Moving On

Sometimes, a heavy amount of disappointment is necessary in life, and over the years, I’ve been learning to accept my failures and the disappointments in my life so that I can learn from them.  It’s a slow process, but I’m getting better at it.  Not to mention that the thought always ticks in the back of my mind, “Everything always works out.  One way or another.”  And it really does.  It’s just the journey of getting there that I hate.  After all, I’m a big picture person.

Today I’m driving back home.  It’ll be the first time of driving the three and a half hours all by myself, but I’m kind of looking forward to it.  I’ll play some soft music and just think.  Think and think and think.  It’s my favourite activity in the world, and driving and thinking is probably the best thing ever.  So, with those hours to sort through some things in my life that are still bugging me, I think that I’ll reach home quite refreshed.

Yesterday was actually a really good day.  Even with the email, the rest of the afternoon and evening… well, were spot on.  It was a reminder of how much I appreciate the people around me in one north and how much I would have missed them if I really was an SA next year.  Also, the idea of being room mates with Katie is a good thing, and I talked to Katie’s current room mate, Jackie, about it yesterday.  Jackie is a very encouraging person, and she informed me that the room was twice the size of my current room and that I would love it and that she’d have to show me the room more so that I could get a feel for it.  I’m sad to say that she will be living off campus next year, because she’s such a kind person.

I encountered a lot of kind people yesterday.  Everyone had been rooting for me, and I had let them down, but they were compassionate.  I ended up sending comments back and forth with one of my best friends during the morning yesterday, and she encouraged me and kept me going through everything.  Trust me, I was thankful.

So, I’m going to see how today goes, and I’m going to enjoy each moment.  Sometimes, a heavy dose of disappointment is necessary, and I’ll take this to heart.

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Well

News came.  And it was what I expected, though that does not mean that it was what I wanted.  On the bright side, I know that I’m just in the rapids of life right now.  My course in the river is hitting some rocks, making some white water.  Eventually, it will all settle down.  I just need to keep afloat for the time being.

When I returned from lunch, another girl in my hall was in the hallway and asked me if I had checked my email yet, as she had just gotten her email about SA.

“Is it in?” I asked, feeling my heart rate begin to climb.

“Yeah,” she replied.  I asked her if she had gotten the position, and she replied with a no because of her GPA.  I felt bad for her; I had kept a spot in my mind dedicated to her getting SA.  So, we both ran into my room to check my email.  On the computer screen was the email, and I pressed refresh.  There, an email sat.

Dear Melissa Stone,

Thank you for…

That was all I needed to know from the three sentence-long email.  I hadn’t made it.  Another friend walked into the room at that time, and the three of us girls talked a little.  I felt myself getting down, but I knew that I’d be okay in a strange kind of way.  It was like I realised that, I’ll still be with these people next year, and that’s also a major plus.  If I had gotten SA, who knows if I would have even still bee in Mo Hall?  I could have been somewhere where I knew no one and hadn’t any friends to rely on.  Now, at least I know that I’ll be with friends.

I immediately went to my door after finding out to write a sentence:

“Dear Katie, whaddup room mate next year?”

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Nerves

When I was six, I remember sitting on the bus next to my then best-friend, Simran, and asking her how we knew what was going on in other people’s minds.  She seemed confused by the question (as any first grader should have been), so I gave her an example.  If you said something true, but your mum told you that you had lied when you had not, how could she prove that you had or had not lied?  If she could not get into your head, what made her claim valid?  I’m sure Simran still did not understand me, so we probably started talking about Spice Girls instead (whaddup, 1997?).  But, even then, I was mystified with the mind and how little we know about it.  It’s why I’d grow so angry when someone said that I had lied when I hadn’t.  One time, I screamed at my mum, “You aren’t in my mind!  You don’t know!”  I was seven.  And it never really occurred to me until recently that children that young shouldn’t be contemplating such strong philosophical and psychological questions.

Sometimes, I think I’m still too young to ponder at the things I do.

