Busy and important

If my past self from 3 years ago thought her year had been busy, she would not believe what I’m doing now.

Every adult around me always told me it would get busier and busier as I grew older. And part of me refused to believe that. How could someone be busier than I already am, I thought. I had no idea.

Last year felt like a continuity of high school. Going to school all day, everyday, homework and weekly exams. This year feels like prépa. Like real, intense, 2e année de prépa. All of the above plus trying to stay on top of my work because of the stake of next year’s abroad semester, while finally embracing the student life: going out, getting to know other people more, making friends, going to dance class…

As if this wasn’t enough, add in my first small job as tutor, me trying to figure out how to access my bank accounts and re-enroll at uni, finding an internship for June, finding a university abroad where I will spend nearly 6 months of my cursus, travelling with my family, joining a club (who volunteered to spend lunch breaks making crêpes to raise funds? That’s me) and keeping in touch with my high school friends.

Let’s say that 16 year-old me balancing dance, getting a driving licence and high school had no idea. That little 17 year-old me balancing that huge dance project and Vietnam trip with the bac and finding a career path had no idea.

I’ve been on holidays for three days now and we are leaving to Prague tomorrow morning for four days, then a weekend and school starts again. No rest for the wicked, huh?

Thoughts on sharing

Let’s start by saying that the past weeks have been pretty full emotionally speaking. I didn’t know how I felt nor why, and I was lost. Lots of things happened around me and affected me just how rain soaks everything in a downpour.

However, I was raised as a stubborn child by stubborn parents (hi mom that’s you) and someone I know once wrote « I refuse to be wasted away because my brain says so« . It has become my motto when things start to get tough (not that I go through particularly hard times but I believe it’s all relative to a person). So I refused. I refused to let myself slip into this gloomy mood and I refused to destroy myself tiny bits at a time.

I emailed the school counselor, got an appointment the day after and showed up. I talked and shared and cried. Then I shared that experience with someone else, and things got easier.

But then it all went down again and I found myself (freshly put back together) having to handle someone that was (and still is to this very moment) actively trying to destroy themselves, big chunks at a time.

I didn’t know what to do, because not everyone was raised a stubborn child and each of us are shaped differently by life. So I shared again. I talked to a friend who had survived and put the chunks back together and they helped me understand. I talked to another friend involved and shared my fear. I wrote another email to an adult-in-charge. I sent out messages in a bottle because I didn’t want to bear that burden alone. And it felt better to know that I wasn’t going to go through this alone. And that’s what I wish that person understood.

You are not alone.

I smell of smoke

Last week was my first week of holidays since I had last taken a break from school and work. After the spring break, I went back to school, had my finals, another week of finals, and then jumped straight into my internship in London. In a microbiology lab. This is to say that even if I was not in school, I was still learning, focusing, walking around all week and more on weekends to visit. Basically I did not rest.

I fell sick the last week of the internship. By sick I mean, REALLY sick. I-can’t-stand-up-more-than-10-minutes-sick. I still carried on, went to the lab (which wasn’t really smart considering some rooms had to be sterile but again, opportunity of a lifetime), took the Eurostar back to France, spent my evening doing the laundry and unpacking, re-packed the next morning through coughs and sneezes and took the train back to the south of France to meet my family in a seaside camping.

Let’s say I crashed. Properly crashed. Slept 13 hours on my first night and almost as much the next days. I would be exhausted by 6pm, having awoken at noon. I felt sluggish and was still recovering from my mysterious flu (which my supervisor renamed the Hong Kong flu).

A week has now gone by, and I’m in another part of France, surrounded by my family and resting in our old house. Everything feels so frustrating. My mind is buzzing with ideas and projects, but every time I want to actually start doing what I wanted to do for months, I procrastinate, it doesn’t work out as I want it to, I feel impatient, too lazy.

And it kinda sucks?? Because back to school is in less than a month now, because I know it will be a challenging and busy year (to say the least) and I know I will have to set priorities. And the things that are going to be put aside are things I could be doing right now! But I don’t.

Is this burn out? Did I pull too hard on the strings? Am I broken? I’m always so busy. Now that formal obligations are over, I don’t know what to do next. Maybe go with the flow? Enjoy the summer as it is? This idle state doesn’t suit me well. Maybe I’m overthinking this, I always do.