The Other Side

I have to be honest. I did NOT think I would be here on the other side. The other side of what?

Victory.

And it's not that I didn't trust God. I didn't trust myself. I didn't think I had the energy to read one more article, to synthesize one more book, to write one more word. To think. To anything. I just KNEW I didn't have the power. There were many times when I just said, "Forget this mess. OK, let me tuck tail and go home."

But I didn't.

And I don't get all the glory.

I don't even get all the victory.

I know for a fact that it was God who carried me through this darkness, this new foreign place (in so many ways for me).

It was God who didn't hate on me because my attendance at church slowed while I got lost in the forest of academia and could not find my way back out. It was God who whispered in my ear, Keep typing, or who told my body, "Don't listen to that girl anymore. Go to bed. She'll be OK."

And even though I cried on those nights my body betrayed me and fell into a comalike slumber, and even though I was so sure I would be unable to get work done because I slept instead, I DID get it done.

Did I do it well?

Well, that's to be determined.

But I did it. And I did it with the best of my tired abilities.


One thing I know now and what I will carry with me as a testimony is I can get through it ALL because I got through this. This was the hardest part. New city. New state. First time separated from family in eight years. Alone. New school. New discipline. New level of education and expectancy. "Accelerated" pace of learning because as a fellow, I took four classes this semester. Everything about this experience was new. There was bound to be moments of feeling lost, unsure. There, of course, would be times when I threw in the towel only to quickly pick it back up, use it to wipe my tears, and keep moving forward. And yes, there would have to be times when I thought I wasn't as brilliant as I always assumed myself to be.

All those things were expected.

And despite them all, I made it.

And because I've gone through these pitfalls and because I lost my faith and because I regained it and because I am now on the other side of victory, I have a list of "lessons learned" that I can take with me and that will aid me throughout the rest of this journey.

That is, until I hit a "new" thing and have to feel my way around that.

For now, I'll be grateful and blessed for THIS victory and revel in it for awhile.

I Am Grateful For...

This time next week, I will have only two final exams to write to conclude my first semester in the doctoral program, and once I'm "done" done, there will be a celebratory, reflective post here.

For now, I want to talk about BEING GRATEFUL.

The Monday before Thanksgiving I was battling some big-time depression, and the Monday after Thanksgiving I was talking about being done with NaNoWriMo.

Totally missed out on that great Thanksgiving tradition of talking about what you're grateful for.


I'm grateful (and blessed because for me they go hand-in-hand) to have a God who looks out for me when I don't look out for myself. He really is the reason I have come this far and that I can see some light at the end of this tunnel. He never let me forget (even when I tried) my intelligence and my strength. He always had just the right word to calm me. He always knew who needed to call me, or who needed to invite me to lunch to talk, or who needed to tweet me so that we could go out and vent. He put plenty of blessings before me and though I tripped over a few, I was smart enough to go back and collect my blessings.

I'm grateful for my mother and my siblings, who love me and my crazy self. We have been through some storms. The trials, the tribulations? Got them in spades. But through every painful moment that inflicted us, there was hope, and there was laughter. There have been a lot of up and down moments for me this semester, whether my own or from those close to me, and my mother was there, on the phone, while I cursed and cried. And when the tears subsided, she made me laugh. My siblings were there - via phone, Facebook, and text - to offer me support, love, and comfort. And laughter. They didn't complain when I didn't call. They called to make sure I was still alive, to tell me they were proud, and to get me off the phone so that I could get back to business.

I'm grateful for my sistahs, my misfit band of renegade chicas, who are always there with a Godly word, an encouraging word, a funny word, and hugs I can feel clear through cyberspace and fiber optics - and you KNOW who you are. Each of my sistahs is different, and each gives me something that I need, that keeps me going. Whether it's a late-night IM chat about men, a praise session over how good God is, a lecture on how I still have talent even if it feels like my creative well has run dry. They know who I am. They know what I need. And they make sure I have it.

