Beginning is one of the hardest things to do. Whether it is writing a short story, trying to go to the gym, or otherwise. I think that because it is so new and fresh there are conflicting feelings, both of excitement and disappointment. Excitement for the potential of what it could be. Disappointment because of where you are in terms of progress. You want to be at the end goal, an established writer or a conditioned athlete, but it is rather difficult when you’ve only just begun.
I find myself often times in a Catch-22. I won’t want to spend my time doing a certain activity because I’m not at the skill level I would like, but also knowing that if I don’t put in the time, effort and make it a consistent habit I won’t get any better. I need to remind myself that there is no shortcut, you have to go through the not-so-good-but-not-too-shitty writing phase to get better, start running 1 then 2 miles to get to that marathon.
I’m also interested in a lot of different subjects and could really learn about anything and find something interesting. That’s a blessing and a curse. I become a “Jack of all trades, Master of none”. Which can be difficult in a world that demands specificity and narrow choice. It reminds me of a Sylvia Plath quote from the Bell Jar, about the possibilities of life.
“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.” — Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
The more time you spend not making a decision, the less opportunities you have to choose from. Slowly, you begin to lose your future selves as the small window of action become a missed opporunity. And that’s exactly where I feel I’m at. I don’t have any firm grasp on a future I find myself in. I’m still unsure. I’m still trying to figure out whether which passions I want to pursue. I want to continue my education, but sometimes I feel as if I lack the knowledge. I don’t know where I’m internalizing this imposter syndrome from.
I’m trying to get over this. My academic experience speaks more of my capabilities than what I’m saying. But the thing is that I’m completely aware of that. I’m aware that I have had a very rich and fulfilling college experience. I was involved where I feel it mattered, I did what I felt was important, got a lot of very important things done on campus.
I’ve been in places and have gotten to do things that very few college students get to experience. I still maintain this skewed version of my personal worth. And it isn’t that I don’t love myself. I feel that I’m more concerned with how I’m being perceived. I’m afraid that I will be seen as incapable. Being vulnerable is also a very strange and overwhelming experience I avoid.
Sidenote: I’ve noticed that most of the time I have sentences that don’t necessarily flow, and the reason that is, is because my thoughts kind of skip forward and there is a lack of information between any two sentences. Another thing to work on. I’m also struggling with conciseness. Being aware is the first step towards addressing the issue.
I need to focus on small goals and then slowly move up toward larger and more challenging, yet realistic goals.
I know what to do, I’m just not trying to do that right now.
I’m also trying to work on my memory, I’m becoming forgetful. Not sure if this is a result of the racial battle fatigue I’ve experienced or it is just my general aloofness heightened.
I’m rationalizing a lot of what’s going on by saying that I’m probably uninterested in the topic and therefore forget it, but it’s gotten to the point where I forgot very important information…I don’t even want to say that I’ve forgotten, but it is inaccessable. It’s like my memory, knowledge bank has a very thin veil that it slowly being drawn back. And I need it to be fully uncovered so I can normally function. I still don't fully feel myself, or rather I feel different from how I usually am.
I spoke with Dr. Moreno from CAPS the other day and she kind of used the phrasing “coming back into yourself” and I feel that it is pretty accurate.
I’m still trying to come out of this daze. It’s probably going to be a while, I’ve been feeling this way for several months now.
It manifest itself very strangely, all of my stress has had a very negative affect on my brain patterns. Not sure if it also heightened my insecurities too.
Effects: Loss of memory, Depression, Anxiety, Paranoia, Hopelessness, etc.
A lot of these things are very difficult to deal with, I also can’t grapple with all of these issues on my own and need emotional support but I’m very hesitant on receiving any help because I feel like I’m being a burden on somebody. Even from my closest friends.
This feels like complaining. It feels like I’m not entitled to these feelings.
Don’t even get me started on how I feel on my identity.
Sidenote:…ID-entity? Is that the etymological reasoning? Identity was coined or at least influence by Freudian thought.
I’ll just leave that there….okay. Goodbye.