I couldn't go to school today. Woobie woke me up at 12:00, giving me enough time to get ready and go. I got up, my stomach churning. I ducked outside to the washing line for undies and a pair of jeans. I had a quick shower, face, hair, perfume, books, bag, keys. Ready. Inexplicable fear. Bowels threatening to give way, I dash to the toilet.
What is it? Why can't I do this? What is stopping me? I can do the work, I'm interested in the class, I like the lecturer he's a great guy. But I'm in third year and I don't know anyone. Everyone around me is talking and chatting. Planning and welcom-ing back after the long vac. Stranded I don't know where to look, where to put myself, how to stand. Forget after such a long break to come to class a minute or two late, creep in sit at the back, avoid all that. Forget to bring a jumper, coat, anything to drape over the back of the seat, an attempt, a means, some way to cover to mask my bulk in the too small seat.
Sit too far forward, have to pass too many handouts back, turning, shifting in my unforgiving seat, clothes buckled and riding up. Ill-chosen skirt and jumper, a compromise between a school day sandwiched between a working day. A friend, babies lost, passed away; mourning, contacted minutes before class. Tears and pain, the anger of a life governed by unseen, unheard rules. Mind distracted by the events of a weekend from hell. A much loved cat taken by a sudden, cruel and mysterious illness. Close, close friend annexed interstate grieving and needy. Stuck now in a close, sterile room. Crowded in from all sides by the burden of things that have to be done, bound by the necessary, the required.
It can't last. I am not able to control my thoughts. The sadness gone by, sitting unhappily in its proximity to this place. I can't hold on to the thoughts flowing in the room. I am called upon to absorb the esoteric ideals of imformation science and categorisation of such. I am lost and alone. Feel now the familiar urgency of anixiety. Hot and ill-at-ease I can think of nothing else but escape. My eyes are watering and unfocused, palms hot, sticky. An age passes before he calls a break - technical difficulties. Reconvene in 15.
I am gone in a second. Walking quickly, through the crowds of first years near the free beer and hamburger tents.
But that all happened last week. Today, a new day a new week. Yet the same old reluctance to "just go" to university classes. The fear of group situations, of having to speak to people divided already into their little groups. Tutor assigned groups of people who want to be with their friends, not anywhere near me. Grouped always with those inept at English or the perpetually absent class member, a name and a number, source of faculty income. This on the days when I can attend. Vastly and vigorously outnumbered by those days which I am house bound by fear and self loathing.
Yet in my day to day life, separate from the pressure to attend uni, I am happy and well adjusted to my life. It is only under the concentrated gaze of pressure and expectation that I falter and aquiesce to my fears. What scares me the most is that I know what it is. I can't live up to my expectations of what I should be, what I want to be, but which I have accepted that I can't be. Yet on campus all of this seems to matter. Too many 20 somethings, who look good and are comfortable with their bodies, their lives, their place. I feel constantly inferior. I can't seem to fit. Defeated by my fears I fall farther and farther away from any hope of finding a place, so each new semester, or even just each day is a battle to not give in to it.
I don't usually win.
Each class has seen me happen upon the notes and resources I need. A clear and willing memory has saved me, and even though my attendance records are woeful, my marks distinguish me. This is some consolation.I just hope that next week I wake up feeling clear and strong, able, and not dwelling on the hours to come. I know it can be like that. It has been, it can be again. I wish I knew how to make it happen. I am declaring a stress-free week. No anxiety, no pain, no dwelling. I can only try.
Helped along by:"Indigo Girls", Indigo Girls, and "Lounder than Bombs", The Smiths.
God I can't let go of the 80s.