It's been 17 days since my semester ended. During those 17 days I've tried to collect myself together and figure out what to do the rest of the summer and thereafter. Watching my peers graduate without me made me bitter, lonely, depressed, happy, and ecstatic. The amalgam of feelings resurrected me.
For the past 6 or 7 months, I thought and thought and thought. I tried to be practical and come up with a solution as to how and why there was any direction in anything that existed. I fixed myself in a pensive position as the world moved past me. I slept during classes, hung out with friends, played basketball, and whatever else I usually did. I even blogged occasionally. But at the same time I was searching for an answer to a question I didn't even ask yet. A trip to PCB revealed a glimpse of what I was looking for. I appreciated the aesthetics and momentarily moved away from pragmatism. I looked out into the Gulf of Mexico, took a deep breath, and then closed my eyes.
"Life: The Never-ending Journey into the Unknown." Having unanswered questions wash away with the waves and then return crashing with the waves became simple. As the tide pulls the water away from between your toes, you remain momentarily above the sand. Problems return to the ocean as your feet begin to dry. But the tide will return eventually, as will the problems. The cycle of moisturizing and evaporating never ends. Problems are always going to be there just like water (fingers crossed). Escaping the waves doesn't mean the waves don't exist. The waves remain there, but the feet become dry. It's a shitty metaphor but it was a start.
The past semester was by far the WORST and HARDEST time of my life. I felt like I was in a different country all by myself. Even though I was in the company of my closest friends, I still felt like Robinson Crusoe. My problems started confounding and -just like the economy- the downward spiral continued. I continued to plummet into new rock bottoms so often that life was giving me the People's Eye. I often told myself, "You're finally at rock bottom now." Only to find myself in a new hole. I lost all hope. My youthful optimism that invigorated me up every day disappeared. I was in the middle of my own Dust Bowl.
Seventeen days ago, I found myself depressed. It was normal as I had already realized the lingering condition following me everywhere I went. It didn't help that I was celebrating my friends graduating and moving on. I felt like I was being left in the dust. Feeling alone while not actually being alone is probably one of the worst feelings ever. I found no joy in anything. Everything started to become sepia-toned then black and white. I found myself in Pleasantville.
I'm not really sure what happened, but I snapped out of it. Life is in color. I can't describe problems with a complex/simple metaphor using the beach. The genuine happiness I had for my friends being overwhelmed by my depression is stupid and a waste of time. My youthful optimism had not returned, but instead a matured optimism with a sense of realism. It's been about two weeks and I feel better than ever. My problems are still there, but I'm dealing with it better than I did 17 days ago.
I tried searching for answer to a problem and instead ended with nothing but wasting time. For example, I had trouble discerning between confidence and cockiness. I admire one and despise the other. Exuding confidence displays positive effects that tend to rub off on other people; exuding cockiness tends to rub people off the other way. (Yes, pun intended haha.) I wanted to be confident without being called cocky; I wanted to be humble like Rose, but not narcissistic like Lebron. Being called cocky is offensive. Retorts like "I call it confidence" or "psh, I ain't cocky" automatically places a negative label over you. MJ (both) was confident as well as cocky. He was the greatest to ever play (and sing), but no one had any qualms with their demeanor. Blah blah blah. What's the point in caring? It's a waste of time to be self-serving, self-conscious, and selfish when there are greater problems in Joplin and other places around the world.
I can't sleep at night sometimes because of how excited I am to wake up the next morning. I haven't felt so alive in a long time. It feels like I went from greaser to jock to greaser.
I think I've watched one too many seasons of Scrubs in the past few days. But I have no regrets. It's entertaining and gets me thinking about life. I find it uncanny that I have the same quirky features as JD, a fictional character who has a inner monologue that is childishly amusing and realistically wise. Meh. It really doesn't matter since it's just a TV show.
I'm looking forward to tomorrow! Sucks that my brother's leaving for Boston already. Oh well, such is life
No comments:
Post a Comment