"I kept using the words 'lazy, bad, dumb' to describe whatever I was doing. And I would exalt everyone else's work."
Notes to Self are longer journal entries from Seven Yrs Ago. Read The Middle for more on depression in art/architecture school. I was 21 mid-2014.
So I lost my notebook for the 1st time today. And my purse with my phone. Well, fuck. Okay, guess we’ll start this thing with a downer post, but I can’t tell. Wait yes I can, I don’t know why I wrote that.
I’ve realized why I’ve been so down “for no reason” this week—I’m lonely. I feel alone. I haven’t slept as much as I could; I got distracted easily and I had poor time management. And the thing is, I understand why, and it may be a normal amount of loneliness. I shed a tear or 2 still.
It’s like… a part of me still hasn’t forgiven myself for leaving studio. Like I tell myself, repeat to myself the truth that I don’t miss the work, nor the stress; I don’t want to be an architect; and I left for career decisions and other real psych probs, you know, in therapy which I’m working out.
But then Blue Tape was today after a week of not seeing or hanging out with my friends as I would like to, and it was like this community. And then I invited people to come see it bc I thought it was so sick. Then Tanner and Buck (yeah that guy I was crushin hard on came) with their friends which was great, except when they asked me, like anyone decent would, “where’s my work?” and I patiently mentioned that I wasn’t in studio then I started talking. I knew what I was talking about but I realized today looking back that I kept using the words “lazy, bad, dumb” to describe whatever I was doing. And I would exalt everyone else’s work.
And I just feel stupid. And I know it’s stupid—that I am sad over something I purposely left and am definitely happy I left because I don’t miss making anything there.
I guess I just need a replacement. I need to make things. Like Rae said, “prove yourself.” Though I thought I graduated from my mentality, I guess reflecting back, I did. Now, however, I’m still waiting to do that on a practical level.
And even though people have been more than nice and still say hello to me, I have a paranoid thought that they think they’re better than me. I know I used to have those thoughts about 4-years. I even gave them my 315 notes; at the time, I was thinking about how I hated the universe that day and I knew it was the right thing to do. Part of me now wonders if it was some sort of peace offering to get them to like me again, when really FUCK I’ve felt no real indication that they have stopped.
So now I’ve realized that’s a ridiculous thought, jumped out of bed and taken a swig of water. I know I’ve been straight up isolating myself.
And that’s the biggest problem—I feel like I’m straddling 2 worlds in a way that no one else is. Like, fuck the other 4th years who like arch. but seem to still be indecisive on whether they should do it or not or just don’t care. Then the 5th years are too tired to really enjoy Blue Tape, but still have cred for doing the work and staying in the major.
Then there’s me, bouncing around like a blithering idiot really appreciating it and knowing how it works, so really respecting it and review at the same time. Which is why Buck’s jokes and laughter, pretty much harmless (magnifying glass on bldg etc.) bothered me and Ash’s inattention. But those were real harmless things; I was just overly touchy today. I’m tired dammit.
I just want someone in the same position of appreciating it, yet solidly choosing not to do it, so I don’t feel like an idiot for leaving something that I was good at, that I appreciated learning about and that had a community/family built into it.
Just have to remind myself that I’m in a way better place realistically then I was when I was in arch, so don’t fucking romanticize it and I will eventually get into something I’m good at and appreciate learning about, and I’m already starting dammit. And as for my family, without my choice to leave arch, it’s better than ever. Huzzah.
For commentary seven years later, go here.