It's Okay to Start Over

Had the most wonderful morning yesterday. I got to let some kids feel their first fish and teach them a bit of ecology.

I am tired of my phone. Truthfully I am tired of my social media. I am tired of the lack of privacy. I feel like younger me wouldn't have cared very much. I feel like younger me wanted to be seen and validated. I almost liked that my work and my thoughts were always out there for the public to see and validate; more specifically I liked that my posts would please the algorithm, which would show others my posts.

Anyways a decade later and now I see how rough that was. I should not have needed the validation of internet strangers. I feel as though this was a "bait and switch." Be validated by others, good right? Well now you'll also get to see ads. Ads ads ads. Everywhere.

And these ads don't care what you think or feel, they're only designed to keep you looking. There are few hooks as strong as fear (and anger). I felt as if the burden of the world was always on my shoulders. on me, a young, broke person hundreds if not thousands of miles away.

This isn't to say keeping informed is bad either, I highly recommend following your local news and maybe a newsletter to a larger nation wide publication.

I plan to keep tumblr. I enjoy writing on it. I enjoy the community. I may switch to my own personal website, but that wont be for a while.

Get off major websites, go unknown. Make a banger website to share with your friends.

I am sitting here in my new university library. I am a little anxious. My partner wanted to drop me off today, and so they dropped me off before work, even though my class doesnt start for a long while... haha. I am reading through my syllabus and taking notes. I am writing on my blogs... I brought my bike and that's pretty cool.

This post might be too long for a lot of people. That's okay. This post isn't for everyone. This post is for me, and all the other mes out there.

I messed up. I wanted things to be perfect. I could see my life playing out exactly. I would go to school, study environmental science, and I would go on to get a research position in a governmental agency.

If only I knew.

I finished school, against my own will (I ran out of financial aid), and I had to scramble to find a job. I did; as a government official. It wasn't research, but I had hopes of one day becoming part of the research team. I was very proud of myself and my accomplishments.

The only problem was that I hated my job. I tried so, so hard to make things work. I found myself hunched over on the toilet more days than not, panicking, anxious, afraid of my schedule. I cannot, for the sake of my privacy say what it was I did exactly, but I can say that I was bad at it. Despite my best efforts, I was constantly being reprimanded for my anxieties and lack of social graces (I am on the spectrum, as well as suffer CPTSD from my experiences with conversion therapy).

I felt trapped. I live with my partner (the most amazing person to walk this planet), and we make ends meet on our own. It hasn't been easy. My parents don't support my transition, and their parents live 10 hours away.

I was fired this past November. I had to look my team lead in the eyes, knowing I tried so hard and failed. I was angry. I had confided my trust in her, and told her I was transgender, and really, really struggling. It didn't matter. But below those strong emotions, the feeling of relief slowly and quietly washed over me.

While I still had my benefits, I spoke to a therapist about my issues, and she reminded me that I had to be kind to myself. My job left me in a constant fight or flight state, and I had been for the past 9 months. While I wish I had been given more time with this therapist, the time I did have with her led me to look into my complex ptsd more intently. As an aside, I HIGHLY recommend the book Complex PTSD by Pete Walker.

Today, I am three months fired, and I am starting a new part time position as a medical scribe. I am excited, and most importantly, happy. I will be returning to university in the fall, and I will be studying electrical engineering, like I had always dreamed of; before I was told that I could never become an engineer.

I was really worried for a while about calculus 2. I tried really hard, and I am so glad I was able to just get through it. I worked very hard, and I passed with a C. I was put in the gifted and talented program as a kid, and honestly, I was worried I wouldn't make it. I didn't think I was going to pass, and I was so worried I was going to be a failure. All the way until the last minute, I thought I was going to fail. I cried. i broke down. I cried again. And you know what? I let myself feel it. and afterwards? It still hurt, but I was okay. I was able to move on. I'm okay with it. I worked hard with all the circumstances stacked against me. I worked hard. The reason I didn't have many artistic or flashy photos or journal articles this semester was because I was horribly depressed, stressed, down and defeated. I didnt shower for weeks on end. I woke up, worked, slept. The cycle went on for days on end.

So I've learned a few things. I learned that I am NEVER taking 18 hours again. I have ADHD and I don't like meds. 18 hours is just not going to happen, realistically. I also learned that it's okay to get a C. I am not my grades, and I am not a failure. I am actually pretty cool, and I learned I really enjoy crocheting. I learned that I enjoy working out and I love my friends.

And on a more positive note, all my other classes were As! I was also taking a senior science course, linear algebra, and a few other courses. I am very proud. I am going to celebrate with a new fountain pen, I think. I have always wanted a fountain pen.

I am actually beyond grateful for this opportunity to continue with my education, and I am beyond grateful that I'm able to enjoy my summer vacation (at least, the first half of summer).