Sometimes I am selfish. I don't always want to share this journey with others, particularly of late. Part selfishness - mostly reservedness - and maybe not only this, but also: if I fail to filter feelings into words, I can pretend that tribulations aren't.
When I do begin to scrape words together, I feel petty in my insecurities. I received a 4.0 for my first semester in college, and my English professor means to use my final project as a resource in her classes, and I have been accepted into the Honors program at Universityland, and... I am still a mess. My feelings may misconstrue the never-ending quandary, but I have always been good at school. As such, these good things surprise no one but yours truly - so I don't perpetuate this work ethic for perpetual pats on the back. Or maybe I do. Maybe this is the issue, for as lovely as accolades are, they do not fulfill me as I wish they would. It would be easier if it were enough, wouldn't it?
The shining academic record and glittering tales of success are an easy way to disguise my worries. Look, I can say, I have saved myself. I am fine; I don't need help. Pretend perfection is my game of choice. Silence is a simple tool. I don't lie - I merely fail to tell, alter feeling until it takes on an acceptable shape.
This is not to say that I hide within my silence well. It isn't even that I am greatly unhappy. Yet there is a disconnect somewhere, a niggling voice inside keeping me from any sort of comfort in asserting myself. I don't want you to know the rough number of times I have overdosed on Cheez Its and British comedy in a fit of wallowing, yet eventually the fact that I have hidden makes me angry, as if you should somehow innately have the power of mind-reading. As if you have no sadnesses of your own.
And my sadnesses feel petty, too. Soon I will be returning to Universityland; my roommate and dear friend will not, as she is taking an internship. I will be okay - it will be okay - everything will be okay. (Mantra.) Because there are always good things. Because I will find things to do, because I will find ways to occupy my mind (see: mountains of homework), because it will be okay. But still I am frantic, ready to return to Universityland but uncertain of how ready I am to be there. Tiny Town Texas is comfortable only in that its incessant sluggishness and unhappiness is unsurprising - but my mother is here, hugs ready at any hour, and my soon-to-be departure is not something I want to think about at any sort of length.
(Silence.)
Breaks from the norm are difficult in and of themselves, for the new and empty space breeds unending worry. I will be okay. It will be okay. Everything will be okay.
Miscellany: a) I no longer eat meat. Adjust your judgements accordingly, as - as you well know- vegetarianism is definitely an evil and conniving cult.
b) The Fault in Our Stars by John Green is positively glorious, and I would recommend your reading it.
c) I send my love.
Like you, I shone through university, for the most part, without overexerting myself. I had a serious breakdown during my last year of university. I, too, hid it well. The result is that I took an extended break from the rigid, linear life-plan I'd plotted in my mid-teens, and rather than already having my real, grown-up career, I;m working as a server at a nice restaurant. It's not mentally gratifying, it still makes me feel embarrassed and like a failure when I really think about it, but then I realize that I'm affording a roof over my head, I'm not stressed out all the time, I've made a lot of new friends, and I have the freedom to live an uncomplicated life, which is something far too often taken for granted, if you ask me.
ReplyDeleteThe point is, even when things don't go how you want or how you'd hoped or how you'd planned, you're bright and independent enough to not fail no matter what. As long as you're true to your attitudes and values, and keep (occasionally attempt) objective perspective, the rest will fall into place. You will be okay. It will be okay. Everything will be okay.
I know this isn't much, but your words fill me with the hopeful emptiness that only comes from the best of stories. Maybe they aren't the easy words, or the right words, but they are beautiful words. That's a start--using the words for something, for anything, just the feel them. (Also, the fact that a picture of Jimmy Stewart sits at the top of this page does not hurt. In fact, it makes this all the more wonderful.)
ReplyDeleteI don't know where fulfillment comes from, or what makes the emptiness fill up, but it must have something to do with happiness. In a way, I don't think you can find this, or search for this, you just have to have it. You do what you can with life, and you feel good about it; you let it be enough for you. It's not easy, but that's the only way I've found for things to feel just right.
Everything will be okay. Fill the time with people you love. Fill it with stories. Fill it with words, whether they are yours or from someone else. I love you. I do no think you are petty; those emotions mean you are alive and trying to be something good.
I said I'd comment so here I am. First off congrats on that 4.0! That's completely awesome.
ReplyDeleteSecondly, I know this probably isn't what you want to hear, but I think after every semester, going back to college after being back home is a bit rough for the first little while.
Just like you fell into a pattern last semester a new one will emerge this semester.
Also have you considered making an online journal that's completely private? What about something like 750words.com or something. It's only for your eyes, it gets out your feelings, but maybe that way if no one sees them it won't feel petty to you.
Though I can say from some experience your feelings are not selfish and most certainly not petty. You go through the growing pains of the first year of college, many many feelings are bound to appear.
*hugs*
As always, your words are breathtaking. Much love and good luck with this new semester. <3 Also, welcome to the cult of vegetarianism, my dear. We are happy to have you. ;)
ReplyDeleteWe all sure hope you get back to posting soon. Tell us about your trip to California! *breathless anticipation*
ReplyDelete