I have discovered the secret of Academia, and thus the secret of life. The secret is this:
You read a book, you are inspired. You begin to write, then you doubt. To take break is to read a book, and thus the cycle starts anew.
This is probably not the secret of Academia, nor life, but I have discovered that it is, at the very least, the pattern in which I live my life.
I spent Thanksgiving break with my nose glued to my computer screen and my head buried in my books, trying to get somewhere with my term papers. After writing 9 single spaced pages of one paper and double spacing it to find that it only amounted to about 15 double spaced, I was feeling enormously disheartened. I told myself I needed to focus, so I deactivated all of my social media accounts, turned my regular text conversations on “Do Not Disturb,” and let my only social interactions be with the inhabitants of Star Hollow during strictly regulated breaks. I hate the severity of my day to day schedule when it approaches the end of the semester, but the truth is, my work won’t get done otherwise and it certainly won’t be up to my own standards.
Yet even as the days until my deadlines dwindle, I’m finding that I might need to loose up a little. I’m stressed and anxious and paranoid that nothing will work out, but everything always does. I promised myself at the very beginning of all of this that I wouldn’t sacrifice my mental health to do this, and I’m finding as I creep towards the finish line that I’m compromising this very important point.
But at the end of the day, I don’t know how to not push myself too hard.
I want everything I do to be exceptional work. It’s impossible. And yet here we are.
By the next time I write, I will be finished with my classes and work for the semester and will be focusing solely on finishing up papers. I can’t believe it, and yet here we are.
I’m proud of myself for making it this far.
I can’t believe I’ve almost made it.