hooray…change will come…question mark?

I have never claimed to be the best with people. I haven’t become someone great with people. I may never become such a person. Sometimes, you just have to try to be better and hope for the best or at least for something better. It’s terrifying to set out on becoming more social, but I’m sick of being in the background of even my own life. I’m not even doing a good job so far.

A series of events kind of led me to this point.

First: this is going to sound stupid and kind of sad, but I’d say it all started when I was watching Bojack Horseman for the first time. That show is insightful as hell, but one quote directed towards Bojack particularly stood out to me. Since I’m not revealing which character said this, I don’t consider it a spoiler because the first episode should make it obvious that someone was bound to tell Bojack this: “You are all the things that are wrong with you! It’s not the alcohol or the drugs or any of the shitty things that happened in your career or when you were a kid! It’s you!” I’ve discussed my deal of managing to blame everyone but myself for my own problems before, so I’m not going into that again. That specific quote just set me on the right path. And yes, a fucking cartoon anthropomorphic horse enlightened me.

Second: I realized I had no roommate for next year when it seemed like everyone I know knew exactly who they are going to room with. I’ve come to accept this, but initially, it just bummed me out. College has changed me, but I’m still a sad loner-ish kid who can count the number of friends I have with less than a hand. I was looking at it like, “People seem to like me but not love me or at least desire to room with me.” The thing is that it’s no one’s fault but mine. I was too damn quiet for people to get know me. Some people have gotten to know me, but I just can’t room with them for various reasons. If Bojack Horseman made me realize I should change, then this made me realize I have to change. I think my annoying, anxiety-driven talkative side that rarely comes out would be more liked than my reserved wallflower side that seems to dominate me. Shit, at least people here would have my wallflower side to compare to my more irritating side. Maybe I just have to figure out how to consistently trigger my talkative side?

Third: Having genuine friends and temporary friends and yet still feeling lonely. It’s not like anyone is making me feel lonely. I just am lonely. I’ve managed to knock down only one of my many walls since I’ve started college. I have some more to take down. The anti-Trump wall movement, if you will.

All of that will hopefully lead me to genuinely change for the better. I’m not entirely sure how it will go. As far as I can tell, it’s like shoving an injured pigeon out the nest and hoping it will fly. I’m not expecting to glide like an eagle. I just don’t want to keep clinging onto the nest for the rest of my life and die there without venturing outside of my comfort zone.

 

self-hate

Hate is the absence of love, so there has to be a reason for love to be removed. It rarely involves string theory to figure out why you hate someone or something. That’s why hate is simple. Sure, people throw around the word ‘hate’ the same way they do ‘love,’ but bonafide hate is not obscured. It is still clear and easy to recognize.

Even though I normally gauge my feelings with razor-sharp precision within seconds, it took me too long to realize I hate myself. Just a realization that hit me like a bolt of lightning late at night. Before that eureka moment, I hadn’t even been in denial about my self-hate. I just didn’t know it.

Self-hate has driven me to do the things I have done and haven’t done. It’s not parents, friends, acquaintances, people I try to impress-it’s only me. Why blame everyone but myself? I guess it’s believing that lives are solely affected by other lives. It’s the reason why people are social beings. Without others, we wouldn’t be us. But then you also have to take control of your life instead of letting other people shape your life. You can’t hope for fate to dictate your entire life. Every self-loathing fiber of my being has to be transformed not by others, but by me. My jaded self needs a new perspective not ruled by anxiety.

stuck in spartanburg(for now)

Almost a year ago, I was certain I would be attending Clemson University. I had already received provisional acceptance the summer before, but it didn’t seem real until that Tigertown-bound envelope came. My certainty about going to Clemson is why I only documented my acceptance at Clemson and not my Wofford and Converse acceptance letters.

Deciding on a college was ultimately a waste of my time. My parents forced me to go to Wofford College. Spartanburg is a college town with decent colleges, but I didn’t want to stay here. I still don’t want to be here for any longer than I have to be here.

Wofford certainly isn’t Clemson lite. It’s a small liberal arts college instead of a large research university.  A really small liberal arts college. I graduated high school with roughly 700 people. Wofford’s goal was to get 400 freshman to come there. They barely exceeded that number.

I’m still bitter about losing that coming of age moment of deciding where to go to college. It wasn’t a financially-motivated decision in any way. Wofford College was my parents’ way of making me stay in Spartanburg since Converse is too weird.

This blog post isn’t about my hate of Wofford because I don’t hate it. I don’t love it the way the majority of my peers seem to. You can be resentful and not let it cloud your view. As much as I like the people I’ve encountered and the classes I’ve had, I still have no definite answer to the question ‘Will I graduate from Wofford College?’ I’m not even sure if I will go to Clemson if I transfer. All I can say is it’s not as bad as I was expecting a college I did not choose to be.