"df demystifies" was TechNews's singular advice column, offering students the opportunity to access 13 years of undergraduate experience to help show you that no matter what you do failure is inevitable.
Downward acceleration has a way of increasing very quickly. You can continue fine, if a little shaky, for weeks, months, years even; but then with one stumble you’re hurtling into a mire of depression, anxiety, and general bad vibes. One second you’re looking down at your humble achievements with a small sense of pride and then the next it’s turned to nothing but ash and slag.
For me: it all started with the nightmares or more accurately this latest batch of nightmares. Then the exam which I shamelessly gave up on to go lay in a dark room. Now it seems as if though that was just a prelude to the real excitement: my insurance getting cancelled. My parents said they were taking care of it but turns out that was either a lie or something that just didn’t get done. Regardless, the medicine is running low and I don’t know when I’m going to see a psychiatrist again. Unfortunate.
The real question, though, is if the psychiatrist bills aren’t getting paid what of my tuition? I keep getting emails about a balance due on my account that I can’t bring myself to check because in this specific instance ignorance provides a measure of relief. Thinking of selling my textbooks soon just to have some cash in hand, maybe go out and have drink to try and clear my mind.
Every dream I’ve had these last few weeks ends the same way. It starts with a cough, a scratchiness in the throat, and a bitter taste. At that point, whatever I was doing dissolves away and I begin reaching into my throat to dislodge whatever is stuck in there. I keep reaching, and scraping, gagging all the while until I pull out a marble-sized clot of bright pink slime. I then continue scrapping, gagging, choking pulling out chunk after chunk of the goo all while my mouth fills with a bitter synthetic taste. Eventually, as I begin choking in earnest, feeling myself asphyxiate, I startle awake.
There’s something strangely comforting about watching things around you fall apart. Responsibilities erode away as you miss lectures, blow off homework, stop taking calls, and in that sense it’s freeing. Nevertheless I know this is going to be transient; eventually reality barges back in on you no matter how hard you attempt to insulate/isolate/hide yourself and when it does it’s going to excruciating.
Still, movement feels good even when it’s towards a brick wall. Finally a change, finally some reason to wake up in the morning just to watch as your life unravels. At this point: bring it on! Let life come at me and let’s see just how bad it can get. I relish the thought of being left with nothing, misery will become my fetish, I shall be glib and smug and filled with undeserved pride up until the end. I will continue to make poor choices and revel in it, I will continue to be a burden just because it’s easier, I will continue to exist just to be loathsome. It’s the only thing I’m still suitable for.
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