Well, I officially completed my fourth semester of college yesterday as of 3pm, and I got home late last night. I wish I felt some big sense of accomplishment or something, but honestly I don't really feel anything. I feel like I got through it, that's all, and don't have much else to show for it.
This was my lightest semester course-wise so far, but it didn't feel like a breeze by any means...which worries me. What happens when I pick up a full load in the spring? Or next fall? How am I ever going to manage? Why can't I be like my roommate - who is getting a double major, volunteers in the city public schools, plays a varsity sport, and bakes (and eats!) cookies every week?
Looking back over the past few months, one thing that stands out to me is my anxiety. I've been a constant foot-jiggling, nail-biting, skittish, omgIcan'tdoanythingandtheskyisfalling ball of nerves. The littlest things set me off. Two points off on an exam? I'm failing. Twinge in my neck? I'm getting a migraine. Half a pound increase on the scale? Obese. Over the spring and summer, I was stuck in more of a weepy, hopeless depression; but lately, I haven't been sad or down so much as plain FREAKED OUT. About EVERYTHING.
Reading back over those last couple of paragraphs, I realize how lame and whiny they sound. I should revise a bit: I am proud of myself for getting back to school and making it through a tough semester. Even though the schoolwork wasn't necessarily that intense, the lifestyle changes and recovery challenges made everything harder. So I'm proud of myself for getting through all of that. I'm also proud of maintaining my weight, improving my eating from where it was a month or two ago, and participating in life despite feeling like a whale.
I'm proud of how I handled things with S and trusting my gut, even though it still makes me feel crappy. My instincts were screaming at me to just hide out, ignore his calls, and generally act like a complete wimp - so I'm proud of taking control and dealing with the situation in a grown-up, straightforward way.
Okay, I haven't totally talked myself out of this weird post-semester slump, but I'm getting there. Part of my uneasiness is just nerves about starting treatment again in a few weeks. I'm scared to gain weight. I feel stupid getting treatment for something as simple as eating. Who doesn't know how to eat? I got frustrated with my mom earlier today (yes, after being home for less than twelve hours) because she seems to think that getting to my goal weight will be some magical cure-all, when I know it isn't exactly that simple.
But I also know that everyone has their problems, and these are mine, and I need to get over this insecurity about feeling like I don't have a "real" illness. I'm not exactly sick, but I'm not healthy, either. I'm twenty-one years old - when am I going to have a better shot at getting what I want? Why am I settling for partial, half-assed recovery? I've only got one life, one family, one body, and I've been pretty lucky with everything so far.
How's that for a verbal vomit? I'm going to shake off these heavy thoughts and try to get myself in the Christmas spirit. So much shopping, so little time. Why is it that 75% of my school vacation falls after the holidays?
Hope everyone's doing well, take care!