No Residency For You

On Friday night the fifth Lesley MFA in Creative Writing residency began, and I was not there. In fact, aside from the three days at the end of next week when I have a class to teach, a reading to give, and a graduation ceremony to attend, I won’t be part of this residency at all. I’m a graduating student now, and I feel like that means I’m out of the club. These residencies have meant the world to me over the past two years and on Friday afternoon, thinking about it all being over, I glimpsed, for the first time in a long time, that black hole in my soul that my Bradford friends used to call the “yawning chasm of pain”.

I was terribly depressed. Not only would I not be attending the opening festivities, or the first night reading, but I wouldn’t be able to participate in any of the readings all week. Since I have to be back at home every night to give Stephanie shots, I can’t be out and about. I can’t celebrate this closure of one chapter of my life because I’ve already moved on to the next chapter.

Our hope is that we’ll book a hotel room close to campus for the nights where I need to be in Cambridge. That way, I can hurry back to the hotel to administer the shot and still have time to socialize and attend events. But I couldn’t even think about that and be positive. After all, this would mean spending money that we don’t have right now. And that just made me feel guilty.

The weight of the decisions I’ve made over the last couple of months all came crashing down on me on Friday and, while I have no regrets, I feel positively overwhelmed.

It doesn’t help that Stef had a couple of cold-like symptoms today, during these few days when the critical business of the embryo implanting is beginning to take place. My nerves were just positively shot when she told me that. I’m glad she ended up spending most of the day in bed. By the time I got home, she was feeling much better. But it was still a horrible day.