I feel like I’m drowning.

I know I’m a drama queen, but I don’t see any point in lying about how I feel on Nine to Phive. Especially when hardly anyone reads this blog since I’ve gotten so lax about updating it. No one will be fooled, if you know what I mean.

A Muse performance at ELEV8 conference this year. I thought it was sufficiently depressing.

Maybe it’s because I now have an IC flareup for two weeks out of the month. Every month.

Maybe it’s because I’m scared to death that I won’t be able to keep a full-time job, let alone a job in the highly impractical field that I love.

Maybe it’s because I’ve had to take a 19-credit load this semester just to graduate on time (barely). Oh, and those extra credits? They cost me $800 of over-enrollment fees.

Maybe it’s because two of Muse’s biggest performances of the semester are over and I don’t feel relieved. No less busy. No less stressed. No less out of breath.

Maybe it’s because, after two and a half years of marriage, I feel like I should have worked out so many of the selfish struggles that my newlywed friends seem to have no problem with after just a few months.

Maybe it’s because I feel guilty turning to my family for support when they’re struggling just as much as me right now.

Maybe it’s because I love God, love my church, and love my brothers and sisters in Christ, but can’t find the time or energy to invest in my personal spiritual life.

Maybe it’s because I want more than anything to write freely–stories, poetry, journals, grocery lists, bucket lists, this blog–and I can’t even find time to do my required writing for class.

Maybe this is my life now.

Keeping my head above water. 


I thought graduating this spring would feel like a weight being lifted, but as I approach commencement with all of this and more baggage (some of which won’t disappear the moment I walk across that stage), I feel as though it’s just a doorway into different and heavier weights pressing down on me.

Pressing down on my lungs . . . 
On my heart . . . 
On my spirit . . . 
I’m broken . . .

Drowning . . .

Oh, and a drama queen. There’s that, too.


5 thoughts on “Drowning

  1. Girl, you should check out goodwomenproject.com there are a lot of posts there that are very relatable. my unprofessional, friend-to-friend advice is to make sure you take time for yourself! and spend time with jesus. sometimes that means priorities need to be shifted…but if it pulls your head above water…it'll be worth it. ❤ praying for you!

  2. We are sooo related~ my last semester, lead in the play in addition to a truckload of other leadership positions on campus (yearbook editor, Religious Life Director, RA to name just three), overload on English Lit classes to graduate on time (had to write a letter for permission to take classes out of sequence and overload, changed the 'ol major too many times), working PT, not enough sleep and getting sick all the time, not enough time for friendships, watched my As turn into B+'s, and at the time that was HORRIBLE (when in life it doesn't matter one bit). It feels like soooo much stress and in a few short years you'll look back at it as some of the best days of your life–which people tell you at the time and you think they just do not understand and you want to smack them. Accept your limitations: physically, mentally, emotionally, socially. We Crosbys are not super-human and must spend a lifetime fighting the spirit of perfectionaism within us that denies our humanity/imperfections. You and I, we overcommit and overextend. We'll wrestle with it forever, I think; maybe it's related to our varied interests and many abilities the good Lord gave us.This is but a short season in your life and the 8 weeks will be a blur. T-r-y to enjoy the journey not just the outcome. We'll be praying for you absolutely, we love you, and I love sharing DNA with you!!!! :o)P.S. You stills write real good. Enjoyable post to read, even though topic is a toughie for you.P.P.S. Me likes what dat friend of yours done rit.P.P.P.S. Ain't shur 'bout this profile thang? It's Aunt Kathy if something doesn't print…

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