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Getting an extra diploma while working full-time and maintaining a somewhat ‘normal’ social life isn’t easy. I knew that when I started, but I’d been overdoing it for the past five years, so why stop now, right? I kept telling myself:  I’ll just combine two years in one. I already have most of the credits. No biggie. It’ll be over sooner that way, and I can start living after, right? 

Nope.
The stress finally caught up with me and I -need- to take it slow right now. I need some time to slack off, because slacking off is the only thing I was able to do well lately.
I used crafting as an excuse to stop thinking about all the things that needed doing. It made me feel guilty, and I don’t want to feel guilty about relaxing.
So I’m taking it slow. I just e-mailed the professor to let him know I won’t be going to his classes anymore and I won’t be doing his exams. I just might want to finish some papers during the summer, so I’m not ‘officially’ quitting. But still.

This year, all I have left to do is finish three papers, do an exam and go to two classes. That’s it. Whew. No more panic attacks. Three papers, two classes, one exam.
Good thing too: I’ll be busy doing some work for my day job. In a few weeks time I’ll be working days and evenings. I won’t have time for school at all.

So: my grateful item for this week (I’ll only do one from now on):
I’m grateful for my boyfriend’s and my parents’ support. I’m not used to giving up. I’m used to successful accomplishments. Getting the job done. Always a job well done. I’ve never failed at anything. I’ve avoided things I wasn’t -that- good at and specialized in things I loved.
Admitting to myself that I’d better stop now before I’d burn out has been really difficult. I kept telling myself that I’d disappoint people by quitting, that I’d let them down. Silly, right?

Having my parents, friends and boyfriend tell me that it was a brave decision and that they thought it was for the best, was liberating in a way. I should have known they’d feel this way, but then I realized it wasn’t my family’s disappointment I was afraid of, it was my own.
Hearing them tell me it was alright, gave me the power to try and believe them.

God, I feel like such a mental case right now. I’m still ashamed of myself. I kept finding things to do in stead of sending that e-mail. I’m still afraid of my professor’s reaction. But it’ll be fine. It always is. I just hate admitting to myself that I couldn’t do something. Because I know I could have done it. But by doing it, I’d only alienate myself further from the people that still care about me, and I can’t let that happen. Plus, I finally found myself a hobby. I’m not giving that up for a diploma I’m not sure I want to use.

Right. Let’s practice saying it in the mirror a few times, so I’ll get used to it.
“Yeah, I quit. I’m just taking it slow.”

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