» post-graduate millenial crises
  • post-graduate millenial crises

    Jun 15th • Posted in personal, writing


    Something about writing at one in the morning comforts me, but doesn’t always sit right.

    Maybe it’s because when I used to write so late at night (or early in the morning?), I fall into this emotionally unsettling place where I force myself into nostalgia. I am at my loneliest and most vulnerable in the late evenings and early mornings– even when I’m sleeping next to someone else. These are the moments I spend facebook stalking ex-love interests, inevitably leading down the rabbit hole into failed friendships, which forces me to examine the trajectory my life has travelled, and the path ahead. I like to look back at my past because of all the failures, and try to anticipate what lies ahead, and how to avoid making the same mistakes.

    And despite how wonderful my life is now, I can’t always get over how fanastically I’ve fucked a lot of things up over the course of my life. I’ve burned a lot of bridges, and while I don’t regret those choices (because they’ve made the person I am today, blah blah blah,) I often wish I had more time to think things through, or at least try not to repeat the same errors.


    My cool 40something year old cousin calls me a masochist.


    I can’t help but agree with her at times. I’ve never been a fan of moderation, and I’m always feeling and doing things in excess. Talk to me about my Type 2 Diabetes, and I’ll instead, tell you how much I love sugar, desserts and alcohol (things that will eventually kill me.) Talk to me about school, and I’ll talk to you about how excited I am to adopt a dog that my lifestyle clearly is not cut out for at this time. Talk to me about love, and I’ll inevitably bring up one of the many failed relationships I was in, despite my clear and utter love for the man who I sleep next to every night.

     But I no longer wonder about the would have, could have, should have-s, and instead, I carefully scrutinise and analyse every move I made, and try to not make the same mistakes. Funny thing is, the more I try to keep things under control– the more out of wack they get. Maybe I should stop thinking so fucking much and just let it go.


    I’ve been thinking a lot about friendships lately. Mainly about how much I suck at them. Or if not suck at them, then I’m at least realising there’s been a major theme throughout my life in regards to friendships. Distance.

    With the exception of my boyfriend (who I live with) and a couple others, the majority of my friends are far away. I talk to my best friend less than once a week, and even when we do talk, our conversations are often disjointed. I love her to death, but it’s difficult to find a lot of common ground when your academic interests lie in completely separate fields. My interactions with faraway university friends are sparse and sporadic. Consistency is not a strong suit when it refers to my friendships. The closer I am to my friends, the further away they are.

    The reality depresses me.