Overwhelm: noun

All of the worries and cares and
decisions
and deadlines
and plans pressing in compressing
under pressure about to implode
The unknown
Anxious for the abstract of tomorrow
and with a schedule so full I’m forced
to take it one day at a time
but always striving to stay
one step ahead
I can’t help but feel that my mind is behind and
I’m caught catching
up.

I can’t say how much I hate
when people say they’re busy
because all I can think to say
is you want to hear about my week
and they say wow
I thought I was busy
and I say yeah
I know
Today was the first day since
August
I haven’t had either school or work.
And here I am stuck to the screen, caught
catching up.

It’s like I’m being drained
slowly but steadily
restrained by dates and
complaints
They say it’s called decision fatigue:
Noun.
The tiredness induced
by a thousand little choices
can be greater than a single life-changing
one.
Except what if the little ones
also change
your life.

Overwhelm.
Noun.
The feeling of drowning.
A tightness in your muscles
and your mind.

 

UPDATE: I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. I am currently a full-time high school student. In addition to classes, I spend Tuesdays and Wednesdays after school volunteering in a couple different capacities, and work seven-hour shifts Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. So basically the only time not already blocked out is Monday after school and Saturday morning, which I fill with homework and meetings and figuring out all of the other fun things seniors need to figure out. I thought I was doing fine, until I realized I wasn’t.

1. I have no flexibility or opportunity for spontaneity. If my friends say hey do you want to go see a movie tonight, the answer will always be no. I had to consign my sister twenty minutes on her birthday, and that required going to work late, but that was the only day it could work, so that’s what we did.

2. I make it work, but I’m tired all the time. This is not good for me, and it is not good for the people who have to deal with me. ‘Nuff said.

3. Most importantly, though, it means saying no to basically everything but those few things. I’m so locked in on those few things that I’m neglecting basically everything else, especially the people in my life who are actually the most important part of it. And I mean seriously, I’m working at a frozen yogurt shop. Like it’s a job, and I’m doing it to save for college. Oh, yeah, I gotta save for college. But when even my dad, who’s really anti-debt, goes listen, it’s okay, it’s not that much money anyway–and believe me, he’s right–he has a point. Even one of my friends was like hey, you know friends are more important than work, right and I was like OUCH because she is so right and I really, really miss them. I really, really do.

Basically, the upshot is that by trying not to miss out, sometimes you miss out on what really matters.

A few weeks ago before I started realizing any of this, I put in a new availability so I’ll work more during the week (i.e. Monday) and not Saturdays, most of the time, so in a few weeks that will kick in. Maybe that will be enough, but I’m thinking about taking an extra day off because not only do I not see friends or family but I’m also missing out on my senior year. This is the last one. And I want to be able to say I at least made something of it. So something’s got to change, I think.

So that’s where I’m at. Thanks for listening, guys.

–Bre

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Published by

Breanna Joy

Once upon a time, in a far-away land, there was born one chill wintry day a lass who would come to be called Bre. She grew up whiling away the time upon myriad pursuits that would one day shift from pursuits to passions; creative, curious, and mischievous, she loved to read whatever she could manage to get her hands on (in particular novels, those of plot complex, world intriguing, and characters remarkable) — and read she did! She devoured words with so fierce a joy that she grew skillful in wielding such words as her own — story, journal, article, post and poem alike. For other arts, she also nurtured admiration. She loved in her heart the beauteous sound of music and the power it held over emotion and spirit. And she would work with her own hands to sketch and to paint and to correct and to create. One of her deepest passions was the stage, where she would take on a character as if an article of clothing, and live and breathe in another’s skin. In addition, the stories of times past and cultures distant enraptured her fascination, and she dreamed of one day venturing to explore these unknown lands. But these, these were nothing to the true heart of her soul. She found for herself a motley band of what can only be called friends–though some of whom were, truth be told, far more than that to her. They changed her being and resided in her heart. And so she lived, and loved, and dreamt. She dreamt of adventure and beauty and song and story and love and laughter. But far beyond anything else, did she strive with love toward her God. For this was her own great quest, or, if you will, her part in His own great story: to love those in the world, as He had loved her, when she had not loved Him–indeed, when she had turned from Him, hid from Him, rejected Him and ignored Him–He loved her enough to die for her. And so, because of this great love that now burned like a fire inside of her, a blazing beacon, she strove for a life lived in a beautiful harmony to Him who gave her a second chance. As she grew, she became confused, and doubting, and weak, and afraid, and unclean, and she would forget, and go to the world that was pressing at her to give in, in an attempt to satisfy her emptiness, though it would always leave her wanting. But always she would return, and be whole and filled again, made complete and beautiful in her soul. Storms would come and battles would rise; she would be tried and tested in many ways, and even so the story continues, but know ye this–He held her and led her all her days, and in the end, He would bring her to His own happily ever after.

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