I feel a little bit like sharing, sharing more than I normally do. I would just like to say I really, really dislike Sunday nights and evenings. Mondays aren’t great, but Sunday nights are worse. They’re just difficult, inasmuch as anything in my spoiled/fortunate life is difficult. I guess it’s because my weekends are so wonderful. I spend a beautiful, blissful day or two with Erik, and lately also with my family and with Jackie. My weekend time involves great love and affection, usually a good deal of food, and hardly any work at all. But on Sunday nights I have to let go of this incredible relaxed happiness and wrench myself back into the school week. You’d think it would get better, but no, it just gets more painful every time. If I’m coming from home, I leave my family (including pets!): their sense of humor, their support, and most recently, the new joy of watching Al grow up (it’s shocking how fast this happens in middle school). I also leave the somewhat more superficial pleasures of our super comfy carpet and spacious bathrooms. I realize anew each time I go home just how much I love and appreciate my family, and how horribly sad I would be if I had to leave the Bay Area for grad school (chances are slim that I’ll get to stay here, I know). But leaving my family, however disheartening, cannot compare to having to separate from Erik. It’s worst when he has been here all weekend. The loneliness of suddenly finding myself once again in my apartment without him is just overwhelming. Our time together is so perfect, and that doesn’t have to be in a conventionally “romantic” way. Whether we’re creating an adventure for ourselves by impulsively driving up to Davis to see Shra, or just sitting around and talking about our lives (life), even when we’re cleaning up the kitchen together after dinner… to find this kind of companionship with anyone, even a pet, would be a treasure. That we could find it in our life partners… but this just makes it harder when we have to separate, and every Sunday night I find myself in this miserable position again. Today, at least, I’ve gotten some work done and that has helped, but you see I’ve had to stay up till two to get to this point. I’m getting awfully personal here and that makes me a little uncomfortable, but what the heck, this is all stuff anyone who knows me could guess anyway. What’s the use of a journal if I can’t really say what I want in it.
So every Sunday night, I start thinking about grad school, and the possibility of having to leave Erik and my family and everything I love about this area, and I just get so scared and sad. I know there are benefits to leaving. You don’t have to tell me. But in the end, no one can decide what’s best for me except myself–at this age I ought to at least be able to claim that right. I also realize I shouldn’t even bother torturing myself about where to go to grad school until I actually get accepted to some places (and who even knows that that’s going to happen), but it’s hard not to look into the future and panic. So I start thinking about what I really value, and what would really make me happiest, and whether it’s even possible to know that now. The part that scares me the most is that my Sunday night anguish doesn’t get any better as time goes on, it only gets worse. I feel like it’s got to be more than just a superficial problem if it doesn’t just blow over in a few weeks, and it certainly hasn’t.
So this is what happens to me every Sunday. Often it carries over to Monday night too. Usually by Friday, I’m feeling a lot better and the sadness dissipates, but that’s also because I know there’s another weekend and more Erik and maybe more family just around the corner. Then on Sunday I start again.
I don’t know what else I want to say here. Please don’t comment to tell me anything even remotely similar to “it’s okay to leave Erik” or “you’re brave enough to tackle hard things.” I’ve heard it all already, really I have, and while it may be true for you, it is not comforting and may not be true for me. Probably there are people who will read this and find me pathetically dependent. I don’t care. I know my own strength, and I’m only interested in the opinions of people who respect that I am this way and who won’t try to talk to me based on their own views of what’s right and what’s important.
Hmm, that’s interesting. I didn’t quite realize I had this much buried animosity toward these “people”. I guess I do get a bit defensive when people try to tell me to just forget Erik as a factor when I’m thinking about grad school. They’re justified and probably right, but since I already know what they’re trying to tell me, they don’t help. I guess if you’re one of these people, I know I get defensive and I’m sorry, but as Prof Brentano said, we can never know what’s inside someone else’s head, and you don’t know exactly how I feel.
See, this is why it’s so useful to have a journal. Not only do I feel a lot better, but I also figured out how angry I am at other people for thinking they know what’s best for me. Now I can go back to being nice and nonviolent. 🙂 Thank you for reading, and for supporting me as I know you all do. Just… keep this semi-turned-into-a-rant in mind next time you’re talking to me about grad schools, okay, please? Because if all you’re going to tell me is what I’ve just complained about, I’ve already heard it all. And I’m not thinking of specific people, so I hope no one’s offended.
Whew. Time to go to bed. I hope I’m not too sleepy tomorrow now. 😐
Thought: Was all this the equivalent of shouting out at the world, “You think I’m crazy! I’m not crazy!”?
[This post was imported on 4/10/14 from my old blog at satsumabug.livejournal.com.]