and if I don’t know every equation
and
trick and formula, no grad school
will
ever accept me. I’ll fail,
and
everyone will laugh,
so I read and reread each chapter
gorging
on each practice problem I can find.
and if I don’t watch the sun rise through the trees
of the
running trail every morning, every
morning,
every morning, I’ll stop
short in
the marathon. I’ll fail,
and
everyone will stare,
so with blisters and swollen ankles and steam
rolling
off my head, I run without excuses.
and if I don’t write every day and revise and rewrite
and read
fifty books a year, no matter how boring,
no
matter how long, nobody
will
publish me. I’ll fail,
and
everyone will yawn,
so I mindlessly fill my journals and notebooks and
journals
and notebooks with poems
and
stories that aren’t worth
the
graphite that they’re scratched out of.
and if I don’t keep my apartment healthy and my diet
spotless
and if my discipline slips and if I
need a
day off, my molasses bed will suck me in,
and I’ll
lose another five years to sweet, sticky
depression.
I’ll fail,
and
everyone will feel bad for me,
so I’m up at four, training and working and chopping
veggies
and studying and reading and writing
and
planning and stressing and fighting
and moving. everything to stop
my restless motor from blowing up.
***
(Cuenca, Ecuador -- May, 2021)
This poem is a reflection on my long and complicated relationship with stress and anxiety. On the one hand, I'm constantly trying to move towards a lifestyle where I can limit the amount of stress and anxiety I feel (I don't think it'll ever go away completely, but there are things that help). On the other hand, that same anxiety, stress, and fear of failure are what have motivated me towards many of my biggest achievements.
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