Last night I danced around my apartment cleaning things, putting things in their newly found homes, and in general was an organizing little fiend. The organizing and the need for things to have a home only furthered the already established quality of my personality – I’m compartmentalize. Oh, and I’m ridiculously OCD.
Everything has a home. Everything has a place that it belongs and if it’s not in its home, then it had better have a good reason for not being there. My clothes in my ridiculously over sized closet that I absolutely love (seriously, it’s big enough that someone could rent the closet as a bedroom) all have their spots now; button up, long sleeved shirts are all together in the front, all facing the same direction, followed by all my dress sweaters and short cardigans. My dress shirts that are short sleeved and sleeve less follow behind and underneath the shirts, on the bottom shelf, are all of my dress pants and my dress skirts. At the end of the closet you’ll find my dresses and then my long cardigans.
Everything belongs in its place and until I was finished putting them in order, I was going to feel uneasy. This is me. This is how I operate. I also understand that this classifies me as crazy. However, in the midst of unpacking all of my clothes it occurred to me – I’m living two very different lives. I’m now operating under the mindset that this could account for the reason as to why I am constantly exhausted. I have work life, the typical 8:30am-5pm Monday thru Friday job with full benefits and a 401k. I have the responsibilities of an adult complete with bills, rent and being completely on my own. Then, I have the college life where I have classes, homework, papers, tests and not to forget the party aspect where I’m hanging out, drinking, socializing. I also have the unfortunate issue of not being able to settle for anything less than A’s. In that regard, you can add another notch to the stress level belt and to the exhaustion meter.
I’m in a fickle balance between the life that I missed because of my not going college when I was eighteen, and the life that a normal twenty five year old should have. I’m living both lives – I’m making up for lost time. I’m going to bed at midnight or 1am then getting up at 7am and wondering why I need three cups of coffee in the morning to actually get my brain moving. It’s not that I don’t love the life that I have, it’s only that I’m starting to fear when the two polar opposite sides of my life are going to come crashing into each other like two high speed railroad trains. I’m starting to fear the day that I’m going to crash, crumble and fall flat on my face in emotional turmoil and utter exhaustion.
I’ve never had the experience of “oh, what day is it again?” because I’ve always had some type of responsibility to fulfill. In all actuality, this responsibility has been on my shoulder since I was about sixteen years old. I worked all through high school, complete with summers, and have never had more than two weeks off from a job. I’ve always been the responsible one – the one that people can lean on, that people come to for advise and answers. Hell, my mom and dad come to me for advise. I just don’t understand why it is people think that I’ve got all my shit together, because while I may look like a calm little duck on a placid, quaint pond, needn’t I remind you that underneath the placidity, my feet are moving like an out of control motor boat. I’m scared out of my mind and I don’t have all the answers.
So what do I do? I compartmentalize. I look at each aspect of my life and I put them in little shoe boxes. School? You belong in this shoe box. Work? You belong in this pretty blue shoe box. Love? You belong in a shoe box with a rubber bands holding the lid on. Friendship? I need a Ogre sized shoe box. I have each section of my life all cornered off, boxed up, and stored. It’s what allows me to function (I think?) properly. Sometimes you have to look at life in sections because if you look at it from afar it looks like a blurry, crazy mess. It’s when you step close enough to the canvas to see the sections of life that it becomes less terrifying.
Honestly, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing and I wish someone had an answer for me.
Until then, I think I need a full shower.