Lord, give me patience, and give it to me right now.
Just yesterday a couple of classmates and I went touring the county that surrounds our campus. Somewhere along the line we ended up at Ingles, the local supermarket, and my roommate decides to pick up a tiny box of milk chocolate fudge (despite the fact that she's completely lactose intolerant. This is at times both hilarious and terrifying and I actually have gotten into the habit of carrying a handful of lactate in my purse whenever we go out just in case she forgets to take one and her entrails decide to self-combust). She's convinced that this particular brand of fudge is the best fudge on this side of the hemisphere and tries to convince me to eat it. To be honest, I'm not a terribly big fan of chocolate though I do enjoy it to an extent (doesn't it make you thirsty? It makes me crazy thirsty) so I protest until finally, we've watched enough stupid youtube videos online to put me in a cheery and persuasive enough mood that I go over to the vanity and try to open the box of fudge. My roommate instantly starts to play the theme song from Remember the Titans; "We need something epic," she claims in her defense.
So I attempt to open the oval shaped box (it looks like the shape of a lava lamp). And after the first few twists and turns I realize that I can't and I stare at it rather comically and of course, we all make a joke of it. Julie tells me: "Oh my god, you're like, an autistic child!" And I stare at her and go: "Excuse me?!" To which she responds: "Oh yeah. You're smart and you work super hard and you're really great at school stuff but when it comes to actually functioning, you can't." And then we just burst into hysterics and somebody trips on our new carpet.
After 24 hours, as I sit here in another one of my studying stumps, I realize that some of what she said is actually vaguely true (some other parts, of course, are completely not true). First of all, she kind of got 45% of the definition of Autism completely off but let's not get into specifics here. Secondly, I realize that, though a bit skewed, her observation of my functioning is remarkably acceptable. Though I will admit I am rather fashionably socialized among other things and that I am not really at a lack for much needed for survival in such a nutty world, there comes a time when I just cannot seem to juggle all these different parts of me correctly. So many times I've tried to work myself into some sort of definition - you know, either you're a party goer, a socialite, a Greek life kid, an athlete, the accomplished student, etc. etc. because I read too many dorky books and watch too many unrealistic TV shows that do just that. But at the end of the day of course, I realize that it's hardly possible and that this is a good thing, that I'm really a mixture of everything but sometimes, I run into this weirdo identity crisis - you know, the one that's rooted to the: "I don't know what I want to do with my life" thing that seems to plague 90% of the student population.
I think what I mean is sometimes, I just don't feel like I'm anchored and sometimes, this scares me. The freedom of not knowing is good sometimes, just going with the flow, just seeing what new flavor the box-of-chocolate-that-is-life, flings at you. It's exciting sometimes too. But other times, in the middle of the night without anybody around, it can be terrifying. It's like you're on a ship and sometimes looking out over the horizon and seeing the sun come up is an amazingly breathtaking thing. But other times, it's earth shatteringly scary, seeing nothing but miles upon miles of that massive blue, that uncertainty.
I also don't think it's healthy to wake up every morning wondering who it is I'm going to offend today. I hate living so scared of being hated all the time. All the time.
My classmates have already realized that I am an extreme sort of person, meaning, I veer from one extreme end of the mental-emotional spectrum to the next - from either really excitable to very depressed. It's never somewhere in between and if I have somehow managed to reach a sort of peace or a sort of equilibrium, it is short lived and bound to be tipped off somehow. It's not a bad thing, I don't think but it certainly does tire me out at times.
And I've realized how much I really need some people, the people that I care and love for the most. You guys are the weights that help balance out my crazy topsy-turvy internal scale. You help me stabilize.
I have itched to write so much more these days.
Most of this was not coherent and I apologize.
On a lighter note, my schoolmates have taken to calling me Bojangles. Julie uses it as an excuse to scream "Bobo!" down the dorm hallway with little penalty.
I will actually have a post that has to do with school and other "things that actually matter" (ha) eventually (next). Because I'm sure all of you are just so curious as to what I'm planning on majoring in and my classes and my teachers' occasional psychotic episodes and my fish. Yes, you heard right. That's all coming up next week to an LJ near you. Grab some popcorn.
So I attempt to open the oval shaped box (it looks like the shape of a lava lamp). And after the first few twists and turns I realize that I can't and I stare at it rather comically and of course, we all make a joke of it. Julie tells me: "Oh my god, you're like, an autistic child!" And I stare at her and go: "Excuse me?!" To which she responds: "Oh yeah. You're smart and you work super hard and you're really great at school stuff but when it comes to actually functioning, you can't." And then we just burst into hysterics and somebody trips on our new carpet.
After 24 hours, as I sit here in another one of my studying stumps, I realize that some of what she said is actually vaguely true (some other parts, of course, are completely not true). First of all, she kind of got 45% of the definition of Autism completely off but let's not get into specifics here. Secondly, I realize that, though a bit skewed, her observation of my functioning is remarkably acceptable. Though I will admit I am rather fashionably socialized among other things and that I am not really at a lack for much needed for survival in such a nutty world, there comes a time when I just cannot seem to juggle all these different parts of me correctly. So many times I've tried to work myself into some sort of definition - you know, either you're a party goer, a socialite, a Greek life kid, an athlete, the accomplished student, etc. etc. because I read too many dorky books and watch too many unrealistic TV shows that do just that. But at the end of the day of course, I realize that it's hardly possible and that this is a good thing, that I'm really a mixture of everything but sometimes, I run into this weirdo identity crisis - you know, the one that's rooted to the: "I don't know what I want to do with my life" thing that seems to plague 90% of the student population.
I think what I mean is sometimes, I just don't feel like I'm anchored and sometimes, this scares me. The freedom of not knowing is good sometimes, just going with the flow, just seeing what new flavor the box-of-chocolate-that-is-life, flings at you. It's exciting sometimes too. But other times, in the middle of the night without anybody around, it can be terrifying. It's like you're on a ship and sometimes looking out over the horizon and seeing the sun come up is an amazingly breathtaking thing. But other times, it's earth shatteringly scary, seeing nothing but miles upon miles of that massive blue, that uncertainty.
I also don't think it's healthy to wake up every morning wondering who it is I'm going to offend today. I hate living so scared of being hated all the time. All the time.
My classmates have already realized that I am an extreme sort of person, meaning, I veer from one extreme end of the mental-emotional spectrum to the next - from either really excitable to very depressed. It's never somewhere in between and if I have somehow managed to reach a sort of peace or a sort of equilibrium, it is short lived and bound to be tipped off somehow. It's not a bad thing, I don't think but it certainly does tire me out at times.
And I've realized how much I really need some people, the people that I care and love for the most. You guys are the weights that help balance out my crazy topsy-turvy internal scale. You help me stabilize.
I have itched to write so much more these days.
Most of this was not coherent and I apologize.
On a lighter note, my schoolmates have taken to calling me Bojangles. Julie uses it as an excuse to scream "Bobo!" down the dorm hallway with little penalty.
I will actually have a post that has to do with school and other "things that actually matter" (ha) eventually (next). Because I'm sure all of you are just so curious as to what I'm planning on majoring in and my classes and my teachers' occasional psychotic episodes and my fish. Yes, you heard right. That's all coming up next week to an LJ near you. Grab some popcorn.