Thursday, July 30, 2009
I've been looking forward to the end of this term since the very beginning, and now that it's over I don't really know what is going to happen in the next week and a half. My entire summer revolved around classes and assignments that were due -- that's how I kept track of the days, but now there is nothing to fill my calender....hmm.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
But this time, I was in class with my wonderful cohort waiting for class to start when I felt the subtle approach of....anxiety. My first instinct was to bolt. Just leave the room and start walking somewhere. But class was going to start in a few minutes, so I sat still like a good student and hoped that after a few deep breaths it would pass. But it didn't. We're running on four hours now with no sign of relief.
Anxiety attacks really cause three main reactions: (okay, so they may not be reactions per se, but they are urges.)
1. I need to run. Or do something else incredibly active just to release the pent up energy and hopefully scare away the anxiety blues. I usually feel trapped and claustrophobic so the best thing for me is to get out somewhere and just run.
2. I suddenly feel a great need to organize and straighten anything and everything within sight. This is bordering on OCD. I think it's a need to have some control over something in my life, so I'll clean or organize my room, your room, my shoes, files in the computer -- you name it, I'll organize it.
3. And finally it's the desperate desire to either cry or scream at the top of my lungs. When I first started getting these attacks, the reaction was almost always to cry. And cry I did no matter where I was -- the dining hall at school, the bathroom (if I could make it there before the waterworks started), or in the lounge of the resident halls. It really didn't matter where I was because anxiety would crash down on me with almost no warning.
And now here I sit, neither running, or organizing, or screaming/crying. But the energy still courses through my veins, and my heart is still pounding, and it still feels like my stomach has become home to the pit of dread. The only thing I can do is ride it out. Another few hours maybe? Who knows...
She glanced up to see how much further she had to go and saw two sets of doors at the far end of the hall. They were closed off with yellow tape and the narrow windows were covered with paper. Her stomach rose as a tingling sensation started in her throat and spread throughout her body in a matter of seconds. “Get off her. Let me finish the job.” Her breathing came in quick, sharp gasps; and sped even faster as the beat of her heart picked up speed. As quickly as the tingling spread throughout her body, a wave of absolute numbness followed, paralyzing her body. She tried to look away, but her neck forced her to stare excruciatingly through the tape-covered doors at the scene within the gym.
Yup, here's another one. Although, this is much closer to publication than the other teaser. Samantha is in a wheelchair. Judah and Cameron are...well, you'll just have to find out about them. Enjoy.
Monday, July 20, 2009
One, two, three, she mentally counted his receding footsteps and let her breath out through tight lips. As tempting as it was to turn around and glance at his retreating back, she let her feet carry her forward without thought. No idea, she mused; he has no idea. The thought was smug as she remembered the last two months and the ordeal it caused. It was only slightly ironic that he had no idea just how much he had been in the center of it all. In the lion's jaws unknowingly, eh? Well at least there is no need to involve you in past dangers. It's a moot point now anyway. She took the next left corner purposely, walking into the alley without a second thought.
You hooked yet? Well good, that's the point. But unfortunately, you won't find out anything new until it comes out in paper form. Preferably hard-back, but I can't afford to be picky at this point. I could let a few more details slip through to the blog world, but it would only frustrate you more....
Friday, July 3, 2009
And yet here I stand, 5'2" and the only stretching I've done is horizontal (as evidence in my discreet stretch marks). I don't get it. Why is there no escape from lingering baby fat? I stay active, played sports all my life, and I've never been what anyone would consider 'slim'. I am not about to beat my body into submission to fit the standards of society; however, I do ponder what it would be like to look like one of those girls....to never have to try hard to look absolutely amazing. There are girls who can roll out of a sleeping bag after camping for a week and still somehow manage to look refreshed, adorable...appealing. And yes, I envy those girls. There's no shame in admitting that. I just can't see how they manage such wonders.
And I never will.