You are confusing, I am confusing, we don’t know what we want, please let’s make out again and figure it out. You’re a terrible communicator. You are a fascinating human being, you are a contradicting human being, you are wonderful and terrible at once.
does it ever occur to you that he’s been dropping hints all along and month after month after month, they’ve all gone over your head?
- A greater sense of self, because you are fabulous. You are a humorous writer, and a poignant one when needed. You are outspoken and clever, genuine and caring, well-liked and well-respected. None of these skills shine through without your beaming confidence, rooted in your well-esteemed sense of self. Repeat after me: You are wonderful, you are capable, you are.
- A greater adherence to the mandatory routines and commitments of life. Change is coming; law school applications are around the corner, LSAT II is in a little more than two months. There isn’t much time, and there’s a whole lot this year is depending upon. Your grades are crucial. Your exam performance is crucial. This past year was full of sadness, but sadness that begot personal growth (among a sea of losses). This year is for overcoming, and leaping above and beyond what you believed yourself capable of. You are capable of more than you think. Don’t sell yourself short; there are great days ahead, and they are well worth keeping a head up for.
- A more brash degree of honesty with yourself. Self-deciet has done little good for you. You are lazy, you wallow in self-pity, you build monstrous nightmares from meager thoughts. You are adept at distracting yourself with sadness, preoccupying yourself with anxiety. You are flawed, and to address these flaws and mitigate them, you must address them, and embrace change.
- A greater value for free time. Being busy isn’t “fun,” it isn’t “hip,” it isn’t desirable. It is great to be occupied, but busy is a construct. Leave time to yourself, time to run, time to read, time to walk and think and breathe.
- Set cool goals for yourself. By September, you’ll be able to run 3 miles again. You’ll be ready to kill the LSAT, you’ll have a draft of your personal statements scribbled into Microsoft Word. You’ll have a great time reuniting with your friends, you’ll laugh, you’ll drink, you’ll love. Come October, you will be up to 5 miles. You will go to cardio kickboxing twice a week, run five days a week, do yoga once a week to unwind. Midterms will be around the corner, you will kill those. You will ace all of your midterms because you can, because you’re worth it. You will do great things for your residents, and they will value your support to them. You will go to Washington DC to visit your brother, and attend a MUN conference. You will try for an award. Perhaps, the award will be yours, perhaps not, but what matters is that you gave it your all. November, you’ll be up to 7 miles. And in these seven miles, that you will run five days a week, you will begin to feel inner peace with yourself and know that never, in your past, were you able to run seven miles. You will finalize your early decision application to the law school of your choice. At the moment, it’s GWU Law. Perhaps that will change by November. You will start fine-tuning your personal statement, diversity statement, adversity statement, and tell the school of your dreams why you, of all people, belong in the class of 2018. You will work hard, and it will be worth every effort. You will play hard, because it’s the last year you will be as closely surrounded by these incredible people. December, touch upon the 9 mile mark. Finish finals strong. Return home, enjoy the family. Relish in time spent with the people who love you unconditionally. Applaud yourself on surviving the semester. High-five yourself on getting the highest GPA you’ve ever earned in college. Remind yourself, you’re capable of more than you think. Map out Spring Semester in reslife. Scope out study abroad programs for the summer; you deserve this. Keep running, keep kickboxing, keep your head up, keep smiling, keep faith in yourself, you’ve made it this far, and can make it to the end. January, round the corner of 11 miles. Damn, you’re so close! Return to college, ease your way back into your final semester. Live it vividly, laugh often. Kiss boys you’d thought you’d never kiss before, go home with them because your body is wonderful and deserves to be loved. Start up your classes, enjoy the free time. February, the home stretch; hit 13 miles, hit submit on the sea of law school applications; the waiting game begins. Find calamity in this waiting game, know that you’re capable of good things because you can run 13 miles– a feat you once found impossible. You studied economics– another formerly impossible feat. You are miraculous, fighting, relentless, and will earn it all. Find calamity in laughter, in music, in love, in exercise, in friendships, in activity, in learning, and revel in it all. Keep running 13 miles– try 14 if you like, in March, but know that you’ve done great. In March, try to improve your time, run faster. Keep your head in the books, keep running, kicking, punching. Enjoy college, thrive in it’s ephemeral, yet vivacious nature. April, results come out. May, commit to a school, graduate. June, run 13.1 miles. July, go abroad. August, pack your bags for law school.
- Twelve months. You can do this.
The most powerful feeling of all being, not that you are too good for him, nor that he be too good for you, but rather that you are both two separate entities with separate visions, perspectives, and futures, that although align in some ways, fail to in the most important ways of all.
