In reply

How about we stop defining ourselves by what we are not doing. And not even what we are doing because, in my case, I lay in my bed like a veal or a sedentary yam. But just think about all the work you guys are producing, even though you are behind. Would you do it unless you were forced to? Maybe that is why you need to take a writing class, Kenna. It would force you to produce the work that you are capable of producing. Nag, nag, nag. We all need sleep or (and?) to do something so intensely amazing that school won't seem that important.

Let me know what that is.

(I took the liberty of editing this quote. If I've inadvertently changed the intended meaning, Word Diva, please let me know.)

This was a comment on a previous post. It took some time to process. While thinking about it, I realized I wanted to write it out. Writing allows me to better understand the thoughts ricocheting inside my skull.

(writing also allows me to come up with awesome new phrases like "ricocheting inside my skull" as opposed to my original line: "bouncing around off the walls of that place where thoughts bounce around in...off...in." Meh.)

Defining myself outside of what I'm doing/not doing/accomplishing/failing at miserably: it's been a long time.
College has conditioned me to gauge my self-value according to a formula of the quantity and the quality of work produced, divided by deadlines. I vaguely remember a time when this wasn't the case, when self-worth was based on your decency as a human being...it was so long ago...as if in a dream...

I am producing more work this semester than I have in a really long time, and I feel pretty good about that. The quality of the work is not where I'd like it to be, but it definitely shows progress. I'm glad I'm being forced to do this because there's no way I could pump it out of myself without some external pressure.

I need to find the balance between harnessing that external pressure towards self-improvement and self-destruction. And finding time to take care of my physical needs (i.e. sleep).

As for doing something "intensely amazing"... Believe it or not, school used to be my "intensely amazing" undertaking. It was important. The things I was learning were invigorating and cultivated an appreciation within me for the world we live in, for its history and variety, and it made me want to learn more. I miss studying important things: science, math, philosophy. But, inevitably, I burnt out.
Now I'm focused on learning a skill that I'd like to have but realize I will probably never really be very good at.

That was a long sentence. I regret nothing.

I'm so close to burning out. I'm close to graduation. Almost done, either way.

Right now the thing, the "intensely amazing" thing, that makes school seem unimportant is a single thought: surviving. I want to make rent. I want to keep eating. I want to not have another Chronic Fatigue relapse before December.

Ah, and there you have the heart of it. Under the sarcasm and flippant remarks lies the true drive behind the panic, the stress. The fear that I will crumble apart again.

If you meant "we all need sleep OR to do something so intensely amazing..." then I choose sleep. End of argument. Hands down. Period. Sleep will always win. Always.
If you meant "we all need sleep AND to do something so intensely amazing..." then I have some small hope.

I'll keep looking for some colossal, momentous dream that will overshadow the importance of school, and I'll let you know what it is once I get out of Survival-Mode. Truly, I will. Just hang tight.

As for writing... Truth be told, I wouldn't mind improving my writing skills. A class might be a good idea. But I've never seen myself as a writer. I'm not sure I really want to be "a writer." I like reading, but I've never read a book and thought, "Wow! That's kind of stuff I want to write!" No. I just genuinely appreciate the work. Besides that, I don't know that I have anything important to say - no desperately urgent story or message, clawing to get out, to be shared with the world. Things that I want to say are said here, on this blog, and that's sufficient for me. For the time being.

I'm not sure this post came even close to addressing the questions raised in the original comment. I answered some personal questions, but those were undoubtedly different from what was originally intended. I've read and re-read this a hundred times and I still can't determine if it even makes sense. Too much? Too heavy? Too off-topic?
I have no idea.
I feel inexplicably satisfied, though. I guess that means it's time to click "Publish Post."

Here goes.