what i must | fyu #7

Monday, February 26, 2018

monday, 12:55pm
I feel like myself for the first time in two weeks.

There are a lot of things that are Me, and that make Me feel like Me, but it is only when those things join together that I fully feel like myself. For example, Me is clean hair that smells faintly of oranges, the gray wedges I got from Tilly’s two years ago that I still wear on a weekly basis, seven to eight hours of sleep. Me is a trip to the gym, whether it be quick or long or lazy or effective (today was a quick, lazy trip to the gym—which it normally is—but the fact that I made it to the gym at all is what matters, I tell myself). Me is a salad from Foodworx, and my Brita water bottle filled up to twenty-two ounces. Me is deliberating whether or not to attend my literature class, which is currently happening halfway across campus, then ultimately opting to stay home and write, because it’s been two weeks since I feel like I’ve written for myself.

This is Me.

The Me of the past two weeks has been a torrid mess. It has partially been my own fault, because I didn’t have to necessarily eat the dried mangoes, the plantain chips, or the cocoa batons my mom sent as a thoughtful care package, but I did, but it has also partially been the fault of the weather, and of being sick.

For the past two weeks, I have had the pain of a dull bee sting stuck in my throat, with wells of mucus threatening to rise up at any point in time and exit through my nose or my mouth. For the past two weeks, my eyes have dimmed and my head and heart have hurt and I have wanted to die several times. I don’t think I actually wanted to die, but I think I liked the idea a lot more than I have before. For the past two weeks, I have been tempted to crawl into bed and refuse to attend any of my classes—screw the vocabulary quizzes and mandatory attendance; I’ve simply wanted to pull the covers over my head and cease to know the world. This is overdramatic, I know, and it might be due to PMS (everything can be attributed to PMS), but it might also be due to burnout or just plain old pure unmotivation.

The past two weeks, I have also attended a church retreat and talked to countless people and eaten ghost pepper wings during half-off Tuesday Happy Hour. I have attended meetings and forced myself to go to class and gone to interviews and scheduled more interviews. I have not added a word to my manuscript for almost a week and a half, but I spent a long four hours in the study room on Friday night, coughing my brains out and cutting an hour’s worth of footage to thirteen minutes.

I spent at least five hours reading, nothing good in particular (one book I read won the Printz, but it was boring and the prose was only semiexceptional). I have spent a lot of time thinking about writing, but it is only just now that I’m doing it, simply because…

It is hard.

There are a million things I could be doing right now instead of writing. For example, I could be scrolling through New York Times articles, because I am addicted to my New York Times subscription. I could be reading Hello, Universe, the book that won this year’s Newbery Award, which I checked out from the online library. I could be looking for my camera case, which I lost this weekend—it’s somewhere in my room. I could be figuring out what to film for this week’s video.

Instead, I am writing.

Because I need to. I must. Even if it’s an entire post dedicated to myself, which is currently the easiest thing to write, as I need no specific research to do so; even if I am tired, or angry, or grumpy, or lazy, or sinking into the depths of despair. Even if my steps are light and alegre, whether I feel like myself, or if my steps are slipping and perezoso, which is when I don’t. Even if this post is not to be published online; even if I lose my capability to do so, I must. I must write.


  1. Wow. Just... *WOW*, Rachel. I didn't know that I would relate to a post so much when I clicked on this but I did. I DO. Like, dude. I GET YOU. Sometimes I lose myself and I'm not Me for a while. Sometimes I don't write for a while or I fall behind on certain things and it makes me feel incomplete. I am only completely Me when I'm reading, writing, and blogging. It's scary because I neglect those things sometimes and so easily.

    Anyways. This post was such a comfort because you were able to put what I feel into words. THANK YOU. And allow me to say that YOU ARE SO AMAZING AND SO STRONG AND I CONGRATULATE YOU. Being sick is the absolute worst and it can be hard to recover from, especially if you are a busy bee. But I am so glad you were able to write this post because writing is good. Always.

    I hope you are feeling better. <3

    xx Kenzie

  2. Really good that you know who you are even if you haven't been 100%. Hope you feel better + ace those darn vocab tests!

  3. Ach, Rachel! I've been feeling something along these lines, but I know it's because of the well known and loved senioritis--a lovely combination of burnout, laziness, and not enough self motivation. I'm so sorry you've been sick: that is NO FUN at all! You can do it! You can push through! You can write! You can ace your quizzes and your tests!

  4. Well done for getting through classes and life while feeling sick. And PMS really sucks :(

    And how were the ghost pepper wings? Are you generally good with spice?

  5. I'm so sorry that you've been sick! But I hope that you keep feeling like you. That's such a comforting feeling.


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