Heavy heart gets lighter by your side
but there are thoughts I’d wish I’d heard
if they ask you how I’m holding up
say I’m holding out for the words
– Capsized, Sarah Harmer

I don’t have a shiny new topic for you. I am still carrying a lot of the same wounds. I have been wondering how I have healed.

Last week, I went to see Kimmy Beach and Tom Wayman read here in Calgary. Prior to the reading, I was chatting with Tracy. She mentioned that I should spend some time chatting up Wayman—maybe making it easier to get into the UofC’s MA (English) program. Wayman is a prof in the English department and a damn good writer—someone who I personally look up to. I had met him once before (at the Talking Fresh workshop at Luther College in Regina, where I met Brenda). I had also emailed him once last year to inquire about doing an MA. I sort of hoped, when Kimmy introduced me that night, that he would remember me, but he didn’t. Since that email last winter I really haven’t thought about doing an MA. The conversation with Tracy opened up the thought once again.

As many of you know (because I have written about it before), the last time I was in university didn’t go very smooth. I have to say, now that I am living with a student, it has certainly opened my eyes a bit. However, Leah is much, much more responsible than I ever was. It’s hard to say what happened first—my laziness or my anxiety—but either way it crippled me, frankly. Actually, it was my laziness. I lie sometimes, which is not part of the solution. I crippled my ability to write anything for a long time. By the end of my degree, I would have to stay up very late, until I could barely stay awake and then I would write (but not that well). I was so tired that all I could was write—couldn’t worry. Worrying takes a lot of energy.

Here I am, again, pondering what I should do with my life. I have been out of school for a year and a half. I think I worked on one poem a couple months ago and South Country Fair before that. Creative writing still fills me with a lot of anxiety. But, I can say that working a full-time job as an Editor has instilled a certain amount of confidence in me—because I am good at it and encouraged here. This blog has also given me a certain amount of confidence, as well. Even if I am not writing stories or poems, I am writing here and this very public place doesn’t scare me. That’s probably because I started and stayed in a good place.

However, how do I know if I am healed? And I realize that’s more of a personal question and/or something that you can’t answer. So that’s not a good question. How about an analogy: If I have a wound and all this time and growth has created stitches/bandages for my wounds and I have begun to heal, then how do I know how much stress I can put on myself and/or the wound. Has enough time gone by that I could successfully go back to University?

I have thought about attempting to find more work in a field where I could write as well (such as the company I have started but haven’t mentioned because it isn’t going to launch until the new year, so that’s a secret—shhh!). That wouldn’t scare me. In fact, that possibility really excites me and I feel like I would only gain more confidence. I do feel like I am moving forwards, but I just don’t know how fast I am going and what I should do in the near future.

Do I keep allowing time and experience to heal me and slowly deal with anxiety or turn around and face it?