bridging the gap

Buffy: I thought it was gonna be like in the movies -- you know, inspirational music, a montage: me sharpening my pencil, me reading, writing, falling asleep on a big pile of books with my glasses all crooked, 'cause in my montage, I have glasses. But real life is slow, and it's starting to hurt my occipital lobe.

The past couple of weeks have seen me obsessively contemplating a return to University in the new year. I say obsessively because I have become consumed by the prospect. Previous attempts at higher education have not been particularly successful endeavours for me, and I am torn by my desire to start right away and my fear that I’m not quite ready.

I have always carried with me a highly romanticised idea of University. I think this, more than anything, even more than the problems I've encountered with mental health, is the reason I've not yet managed to complete an undergraduate degree. Because real life is slow and, well, real. Real life is more than just that series of stills I've carried around in my head in which I am balancing a coffee atop a pile of books, sitting wholly immersed in a big important text, participating in intellectual debate about the influences that brought about the Russian Revolution. No, real life demands you complete the required readings and attend the less inspiring lectures also. In real life, you work hard and curse the whole system and write into the earliest hours of the morning and give yourself a headache from the computer glare. In real life, things don't always feel like a sunny day at the park. 

I have been my own worst enemy when it comes to my education. I want so badly to be that person in my head, but I've been unwilling to do the work that comes with that reality. I’ve been waiting for some sort of shortcut or loophole, but the life I want doesn’t come that easily and in the past I haven’t proven to be up for the challenge.

Tom and I have been talking about me going back to Uni next year. I am paradoxically fuelled by excitement and paralysed by overwhelming waves of fear. I do not entirely trust myself to do what needs to be done. I haven’t in the past proven willing or able to make the journey in my impatience to reach the destination. 

But I think I’m ready, finally, to accept the work and the stress and the struggle that comes with my romanticised view of University. I want to work hard. I want to prove to myself that I'm capable of achieving my goals. I don't want to let fear get in my way any more.