:Speaking Honestly
Speaking honestly, this semester has been the most draining one throughout my undergrad college career thus far. And I’m, for lack of a better word, struggling. Mentally, emotionally, lowkey physically lol. I’ve had no motivation to do…anything. That’s pertaining to picking up the phone, going to class, doing homework outside of class (and don’t get me wrong, I do all of these things, but I think that’s just my toxic belief that life must go on, even when you can’t). Which, in some regards, isn’t as detrimental or negative as I’m making it out to be.
But in this time period of seemingly rapid change (despite the fact I’ve spent most of it indoors and alone) has weighed like a burden upon my shoulders. I tell myself, you cannot afford to pause, to take a break, to breathe, and as soon as you give yourself a false sense of stability, everything will find a way to catch back up to you. I mean, you’ve been running this long, why stop now?
And as I’m typing all of this, I realize how steeped in “remaining productive”, presenting myself as being “put together and mentally sane”, and so on and so forth has built up to this moment. It feels like I am constantly on the edge of a mental breakdown, that I just keep pushing off.
School…reacclimating to being in school in the middle of a pandemic…has been difficult to say the least. Some of my friends did not come back this school year and are spread across the US. The current seniors (who have graduated by the time this is posted) I’ve had the pleasure of meeting and befriending are well into finishing their last year of undergrad. And it’s scary to think that soon they’ll be entering into the real world, and I’ll still be here. Without having been able to fully say goodbye. And then other friends I have are in the same city as me, but still feel far away.
Masks, mandates, and memories unmade.
I am also perpetually tired (I do not get enough sleep, even if I sleep for hours and spend my days lying with a remote between my clasped fingers). I tell myself, I’ll sleep when the semester is over. I lie, saying I’ll get that sleep back. But the truth is, I’ll never get it back. I can’t. It’s quite impossible to turn back the hands of time, after you spent so many hours awake and daydreaming. nYoutube has become my source of refuge. I binge video after video of humor, romance, pitiful smiles exchanged and shared.
I cry only when it’s for another person. I’ve forgotten how to cry for myself. I tell myself, you’ll cry when you’re ready. But I’ve been ready for a long time, and yet the tears refuse to fall. They’re stubborn. I dare say strong, I hate the word strong. She keeps me complacent. Strong says, “you got this. You’re alone, but you never needed anyone else anyway”. She says, “get up when you fall and wipe the dust off”. She doesn’t embrace me in her arms, she says “sleep is for the weak”. She claims that time is fleeting. That may be the only thing I can agree on her with.
Time waits for no one. nAnd on that note, I’ll take my leave here. Because if I continue forward any longer, I risk shortening that time. So, for now, I’ll pause. I’ll take a step back. I’ll suck in a deep breath. And I’ll wait, wait for the tears to creep down my face. Wait for the silence to not be so deafening. Wait for sleep to carry me on weightless clouds. Wait…and let the tears fall.
