When I'm stressed I need space - not always to be alone, which is a plus for Clover being here - but I definitely need space. So having this week be American College Roommate week has been really hard. Today I needed to just cry for a while but didn't want to draw attention to it, so I had to do it in the loo, which felt incredibly strange.
She was in Paris from Tuesday to Wednesday but I still couldn't get myself to actually work on the dissertation in active way; most of my work was passive background. I don't know, when I tried to do more my stomach would turn over until I was nauseated and crying. I think having my birthday and Clover visit within one dissertation slot (between a meeting and a deadline/another meeting) was just too much for me this time around. I got lost. Plus, I was feeling so nerve-wrecked by my other coursework (much of it group work) I felt I had been ignoring that I really just had to do it. I still have much of it left, but I feel closer to the target with that.
It was just a bad time for the dissertation when balancing life, coursework and my mental stability (or instability, as the case is). I know it's not a permanent thing. I'm sure some things will settle down next week when Clover is gone.
I still dread tomorrow's meeting with Nick-the-supervisor. I've never come to him with so little; I am ashamed. I also know that he couldn't possibly beat me up more than I have beat myself up unless he punches me with a fist, so I shouldn't dread my time with him more than I dread the time within my own mind. It's still painful and frustrating to have disappointed myself; I have honestly never felt this disappointed in myself, academically if not in general.
Clover also saw me cranky today. I usually try to keep that away in real life interactions, especially as we've only been friends for a few seasons.
Today I brought Alishia-the-old-housemate's Christmas lights up to my room since I'm the only one who ever turns them on when they're on the stairs; I don't think anyone will mind. I'm hoping the low lighting will calm my nerves and mind. I've always loved low lighting/faerie lights. Mainly I'm hoping that tomorrow after the meeting I'll feel better and more capable, rather than filled with dread.
Ack, shucks. I really want to use the loo before bed but Pirate is downstairs boinking a girl who seems rather vocal about her enjoyment. I already had to go down the other day during similar activities and bang on his door to lower the music volume; I'd rather stay away from his room during those times now.
Here I am, trying to stay sane. Now I'm going to curl up with my blanky and teddy bear in my land of soft lights and hope that I can catch a few hours of sleep. I still think that Nick will know I'm a mess as soon as he looks at me. Four weeks. I have four weeks. My brain is torn between wanting to work until I faint and wanting to cry until I'm dry. Darn you, brain, please start working again!
"The bluebird sings a lullaby; the firefly gives a light; the twinkling stars are candles bright; sleep, Faeries all, Good Night."
[Elizabeth T. Dillingham; "A Faery Song"]