I am grateful for those I have met here at Texas Tech; honestly, I do not know how I would have made it through this semester without them. There is my band of "fellow" comrades. Man, barely know what to say about them. When I was working on my MFA the thing I clung to most was my band of writer friends. They were people who shared my interests. I could talk to them intellectually, and they got where I was coming from. There was no need to overexplain. We knew, and we understood. There aren't many people I can talk about Bakhtin to, you know what I mean? LOL But aside from the intellectual stimulation and connection I get from my TTU Crew, the comrades have become a part of my life. I care about them and their well being. And their successes here only fuel me to be as successful in my academic endeavors. There are those professors whose bright smiles, lunch dates, brilliance, spark, demeanor have already begun to help me shape my thoughts into topics of interests. There are those students - on-site and online - who I have encountered who have added another layer of intellectual conversation, another layer of hilarity to my life that has helped right at moments when I thought I was down for the count.


I could, believe me, write a book (or at least a really long chapter - lol) on many more characters who have added color to my life, and to all of those people, I'm grateful to have you, too.

Ultimately, I am grateful and blessed to be here, living and breathing and reconstructing myself through this experience; I'm glad God deemed me worthy of such an honor.

The Journey Continues: What I Learned through NaNoWriMo '09

Since 2004, I have participated in NaNoWriMo. In 2004, I didn't win. Can't remember what I was working on, but I know I petered out early on and wasn't concerned with the fact that I stopped participating.

Since 2005, I have participated in NaNo and have won and have actually went beyond the 50,000 words to complete full novels (which will see the light of day).

This year, I was unsure if I would participate. For those of you who have been reading the blog regularly, you know that I've been struggling with my creativity since starting in the doctoral program back in August. In fact, up 'til NaNoWriMo this year, I had written NOTHING. And wasn't trying to. I was convinced writing would have to take place during the holidays - the Christmas breaks, the summer vacays.

So, I decided not to do NaNoWriMo and was actually OK with not doing it. Until everybody started talking about it. Until I went to my page on NaNo and saw that I had participated and won NaNo four years in a row--had the books to prove it.

Mid-October, I decided to participate. Even marked in my planner a few days where I could put together an outline for a story. Two days before NaNo began, I had yet to work on an outline. Didn't have the time.

So, on November 1, I jumped in with a title (Educating Sophia), a character's name and some words in my head for the beginning. That was it.

First week of NaNo, I wrote about 23,000 words.

Second week, I wrote about 12,000 words.

Third week, I began to peter out: about 8,500 words.

Fourth week, just wanted to get done: about 7,000 words.

Two and a half days before the end of NaNo, I stumbled into the finish line with 50,043 words.

In those 30 days, I realized a few things:

I can do more than I think I can. All semester, I was so sure that not one more thing could be integrated into my life. There just was no time. I reading until I wanted to vomit words. I was trying to digest vast quantities of information so that I could at least sound like I might understand. I was working on projects, papers (still am!), studies (still am!). I was busy having my minor (and not so minor) breakdowns. I simply could not add creative writing to the mix. But, just like I realized every November for the last four years, writing creatively is my sanity. It's the thing that makes everything else doable. I was using my morning hours to write, which helped me get through the rest of the day. I was a lot more structured in other projects because I had the umph from writing creatively.

I can write without a net. Though, I have to admit, I never want to do that again, LOL I'm a plotter. I like letting a story develop itself on my mind's screen and then writing out an outline of this story that has manifested itself in my mind for days, weeks, sometimes, months. Once I have that outline completed, then I write, and the writing usually comes fast and swift - not just because I have an outline, but because I know and breathe these characters, these places, situations, conflicts, tensions. They are there, primed and ready to gush out of me. This go round? No outline, no net. But I wrote over 50k in 30 days. The key? About two weeks into NaNo my engine for the story began to peter out. Had no idea where to go, what to write, if I even cared about the character. The story was, in a way, tied to my life, and I was tired of writing about dismal things, LOL So, instead of lamenting (literally and figuratively) over the story itself, I focused on the dreams and wants and thoughts of the character and wrote that. The main character kept a blog and though there is a linear story, there are also links that fall away from the story, links that develop the main character, allow us, the readers, to get to know her better. Because I knew this, I jumped in every day and asked, "What does this character want? What are her hopes, dreams, desires?" And I would pick one and WRITE. In the end, did it make the best story? NOPE, but I tell you what. I WROTE, and that tells me that if I am focused and organized, I can write the "good" stuff, too.

