This is my new hobby. I watch my life depart minute by minute. I anticipate the end of everything and anything—a conversation, a class, track practice, darkness—only to be left with more clock-watching to take its place. I’m continually waiting for something better that never comes. Maybe it would help if I knew what I wanted.
Oof. Of all the passages in SLOPPY FIRSTS, this is probably the one that most accurately sum-marizes my attitude about high school. I was deeply unhappy. I desperately tried to distract myself from what I can now recognize as undiagnosed depression by staying as busy as possi-ble: year round varsity athlete, drama club, choir, newspaper, Mock Trial, Key Club etc. etc. etc. At best, these activities inspired a genuine sense of accomplishment. But these proud moments were fleeting. More often than not, everything I did felt like a placeholder until my “real life” began in college. It took me a while to figure out that the joy should be in the work itself, not in the promise that any endeavor will ultimately lead to something better. Whatev-er “better” even means. No wonder my favorite part of my life of a writer is the actual writ-ing—even when it’s hard.
Megan and 19 other people liked this
