(no subject)
Within the last three months, I've seen a cardiologist, an optometrist, a dentist and an orthodontist. I have an appointment to see a dermatologist in a little over a week. I'm eating as healthy as possible and exercising around a schedule. I've lost over 20 pounds since my last annual physical at work. Despite being in good shape and being in the care of those who look out for my heart, eyes, teeth and skin, I can't help but feel like I'm eventually going to need the care of a psychiatrist. I still haven't been able to fully disassociate myself from the idea that my past had so much potential, that I may be past my prime, that I am still making up for lost time in some sense and that I am still fairly uncertain about my future.
My dad said something to me the other day and I still don't know how I feel about it. When I was in kindergarten, my teachers approached my parents and offered the option of having me skip a grade. This would have made me nearly two years younger than most of my classmates. My parents declined, thinking that I would've had a hard time adapting with older kids. I wish somebody would have at least asked me how I felt about it. I wish I didn't have to hear about it 21 years later when I'm struggling to understand where I stand relative to other people who are "naturally gifted."
Other than that, I'm bummed out for a couple reasons, all perhaps related to how on the graph of life, things swung 50 standard deviations for myself and others. People close to me seem to be going through a period of contemplation. While contemplation is healthy, it is also serious and I am hoping that people don't expect a rebound (at least from me.) Although my body seems to be getting closer to my ideal, my more important missions remain unfulfilled. I've determined that I will be incurring more college debt that may push back my break-even point to age 30 (in a best-case scenario.) After that, I will be so encapsulated in a world full of figures that I wonder how many people could take me literally.
In a world full of these complex constructs and structures built to keep things appearing like they should be on pedestals, I might find myself running into some gifted woman in a classroom, a lab, a park, a party, wherever. She might dig my eyes/teeth/skin/heart/shape. We might get close enough where she'll think it appropriate to put her hand on my head, tell me to close my eyes, count to ten and that I will wake up with her scent overwriting all of the bad fragments of my memories. I'll ask her if I can call her "Psyche." I won't help but feel like I'll be all caught up, that I'll know where the future is headed, that there is still potential to be found, that I can still feel prime at 29, 31, 37, 41, 43 and all the numbers above and between.
My dad said something to me the other day and I still don't know how I feel about it. When I was in kindergarten, my teachers approached my parents and offered the option of having me skip a grade. This would have made me nearly two years younger than most of my classmates. My parents declined, thinking that I would've had a hard time adapting with older kids. I wish somebody would have at least asked me how I felt about it. I wish I didn't have to hear about it 21 years later when I'm struggling to understand where I stand relative to other people who are "naturally gifted."
Other than that, I'm bummed out for a couple reasons, all perhaps related to how on the graph of life, things swung 50 standard deviations for myself and others. People close to me seem to be going through a period of contemplation. While contemplation is healthy, it is also serious and I am hoping that people don't expect a rebound (at least from me.) Although my body seems to be getting closer to my ideal, my more important missions remain unfulfilled. I've determined that I will be incurring more college debt that may push back my break-even point to age 30 (in a best-case scenario.) After that, I will be so encapsulated in a world full of figures that I wonder how many people could take me literally.
In a world full of these complex constructs and structures built to keep things appearing like they should be on pedestals, I might find myself running into some gifted woman in a classroom, a lab, a park, a party, wherever. She might dig my eyes/teeth/skin/heart/shape. We might get close enough where she'll think it appropriate to put her hand on my head, tell me to close my eyes, count to ten and that I will wake up with her scent overwriting all of the bad fragments of my memories. I'll ask her if I can call her "Psyche." I won't help but feel like I'll be all caught up, that I'll know where the future is headed, that there is still potential to be found, that I can still feel prime at 29, 31, 37, 41, 43 and all the numbers above and between.