Just Another Cottage in Blogville

Si habría sabido...

If I had known how paralyzingly hard college would be, I would have appreciated high school so much more. While living through high school, all that kept me going was the idea that, one day, I would escape to college where I would fit in, classes would be interesting, I could do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, and all of the problems I was dealing with at the time would evaporate by then. Surely I would have outgrown them...

But it didn't happen that way. People are still assholes, I still get cold with loneliness, classes are a drag to get through these days, and I really don't have time to do anything but procrastinate, which isn't having time at all. In fact, there is a number of things I should be doing right now, but I just feel so paralyzed within myself that I can't bring myself to do them. Spring fever, you might call it. My room is a mess, I'm getting over pink eye, I need to do the dishes, I need to dust, to vacuum, to wash my bedding, to lose the weight I picked up last semester... write a five-page paper... read 100 pages and write a response... for tomorrow... It's just too much.

My best friends were always there in high school. After school, we would go for walks or hang out in an empty room. We had classes together, often the hardest ones, and could work with each other on homework and everything in between. Sure, there were a lot of limitations, but college wasn't as freeing as I thought it would be. In fact, college has forced me to face things that I was able to push away in high school -- self-esteem issues, depression & anxiety, and recovery from an abusive relationship. I didn't care what anyone thought of me in high school because I was so confident that things would be better in college; everyone told me I'd fit in; but it didn't happen that way. Au, contraire...

Why don't they make spring break actually in spring rather than the bloody end of February? For goodness sake, the weather is gorgeous (mostly), and I can't focus on a thing because my brain is just giving out. Some kind of autopilot is keeping me going, because I'm still accomplishing what I did before (except with schoolwork quality), but totally lack the energy.

Alas, this is part of the sacrifice I make so I don't have to work as a hostess on minimum wage for the rest of my life. I suppose it'll be worth it in the end. That is, I hope it'll be worth it in the end.

What a shame that I'm eighteen and crying if only, if only, and mourning something that, according to adults, is absolutely nothing compared to what's to come. Dear God, and they wonder why college kids' suicide rates are escalating. Hopefully my next entry will not be so nostalgic and won't have 'woe is I' written all over it.

Blessings to you all.