Disaster Diaries

I've never really been a rule follower. I haven't really ever found a need to be because just in general the benefits of not following the rules typically outweighed the cons of following the rules. Why would I make my life harder following rules when I could just ....not?

The rules I typically opted out of aren't even really fun rules to break. As a child, I never cleaned my room. It was honestly just too much effort to clean a room, when there were just lots of other things I preferred to do. My father would threaten literally every possible punishment, including posting pictures of my messy room on Facebook. But it took more effort for me to clean my room than it did for me to care about those pictures. In High School, I often found sneaky ways to get out of studying for tests but always was still able to get good grades. Whether it was letting papers hang out of notebooks so I could peek during the test, or putting my phone under my leg and having pictures of the answers. I only got caught once, and got a zero on the quiz. My AP literature teacher caught me, he had a thick mustache and even thicker eyebrows and a very somber voice. When he told me about my pending zero he scrunched up his face to where he just looked like a giant hairball. Though I didn't really care about the zero. I had cheated on all the other quizzes and gotten 100's, getting caught once was easier then studying for all those quizzes.

These examples make me sound lazy, dishonest, and untrustworthy. And sometimes I am. Though I feel like in all these circumstances, I had to much mentally to deal with that kept me from following the rules. Which isn't a great excuse, I do acknowledge my privilege enough to realize that not everyone could benefit from my same treatment.

Junior year I recieved 103 detentions for coming in late to school. 103 is excessive and honestly inexcusable. But at the same time, I often got to bed at 2 or 3am because I was too busy doing homework. And I had to stay up that late because I had worked at the Chick-Fil-A from the moment I finished school to 11pm that night. My family was under financial strain, and I couldn't be an extra burden. So I slept later, recieved detentions, and then failed to serve those detentions. Why? Because every months they took anyone who hadn't served their detentions and gave them Saturday school. It didn't matter if you had one detention or 30.. you served Saturday school. And it was easier to do 5 hours in Saturday school then go to detention everyday... so occasionally I did my saturday in the cafeteria working on homework.

I'm not lazy. In college, I developed myself into even more of a high functioning individual. I took 18 hours of courses every semester, I worked part time, I was invited to 4 honors societies, served in 6 leadership positions, I was the chapter president of my sorority, served on SGA, was on three intermural teams a semester, and had a great social life. People often questioned how I could handle such a heavy load and still function. I was proud of the burden I took on, I loved the attention of being someone that could handle her shit. It made me feel important.

Though at the same time, it contributed to my privelege. I didn't need to follow menial rules that other people did, I was special. I earned the opportunity to bend the rules. Some people might say that that showed a lack of integrity. Those people would be correct.

When I graduated and found a job, I wanted to treat it like school. Because I was good at school. I wanted to be working constantly, I wanted to have color coded notes, I want to study my job. But I found there really wasn't that much to do. I couldn't find the rush of being pulled in 65 different directions, if I only really had a few things to do during the day to succeed. Why should I kill myself trying to be best when I could be my personal version of mediocore and still be viewed as being awesome?

Then I became complacent.

I would spend entire days in the office online shopping. On days I could work from home, I would keep my computer open and plugged in to give the illusion I was working. But in reality, I was drinking by the pool. I would spend less then 5 hours a week doing my job, and I was still viewed as being a top performing employee.

Many people would argue that that was the company's fault for failing to give employees enough responsibilites. They're probably right. But in the same breath, it added to my privilege while also destroying my self worth. I wasn't doing anything to benefit anyone or add to someones life. But I wasn't still being paid well, and I was still being congratulated. It made me feel worthless.

When the pandemic hit, my distraught complacency further developed. I was someone who used to be such an achiever, but for a year straight I was paid to do nothing. I watched as my friends exceeded in the jobs, enjoyed new learning opportunities, developed in their professional environements. And I sat on the couch everyday. I went to bed at 1am, and woke up at 10 and was taking a nap by noon. I felt like garbage.

This has been a learning experience. A way to grow, a way to vent. I've lost my footing, and I feel like I'm in a spiral. Through these experiences, I've been challenged by many to stay positive but in alot of cases it's been nearly impossible. I haven't experienced great loss, hardship, or hurdles. I am privileged enough to understand I should be thankful, and I am. But I am learning through my depression how to be a functioning human. Whether anyone decides to read this or not, it helps to write about it in these disaster diaries. And who knows we're all a little disastrous, maybe someone will relate and you'll feel a little less alone.