November 12, 2010 Mrs TeePot
That’s how long it’s been since I went to uni. Three full weeks. Only one of those was an official week off.
I am failing. I am fighting as hard as I possibly can, but I am still failing.
There is nothing more they can do, there is nothing more I can do, I just have to wait. Wait and see if I can do the work without ever making an appearance. Wait and see if I ever feel strong enough to go to a lecture again. I have to just wait, and hope, and not talk about it because that will result in “but what are you going to do if you’re not at uni?” question, a reminder of how much I fail at life.
I don’t want to drop out: people will be disappointed in me if I do, people will say that I have let the anxiety and depression beat me, people will assume that I am thick. I love the work, I love to sit and read the text books, I love to write essays and ponder over language. Through the work I am finding joy, the joy I only feel when I’m learning, absorbing fascinating information, taking in all that lovely knowledge. I love it.
But it’s so god-dammed hard. Not the work, but everything else related to uni: the people, the places, the lectures, the tutorials. It’s so god-damned hard. And it’s exhausting.
Imagine there is a brick wall in front of you. To get anywhere at all you have to push that wall the whole way there, push it around with you and push it all the way home. It’s a pretty solid wall, it doesn’t want to move, but you heave and heave and it does shift, but damn does it take a lot of effort. Everyday I get to uni I have shifted that wall (hell, sometimes I have to shift it just to get out of bed) and when I eventually get back I am so exhausted, in every possible sense, that I can’t do anything else. I mean truly shattered. And then the next day I’m expected to shift the whole damned thing again, muscles aching, still tired from yesterday’s exertions, and every day it gets harder.
Yes, that’s right. Not easier as many people would have you believe, but harder. When you’re that defeated, that tired, that drained, there is nothing left for you to hold on to your sanity with. It’s then that all those problems you were dealing with attack again. Suddenly you’re not just facing that one brick wall any more, but an army of them, lined up right behind one another, working together against you.
So here I am, faced with a line of brick walls so long it probably reaches to Manchester (that’s where I’m at uni by the way)! I have no clue what to do, where to start, how to get there. Most people seem to expect me to give up and jack it in, those that don’t think that I should, and then there’s me. I love the work. I love it so much. I’d forgotten just how I adored English Language until I started, I just wish there wasn’t so much more to uni than the academics.
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