A Very Long and Emo Post About Issues.
You know, I once had this idea that I would be an awesome author-blogger, with lots of entries about the random and mundane events of my life than still managed to be clever and facinating, so that people who read my work would come hnt me down on LJ and then love reading my posts. There are many ovious flaws with this plan, including:
1) Not yet being published
2) Still not being sure whether to publish under my own name or my pen name
3) Not updating enough anyway
4) Not writing about anything when I do blog
I really want to work on the last two. maybe I should pull a Mina Harker and vow to write in my journal every day, regardless. It would be a good exercize for me as a writer and, possibly, as a person.
The other thing that I constant have to remind myself is this: it's my journal. I can write whatever the hell I want in it. If people get offended, they are free to disagree, or defriend me, or whatever. I read every journal on my flist because I like knowing what's going on in the lives of others. The fact that I suck at remembering to comment, and never post anything of comment-worthy content anyway, is why i get very few comments in return. But again, while the comments are nice for the sake of knowing that people are friended to my journal for a reason, it's ultimately not about that. It's about me and my ability to get my thoughts on paper (or on screen, as it were). If I tried to do this in a notebook I'd never actually write anything. It's weird, really-I have no problem with people reading my journal, but I won't let them read my fiction.
I suppose it's because my fiction has more truth to it than my reality. Heaven forbid anyone ever figures that out.
I can't quite figure out what I'm doing anymore. I feel like I'm taking the easy way out with my education by following someone else so that all the work is done and I just have to follow the list. That's the way my brain works, in lists and logic. If I can lay it all out in a series of steps with exact instructions, then I know I can get it done. I like to have control over all the elements.
I think that's ultimately the problem I'm having right now. I'm going to a new college, in a new city, with a new list of steps. I'm leaving the order I've created in my current environment and moving on to something else with no plan and little control. And, the biggest issue I always fight with, I'm damn scared and don't know how to resolve that feeling.
I have absolutely no reason to feel like a failure, but I do. Apparently there are all these people out there who see what I'm doing and think I'm amazing and "well put-together", but I only know this from sidewase secondary and tertiary sources. I like to think that I'm content in myself without a constant need for outside affirmations, but lately that's not the case, and it's damn annoying.
What happens when your crisis of faith isn't a crisis of faith in God, but faith in yourself?
I'm at Point A, and I know what Point B I want to end up at. I can practically see it off in the distance. However, it's kind of like the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade-there's a giant chasm between A and B, and I know there's got to be a path somewhere, but I can't for the life of me find it. And unlike Indy, I don't have a Grail Diary with a lot of cryptic clues to guide me. I have a bunch of distant specators just watching to see if I'll jump, and if I do, will I land or fall?
And the worst part of it all is that I don't feel like I have any right to feel this way. My family is loving, supportive, and relatively wealthy. I have just barely under a 4.0 GPA because of a single B my entire 3 years of college so far. I have multiple jobs, none of which do I actually need to survive. In the analogy I used the last time about this, "why do I have I right to complain when I'm riding on the paved road in the Porche, while everyone else I know is trudging through the mud with a 20-lb. backpack?" It may be kind of silly to think like this, but it's the way my brain works.
I'm such a realist that when I look at my idealistic future, my brain simply says that, realistically, it's not going to happen. Sometimes it's really hard to be the grounded, logic-brained, face-the-facts one.
There. Now it's all said, and it's all (hopefully) out of my system. I'll probably look back at this in two days and think it was really silly for be to be so worked up over it all. In case I don't, though, at least this way I'll remember that this has been a thing before.
1) Not yet being published
2) Still not being sure whether to publish under my own name or my pen name
3) Not updating enough anyway
4) Not writing about anything when I do blog
I really want to work on the last two. maybe I should pull a Mina Harker and vow to write in my journal every day, regardless. It would be a good exercize for me as a writer and, possibly, as a person.
The other thing that I constant have to remind myself is this: it's my journal. I can write whatever the hell I want in it. If people get offended, they are free to disagree, or defriend me, or whatever. I read every journal on my flist because I like knowing what's going on in the lives of others. The fact that I suck at remembering to comment, and never post anything of comment-worthy content anyway, is why i get very few comments in return. But again, while the comments are nice for the sake of knowing that people are friended to my journal for a reason, it's ultimately not about that. It's about me and my ability to get my thoughts on paper (or on screen, as it were). If I tried to do this in a notebook I'd never actually write anything. It's weird, really-I have no problem with people reading my journal, but I won't let them read my fiction.
I suppose it's because my fiction has more truth to it than my reality. Heaven forbid anyone ever figures that out.
I can't quite figure out what I'm doing anymore. I feel like I'm taking the easy way out with my education by following someone else so that all the work is done and I just have to follow the list. That's the way my brain works, in lists and logic. If I can lay it all out in a series of steps with exact instructions, then I know I can get it done. I like to have control over all the elements.
I think that's ultimately the problem I'm having right now. I'm going to a new college, in a new city, with a new list of steps. I'm leaving the order I've created in my current environment and moving on to something else with no plan and little control. And, the biggest issue I always fight with, I'm damn scared and don't know how to resolve that feeling.
I have absolutely no reason to feel like a failure, but I do. Apparently there are all these people out there who see what I'm doing and think I'm amazing and "well put-together", but I only know this from sidewase secondary and tertiary sources. I like to think that I'm content in myself without a constant need for outside affirmations, but lately that's not the case, and it's damn annoying.
What happens when your crisis of faith isn't a crisis of faith in God, but faith in yourself?
I'm at Point A, and I know what Point B I want to end up at. I can practically see it off in the distance. However, it's kind of like the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade-there's a giant chasm between A and B, and I know there's got to be a path somewhere, but I can't for the life of me find it. And unlike Indy, I don't have a Grail Diary with a lot of cryptic clues to guide me. I have a bunch of distant specators just watching to see if I'll jump, and if I do, will I land or fall?
And the worst part of it all is that I don't feel like I have any right to feel this way. My family is loving, supportive, and relatively wealthy. I have just barely under a 4.0 GPA because of a single B my entire 3 years of college so far. I have multiple jobs, none of which do I actually need to survive. In the analogy I used the last time about this, "why do I have I right to complain when I'm riding on the paved road in the Porche, while everyone else I know is trudging through the mud with a 20-lb. backpack?" It may be kind of silly to think like this, but it's the way my brain works.
I'm such a realist that when I look at my idealistic future, my brain simply says that, realistically, it's not going to happen. Sometimes it's really hard to be the grounded, logic-brained, face-the-facts one.
There. Now it's all said, and it's all (hopefully) out of my system. I'll probably look back at this in two days and think it was really silly for be to be so worked up over it all. In case I don't, though, at least this way I'll remember that this has been a thing before.