Begone, Panic Attacks

I've started this blog because, apparently, I've become panic-attack girl (defender of all that's good, unless she's pacing the apartment, crying and nauseous. If she is, and she usually is, go find another superhero). My idea is that somehow airing my emotional dirty laundry to the world will help the anxiety I have about the unformed and scary future go away.

Maybe I should re-think this plan...

Anyway, here's my deal. I did my undergrad in Voice Performance (that's Opera Singing) at Rutgers (holla New Jersey!) without really knowing why I was doing it. Then I had a breakdown Senior year 'cause of the performing stress. A trusted colleague had said to me "if there's anything else you can do with you life, DO IT." I took his advice to heart and decided to explore the possibilities of teaching, even though I had no certifications.

Fast-forward four years later. I'm married and living in Ithaca cause my adorable and genius hubby is getting his doctorate at Cornell. I've been a teaching assistant and substitute teacher, an after-school program employee, and an English teacher in Japan. I am currently a teaching assistant in a school for "children with disabilities" (if that isn't a euphemism, I don't know what is). And I'm miserable. I'm angry. I'm resentful that my husband gets to do what he loves while I get paid peanuts to have angry children throw desks at me. As a result I cry while doing dishes and scream at the hubby because he never does the dishes (whether this is actually true or not, we'll never know).

Long story short: I decide to try to go back to singing. I fail miserably several times (Ithaca College, you're on my list). Finally I get into Syracuse University, into a program which is not well-known and will cost tons of cash, which I realistically may never be able to pay back. Any singer/businessperson/rational human being will tell you that this is not a good move to make. But I'm desperate, so I do it.

And here I am. I've just graduated. I've made some good progress with singing and performing. And now I am FREAKING OUT. Again, to keep things brief and concise, here's a short list of exactly what I'm freaking out about:

1) I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm just not quite good enough for this career
2) Even if I was, I'm now five years behind. Everything I'm doing now, I should have been doing five years ago
3)I'm almost thirty and my biological clock is ticking LIKE THIS.
4) Opera and family do not go hand-in-hand
5) I'm scared of everything

Okay, I think that's enough personal information vomited into cyberspace for one posting. Plus I feel guilty about all the stuff I'm not doing (yoga, cleaning, working on my career, practicing). And just writing this has made my heart rate speed up.

I need to chill out! I'm definitely open to suggestions as to how to do this.

Next time: More neurotic ramblings! I am traveling to NYC for a lesson (scary, of course!) this weekend, so I'm sure that will open up a whole new can of worms. I know: You can't wait. Neither can I.