Grant me this.

I am sitting in front of my computer and being almost on the verge of tears. But I'm not sure why I feel this wave of emotion.

I am working on this grant application, my first grant application, without any help from anyone. Until today, I had not even spoken with someone about it. I am simultaneously blocked as a writer and as a thinker. The thought of putting my plans and words down on paper is terrifying. What if I get it wrong? What if I get it right? Then, I think, I must actually finish this, which requires getting everything right in the end.

WHich I am no longer certain that I am capable of doing.

I have to defend myself and support myself and sell myself to these people I do not even know. And I am trying to get ready for a new semester. And deal with family problems (my dad is not doing great, though he is not doing terribly, both in terms of money and in terms of health. Meanwhile, my sister is moving and working insane hours). And accomplish ten to twenty other things. Wash the dishes. Send the check. Deliver the package. Cleanse my soul.

I have to sell myself and I cannot even defend myself from me, from these tiny criticisms.

"I'd wait somehow, if I thought this was something a little time would mend" - Sarah Harmer

I managed to eliminate this wave of terror from my life for a few hours this morning. Watching Dexter with my roommate, I was able to forget for a while how screwed I have made myself by being terrified into inaction. But this only terrifies me further into inaction. What if I continue to get it wrong? What if, by moving forward, everyone finds out that I am nothing, that I have learned nothing, that I know nothing?

And so I drink tea.

And think about the green of a field in spring.

And call people just to hear a voice that is not my own.

I want someone to tell me that I am smart. I have always wanted this. But even when people say the words, I do not believe them, not since I was a little kid and I could never win Jeopardy or Trivial Pursuit. I was once convinced of my overall inferiority and now I fear I will never be persuaded otherwise. Though I know that being smart, for me, would be to see a wide swath of the world and understand it, how it works at each level, without being overwhelmed by the vast huge-ness of it. To understand fully without losing sight of each person, each drop, and the miracle of each breath in our lungs.

I think that maybe I've gotten vaguely close to that, which is to say that I am less far than before. But I keep losing grasp of it. I have to find a way to explain what it is I plan to do though I know that what I plan to do will likely wash away in the face of what the world will lead me to do. And that is overwhelming, because I can imagine so many futures, but I cannot explain any of them, nor how they might all start from the same point(s). I can understand how the world works and what my plan consists of, but I cannot communicate it effectively. Like a robot expressing love.

To understand without being able to express hurts like permafrost in the face.
Gr, argh.