That Overwhelming Feeling


The semester is well over halfway at this point. I don’t know what happened. Where did the time go?

Monday after Monday, I manage to convince myself that it’s still the beginning and I’m just getting into the swing of things. However, that is a lie.

I am constantly going with little relief. The Missourian (and guilt of not being a better reporter) consumes my thoughts 67 percent of the day. The rest is filled with anxiety about my other classes, homework, coffee, the future, boys and friendships.

Over the past week, I’ve felt overwhelmed. Really overwhelmed. I had papers to write, articles to research, projects to do, family in town, books to read, and very little time to breathe. I’ve actually avoided stepping foot in The Missourian since last Wednesday. (That’s a record for me. I feel so guilty, but I just really needed a break. I’ll be back Wednesday, Liz. Promise.)

I’ve been trying to write an article about first generation college students and for some reason, very few people have gotten back to me. I’ve called and emailed, but no one is answers, they promise to get back to me later, they don’t actually answer my question, etc. It’s driving me nuts.

Photoj has been stressing me out as well. I want this. I want this so badly. But I’m so lost. I don’t understand a lot about photojournalism. The assignments cause me anxiety. I procrastinate. I don’t approach strangers well. It makes me think I’ve made the wrong decision. But I can’t imagine doing anything else. I love photography. I love the joy of it. The adventure. The beauty. The emotion. I just don’t know how to capture it.

I really hope I made the right decision studying abroad next semester. I’ve never wanted anything more, but writing a check worth more than my car (and it’s only 30% of the program fee) made me feel a little faint. I know it will be a wonderful experience and I hope it opens my eyes to the world and gets me out of my shell, but still. I get a lot of panic-inducing emails from the program about money and meetings.

I know that I’ll make it through this semester in one piece. Unfortunately, I don’t know if I can say the same for my GPA or bank account.

(Sorry. Please, dear readers and/or parents, do not fret for my sanity or send me to the counseling center. I promise that this is simply a social media rant.)


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