WP4: Escaping the Room That is This Semester & Figuring Out My Own Brain
September 19, 2018 was the last time I went to an escape room. I went with a couple of friends on a whim, dressed in an outfit I no longer own. Looking back on it, I remember having fun and being the only one who remembered that escape rooms often make you use mathematics; I felt like the queen of escaping. But what I don’t always remember is that 16 year old me felt claustrophobic and desperate to quit in exchange for water and a bathroom, all while the adrenaline pumped through my veins to try and get out in time. I don’t usually feel that kind of physical and mental stress, but this semester felt like I was back in an escape room, clawing at the walls for freedom while simultaneously hiding my desperation so as to not alert anyone. I’m actually surprised I was able to make it through the semester with the grades that I did; for every A I received, my mental state would be totally deteriorated. But there was one thing that really did help me break free from my mental escape room, and I may or may not have this class to thank for a good part of it. The demand for me to continuously write about myself this semester forced me to reflect on parts of my life that I previously ignored, leading to an internal epiphany with every project.
Before this class, there was no room for me in my own writing. Public school brainwashed me into thinking that if I wanted to write anything informative or argumentative, I needed to be left out of it. Research and reformatted ideas were supposed to take control of every paper; the only thing I could do is swing my thesis statement one way or another. Pathos was completely off the table. I suppose I can blame this on the standards for “college readiness” and the other million problems about the public education system, but now I am able to see that this is not necessarily the case. Many of the guidelines I was taught about writing are still necessary, like citing your sources or understanding your audience (or lack thereof), but the rules are a lot more flexible than I thought. I discovered that the writings I connect with the most are ones that are in conversation with the reader, not simply preaching to them. This allowed me to connect more with myself, since the pressure of needing to traditionally write was stripped away.
One project that really changed the way I see myself was with my WP3, “The Psychoanalysis of Relationships: Learning How To Be A Person With Friends Again,” which came at a very strange time. I thought that since my midterms were finally done, I would have more time to be myself, but boy was I wrong. My elderly grandfather was in really bad shape, and I was going through some… ruptures with those who I was closest to. I was making a film by myself every week for class as well as dealing with racist incidents from faculty that was taking up a lot of my emotional energy (thanks USC). The only good thing in my life at the time was my half-sister visiting from Maine, but because so much of my time was usurped by traumatic & troublesome events, I felt I disappointed her because I could not properly enjoy her time here in Jersey. I was jumping from one situation to another with no breaks in between… except for when I had to write.
When I sat down to work on WP3, I learned that I can’t focus properly in a cluttered area when my mind was already cluttered. Knowing this, I tried to make the space around me as nice and stress-free as possible; candles, low lighting in my pink office, sweet-smelling facial masks, and a Starbucks drink were often my assistants in relaxation. Once I was able to release some of that physical tension by working in a calm environment, I felt I could breathe again and it allowed me to think. It allowed me to process. What was also helpful with that project was that it gave me a place to put my processed feelings into, which was severely needed. I would often put my feelings into my art, but I didn’t have time to really be artistic, so I used WP3 as an opportunity to not only get an assignment done, but to write an essay that was worthwhile and fulfilling outside of the class. It felt more like a cultivated diary entry rather than an essay. I think this shows in the writing, as I was able to be vulnerable and wasn’t afraid to express certain thoughts.
But still, I surprised myself. I never put that much Me into writing before. Sure, I used it kind of like a diary, but even my diary entries don’t really go that deep; it’s mostly “guess what X person did in class today” or whatever thoughts are on my mind that I must need to get out. I never reflected on myself through analysis, which is what WP3 required us to do. For instance, I mention in my paper that I was diagnosed with GAD, or Generalized Anxiety Disorder, but until the paper called for it, I hadn’t really looked it up (Diaz). When I was first diagnosed, I didn’t pay too much attention to the label and instead just wanted to focus on getting myself better. It sounded legit and my mother, who is a therapist, agreed that that was likely the correct diagnosis for me, so there wasn’t a need to question it or do further research. Once I did look it up, things made so much sense. It’s kind of stupid that I didn’t look it up earlier, I know, but when I went through each of my sources for that paper in particular, there were moments were I just sat back in my chair saying “ohhh, so that’s where that comes from!” I knew that a lot of my anxiety came from worrying about everything all the time, which is what I worked on in therapy, but I never knew that things like paranoia about others were a part of that diagnosis. That project literally made me understand a part of myself that I didn’t even think I needed to understand because I thought I knew everything.
Apparently, no one ever knows everything! Especially about themselves! How weird is that!
Now that the longest semester of everyone’s life is wrapping up, I finally feel more of that elated freedom that breaking out of an escape room gives me. I can breathe! I can get a drink of water and go to the bathroom again! My shoulders don’t need to be so tense all the time! And though it was incredibly difficult to get through and I hated my life a good portion of the time, I am really, really glad that through writing, I was able to connect with myself more than I otherwise would have. Through a keyboard and a page on a screen, I feel like I’ve unlocked the secret key to the universe.
Works Cited:
Diaz, Gabriella. The Psychoanalysis of Relationships: Learning How To Be A Person With Friends Again, WP3, Google Drive.
