9/1/14- Big Leagues

It’s that time again. The time of year when i start questioning everything about what is going on in my life, whether i’m getting somewhere, the crisis of being young etc… But this year the feelings i have are amplified stupendously, since i will be starting college in two days. I for one, have mixed feeling about this (about everything, ever, really) and really don’t know what the hell is going on in my mind. For one thing, i feel like general garbage due to the fact that the day and age of over-sharing has brought to my attention that my close group of friends are gone, and they are making friends and living on campus, where as i am feeling ever so stuck in the cage that is commuting to school (even though i failed my drivers test twice- so technically i will be dropped/carpooling to school for a little while, the quiet dignity that is failure-another story) and living at home. I don’t know if i can ever be very well adjusted to anything, i absolutely hate change and surprises (save a few), and mostly i like knowing whats going to happen next. I guess i’ll have to see what sorts of mistake i’ll have to deal with once i get more monotonously into a routine, something i’m all too comfortable with having.

   More pressing is the fact that i am totally floored with the amount of effort i have to put in now, since college is whats seen as “the big leagues”. Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time I have been in some form of “the big leagues” and during that time i happened to fuck everything up so horribly it effected my whole life for the next 4 years (i’m referring to the sprint and crash method i implemented going into high school), and in a emotional matter, probably more (here’s to you, future therapist). In eight grade i had a sternly wise math teacher who had a habit of forgetting my name and was so reminiscent of a old white football coach in an eighties film that the image of judd nelson’s fist up in the air always came to mind whenever i left his class (maybe because i hated math, or maybe because the connection was definitely there). Quirks aside, this math teacher told me that Eighth Grade was the big leagues. Eight. Grade. Even at age 13 i knew that was a pile of bullshit, so the idea of coasting stuck in my mind. Thus became my habit of not having any goals or fears, to the point where had fallen so behind it took two years to catch up, mentally with my peers. Eventually I made it, long enough to realize a few things, but mostly found a place where i fit in, with people i wanted to be with and things i could understand (senior year was really mine).

I blame this on what i called the “pushed forward” principle. In third grade when i switched from a private school to a public school, the school told my parents it may be beneficial if i remained with my age kids and did another round of second grade, however my parents, in true fashion, decided that i was smart enough (which i probably was) to join the third grade class in all its crayon colored glory, and was pushed forward. This leads me to believe that in an alternate universe somewhere, there is a non-pushed Maeher, who reached all her potential and didn’t constantly feel like she was out-of-the-loop on life. Now more than ever, as i see how mature and self-sufficient people my age are, all i feel is jealousy for that alternate version of me, who would’ve hypothetically done well, fit, in and mostly, didn’t feel like life was a race that she didn’t known had started. The more and more i see people my age living away from home, partying, driving, doing things by themselves, the more i realized i’m really not as mature as i think I am. But i know somethings in this world to b true, the fact that nothing is really original anymore, and that I will never be the only one to have these feelings, because even though i feel like i’m the lowest i know the people I envy for being more independent feel the exact same way.

Where this blog post began and ended, i don’t really know. I know that this won’t get many readers, and i don’t really care, i’m not in it to write and become the next journalist blogger with cunning wit and a sharp tongue (though i possess both things), i wanted to do this so i have somewhere to put my thoughts. Plus, it’s cheaper than therapy and (on a college girls budget) drugs.