In the Pit of Despair

You know how in "The Princess Bride" Count Rugen tells Westley (in that silky, charmingly evil voice of his) "I've just sucked one year of your life away"? That's what my midterms are telling me right now. 

Ooh, the pain.

Seriously, though, I am so swamped this week. Whose brilliant idea was it to have my History midterm, my Russian midterm, my Economics midterm, an English essay, a mandatory Mythology lecture, AND Russian homework all due within seven days of each other? The stress is getting to me. It feels like dying slowly. 

Furthermore, the more stressed I am, the more I want to shy away from the overwhelmingness of it all and take refuge in a good book (The Once and Future King), film (Beauty and the Beast), or other sundry activity (cleaning my room, exercising, writing, drawing, sleeping, and . . . erm, blogging), which in turn leads to not enough studying being done, which in turn leads to more stress, which in turn shunts me further down the path of denial.

It is a cruel, vicious cycle, and it is obvious what I need to do to stop it, but it is quite hard. It is much, much easier, I find, to shrink from a fear than it is to face it. A sentiment which I have recognized as long as I can remember from the books I read, of course, but one which has quite a personal meaning now.

You know, imagination might be my saving grace here, unlikely though that may sound. When I was little and I would catch fever or the flu, I would lie curled up miserably in my bed and imagine that my antibodies were an army of white-clad knights, and the germs were horrific creatures and black-helmed warriors who were invading, and the two armies were fighting this cataclysmic battle over my health. 

Bizarre? Well, yes, but it did help take my mind off of how wretched I was feeling.

A similar scenario might be necessary to get me through this week. This loooong list of problems isn't my economics study sheet at all, no sir! It is a set of riddles set to me by the Sphinx which guards the ancient gateway that I must pass, and therefore I must solve them all by the time four nights have passed, or else I am worsted! And nighttime mythology lecture? No, not at all! It is a secret meeting of the rebel group where we must listen carefully to our leader's presentation in order to follow his instructions properly and thereby win the war! Who cares losing two hours of sleep for that, right?

. . . I'll work on it. And to conclude with my beautiful "Princess Bride" analogy, it is comforting to know that though the week will be hard, I will at least come out of it only "mostly dead".