A Pessimistic Retrospective

I feel as though I need to update this with something a little bit less...well...depressing. I should be writing more often. How can I be a writer if I don't...I dunno...write?

So, there are a few topics that I'd want to discuss, but I'll only touch on one today.

The topic of the day is:

I suck!

No no, wait...this isn't quite as self-depreciating as it seems. Really! I suppose I should rewind a bit to get to the exact reason why I believe that the above is currently a fact.

Growing up, I always viewed my adult self to be more successful than I am now. I had dreams of being a wildlife biologist and a Harvard graduate. I was a straight A student; good at just about everything I stuck my hand in. I also had an excellent work ethic. Oddly enough, I believe that's what did me in.

I know, it's weird. But bear with me. (Hehe...bear. I don't care if I used the wrong spelling!)

I grew up with no understanding of having to work hard. Everything always just...came to me. I was leaps and bounds ahead of where other kids my age were. I learned how to read at three years old, and my and everyone around me's standards were set rather high after that. The thing is, I knew I was smart. I read everything, learned a lot, absorved more... so when it came to school, I never had to try. I had already learned it. And if I didn't, it just came to me soon enough.

And that work ethic, that unbelievable work ethic that I now envy? Artificial. I hated doing homework, especially math (the only thing I didn't just pick up really easily). I always wanted to do something else, but there was always an adult sitting there at the table, or in the next room. Meanwhile I was stuck listening to people watching TV or playing outside and I just stewed. So, when I got older and adults weren't watching...weren't asking where my homework was everyday... I had the realization: I didn't have to put up with this grind anymore.

So, in seventh grade, I stopped doing homework. Something it took me until my junior year of college to start doing consistantly again.

After I transfered to a high end prep school, I couldn't cope with the fact that things didn't come easily to me anymore. I was discouraged by the fact that all of a sudden, I was two years behind in math (we had just started pre-algebra, and they were in advanced algebra in 8^th grade), and was struggling to do well in my old school. I didn't know how to study. I didn't know how to work hard. School was always just "sit there and have people telling you things you already know."

You see, I realize my failings. I understand why I'm in the position I'm in now, unemployed and unsatisfied with my life. But, while I'm not trying to shirk the blame onto anyone, I feel like it was an unavoidable consiquence of my childish arrogance.

I always feel a bit disappointed with myself about where I ended up. The standards I've held myself to have steadily decreased over the years. Sometimes I feel like because of one poor decision in my childhood, I lost out doing the only things I felt I was ever good at. Yes, art is good, respectable, fun...but, it was always a hobby for me. I went through higher education for a hobby, and I don't think I could put forth the effort to be as competitive in the field as I should be.

So, yes. I suck. If I ran into my childhood self, she would kick my ass. But, I don't have to suck forever. This is why I'm writing and constantly going around with a camera slung around my neck.

If nothing else, I don't want to be a complete disappointment to myself. So, practice makes perfect and all that.

...fin.

(One day I'll learn how to end these, I promise...)