– – –

This morning, I woke up before the sun–something I haven’t done in a little while.  As I sat at my desk, reading psychology, I was able to watch the sun rise.  At first, it was a splotch of yellow light on the horizon, breaking the deep darkness that had settled over Kirksville.  Then, stripes of purple and then of pink appeared, with the yellow splotch now a strong, orangey base.  Soon, the entire sky was enveloped in a wash of pink and purple, covering the clouds and glittering off of the eight or so inches of snow.  Beautiful.  It made me happy that I hadn’t slept too much past my snooze alarm.

I had so many weird dreams last night, but I can only access bits and pieces.  Something about a great, glass tower with a mighty telescope on top.  Something about a popular rapper that I made fun of and had no respect for.  Something about a large, green spider that I killed so cautiously with a fly swatter and then buried into the carpet as though it were dirt.  There were so many people, and so much conflict, and I’m still reeling from the impact of what it all means.  Sometimes, my dreams really are tumbles of nothing, and other times they mean cryptic little things about the way I’m feeling.  Something in my mind tells me that this was just a jumble.  A stress jumble.

Last evening, my house was together and sharing a dream dictionary.  Turns out unicorns mean something bad to our Mr Freud.  I think it’s all full of shit.  I don’t buy into a dream interpreter or any other interpreter for that matter who tries to figure me out when not knowing a damned thing about what actually goes on in my mind.  It’s why I like to interpret my own dreams.  It’s why, as much as I love MBTI, I know that it has faults and that everyone is different, even if typed the same.  It’s why I put no store in all of those quizzes that ask “Which Character from [insert show here] Are You?”.  I don’t buy into anything that doesn’t actually know me because, as one of my friends told me, I’m a very cautious person.  Yes.  Yes, I am.

– – –

This past weekend wasn’t the best for me.  I’m still dealing with not knowing the interview results (though I’ll probably know before I can post this blog and will most likely tell you at the end), and I’ve come to realise that I may be depressed.  And not in the sense of the word that I’m just feeling down, but in the actual sense; the sense that means that I’m clinically depressed and should probably be getting some  help for this.  So, I planned out my week and found some free time on Thursday.  Once this slot of free time comes up today, I’m fairly certain that I will march myself over to the university counselling services and sit down with someone.  I don’t really care what happens, but I feel that it’s a big step that I need to take in order to get better.

I ended up looking through my diary to see when I really started getting depressed constantly, and my date landed on 10 December, with trails of unhappiness sinking in at the beginning of November.  I was surprised to see that I was so unhappy in nearly every entry, and it was a little bit frightening to realise that, without that way to keep track of my life, I may not have really realised why I was so upset.  I would have kept blaming it on the nerves of not knowing my SA results, rather than digging to the deeper problem and realising that something was seriously wrong.

So, when I go to UCS today, I’ll tell you how it goes.  I’ll tell you if it helps, and what will be done.  If there’s nothing to say, I won’t say it.  But if there is, expect more on the issue.

– – –

The results for SA were supposed to be email out any time after 23.00 on Wednesday night.  It’s now 7.20 on Thursday morning, and I’m growing more and more excited and nervous.  Last night, as I drifted to sleep, I told myself that it was nothing different from a cast list back in high school.  Stan would promise it to be up on Monday, and you’d end up waiting until Thursday afternoon to see any results.  All the while, your stomach would churn, and you’d feel ridiculously nervous about the entire ordeal.  If you multiplied that reaction by ten, you’d get how I was feeling.  When I think about that email coming through to tell me, well, my chest and stomach and heart tighten until it’s physically painful.  So painful that it causes headaches and puts me to bed, keeping me from studying for a psychology test.  These are serious nerves; I can’t wait until it’s all just over.  Then, I can work on accepting my year to come as it will truly be.

– – –

In Time Updates:

7.35: I’ve probably pressed the refresh button over thirty times since 23.00 last night.  Every five minutes, and I’m checking that email again.  And every five minutes, I’m once again left with no information.

7.42: Still nothing.  I’m reduced to scrounging Facebook and reading psychology texts.

7.51: Time to give up for a while and read even more psych.  Today’s exam is going to kill me.  I’m really sorry if you’re still reading this.

8.03: Again, really sorry if you’re still reading this; nothing has happened.

8.40: And still nothing.  I might as well start studying for my physics lab.

9.00: And still nothing, again.  I might as well just post all of this up and make a second post with the results when they come.  Sorry for making you read this; then again, it was your own doing.

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