My Semicolon

The Time I Could Have Stopped, But Kept Going Anyways — Part 1

Before I considered burning down a counseling center, I was having a bit of a tough time in college.

Classes weren’t bad. The only one I disliked was this 3-hour-long World History: Before 1650 class.

First of all, 3-hours is just too long.

Second, Before 1650 is most of history.

Third, the teacher was this monotonic-lady whose lectures kept putting me to sleep. I would shoot up a 5 hour energy and still knock-out before the first 60 minutes was done.

As long as our historians are this socially-inept, of course history is doomed to repeat itself.

At the end of the semester, we had to fill out this class-evaluation card. Under teacher recommendations I wrote, “Get laid.

Looking back, yeah, too much.

But like I said, I was having a tough time.

I was dealing with this level of depression I’d never faced.

Mind you, this was not all from nowhere:

Moving to New Orleans, transitioning to college, not being by any friends or family, being recently broken-up with — had all formed this very hungry caterpillar that started eating at my mental health.

(It’s important to note that late-teens are at a peak age for many mental health issues to emerge.)

So, like a beautiful-butterfly, my depression cracked out of it’s cocoon and unfolded it’s sad-ass-wings to the world.

I would do anything to go back to this time in my life.

I want to take my past-self out for a hot meal.

Give him a hug.

Listen to him.

Let my him know it’s going to be alright.

And then I’d strongly recommend — that he get laid.