Lilac Colored Glasses

If you ask me when I’m awake, I’ll tell you that I’m totally unstressed.

I have a wonderful boyfriend who loves me and two sweet cats who cuddle up to sleep with us on most nights. I have a job that seems relatively secure, pays a decent wage, and is not too much of a drag. I’m getting married in less than 4 months and I’m totally excited for it.

All the plans have basically been made. Now it’s just a matter of hammering out small details with the photographer and DJ. So really, I have no real reasons to be stressed.

Which is why I can’t really figure out why I have only slept through one night in the past two weeks.
And why my tri-yearly migraines have suddenly become almost a daily thing.
And why my stomach constantly aches or feels too full when I don’t usually find myself eating very much on a daily basis.

Why am I having nightmares so frequently? And why has the recurring nightmare of being attacked/bitten by large, hairy spiders suddenly been replaced by humiliating scenarios in which I am back in high school and basically told by my entire soccer team that I’m not good enough to play and that I’ll be the only person riding the bench the whole game?

I really love my wedding dress.
Why did seeing a picture of myself wearing it fill me with disgust?
I’ve lost almost 20 pounds since that picture was taken. Why do I still want to gag when I look at myself in the mirror?

I keep seeing old friends on Facebook and it really looks like most of them have gotten nothing but thinner and healthier, while I still have about 30 pounds to lose just to be in a normal weight range. I hate it. I feel like I’ll never ever ever look how I wish I looked.
I keep seeing old friends who have careers and post grad degrees and families of three or four, while I’m working as a barista in a train station with a useless bachelors and pretty much no hope of anything higher unless we move back to the US.
There are a few job opportunities in Gent to work with children right now that don’t require a language test, but I’m afraid to apply. I don’t want to apply. I’ve never been a job hopper. I prefer to settle in, get comfortable, feel useful. And even if I did apply and get the job, with the experiences I’ve had so far in Belgium with childcare, I don’t trust that I won’t be abused for my labor somehow.

And all in all, my “step up” from coffee maker would be to “glorified babysitter.”

Yes, I know that I, of all people, should not think of things that way. I know that childcare workers are important and that caring for a classroom of 20 two year old children is a lot harder and more involved than babysitting for one or two children. I know that most parents truly and sincerely appreciate the people that care for their child(ren) on a daily basis. I know I would play an important role in a little person’s life.

But the salary and the social status pretty much says it all: glorified babysitter.

A big part of me wants that masters, or even that doctorate; wants that ability to choose between hands on or academia; wants to take my visions of early childhood education to another level.

But another big part of me just wants the first part to shut up and be happy with what I have: the amazing boyfriend, the sweet cats, the stable job, a roof over my head.

Because really, I have no reason to be stressed.