In the depths

I just sort of feel like my life is falling apart right now.

I am completely overwhelmed by the project on which I'm currently working (and for which I've already gotten a month extension) because I am foolishly trying to cram a year's worth of work into about six weeks. Or I guess rather had I begun chipping away at the project when it fell into my lap, I'd be done already. I finished the other one. The editor hated my idea, seriously, and to be honest, it wasn't that great anyway, but he really hated the idea, so that required some major revisions which meant time away from big project because he wanted them in two weeks. I got them done in a week, and I have no idea if they are good enough yet, so that has me on edge. Also, under our new university policy, because the Magpie has been ill since birth, and then ill again this summer (that e.coli really fucked things up for me this summer--she's fine, I didn't mean to sound as horrible as I did because obviously her health comes first), which is the primary reason that this stuff isn't done yet as it should have been, I can apply for a year extension for tenure. So, I would go up next year. Except... 1) No one has applied for this before, so no one knows what to do, 2) I spent a week working on my letter to go with my request, 3) It's been over a week since I submitted my request and I haven't heard anything yet, and this is a problem because 4) if I get denied, my portfolio is due by 10/3. But since I have this huge awful project looming, I don't want to devote hours of research and writing time to the tenure portfolio if I don't have to. I've got my stuff all gathered, it's the writing for it that's not been done, and if I have to, I can knock it out in a weekend, but the portfolio is going to look rushed, and I'd rather it not. I've been told at the department level, I'm fine. At the college level, probably not because not all my stuff is in print and letters from the editors for the forthcoming stuff probably won't be good enough, which I think it bullshit, but whatever.

In the meantime, like this week, I have my sister's baby shower out of town, and then we move Sunday, and we're spending this week trying to get as much packed as we can. I'm more worried about tenure than I would be if we weren't buying a house. It was too good of an offer to pass up, especially if we are staying, and the house would not have been around for a month, let alone a whole year. On top of all of this, my very heightened stressed out state has had an impact on the whole family. The J is on edge, my mom is freaking out (and it does not help me for them to tell me to stop freaking out and to calm down--that just seriously pisses me off more), and then there's Magpie. She was potty trained. We were doing great. Now? Complete regression. She has decided that she is not going to be potty trained any more. We've talked to the pediatrician about it and her daycare, and we are trying our best (I'm not sure that the daycare even believes that she was actually potty trained), but there we are. We all understand that this is her way of coping with the stress. She has made a decision not to use the toilet. And she wants the comfort of babyhood because she's stressed out, too.

In short, I feel like my incompetence in my work is destroying my family. I know in part that the mere act of being in the new house on Sunday is going to make a difference simply because there is 600 sq. feet more of breathing space and a giant fenced in outdoor space, so I'm hopefully just the lack of crowding will make a difference.

I meditate every day, too, to help with this. I can tell it's helping, but still.

Until that letter comes back and I know how to focus my energies (on my research or on the appeal, because all hell will break loose, actually if it is denied. The J is ready to go to the mattresses), I feel like I'm drowning. I am going to crash in November, and it will not be pretty.

I just want to scream to the universe. I want the universe to help, to open the heavens and put forth light and warmth on me.

Every fucking day is a struggle. I have no energy for my research right now (though I chip away as I can almost daily) because I feel like all the energy I have is in holding myself together so I can function, so I can teach (though that takes way more energy than I have--I'm using up the reserves here, quick), so I am not a fucking broken down mess at work.

I never never ever want to be in this position again--academically, emotionally, physically, and financially. Ever.

Thanks for listening, y'all.