|No straight lines here.|
Hello readers, I know it is not Tuesday.
It's barely still Wednesday.
When I started this website (even before I started it), I made it a personal goal that I would do a weekly blog post every Tuesday. I could do extra posts other days, but every Tuesday, I expected myself to make a post. This was for many reasons. First, I love writing in my book and short stories, but I often suffer from writer's block. I personally believe it's not a valid excuse not to write; unfortunately, whatever I write (story wise) during my writer's block, it turns out rather awful. By holding myself accountable for weekly posts, I felt like I could change my subconscious unwillingness to write. Second, I wanted to be reliable for readers. I wanted friends, family, endometriosis sufferers/supporters--anyone who read my blog--to trust my ability to consistently write. It seemed the professional thing to do. Third, I didn't want to forget my blog or let bad-moods keep me away from it. A quota would stop that from happening.
And now, the third week into my new domain location, I blew it. No post on Tuesday. I didn't forget and I wasn't depressed--not exactly, in general I was pretty happy. I had ideas to write but I suffered from block. Not the same kind I get for stories. I felt unable to write anything worth reading. I was suffering a lot of personal feelings of defeat because I officially withdrew from college this week. I actually knew I would be unable to return since early December, but I had not officially withdrawn from classes until one week after the semester started. I could not bring myself to do it earlier. In the back of my head I kept thinking I would some how miraculously recover and be able to charge into my studies. In the back of my head, I believed that if I was focused enough, I could somehow do it.
I was supposed to graduate over a year and a half ago. I had a 3.98 at a very difficult university, was a professor favorite, had a great resume and great references. I've had teachers sincerely tell me that I could do anything I wanted to because I was a star. And then I got sick. I went from super student to sick student. Instead of complimenting me for my school performance, my professors were always asking me if I was getting better (healthier). My grades dropped. I took a semester off. I dropped out of a semester. I dropped out of college. And I felt like a failure.
Everyone tells me that I just need to be patient, that when I get better I'll be able to finish. But I never know if I'll get better or just learn how to better manage my pain and fatigue. I'm not sure if I'll ever return to the level of achievement I was at. And it's depressing. I can often shirk off that feeling of depression/failure, but there are some moments when it really 'shines' through. And hitting that 'drop all classes button' the other night was one of those moments.
I might be carrying on now, blabbering, etc.. I'll try not to circle down the drain of depression on my blog (which is intended to inspire, believe it or not). The point is, every time I sat down to write, I just kept thinking to myself, "How can I write and tell others that this is all okay, when it's not?". And tonight, I realized that I didn't have to.
Part of making progress, inspiring yourself, growing stronger, is encountering bumps in your path and getting past them/learning from them. It's not all, "Look how great life is, despite my struggles!" Sometimes those struggles really hit you hard and can ruin your spirit for a time.
But there is something beautiful in this. I've realized that it was never my dream to finish college in four years, then wait one year, then go to grad school for five, etc. etc.. That might have been my plan of action, but it was never my dream. I've wanted to do my best in school, learn as much as I can, and have a career that continues my academic education while I get to help others. Those were my dreams. Endometriosis really screwed up my life plan. That's a fact. But it's not stopping my ambitions and has not ruined my life. It's forced me to take an alternate route. And that's okay. I'll make it work and I'll be better for it.
So I'm sorry I missed my dead line. I'm sorry to myself and anyone else who's reading this. But I'm very glad I took the extra time to process what I was thinking. I could have put a half-hearted, weak entry on something I did not care about that day. But I don't ever want to be fake when I write. I haven't been yet and I don't plan on it. I admit I am still down about dropping out. That's not something I ever saw myself doing. But I could have never predicted anything else that's happened in my life, so I really just need to stop trying to plan it all out. I'll have dreams, ambitions, goals, and do things worth while. But I'll go about it my own way.