Happy Friday!
What? A post that isn't a monthly wrap or book related? It's a miracle! Maybe in the new year I'll hav more time to update this blog and actually do something with it. It's been sitting here collecting dust for most of 2022 and that makes me sad. I used to love to post on here, and I still do. I just have to find my blog rhythm again. I lost it somewhere between 2021 and 2022. Here's hoping 2023 is the year where I get it back.
I am back here today to celebrate a very special occasion: I finished college! That's right. Not just the 2022 Fall semester or the 2022 college year. Nope! I finished the entire thing. My college career. I finished my final exam yesterday on a cloudy, rainy day with a small cold that made me feel a little tired and fuzzy. I'm currently writing this post on that Thursday, a few hours after finishing that final exam. It's hard to find the right words. What do I say? Do I need to even say anything at all? I guess not, but words have always been important to me. Spelling out and sharing important moments in my life through words has always been one of my favorite ways to document and crystallize those moments. A way for me to be able to look back and always remember what I was thinking and feeling on that day or in that season.
So here I am, trying to find the right words. I guess I should start with, I started college because I didn't know what else to do with myself. I graduated from high school early at seventeen and I was going through a really rough time. My mental health was the worst it's ever been. I had just gone through a traumatic diagnosis that turned my world upside down. My mom saw that I needed direction, I needed something to focus on and keep my mind occupied, so she signed me up for classes at the local community college. Honestly, I think it was the best decision we could have made at the time. Taking classes did give me a sense of direction and something to focus on during a really hard time. There were times through the years where classes and planning for the next semester was all I had to plan for. It gave me a sense of purpose and something to structure my life around during a time when I wouldn't have been able to find structure on my own.
As I reflect back on the past almost eight years, I know my path isn't like everyone else's. Usually people start college at 18 and graduate between 20 and 22, especially if they're just getting an associates or bachelors degree. It took me from 17 to 24 to get my bachelors. I've spent almost a decade in college, taking two or three classes at a time, working my way through it slowly but surely. It all comes down to the fact that my anxiety and depression, fatigue and brain fog I had almost every day since I was sixteen carved out this path for me. 2022 is the first year in a very long time where I feel like I have some semblance of direction and am able to actually function without all of those things crippling me. I couldn't have done what other people my age were doing. My mental health would have suffered horribly if I had taken five or six classes a semester plus a potential part time job like other students do during their college years. There was no way I would have been able to move out and live in a dorm or graduate and get a full time job right off the bat. I'm thankful for parents that have supported me and let me take things slow. I wouldn't have been able to get through the past eight years without them letting me chart my own path and do what was best for my mental health.
Sometimes when I look back, I feel a little bitter. That it took me this long to graduate. That it took me this long to get to a point of healing that I finally can catch up with others my age. I'm still not perfect. No one ever is, but I'm leaps and bounds ahead of where I was even just at the beginning of the year. It just makes me a little sad and a little frustrated that I didn't get the help I needed sooner to heal my body and figure out about my anxiety and depression and brain fog.
But I made it. And I truly believe that God used every single year of college to grow me and stretch me and push me closer to Christ. He used every class I took, every crying session, every moment I got overwhelmed or frustrated with classwork, everything I learned for His glory in my life. I'm at once bitter and thankful for all that I went through because I know I wouldn't be the person I am today without all of it.
I'm thankful for the opportunity to even get to go to college. I know not everyone gets that chance. I'm thankful for the classes I took that taught me knew things about myself and the world around me. I was able to discover my passion for Native American cultures and histories, for folklore, ancient history, anthropology and archeaology. I learned what I did want to do and what I didn't. I learned what interested me and what didn't. It was a weeding out process. Trying things out and either deciding they weren't for me or that they were.
This sounds like such a bookwormy thing to say too, but I'm thankful for every cool class I took that introduced me to some super amazing books. If not for my Native American Religions class I wouldn't have gotten to read Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin R. Kimmerer. Hands down one of my favorite non-fiction books I've ever read. And if not for my Supernatural America class I wouldn't have gotten to read Monsters in America: Our Historical Obsession with the Hideous and the Haunting by W. Scott Poole. Hands down those were two of my favorite classes. I'm still not sure what it says about me that I'm obsessed with supernatural histories and folklore, but those two classes were some of my very favorite moments in my time in college.
And here I am now, at 24. Sitting here writing and thinking back on the past eight years. All the hard moments. The math and spanish classes I had to struggle through. The classes that ended up being horrible. The ones that were pleasant surprises and ones that made me excited to get up and do my homework every day. Despite the difficult times, I loved college. I love learning new things. If anything, that's what I realized the most about myself: that I love to learn. And I don't plan to stop.
I don't know what 2023 holds for me. It's a little scary to go into a year without having a plan. My 2023 isn't broken up into spring, summer and fall semesters anymore. I do know, though, that I don't want to stop learning. My goal for 2023 is to try and read a nonfiction book at least once a month. And I know that God is going to be walking with me through this new season. He's already gone before me. He knows what 2023 has for me. All the good and the bad and He's ready to hold my hand through it all.
Comments
Post a Comment