I feel like I used to be better at things other than procrastinating and playing video games. I feel like I used to do more, have more friends, was just a better person in general. It's not necessarily that I miss a version of myself that I used to be, except maybe that one year where I actually had an idea of who I was and where I was going.
That was a pretty good year; it was the first half of 2011, and I was still in college at Keene State. I enjoyed my classes, I liked the people I worked with and went to classes with, I was in a happy relationship, and in general I felt like I actually belonged. That I was someone who had direction and mattered. However, I was still far from a perfect student, and while I didn't fail any classes, I was getting a couple more C's than my parents would have liked. I made a deal with my dad: I don't remember the specific details, but I think it went something like, if I don't get my GPA up past a certain point, I had to leave Keene and go somewhere cheaper. Not exactly an unreasonable request, but one that I still think I should have pushed back on.
I didn't meet the criteria, and had to move back home, and wound up attending UMass Lowell. I hated that school. Everything about my life at that point felt like such a huge downgrade. I was living with my parents again, I had no friends again, the theatre program was worse, it was almost a three hour trip to see my girlfriend. Everything sucked. It was like everything I had going for me was replaced with a shittier version of itself. Looking back, it's really no surprise that this was more than enough to push my already somewhat depressed self into full-on depression. I wish I had gotten that clinically diagnosed sooner than I did. Maybe I could have actually done more with the opportunities I still had, or just been a better person.
It's strange to think how long ago 2011 is at this point. It's taken far too long, but I'm trying to work to change myself for the better. I think getting back into writing, even if it at times feels pointless, is a good step forward. I didn't intend for this first post to be such a pity party, but one thing I've learned in these seven years is that I don't vent nearly enough, so fuck it. I'm trying to temper my expectations as well; the last time I blogged, I wrote it just as much for someone to read as I did for myself. This time though, I'm trying not to worry about that.
Though it will obviously be appreciated if someone actually does. So, yeah.
