Mid-College Crisis

I recently tackled one of the more unsettling experiences of my young-adult life.  That’s right.  I faced my mid-college crisis.  We all have one at some point.  I remember back in the day... a whole three years ago...  I was a wide-eyed freshman, blissfully unaware of the sense of responsibility and looming awareness of adulthood waiting to snatch me with their snarly claws just around the corner of Junior year. 

For those who have experienced said mid-college crisis, you know the cracks in the once indestructible façade of confidence.  You know the dimming glimmer of telling people you are a  _______ major and wondering if you even like the way it sounds when you say it out loud.  For those who have not experienced the crisis… you will.  Sooner or later.  Allow me to soften the blow a bit by having you take an exclusive sneak peak into my glass case of emotion.  Now, the mind of a third year student in this tumultuous stage is like a pinball machine, darting from one place to another, dashing against obstacles, and exploding with sudden bursts of light and bell sounds.  Bear with me.  The cliff notes version went a bit like this: 

I am a Junior in college.  I am a JUNIOR in COLLEGE.  I am 21 years old.  I remember when 21 used to seem so old.  It’s not old right?  Nah, I’m super young.  Oh my gosh.  I was a junior in high school 4 years ago.  Yeah, I’m way old. That was four years ago?! Ok.  Composure. 

I just thought I would have accomplished so much more by now.  Done so much more.  Seen things.  Known things.  Do I know anything?  Anything at all?  Quick!  Think of something you know. 

My brain is an empty vat of nothing.

I have so much that I want to do and so little time to do it.  Only a year and a half left.  Life will officially end on graduation day.  So long to my joy.  Buhbye to my youth.   I will have to leave behind my scholastic comfort zone in order to get a real job.  A job.  Not a summer job or a part-time job or I’ll house/pet/baby sit and call it a job-job.  A real-life, grown-up job.  

How can I have a profession?  I have no skills.  Can I do anything?  I can whistle.  That won’t help with anything.  I could become a YouTube sensation?  I won’t completely rule that out.

I don’t even have an internship.  That’s a big buzzword, isn’t it?  The almighty internship.  Dang it. I should probably start applying for some internships. 

Wait.  Is this even what I want to do with my life?  I always thought it was, but now I am not so sure.  I feel like I lack passion.  I should be passionate about my career.  I should be barely able to sleep because I am so excited to hop out of my bed and skip merrily to work the next day, stopping in the middle of the street to raise my fists to the heavens in ecstatic triumph, “Hello, world! I love my job!” 

That’s it.  I am running away to Disney World. 

Man, when I get a job, that means I will have to actually make a living to sustain myself.  I am going to have to do without a lot of things.  As in, a lot of nice things.  As in, I might be homeless.  Can I balance a checkbook?  Can I live off of lean cuisines the rest of my existence?

Stop.  (Hammer time.)

I can’t think of anything else that could suit me more than my major.

I have really great friends and family that support me with anything.

I have made amazing memories.  And still have the rest of my life to make more!

I am my own biggest critic.

One day at a time.

Breathe.

Breathe again.

One more time for good measure.

Do not fret, my collegiate peers.  We can do anything—including survive the stage of panic that is the inevitable mid-college crisis. 

Be Here Now

It certainly has been a while since writing.  Over a whole semester’s worth of activities have passed and I have not been able to put my sarcastic and flowery spin on it.  This year school has seemed to consume my time more than usual, which, for anyone who knows me, is saying a lot.  Oh, gone are the days of when a “paper” meant three paragraphs on what you did over [insert season] break.  Now are the days of writing an eight page researcher’s profile on my personal paradigms and theories on interpersonal communication.  At school, we do not have any time to slow down—no time to even realize we are tired.  Go, go, go is the mentality.  At home, it all catches up to you and you find yourself rolling out of bed at 1:00 in the afternoon. The rest of the holidays having been equal part eating, equal part burning it off, I found myself with time (yes actual true time) to think about things. 

This just shows a grave problem that I do not believe I face alone.  I have not been slowing down long enough to really “be” in these moments.  Sure, I am busy.  We all get busy.  But at what price?  Sometimes it takes stepping back for a minute and allow ourselves to see the picture as a whole.  I know I am certainly guilty of taking a quick mental picture, only to get lost in the memory card which is our minds, revisited briefly, and eventually erased to make room for other, more current activities.  My resolution (one month late) is to try and do a better job of appreciating all the little things, as cliché as it may sound.   My favorite acting teacher once told me, that in life we have to remember 3 simple words: “Be here now.”  Sounds easy enough, but not always the case for someone like me, who tends to think 10 steps ahead.  Be here. Now. That’s what I intend to do.