Growing Pains

My brother always used to tell me that we grow the most when we’re stretched to our limits. But if a week full of midterms, no sleep, and being really sick just after finishing a similar week also filled with midterms and no sleep is called “growing,” then I want no part of it.

I’ve been sick all week, so today I went to student health and was diagnosed with tonsillitis: a fancy word for being dizzy, sick to your stomach, having a sore throat, an awful headache, and no appetite. But it was actually kind of nice – going to the health center - because the doctors actually cared about me: something I kind of relish in when my professors won’t let me reschedule big tests – 100 degree fever or no.

Then when I got back to my dorm, and my roommate kindly welcomed me, “So where’ve you been?”

“Student Health. I had like three doctors look at me, and they prescribed penicillin for me and they sai-- ”

“So are you contagious?” No. Of course I’m not contagious. And I’m sorry I didn’t think to mention that first.

It’s so hard.

It’s so hard when professors and roommates treat me like I’m a robot – like it’s my own fault I’m sick. Sometimes I can be okay with humans forgetting that they themselves are human, but I’m not okay with humans forgetting that others are human. Then I think about how my grades are naturally going to fall, and that my Dad will then probably give me another talk on how I don’t belong here – that maybe I should go to a less prestigious university. It’s like a downwards spiral where I expect the worst and then the worst of the worst.

Ah, maybe I need to love myself more. But I feel like I can’t help me, I feel like I need others to help me. I guess I thought that if I loved everyone, they’d love me back, so I wouldn’t have to worry about loving me myself. But even so, I’d rather love all people and have them disappoint me, than to fill myself with pure hate for anybody. Hate only destroys the holder of it, and while love can also destroy its owner, there’s also a slight chance that it could complete and fulfill instead.

So I still love my roommate, I still love my Dad, and I still respect my professors. Maybe that’s silly – to love the people who hurt you – but then, no one can truly hurt you unless you love them. And loving someone never really was love if you don’t love them during the tough times.

My brother, he always used to tell me that we grow the most when we’re stretched to our limits. He never told me it was fun – never even promised it was worth it.

But I promise myself it will be worth it.

{comments always appreciated :) }