I can be creative and academic simultaneously. This was a huge hurdle for me to overcome. Creatively, I had gotten very complacent, fully believing that I could not be the creative writer, the author while in the midst of Ph.D. Land. After that first week, when I crossed 20k in less than 6 days, I knew that I could be both creative and academic, and throughout the month, as this knowledge bore itself into me, I began to believe it. As such, my mind automatically started to think about this Christmas break and how important it is for me to organize my projects so that once school starts, I can carve out time to write and actually have something good and productive to write. This has been one of the best things about this NaNoWriMo journey.

I can actually merge the two for academic endeavors. The other night, I'm doing research and writing for one of my papers and storytelling is still swirling about my mind and just because, I began research the use of storytelling in the field of I'm studying, and lo and behold, there are books and articles written about this. Initially, that deflated the excitement for me. No new ideas under the sun, I thought. But a good friend of mind, a sister to me in all truthfulness, told me to Spin it. You're creative. So what people have already done something on it. As a writer, you of all people know how to mix what's been done to make it new. Find a way to do that with this. And so now, I have a new research channel in my mind to explore that might actually allow me to play in my storytelling abilities but in an academic way.

The best of both worlds.

Dealing with Depression with the Word

This past week has been an experience for me.

I actually had a day on campus where I just couldn't hold in my emotions any more. They shot through my mouth in the form of words as I talked to people. They leaked from my eyes in the form of tears as I sat in classrooms. They settled onto my face in the form of dull eyes and lifeless expression.

I was tired. And I was done.

I could not get my brain to slow down enough to get any work done, I was having panic attacks daily, and I knew I was slipping into a depression. Had been for weeks--was trying every and anything I could do to prevent it, but I didn't have the energy to care.

Out of desperation one day, I ran to my bible and closed my eyes. I whispered, "God, I know I haven't been faithful to you lately, but please give me a good word."

With eyes still closed, I shuffled through pages, finally letting the book open.

I then hovered my hands over the pages, wanting to feel a pull toward a particular passage.

I fell upon Zechariah 3:1-10.

1 Then he showed me Joshua the high priest standing before the Angel of the LORD, and Satan standing at his right hand to oppose him. 2 And the LORD said to Satan, “The LORD rebuke you, Satan! The LORD who has chosen Jerusalem rebuke you! Is this not a brand plucked from the fire?”

3 Now Joshua was clothed with filthy garments, and was standing before the Angel.
4 Then He answered and spoke to those who stood before Him, saying, “Take away the filthy garments from him.” And to him He said, “See, I have removed your iniquity from you, and I will clothe you with rich robes.”
5 And I said, “Let them put a clean turban on his head.”
So they put a clean turban on his head, and they put the clothes on him. And the Angel of the LORD stood by.
6 Then the Angel of the LORD admonished Joshua, saying, 7 “Thus says the LORD of hosts:


‘ If you will walk in My ways,
And if you will keep My command,
Then you shall also judge My house,
And likewise have charge of My courts;
I will give you places to walk
Among these who stand here.
8 ‘ Hear, O Joshua, the high priest,
You and your companions who sit before you,
For they are a wondrous sign;
For behold, I am bringing forth My Servant the BRANCH.
9 For behold, the stone
That I have laid before Joshua:
Upon the stone are seven eyes.
Behold, I will engrave its inscription,’
Says the LORD of hosts,

‘ And I will remove the iniquity of that land in one day.
10 In that day,’ says the LORD of hosts,

‘ Everyone will invite his neighbor
Under his vine and under his fig tree.’”

I talked to one of my close friends after reading it and did some research on the verse though neither of those were necessary; I knew the message God was sending me: in essence, God was restoring me, making me whole and cleansed despite my circumstances.

And I felt it was true. I believed it was true.

And then a few more days passed and despite this word from God, I was still down and depressed and unable to focus.

