There comes a time every semester when the momentum starts to die out. As the weather starts to change all you want to do is stay in bed rather than go to class. You’re too tired to do your hair and makeup every morning, your to-do list feels longer than ever, and every day you work harder than the day before. And for some reason, all of our professors selected the same day for their exams, essays, and projects to be completed. Rude.
If I’m being honest, I found midterms to be tough this year, not in the work itself but in bringing myself to do it. The pressure from my piles of reading and assignments feels more intense than it ever has, and while I’m still succeeding in class, it’s still a struggle. When I heard my alarm sound these last few weeks, I’ll admit that I wished for it to shut off so I could sleep through class, pretending like I didn’t have two papers and a presentation due in the next 72 hours.
As an English major, I (obviously) do quite a bit of writing. The act of writing itself feels very definitive. Daunting. I always feel like when I sit down to write a paper, I need to know exactly what I want to say and how I want to say it before starting. The trouble with this thought process is that you can never know what you are going to write about unless you already write it down somewhere else, becoming a vicious cycle of fear and insecurity over the one thing I’m supposed to be good at.
I look at these white screens and feel like I’m staring at my own inadequacies. By the time I actually bring myself to start writing, it’s out of necessity to meet the impending due date, adding the shame of my procrastination to my fear of failure. The best way to pull myself out of this mindset is to put words to the page. Throw mud at the wall. Let things suck, at least for a little while. The less I worry about how well I’m doing, the better I am at letting this slump shrug off me, feeling more comfortable, and more confident in my position as a student, and a writer.
But that’s easy to say, isn’t it? It isn’t so much pulling myself out of this slump as it is wrestling myself away from distractions that keep me trapped within it. My phone, YouTube rabbit holes, staring blankly into the abyss of my apartment ceiling as I let these thoughts and insecurities brew inside me. I know that closing my eyes from my reality doesn’t make it disappear, but it does feel good to pretend sometimes. To fade away into the infinite scroll rather than to face the truth of my academic anxieties.
In those moments, though, I remind myself that it feels even better to look at a full page of writing, to feel the swell in my chest while revising, to put a period at the end of a satisfying sentence. Instead of chasing freedom from it all, this is where I am: the thick of college life. This is the time when things get difficult and unglamorous. But it’s also when it becomes rewarding, too. Reminding myself of that keeps me opening up a document and typing away, even when I’d rather be doing anything else. It keeps me starting a timer and white noise machine, choosing to stay present and focused when my insecurity makes me want to disappear. Continuing to be a student, even one who struggles, reminds me that the semester will come to an end, but in the meantime there is still value to the work that I do, even if I sometimes fail to see it.