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On Monday, July 11^th, at precisely 9:49 pm, I completed my Associate’s degree in Human Services with straight A’s! I don’t say this with any hint of arrogance – after all, I’m 20 years late to this party. I never thought I would be 41 years old trying to force myself to celebrate a two-year degree. But these particular past two years have been all manner of hot, wet, gritty hell!

I made a cross-country move against my will; I’ve lost more than I can calculate, struggled through virtual homelessness, and had doctors tell me that I might die if I didn’t learn how to manage my stress. Of course, this was all while I lost the job of my dreams (on a technicality), watched my savings dwindle away to nothing, and clawed my way back from at least three breakdowns. Again… hot, wet, gritty, hell!

But through it all, I fought to keep my focus on my schoolwork. There were times I spent 6 hours in my car writing papers because I had no other place to go. I had my textbooks sent to other people’s homes because I have no address. And for most of this past year, I worked two jobs while taking a doubled load of courses, which equaled approximately forty hours of coursework.

I know all that it took for me to accomplish this goal. However, I’m struggling to feel the pure joy of it all. Honestly, it feels as if the adrenaline of getting through it was the only thing holding me together. Like school was simultaneously crushing me and keeping me from bleeding out. Without the pressure, I’m constantly anxious, my stomach is upset, I can’t sleep, and I feel out of sorts.

I haven’t been free for an entire week, and I already feel like I’m wasting time and should be doing something productive. All I think about is how behind I am and how much further I have to go. I’ve waited half my life for this after years of helping those around me achieve their educational goals. But I can’t allow myself to enjoy it because it’s not enough.

I hate that after all this time, I still don’t know how to give myself a break. I want to celebrate this win, but my unreasonable expectations are snuffing the joy out of me. And I feel guilty for taking time to rest because I’m mere yards from the start of the race while everyone else is nearing the finish line. I should be proud of my efforts, but – and I hate to admit this – there’s a slight sense of disappointment.

How do you rise when you’re creating the pressure that’s forcing you down??

"Who am I if I don't have what it takes?
No cracks, no breaks
No mistakes, no pressure"