When I returned to the Bible for a word, I was presented with Isaiah 5:1-12. It made me sit up:

Now let me sing to my Well-beloved

A song of my Beloved regarding His vineyard:

My Well-beloved has a vineyard
On a very fruitful hill.
2 He dug it up and cleared out its stones,
And planted it with the choicest vine.
He built a tower in its midst,
And also made a winepress in it;
So He expected it to bring forth good grapes,
But it brought forth wild grapes.
3 “ And now, O inhabitants of Jerusalem and men of Judah,
Judge, please, between Me and My vineyard.
4 What more could have been done to My vineyard
That I have not done in it?
Why then, when I expected it to bring forth good grapes,
Did it bring forth wild grapes?
5 And now, please let Me tell you what I will do to My vineyard:
I will take away its hedge, and it shall be burned;
And break down its wall, and it shall be trampled down.
6 I will lay it waste;
It shall not be pruned or dug,
But there shall come up briers and thorns.
I will also command the clouds
That they rain no rain on it.”
7 For the vineyard of the LORD of hosts is the house of Israel,
And the men of Judah are His pleasant plant.
He looked for justice, but behold, oppression;
For righteousness, but behold, a cry for help.

8 Woe to those who join house to house;
They add field to field,
Till there is no place
Where they may dwell alone in the midst of the land!
9 In my hearing the LORD of hosts said,

“ Truly, many houses shall be desolate,
Great and beautiful ones, without inhabitant.
10 For ten acres of vineyard shall yield one bath,
And a homer of seed shall yield one ephah.”
11 Woe to those who rise early in the morning,
That they may follow intoxicating drink;
Who continue until night, till wine inflames them!
12 The harp and the strings,
The tambourine and flute,
And wine are in their feasts;
But they do not regard the work of the LORD,
Nor consider the operation of His hands.

The message from this passage wasn't as sweet and loving as the former passage. The minute I read this I knew I was being reprimanded for allowing my depression, for allowing my mind to devalue me, to make me an unproductive vineyard. I managed to take one seed of doubt -- my inability to get academically productive -- and turned it into a crop full of failure. I managed to take every facet of what made me me and find a way to devalue it. Even when I had moments of happiness or moments where I believed things might be OK, they quickly evaporated and I returned to laboring in my field of devalue.

As I embark on a new week, I'm working hard to keep my head above water, keep my vision focused on positives, and finish this semester with part of my sanity intact.

I'm also realizing that as I try to creep out of this depression, going to the Word is what's going to help me most. God has never steered me wrong, and even when I feel like nothing can help me, I know that he can break through the hard shell of my walls and balm my bruises and heal me.

Letting God Navigate

It's hard. Letting God navigate.

You want so hard to be in control, to fix everything, to make everything perfect.

It's like you don't even know the truth: nobody is perfect.

It's been one of those things I've been learning this semester. Nobody's perfect. I'm not perfect. Things will happen. I'll want to give up. People will try to make me feel better. I will not listen to them. God will help me even when I don't feel like being helped.

Repeat.

And repeat, and repeat, and repeat.

These days, God has plenty of reasons to not be happy with me. For one thing, I haven't been going to church faithfully, and even though I'm not the person to hang my faith on weekly church amen, I do enjoy going to church.

Life has just been so hectic, so crazy that my sleeping schedule has been off and come Saturday night, I'm trying to justify getting up early to do work instead of going to church.

Yeah, it's been that bad.

The last several months have been an experience for me. The most interesting experience I've ever had, actually. Let's me know that you're never too old to be surprised.

While trying to stay focused on schoolwork, I dealt with major self issues while also worrying, lamenting, praying, dealing with big issues back home - with family and friends.

It's been hard - being here and not there. It's been hard - not being the fixer. It's been hard - just letting my prayer and thoughts be enough.

But it's what I had to do, so I did it. My family insisted. Mom and sister checking in on me, making sure I'm OK. My brother calling and texting with his jokes and telling me not to worry and keep chillin' with my books. My girlfriends telling me that I already have this degree, just keep moving forward to reach it. Even in the midst of their own angst and problems, they looked out for me.

And so did God. And so is God.

At each and every breaking point, he has been there, letting me know that I'll be OK. That I am OK.

He has never left my side even when I left my side.

Through the panic attacks, he's there, calming me, getting me back to the computer to write and work on projects.

Through the tears, he's there to have me turn on a song that makes me smile and revs up my heart and mind.

Through the angst, he's there to say, "Shonell, stop, OK? You got this. Can't you see that?"

And just when I think I can't see it, there comes a slither of light.

And I know that at some point, some point, I will be bathed in that light.

And that's enough to make me move to the side, give God the wheel, and ride this semester out to its positive, brilliantly lit conclusion.

