'Hands up' by vapour trail, licenced under Creative Commons Attribution No Derivative Works 2.0Welcome to my first post of the new semester! I have missed blogging here, as well as receiving and responding to your comments...
Since our discussions on Monday, which I found very interesting, I have been thinking over this concept of adolescence. Several of you mentioned hormonal changes during this period which result in things like acne...well, I have been pondering my most recent acne outbreak, noting that my face these days is resembling nothing so much as a pizza...When I think of an adolescent, the adjectives that most readily come to my mind are self-centered, angst-ridden, insecure and depressed. But wait! I can certainly apply all those labels to myself even now...I suppose this has two possible implications: 1. either we never leave adolescence behind or 2. the whole concept of (Western) adolescence is indeed a myth, a stereotype. I will be curious to find out your take on this...
I had an unhappy childhood (after the age of 5 or so) and my teenage years were even worse, due particularly to my rural, narrow-minded high school, where I was consistently teased and bullied, and where anyone with a point of view that did not match that of the George Bushes of the world was made to suffer. And although I have been vindicated on many points by now, I am still bitter. That time planted the seeds of escape in my mind.
On to university...adjustment the first year was hard. We were exhausted all the time, sleeping at odd times of the day, sleeping in the library, drooling on biology books...I was working in my hometown at the weekends, staying with my abusive boyfriend, so I was caught between two worlds. I used to cry every Sunday night when I came back to campus. Well, I was seventeen, so young actually. I did not maximise my opportunities at university; instead, I stood outside looking in and thinking how phony it all was, wanting more but not knowing where to find it. There was no one to guide me. Although I was 'successful' in an academic sense, especially after my freshman year, it all felt meaningless, hollow...I used to have the frequent sensation that the bottom was dropping out of the world...I don't think I actually started 'enjoying' my time there until my senior year, and then of course it ended all too quickly and scarily. I can greatly sympathise with Benjamin in The graduate; I even remember trying to convince my father that I 'couldn't' graduate yet: I needed more French, I needed more literature...I was terrified at the prospect of the job market, wondering what I possibly had to offer anyone and instinctively despising corporate life. That's when I made my escape back to London, where I had studied for a semester during my senior year...this June I will have been living abroad continuously for 13 years.
I don't mean to be grim, but life doesn't really get any easier. You just develop better coping strategies perhaps, and you fall back more on the richness of your slowly accumulated experiences.
I am writing this now because I'm trying to write my way out of an unexpected depression that slammed down on me at the beginning of this week. I had been so looking forward to this semester, but I am already 'drowning' like Benjamin at the bottom of the pool (remember how his parents pushed his mask, pushed him under?) I know I am not alone in this. Those of you who are feeling anxious are also not alone. We will get through this semester (in style), and we will grow.
