Maturing Backwards

So I'm reading old posts on my LJ, to try and get a sense of what I was like back in high school. This was inspired by recently visiting my high school, in order to get Girl Scout cookies from my AP Government teacher. I felt shy, quiet, and disconnected from the high school world -- like it was ages ago, like I didn't know about it or what to say.

I've felt that way about a lot of things, lately.

Reading the old entries is fascinating. The thing is, though I whined and bitched and fretted a lot, I was a very insightful high school senior. Though I denied my anxiety, it is plain as day, as are my desperate attempts to reason through it. But also clear are other things. Acknowledgements that I won't get anywhere if I don't push myself a bit. Acknowledgement that parents will be parents.

I feel like I may have lost that, somehow. That I have somehow matured backwards, skidding on that scale. I'm not sure it's possible for someone to do that. I'm not sure if it's just the depression talking.

It's talked a lot lately.

My AP Government teacher seemed very excited to see me, and seemed to be keeping track of my life nearly better than I could. I saw two other teachers, my AP Calculus and AP Stats teachers; I would have liked to see more but I could not find them, and felt weird peaking into rooms. But both of the others, upon hearing I graduate in May, were shocked that time had flown by. My AP Government teacher just said "I know."

So do I, my friend.

All of them asked of my plans. I told them all how I'm getting a graduate degree at Cornell. My AP Government teacher commented that it made sense that I would stay at Cornell, because "You are already at the top. Why go elsewhere?"

She has a point. A new perspective perhaps. I am stuck in the perspective of "never good enough". I have a 2.725 GPA. That's a B-, more or less even. My grades poorly reflect that, being mostly C's balanced out by the random A's. It's below a 3.0, and I cannot convince myself that that is somehow a good thing. So many places want a 3.0GPA or above. They do not seem to care if I come from Cornell or not.

That and I don't have research experience, just experience working at a dining hall and pushing my way through courses. Right now I am taking a mere 10 credits, three courses and a seminar. I feel inferior. Not good enough. Not smart enough.

Hence the different perspective. It's hard to think I'm at the top. I feel like I'm at the bottom. What I have to remind myself of -- think of, perhaps regularly -- is that I'm at the bottom of the top.

In the grand scheme of things, that may not be so awful.

I still don't have a graduate advisor. I still fear I won't be able to pay for my apartment. I still fear that other shoe dropping, falling.

But sometimes I need that bit of different perspective, even if it comes from not knowing all of the details. Or does it? I do not know. I found I did not speak much. I didn't know what to say, anymore.

The facts are odd to sift through, anyway. I finished my undergraduate degree a semester early. Technically everything I'm taking now is supposed to be for grad. I was told how to find an advisor. Eventually I should get one. But I freeze and become certain it won't happen.

I feel like I missed a bit of everything, everywhere, and now it's coming back to bite me. But is it really? I don't know. It could be the anxiety, or it could be truth. I suspect it's a mix of both.

Maybe it's that everyone seems so excited and proud of me, and I cannot match their feelings.

Maybe it's that never-ending doubt -- almost a certainty I'll fail.

Always thought that way, always will? I suppose that's what the book my therapist told me to read is for.

It feels weird thinking I may be able to handle life less now than I did in high school. I know that's not true, of course. Back then I just bottled everything up, hence why I had such extensive LJ posts in the first place. At least now I try to interact to people. I just don't know if I do it right. *chuckle*

I'm really tempted to set my status to something about the depression, to see what people say. It's been around for, what, five months now? Stupid stuff, doesn't want to leave. I really will have to talk to my psychiatrist about these meds.

But anyway. It was nice to see some teachers again, if only for the encouragement ((refreshment; um, what?)) and to relive the memories. My AP Government teacher even mentioned something about seeing my graduation on FB or something, which kind of surprised me. I guess I just assumed no one would care anymore.

Oh well.

Also, can I say it's just really weird to think one of my teachers (AP Government teacher, of course) was one of the first to really point out how weird/problematic my eating habits are? Go, go observant teachers. I still wonder if my AP English teacher noticed the depression.

In other news, AG is a pain in the ass. I'm trying to write the novel. I really am. But I just can't get into it. I keep getting stuck at the end of scenes, interestingly enough. Not sure what's up; I will keep trying. This will be one of my few chances to write the novel in a while, so I must take advantage of it.

