The nightmare.
I had a pretty bad nightmare last night/as I woke. It was a dream that was basically a retelling of the end of my MA degree. I was applying at my old university for a PhD (anonymously for some reason), but my supervisor for my MA dissertation knew it. I went into a classroom (not one that corresponds with real life. If anything it looked like a classics classroom from Jesuit school, but just barely. I found the room empty and I found a room with undergraduates leaving, presumably as they are going to another class or as a class ended. I had that feeling of not being a part of them. I didn't find my MA supervisor, but I did find this document holder where he wrote a circular email (why an email was expressed as a paper document is why dreams dont make sense).
On the email/document, it said something like: why (I) should not be admitted for PhD. It was a list of my grades. They were low, and there were only two grades, and one that said 'failed, had to resubmit'. I felt so shit and I felt betrayed.
This is the point where I wake up.
And now back to the original blog post
At the end of the counseling session yesterday, my counsellor said that this week I said a lot and many emotions came out from what I've addressed. More than any other session did I express so much feeling, that's the impression I got from her. Perhaps it was her response to my monologue and not hers. In a counselling session, I make that room an extension of my own mind-world and I let her take a peek. My initial impression was positive. Now I don't know what to think.
So what did I talk about? I mentioned that I was ahead of schedule yesterday. Counsellor says that I'm always on about my schedule (well not in those words). I refuse to answer a question about how I felt and addressed how I needed to do more.
I talked about flux. Namely, the instability and uncertainty of my life and the world outside of me. It is essential to assume that conditions do not stay constant. I was not always like this, I thought things would always be constant. That's the difference between me at 17 (before I started to get depressed) and now. The depression period I refused to talk about, I thought it was a distraction. To talk about the now was relevant, not the period between 2004-2007. I learned a lot to get out of depression, I needed to learn life skills and get over many aspects of my anxiety. Learning this helped me become a better person, and in doing so, I saw this as a transition to my adult mind.
The transition to being a proper adult is something that seems implicit to my depression. Much has changed between myself (Pre university) and now (post university, if you will). Learning to account for the outside world is why I created my rituals. My memory isn't so good, and I want to control the things that I can control, because there are things that I cannot control like the economy, the academic situation or the job situation.
I had a triger last week because Facebook told me that Antonia found someone else. This was really difficult to talk about. This upset me because I was jealous, and also because I wish I could say that since that relationship, or in my life in general, I had something to show for myself. I have nothing to show for myself. The counsellor then interjected about all the music and things I've learned. I replied that most of those achievements were pre-university. I've entered from a period of teenaged savantism to adult mediocrity. I thought the progress rate would be constant.
My dissapointment is that I send so many applications and have no success. This seems to me as a sign of failure on my part that I put so much work in with my schedule and my day plans which have no result on anything, it makes no dent on trying to improve my life. The counsellor found a good word to describe that: Frustrating.
I mentioned towards the end about externalising. I could externalise my situation and blame something, or someone else. It's because of Marie that I fucked up my masters degree, it's because of Mia I ruined my life, it's because of the economy that all of this happened with the PhD and girlfriend failures. Or I could accept responsibility. In a sense I do both. I see how this situation outside of me confines my ability to succeed, but also, despite this, I see that my lack of success in these conditions, despite my efforts, is a sign of my inaction.
You know, the counsellor is right. I am feeling a lot of emotions talking about this. It makes me want to cry, or purge, or something.
I guess I should get on with my day. Self realisation can be a downer. Maybe I'll listen to some douchebag pop to try and cheer me up. Or there's always an audiobook.
I had a pretty bad nightmare last night/as I woke. It was a dream that was basically a retelling of the end of my MA degree. I was applying at my old university for a PhD (anonymously for some reason), but my supervisor for my MA dissertation knew it. I went into a classroom (not one that corresponds with real life. If anything it looked like a classics classroom from Jesuit school, but just barely. I found the room empty and I found a room with undergraduates leaving, presumably as they are going to another class or as a class ended. I had that feeling of not being a part of them. I didn't find my MA supervisor, but I did find this document holder where he wrote a circular email (why an email was expressed as a paper document is why dreams dont make sense).
On the email/document, it said something like: why (I) should not be admitted for PhD. It was a list of my grades. They were low, and there were only two grades, and one that said 'failed, had to resubmit'. I felt so shit and I felt betrayed.
This is the point where I wake up.
And now back to the original blog post
At the end of the counseling session yesterday, my counsellor said that this week I said a lot and many emotions came out from what I've addressed. More than any other session did I express so much feeling, that's the impression I got from her. Perhaps it was her response to my monologue and not hers. In a counselling session, I make that room an extension of my own mind-world and I let her take a peek. My initial impression was positive. Now I don't know what to think.
So what did I talk about? I mentioned that I was ahead of schedule yesterday. Counsellor says that I'm always on about my schedule (well not in those words). I refuse to answer a question about how I felt and addressed how I needed to do more.
I talked about flux. Namely, the instability and uncertainty of my life and the world outside of me. It is essential to assume that conditions do not stay constant. I was not always like this, I thought things would always be constant. That's the difference between me at 17 (before I started to get depressed) and now. The depression period I refused to talk about, I thought it was a distraction. To talk about the now was relevant, not the period between 2004-2007. I learned a lot to get out of depression, I needed to learn life skills and get over many aspects of my anxiety. Learning this helped me become a better person, and in doing so, I saw this as a transition to my adult mind.
The transition to being a proper adult is something that seems implicit to my depression. Much has changed between myself (Pre university) and now (post university, if you will). Learning to account for the outside world is why I created my rituals. My memory isn't so good, and I want to control the things that I can control, because there are things that I cannot control like the economy, the academic situation or the job situation.
I had a triger last week because Facebook told me that Antonia found someone else. This was really difficult to talk about. This upset me because I was jealous, and also because I wish I could say that since that relationship, or in my life in general, I had something to show for myself. I have nothing to show for myself. The counsellor then interjected about all the music and things I've learned. I replied that most of those achievements were pre-university. I've entered from a period of teenaged savantism to adult mediocrity. I thought the progress rate would be constant.
My dissapointment is that I send so many applications and have no success. This seems to me as a sign of failure on my part that I put so much work in with my schedule and my day plans which have no result on anything, it makes no dent on trying to improve my life. The counsellor found a good word to describe that: Frustrating.
I mentioned towards the end about externalising. I could externalise my situation and blame something, or someone else. It's because of Marie that I fucked up my masters degree, it's because of Mia I ruined my life, it's because of the economy that all of this happened with the PhD and girlfriend failures. Or I could accept responsibility. In a sense I do both. I see how this situation outside of me confines my ability to succeed, but also, despite this, I see that my lack of success in these conditions, despite my efforts, is a sign of my inaction.
You know, the counsellor is right. I am feeling a lot of emotions talking about this. It makes me want to cry, or purge, or something.
I guess I should get on with my day. Self realisation can be a downer. Maybe I'll listen to some douchebag pop to try and cheer me up. Or there's always an audiobook.
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