And by a push, I mean a gentle push. A nudge. Not a shove. <\/p>\n
For the last 2 years (yes, now that it’s March 2014), I have been caught in a swirling black cloud. Some of it is my own making. I chose to contract or freelance (depending on who I am speaking with). I chose to give my life more free time to imagine and ponder. I chose to keep most of my lifestyle the same. I chose to maintain my sanity. And yet, what to make out of all of this?<\/p>\n
Is there something that I am hope to get out of this? And maybe that’s the wrong question to ask, because it’s about the journey rather than the destination.<\/p>\n
Every school year, I often began with the greatest hope. In regards to my social life. I often would think: this is the year that I make friends, this is the year that I can finally rise above outcast, this is the year that I will be “normal”. This time is the new time. I always had that hopeful attitude, even if the previous experiences suggest otherwise.<\/p>\n
I would sign up for new clubs. I would apply to be part of the school newspaper and the yearbook. Then a few months in, my hopes were dashed. I was rejected. But then I had the summer to sulk and let my disappointment sink into something else out of school.<\/p>\n
Then I would begin again. Friends and family find it charming that my optimism allows me to momentarily forget past experiences. But each time, I hope. I hope for the grand new future.<\/p>\n
This habit changed the moment I started college where I became a realist. And yet. I miss that side of me, when I would be dropped off at school and think, “This is the day<\/i>. This is the day that everything changes.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
And by a push, I mean a gentle push. A nudge. Not a shove. For the last 2 years (yes, now that it’s March 2014), I have been caught in a swirling black cloud. Some of it is my own … Continue reading