I've got to say, the task I've set myself up for is ridiculously daunting. It's a lot of work, every day, for quite a while. I should be able to handle it, though.
I mean, dropping out of school can't be so bad, can it?
Some clarifications: I say "drop out", I mean "withdraw". For those of you in the audience who don't know the latter's definition, it's a fancy term for dropping all your classes a given quarter, usually due to health or other unforeseen reasons. The problem here is that the reasons I have are actually quite foreseen; many years foreseen in fact. But that doesn't make them easier to deal with.
Unfortunately, I don't trust psychologists, or else this whole sequence may not have been necessary. Maybe I would have dealt with this in spring? Maybe the spring before? Or the spring before that? Spring is a time of new beginnings, yes, but the heat of summer has always burned them away. Perhaps exploring my madness as Persephone descends to sit beside Hades is the way to go. That appointment is this Thursday, and I am both excited and terrified. Will I finally solve this problem? Hopefully. Hopefully.
Despite never having had any, I have a huge desire to go on medication. I feel very strongly that this is more than just an attitude problem; that I have some chemicals all jumbled up in my brainpan. Funny, this being the end diagnosis of a fellow who actively never took chemistry. Mind, by diagnosis, I mean process of elimination. Fate deals strange hands sometimes.
I've been like this for years and years. It's exacerbated by stress, yes, but the malaise, the ennui has always been there. I lie in bed, staring at my clock as my classes tick by, willing myself with all my effort to just sit up and go. It doesn't happen, I end up getting out of bed at 3PM, feeling awful both from tiredness (as there was no sleep to greet me in my lack of will, only a long, aching wakefulness) and from what has just occurred. I drag myself to work, direct money for minimal effort being a sufficient drive, or at least sufficient lack of friction to go. I sit there for 4, 6, 8 hours some days in a lie. Lying to my coworkers that I'm fine, putting on a face. I go home, stay up longer as I cannot sleep even if I try, and the cycle begins anew.
Needless to say I'm sick of that. However, it's the sort of problem that exacerbates itself: I have trouble even getting motivated enough to talk to my adviser, or financial aid, or even my parents about it. The first two have not been informed, the latter only just this past Saturday. I've been plotting, or more accurately trying to muster the resolve for this since the end of September. Only now am I taking action.
I hope it to be enough.
512 words : 182500 a year