feel incapable of anything worth trying for.

"I apologize.  I just didn't want you to think I was an inadequate undergrad.  I apologize.  I should've been able to keep up with the workload."
"Oh, honey...  We all want to be the perfect reseacher, but we can't.  No one can.  We're only human."

I'm realizing now... that was probably the most I have ever cried since the beginning of summer, including the entire separation with Phuc.  For some reason, there was so much of my heart riding on those strands of RNA, that when I failed them, it broke my heart far more than any boy ever has.  

Because today, after weeks of barely getting enough time to breathe, I learned just how enormous are the expectations of me.  There are months of labor riding on my shoulders.  There are tens of thousands of dollars of reagents and cells, there is the success of a paper and the progress of an entire project, there is a man's career, all resting on my shoulders.  So I have to do these four experiments today, two experiments tomorrow in one hour, five experiments the next day in two hours, and then twenty other experiments on my own time?  So I have to learn this new technique on the day before my midterm, and if I miss that day or if I can't learn it in one day, then we have to cancel a month of experiments?

It just got so overwhelming, and I just broke down in the spectrophotometer room.  It was just so much to handle at once.  It was just so much pressure, and I caved.  I was just sobbing in front of the spectrophotometer, when my post-doc came back and found me crying, with my gloved hand shaking as it clenched desperately to my pipette, and my other hand struggling to close my test tube of RNA sample.

"Christa, it's okay.  You can stop."
"No, please let me finish this protocol.  I can do it.  I can do this protocol, I can finish it.  I can do it.  Please let me finish."

I just got so overwhelmed.  It makes me get cold feet.  Can I really do this?  Am I really cut out for this?  Am I not as amazing as I thought I was?  Am I being foolish to shoot so high?  To shoot for extraordinary?

-+-

"Christa, do me a favor.  Take a coffee for an hour, and promise me you will not study, okay?  One hour break, no studying allowed, okay?  No work, just relaxing.  Promise?"

Time lapse.  I'm realizing just how sad and pathetic I sounded, poor thing!  I've vented to people who have been very supportive and positive, and I've managed to get some time for recovery.  During that time, I looked into my past to drive me. 

If I've looked at the times that I've achieved success, it's pretty evident which attitudes pushed me on the right path, and which left me rotting in a hole.  And I realize that these are not moments to coddle my self-pity and to curl up in a hole.  I'm bummed out still, and I'm still so afraid, but these are not moments to nourish my sorrows and fears.  These are moments to bounce back, except even higher.  To do even better next time.  To efficiently handle the stress and exhaustion next time.  To not be too proud.  Challenge accepted.

Because even if I can't do this, god knows that I will fall trying.  Even if I'm really not cut out for this, I'm not going to give up on trying to fit in this puzzle.  Even if I'm not as amazing as I thought I was, there is still no reason to be any less than the best that I can be.

And so help me, if I fall, I'll fall trying to reach the stars.

Pace yourself from now on, poor girl.  Get your head in the game.  You can do this. ...  I can do this.  Or at least, after what happened today, I will keep telling myself that, over and over again, until I finally believe it.

I can do this.

I poached an egg today.  

It was my first time poaching an egg.  And it was amazing.  There is something very satisfying about piercing into a poached egg, and it's cooked perfectly.  The yolk runs with a fantastic consistency, and it's heaven on the tongue.  Tonight, it was my first time that my own labor led to that fulfillment.  There was just something extremely rewarding about that.  

I've been told that I find enjoyment in the smallest things, and one of those small things is poaching an egg perfectly.  I'm very happy to be able to cap my week with that achievement.  It reminded me of when I was young, when my big dreams included culinary greatness.  

Ironically, I actually had an enormous week outside of my perfectly poached egg.  It's actually a very miniscule detail of my week, but it still made me really happy and so I thought it was worth writing about!

But poached egg business aside, I've made a number of big decisions, and I've encountered a lot of serendipity.  A goodbye has been postponed, and I got to see the inside of the Merced Costco for the first time.  I've been constantly working in the research lab, and my evenings have been just as busy.  It's just been a lot of hard work, and I tried to take this weekend to catch my breath and take a break.  But that just means I have my work cut out for me this upcoming week.. just like every other week.  Whew.  It truly is a labor of love, but it's just so tiresome.

But I have my goals in the stars and in other worlds.  I will keep working hard, and it will pay off.  This is no moment to begin slacking off.  In fact, I have to pick up my pace.  I need to put it into overdrive.  I have to start building my spaceship, and chasing those opportunities.  I'm unsatisfied by my pace.  I need to keep working, and I need to keep working harder.

All in all, I didn't say very much today.  There's actually a lot on my mind right now, I could write for hours, but I have my priorities straight.  Among them: get enough sleep for my quiz tomorrow.

So I'll see you later, world.  It's a promise.

