Imagine the fourth movement of Beethoven's 9th Symphony; imagine the gentle rise of the orchestra, until choirs of angels begin to sing in harmonious jubilee:

"More joyful sounds!  Joy!  Joy!"

-+-

“I know God won't give me anything I can't handle. I just wish he didn't trust me so much.” 

- Mother Teresa

-+-

A single teardrop rolled down her cheek.

It was the stuff of movies.  It was the ambient lighting of the room, the sun struggling to peek in through the window blinds.  I glimpsed at the shadows of leaves shaking in the wind, and it was as if they were dancing.  From my eyes, it was all just amazingly cinematic.  It was a vividly written novel -- the kind that keeps me turning the page. 

"I want you to trust yourself..." 

Then, it felt like time was passing rapidly, even though it must have only been a fraction of a second.  Life felt hushed, like it was waiting for something.  Something big.  Like it was standing on its tippy-toes in eager anticipation for the novel's denouement.

"...because I trust you."

With that, although the room itself remained dim, the world seemed a little more vivid.  The sun was somehow both brighter and a little less harsh on the eyes.

I rolled out into the town, more alive and more lucid.

I don't know much, but as always, when the skies feel like they are at their brightest, and the weight on my shoulders feels at its lightest, one reigning thought rang proudly in my mind:

"omfg I feel so good about myself, I feel like I can do anything, hell yeah, all y'all can suck my d--"

Then -- thank god -- I cleaned up my act a little bit by reeling it back a few notches, and bringing myself back down to earth,

and then I just remember how thankful I am to be alive.

From there, the rest always follows.  The good graces of life and love.

optimism, rejuvenation… l'etoile

Never thought I'd live to see the day
when everybody's words got in the way.

- Neon Trees, Everybody Talks

-+-

"Christa, you're very complicated. You're physically complicated, mentally complicated, and socially complicated."
-- "Ah!  Those are the components of the biopsychosocial model!  I am so ready for this Psych midterm."
"See?  Complicated."

-+-

I laid my belongings out on the table, carefully and meticulously.

It was uncharacteristic of me.  I am accustomed to the great art of "Throw my stuff everywhere without a single damn for the world."

But I had decided that morning that today ought to be different.  Today should have the lingering taste of change and growth scattered everywhere, like glossy pebbles on a weathered beach.  Even if that little change and that little growth is to culminate in the simple form of not throwing my napkins all across the table.

It was a short-lived affair, and since then, I'm admittedly back to the good graces of "Where the hell did I put my keys?" but nonetheless, it was a great prologue to where I am now.

I am lounging in my desk chair, with my feet stretched out on my study area, but most importantly --

I am chill as hell.

I have The xx playing on my iTunes, and I have powerpoints upon powerpoints open to study for another midterm coming up tomorrow.

I had actually been extremely concerned with my academics since the semester started.  Since my amazing summer came to a close, I found it impossible to concentrate on my studies.  Instead, everyday was just a blur of labwork and attending class, but nothing more than that.  I spent weeks behind on my readings and on my material, all because I suddenly lost the capacity to maintain enough focus to study.

Ironically enough, it was the stress implosion that fixed me.  The moment stress overtook me in a game-changing bout of organ mishaps, I was able to maintain focus on studying again.

Essentially, the reason is this: "I was worried about focusing when my body was on the verge of collapsing into itself?  Srsly?  I have way bigger fish to fry than this."

Since then, everything's been heading straight out of the park!

As far as my health goes, things have been going swell!  My doctor actually prescribed relaxation therapy for my stress, so since then I've taken a meditation class, and started meditating a few times a week.  It's actually been wicked effective!

I'm still off spicy foods for another few weeks, but the craziest part is that tomorrow will be Two Weeks Without Coffee.  My god.  I've transitioned into a compromise between my constant sleepiness and my anti-coffee craziness by drinking iced tea, so now I'm Iced Tea Girl rather than Iced Americano Girl at the school café.

Well, the night is getting long and I must study in the morning!

Until next time, then.

toodles!

I cannot overstate it:
I will be overjoyed!
That smile on your face, like summer!
The way that your hand keeps touching mine!

- Matchbox Twenty, Overjoyed

-+-

I am extremely tired.

Not mentally tired, like I usually am whenever I say that on this blog.  I'm not livid, not stricken, not sad.

I am, however, so ready to sleep.  As I write in my room, procrastinating the need to study, my bed behind me is a wicked temptress.  I perpetually want to nap; I perpetually want to roll around in my blankets, cuddle my pillows, and drift the merry travel off to dreamland!

