As I opened my eyes this morning I realized that I had fallen asleep at 6 pm (nearly sixteen hours earlier). The fan was still whirring in the window, blowing cold morning air on my oh so well rested skin. The one sliver of light that shone through the blinds happened to land directly on my eyelids, as it happens to do no matter what time I wake up. I am not sure why I let myself stay in bed so long, or fall asleep so early for that matter, but I think it had something to do with my unwillingness to face the girls on the other side of my door. Sometimes dorm life is certainly not for me. Sometimes I simply cannot venture from my side of that solid wood plank to theirs. They giggle. A lot. They move. A lot. They do all the things that some days I cannot do because of, hell I have no idea why. I have those days where I cannot face them because they are both the judge and jury, both supportive and secretive. We were thrown in the mix and told to live together. In many ways it is like prison, I suppose.
I made the leap of faith today: I scheduled my classes for next year. Looking at that long list of long names followed by even longer winded professors almost sent me spinning into meltdown mode. I will never ever graduate. Ever. And I will live in this half prison for the rest of my life (or at least it feels like it).
The only thing that kept me going today (other than the fact that I will not need to sleep for the next two days) was the weather. It is perfect. I should have spent the day outside rather than in stuffy classrooms panicking about the future. Why can't I just stop for a minute and smell the literal roses? Maybe its because every time I stop my future becomes less and less structured to the point that I am caught off guard by something. I hate being caught off guard by anything. That would mean I didn't know something. My psychotherapy class would call this "anxiety brought on by a fear of failure". Well ya, that's what it is, but how do I stop it?
I think I might start with baby steps. All I have to do is find a freakin' rosebush.
1 comment:
oh, dorm life. i wanted to literally kill myself the first year. i had a completely psychotic roommate who was about 4 foot tall, left a rotting pumpkin in our room for three months, and always took her mattress off the top bunk in order to sleep on the floor at night. i was miserable. i hated the city. i hated the stink of the poop factory at the bottom of the hill. i hated that there were no stars. i hated curfew. i hated, what seemed to be, all the fake people here at (CBC). i hated it.
and then, i stopped hating it. i got good roommates, wonderful floormates, and somehow grew immune to the sulfuric-shit smell coming from below the hill. i began to see that even some of the fake people on campus are only that way because they are scared. i even started to see the well-lit city lights as imitation stars.
for me, at least, it all came together. i hope it does for you, too.
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