It's not that I can't, I just don't want to

These next two days will be it I think.  As Gob on Arrested Development would say, 'I've made a huge mistake.'  I'm totally unglued.  I slept most of today and now I'm right back here at 10 o'clock still not done with yesterday's homework and head thick with anxiety and escapist fatigue.  I was not getting my life errands done on the afternoon schedule but the morning class thing does not work for me.  It works against my brain rhythm.  I am not good for this kind of stuff in the morning.  Morning is my thinking time, not my reading out loud in a foreign language time or conjugating words I don't even understand time.  Something has to give.  I will need to be medicated for a year, I will need to muster the courage to quit, or something fairy godmother third option has to materialize.  Before the end of the week.  I'm happy to pay for this experiment out of pocket for two weeks as a mea culpa for wasting everyone's time, beyond that, I will feel compelled to stay.  I've had that 'what have I done' feeling before.  It's practically the story of my professional life, maybe my entire life.  But it gets harder with time, not easier, to put myself through the paces of another random challenge.  I just want to be left alone.

My instructor is a trip.  I always find people who declare themselves to be good at something like dancing or singing amusing.  I don't get it.  I would rather say I'm an awful dancer or even that I just like dancing rather than provide an assessment of my talent to near strangers.  Just not sure what I'm supposed to do with that information.  She's a snappy dresser and knows her way around a stiletto.  Prototypical hyper feminine and well credentialed woman.  I think the difference between me and many women are they like attention from men; they like to be appreciated physically, like to feel/look sexy, etc. I don't.  I don't want to be attractive to or noticed by men in general; I want to be noticed by one man.  But one can not have it both ways so here I sit, alone rocking the soccer shorts while my instructor puts on her makeup in thigh highs and stilettos.

"Somethings gotta give with the way I'm livin'

Seems I'm gettin' down every day.

The more I strive, the less I'm alive

And it seems I'm getting further away."

I haven't been this heartbroken about something in some time.  Hot, unspent tears behind the eyes troubled in my mind.  Frustrated, sad, mad at myself for choosing this and fairly certain that if I chose to stay the course, it will only get worse.  I'm am exhausted from fighting myself.  Exhausted. And it's still a draw.  I can't keep seeing how I feel by the end of the week before I add my own addendum to quitters never win; quitters know when to cut their losses and go on to something they can win at.  I don't want to match wits and be verbally wrestled in a foreign language.  I don't want to want to choke out an instructor who amubshed me in the coffee room.  I don't want to talk about myself more in a foreign language than I do in English.  I don't want to make up plans for my weekend because it is unacceptable to say I don't have any.  Again, I just want to left alone.

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I started this post two weeks ago.  The third option has not materialized but I have had 'the talk' with my instructor which served only to go on record as being an unhappy camper as she didn't plan on adjusting how she teaches to suit my learning style.  In her words, 'I'm sorry boo, but that's just the way it is.'  I'm not sure if she calls me 'boo' because I'm black or just calls everyone that.  So there is still suffering but it is no longer in silence.  Brave faces are overrated and there is just too much to absorb to bother with one during this process.  Seems most if not all of us are dealing with the same emotional roller coaster as well. Nothing in academic language study prepares you for the hell of one on one language.  It doesn't even matter what language, the bottom falls out of your world every 2-3 weeks.  I came in today to see my colleague (and future boss) had illustrated this process by drawing stairs with long plateaus.  The plateaus had giant gaps which we all fall through and seemingly start from scratch.  So this is language and this is my life for the near future.  I knock on wood but I think I've come in from the window ledge and committed to seeing this ridiculous through.  God help me.  Seriously, God, sincerely looking for an assist here.  Would love that beautiful, smart, funny man if that can be managed as well.  You know who I'm thinking of.