When I read the title of my own post, I remember one of my favorite TV shows, Blue’s Clues, from my childhood past, almost instantly.
Ever since I’ve started college, I haven’t had a single day of pure happiness. I don’t expect it; college isn’t about smiling and giggling. It’s about learning and studying, and learning again — about yourself, your surrounding world, the people around you, the textbooks you’ve rented/bought, and the worth of that loan you just took out in order to attend the next four years of your life. It’s about figuring out the true value of this amazing — and costly — investment we call “education.”
I never expected college to be a beautiful ride on a carousel. I expected it to be the same feeling that I get whenever I moved up a grade; moving from middle school to high school was nowhere near as tough as it was when I moved from high school to higher secondary education at an undergraduate institution. I understand: I’m moving higher through the ranks, higher up the ladder of sacrifice and time and value and edification, so everything is, naturally, supposed to be harder in order to achieve the said stage of education.
“The carousel never stops turning.” — Dr. Ellis Grey from Grey’s Anatomy
I never thought it would be like that never-ending carousel. I also get this: I’m a student, so I am a lifelong learner of all things in life. Learning never stops. Skills never stop forming and honing themselves. Characters never stop polishing themselves. Lives never stop perfecting themselves. We should never stop educating ourselves. It’s all well and good.
But how do you fix the blues? How do you stop that impending, crushing feeling inside your mind and heart that signals that all is lost; it’s doomed. It’s doomed.
Those grades aren’t high enough. They may look like A’s now, but they’ll be D’s — yup, those same D’s that your Mom uses to call you “daughter” with — that will make you end up dropping out.
How do you stop the cyclical, all-embracing flower of negativity from enveloping you, from the inside-out? How do you end the trail of rhetorical questions quizzing through your mind when your next two Finals are within the next eight hours — back to back?
It’s all normal. Look at everyone else. Assess their lives, their privileges (or the lack thereof), their housing situations, their smiles, their laughs (or the lack thereof), their tears, their stresses, their families, their finances, their resources, their histories, their grades, their academic capabilities, their course loads, their majors, and see how happy they are. They have been through worse in the past, and are going through MUCH WORSE in the present, in The Spectacular Now (so much for quoting movie titles). But, they will go through much better in the future — unlike you.
It’s a whirlwind of sadness, a galvanizing void of melancholia — one that encases you in its entire being. It pushes you down, and it reminds you that, even though stars need darkness in order to shine:
- You are not a star
- You do not shine
- You CANNOT shine
- You will never be able to reverse 1–3 and
- You will always be surrounded by darkness
To this, I hear, “C’est la vie.” (Or something along the lines of such)
Such is life. Yes, it is unfair. But this much? College is supposed to be about taking risks and being happy about taking them, and being okay with the consequences of such choices. But for those who fail to take such risks, and simply take on the involuntary challenges that come inherently as part of studying in a world-class institution, their lives should not feel like trapped packages of blackness. They should not feel like there are some vicious black clouds hanging 24/7 over their distressed heads.
The black clouds should live with me during midterms, and finals, and essay submission periods, and the like. But they have no right to seek shelter when I am walking back to my apartment, coming back from the lecture halls, or waiting in line for my Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino or my 12 ‘’ Subway sandwich. No. Way.
I miss her. Mama. I miss her so much, it hurts. It doesn’t matter that I’m studying at the “№1 public university in the nation”. It adds prestige, value, worth, respect, honor, and so much jazz, but it never adds what I need: Happiness. Joy. Contentment. Satisfaction.
It’s not the typical case of “Going here is was your dream, Mom. Not mine” because that’s just not true. It was always my dream.
It was my sole choice. My decision. My thought, ambition, and dream.
Until I actually realized it finally became true. Then, the ambition disappeared, the joy and prosperity of the choice vanished into thin air, and a mysterious aura of constant consternation, stress, and tension replaced all of the aforementioned positivity.
Most overwhelmingly, I missed home. This was normal and I was well aware of all that is expected to come with college. But, to be homesick one whole year after college has started? Why is that even possible? I don’t care about the “How?” part; I never have.
I only care about the “Why?” part, so I can fix it, and move on with it. Earning my degree, successfully, and being as marketable as I can, is one of my most important duties, both as a daughter and as me.
So far, I still haven’t figured out how to let go of the “black cloud.” Sure, I know how to run away from it; I just move out as soon as Finals are over and I have nothing to do with that place, that environment, that location — that milieu — anymore. Then, I snap back out of whatever I was into, and I’m me again.
Running away from your problems is something I’d never recommend to anyone. But, it’s worked for me. I hope it does, until it’s no longer a problem anymore.
