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It’s Rant Time

Usually, I’m a freaking ray of sunshine. Many people tell me so.

But tonight, I’m not.

I’d actually like the liberty to be an entitled, jerky asshole.

Here’s why.

For the umpteenth night within the last nine or so weeks of this one particular class I’ve been taking that makes me question even being in a program I otherwise absolutely love, this is one night, where I probably won’t even hand this assignment in.

I started on it early. I asked my professor a question so convoluted that she asked me to try explaining how I don’t understand all over again. It’s quite scary, because I think I’m a pretty good communicator. So instead I show her the problems I was trying to work out, she said I was wrong and gave me a general response in hopes of helping me arrive to the answer without giving it. So, ok. Fine.

After being dog tired for about three weeks and finally getting blood results back that conclude I had a high number of antibodies for Epstein Barr virus, which is basically like mono I felt some relief that my extreme fatigue and lack of desire to do anything but sleep in order to have enough energy for me to go to work, wasn’t just depression putting it’s nasty grip on me again.

I knew that generally aside from the class from hell, I was pleased with my life and how everything was going. I was wondering how I could be so tired and listless, knowing that i wasn’t sad sad. At least not that kind of sad. So finding out it was physical took a lot of pressure and guilt off myself and actually gave me an excuse to say “I’m going to concentrate on my health and if some things fall off the table, I’m not going to stress myself out.”

Which brings me to this assignment. I’m a good 40 minutes from the deadline to hand it in right now. I couldn’t bring myself to even go to class, to further take what feels like torture so I may have missed some steps to help me get through the process.

Either way, if nothing else, I see and feel very intimately what a lot of people feel when faced with adversity on top of adversity. There’s the idea of giving up and deep down not wanting to. Then the feeling like you should be better then feeling helpless because no matter how hard you try you can’t be. So then there is an acceptance and then there is a state of I don’t give a fuckery. Which is where I am.

I tried the assignment and no matter how much I tried to go back to the text, a piece is missing. Something is not connecting. So taking into account I’ve been having health issues and simply trying to hold it together, even this effort of trying feels like an accomplishment. I’m certain my professor thinks I’m an unmotivated asshole. And I don’t care anymore. The few times I’ve tried to ask her a question, I’ve just walked away feeling like I’m still on my own. I miss my homegirl who had to sit out this semester because we were a support system for each other.

I’m not a quitter. But right now, I’m getting comfortable with the idea of temporary failure for my sanity. My student advisor told me all wasn’t lost and if I tried really hard, maybe I could crank out a C in the class. There’s still a quiz and the final looming which accounts for about 30% of the grade. I had already calculated if I screwed up for the rest of the semester and pulled off an 80 on the final, I had a chance of getting that coveted C. There’s still hope.

But as of late, I don’t care.

At one point in time, I’d say I’d have to work harder and prove something to my professor that black people aren’t stupid or lazy and that I deserve to be in the program. But you know what? It’s not about her or being a credit to my race right now. I’m tired, I’m working on my health and she’s still going to get paid. Me failing a class isn’t going to help what’s going on in Ferguson right now. I won’t be a discredit to my people or prevent other black folk from getting into my grad school because I fucked up. I’m over feeling that kind of pressure. I want to be healthy, I want to get through these last two weeks.

It’s wild how I can feel like whatever is lower than crap, but feel like a superstar in another class. My professor calls on me often and my classmates are often impressed and entertained with my contributions to the class. Even when I’m not prepared, I have a natural ability to make it work. Doing well in that class gives me confidence, and I like that feeling. The other class, destroys my confidence. But that’s life. That’s part of the lesson. Sometimes not doing so well is part of the lesson. Sometimes saying screw this all today or this entire week and accepting the consequences is a part of life too. I’m prepared to do that.

I’ve been listening to gospel, while wishing I wasn’t on medication so I can drink.

I’m filled with contradictions. Tonight I feel about 5% saint and 95% ratchet sinner. There’s a part of me that hates I can’t complete the homework let alone hand it in and that I’m willing to see a big, fat zero. But I just can’t go any further with it.

So there it is. I’m messy tonight, yall. Messy.

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