The day I gave my soul away...

Yesterday I sat down on a chair at my friends how and deflated sort of like a balloon-noises included. It was a sigh of relief and the only way I could explain my emotions. See, I had so many thoughts running around in my head I didn't even know where to start. So a huff and a few good groans said all I needed to say. It had been a long hard day.

I had this paper I needed to write, no biggie right? That's what I thought when I first saw it listed on the syllabus. I like writing papers and I think I'm a pretty good writer, so a 3-5 page paper was nothing. I had to do a Literature Review for my capstone class and so I started gathering my articles. Well the required five articles soon turned into 25 articles saved on my computer. Slightly overwhelmed I selected my top 8 favorite articles and printed them off, a small book later I realized what I had done to myself. I would need some serious focus juice and some eye drops to even get through the reading. I set small goals along the way so I could do my reading and then have a few days to write the paper. Oh how simple it seemed. It only took one crazy day to throw me off my path. I ended up stringing the reading out through multiple days and then cramming to write my paper in a few day.

Monday dawned and so did an overwhelming feeling of doom. However, with a little self talk I had convinced myself it wasn't going to be too bad. I spent all of Monday afternoon/evening working on the paper. I was about half done when my eyeballs decided not to focus anymore, but I had saved the hardest part for the next day (paper due Tuesday at 2pm). Tuesday came like a punch to the stomach, there was no tomorrow and there was very little time left. I was in panic shut down mode. All my classes got skipped and I headed straight to the library in hopes that the last bit of stress induced adrenaline would kick in.

Saved by the bell (I loved that show), I quickly formatted and pushed print. My paper was done. So with 10+ hours, an ulcer, and a small tree sacrificed for all the printing, I was finally done. I let out a sigh of relief, but why didn't I feel better? I felt some better, but my mind was reeling and all I could think about what my paper. But why?

I thought about that question all through my class, all the way home, during dinner, and all evening. I even talked to my friend and my mom about it. Why was this paper so difficult? Why do I feel emotionally drained? Why do I feel like I gave part of myself away? It took me a good nights rest (and lots of mulling) before I could come to this conclusion:

I had no choice.

I'm not one who usually believes in destiny, but I realize now that at some point I had to face this.

This paper was years in the making. It was years of compounded experiences that lead me to where I am today. It took me bopping around from majors, schools, and "life experiences" before I finally found the direction I needed to go. But like I said, it more found me. To save an already long story from getting too much longer, I'll just say that one day I had the clearest impression I have ever received and I knew at that moment that I had to switch gears. And that landed me here in Provo going to UVU, studying Behavioral Science. So really, I had no choice. All of my life was being lead to this moment. Not necessarily the paper, but what it represented. It was me standing face to face with my decision. To me, my paper was a representation of all my experiences, my commitment to my goal, and an anthem of my heart. It sound silly I know. But handing in my paper was like saying, "This is me and this is what I'm committing my life to."

I doubt my teacher will ever know (or probably care) about the agony that went into that paper (that turned out being 11 pages). But it matters to me. Yesterday I stamped my soul on that paper and I feel like there is no turning back.