I have always sympathized with old men in movies. Well, maybe not always, but for a long time. Overall I really haven't been through that much in my life, sure I was hospitilized, but other than that, so I don't really have a legitimate excuse to feel old, but I have a pretty good illegitimate one. While I haven't been through much in the real world my mind goes in and out of depression, creates great stories and then forgets them, develops crazed theories and brilliantly mad philosophy, and so it feels like I've had a lot of stuff happen. And so there are times like this, when I dwell on all my problems with depression and crap and how long I've been dealing with it (subjectively usually, objectively maybe its not that long, maybe it is, I don't know), I feel old, and I sympathize with all the old men who try to recapture a little of theire lost glory or go for one last chance at the big time. It doesn't matter if they succeed or fail, it's the brilliance of their effort.
So you got to keep on trucking, keep on trying, keep on blazing away even if time after time things get screwed up. Although perhaps its debatable whether I should accept that things are going to be screwed up. I mean chances are its going to happen but on the other hand it is within my power, although it is very difficult, to completely avoid breakdowns, but... Whatever I suppose. The main point is I need to keep trying, probably, perhaps that's a side point to the main point which is that I've lost a sense of focus, let me try to break out from this.
So I might fail a class. The great worry that has filled me with terror for the last 10 years might finally come to pass. As usual things are my fault mitigated by my disease. Perhaps things are more my fault than usual, and perhaps I deserve this F, but maybe I don't really, a C maybe but an F? To make the matter short (well, maybe as short as the matter deserves), my mood swings this semester and my acute social anxiety led me to miss many classes, esp. one course in particular, a seminar in fact, which made matters worse since it took into account participation. Around Spring Break I asked my professor if my grade could recover and she responded positively. So I missed the withdraw deadline and instead stuck with the class. And so she gave me a last chance in the form of a presentation, and then... I had a full out breakdown. In retrospect I should have realized with my mood swings and everything that I probably wouldn't be able to handle the class, but I decided I would give it a shot anyways. Maybe there is a time to say I want to try but I can't do this, or maybe the whole try no matter what thing is for grander stuff than a class. But anyways with the time so late in the semester it might be too late to withdraw or do anything but accept the fail and so...
Since I just got out of the depression I'm on the upswing, and so I can handle this a lot better than normally. But overall I'm comforted by the fact that I've always viewed school as a means to an ends and not an ends to itself. When I remind myself of that, the impact of failure fades a little. And so I can deal with a failing grade, afterall with my overall grade point average it really isn't a big deal to fail a class. And so despite my perhaps fail, I can still say things are going pretty well.
After all I'm still trying.
There we go, things wrapped up pretty well there, so take it to your head, take it to your heart, and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!
5 months ago