Well, I graduated. That happened. And I got the only mild laughter of the whole ceremony, so that's something else.
Yeah. I gave the president of the university a high five. I feel vaguely accomplished just for that.
But now what?
I start my job in roughly two weeks. Until then, I'm just at home. And yeah, I'm enjoying a bottle of whiskey in the privacy of my newly reorganized room, complete with my degree on the wall. Well, let me restate that. With my degree frame on the wall. They had to reorder my degree because I graduated cum laude and they didn't manage to get that onto my degree. They had a month and a half to take care of their shit and didn't manage to. So it'll be another four to six weeks before I see my degree. You know how frustrating it is to pay so much money to graduate from an expensive private school, only to find a "we're sorry" letter in the tube that's supposed to have your degree in it? Yeah. So that's fun.
But paper degree or no paper degree, I'm a graduate of Baylor. And I'm supposed to be super psyched about that. And I'm supposed to be super excited about starting my job and getting my life started. But deep down inside, even though I got excited in the moment, as you can pretty obviously tell from the picture, it wore off pretty fast. I'm living with my parents again. At home, all alone, while nearly everyone I care about is off at school having a grand ol' college time. I want that back. I don't do well with change, especially when there's no one around to help me through it. It's like freshman year all over again.
But I dealt with it then, and I'll deal with it now. Life goes on. On a side note, am I more honest when I write these drunk? Because I am. I think this is the second time in my life I've gotten drunk all by myself, and I feel particularly reflective, so here I am. The first time was during my grand road trip that I haven't mentioned yet, so I guess I'll go into that.
During the last week of July and the first week of August, I took a road trip with one of my best friends around the west half of the country. We hit up the grand canyon, San Francisco, Seattle, Yellowstone, and most of Colorado, to sum it up nicely. Realistically, it was so much more than that, but those were the main destinations, and it was fun as hell. I've learned my lesson about sharing too much on this blog, but I'll leave it at we had a lot of fun. Anyway, one night in San Francisco my friend met up with one of his old friends and I had a night to myself, so I went out drinking on my own for the first time.
Tonight is the second, and I'm in my old room at home. The worst part isn't even what you're thinking, because I quit smoking when I moved home 4 days ago, and it's eating at me, especially when I drink. And not weed, but good old cigarettes. And that's so much harder than weed. Stopping smoking weed was a cake walk. It's not addictive, it's just a choice. Cigarettes are different. They get in your head. They put that little voice in your head that says, "oh come on, its just one more pack. You can just smoke it when you drink. I know you want one, and what's the harm. Just go buy a pack, for old time's sake. Just one. DO IT."
I have nicotine gum to help me through it. I don't want to get on e cigs or anything, because I know I'll be hooked on those instead. My mom has been chewing nicorette since she quit smoking 30 years ago, but I've never been much of a gum chewer, so it should be different. I hope. But anyway, I'm determined to quit because I've been saying for a year that I'd quit when I was done with college, and I'll be damned if I'm going to lie to myself like that.
But yeah, that's the hardest part about life right now. I guess. Really, I think the hardest part to deal with is something completely intangible. It's knowing how unexcited I am about it all. About finishing college in three years with two majors and graduating cum laude with a 3.75 and extremely time consuming extracurriculars. About starting a new job at a pretty decent salary. About life. I'm just not excited, even though I should be. I should be excited about all the good stuff happening in my life. But when I'm not in the moment - when I'm not high fiving Ken Starr or opening graduation presents or whatever, I'm just not that into it. It's whatever.
So I graduated. Everyone expected me to, so what's the big deal. So I graduated with honors. That's cool I guess, but it's not like I tried to. You know what I did in college. I screwed around and partied and smoked too many drugs and watched too much Netflix. I don't deserve any of it. But it happened, so yay me I guess. And the average person would be super excited to finish college like I did. But I'm just not.
So, if you know a phycologist in the area that can help me with my clinical depression, I'm up for suggestions. Because I'm pretty sure that's what it is. The councilor at Baylor thought that's what it is, and I'm leaning toward agreeing with her. I am depressed. I've come to accept the fact, and I need help. Probably medical help. Because life isn't exciting on any level. I glide through it. I do well at it. I'm pretty damn good at it, and I just don't care.
Sorry for the depressing post... I guess that's what you get when I write posts alone and drunk in my childhood bedroom. BUT ANYWAY. Seeing as I have little else to do, I may even go back to writing on a regular basis again. It's not like I have anyone to rant to anymore. Or talk to at all. I haven't seen anyone my age in a week, and reality is setting in that this is kinda how it's gonna be for the next several months. All alone, driving a minimum half hour to see friends on the weekends if I'm lucky.
I'm not even sure anyone reads this anymore, and I'm not sure I even care about that. It's just good to type it all out every once in awhile. Night everyone.