Normally, this challenge would meet a very prompt solution: coffeecoffeecoffeecoffeecoffee!!

Nope.  Not this time.  It's not an issue of free will.  It's not an issue of weaning or addiction.

I'm physically not allowed to have caffeine.  

Why?  Well, that's my smooth transition into explaining that I've been back and forth from the hospital for the last few days.  I've apparently -- GET THIS -- stressed myself out so much that I caused spontaneous tears in multiple organ systems.  Looks like quick mental recoveries from recent panic attacks wasn't enough to adequately prevent spontaneous combustion!

Who on earth saw that coming?!  I sure didn't!  I had pain in my abdomen and thought that maybe I drank some bad milk or maybe I didn't cook my meat all the way for lunch!  Not THAT!!!  And I've always thought that I've been going through Normal People amounts of stress, not Tear All My Organs Up amounts of stress!!

Well, that diagnosis definitely happened, so doctors have been checking my bloodwork for internal bleeding (which so far all looks good!!!), and I'm on a regimen of medication that feels reminiscent of being in my 50's or 60's.  I've been requested to de-stress like crazy - relaxation therapy and classes, coping strategies, you name it.

I had to do a double-take as I sat up on the hospital bed, still reeling from the summary of my conditions.  I asked my doctor again, still in disbelief, "So you... uh... so you're saying that this could've all been induced by just stress?"  She nodded with sympathy.

Since then, my life is finally starting to get back to speed (although I definitely lost a lot of time, ughhh).  However, I'm strictly banned from spicy foods for a good month, but worse yet, I'm not allowed to have caffeine.  Among my symptoms, I triggered ulcers in my stomach and caffeine is acidifying.  *shudder*

So now, I am pooped.  I want to take a long, beautiful nap on my Genetics textbook.  Yesterday, I slept wicked early.  ...and got no work done omfg

bed so tempting

pillow why are you so soft and wonderful

ihu stomach acid

i want coffeeeeee

-+-

"I think you've been working too hard.  You know how I know?"
-- "How??"
"...I think you know how I know."
-- "'cuz mah organs failed 'cos I was too stressed out?"
"Yes, Christa.  Because your organs failed because you were too stressed out."
-- "WELL, technically, they didn't FAIL, they were just... operating at a, uh... sub-optimal level"
"When your organs aren't functioning as they should be, that means they've failed."
-- "Then... uhhhh..."

UHHH

But how long are you gonna make me wait?
And how long are you gonna hesitate?
'Cause I love the way we carry it on...
But baby, how long?

- Matchbox Twenty, How Long

-+-

“The line between normal and crazy seemed impossibly thin. A person would have to be an expert tightrope walker in order not to fall.” - Augusten Burroughs, Running With Scissors

-+-

I wonder if you get as nervous as me when I'm getting ready to see you.  I panic a little whenever I apply my eyeliner a little too much, or when my hair doesn't look just right.  Oh god, what am I going to do about these bangs?  I can't be seen like this.  Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

But it never really matters, does it?  Our faces always light up the same way whenever we first see each other.  You're always as easy on the eyes as I remember, and I can only hope that it's the same whenever you first see me.

...

-+-

I spent my Labor Day at a lab dinner... that wasn't with my own lab!  It was a gracious invitation that was an AMAZING culmination of how much I want to start mingling with all of the other labs.  

Their lab tech handed me the little toy mouse and joked, "Okay, show me how you kill your mice."

"Really?" I threw my hair back and laughed, "Okay...!"

In my hand, I ran my fingers up the "spine" of a little plush purple mouse with a feather tail - normally it was a beloved cat toy.  Today, it was my dissection model.

I verbally walked through my motions, "So you find the cervical vertebrae, and you pinch it between your fingers, and then grab the tail with your other hand, and you PULL!"  They laughed at my animated explanation, and the way that I punctuated every gruesome step with a basket of giggles.

This transitioned into a discussion where we all contrasted our own experiences of performing dissections on cats, frogs, and fetal pigs in our middle school and high school educations.  Namely, for those of us that are from California, we brought up how the animal specimens were always given to us already dead.  However, in France, students would be given live animals, and were responsible for sacrificing their own specimens prior to dissection.

"They don't trust us with killing them," I said, in a very manner-of-fact way.  The group all laughed, much to my befuddlement.

"Man," they shrugged, "only biologists could talk about this stuff like it's nothing."  I finally realized how morbid my statement was, and laughed nervously.

"Yeah," one laughed, "it's definitely a biologist thing."