I’ve been struggling with the idea of self-functionality lately. I’m trapped in the enigmatic state of wanting to be and being. Consistently in the back of my mind, I have this voice saying Is that what you’re supposed to be doing? I’m trapped between wanting to follow this ambiguous “path” that every college student is to set out and find. But it’s hard to discern path fidelity.
I’ve grown up in a home where expectations are set high. Grades? Set high. Success? Set high. Knowledge consumption? Set high. It wasn’t a detrimental factor, quite the opposite. I’ve grown up challenging myself. Wanting to be beyond. To reach that next step.
I’m constantly faced with the crippling fear of reality and aging. At some point I’m going to have to sober up — to encounter life in it’s full and slink around the snapping, sharp fangs of disappointment, rejection, fear, failure. Life is moving. It’s twisting and spiraling and linking people and places together, holding them in place. I don’t want to be held in place.
Lately, I’ve found myself working and working towards a class and seeing no success in it. I’m struggling. I’ve tried to fix it. I failed. I’ve sought help. It was to no avail. I keep trying to tell myself that in the long run, it’s not going to matter. In the long run, this one class, this one semester, this one year, is going to be told as a bitter horror story while I’m nursing a martini, sloshing it over my hand, sharing Tales of College Past at a bar with my co-workers down the street of some job I’ll hold at some point in my life. Isn’t that how life goes?
I feel like I’m constantly working. Whether it be physically or mentally, my brain literally cannot stop. I wish I was one of those people who can sit down and just be. But sitting for even five minutes sends my brain into overdrive of what needs done, what will need to be done, when will it need to be done. I’m never stopping. I’m constantly worried about letters.
In reality, that’s what education is anymore. A letter. A dumb, pointless, irrelevant letter of the alphabet, saying if you did what they expected. If you performed how they wanted you to perform. I’m finding as I get older that grades are becoming more and more irrelevant.
Education is important. Knowledge is necessary. I have a lust to learn and improve. To take something and make it better. But I see the world less as a grade and more of an experience. I’m taking in advice and criticism and tweaking it for the next time. I’m swallowing my pride and accepting help, even when I don’t think I need it. Because I’ve reached the point where people’s guileless comments aren’t as damaging anymore.
We’re all pitted against each other. In a way, college is like a poetically tortured metaphor of David and Goliath. We’re all Davids. And we’re all Goliaths. It’s as if we’re skirting around the other, to gauge how they’re doing, to see if we’ve done better or worse. We’re basing our viewpoints against each other. Mentally, we’re destroying each other. Wanting to be better. Wanting to be the victor.
I’m tired. I’m tired of wanting to prove myself. I’m tired of living in a state of ambiguity that is directionless but pragmatic. I want to fast forward but I want to slow down. I’m trapped in a liminal state of transgression.
Mentally, I’m exhausted. But my brain is constantly winding, constantly turning and spinning and creating. And I love it. I love the drive and need to succeed. But sometimes, I just need to shut down. To relax. To breath. I need to stop being and just be.
