Breaking the Silence: Where I've Been (Part 2)
So, to continue...
In December of 2008, Anne started dating my roommate. I was already in a pretty bad state. There were a couple months of build-up before that, so it wasn't a shock to me. I knew it would happen. But it certainly didn't help me any. Especially since one of the things Anne told me when explaining why she was no longer interested in possibly dating me was that I needed to be more confident, like my roommate. Ouch.
Prior to that point, I had been dealing with my disappointment and angst by mostly avoiding people. After that, even my room was not a safe place to hide. People could find me there, two people in particular. Very awkward. I had a hard time being around them at all, especially at first. But it wasn't as if I could do anything, or as if I even wanted to do anything. Not my place, certainly not rational or right. Uneasy and quite unable to even express that unease, I found every dark corner on campus and spent most of my time there. Incidentally, I can probably tell you more about the forgotten wilderness areas of USF than almost anybody. I can also tell you that it's a good thing I'm a guy, because a female with any sense would have been extremely unsafe in most of my favorite hiding places.
I spent a lot of time praying. I guess that's one good thing to come out of everything. I have never prayed so much as I did when I was depressed and hopeless. I also had a bit of a crisis of faith. It's strange that the two go together, but they do. And my faith in God is stronger now because of it. Still, I would not recommend the experience. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.
Early in 2009, I developed something of a crush on another girl. I spent a while trying to pray it away, but eventually I had to sit down and tell her that I liked her. She understood perfectly well and had kind of noticed, but she was not ready for a relationship, and knew that I wasn't either. That incident restored my faith in humanity somewhat. At least it was possible to be let down gently. Actually, it might have been the best thing that happened to me throughout all of my sophomore year of college.
Later on, after much prayer and help from friends, I finally felt like I could deal with life again. Then I applied to be an RA. And failed miserably. Applicants here are either hired, put in the alternate pool, or "not hired", which I was told prior to applying was only for people who really screwed up in the interview and were considered completely unsuited to the job. Guess which category I was in. I was devastated. It brought back all of the crap I'd been dealing with for the past several months. It's funny how little things can shatter the illusion that our lives are okay.
That's enough for tonight. But I will finish this story later. Meanwhile, I applied for an RA position again this year. I wish I had some good news, but the fact is that the same thing happened again. I'm still not good enough even to be an alternate.
Goodnight.
In December of 2008, Anne started dating my roommate. I was already in a pretty bad state. There were a couple months of build-up before that, so it wasn't a shock to me. I knew it would happen. But it certainly didn't help me any. Especially since one of the things Anne told me when explaining why she was no longer interested in possibly dating me was that I needed to be more confident, like my roommate. Ouch.
Prior to that point, I had been dealing with my disappointment and angst by mostly avoiding people. After that, even my room was not a safe place to hide. People could find me there, two people in particular. Very awkward. I had a hard time being around them at all, especially at first. But it wasn't as if I could do anything, or as if I even wanted to do anything. Not my place, certainly not rational or right. Uneasy and quite unable to even express that unease, I found every dark corner on campus and spent most of my time there. Incidentally, I can probably tell you more about the forgotten wilderness areas of USF than almost anybody. I can also tell you that it's a good thing I'm a guy, because a female with any sense would have been extremely unsafe in most of my favorite hiding places.
I spent a lot of time praying. I guess that's one good thing to come out of everything. I have never prayed so much as I did when I was depressed and hopeless. I also had a bit of a crisis of faith. It's strange that the two go together, but they do. And my faith in God is stronger now because of it. Still, I would not recommend the experience. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.
Early in 2009, I developed something of a crush on another girl. I spent a while trying to pray it away, but eventually I had to sit down and tell her that I liked her. She understood perfectly well and had kind of noticed, but she was not ready for a relationship, and knew that I wasn't either. That incident restored my faith in humanity somewhat. At least it was possible to be let down gently. Actually, it might have been the best thing that happened to me throughout all of my sophomore year of college.
Later on, after much prayer and help from friends, I finally felt like I could deal with life again. Then I applied to be an RA. And failed miserably. Applicants here are either hired, put in the alternate pool, or "not hired", which I was told prior to applying was only for people who really screwed up in the interview and were considered completely unsuited to the job. Guess which category I was in. I was devastated. It brought back all of the crap I'd been dealing with for the past several months. It's funny how little things can shatter the illusion that our lives are okay.
That's enough for tonight. But I will finish this story later. Meanwhile, I applied for an RA position again this year. I wish I had some good news, but the fact is that the same thing happened again. I'm still not good enough even to be an alternate.
Goodnight.