Gettin' "Real" Real

I've been real in all my posts, but today, I feel the need to be "real" real.

Why?

Because these days, Shonell is a bit more raw, bit more open than usual, and "real" real is all that can come out.

So, what's the "real" real?

I'm tired. Stop. Actually, "tired" isn't strong enough a word. Neither is "exhausted."

There is no word.

And no, this isn't a whine. And no, I'm not comparing my life with anyone else's. Not looking for sympathy, and actually not sure I care if anyone cares that I feel this way. I just have to let it out because it's what I feel. Period.

School is kicking my butt from here to Africa and back.

Within the last two weeks, I've thought about just disappearing and returning to Louisiana at least ten times. Though it's probably been more. Mind is a blur these days. Memory flickers off and on.

It's been five years since I've been a student, and a lot has changed in me during that time. I was used to being the worker, the teacher - not the student.

And even the last time I was a student, things were different for me. School was all play, even the hard stuff. I was pursuing my MFA, and because I lived and breathed creative writing, everything new learned excited me. I was busy trying to figure out how I could use these techniques or theories or ideas in my stories.

And I even know about hard work. As a GT, I was expected to be a full-time student (12 credits), plus teach, plus do work in a grammar lab, plus attend readings, plus anything else that came up as opportunities that were "suggested" we take part in; believe me I know about having a full plate. I even know about wanting to high tail it...ironically enough, it had NOTHING to do with the amount of work that I had to do.


This experience, the one I'm in now. The one in which I don't have to teach or do grammar lab. I just have to be a student. GREATEST opportunity ever. And I've been lucky. I actually really like Lubbock. I like the area, the people (so far). I heart the school. The professors...man...honestly, their brilliance is tangible. When I'm in their presence, I can feel it, and I always try to secretly steal a piece and save for a dire moment of stupidity on my part. I haven't learned, thought about so much in all my life.

Now, having said that, this is by far the HARDEST thing I've ever done in my life. For a lot of reasons.

1- I'm in a new place.

2- I'm alone- and though I usually don't mind this, during the hard-hard times, I could really use a f2f hug and a "It's going to be OK."

3- I had never received a word from God so strongly before that propelled me to do something. I've told you many times how he told me to come here, to only apply to TTU. That makes it more urgent that I stay though recently, I'm ashamed to say, I started to think God didn't tell me anything, and I decided this all on my own...a weak attempt to put it all on me so that I can put tail between legs and leave and not blame God.

4- Read, read, read - I am drowning in words and have no idea how to connect it all into anything meaningful. When I see others that have managed to do so, I feel stupid, inadequate, unable to do it even more.

5- This is, for the most part, a new field for me. This isn't like a Ph.D. in mass comm in which I would be building upon the masters I already have, or a Ph.D. in English... or in Creative Writing, where - again - I would be building upon what I already know. I don't understand half of what gets shoved down my throat, so I don't feel comfortable enough with the material to understand it, synthesize it, and use it. I'm still in the trying to UNDERSTAND part.

The list of reasons could go on, but I think you get the point.

It's hard. It's only going to get harder as I work on annotated bibliographies, papers, studies, and finals within the next four weeks.

Sometimes, I wonder if I squandered time with other things - of course, one can always manage time better, but honestly, aside from this weekly blog and the tweets and Facebook comments I write, my life is compiled of three things - school, eating, and sometimes sleeping. There is hardly room for anything. For others, there might be, but this is my first semester after half a decade out of the classroom as a student, and I'm not as "quick" as I used to be (perhaps that will change after the first semester). Most of my life over the last several months has been right here. Sitting on the chair in front of my laptop while I read and took notes, read and wrote lit reviews, read and tried to develop ideas for paper topics. I mean I got cable two months ago haven't watched a week's worth of TV yet. Haven't watched one full game of football yet. School IS my life. Not sure how healthy that is.

The last few weeks, aside from being beyond tired, I've reached this stage where I get depressed and just don't care. The energy zaps from me and I can barely lift my head from the pillow. I just want to be left alone, in the quiet, to imagine things beyond the here and now.

As this has only gotten worse, I do see God trying to keep my head above water.

Two verses I've received within the last few days have really helped me to cling to whatever's left of my sanity.

