did i really just?

The panic began some time last week, around the time when I discovered the countdown to my imminent move was only 24 days. The tears started last night. When I lay down for bed, as the stress slowly and grudgingly left my body I began to weep. I pressed my face into my pillow to try to stifle the sound, but cry I must and did until I fell asleep. When I woke up in the morning I took an inventory of myself and wondered, did I really just cry?

In an in-class debate when a girl began a personal attack as her academic one failed, I again wanted to cry. I wished for an abandoned bathroom where I might weep tears of frustration. At work when Aaron inquired about my progress in apartment hunting, I turned away to hide the sudden shine in my eyes. Don't make me cry, is all I responded. The lovely boy promptly began discussing Igor, the Russian assassin. Of course that distracted me. Just not enough.

The white noise is always there, and as long as I ignore it it sounds like static, just static telling me that there is too much friction in my life right now, too much channel surfing, too many distractions. I couldn't agree more. But if I stop and listen to the noise it becomes oh so much blacker. It starts whispering to me of all my insecurities. It tells me I am a failure. You have no place to live, it says. You have no job. You couldn't even sell your contract to take care of Nora. Her stress is your fault too. And you have nothing to offer anyone, especially Kevin. If you had chosen to stay here and do your duty and do things the right way, you could have gone to him without debt and with a degree. What are you now? Nothing. Did you actually think you could do this? Did you really just try?

I'm trying not to listen.