ClawofCat (clawofcat) wrote,
ClawofCat
clawofcat

Graduation Angst

Wouldn't you know it? School and finals are over and all of a sudden I disappear. The last week I've either been at work until late, shopping for graduation dresses, packing the entire day, and/or out all day/night and enjoying my new freedom. A lot ofmy remaining stuff was packed last night and hauled away in my parents car. My dorm looks all naked and sad without my decour. As for my summer residence, for the short-term, I will be living in my grandmother's apartment, which is a relief. I'll have my own space, and although my parents are re-doing a lot of it, I'll still have some semblance of privacy. Having to move back to my doorless room at my parent's apartment seemed like a pretty oppressive option.  

When I went out to dinner last night with the folks, I asked my parents why they weren't excited about me graduating. I hadn't really received any congratulations or enthusiasm from them and it upset me a tad. My mom said that it was hard for them to be enthusiastic when I had shown very little enthusiasm about graduating myself. She asked me why this was the case and I told her that I felt like my time in college accomplished nothing. I go to an Ivy League and it feels like the four years were for nothing. I'm not closer to knowing what I want to do with myself. These last four years have seemed like a chore to the very end. It's hard for me to honestly say that I really enjoyed myself or that I feel particularly connected to the University. 

This conversation essentially opened a floodgate in which I sat in a restaurant publicly crying for an hour and a half. Since my grandmother's illness, I have generally felt ignored and abandoned by my mother. I'm an only child, and the last few months I have felt terribly lonely, like I was forgotten. At one particular juncture in the conversation, I was all out sobbing and could barely get the words that I wanted to say out. After some prompting from my mother, who clearly pitied me, I told her and my dad that they were all I have. I haven't always felt this way. My family and it's small size has never bothered me before. But recently it's played on my mind frequently. This change in attitude and my frightenly quick dissention into tears prompted my mom to tell me that I'm depressed. And, you know, I think I have been for a very, very long time. Years. I went into college burned out and exhausted from high school. I feel as though I'm coming out just the same. My mom asked me what went on in therapy when I was going and if my therapist helped me or suggested any coping skills for me to use when I started feeling bad. But she never did and she never suggested to me that I may be depressed. I'm the sort of person that needs structure, goals, and I flounder without them. My mom told me that my first goal will be to feel better about myself and my life and that we would find someone together to help me do that. That I shouldn't have to feel this way at my age, that it was no good for me. Maybe that will include a brief stint on medication to get me over this hurdle. I'm not really sure. All I do know is that I felt relieved. I just wanted her to notice and to help and to care about me. She was so consumed with grandma and now the apartment, that I feel like I fell through the cracks somewhere. 

Feeling bad is a strange thing because you forget that you feel bad. Once a rough period is over and things feel alright, your brain conveniently erases the shit that came before. My mom reminded me that I actually came home in February around the time my grandmother became really ill because I was miserable. I think I cried for the first three days I was home. I remember one particular night where I told my mom about something incredibly personal and frightening that had happened to me, something I was sort of ashamed of, and she just gathered me up and said, "Laur, baby, why didn't you tell us? You shouldn't have had to keep that in all this time." God, I was such a wreck. And seeing what happened last night, I think I still am. It just takes the right sort of prompting to bring it out. I want to feel better. And I shouldn't have to feel this way. At least that's something to work toward. 

On the upside, today I spent the day with my roommate and her friend. We went to go see the new superhero exhibit and Courbet exhibit at the The Met. I love The Met. It's such a gem of an art museum. It's just so so beautiful. After that we had an excellent lunch and headed over to the Guggenheim. I'm not wild about modern art, but that freaky car exhibit was totally worth the FREE student admission I had. That's going bye bye now that I'm graduating. 

Amanda and I then walked cross-town in Central Park and then from 81st street to 107th back home. It was rainy and overcast and so green! Central Park is also so breath-takingly beautiful, it filled my heart with joy to be walking amongst the trees and flowers, reservoir, joggers, dog-walkers. I usually don't walk so far north in the park, but we came across all these gorgeous little waterfalls and ponds. We even stumbled on a huge racoon on the path. We left at noon and didn't get back to our apartment until 8PM. Then, we made dinner and watched Seinfeld and Third Rock from the Sun eps on her computer. 

I generally feel exhausted. Tomorrow is graduation practice and then I have a dinner being thrown by the anthropology department for all its majors. That's pretty exciting, and my parents will be attending that. 

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