I started writing a post the other day in the midst of my paramedic schooling fog, and then I had to stop because the dog screamed out in his sleep, and when I finally went back to writing it, I totally forgot what the hell I was writing about, and nothing I had written made any sense whatsoever, so I had to hit delete and here I am.
My brain is mushy, like a nice big pot of Kraft Dinner left on the stove just a tad too long. My needs are many, such as more sleep, regular meals, less stress, and more time with my family. But I'm not complaining, although I'm sure it sounds that way. In fact, I'm happy. Really, really happy.
This program I'm in is beating my butt, but it hasn't got me down. Well, it does at times, I won't lie. Like last week, when I had to redo a couple of tests because I didn't lift people properly. I am too hard on myself, and I know it, and yet, I continue the self-harassment. In the back of my mind, there's always this little voice saying I'm going to fail, I'm not good enough, I'm too old, what do I think I'm doing...
I tell it to shut up, but it continues to harp, slowly winding its way into the centre of my full brain, attempting to convince me to give it up and do something easier.
So, although I spend pretty much 99 per cent of my time either at school or at home studying or reading, I'm loving it. I go to bed at night exhausted and sore, my belly full of painkillers and sleep inducers. But I wake up excited, happy, wanting to go on, wanting to learn, wanting to do it all.
I haven't felt this way in a very long time, and I have to say, it's a pretty nice way to be.