Stressed students: Find your drive and live once more

I am tired.

Over the course of this semester, I have stretched myself to the breaking point. And I know that I’m not the only one.

Just yesterday, as I walked down the hallway, I heard someone say, “I told my sister the truth about college. That I have lost the ability to live.”

God did that stick out to me.

I once went to classes eager and excited. I am a learner. And I love to learn.

Now, however, my anxiety drags me back into bed. I walk through the halls zombified, feeling like the weight of everything could very well crush me.

And if I am crushed, well, at least I won’t have to worry about all the crap I have to do. I have even toyed with the idea of giving up the piece of paper with my name on it that I’m supposed to get this spring. Even writing for this newspaper, which once brought me a great deal of joy, brings me only late nights of tears and hair pulling.

I’ve lost the ability to live. I forgot why I decided to pursue literature, a major famous for churning out Starbucks baristas.

It was because I loved it, once. I once loved to read and write and learn. And when people asked what I wanted to do when I graduated, it didn’t matter, because I just knew that I was learning and enjoying school.

Now, I bury myself in books I don’t like to try and eek out information for my homework assignments. School has become less about enjoying classes, and more about pulling baloney off the top of my head to put together homework assignments I no longer care about.

One of my favorite movies is “Accepted” a 2006 movie where Bartleby Gaines, a high school slacker, is rejected by every college he applies to, and begins his own.

At one point, he goes to a fancy university to “figure this whole college thing out.” While he’s there, it shows him standing among people rushing through the halls, and talking to caffeine addicts who snap, “This is gonna be on the test, I can’t afford to miss it.”

So Bartleby goes back to his own school and asks the students what they want to learn. And they say, “I’ve never been asked that before.”

I think that this movie really captures how I’ve been feeling lately. This semester, I’ve been taking classes I need to graduate. Classes I care about very little. And it’s pushed me into a rut where I just feel depressed and sick. Constantly.

In November, I decided to take on Nation Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. For NaNoWriMo, participants try to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. Now you might be thinking, “Sara, why add more stress on yourself?”

However, trying to write a 50,000 word novel was more like stress relief. For the first time in ages, I set aside some time every day to do something that I wanted to do.

I love to write, and I seem to have forgotten that somewhere in the past four years as I wrote essay after essay about things that I didn’t necessarily find interesting or relevant.

Over break and into next semester, I have decided to re-kindle my love for what I do.

I’m going to read for fun, which seems like a strange concept now. I’m going to write when it’s for me. I’m going to research things that interest me.

I came to school to be a learner, not a student. And I want to love learning. That’s something I can’t accomplish by beating myself up while I take tests about jazz music.

Perhaps you came to college to be a learner as well, and have lost your love for it too. Try to do the same. Set aside time to do the things you love, rather than bringing yourself down with the stress of things you don’t.

When you’re trying to get back your ability to live, you may have to shed some things that you know are bad for you.

Consider this column as my farewell to The Eagle. After four years  of working as an editor, I have found that the panic attacks that press-nights have brought me are just not worth it anymore. I cannot lose one more hair over something that I don’t truly love.

I don’t want to lose my ability to live. I want to be excited for classes again. And I hope that everyone who reads this will agree, and try to get back their ability to live, just like I plan to.