It's been a long, a long time coming but I know a change gonna come

With the official countdown coming to a close of my 30th birthday, I feel as though I'm on the verge of something. That things are going to change - and in a big way. I've narrowed my pool of possible MFA schools to only those in Australia. I figure I've already done the UK thing and Australia rests better on conscious when I lie awake in bed at night.

This decision scares the hell out of me.

But in an effort to not put the cart before the horse, I'm trying to focus my energy on my portfolio because that is, after all, the most important component of my application. If they don't like my writing I'll be staying in Columbus for another year. Which also scares the hell out of me.

Australia aside, 30 is a big birthday. I'm leaving one decade behind and stepping over that line to the next one. I'm optimistic about my 30s. I leave my 20s feeling almost as bad and messed up as I did when I entered them, however I'm making a conscious decision to get it together. To stop living like I'm 21 and mature a little bit. This means cutting back on my alcohol consumption, staying away from smoking/smokers, exercising, eating well...to practice taking care of myself, something I've never been good at. If I continue down the path of bad habits the future looks bleak. When I think about what I could become, the future stretches out before me flooded with possibilities. Oh yes, a change is gonna come.

And as a matter of fact, Australia does tie into this personal change. I'm a creature of habit, a product of my environment. Take me out of that comfortable environment where it's so easy for me to be self-destructive and I'm an entirely different person.

One more thing, I've managed to knock off 18 items from my 30 before 30 list. Some just weren't physically possible, the others...well, they'll just carry over to the new 35 before 35 list.

Babies

My sister-in-law gave birth to twins this morning. Ethan weighed 6lbs 10oz and Layla weighed 5lbs. Nearly 12 pounds of baby increased our family by two this morning, making my brother and his wife first time parents, my parents first time grandparents, and my sister and me first time aunts. I can't wait to spoil the snot out of those two kids. Unfortunately they live about 2,500 miles from where I live so seeing them will be tough. It will be even harder if I jump ship and head to Australia like I have planned but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. All I know for now is that those two little babies are finally here and they are perfect.

Anxious

To give a person with chronic anxiety reason to be more anxious should be illegal. My brilliant doctor has been sitting on a script of mine for nearly two weeks. I've called him many times but he has still yet to call it in to the pharmacy. I'm actually going in to the office tomorrow to get the damn thing in my hand and then tell him to bugger off. You can't do that to a crazy person. All my meds are messed up anyway because they are so god awful expensive, the dosing is all wrong and - oh yeah - I don't even HAVE one of them. I'm going a little nuts but I think it's understandable considering my body chemistry is all over the map. All this work and effort just to make it through a day feeling relatively normal. I don't even know what normal feels like. My head hurts all the time. It's probably head cancer.

It's Tuesday ~ What do you want from me?

Remember when I was all rah rah Marathon 2009? Those were good times. I ran 1.2 miles yesterday and it felt great. It's a start. Neither good nor bad, but a start.

I'm trying to be contemplative. There's really nothing to be contemplative about at the moment. Good time for me start reviving this blog again, right?

Check back tomorrow. Something good is bound to come up.

Did someone say running?

It's a gorgeous day in my corner of the globe. I think that calls for a run. Did I say running was non-exisent? Was that me? Because that sure doesn't sound like something a runner would say. And I'm a runner. Watch out world. Kate's gonna run today.

From the abyss

I don't plan on making a habit out of leaving a 7 month gap between posts. A week went by then two...before I knew it I caught myself saying "Didn't I used to have a blog?" and here we are. A lot has changed since last we spoke, most of it for the better. I'm getting my writing portfolio together and going through the daunting task of applying to MFA programs, both in the US and abroad. And by abroad I mean the UK and Australia. I'm not sure what it is that makes me feel the need to uproot myself and spend large amounts of time in other countries for no good reason. I figure if I'm going to move for a graduate program, I'm going to move BIG. I suppose Edinburgh (again) or London or Adelaide or Melbourne would be pretty big moves, yah?

In other news, I'm employed again. When people ask what I do I try really hard not to say "I'm a receptionist. I don't do jack" because that sort of makes me sound like an idiot. But really, I don't to jack. I mean, work-wise. I read plenty of books, write papers, play around on facebook, you know, get the important stuff done. Then at 5 o'clock I pack my stuff up and go home to read books, write papers and play around on facebook. You may be thinking to yourself "that sounds really boring. Is she nuts?" and yes. Yes I am. If you've read my blog before this shouldn't come as much of a a surprise.

Running is non-existent. This will must change.

Tap, tap. Is this thing on?

Pardon me while I dust off this section of the internet. It hasn't been used in a while.

7 solid months of weekly (sometimes bi-weekly) talk-therapy has taught me one crucially important thing: man, do I have some issues! It seems as though every week another layer of the problem is exposed, another faulty way of thinking to address, more ways I constantly bring myself down are discovered. I think Anne of Green Gables said it best when she dramatically proclaimed that she was "in the depths of despair." The Dude pokes and prods, persists relentlessly until he finds where the scars begin. 7 months and I'm not quite sure we've even chipped the surface yet.

Needless to say, Christmas is bumming me out. I didn't bother to put up a tree this year or any other sort of decorations. I have no desire to sing "fa la la la la la la la la" or spend my nights watching the old Christmas classics I usually watch every year. I can't think about New Year's Eve without bursting into tears (due to scar tissue recently clawed at during a session with The Dude last week. I find it hard to imagine New Year's Eve ever being a happy night for me); I think I'll have a NyQuil cocktail at around 8:30 and call it a year.

I write this unashamed. Those of you that know me outside the anonymity of the internet may find this surprising, some may not. Depression is an illness like any other, not a mood and part of the reason I got to the "depths of despair" was because I didn't talk about it. Not to anyone. Now I talk to everyone, hopefully communicating the serious of this illness. Depression, anxiety, and manic episodes occupy my life at the moment as it probably will in spurts for the rest of my life. Meds help. So does The Dude. I believe if I hadn't quit my job when I did and been sent for help by my mother, I wouldn't be alive today. I praise God for this every day.

I'll quit being a Debbie Downer for the moment, if I may, and report good news. I ran a 5k on December 6th, ran every step and finished with a respectable time (though far, far from what I'm capable of). I have my 1/2 marathon training plan all worked out and scheduled to begin on February 9th for the Capital City 1/2 on May 2nd. Until I begin the training schedule, I've been running between 15-20 miles per week, about 3 or 4 of those miles with my good friend Jackie. Jackie has set a goal of running a 5k on St. Patrick's Day weekend and she's just as determined as I am as far as race goals go.

Running and good friends also help.