You realized your first semester of college that you liked working out – go you! That’s great. Then life started getting in the way, and you weren’t able to go since before finals of the same semester. Now it’s the beginning of the second semester, and you have eighteen credit hours, an honor society, and your own mental health to look after. Not to mention some semblance of a social life, which normally is reduced to pizza and a movie with your best friend on a Friday night (because Saturdays and Sundays are for homework).
You’ve been down on yourself recently, and that’s okay. You’ve been eating everything that you can get your hands on (which varies from day to day), and just this evening your dad asked you if you’ve been to the Rec. recently. You said no, but that you’ve been meaning to. However, the thought has only crossed your mind a handful of time since classes started. The truth is that you just haven’t had the time to think about it.
But tonight is different. You realized that you missed it, and you asked yourself why. Some part of yourself says to lose weight (because you still hate your body, even though you’ve made progress on being nicer to it), but the biggest part says that it’s much bigger than that. It’s more important than that. You like going to the gym because it makes you stronger. It makes you feel better, mentally and physically. It makes you tired. It makes you feel like your body is owned by you instead of drowning you.
What is there to do?
Be patient with yourself. Make time for the gym, when you can, and try not to stress about it when you can’t. Eat when you have time because God knows you don’t have a lot of time these days, and some days you might overdo it – indulge some times! But don’t take that feeling of pride for your body go away. Own it. Whether you reach that goal weight by the end of the semester or not: Own it.
With tears in my eyes, I write this, simply because I’m having one of those days. 2016 was not an easy year for me from the start; it was one change after another, after another, and I realize I’ve started to blame myself for being human, and that has created an internal conflict that has slowly been devouring me since the beginning of the year.
I was in the shower a little while ago when I realized what it is that I need: To forgive myself. I’ve always been a forgiver, never one to hold a grudge. There have been points in my life where my parents thought that I was too forgiving and trusting (and, well, maybe I was with some people). However, I don’t think I have that same philosophy with myself. I’ve always held myself to higher standards than anyone else has held me to, and I think that is one major reason why I suffer from depression and anxiety; I am a perfectionist with myself.
I’m not saying that this is going to be easy. I’m not saying that this is an easy fix. Heck, I’m not even saying that I know how to do it. What I am saying is that I need to let myself off the hook about some things, especially the ones that I had no chance of controlling. Whether people blame me for things or not, there are just some parts of the universe that I can’t change, at least, not now.
I am saying that I need this forgiveness, and I shouldn’t have to earn it. I deserve understanding from myself and to know that God has a much bigger plan than any of those that I could come up with.
I am saying that if God can forgive me every day for every stupid thing I do, I should be able to forgive myself.
Personally, I believe that I’ve grown quite a bit in my first few months of college. I’m living on my own, making friends, and not having to ask permission to go somewhere. It’s the life!
(That might be a bit of an overstatement. I’m still myself – I stress myself to the max most days, and honestly, when I’m not in class, 60% of the time I’m in my dorm room alone or at the gym.)
Either way, I’ve recently started thinking about summer vacation. After days of it being on my mind, maybe the only way to make sense of it is to write about it. So here I am! Trying that!
Since I’ve moved out, I’ve really started appreciating my home town. As much as I hated it when I was living there, when I was growing up, I really see how much it has affected me as a person, and I’m grateful for that. It taught me lessons that I’ve used everyday on campus. With that being said, I’m not sure that I want to go back to that for three whole months. I’ve escaped, and I don’t want to go back to that, to start depending on others again. Sadly, I don’t see a way around it.
I love my parents – seeing them, visiting, them visiting me – but I’ve gotten so used to being on my own that moving back in even just for the summer would be… weird.
What’s my answer? Summer classes? A job and an apartment? Going home and getting a job there?
I don’t know yet, but I’m sure that I’ll eventually find it.
You’ve grown up being left behind. Everyone has because everyone leaves. Everyone leaves in one way or another, and they stay in small ways because of the marks that they make in your life.
They die, but they’ve left memories.
They break your heart, but they don’t take your feelings with them when they go.
They tell you they love you, and the words travel on the wind.
Then one day you realize: that’s you. You’ll be leaving soon and staying in some way, and it breaks your heart. You know how that feels, but to be the one to finally do it seems exciting. You mourn and rejoice at the same time. You realize it’s easier than you ever would have thought.
Clearly, I don’t have a set pattern for what I post here. I just kind of post what’s on my mind. Whether it’s my grandfather or a boy that’s not mine, it’s all how I’m feeling. I use writing to express myself, mostly because I’m not a big talker, but also because it’s the only way that I know how. It’s how I taught myself to cope with life and everything that it throws at me.
With that being said, I’m using this blog as a kind of record. How I feel at certain times, who has my heart, how many times it has been broken. It’s everything, yet when someone asks me what I’m doing, I’ll say nothing.
Last week I picked up my cap and gown for my high school graduation. All year I’ve known that this was coming, but I swear, this year has gone by so quickly. I remember it being October and teaching the new students in Journalism how to work the program. I remember learning my first chapter of physics and realizing that I had no idea what was going on (I still don’t most of the time, but I love it). I remember the first day of school, how the nerves were back, but not because I was scared, because I knew it would be the last first day of high school.
And now I have my cap and gown.
This is real.
This is happening.
I’m going to graduate and move away. The day is fast approaching.
And I’ve got to be ready.
The thing is… I know how this is going to end. I’m going to be heartbroken again; I’m going to check my phone every five minutes to find nothing from you there. We’re going to go months without talking, during which time I will think about everything that I would have done differently – everything that I would have said if I had known.
I’ll think about all of the things that I found out after; I’ll find out the things that you should have told me yourself. And people tell me that I should hate you, that I shouldn’t care whether you talk to me or not… But I do.
I care, and I don’t stop caring.
Then, just like this time, it’ll start again, and I’ll be happy. I’ll think that maybe this time will be different… Will it?
There are a lot of things in this life that I know. First and foremost I know that there is a God, and He is on my side. I know how to differentiate between sine and cosine; I can recite poems of Emily Dickinson from memory; I can tell you hundreds of facts from World War 2. I can tell you my honest opinion without bias.
But there are some things that I just don’t know. Where did we go wrong? What happened to making things work? Me writing you? You say you’re busy, and that’s fine, but did you really go from talking to me everyday to not having time to type me a few messages?
I think you gave up. You stopped wanting it because it was to big of a challenge; you were scared, and I was, too, because who knows what the future will bring?
I wish I could fix it- but here’s another thing I know: I can’t fix anything that involves another person that doesn’t want it to be fixed.
So, maybe… I do have life figured out. Or at least that part.
In all actuality, I don’t blame you. I never have, never will. Like I said earlier, the future? That’s scary. Graduating is scary. Going to college or the Army is scary. I can’t blame you for how you’re handling it.
But for a few weeks, I thought we could do it. Just so you know.
Explain your thoughts on if the events in the novel (Tralfamadorians and time travel, specifically) are real.
While I don’t believe in time travel personally, I do believe in the theory of Quantum Mechanics, something that I related to this novel the whole time I was reading it. The theory states that (much like the Tralfamadorian view) time doesn’t exist. There are hundreds of thousands of dimensions in the universe that humans can’t see; these dimensions hold different time periods, and we can be triggered into them sometimes. Dreaming is often seen as this type of phenomenon in the scientific field.
With that being said, I absolutely think that everything in this novel could be real. Obviously, it was very real for Vonnegut and Billy Pilgrim, who was not at all (in my opinion) crazy.