Drifting
My emotions are like a tidal wave at the moment. They're going up and down right under my skin, sometimes so close to the surface that I could just break down and cry. It's somehow cruel that I'm this unstable and lost when physically I'm doing so much better. I have more energy and more initiative. But when I think about the present or the future, my stomach turns and my heart crumples.
I couldn't do the 4000 words essay. Well. Technically I still could since it's due on Friday, but I don't exactly see myself spitting it out in time. Cruel thing yet again. I wanted to get started on it so bad. I really liked the subject and was excited about doing the research and writing. Unfortunately I got smacked in the face with a writer's block of quite epic proportions. After receiving those disappointing grades, my love for the subject turned to insecurity and my enthusiasm to fear. That shows the sorry state of my stability I'd say.
I wanted to succeed on this essay. But I thought I had succeeded on the past ones. I hadn't. Not like I thought I would. So there was even more pressure to succeed on this one instead, to finally have some token of my ability - a beacon to shine light on the road ahead, giving me confidence to keep going. At the same time there was even more insecurity since my good vibes about the past few essays proved mistaken. This turned out to be a rather lethal combination. Which gave birth to a blockade that would've made Caesar proud.
It's every so slightly ironic that I should fail by wanting to succeed. And that if I had wanted to succeed, I should have stopped caring about succeeding. The thought of it really makes my skin crawl. And I'm angry. With myself. I still have a hard time accepting that I'm really letting this slip out of my hands when I'm hardly depressed anymore. I mean. How can I? How can I do this? When it's so important to me? (yes the right answer is because it is so important to me and now shut up). I can't even express how unconfident I currently feel about the next period which starts coming week. Actually I feel pretty unconfident about achieving anything meaningful in general by now. What I've accumulated so far in accomplishments hardly piles up to something to fall back on. Or even look back on. There's nothing in the past, nothing in the present, nothing that I can know about the future. I feel like I'm drifting in an empty space.
My parents asked me what I was trying to proof, trying to achieve. What I was looking for. What did I really want? I was silent for a bit. They asked if I maybe didn't know. I said sure I knew. But that I was looking for something that I'd already lost. Wanting something that I couldn't have anymore: Having the control of my mind and body to do something when I damn pleased to. Throughout the year. Instead I have to fight for things most people don't even think about. Nearly all days are a struggle like this and I have to somehow be happy with rewards that are so bleak that they might as well not be there. I refuse. As soon as I have the chance, I want to be back in command. I want to get something done that I can be truly happy about. If anything, I've become even more ambitious, more zealous and more tough on myself. And it turns out it isn't helping. But how to get rid of it? How can I let go and be more careless, when I'm already out of charge for the most part of the year?
I wondered why I hadn't really cried over my grandpa's death. It had been similar with my grandmother last year. I loved them both dearly. Yet I could let them go in peace. I think it has something to do with me experiencing the loss of something more vital to my existence. And that mourning this takes a bigger place in my heart. Bigger than I had realised.
I couldn't do the 4000 words essay. Well. Technically I still could since it's due on Friday, but I don't exactly see myself spitting it out in time. Cruel thing yet again. I wanted to get started on it so bad. I really liked the subject and was excited about doing the research and writing. Unfortunately I got smacked in the face with a writer's block of quite epic proportions. After receiving those disappointing grades, my love for the subject turned to insecurity and my enthusiasm to fear. That shows the sorry state of my stability I'd say.
I wanted to succeed on this essay. But I thought I had succeeded on the past ones. I hadn't. Not like I thought I would. So there was even more pressure to succeed on this one instead, to finally have some token of my ability - a beacon to shine light on the road ahead, giving me confidence to keep going. At the same time there was even more insecurity since my good vibes about the past few essays proved mistaken. This turned out to be a rather lethal combination. Which gave birth to a blockade that would've made Caesar proud.
It's every so slightly ironic that I should fail by wanting to succeed. And that if I had wanted to succeed, I should have stopped caring about succeeding. The thought of it really makes my skin crawl. And I'm angry. With myself. I still have a hard time accepting that I'm really letting this slip out of my hands when I'm hardly depressed anymore. I mean. How can I? How can I do this? When it's so important to me? (yes the right answer is because it is so important to me and now shut up). I can't even express how unconfident I currently feel about the next period which starts coming week. Actually I feel pretty unconfident about achieving anything meaningful in general by now. What I've accumulated so far in accomplishments hardly piles up to something to fall back on. Or even look back on. There's nothing in the past, nothing in the present, nothing that I can know about the future. I feel like I'm drifting in an empty space.
My parents asked me what I was trying to proof, trying to achieve. What I was looking for. What did I really want? I was silent for a bit. They asked if I maybe didn't know. I said sure I knew. But that I was looking for something that I'd already lost. Wanting something that I couldn't have anymore: Having the control of my mind and body to do something when I damn pleased to. Throughout the year. Instead I have to fight for things most people don't even think about. Nearly all days are a struggle like this and I have to somehow be happy with rewards that are so bleak that they might as well not be there. I refuse. As soon as I have the chance, I want to be back in command. I want to get something done that I can be truly happy about. If anything, I've become even more ambitious, more zealous and more tough on myself. And it turns out it isn't helping. But how to get rid of it? How can I let go and be more careless, when I'm already out of charge for the most part of the year?
I wondered why I hadn't really cried over my grandpa's death. It had been similar with my grandmother last year. I loved them both dearly. Yet I could let them go in peace. I think it has something to do with me experiencing the loss of something more vital to my existence. And that mourning this takes a bigger place in my heart. Bigger than I had realised.
Replies
sounds like performance anxiety. I know, teachers can be cruel with their grades. Seems as if they don\'t even give an A for effort, if you know what I mean. I had a teacher like that in college. He was an asshole. Your work is great, no matter what any teacher\'s pen might indicate.