"You have to trust in something -- your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever -- because believing that the dots will connect down the road will give you the confidence to follow your heart, even when it leads you off the well-worn path, and that will make all the difference."

- Steve Jobs, who revolutionized the world with his brilliance

-+-

I hate it when you really want to perform an action, but you hold yourself back.  It can be the simplest action, like, "Should I say hi?"  But you don't.

It's not because you can't do it.  It doesn't matter how small the gesture is, but you're afraid of what would happen if you act.  Your restraint is based on inscrutable implications, because of unfamiliar social cues.  Nothing is really stopping you.  Nothing is actually in your way.  Instead, you're stuck in this weird tango with yourself, where you're dancing with your own overthinking, your bias, your fallacies, your perceptions.  Like always, it is a fear of the unknown.  It is a fear of consequence.  The consequence could be so small, so negligible, but you're so shaken by the unknown that you cannot move a muscle.

And before you know it, you've lost an opportunity.  You've lost a moment in time that you can never get back.  And you realize -- that was a moment where your life just branched off in two directions, and you grieve, wondering what would've happened if you only decided to say, "Hi."  You're left wondering about what path that could've taken you.  But you'll never know now.

After being caught in my pride and my fear, I lost a moment that I can never get back.  And now, I wonder.

I'm very tired of living a life like that.  I'm very tired of wondering about missed opportunities, about missed chances to change my life.  I've learned first-hand about the impact of tiny moments.  What if I never missed the bus that day?  None of this would have ever happened, the past two months would have never happened, if I didn't miss the bus that day.  I would've just sat on that bus to go home, completely unaware that I missed this entire journey.  I never would have known this enormous path that my life has branched off to.  It's made me change the way I think about everything, about every tiny decision and every tiny gesture.  Every decision, no matter how small it may seem at the time, has the potential to change your life.  

And yesterday, a collection of tiny moments led to an opportunity.  It may have merely been a number of small coincidences, but my relationship with life yelled at me, "You know better.  You know better than to brush this off.  This is a sign.  This is a moment in time where your life is about to go down two paths, and this is a sign.  Do not squander it.  Do not ignore it."  So I decided that I'm going to chase this.  I am going to drop everything else, and I am going to spend the next few months, the next few years chasing this opportunity.  And hopefully, the rest of my lifetime.  And I will never regret it.

"It's about time, Christa!"

Damn right, it's about time.

Stay hungry, stay foolish.

Sometimes, baby...
the hardest part of breaking is leaving pieces behind you.

- Kimbra

-+-

"Insatiable."

-+-

I am not one that disbelieves in fate anymore.

These past few months have turned me into one of those people that go, "Everything happens for a reason." I used to think that was bullshit. Coincidences are just coincidences, nothing more. But now, I believe it with every ounce of my being, and I see it everywhere.

I'm at the point where even if I just see a familiar face in the halls, that's not a coincidence. That is an opportunity for me to stop and brighten their day, to strengthen our rapport and reaffirm our friendship. Perhaps it even is a critical moment where they are having a terrible day, and I was meant to turn that around. But either way, it is always an opportunity for me to make my mark, and opportunities are not to be squandered. Coincidences, even if they are just truly something out of the ordinary, just don't feel like it anymore. All these little elements, all these little details that placed me in this exact place at this exact time... it's mind-boggling how many things worked together to bring me here. It always feels like everything is sewn together to drive me forward to where I'm supposed to be.

But there is always something that drives us. It can be a state of mind, it can be a dream, it can be a hope. It can be a person, or it can be a sign. It can be a thirst, it can be a hunger, or it can be a light. It can be an idea. But there is always something.

And these past few months, I have been flying down the highway at top speed. I left my weaknesses far behind me -- miles and miles behind me -- and every moment since, I have been feeling the wind against my face, I have been feeling every bump, groove, and pothole of the road beneath me... taking it all in. Just taking it all in and driving myself forward, everyday for months.

Then... October came, and I slammed on the brakes. I was on top of the world, until October. I realized it was October, and I just burnt out. Every moment of hard work was a labor of love, but I just burnt out. I burnt out for the first time since summer, since that day that getting better just got too damn hard. This time... the non-stop exams, the fourteen-hour work days, the people that keep leaving, the hearts that keep breaking, the friendships that keep ending, the conflicts that just won't stop, the sicknesses, the expectations, the guilt, the grief. But especially... the 28th of this month. God, the 28th of this month. It really gets to a girl at some point.

"Christa... I think you put too much pressure on yourself."

But the interesting thing about having your foot on the break... is the ease in getting back on the road. All you have to do is let go. It just takes one lift, one pull, one moment, and you're moving forward again.

The only thing that holds you back, is the hesitation. You need courage, you need faith. You need what drives you.

