Perspective

In 1988, a girl named Michaela was abducted in Hayward, CA. In 1989, a girl named Ilene was abducted in Dublin, CA. Both were so near my own hometown of Pleasanton that, for years, I was convinced I would be abducted. I can remember going into my parents room to sleep in their bed because I was petrified but would never admit the cause of my fear. Michaela was abducted from a grocery store parking lot, and I was scared to death every time I entered one. As an adult, I wonder if my refusal to name the fear out loud was some way of trying to protect myself from it.

I've had a rough week. It feels like no matter how much time I spend on my school work, it will never be satisfactorily "done." Most of my work this semester feels like work instead of pleasure. I've put so much pressure on myself as as a result of this PhD application process that the whole thing makes me feel overwhelmingly overwhelmed.

Tonight, after a class that drained rather than energized me, I came home and discovered this article on people.com. I started thinking about how this one man has stolen the lives of Jaycee Dugard and the girls she bore after he violated her, how he possibly stole the lives of Michaela and Ilene, and how his actions trickled down far enough to terrify a little A's fan in Pleasanton so profoundly that she couldn't even speak about it.

These days, if I have trouble sleeping at night, it's because there are too many ideas in my head. Instead of kidnapping, it's Willa Cather. I guess I'll take it. There are bigger fears out there than "I am never going to finish this reading," or "I have no idea how to provide feedback on this paper," or even "What will I do if I don't get into the PhD program?" Hopefully, the work I have to do tomorrow will feel more like the privilege it really is than the burden it was beginning to become.