So many thoughts have been swirling through my head!
I’m trying not to check my email so much because I realized I’m much more stressed/anxious/nervous about grad school stuff than I had previously thought. I turned off the notifications on my phone. I don’t know if I was this nervous a year ago. I probably was, I just don’t remember.
Yesterday, I had an emotional breakdown. I cried last year too but that was after I had actually gotten all the rejections. This time I cried preemptively. It wasn’t really preemptive though.
I think I cried because I couldn’t deal with the idea of not getting in anywhere. A year ago, I thought I wanted to do Classics but I wasn’t really sure. Now, I couldn’t see myself doing anything else. The prospect of not being able to do the one thing I feel like I should be doing is kind of hard to deal with.
I’m not big on plan Bs. I rarely have them. I think they leave little room for spontaneity and freedom. Maybe that’s a naive notion though. In any case, I kind of have a plan B this time around. I was basically offered a job that sounds pretty cool. The only thing is…I’m a brat. I’m a spoiled brat. I don’t know how it happened, it just did. My brother and sister aren’t (at least not in the same way), but I really am.
I’m spoiled because I can’t do things that I don’t want to do. It’s hard for me. Even when money is involved. There have been times I’ve turned down or even canceled job interviews because I knew I wouldn’t want to do the job. I just knew I wouldn’t enjoy it.
I always thought I was the type of person who could just do anything and make myself like it or at least have enough fulfilling relationships that what I did didn’t matter. That was until this past summer. It wasn’t until I was applying for jobs that I realized I just couldn’t do some things. I won’t pretend like I purposely tanked any interviews because I would never do that. (Honestly, I think that’s a little unethical. Or at least inconsiderate.) However, I will admit to not showing up for some (which is equally, if not more, inconsiderate/unethical and for that I am sorry.)
After my breakdown, I prayed because that seemed like the best thing to do. It was. Then, a few hours later, I spoke to my mom and brother. They gave me good, if not somewhat opposing, pep talks. They covered all the bases. Then, I decided to not torture myself. I’m glad I did that. Then, I decided to turn off email notifications and not have that tab continuously open on my browser. I’m pretty happy with that decision.
The other day, my friend asked me what I thought the most confusing thing about being 22 was. The question was, I imagine, partly in jest (maybe ‘in jest’ isn’t the right turn of phrase. More like, ‘not meant to be a super huge philosophical/existential question’). Either way, I think the most confusing thing about being 22 is that you feel everything so potently for the first time and it hurts a little (sometimes a lot). By the time you’re 22, you’ve probably experienced love, loss, heartbreak, loneliness, rejection, acceptance, genuine happiness, genuine sadness, independence, constraints, and a litany of other things. For most, it’s an introduction to the ‘real world’ that you couldn’t have been ready for even if you studied super hard. It’s not a test. It’s life. It’s adult life. And that can be pretty scary. It can also be pretty cool. As T Swift said, “Yeaaaaaaah, we’re happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time. It’s magical and miserable. oh yeaaaaaaaah!”
I’m not a huge Swift fan but I am feeling 22 and stressed about what my future may look like.