I may look like I do, but trust me, I don’t. It makes sense, with me hoarding as much work as I can without breaking down. I try to find myself in the work that I do. Obviously, I haven’t, as work keeps piling up and I’m not happy. When what I stop having fun with what I do, it becomes work and I stop trying. I do it for the sake of doing it and in turn, it stops me from growing.
Here I am writing this blogpost at 12:30 in the morning instead of writing papers because I really need to get myself together. This semester was horrible, filled with regrets and complacency. I’ve underestimated myself and I’ve reached my breaking point, having meltdowns far too many times. I barely cut any of my classes last school year. But this semester, I’ve cut mostly because I can or I have things to do that I could’ve finished if only I managed my time better.
It is difficult to pinpoint what exactly made me AWOL this semester but I’m certain most of it is because of my work hoarding. I discovered that I am letting myself defined by work. I guess that’s why last summer led to my eventual spiral to depression, my mind bothered with existential thoughts. Who am I? What am I here for? And what can I do? Without anything to do, I felt useless. I realized I was empty.
When the sophomore year was right around the corner, I was excited. I can finally do something. I started to hoard work: joining six orgs (but only active in five), double majoring in Creative Writing, and volunteering for SOH projects. I didn’t think expect how different sophomore year would be from freshman year. First few months into the semester, the extracurricular work started to pile up soon followed by academics. Needless to say, I was overwhelmed. Before the semester started, I already anticipated the stress but I didn’t expect exactly how inhumanely stressful this semester proved to be.
And it all boiled down to this post. I have more to say, but I feel like I’m going to end up going around in circles. It finally hit me that I don’t need to be the all-around girl. I realized it’s not being magis, I’m just deluding myself (and us Lit majors understand what’s at stake for being Quixotic). I don’t need to do everything and anything I can get my hands on. As Sir Carlo has said, “True art is subtraction, not addition. Pare away everything that is not essentially you – until you are a distillation of your true self.”
At the base of it all, I know I love writing and literature (I cannot just separate the two). It’s what I fall back to no matter what happens. I may not know what I’m doing, or even where I’ll end up in after college. Heck, I’m still trying to find myself. For now, I’ll continue on pursuing my passion, even though the path I’ll end up taking is not what I envision it to be, and I’ll just pick it up from there.