I hate that every Monday I dread going to Developmental Psychology because it puts me in a shitty mood the rest of the day. All I can think about in that fucking class is how much I hate it and don't want to be there. Oh, and how I am an utter failure in that class. I have never struggled like this in a class before. I have never had to work for a fucking C, not even an A, but a C. What the hell happened to me? Where did that good student go? I used to breeze through papers and tests and I was fine. But in this class, I fail.
The fact that I am struggling in this class makes me doubt my wanting to go to grad school. I mean if I can't make it as a college senior what hope do I in grad school. If I was going for studio art, no big deal, I thrive in that, but this, writing papers and talking in classes, not my strong suits. But I want this life. I want to be an art therapist. I want to show people how to save themselves with art. I want art to save someone the way that it did me. It saved me every minute of my life in high school and college. And the thought of not having those studio classes everyday scares the shit out of me.
I made a promise to myself last week that I would be a good student again. That I would not skip anymore classes, and what did I do today? Skipped two classes. My developmental teacher sent an email saying that we were going to watch a movie and that she would not be there. So what the hell makes her think that I am going to be there? I can watch the movie at home and take notes on it for the test. And then I got to sleep late. Then 4 o'clock rolled around and Jeremy was over, so I did not go. I am not worried about missing the second class, I have an A+ in that class. But it is the fact that I missed developmental...... again.
All of the above ranting comes down to this one thing. I am losing myself. I am losing my free spirit to the hell of corporate America every weekend and to writing logical precise papers every week. I lost my spark somewhere. I lost the fire. I lost my art. I spend maybe 8 hours a week in studio. That is not enough. I was spending every waking second doing or thinking about my art, and now my mind rests on papers about childhood memory. I am losing myself to the motions.
But I am going to get it back. I am going to be the person that loves school. I am going to ace my next developmental exam and paper. I am going to spend more time in the studio. I am going to find my spark again. I know that it is hidden in my art. I know that it is there waiting for me to find it again. And I know that I will, because if I don't I will lose the point to this life.
I struggled to find words of encouragement. Wishing I knew you better now to speak with you profoundly about life and the certainty of your path which will blah,etc. It seems though that your last two posts have provided a profound and poetic symmetry that might cheer you up. The former post, an error-ridden list of current dissapointments in print, the medium of the said aggravating class. Below it, the latter post. A beautiful accumulation of thought and work put into physical art that you yourself produced, in turn, proving you could accomplish, even through untold difficulties, your expression. It will be hard, but you will be fine (italics on the 'it' and 'you').
ReplyDeleteI know it's hard. Trust me. I know what it's like to lose a part of yourself and...most days, the entirety of yourself to something. But the fact that you still want to do it is a good sign. And it may be the only sign, but it's there. And it has to be enough.
ReplyDeleteI love you and believe in you. We can do this.