But instead I'm playing League of Legends. I have this sort of love/hate/fear relationship with LoL. I find it fun. But it scares me because it involves other people and I'm sort of terrible at it and I don't feel like I'll ever be good at it. I still played three games in a row, but I felt inadequate in almost all of them. Granted, I was doing better than this one other guy, so I'm not a total noob. Just 95% of one. *laugh*

Also the CT weather hates me. Every time I plan something with my cousin Marie, the weather always turns disastrous. It doesn't like us getting together and planning nefarious deeds, of course.

And my mother and I have been mostly getting along despite a message she sent me where she basically went "You told me you didn't care about Dragon Day. You could have not invited me. My feelings are hurt." No, that does not make any more sense in context. And no, she has not brought it up since. Spill out the hurt, then leave the victim upset. Family strategy.

Also apparently the psychiatrist at her job is Mr. Hitler because he was yelling at them for stuff and my mother just doesn't like him. I feel like Mr. Hitler wasn't a Muslim, nor a psychiatrist, nor from Pakistan.

I also went to the dentist today. I guess my body got sick of the pain -- she had the suction/air thing rested on my lip while my mouth was wide open, and for some reason it HURT like hell. Kept clenching my fists, twitching, etc. to try and ignore it. I guess it didn't work because she went to do something -- I think open my mouth further -- and I just spontaneously pushed her hand away. I instantly apologized and she didn't seem too surprised/annoyed, but still, way to go feral on the dentist, self.

Of course at one point she went "Oh, I see this [wisdom tooth] is still healing" and then POKED THE HEALING AREA WITH THE DENTAL HOOK a few times, which stung like hell and left me even more sore. This being the same side she was placing the suction tube on. So maybe my instincts knew what they were doing when they tried to push her away. Leave my poor healing surgical wound alone. D:

Oh life.

To end this entry before I lose interest and never post it: one of the best weird dreams ever.

First it started off strange. One of my freshman coworkers and I were driving around in my Prius in the pedestrian streets of a Chinatown. We came upon these large red Chinese/"Oriental" designed arches. We drove through them, and parked the car, and got some tea and sat on rugs and decided to eat there. The owner looked like he wanted to object to us bringing the car through the gate of his restaurant, but hey.

Then I think I must have woken up, likely due to a text from K who hadn't slept enough. Then I fell back to sleep, and into the silliest dream ever.

I had been kidnapped by supervillians. I was desperate for a way to escape. Finally, I got free, and was running across this sunny, sandy land, frantic, certain they'd catch me...

And that's when I started kayaking down aqueducts. Without the kayak. Or the oar. I was sitting, legs straight out in front of me, wearing I'm pretty sure nothing but a white towel, and making the motions of kayaking. I moved forward like I actually WAS in a boat. The water was crystal clear and somewhat bluish, though not as blue as the sky, with its puffy white clouds. I passed by some kids who were also kayaking without kayaks, and we waved at each other.

Eventually I found a sign on sandstone sewer-like walls that had an arrow with the word "Olin Library". Excellent! I fake-kayaked to the end of the aqueduct, then got out of the water and hustled up a sandstone staircase, out of the mysterious sewer tunnel that the aqueduct emptied into, and out into sunlight. Yes, sunlight, in Ithaca.

I found Neil, who gave me a very brief hug before declaring "Sorry, I don't like hugs" and walking off. To another group of people. One guy whom he hugged. I was hurt and a little miffed. After all, I had just gotten back from being kidnapped. How dare he!

Of course it wasn't long before the supervillians were back and a bunch of us were facing off. One of the supervillians, who is actually someone who comes to the LARP sessions, tried to cast tear gas on me. Yes, cast. I protested, saying that he couldn't cast it. Why? Magic didn't work that way. As I lectured, you see, you need to use the elements, and tear gas isn't an element. Well, okay, I suppose an Earth Mage could morph the earth into gold and then shatter that to make tear gas, so you know what, do that. But no you don't have to make the gestures. They aren't necessary, you can just do it.

In the background, one of the real-life storytellers for our LARP slammed his head into a conveniently-located table.

And shortly after that, I woke up. It wasn't until I was in the shower that it started to filter back and I asked "Wait, what?"

I have the best weird dreams. I do love the logic of turning gold into tear gas. I didn't know it worked that way!

Also poor Neil, my subconscious makes him act like a huge ass in my dreams, without fail, every time.

Speaking of Neil, my mother has twice mentioned this break that maybe I will "rekindle my romance" with Neil. UH HOW ABOUT "WE'RE JUST FRIENDS" MOM AND IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS KTHXBAI.

So yeah. My life is still strange. I'm still strange. Some things never change.

Now to see if I can something out of this poor novel.

Tschuess.