5: hobbled; or, angsty spew

I started doing that thing, you know the one, the reason all of my posts have numbers that correspond with the dates up there at the top, for the month to: a) write every day, anything, anything at all, even if it is a transcription of someone else’s words with a sentence of my own; and b) attempt something easy, succeed in it, and therefore restore my faith in my ability to commit and complete without fucking it up. Because school? Hasn’t been going so well. It’s my last semester, and I know that I just need to suffer through and do the bare minimum, but I overloaded myself terribly. Massive amounts of work + extreme burnout = crisis.

I don’t want to talk at length about the various sinister ways in which my own mind has been crippling my ability to get through this semester because I’m trying to move into a more positive mindframe, one that will allow me to reverse some of the damage I have done to my academic standing and intellectual identity. But I do want to note — publicly and with great remorse and horror — that I have spent the past few weeks metaphorically shooting myself in both of my feet when it comes to school. I should possibly continue therapy again because I’d really love to understand and unravel this tendency I have towards self-sabotage. My friends don’t get it, my teachers are frustrated, my parents are angry, and I am baffled and empty-handed of explanations. There is absolutely no reason for me to be doing so extravagantly awfully at something that, it is generally acknowledged, I am actually pretty good at.

Fear of failure so intense that it has transmogrified into fear of success? Out of control unattainability of the standards I set for myself? The inherent cruelty of spring? Sheer exhaustion and disillusionment stemming from more or less six straight years of undergraduate work? Laziness, craziness, self-loathing, anxiety? Stress and exhaustion? D, all of the above?

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~ by Not Alice on March 5, 2008.

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