Stressed Out

Ahhhhh! Time for another venting rant. I am a horrible procrastinator and I feel like my perpetual bad habit is quickly catching up to me. I am going to graduate June 11th and right now I am feeling so overwhelmed with all the things I have to do before then. Tons of paperwork, volunteer hours, an upcoming externship and I'm still having difficulty getting blood from a vein. God, help me. It all fills so big today. Too big. I have too much invested to fail. I have to get through this. I know that I will and that a job is waiting for me on the other side but I feel so scared in this moment. In storytelling terminology we'd call this the Dark Night of the Soul. Every hero has that man (or woman) vs. himself/herself conflict where there's a crisis of confidence or conscience. It's that point in the story where the writer's thrown so many rocks at the protagonist that forward progress looks impossible. Often death looks imminent. The hero must rely on some innate, unseen strength to survive. Without that reserve, that spark the whole journey is lost. There is no character arc--no story. I feel the creeping tiptoes of the Dark Night of the Soul. I've been here many times before--when loved ones were dying or leaving, the countless moves, when I quit drinking. The three-headed hydra in the shadow is UNCERTAINTY. It always has been. Many people say "better the devil you know." I don't agree. Familiarity breeds trust or at least tolerance. We may not be crazy about our in-laws, boss or that bastard neighbor that is always giving us grief but those people and situations don't provoke the same fear as the unknown. Part of what makes something or someone a monster (or a devil) is that it is alien and threatening to us. The interesting part about the unveiling of UNCERTAINTY is emotionally it's usually a monster I've met before. She might have fangs or a bad Cockney accent but I recognize a family resemblance. :) I suppose if Jung or Joseph Campbell were alive they would tell me to heed the words of the Mentor and press on with my quest. My grandmother was the greatest oral storyteller I've ever met. She truly lived the hero's journey and kept a cheerful smile until the very end of her life. I remember how strong her pulse was as I held her hand. Hope was the mantle she gave me. No matter the darkness, she always found hope. Her words to me now would be to keep moving forward and to pray. She was a very brave woman. MaMa, I miss you so much.