Thursday, September 25, 2008


My reasons for writing, or blogging, have varied over the years. I began to blog because of the emotional rollercoaster I was in. When I look back at those earlier entries, I realized that I continue to write because of my emotions.

It has never been easy for me to write, and expressing my frustration, sadness, or anger was a fairly difficult thing to accomplish. To this day, I still close my self off from most people, but there are a few in which I confide to regarding my fears and sometimes, emotions.

To be honest, I lack a lot of confidence in myself, especially in the realm of intelligence. For years I have tried to disassociate myself with the idea that I am not smart enough, not good enough for this or that. The reason I applied to state schools was because I was too lazy to take the GRE, and if I did take the GRE, I felt I would have scored either just average or below average. I never felt my test scores reflected my grades properly, and fear had overtaken my sense of accomplishment. No matter what I did, I felt people would look at application and then toss it aside. Surely there are more qualified applicants than someone like her.

So here I am, wondering if I made the right choice. And there's this additional pressure where I know is coming from one source: me. While all my friends are in graduate school, off doing things elsewhere in the country, I feel that I undershot my goals compared to them. And I know I shouldn't do this, but I still do.

Frustration. That is what I feel. Frustrated about my decisions and everything I ever wanted is just so vague now. The easy answer is to settle, but the question is, what to settle for? I still have a difficult time communicating my ideas and emotions, both on paper and in conversation. Then I convince myself that I am just an average person who lucked out in all aspects. I shut down and just have these internal battles with myself, sometimes when I am riding the light rail to school and other times when I just sit here, typing.

The fight is constant, and I feel like the battles I wage with myself are more difficult than anything else that has been presented to me. And often times I wonder if I am still depressed, or if it is a figure of my imagination. I'm still trying to figure out what I really am, what my reality is, and if I can compete in this world with everyone else on the playing field.

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