I’m finally at the end of my fall semester, and I have one semester left before I graduate. And I just wonder if I’m going to have a career afterwards.
I don’t know why I’m so worried about careers. I’m gonna graduate with an Oberlin degree, I’ll probably have a job. I wonder if I’m gonna end up staying at home.
There are activists here who, in the fight against “gentrification,” tell other students to live with their parents after they graduate. Even though that is both directed at me and not directed at me, it scares me. I could never live with my dad again. It’s not like people would know that, but then again, it makes me wonder what my future would look like if I don’t end up with enough money to live on my own.
I wonder if I’ll live on my own for the rest of my life. Before, I figured that the way I would live my life would put me in a position to be alone for the rest of my life. I say alone as opposed to lonely; I will be very satisfied with my life, it’s just that I probably wouldn’t have a steady companion. And maybe that would be OK. People can be difficult sometimes.
I don’t get why people can be so difficult. I don’t know why I can be difficult sometimes. But I guess that’s one of the questions of the human existence, right? Why do people suck?
A lot of people have sucked in my life. A lot of people have been great as well, but a lot of people have sucked. And I’ve had to overcome that suckage. But at the same time, I just feel like I internalized the suckage that was put on me, and I just put it out on others. I guess that’s what therapy is for. Oh well.
I like therapy. My dad doesn’t believe in it, at least, I think he still doesn’t believe in it. He felt that any mental/emotional problem I had was a spiritual issue, and that I should have been able to talk to him about it in order to fix it. What was bad was that he was the problem.
I wondered a lot about what my life would have been like if I was adopted. When I came out and thought I was gonna get kicked out of my house, I fantasized about living with some other family, probably some wealthy older white family from a gay-accepting church who pitied my situation and would want to raise me to be the best I could be. I was always angry because I felt like I was a perfect child in everyone’s eyes but my parents.
I looked for my parents in a lot of my friends. They couldn’t really give me what I needed. Sometimes they let me know that they couldn’t do it. I appreciated them for telling me that. But then I wondered where I could get it from, and by it, I meant some type of love and care that I couldn’t give myself. Self-love is so important, but when you are surrounded by toxic relationships and an unsupportive environment, it can only take you so far. It’s not an antidote, sometimes self-love feels more like a bandage that covers up the problem.
But now I don’t know what exactly I would be hoping for, because I hate community too. So I’m not satisfied with loving myself, but I’m not satisfied with others loving me either. What am I supposed to do then?