But no, in all seriousness, I am fucking exhausted. I don't know who's reading this, but I guess for once I don't care. I want to talk, but I have no one to turn to. It's either you're not here or you just don't understand.
I think everyone must go through some kind of identity crisis at my age, right? You're being forced to continue with institutionalized education even though you've been hating it for 12 years, and everyone is pressuring you to decide what you're gonna do. What the fuck are you going to do? The crisis, for me, is simple. I don't belong in this paradigm. I know exactly who I am... well, I don't really know what it means to know "who you are," but I do know what makes me happy, what doesn't, what I believe in, how various types of experiences make me feel. I know a lot because there is only one thing I'm not afraid of, and that's digging deep inside of my own heart and mind, gathering images and taking notes. It's all I've ever been good at, all I've ever really accomplished, in as long as I can remember. I've found a lot in there.
You know, I'm getting the hang of college. Or, I was. It's not so different from high school. Each professor wants to take away a specific part of your soul - it's easy to find, easy to remove and hand over. You get by. You can be an overachiever or you can be a slacker; you can be outgoing and have everyone know your name, or you can be the loner and sit in the corner that people will later remember being an empty spot. There are still clicks - the people in them are just more open-minded, or at least they were in the beginning. I guess everything begins that way, and slowly narrows over time. I don't want that to happen to me. I don't want it for my mind or for my heart. I want to be open forever and ever and ever and-- But what I don't get is why someone else has decided everything for me. It seems as though they had before I was even born. There's a preset path, a conveyor belt. You stare at the back of someone's head for your whole life and someone else is staring at yours. I have no alternative right now. Everyone tells me that means I have to stay. I know that if I were smart, I would, and I am smart, but when I get to thinking, I'm really not sure why. Is it, like, if I can't be who I want to be, this way I'll always be able to fall back on the cubicle life? Is it really? Because I've never been one to settle, really. I'm an all or nothing type of person. That's why I'll be celibate for life; that's why I don't skip class; that's why I never quit anything that I think might pan out. But I don't think this will.
I am a very eclectic person and my interests are as varied as a film snob's trivia repertoire. I'd like to think I'd be happy anywhere, although I don't see why someone as smart and strong-willed as I should have to settle for something very far down on the list. My top five jobs, in order, are: musician, writer, nonprofit executive/founder, artist, and clinical psychologist. Clinical psychology is essentially a pipe dream because there's no way in hell I'm staying in school until I'm 27, or older! The first four jobs are all entrepreneurial, based on talent, based on determination, to an extent. There are plenty of professionals in each of those categories who have no college education whatsoever. Does a degree enhance those, as any, fields? Surely. But it is not entirely necessary, and I don't think that being utterly miserable is some sort of "rite of passage" to living life. (And if it is, I think I've gone long enough already!)
Would I have nothing to do if I dropped out? No way. I would have busy days holed up in my bedroom playing music; writing songs, stories, articles, and whatever else; working diligently on the website for my aspiring organization; drawing; volunteering; probably working some kind of part- or full-time job; and whatever else I feel like. To me, that is not doing nothing. Also, while everyone tells me if I really love those things I should be doing them in my spare time (AND I AM), I feel that any one of them would have a better chance of panning out if I didn't have this big ugly raincloud of "homework" looming over me every second of every day. Honestly. Common sense. Everyone calls me naive, says I simply NEED college, that I have no idea what I'm talking about, that I don't know where I'll be, but I'm pretty sure I have a deeper understanding of my life and my needs than anyone else could. I'm not some lazy teenager; I am just someone who knows exactly where she wants to go, and that the beaten path can't take me there. Why doesn't anybody get it?! I may only be in school for three days a week, but I have to be in the dorm doing nothing for another one, and on those three days, I have no free time. I have to spend the entirety of the remaining four days doing school work. I'm taking 19 credits. I don't even want to talk about it. To be completely honest, I love learning. Most college students don't. I just hate institutionalized education. Most college students don't. I know a lot because I teach myself. I learn best when I can choose the schedule, when my progress isn't being assessed by someone who doesn't know anything about me. I'm fucking Socrates.
This is making me insane. No, really. I was trying to force myself to write a paper on medieval miracle plays earlier today, while simultaneously working on some Java problems, and worrying about memorizing some ancient songs, reading more plays, and writing a paper about some arbitrary business topic (which I have to do every single week, mind you). Anyway, I was thinking about school and I started to feel like I couldn't feel anything anymore. I couldn't get into the work at all, but it wasn't just that. I lost my sense of being, almost. I had this impossible need to cry... I put on a sad movie, Garden State, my favorite. I watched it all the way through like a zombie, and nothing happened. I do believe I smiled at the ending, but I didn't cry one tear. I put on some sad songs that never fail to make me cry, and still nothing happened. I just lay still on my bed for awhile letting iTunes choose some music for me to listen to, and suddenly I just felt trapped in my own body. Like, I just wanted to get out, but I couldn't. I started... I don't know what you would call it, writhing? Every part of my body began to feel restless, and I couldn't keep still. I couldn't lie flat on the bed; I couldn't stop clenching and unclenching my fists, and kicking my legs, and turning my body different ways, back and forth and back and forth. I think I got some very, very frustrated tears out of that endeavor, yes. Hallelujah, huh? I don't know what that was. A common panic attack, something no one's ever experienced before, or something in between. I mean, I'm used to forgetting how to breathe, but this was far more intense.
Thank you, New Jersey, for the free shitty food, dirty living quarters and dirty looks, and all the great, great, great, great knowledge. I'd just like to thank you for making me feel trapped in the only place I ever had any hope of loving, belonging. I know I earned it, being a chump for 12 years, doing everything they told me to, just saying "no" to my dreams, swallowing my pride and my self esteem with it, and allowing you to tell me I was doing the right thing. Thanks.
This is just one of those times... I'm not really sure if it will get better anymore. All the hope I've had, it's been taken away from me. I try to get it back, but I'm so tired. My eyes sting, and I can barely move my arms enough to finish typing this. And I've been listening to the Bouncing Souls for a couple of hours, yes. It's almost like there's nothing left.
SORRY I'M EMO. If anyone cares. I really am sorry. I'm a fucking pushover - I'll take any amount of discomfort to make other people comfortable. But today, I just suddenly don't care. I just want someone to fucking talk to. And not on here, either. Someone real with a kind face and open arms and a warm hug and... the answer. I want a friend. Siiiiiigh.