I'm too young to be thinking like this, but here goes nothing.
The last two-plus years have been interesting to say the least. Seriously, they've been interesting. Freshman year here at Southern for the most part was exactly what I thought it would be. It was what I needed. A fresh start, some new friends and some new experiences that I would never have been able to have if I were to stay at home for school. I went into sophomore year with a lot of hype. Not necessarily hype, I don't think hype is a good word, expectations is a better word. I came into sophomore year with high hopes. Well, I was supposed to come in with high hopes. Then I had the week from hell that changed everything. Actually it was more like a 48 hour period from hell. It started with my car accident Friday afternoon after work. Then I got a letter in the mail from SIU saying that my fall registration was cancelled because someone *cough*father*cough* didn't hold up their end of the bargain and didn't tell anyone that he didn't hold up his end. Then the week after, one of my closest friends (who I had been mad at all week because they had stood me up for a breakfast date) had a near death experience. I spent most of the first few weeks of school worried about her, and stuck with classes I didn't want to be taking with crappy professors in a place where I didn't want to be. However the low point of first semester sophomore year isn't what everyone thinks. Close, but no cigar! The low point, ladies and gentleman, was the internet girlfriend fiasco. A good idea, actually who the hell am I crapping, a terrible idea that was supposed to "boost my confidence" totally backfired causing a nice little downward spiral of unhappiness and depression coupled with something some would like to call Lu being an alcoholic. It's probably the most embarassing thing that has ever happened to me, ever. Think about it, an internet girlfriend faking her death to break up with you. It makes you think about things. It makes you look at things in a different light. Well it makes ME think about things. It makes ME look at things in a different light. It's one of the reasons I am the way I am: bitter and cynical. And drinky, can't forget about drinky! Things didn't get much better as sophomore year rolled on. In fact they didn't change, they stayed the same. Even when given opportunities to change things I found a way not to pull through. I found a way to choke if you'd like to put it in that way. Oh and then there was this summer. To put it bluntly, if my summer was televised Bill Buckner would be telling himself "Damn, I thought I had it bad" and then he'd start laughing hysterically.
And then we get to this year. Another reason to be optimistic, another new start. Things were supposed to be different. Things were gonna get good, things were gonna be better. And really they haven't been. I find it difficult to string a week together where I'm completely happy. Friday, which is supposed to be my happy day, has been my day of depression for most of this semester. I feel unattached to anything, and really don't feel anything sometimes. For some it's easy to point out my problems and then fix them, because they're not me. And I know someone that will read this blog and tell me to stop complaining because all my problems are women related. My response to that, without going overboard, is that it's all mental. I don't want to get into that because that's not what this blog is about. This blog is about my lack of happiness. This blog is about how things have gotten progressively worse each year since I've been in Carbondale. I'm not meeting expectations, any one elses, let alone my own. I've been here almost three years and have not accomplished anything that I've wanted to personally or academically.
Maybe I am cursed. Maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm just not cut out for college. Maybe I'm not cut out for anything. The worst feeling I have beyond the loneliness, beyond the depression, beyond the thought/idea and not being loved is the emptiness that comes with not knowing why you're on this earth for.
And for the second consecutive year, I'm wishing for the old days. When we were all cool. When things were better. And when you think things can't get worse think the Bartman play, then the Gonzalez booted double play, and then think the ensuing eight run inning. Oh and then take game 7, add 98 years of failure and compress it into the mind of a fragile young mind and you have me at this point as I finish this blog @ 10:00 PM on Saturday November 11th, 2006.