Low Levels of Anxiety

Today, I woke up early. I'd been grinding my teeth all night, so the soreness in my jaw coupled with the wakefulness I'd been feeling all night tossing and turning made getting out of bed a little easier. I turned over, looked at my clock/phone, and turned my alarm off. Then walked downstairs to coffee and the hum of low levels of anxiety.

Most mornings I fill my mug with coffee, add some milk, flip open my computer and sit down to scan the news. This takes all of 5 minutes until the low levels hum a little louder so I click open a word document, crack open a book and start reading and taking notes. This morning, it was more writing than reading. I have two papers due next week, a large grant report due on Friday, 200+ pages to read starting tomorrow, and a midterm exam in quantitative methods fast approaching. To top it off I need to read through about 20 hours of lecture notes so that I can competently contribute to the writing of a chapter in a book on higher education, of which I know little. When I list it all out, it doesn't seem like much. It seems doable. Then I remember how I work, and low levels start building to medium levels.

I am a slow worker. I am not a procrastinator, because I become apathetic. I do not feel motivated as the deadline approaches, I feel fear and the desire to quit. If I don't have something complete at least 24 hours before it is due, then I have decided there are better things to do with my life than stay up late and work. I've often heard myself say, "If it was so important to me, I would have started it by now. So I'm not going to do it at all." I front load my anxiety because I fear apathy, that tipping point when I give up and decide I just wasn't cut out to turn something in on time. So even though most of my deadlines are 5 days away, I feel an urgency to do them all now. NOW. I am so slow. For every 5 page paper that is due, I've written 15 because it takes me that many to figure out what I'm doing. I also stare a lot. And think with my eyes fixed on whatever object is 10 feet in front of me. Lamp. Front door knob. Stack of books on the floor. Kevin.

Now, it is late. I do have a stopping point for rest, and tonight after working about 10 hours on one paper I think I can call it a first draft. (well, maybe a second draft since I had to delete 8 pages in order to stay under the 7 page limit.)