And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart - Gal. 6:9

Therefore do not cast away your confidence, which has great reward - Heb 10:35


I do believe this is for my good. I do believe I have grown very weary, and I'm working to see beyond the weariness to the blessing that this journey has been for me.

I do believe I have lost my confidence. Most of the time I feel stupid and unaware of anything significant, but I do believe that if I can regain my confidence and persevere great rewards are there for me to have.


And it's because of these verses...no, scratch that. It's because of GOD that I'm still here because Shonell is bone-weary and spends most of the hours of her day NOT CARING and NOT WANTING TO CARE but God manages to cover all that NOT CARING up and gets me up and wipes the tears and rubs the Bengay on the wrists and massages the temples so that I can do what needs to be done.

Shonell would say right now that she doesn't know what tomorrow will hold for her - will she make it or not? She has not the foggiest.

The God in me, however, would say I will make it. I've already made it, and I'm just going through the journey to the end of it: the great reward.


Right now, I'm too tired to trust anything that's going on in my mind.

I think I'm going to trust God. He's never led me astray. Don't think he would start doing it now.

Managing Happiness...with Writing?

You know, I came to a conclusion recently that was quite baffling: Happiness will hinder my success.

I know what you're thinking, What in the world is wrong with this girl?

I know, I know. But let me explain.

You see, since I've been here, I've lived on a low-grade level of exhaustion. Beneath the eyes that are somewhat open, the mind that is almost alert, the brain cells that try to retain information; I am utterly exhausted.

If I sit in one spot for more than ten minutes, I can assure you that I will pass out, and I probably won't wake up for three, four, sometimes five hours.

Doing all the reading, researching, writing, etc. that I do for school drains me. Not whining. Just stating the obvious.

Anything over what I've been doing exhausts me even more.

One thing I haven't been doing a lot of is being happy. I've just been making do. Waking up, going to classes, reading, maybe spending one evening/afternoon a week with the fellows, perhaps some sleep. Repeat.

Sure, I laugh. Sometimes, I've even fallen into spastic fits of laughter, but it always dies down and I quickly return to somber, stay on track Shon.

There have been moments of happiness over the last few months, and it took me 'til now to realize that this happiness, when I don't manage it, puts me in a drunken stupor, affected my productivity for that day and for a day or two after the happiness has subsided.

SO, what does this mean? Should I just be depressed, sullen? Definitely not because I've been that, too, during this time, and Lord...*shaking head*...it put me into a whole other personality for almost a week.

What it means is that I need to manage my happiness.

Sounds read, I know, but in thinking about my situation, thinking about the six weeks of school left and the two lit reviews, three papers, two studies, and three final exams that must get completed between now and then, believe me, MANAGEMENT is key.

So, how do I manage happiness?

Um...don't know yet. LOL Still trying to figure that out.

I will say this - last week, I decided to jump on board and participate in NaNoWriMo. I've participated the last four years, and each year hit well over the 50k mark on each story. I didn't think I would do it this year. School takes up most of my time, and quite honestly, no idea had popped into my head for the last three months.

Before the last week of October, I always had a story outlined and ready to be written. This time, I had a title, a main character's name, and a loose idea of the basic plot of story. That's it.

And yesterday, first day of NaNo, I cleared the 5,000-word mark (pacing wise, it's good to think of say 1,667 words a day as a goal). Today, I went to Starbucks in the morning and made writing my first to-do of the day. Cross the 8k mark.

What I'm writing probably is crap, but you know what? I'm writing, and I will productive. Not only that, but I'm getting more done with school, too.

Want thing that always amazed me about November is how much I got done. When I was teaching five freshman comp courses and doing other stuff for school and participating in NaNo, nothing ever got slighted and it all got done well.

Maybe sparking my creativity is the happiness I need that will spark me enough to make it through to the end of the semester.

Creativity is not a flash-in-the-pan happiness. It doesn't spark you, drain you, and leave you passed out on the sofa for five hours.

It's a constant thrum, that makes your mind think of plots, characters, tension, climax...makes you happily get through Foucault so that you can get back to writing...makes you think about that to-do list and stay active to complete everything on it so that you can feel accomplished.

SO, in this musing, I guess I realized what can manage my happiness. What can keep me feeling happy and productive in all areas.

Creativity. Writing.

And it knew EXACTLY when to show up.