Sometimes I forget that I can work hard.
It’s been rough, honestly. I think I’m relapsing into my dysphoric symptoms again. The schoolwork and organization duties are piling up. I don’t like how I’m procrastinating right now, but no one will solve my predicament except for me.
On September 14th, U.S. District Judge F. Dennis Saylor IV temporarily blocked the rule from the Department of Homeland Security. This meant international students can proceed with their paperwork as usual for now, giving me a chance to breathe before making my final decision. I will have to either pursue Optional Practical Training (OPT) or request a new I-20 to extend my legal status. The worst-case scenario would be transferring to a university in the Spring. My family can afford it, but I don’t want to pay that out-of-state fee without at least trying to win a scholarship. I have two or three months left, so I must act quickly before time runs out.
I think some of my friends are already graduating from university. It has been like that since forever; I always achieve milestones months or years after somebody else already did. I’m happy for them, but I am moreso sad for myself. I know peer pressure can be unhealthy and people say you have to move at your own pace, but my own pace feels like a stop sign, a car crash, or a broken engine.
I just can’t concentrate on doing any work. I’m stuck between solving the problems of the present and anxiously contemplating the future, while my mind remains trapped in a trance of past agony. I’m such a messy person, huh?
Though, I do feel like I’m being too harsh on myself. Imagine choosing a path where you can’t see the way thanks to the distant fog, yet the path still reveals itself as you move. Instead, I feel like I’m trapped in a cave without a torch or a rope to pull me back. It feels like every path isn’t even there to try because it is already blocked. I can try, and I will, but it will be long and arduous because I only have my bare hands to dig my way out. I am lacking a way, and I’m not even provided an attempt.
I have to be more confident in myself. I can’t hate myself like this forever, even if that is easier said than done. Recently, my brain just gets exhausted before I even get a chance to put it to work.
I cried a lot these days again. I’m an emotional wreck, and I can’t wait to see how much worse it might become once I’m on HRT. Sometimes it feels like I only cry because it is the most efficient emotional outlet to release all my stress. I think I’m pretty good at self-coping.
Since I was young, I had learned to entertain myself. It made me an easy child, someone who wouldn’t give everyone around me a headache. I became so patient too. My parents were always very busy, so it would take them anywhere from 30 to 90 minutes to pick me up from school. I would imagine so many things in my head. It sounds almost like psychosis, but those thoughts played a big role in how I utilize my mental thinking today. They were often revitalized as drawings, dance moves, tunes, enactments, or some personal mantras I still use to this day. I don’t have to do that anymore, though; now it is mostly restricted to shower thoughts and bedtime pondering. I was good at doing everything by myself, and I took pride in that. But now, I just feel like a person who is worthless at teamwork and communication.
“Tomorrow’s always going to be a better day.” That’s what I used to say, not only to reassure myself but to motivate me that the process of suffering will end soon so I can be happy again. At least I tried, and I put in the effort.
I will never be enough if I keep comparing myself to others, but I feel like I will never succeed if I only move at my own pace. Wanderlust might take me somewhere better, and I still hold onto hope for the future. Tomorrow is the future, right? It could be rainy, sunny, or neither, but it will be better, even if it might temporarily feel worse.
“It’s what we don’t say
– Kelela ft. PinkPantheress, the bridge. 2026.
Your eyes, they look away
Now we goin’ round and round
Leavin’ me to figure out
With you, it’s a game.”
