Finding Peace

Since finishing my internship in June and graduating with my Master’s in July, I’ve been on what seems like a non-stop roller coaster. With one transition happening after another, I was enjoying the ride…constantly tired, a bit overwhelmed, but I was so thrilled to be done with school after 9 long (and expensive) years, that I had a desire to hit the ground running. And what I was running on, was that pure I’m-done-with-school-and-I-can-finally-practice-my-passion adrenaline rush.

And it finally just caught up with me.

And slapped me in the face.

Hard.

For the last two weeks I’ve felt sub-par….enter: today. I found that I had no voice. Immediately, I freaked out. I even “squeaked” to someone,

“I can’t lose my voice! My voice is my livelihood!!”

…who knows what I meant by that. The point being, I felt defeated. Losing my voice was NOT an option at this moment – not when my job required me to be able to sing and verbally communicate with my clients! (For the record, you can actually communicate A LOT just through instruments.)

I also started to think about how this would hurt me financially. I was already reliant on the help available from National Debt Relief at that moment in time. Being paid by the hour (with no benefits or sick leave) meant that I would lose all income during the time I had no voice. I needed so desperately to pay my student loans (& my husband’s), as well as the growing stack of soon-to-be-paid-late bills. There are companies like SoFi that can help you pay off your student loans whilst saving money, I’m glad that option is around.

At the apex of my worrying whirlwind of anxious thoughts, I started to realize: I needed this.

Having no voice has not only made my mouth stop running…it has also helped with my racing thoughts. It has calmed me down in a sense. I was actually able to set aside my phone, as I knew I would not be able to talk (I did try calling a couple of people at first, but soon realized that no one could understand my squeaks anyway). When communicating with my husband, I felt as though my actions and words were more meaningful – that I had given them more thought before I (attempted to) say them, since it took a great amount of effort and patience to successfully get across my message.

And the SILENCE. What a beautiful thing.

By now, I’ve calmed down and accepted the fact that I can’t do anything about my voice being gone…and that I need to rest my voice & drink plenty of water (for my health, of course, but also so my SLP friends don’t get mad at me for “vocal abuse”) :).

I feel like meditating. I want to embrace this “quiet” mind. I want to remember what this feels like when my life is going a million miles a minute.

I just need to BREATHE.