Excuse me for being AWOL these last couple days, I’ve been busy beating myself up, then drinking my sorrows away, then fervently repeating the process.
To make a long story short, I took the last three semesters off school, because frankly, I was an emotional basket case. I couldn’t handle the classroom setting. My social anxiety would prevent me from participating, and my emotional instability would keep me crying for hours after class.
The time off has done me good and on Wednesday I decided I would resume class in the fall, in the court reporting program, (a program I’ve been interested in for the last year and a half, but have been to crippled to pursue). When I went to sign up, I was informed the program was discontinued.
I couldn’t believe it. What a slap in the face. My emotional instability was suddenly back and my thought process resembled something close to the following: “That’s what I get for being such a procrastinator. I’m going to be stuck in my lowly secretary job for the rest of my life. I’m a loser. My whole life is ruined. I always fuck everything up.”
It was all I could do to hold back the tears for the rest of the workday, and before I got to the car, they were spilling out. I spent the next day in a funk, consumed by self-pity.
Then, I received a call from good ol’ Rey, who had found a reasonably priced, accredited, online court reporting program. Bam! I’m not a loser! I’m not gonna be stuck in my lowly secretary job forever. Saved by the internet!
Out of nowhere, sharp pain in the head and dizziness. Numbness and heaviness in the left arm. I was having a stroke. I was terrified. My chest constricted, I couldn’t breathe. I wouldn’t be able to complete the court reporting program after all. I immediately called Rey, who sarcastically informed me that if I was having a real stroke, I wouldn’t be calling him. Whatever, what does he know about having a stroke.
In retrospect, I see that the discontinuation of the court reporting program was almost comforting. It was an out. I would’ve made a great court reporter, hell, I could’ve opened my own business, if only those bastards didn’t shut me down. It was out of my control. But when confronted with the fact that the program wasn’t gone and I still had the opportunity, panic struck.
Failure is now back on the table. What if I’m not good at it? What if I can’t cut the mustard?
I guess we’ll find out, I start the program in fall.