USC College days. 7:45 AM.
I wake up to the sound of the alarm on my phone, after getting only less than three hours of sleep since I spent the night working on my group's plant design project.
I wash face, brush my teeth, sniff my uniform (Yes, that was a thing back then. Don't judge.) and head on to my first class at 8:00 AM -- ChE Ethics and Laws. No shower. No breakfast. Not even a mug of coffee. Just ran on pure adrenaline that one morning.. or every morning for that matter. Not stopping for the sunlight. Not stopping for the trees.
Good thing my dormitory was only within the school campus. Although it was at the other end of the campus where the building of my first class was located, there is at least less scrutiny and judgement from the school guards and passing students on petty things like my appearance or uum... skirt length. The extra pounds I gained at that time made my A-line look like a miniskirt so if the situation was otherwise, I'd have my ID confiscated and sent back to scout for uniform skirts Catholic nuns would approve of.
Now, all that was left to deal with was my classmates' and professor's judging looks on the ruckus I made along the way to reach the class on time. I arrive at 8:03 AM. Three minutes late and my entrance couldn't be anymore noticeable since I sat at the front row 馃う鈥嶁檧.
There are times when I would be thankful of days when my professor was feeling extra patient, and times I felt like balancing on a thin wire for days that are the opposite.
Of course, I have already forgiven my younger self for making most of her life about school, passing classes, dunking difficult teachers and getting good grades. At college, it was even becoming more crucial since I wanted to graduate on time.
Why was I in a rush to graduate anyway? Oh I don't know... because an extended semester would mean another 50K of expenses. Since I'm not necessarily a resident of Cebu, every air that I breathe and every rice meal, siomai, silog, and pancit canton that I eat, and every coffee shop study outing and group project that involves money is an outflow. My college education was probably my family's number one major outflow for the six years I spent in Cebu. Being the lovely, responsible eldest sibling that I am, I didn't want to keep the faucet running longer than it should.
Like any other coffee-driven, non-Cebu, middle class college student, we were running on anxiety. Our main motivation was to pass everything on time, all while making sure we pass what we need to pass.
We were running, all the time: running to chase the deadlines, running to escape the fear of failure, running to be able to be worthy of rest (as if we couldn't do it right then and there).
The reason why I brought this up is because I still see the same patterns of fear and anxiety even as I am writing this blog post.
I still am running: Running to get things done at work, running to be ahead and running to "warrant" some time off and do the things I actually want to do. I guess there were times I felt like I wasn't good enough to rest, and I still do.
The absurdity of what I was doing finally sunk in, that it wasn't really me but a trauma response, and I realized it when all the preparations I made at work for my original loading had to be destroyed because I had to fill in a completely new subjects which did not have a teacher since the start of class.
For a while, I was in chaos. And yes, it's one of the reasons why I was out of Hive for a while. Who wouldn't when all efforts had to go to waste? Not to mention that I had to take some time to adjust to the new loading completely: Seven subjects and four of them are research subjects. It wasn't anyone's fault but I wish I didn't go as fast as I was going in the first place.
For a while, with the lack of rest I was experiencing, my baser instincts resurfaced as I made desperate attempts of regaining control.
I felt betrayed, overworked, angry, and yet I felt that I had no one to blame but myself. "What was I even here for in the first place if I can't even give my best and give enough time to make preparations for it? Why is it that every attempt I make of trying to love my job and be good at it, I get shot down by things like these? Why is it that instead of getting rest after a long day's work, I am given more work instead compared to my co-workers?"
I asked these painful questions aloud in my heart that eventually it turned into a prayer. It happened on a Wednesday night right after an exhausting virtual faculty meeting: "Why did You bring me here? If You didn't want me to give my all in this assignment the way I have always done for most things everyone asked me to do all my life, then why am I even here? Am I here to be a teacher or am I here because You want to teach me something I keep failing at? I am so tired of being frustrated and trying to play guess-the-lesson, Lord. What is the lesson?"
I woke up the morning after that with a heavy lump on my chest barely even wanting to get out of bed, but I had to. I know that if I stayed in bed for the whole day, depression will just eat me alive. It was a workday and also the first day to adjust to the new load I was given and prepare for the modules for the next day which was a distribution day.
When I reached school and started making errands around campus looking for modules, for the first time in a long time, I noticed how lovely the day was. The sun was shining, the trees were dancing, and the wind felt nice on my cheek. A thought entered my head "Walk. Don't run", and instead of pacing or half-running like how I normally do, I just walked slowly.
It was a new kind of slow. Surreal. I wanted to be under the sunshine longer, I wanted to look at the trees and the falling leaves longer. It's ironic how the day I am supposed to be up my feet and using all my adrenaline to be on the move the most, is the day I just got tired of all the shit inflicted on me 馃槀 and just went "You know what, take the wheel for me Lord" 馃檶.
It was the first step relearning how to walk, instead of run. The tendency to fly and escape is still there at the back of my head.. and like any other personal demon I haven't fully dealt with. It shows up when I am untethered, lacking rest or when I have been relying on my own strength too much for far too long.
I guess you could say I still have so much to learn, but I'm glad my prayers were answered in a way that my one way brain desperately wanted it.
"Search me O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous say in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!" Psalm 139:23-24 ESVRoxanne Marie is the twenty-year-old something who calls herself the Protean Creator.
She is a chemical engineer by profession, pole-dancer and blogger by passion and frustration, and lastly, a life enthusiast. She is on a mission to rediscover her truth through the messy iterative process of learning, relearning and unlearning. Currently, she works as a science and research instructor in her hometown, Tagbilaran City, all the while documenting her misadventures, reflections and shenanigans as a working-class millennial here on Hive.
If you like her content, don't forget to upvote and leave a comment to show some love. It would be an honor to have this post reblogged as well. Also, don't forget to follow her to be updated with her latest posts.
