Monday, April 4, 2011


It's April. APRIL. We are moving in July. That's like 3 months. 3 MONTHS.Yeah, I am kinda freaking out. But...not really about the moving. I know it will get done. It has to get done, and I flourish under pressure. Oddly, I am not worried about money, or moving, or finding a place to live. I'm relatively unconcerned with whether or not my husband is moving with a job. We both agree that if we can survive in San Francisco, we will be ok almost anywhere. I have moved across the country with nothing and we have been fine. This time we are older, wiser, and more prepared. I am not freaking out because of the move.

I am freaking out because I am going back THERE.

Don't get me wrong, I want to go back. I want my PhD. I am in love with science.

BUT...As the months fly by, and time to actually go back to BG draws closer and closer...I'm not going to lie. I am pretty much terrified.

I'm a scientist. And a darn good one at that. I am a great student and I have no doubt in my research and academic abilities. I can handle the pressure and the heat. What I don't know if I can handle is the ghosts. Those hallways, that campus. It's haunted. For me, it's haunted. I was broken on that campus.

I ran. I ran as far away as I could get. Opportunities presented and I took them. I am not ashamed of that. I believe that when decisions are right, they work out all on their own. And they did, for me, for us. Very well, in fact. I did what I needed to do. I got through each day, and here I am. I ran, and I readily admit that.

I have dealt with the ghosts as well as I can. But they still haunt me. I have no idea how I will handle being back there. Sometimes when I think about it, I can feel my hands get all sweaty and clammy. I can feel my pulse pick up. Sometimes, I think it borders on a panic attack. I don't call anyone. I don't talk about it. I don't know what to say. It feels like beating a dead horse. Other people, they don't get it. They can't understand, and I don't expect them to. Seeing that water tower still hits me like a sucker punch to the gut. Maybe that won't change.

I'm scared. I know I can do it. But holy moly, I am really scared.

I can do this. And I can do it well. It's time. It is long overdue and it's time. I want this. I am ready for this. I am not broken. But I am haunted.

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