I feel better now. After the unsettling hours, I went to work. On the way there, I let my tears slide down behind my sunglasses. I don\’t know why I felt so ill at ease. I don\’t know why I suddenly felt filled with despair. It was so unexplainable. On the way to Foothill, I wondered if this was the reason that I often said that i didn\’t understand myself. At all. I have trouble explaining what I feel. I could just say that I felt sad. But people always want to know why are you sad?
I can\’t say why. Because I feel alone? But they wouldn\’t understand. But Jenn you\’re surrounded by people. You\’re at Berkeley. You\’re going to a great graduate school. You are \”popular\” at work. That reminds me exactly of what cat said. That I don\’t appreciate my own successes enough. And even now, what she said still hurts. That she didn\’t see beyond my \”self-criticism\”. That I needed to express my own fears in order to feel whole.
It reminds me of that time. That time that I say over and over again. The time during recess when I was in the first grade. A boy started crying. The teacher came over and soothed him. A band-aid. Something to heal. Something that will directly help. But then I was crying. The teacher came over. I said that I didn\’t have any friends to play with. I felt alone. She couldn\’t do anything. No band-aid. Helpless. A problem that was not solvable.
Emotions are like that. There is no one way to fix it. I am troubled by my despair. After the appointment with the counselor, I crept back to my apartment. I wanted to lie down, soak away my emotions into deep sleep. Cry with real cries. But my roommate was there. I didn\’t want her to think that I was troubled again. So instead, I wept silently. Laid down in my bed, had a 30 minute nap. Woke up and went to work.
At work, I felt better. I lifted my sunglasses, but fortunately nobody questioned why my face was a bit pink. Why my eyes seemed so tired. I told them I had a headache. Peggy asked if I was sick. I shook my head. \”Just emotionally tired…sick,\” I said.
Becky the new CA made me laugh. So suddenly it was all better again. I played push-her-push-me with Peggy. Playful slaps. Talking about the boat dances. Talking about commencement. And then it was ok.
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Happiness consists in frequent repetition of pleasure. by texas hold’em