When I burnt out Sunday night, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what path I was on anymore, I didn't know what to follow. I just knew that I needed to keep moving. My heart was frozen in hesitation and anxiety, and my foot was bound to the brake. But I needed to do something.  I needed to keep moving, but to where? I was lost in hesitation. I was lost, I was lethargic, I was empty, I was hopeless. I felt like I had absolutely no power.

Then there was a sign. It was counterintuitive to progress, but everything, the way everything fell together... I could not ignore the conviction that it was nothing less than a sign. It pointed towards a wary woods, but it drove me. I may very well have driven myself into hurt, into regret, into idiocy, but I found a reason to just floor it. And I am moving again because of it. And in spite of everything, I am thankful for that.

We're hardly four days into this month, but it's already been just hard as hell. It is a long, winding path down rough roads.  I feel like heartbreak is on my tail, and I always feel like I'm about to fall off a cliff.  This month will be difficult.  It will be full of disappointment, it will be full of sadness, it will be full of stress and overthinking.  But I will make it.

The good part is that I truly believe that things will be better after October is over.  Pain heals.  Hearts recover.  You fall down, then you get back up.  I will endure whatever this month has to throw at me, and I will fight back, every second of the way.  And if I get hurt trying, I still know that I will heal.  I have no doubt about it.

"You'll be fine, Christa."

October, I'd ask you to be kind to me, but I know better than that.

So instead, I will tell you this:  Bring it.  

I am dreading this month, I am dreading everything that this month has to offer, I am dreading every single day of this entire forsaken season, but I will say that I'm actually... not afraid.  It'll hurt, but I know I'm going to make it.  It will be heartbreaking, and it will suck, but I am not afraid.  I will take you on.  So bring it.

Good to see you too, October.

I’m up, with an electrical storm of thoughts and impulses racing through my mind.  Normally, as of late, I’ve been knocking out by 11 PM.  This new bedtime has been worrying me on multiple levels – am I going to get enough time of studying for my upcoming exam season, and am I becoming anemic again?  But it’s past midnight, due to the gratuitous use of Rockstar: Energy + Juice.  But my mind is racing a mile a minute, and no amount of staring at hopanoid structure is going to quell this hurricane of thoughts.

This is the week.  I feel uneasy.  What do you do when the sun is blinding your eyes, when the stars decide to revolve around you?  You never asked for the podium.  You had no particular desire for it, and you were very content outside of the limelight.  Yet there you are, in front of the crowd.  They’re waiting for you.  Hush, the crowd goes quiet.  They’re on the edge of their seats now.  What’s going to happen?

I’ve lost track of time.  I don’t know how far in the season we are.  Is it the season premiere, where everyone can stop holding their breaths and relax, knowing that we’ve got a good few more months of solid, predictable writing?  Or is it sweeps, where the entire direction of the show changes and the unexpected happens?  Or is it the season finale, where no one will ever find resolution and satisfaction, and everyone is left holding their breaths for what seems like forever?

I was very close to falling into the old weaknesses… the weakness where my fingers search for that name in my address book, longing to say anything, anything at all, to fish for life, to fish for a sign that I still exist, somewhere in that desert of barren memories.  Then I heaved a sigh, and sat on my bed, restless.  I had to say something.  Something.  Something.

So I turned here, and now I’m just vomiting whatever comes to mind.  I have to fight it.  Shit.  God, why am I so restless?  Tell me, my three cans of Rockstar and two cups of coffee.  So perhaps I overdid it on the eve of my Microbiology midterm.  And now it’s proven counterproductive.  Now I can’t sleep, and my thoughts are forming so rapidly that even my individual neurons feel jittery.  I want to walk around outside, but it’s almost 1 AM and I’m not a fan of being mugged.  I don’t get it, though.  It’s not like I am even sensitive to caffeine.  What is in you, dear Rockstar?  Please, tell me your secrets, so I can hone this restlessness towards productive study time.  Dear friend, you have stabbed me in the heart.  You are keeping me up successfully, but now I cannot focus on the task that should be at hand.  Instead, I’ve invented new tasks, new problems, new questions, new weaknesses, new answers.

But whoever are the writers for this show, my god.  Bravo, for this is riveting.

...

And then, an interlude, a fight and a scream-match among the crew, and now it's all out of my system.  Vomit can only occur so much until it gets on someone else.  And now comes the tumble, and the crash.  I'll be sleeping in both peace and regret.  But it is now a footnote.  Thank god.  I am now free to do whatever I so please, because now my mind is at ease now.  Brain, relax yourself. Next time, do me a solid and decide to sleep in.  The lazier, the better.  The less ambitious, the better.  Hopefully, this entire extreme caffeine high was a dream.  Loser is a loser is a loser.

Don't backfire on me, bro.  So help me!  Best case scenario: everyone moves on, forever.  Then no more problems.  HA!  Right.  Fuck.  What a joke.  Something in the stars is just not allowing me to be comfortable, sit back, and enjoy life for what it is.

So brain, don't be such a stupid bitch next time.