Hey guys. I know, I know, it’s been a while. In case you missed it, I’m taking a little break from my blog to really focus on my articles for the Tab. Anyways, here I am.
Most of the time, words come to me easily. I’ve been writing my feelings since I was about eight. I use my words to process my thoughts and work through things and let go of any baggage. Writing is a part of me, because no matter how tongue-tied I feel I can write it out and it all makes sense and I don’t feel like I’m tripping over my words or grammatically incorrect or even coming off in a manner that I don’t intend to.
But words have not come easily recently.
Other UNC students had warned me that this year was aptly named the “sophomore slump,” and no matter how crazy you think it sounds, it is very, very real. This is the year where everyone is too busy and it makes you feel awful. I didn’t believe it. I thought that this year would be a continuation of the happy-go-lucky attitude I had last year.
Believe me. That’s not what happened.
I haven’t been feeling like myself since August, maybe longer. Why? I had no idea. I still don’t really have a clear idea as to why it’s happening. But it is.
People always say that your grades don’t define you. But they do. They are the difference between an acceptance letter and an “Our Condolences” letter, a scholarship, a leadership position. And no matter how stellar I did in all of my liberal arts classes last year, my less-than-stellar math grades have made that difference for me. Is it my own fault? Partly. It also was because – SURPRISE! – math isn’t for me. Shocker, I know.
There’s also the whole “I can’t focus to save my life” thing. I try. God, I really do try to do work. And then I can’t. I can’t sit still. I can’t get started. I can’t stay focused. It sucks and it makes me feel lazy but it happens and then I tell myself I have to pull it together and then it happens again and again and again and no matter how hard I try to buckle down I just CAN’T.
In short, I haven’t been fine.
Stress is my ugly frenemy who likes to try to strangle me to death almost every week. He plays off that whole “she can’t focus for shit” thing and gives me anxiety about every deadline until I just shut down. He sucks. I like him sometimes but he’s pretty overwhelming a lot of the time.
ANYWAYS – this whole thing is sort of leading up to fall break. Imagine me, a hot mess and a half most days, trying to master school and extracurriculars and a job and making writing a main focus in my life and not to mention my sneaky depression that tells me everyone thinks I’m obnoxious and not worth their time. It didn’t go well.
Through all of this, I’ve been craving home. Not just my family. I missed those mountains that seem so far away but that I can nestle between with a short 30 minute drive up the parkway. I’ve missed the feeling of familiar roadways and the leather seats in my Bug that tend to get too hot. I missed the feeling of a guitar in my hands. I missed Cookouts with outdoor seating and the Knob and my antiques stores and especially my cat.
I didn’t expect to get homesick like this. But here I am – missing home, missing a simpler life that was actually incredibly complicated for me.
I think I lost touch with myself – with the things that I had loved. Actually, I really feel like I’ve lost touch with God.
So today, I put on “Closer to Fine” by the Indigo Girls, read some letters from Montreat, and cried.
“I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain.
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line.
And the less I seek my source for some definitive,
the closer I am to fine.”
I look for definitive answers to why I’m not feeling like me. My grades. Boys. Gaining weight. Boys. The possibility of an ADHD diagnosis. Boys. I look for things that are going to make me feel like myself again. But I don’t think any of these things will make me feel better. I think my soul is searching for something more. Maybe God, maybe nature, maybe music. Probably all three.
I am Sara, and I still struggle with fine. But I think I’m on the right track again.