A Personal story I felt like sharing.
I still often dream of the fields I used to run as a child. There’s always something drawing me back there. In those dreams, I see a mysterious girl that calls out to me as though she knows me, and then I wake up, begging to return to that world of mystery.
My family celebrated my brother’s birthday yesterday, even though it's today. My mind isn’t exactly in the right place. I’m jealous of him. I’m jealous of him for no reason whatsoever, but still, jealous. He’s happy. He has a girlfriend, a job, a license, a car, and friends who he can see daily. It’s terrifying to me, because here I am, the older brother, and I haven’t experienced even half of what my younger brother has.
And I’m jealous as hell of my brother, and I can’t give you a solid reason why, except this. He has his life together, and I don’t. That is frightening. I have spent years trying to enjoy my life, and I just, don’t.
Still, I feel as though there’s something missing. Something I don’t understand lost in the fog of my fear. I trusted my instincts, and went with a degree I hated, at a college, where I didn’t find any new friends, and those I did find, left me behind. So I went with a degree I hated, just so that I could live, and make my own life.
I still hate everything about college. I hate the holier than thou approach to teaching. I hate that every single day that I have class that I always blow up at my failures. I hate that everyone becomes a wall, when I attempt to talk to them. I hate that my closest friends, have lives that require them to not talk to me for months on end.
And I know I'm wrong to think that. I know it's jealousy talking, rearing it's ugly head and laughing at me.
“You got a 93 on an open book test!” I think, and then reply to myself, “Should’ve been a 100, because it was all in my notes! The old man sitting next to me is getting higher grades then I am, damn it!”
Every positive thing, is followed by something awful occurring. I get a 87 on a midterm and then get told my homework looks like shit. I ask questions in class, and the teachers stare at me, as though asking a simple question is frowned upon.
“Well, the answer is on page 425 in your textbook”
“Okay so, you can’t explain it?”
“The answer is one we went over in class.”
“I haven’t missed one class professor, can you please explain this to me, since I still got this wrong.” They ignore me, because they don’t have any clue how I missed that question.
People who don't study, get A's, as I'm studying nonstop. It drives me mad. I see everyone else succeeding where I’m failing, and I’m sick of it, but I congratulate them. When you work harder then everyone else, for half the grade, it feels like a copout. You start thinking it's not worth it, and drop from C's to D's. Everyone says this is easy. Well, how did they do it, I wonder.
My muse is shot, except for rare glimpses of brilliance. So there I am, lost in the fog of my mind. I can't force my muse to write something I can't get into, so my writing has dwindled down to almost nothing.
I don’t know when I’ll be happy. I don’t know when my personal life is going to come together. But I have you, dear reader. That's enough for me.
There have been so many times, I have contemplated leaving Protagonize. I have friends here, but my personal life isn’t exactly together yet. I’m not leaving, but I will be taking a short break from working my muse to exhaustion. I just wanted to thank everyone for keeping my spirits up during all this time. You’ve all helped in some way, with your encouraging comments
If you have any idea how to help me fight the part of me that lunges self criticism at me, then leave a comment. Until then, I’ll be back with Magick And The Moonchild, the novel I’m writing for NaMoWriMo. Expect that November 1st.