One cute and fun thing about me is that when my anxiety flares up, it turns me into a disgruntled and embittered woman who firmly believes she does not care about anything at all. I spent eight of the last twelve months sincerely convinced that I didn't have any hobbies or interests. I rolled my eyes at the meet and greets at the start of the hellishly virtual school year. I resisted forming any real friendships because I was certain that I didn't even want to be there in the first place.
I don't think that I'm a delusional person, so I am choosing to believe that the grumpy and jaded person I just described is not actually who I am, at least not normally. I don't think I was that way this summer at all, with my reading and befriending strangers and going dancing. However, having now been around the proverbial block, I also know that I can very easily become that person, given particular circumstances. And, tragically, I am barreling headfirst into those exact circumstances once more, all because it is mid-August and two years ago I thought it would be a fun idea to do even more school after graduating college.
So, here I am, already worked up over the mere threat of my mental health being compromised again just like it was this time last year. I tell myself that things are different, which, in fairness, they really are. I tell myself that now that I know this anxiety stuff might be an issue, I can handle it better. Sure. I'm sure these things are true. But I'm also sure that I'm about to be a whole lot of busy after a long, delicious hiatus of very few obligations at all.
So, what am I doing this for anyway, if it's so scary? I tend to forget. The most probable answer is that I want to do work that helps people, that protects them, that makes lives better. That I believe in collectivity and human connection and in the capacity of urban planning and design to advance those things thoughtfully, despite our decades-long track record of wrecking a lot of good things. I'm no utopian, but I'm a desperate optimist.
Really, the anticipation of all of this (orientation doesn't start for another two days) is getting difficult because I have no idea how to prepare. It's been over a year since I've set foot on any kind of campus, let alone gone to work or study in a place other than my own apartment. I don't know how people dress in grad school. I don't know how to pack a lunch anymore, or even if I need to pack a lunch at all. I don't know if I will be able to study again! I don't know if I will get sick of this just like the last time I tried to start grad school and, well, hated it. And, to follow this thread to its end, I don't know what I would do if it turns out that this really isn't for me, despite my best efforts.
So, this week, think good thoughts for the lady who used to love making schedules but is now doing breathing exercises every time she adds to her Google Calendar. Hope, for her sake, that things progress gently and that the end goals that got her into this mess stay somewhat visible despite the tumult.
I'm sure that everything will be fine. It always is, mostly. And, if it isn't, I'll be coming right back here to overthink at you even more.
Kisses!
- Helen
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