Thursday, October 14, 2010

Tube Socks and Legitimate Truths

When I'm at the university, I take my life in chunks. Week-long chunks. This week, evidently, I've been exploring the many different ways that a woman can be absolutely pathetic. It's been fun.

Whether it's been failing exams (and hopefully this won't be repeated tomorrow...), manic depressive behavior, irritability, slouching, eye-rolls, stress on a homework-free week, loud discussions, being completely allergic to bullshit (excuse me), or any other kind of stupid stupids, it's been QUITE a notable week. At least, for the record, I got sushi out of the deal, as well as a cousin day and a high school girls' volleyball game. But this post is about being pathetic, not eating sushi.

How is it that a girl can go almost four months, being set on fire, being finally free, being finally happy...to feeling like a post-anxiety hunk of leftover lunch meat? See, I thought, in my post-depression, that genuinely being okay meant that school would be genuinely okay. I should have taken the hint before I even moved in. Fake dis-enrollment (although it was real enough...), fake firing, fake re-hiring, and a very legitimate failure on a seemingly simple quantum physics exam. Now, I realize, since I've been trying to see things for the way they really are, or rather, for the way that they are invisibly, that this is all probably happening as some sort of test or psychological and spiritual battle. Somebody downstairs is probably pretty upset that I decided not to prostitute myself out to his minions anymore. So, since he knows that he can't have his way with me, he's been slowly chipping away at me using a very subtle pick-ax. How far will she go? How many tears can I squeeze out of this situation, even though she knows that life could be (and has been) so much worse?

It's pathetic.

The thing is, although I've tasted the honey of spiritual freedom, I let him chip a little. Because I realize that I am strong enough not to fall back into the spiral staircase of despair that I used to live on. Here's how I know for sure; here's the big difference: I know that I am okay. I know that I am okay now. Expecting to live in an independent bliss is ridiculous. Not letting yourself have a bad day is silly, because it's usually out of your hands in the first place. I am doing very well. I may be a little pathetic this week, but I'll grow out of it. It's just a season. I have confidence in the fact that on July 6th, 2010, I got better...regardless.

Delicious.

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