To fully realize and understand that is the fullest feeling of letting go.
i’m always going to care about you a little more than the rest.
- There’s a really, really high chance that one of my coworkers just asked me out. There’s also a really, really high chance he’s attractive, and yet I’m not attracted to him. Because I’m a shitty person who’s into another co-worker who probably doesn’t like me back. Because I suck.
- But this isn’t to deny the fact that once, after several hefty mugs of wine too many, that this disinterested coworker didn’t ask me out to Panera Bread once, upon taking note of my Panera card hanging off my keyring. But he’s silly like that, always asking about my keys and keyrings and why I go to the places I go. Damn introspective analytical genius artist boy.
- There’s also a really high chance I should go to university counseling. But this is what I get for being more up-front with myself, my feelings, and letting others in, right? At least I know people are there for me, which is oddly comforting because of how alone I always feel.
- It’s also quite cloudy, with a super-high chance of multiple breakdowns in one day; over the phone, over text message, in front of a friend. This guilt is eating at me. These feelings of inadequacy are gnawing at my insides, taking over my every feeling. I’m not really happy, but at least I’m making people aware of how unhappy I am? I don’t know. People probably think I’m a headcase. But putting on false pretenses has gotten old for me.
- I think I’ve lost weight and I’m not even mad.
- I’ve definitely gotten checked out at the DC’s and in the library and at other places on campus. Which is like, nice and all, but I really wish my sad feelings didn’t inhibit me from actually feeling hot/sexiii/powerful/FIERCE. Because I just really believe that all the boys at my school are delusional and probably have really bad vision or are probably under the influence of too many drugs to actually discern who’s attractive and who isn’t.
- I’m twenty. I’m a virgin. I feel like this is inhibiting me from feeling confident around boys. I also feel like this should change soon, and I should overcome my lack of sexual confidence and come to terms with the fact that by fearing having sex due to my lack of experience, I’m literally quarantining myself into celibacy until an age where it’s starting to get awkward.
- But also the concept of STD’s and birth control are scary?????????
- I’m going home this weekend because self-loathing and anxiety have gotten the worst of me, but I also feel like home is a trigger for said feelings. This fucking conondrum.
- Also I really just want to go out and get drunk and make bad decisions because I was really well-behaved last weekend.
- I have a microeconomics quiz tomorrow. Look at all the work I haven’t done!
- Stress Relief tea is a godsend, as are all things lavender.
- I don’t really know what’s good for myself until it’s way too late.
- So yeah. i’m hungry and I want a bag of chips but it’s 12:57 am and my body will hate me tomorrow.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and I don’t understand how to make these sad feelings disappear.
They feel like weights, giant dumbells, or something more… gruesome than dumbells; giant sacks of sand on each shoulder, big black bags brimming with grains upon grains of sand that weigh down my shoulders and my mind and my conscience and my entire self. Everything’s going well. Everything’s going splendid. I’ve finally found a major I love, settled into three wonderful social groups and am surrounded by wonderful people. I’ve got a great job that’s nixing my housing bill for the year, and replacing it with a killer stipend. Somehow, I even landed an internship with a top international labor rights organization that’s a mere five-minute drive from campus. Boys are into me. Boys. are. into. me. I’ve met the most amazing boy ever, and even though my hopes aren’t extremely high, we’re friends and that’s something too. I’m losing weight, shaping up, exercising more, eating less (or more of the right foods). I literally do not understand why I’m sad.
But every day I just keep telling myself I’m a fuckup. A worthless piece-of-shit who’s never going to go anywhere, get a job, win over the heart of some actually worthwhile boy, get into law school. I’m just feeling worthless, almost like I want to die, but life’s alright too. I feel like I keep letting people down, that last year I set some sorts of expectations for the social butterfly I was supposed to be, and this year I came in with a fifty-pound bag of guilt hanging in my core, and it’s impossible to ever feel alright. I’m sorry, then. I’m sorry to a ton of people, for not being good enough, for not being outgoing or witty or funny enough anymore, for not being as smart as I sounded on paper, for not being that great at kissing or dancing or loving. I owe apologies left and right and it’s hurting me, I owe apologies to myself and I’m losing track of what for because there’s so many. So maybe this is rock bottom, feeling unwanted by my residents and friends and coworkers and classmates and boys and everyone else in the world. Maybe this is how it feels to be utterly and completely alone. Maybe I want to get out of being alone and don’t know how, because even when I’m surrounded by people, people who love me, people who I love, I still feel alone.