Will I Even Be Good At Adulting?

 

Disclaimer: Read this, imagining that one scene in a coming-of-age movie where the character is overwhelmed and feeling all of these emotions at once trying to pull herself together. Trying to finally accept everything she’s been feeling since days and breaks down while writing this life altering essay/blog or whatever and posts it impulsively. All the while there’s a song playing in the background that quite literally feels like the last scene of “The Breakfast Club.” 

I have the references of a forty year old woman.

Sigh. Anyways, let’s get to the point, I’m scared. Like, really scared; like, crazy scared; like, it’s all I’ve been feeling ever since I appeared for that last board exam. The anticipation for my results and the life I’ll have after moving out, it scared me. Honestly, I’d suppressed all of these feelings and lost myself in this cycle of a horrible sleep schedule, hoping to feel anything but fear; resorting to watching all of these comfort shows and movies to do away of that fear. As time progressed, though, the excitement to be able to study subjects that interest me, meeting new people, increased; but left me with this lingering feeling of homesickness even if I were still here.

Having a parent that is a storyteller, whereas another is a realist did not help either. The poetic feeling of leaving your home and spreading your wings into this mostly beautiful world that the storyteller had romanticized were often crushed by the reality of the world the realist knew of. You look forward to everything, good and bad, but you’re also left with loaded questions like, “Will I be okay? Will I be able to take care of myself? Will I even make friends? What if I’m unable to make friends and I have noone to talk to for four long years? Will I forget how to study?” You best believe I'm looking for studying methods already. YouTube search history that would’ve usually been laced with xyz’s interviews or yadayada’s recipe were now filled with a bunch of “how to’s.” I was losing sleep over something that wasn’t even a reality yet. Adulting might be ready for me, but, god was I not.

It’s funny how I began this blog with bullying and acceptance being my only fears at a new place. Now, all I wanted was to be able to feed myself, and not fall into some ditch; being accepted was the least of my concerns. I should give people a little more credit, though, I’ve come across kinder people than the usual condescending bullies over time. 

You know, I have this habit of living in a dream world. Sometimes it’s a survival movie where all the worst case scenarios possible arise, thanks to my overthinking abilities. Sometimes it’s this young adult book, where everything is perfect, but, even a minor inconvenience is an opportunity for character development and life changing monologues which is, kind of, true in real life. The difference, is that, the answers aren’t as instantly available as they are to the characters. We have to make mistakes, make wrong choices, maybe fall into a ditch or two to finally learn and maybe someway or the other land somewhere we were always meant to be.

I see all these people having their life together, having the perfect face, the perfect friends, the perfect schedule and I envy them for their grit. It takes a lot to get up every morning and be like let me just be put together as hell. Because sometimes, all I feel like doing, is crying.... and sleeping.... and eating. But, then there are these microscopic moments of maturity which make me realize that maybe their lives aren’t as perfect. The life they show on-camera is in their control, but the one off-camera has its own course. Oh and of course, they’re human who doesn’t puke or get explosive diarrhea or have a serious case of word vomit. They are probably as imperfect as every other person on this planet, fretting over how good their life is, was pointless.

Ever since this whole college discourse started one question of mine remains constant, “Will I be able to do this?” And dad always says yes somehow. I find his belief in me hilarious at times, but, maybe he’s right after all? I may not know what I’m getting into, for now but I’ll probably survive like everyone else and if not… well, let’s just not think too much about that and jinx it. At the end of the day, college is just unsupervised school where you don't have to wear a uniform, right? Let’s just say, all I’m trying to do here is, attempt at being that annoying indie movie teenager who has useless metaphors for everything and wait for my breakfast club moment.

until another hundred years! ;)