I have ever so luckily managed to have a very hectic, slightly depressing, and unsuccessful two years. With its minor ups and major downs, I have managed to disappoint my parents in every facet possible. I have managed to ruin and end a year and a half long relationship with the one person who seemed to understand me, appreciate my unconventional interests, and managed to somehow put up with my never-ending bullshit. I have managed to join another seemingly fruitful, invigorating relationship with another person who also manages to love me despite my emotional banters and unwarranted mood swings. I have even managed to fall elusively under the enchanting spell of various male sirens despite finding love again. I have lost all previous acquired common sense and every possible sense of potential academic success. Despite this, I have managed to graduate high-school and attend a dreadful four year university. And I have managed to become possibly the most conceited, self-absorbed person in the entire freaking universe, to say the absolute least.
Because of this, I haven't posted on my thriving (I say "thriving" in the most sarcastic of terms) blog in about 2 years. So, I apologize in advance if my quality of writing is completely sub par.
So, I guess in this post, I will confirm this newly gained sense of conceited-ness, and talk about my "hectic, slightly depressing, and unsuccessful 2 years."
I can't even begin to fathom the idea of not posting in over 700 days. I have become a completely different person. I am no longer an outspoken, sassy fifteen year old complaining about life and people and family and milky ways. I am no longer a halfway decent writer. I am no longer the Shads I was so proud to be.
Reading through all of these old posts, written by an outspoken sophomore in high school, made me realize how much I dearly missed writing. I haven't written for enjoyment in...well...years.
This blog is not for readers in Germany to be utterly blown away by how I am able to combine SAT vocabulary words into a somewhat coherent sentence. This blog is for me. It always has been. It allows me to vent...to blow off the never ending steam that has sunken deep into my heart, fighting for a way to get out.
I want to revisit the past two years in this post. Of course there is no way in hell I will be able to go through all of the specific events that used to cause such a panic in my small brain; however, I will recount the important events and go from there.
In May of 2013, I graduated high school. Senior year was an adventurous time to say the absolute least. After being dumped by a boy I thought I would spend at least another few months infatuating over, I was lonely and lost and confused and sad...I hated myself. I found myself seeking happiness from others. I was losing myself in a sea of horny pubescent boys. When senior year hit, I attempted to start over. I had high hopes of getting straight A's and getting into Harvard or some pretentious ivy league of equal or lesser value. Distracted by boys, intimidating AP English teachers, and the never-ending high school drama, my grades plummeted. I managed to get into some pretty good schools (mainly because I had a pretty killer essay and a shitload of experience). I also managed to be swept of my feet by a daringly handsome seventeen year old with an extremely attractive jaw.
When it came down to choosing schools/major/life path, I was utterly confused. I knew exactly what my parents wanted. They wanted me to attend a cheap, relatively high-ranking state school and major in a field that would garner an excessive amount of mullah.
I wanted something completely different. I wanted to go to a small liberal arts women's college and major in a field that I loved. Something like english or teaching or astronomy...
I had no say in the matter. We can all assume where I ended up.
I cried and cried and cried until my eyes shriveled up from the sudden lack of moisture. Having no say in where I wanted to go to college truly saddened me to no end. I was frustrated, infuriated, and insulted that my happiness was of no importance...
I managed to bring my grades up towards the end of senior year. I graduated with honors and I made my family mildly proud of my accomplishments (even though graduating high school is expected and should not necessarily be classified as an "accomplishment" in my family). On graduation day, I heard more of:
"Make us proud in college."
"This is your life, don't mess it up."
"It's all on you now."
"Life isn't going to get easier."
than:
"Congratulations, sweetie!"
"I'm so proud of you!"
"We love you!"
After graduation, summer hit. I spent a week at my new academic home, so to speak, and I learned to love it. I suddenly became excited about the upcoming fall semester. During the summer, I spent a lot of time with friends, family, and my new found love interest while also being consumed with a crazy diet (I managed to somehow lose 10 lbs. by the end of summer).
My mediocre summer quickly came to an end and I was stuck with buying school supplies, dorm accessories, and a large amount of other meaningless crap to prepare for college. I was petrified by the idea of college. I was convinced that wasn't ready to embark on this new life. I had to make new friends, get involved in clubs, be social, while attempting to attain a decent GPA by the end of the semester.
When move in day came, I don't think I was prepared for the sudden joy I acquired so quickly. I was making friends and having fun. It was marvelous.
As the weeks went on, I was making more friends, being social, getting involved, and avoiding my parents. Things were great...
Suddenly, I hit a major roadblock. People were always in my room. I realized I was only making friends from the male species. I wasn't getting my work done. My grades were plummeting. I cheated on my boyfriend. I was doing things I would've NEVER done in my high school days. I was becoming more aggressive. I wasn't being myself...
I was losing myself.
I began to quickly hate my school. I hated it for the disgusting, sexist, racist, disrespectful white boys I was, for some odd reason, becoming friends with. I hated it for the super smart kids who would refuse to help me with my physics homework. I hated it for the boys that tried to get in my pants. I hated it for the constant sh** I had to deal with on a daily basis.
I realized I needed a change.
It took me some time (and it's still in the works), but I am getting it together. And the semester is far from over.
So, that's where I am at this current moment. I am alive. I am prospering...somewhat. I am trying my best.
I am going to try to continue posting. I honestly believe that posting is the only way I will stay sane this semester.
Well, that's all I have for now. Thank you, my dear readers. And a special thank you to that one person in Germany. I finally posted.
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